National Council meetings - you just can't beat them!

As a Commander in the Nautical Training Corps, I have to attended the organisation's top level meetings where our National Council meet. When I accepted the job of Adventure Activities Director, I wanted to help people, not just because it would mean I have the same rank as James Bond! Seriously though, I hate meetings, they can be so dull...

Firstly, I had to get there. As you know, my transport options at the moment as somewhat limited - car in the garage, bike that doesn't recharge it's battery. I decided I would take the bike, and pray that the battery lasted long enough to power the lights there and back. Just in case, I'd take Dad's jump-pack so that I could wire-up the battery to get it started at the other end. One problem though, where was the jump-pack?

(a) In the garage where normal people would keep it;
(b) By the front door ready for use;
(c) In the kitchen, next to the microwave, because it's the obvious place for it to be!;
(d) In the back of my car, in the garage, in Bognor Regis, 12 miles away.

If you answered:

(a) You don't know me or my family at all. Normal people?
(b) You're thinking like me (scarily), but you have forgotten about my luck.
(c) You're clearly an avid reader on CATCOUK, and should get a life. However, you're also wrong, you remember the facts, but not the spirit.
(d) You're an evil person, but clearly understand exactly how my life works. Correct.

With that little spanner in the works, I had to go begging, and asked Dad to lend me his. God I love that car - I know why the police used Volvo estates. Very fast, and stick to the road like sh*t to a blanket. With that problem solved, onto the next one - staying awake through the meeting.

The chairman is great, and his reports are fine, and usually interesting to a degree. Our Chief of Staff is very... animated, and usually has a pretty lively report. Then we hit a brick wall, as we have to listen to the regional reports. Goodness me, could they be any more dull? I looked over at fellow Commander Ian, and he looked like he was in serious pain, gripping his face with boredom.

To finish the evening, we had a debate about the new cadet grades and classwork titles. There was a long discussion about the use of the term 'Seaman', and it may have made me giggle a little bit. The guys from London region (same who helped me get my car out of the harbour last month) looked at me, and told me to grow up. I'm sorry, these meetings just leave me drained!

ERNIE UPDATE: He's with W. Jones, but I haven't heard anything yet.

Even I'm not that sad (and that's saying something)

I was rudely awoken this morning at an unearthly hour (alright, it was 8.30, but I haven't got to get up!). Very loud music was playing for the car valet garage behind our house. I mean, VERY LOUD. Honestly, I would imagine half the neighbour-hood heard the mechanic's choice of music this morning.

I know that I sound like an old fart, but first thing in the morning? A little unnecessary I think. But worse still, was what was actually being played. After the music stopped, the show's host began to speak - it was only bloomin' Terry Wogan. Who in their right mind plays BBC Radio 2 at full volume, like a bad boy racer? Soon after Terry's dulcit tones started to waft accross the county, there was some shouting, and an abrupt stop to the radio. That's no way to treat a knight of the realm!

Anyways, as I said, even I'm not sad enough to listen to Radio 2 (unless it's the only thing my car radio will pick up), and I certainly would blast it out over the countryside. Having said that though, I did once drive through Arundel playing Classic FM at full volume - it just seemed appropriate...

ERNIE UPDATE: Make sure you're sitting down - I got the engine started! It came to be in a dream oddly, but I knew the engine would start if it was warm. I also knew the engine would be warm if I ciould get it started. Neither points very helpful. Putting my camping Trangia stove under the engine would probably do the trick, but I feared that the mixture of gas stove, naked flame, and a petrol engine would only end in a messy disaster.

So instead, I pushed the car around, and put the nose under the garage. Then I fished out my cheap Halogen site lamps (the kind that builders have, only mine were bought in Lidl), and focussed them on the engine. After two hours later at Gas Mark 4, the engine started straigh on the key! I was opptimisitc, but even I was amazed how well that worked. Mum thought it would never work, but once again, Ernie prooved her wrong. In Ernie we trust...

PS - It's all up to the genious of the mechanics at W. Jones of Bognor now. Keep praying that it's a cheap simple fix, or it's not going to happen...

I've been a bad monkey

It wasn't all my fault, but I admit to being in a somewhat hilarious mood yesterday evening. I may have contributed to the most farcical regional meeting I have ever attended. It took twenty minutes for Stuart (the usual primary cause of farce) to give his unit report. This was mainly caused by us laughing over me reporting that someone we know may have developed narcolepsy (where the person falls asleep at random). I know that we are both going to hell for it, and it is far less funny for those afflicated with this problem. Sorry nacoleptic people.

