And On The Fifth Day God Created Sound-aka itzafriday

that is such a bad idea...... run of the mill poitin at 75% is wrong..... i'm not sure i would be brave enough to sample TSC poitin!

you'd only have that money once, unless you have other Islands tucked away?

is that donkey of yours still alive? or did you dispense with it?

 

James Bond stylee? Army stylee more like! This place is In Fermanagh, which they used to call "Bandit Country", due to the amount of IRA activity which went on there. The Army used to go hooning up and down the lake on excercises, and regularly stop to search places - particularly if they saw signs of activity. An old story I told on here a few years ago, and that happened back even more years ago:

 

I'm not really a mad boaty person, I just use them to get about - but I am a certified speed freak. This thing feckin terrified me when I first got in it. I sat down, thinking a nice wee speedy run up Strangford Lough.
Angus looks over at me, says "You OK to go?" And opened up the throttle. The nose of this boat rose up until it felt like the boat was at about 45 degrees, it stayed still, then came down to near flat and proceeded to take off like a bat out of hell. I think it's rated for a 40hp engine yet runs a 60, and is basically an empty shell with 2 seats right at the back and the engine! No screen, nothing but the seats (mounted very high up in the hull to give you that authentic "I am going to fall OFF, not OUT OF, this boat" feeling). It's a feckin mad machine, I hope he gets the trailer sorted in time!

 

It wasn't my donkey, it had been dumped there by someone as it was only fit for the knacker's yard! And it is no more - I shot it. With a shotgun. Loaded with slugs, I think. And at point-blank range which was a mistake, as it's head sort of splattered all over me......

 

i think i requested this some years back, but please write a book of all these funy stories! they don't have to be massively long, just that one there was enough to send me

 

reading the first part made me sad, the donkey didn't get to live out its days on the island of Eden, but by the end of the story i was due to the school boy error of ending its life at such close range!

 

It was fecked anyway, big open sores all over it. Better to die in spectacular fashion and cover me in brain matter than to die in agony....

 

TSC - Brilliant mad uncle tale! More of the same please!

Our Salcombe Flyer is meant to have a 40, or at the most a 50 so the 60 makes it shift.
I love the feeling of planing in the sunshine - total freedom!

Ours looks like this - my photos of ours are too cr4p to post up:



but with a Mercury 2 stroke 60 and without that dodgy wakeboard bar.

 

There aren't many more mad uncle tales, as he turned out to be an evil, wife-beating c*nt who my Aunt divorced about 20 years ago (hence the SLRs and not SA80's!). If he sees me in the street he crosses the road, since we had an "altercation" one night soon after I had been told exactly why they split up years ago. AND HE HAS GINGER HAIR - THERE IS A LINK!
But she has now been happily remarried to my "new" uncle, the boat builder, for 18 years.

Jon - the writing has already started, I do little articles from time to time to amuse myself. Submitted one to a well-known men's magazine a few months ago, got paid, but no sign of it being published yet - whether they decided in the end not to use it, or it is just sitting in their archives waiting for a dry month, I don't know. But I think you will recognise the writing style and subject, and the pen name I used will definitely confirm for you who it is! (And no, I didn't write it as "TSC" or anything!)

 

