During her long months of inactivity Katie Beardie hibernates in the rafters of my garage like a great big sixteen foot vampire bat. I haul her up there using an ingenious arrangement which looks a bit like the contraption my granny, Tibby Rennilson, had in her kitchen to air her undergarments. In Scotland its known as The Pulley.
A couple of years ago someone gave me a 12 volt winch which was going spare, and I decided to utilise this to help pull Katie up into her lofty lair, sort of like servo assistance. You still pull the rope, but the winch gives you a helping hand.
Once raised the pulley rope is cleated off and then I sling a couple of webbing straps under Katie to take her weight. So she is up there supported by the webbing straps, the winch cable which is on a ratchet, and the pulley rope which is cleated off. Belt Braces and a thick bit of bailer twine. Bomb proof.
So the other day I decided to lower Katie down so that I could get on with making her sailing rig.
I cleared all the detritus which somehow manages to collect under Coot, and pushed her out of the garage. I then took the bikes down off the rack and generally cleared the way for Katie’s gentle descent earthwards.
First I made sure The Pulley rope was good and secure on the cleat.
Then I undid the webbing straps.
The next step is to climb the step ladder and undo the dog clutch which holds the ratchet on the winch. The boat would then be held secure on The Pulley rope.
Can you guess what happened next children?
As I released the clutch there was a jolt as the rope tightened.
Then it snapped.
Katie seemed to hang there in suspended animation for a nano second then plummeted the full eight feet onto the concrete floor.
She didn't bounce.
It was a bit like the scene in Only Fools and Horses when they dropped the chandelier.
I'm stood at the top of the step ladder, looking down in total disbelief, and wondering why on earth she did that!
I was sacred to look at the damage, but then I had to.
She split her keel from the first bulkhead back about two feet. She also cracked the joint between the bulkhead and the bottom plank on both sides, basically the area which touched down first.
There was some other collateral damage.
Could have been worse I suppose, I could have been underneath it.
So this week I have been mainly repairing the damage, stripping back the paint, taping up the seams and generally bodging gloop into the cracks.
Two weeks to go until Barton and I’m a week behind schedule.
What a plonker!
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