After that, the evening didn't get much better. I received a text from the bandmaster saying that no-one had left her a key, so she, and the rest of the band were all locked out. My CO and I dodn't find that very funny (all I could think was 'Oh bu*ger'), but everyone else did. Sorry Tyler.

The meeting was finally destroyed when I got the third and final CO, and my good friend, Graham in creases when I commented on the raffle ticket design for Founder's Day. He had written some spoof prizes, but I looked at the top prize and was just reminded of that old gameshow, Bullseye (you know, Jim Bowen, Darts, '...and Bulley's special prize', and all that). I muttered to Graham in a strong northern accent (sorry if you don't get the reference) 'Oh, it's anoother speed boot'. Sorry Graham, and everyone else at the meeting.

To be honest, it's not my fault that I'm in a good mood for a change. Put it down to some text messages that I have been receiving lately, many of them to do with NTC. Apparently my paperwork system is useful (although that's not nearly half the reason for my good mood).

ERNIE UPDATE: After telling the garage yesterday to expect him, he still hasn't started. He came pretty close to day, and at one point I thought I had him. But no, no ignition. I have his engine wrapped in hession sacks to try and warm it up, in the hopes of success tomorrow. I'm not going to hold my breath though - the battery's getting pretty flat now...

Oh, the savage wheels of fate...

As you will all know by this point, Ernie is far from well (more news on that in a mo), and now my bike is playing up. I realised that my bike wasn't starting, although I still had lights. I was having to jump start the bike all the time. It could have been two problems: for about £30, a daed battery; for over £100 the charging system was knackered. Well, on my way to NTC on Friday, I found out. Was it the cheap battery problem. Of course not, otherwise the engine running would have kept the lights on, instead of them dying two roundabouts after leaving my house.

Further to this run of bad luck, I was supposed to be meeting someone after NTC. Although it was much worse for her I'm sure, it was my luck that caused it no doubt. She was involved in a car crash, and had spent most the day in A&E with whiplash. Splendid. We arranged to meet the following night, but her friends (who she was babysitting for) were two hours late back, sinking that plan (no doubt they had also had some kind of crash, or flat tyre or something unlucky). What did I do to deserve all of this bad luck to come to my friends and I? Answers on a postcard please...

ERNIE UPDATE: After several hours under the bonnet, I can confirm that I have restored main power, and all electrical systems are go! Don't get your hopes though, because there is still an underlying ignition problem, and I haven't been able to start him in two days! Even with a bump start.

I told the garage to expect casualties, and explained the problem. I've checked all that Mr. Haynes Manual (I think he's Spanish) and I can think of, but no joy. W. Jones (the Gods of garages) asked when they could see Ernie, and I replied 'Yes, when I can get hims started, and over to you!'. So keep praying everyone, we need it now more than ever!

Perhaps the spark has gone from our relationship... (sorry, an engineering pun to finish on there)

Try and explain this!

Today has been yet another bad day, in what is turning out to be a bad week. Yesterday, Ernie's electrical system completely failed. Nothing was working. Then I had to work in the evening, worrying about Ernie. Then, to finish it all off, last night, I nearly upset someone I care about. Today, in the p*ssing rain, I had to go to the funeral of one of my fellow Lions members. I hate funerals in the rain. I especially hate it when I have to attend the funeral looking bedragled like a drowned rat, because I had to go on the bike. Still could be worse. At least Eric (my bike) is still running...

Woops spoke to soon. On the way home, I had to fill Eric up with petrol, and it appears that my battery has completely died. So, despite owning two vehicles, I don't actually own one that works!

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. As you know, Ernie's electrical systems were completely dead - nothing worked. But I sat in him today, just hoping and praying, everything was working! How is that possible? I haven't done anything to him, he has just started to repair himself! Obviously things are still not right. The ignition system won't work (other than to make an ugly clicking noise), and I'm pretty sure the rev counter shouldn't read 8000 when the main beam lights are switched on.

I have no idea what has happenned, but at least there is some sign of life! Thank you to those of you who have been praying for him. Also, thanks to Bill Vincent, who has said that Ernie's heart may be broken, as he might have fallen in love with 'beautiful Renault', or a 'silky Peugeot'. I needed a laugh, thanks Bill.