Well, we had a great couple of days on the island, except for a spot of bother coming back. We took the boat down, just 3 of us and a load of luggage going over. Lake was very calm. Pushed the boat in, ran the mighty 4hp outboard for a minute to warm it up. Loaded up, started going - the outboard died halfway across and would not start again.
Out with the oars, and that boat is a REALLY hard row, even with two people rowing. The arms were nearly ripped off me by the time we got there. It's meant for motoring, and ideally being up on the plane (which only takes 9hp).
Messed around, drank loads, went hunting but only found a fox to shoot. Feckin vermin scum.
Went to fire up the chainsaw (it was REALLY cold), no action, it was dead to the world. So spent an hour or two collecting dry wood from the forest. That just about kept us going till bedtime, then of course the next morning it was frosty and we had no wood.
Fired up the outboard just in the dock, ran it for maybe half an hour at a fast idle. It went a treat. So went to go across to the mainland. Again, the outboard quit half way, so I had to row again.
Dropped the saw into the local saw boy, he said come back in an hour. So we went for a couple of pints to sober up, then went back to him. "She's going nowhere lads, I'm afraid - Ive put a new recoil on her, changed the plug, and the other lad just tried to start her for about 10 minutes - she's a dead one".
"Do you have a dirt cheap chainsaw for sale?"
"Ya know, oi just sold me last one yesterday!"
Drove round for about 2 or 3 hours to find a shop with chainsaws, and eventually found a shop which was both open and sold chainsaws.
"What's the cheapest junk chainsaw you have?"
"Well, this here is 80, she starts and runs great" - proceeds to demostrate INSIDE his tiny shop.
So I got it, 80 with a new blade, a full tank of fuel and a fill of blade lube.
Bought more drink, back to the island, outboard died half way - more feckin rowing.
Mate started cutting huge quantities of logs while I went looking for deer. I sat on the deer stand for about an hour, then got too cold so gave up.
On the way back I saw another fox (we have never had foxes on the island before, but they swim well), so I gave it a shot from about 20ft.
I had forgotten that I had loaded it with deer slugs topped with birdshot, the thing near enough vapourised. Ah well, one less fox!
Then went back to the house, drank more, and found a HUGE log which we made into a totem pole, complete with angry face - mounted on the lawn to scare off Polynesians, I suppose.
Spent the evening having huge fires and drinking.

Next day the weather seemed mild, not cold, but there were white horses on the lake, and a bit of rain.
We waited to see if it was going to blow over, but it just got worse. And we HAD to get home.
Started the outboard, reversed out of the dock, and got hit right on the stern of the boat by a huge wave - soaked me from head to toe, killed the engine, and filled the boat about 1/3 full of water! Mates started bailing like madmen.
The outboard started again second pull of the rope, and we were away. The swell was so high I was worried the boat was going to be flipped.
Then the outboard died again, about 400m from the mainland. 60mph wind, driving rain, rowing a boat load of people do not mix. I've rolled cars, ploughed into walls, been out windscreens, but this was the first time I'd actually realised that we were fecked, as in going to die, and sort of accepted that this was the end, what a pathetic way to go. I mean we weren't even on fire, or shot, or anything! It took us an hour and a half to get to the mainland rowing the boat (normally 10 mins with the outboard), and the swell and waves were so mad that we were holding onto the seats with both hands every time we got hit, so as not to be chucked out of the boat.
But we got there, eventually, with both my hands still attached to the oars but my arms not particularly well attached to my shoulders. My mate had to drive us home as my hands were so cramped I couldn't even use them.

Just before we got back home, mate insisted we stop for a pint, in the Crawfordsburn Inn, which has become very posh now. They actually have a doorman, and only 6 bedrooms I think? So in I walked, with thick, caked mud up to my knees, unwashed for three days, and he opened the door.
"The bar is that way, yes?"
"Yes, but Sir..."
"Thank you, so kind. We're not Gypsies, we just smell like them"

So we went and had a few more pints before I collapsed into bed pretty early.
My next purchase will be some more of those lifejackets that inflate when you hit the water!

 

I just heard all this story on the phone off a drunkard irish man and the story makes more sence now written down lol

 

Oh, and TSC island now has the beginnings of a totem pole/polynesian fertility symbol, whatever, on the front lawn.
Mate Angus and girlfriend Marie modelling the attractive 80's style lifejackets - never normally use them (God gave me these gills and flippers for a reason!) but this was just before we left the island in the wild weather, and anything to keep anyone afloat was required...

 

Think Marie and Angus need a face wash.

 

Dey is nigs, y'hear?

 

Moving targets ? Crack on, pass me a shotgun.