Embarrassing moments

My boat, Mignonne, is moored in the middle of a creek about a hundred yards from the landing stage/pontoon, an easy paddle in my little inflatable.

Usually, I kneel in the dingy facing forward and just use the blades of the collapsible paddles to sort of dog paddle me along.

A couple of weeks back when I was leaving my boat to come home, I had to take with me a bag full of washing and a few other bit and pieces. I also had a black bin liner full of rubbish. So I put the heaver bag of washing etc in the dingy behind me, paddled over to the pontoon and swung it up on top, then paddled back for the bag of rubbish. I put that behind me and set off again.

However, I had only gone about a quarter of the way across when I heard a hissing noise!

‘Oh shit!’ It could only be one thing.

Now, the dingy has several compartments that are blown up separately. However I didn’t dare to look to see which one was hissing, I just hoped that it wasn’t one of the main ones. I fixed my eye on the pontoon and started paddling as fast as I could. Fortunately, as it turned out the tube that was going down wasn’t the main one.

But, it was one that helped to keep the thing rigid.

It started to dip in the middle. My knees were sinking lower and lower. The front of the dingy and if I had dared to look, the back, were rising up. The water started to flow in over the sides adding to the weight pushing down in the middle. Now, because she was sinking lower, she became harder to paddle. My little arms were a blur as I flailed at the water.

Eventually, I made it. My chest hit the pontoon and I grabbed the top with both hands.

Unfortunately, there is a gap under the pontoon. So while my top half had stopped moving and was firmly clamped to the side of the pontoon, my bottom-half, was still in the dingy, which was sliding underneath.

So, there I was, wrapped around the side of the pontoon, the dingy had become wedged below and there wasn’t enough buoyancy left in it for me to push my feet against. After a quick look around, to make sure that no one was watching these indignities, I realised that I had no choice but to kick my bottom-half, out of the dingy, into the water, so that I would at least be upright and in a better position to haul myself up on to the pontoon. Eventually, somehow I did manage to get out.

‘Phew!’

I was completely soaked from the waist down but at least I hadn’t had to try swimming fully clothed. And, I had some dry clothes in my bag, a bit dirty, but what the hell.

I managed to rescue the dingy and the bag of rubbish and finished off deflating the dingy. That’s when I realised that I carelessly, hadn’t put the plug in the tube properly. I made a mental note to be more careful in future. But for now, I’m ashore.

Right, I thought get the bags over to my car then, change out of these wet things.

I unlocked the car, opened the back door and chucked the bags and the dingy on the back seat. Then, I emptied my pockets and tossed my loose change, keys and such like, over on to the driving seat. Next, I sorted out some dry clothes and threw them over as well. I had another quick look around, then stripped off all the wet stuff, except my underpants and dropped it all in the back of the car.

That’s when l slammed the back door and reached for the front door handle.

Now, Gimimma, my little old banger has a wicked sense of humour. And she chose this moment to show it. As I grabbed the handle, I heard all the locks going clickity-click! The central locking system had locked me out.

‘Oh no, please, not now!’

Too late, I’m stood there in me wet underpants, my keys, dry clothes and everything else is in it the bloody car.

Fortunately, I had previously opened the driver’s side window. Unfortunately, it was only open an inch. So, I couldn’t even get my hand in, never mind enough of my arm to reach the keys.

Unfortunately breaking into cars isn’t one of my specialities. I tried to force the window down but it wouldn’t move. I thought of trying to force the lock but all my tools, were either, locked in the boot, or on board Mignonne which, was also locked, besides the dingy was on the back seat, inside the car.

There was nothing I could use lying about anywhere and there certainly wasn’t anything suitable in my underpants. I began to wish that there was someone around, someone who might have a screwdriver. They could laugh all they liked, I just wanted to get dressed and get home. But there was no one and the nearest place where I might be able to get help, was a big, posh, golf club just up the road. But there was no way I was going in there, in the early evening, wearing only a pair of wet baggy Y fronts.

Eventually, you will be relieved to hear, dear reader, I found a stick with a bit of a hook at one end that I used to fish my keys out.

Needless to say, I drove home very carefully; I wasn’t going to risk any more cock-ups that evening.

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