You heard it here first

It has been announced that a CATCOUK project has been delayed due to some technical errors. After three years, Ernie the Escort has finally refused to start. It is thought that a recent trip to Grenoble may have something to do with the electrical failure.

Production was suspended today on the completion of CATCOUK's new video, 'Wish You Were Here (instead of me)'. After returning from a 1400 mile round trip to Grenoble, one of the main stars, Ernie the Escort developed some ignition difficulties. The 22 year old Ford GL Estate has been owned by Mr Andy Clarke for just over three years, and has never let him down yet.

Unconfirmed reports are saying that the little estate car may finally have died completely. Eye-witnesses say that a large spark was seen arking across the engine bay near the battery, during an attempt to start the motor. Since that incident, nothing has been seen from the car, and no signs of any of the electrics working have been observed. Sources close to Mr. Clarke are calling this a complete failure of the primary and secondary electrical systems, and some are saying that this is the darkest day in CATCOUK history.

The issue has been further complicated, by the level of breakdown cover held by Mr Clarke not covering home starts and recovery. Apparently, Mr. Clarke has been heard to say that this problem is only solveable by the car's long-term garage W. Jones of Bognor, a full 12 miles away. We have attempted to get a quote from Mr. Clarke, and all we have received back is 'Oh Cock.'

In an official statement from CATCOUK, readers have been asked to pray to whatever God or higher being they believe in (yes Todd Warner, Nick Draper, and Chuck Norris do count), and just hope that this situation can be overcome.

Just another thing to add to Ernie's abilities

I love my 1986 Ford Escort 1.4 GL Estate in Champagne Gold, but Ernie the Escort surpassed even my expectations this week. As you may know, I have been away for a week, in the French Alpes. This was not through choice, but for research with University. I did find out that I hate skiing though...

Something else I hate, almost as much as skiing, is flying. I'm not scared of it, it just bores me. So instead of paying £100 for the 2 hour flight to Grenoble, I paid alot more to drive there! Honestly, I knew that Ernie would get there and back, but I hadn't counted on just how easily he'd do it. Over 1400 miles of driving, and not so much as a splutter. Okay, after a week of being parked at Grenoble-Isere airport he didn't start straight away, but he did start without assistance. and on the way home, we ripped through France to catch an earlier ferry, at speeds of between 80 and 100 (for legal reasons, those speeds are in kph)! I would never have though it possible for Ernie to keep those sorts of speeds up for 7 hours straight.

As if that didn't beat it all, I also found out that the other car that drove out there wouldn't start to get off of the ferry. When you consider that the other car is 15 years newer than Ernie, that's quite an achievement. Furthermore, driving a route that should take 7h 33m in a little over 7 hours is pretty impressive.

Lastly, in a final rasp to all of those who doubted my car's abilities, after 11.5 hours of driving yesterday, I arrived home at 1.30am, and I didn't have any aches or pains, and I felt that I could have driven another 700 miles (as I'm sure Ernie would have done - he just loves eating up the miles!). I defy anyone to find a better, more reliable, more able car for £300!

To date, Ernie has been an off-road continental cruising ambulance taxi sports cruiser. That's quite a job description!

I told you, you can always rely on Ernie...

I was overjoyed yesterday, when I had to pick my beloved 1986 Ford Escort up from the garage. W. Jones of Bognor, who I stand by as being the best garage in the world, serviced my car, made some other adaptions that I had requested, and all fof just over £100. I haveb't had a garage service bill that's been under £200 for gould knows how long. And that includes servicing costs for the bike as well!

In a time when I am spending a ridiculous amount of money on skiing trip that I don't want to go on, my car brings it home, with a cheap garage bill. Well, I'm sure the garage had something to do with it as well. Thanks guys.

As I left, Dave, the regular guy had gone home, but I asked one of his mechanics: 'What do you think? Will it make it to Grenoble?'

The man looked back at me, thought about the question, and then replied 'Well, it might do...' That's a high praise. Grenoble here we come!

Longing for Lanzarote

As I drove my motorbike through Bognor this morning (through the cold and sleet), I realised that it was two years ago that our degree group had all met up at Gatwick airport to go on a two week trip to Lanzarote. If you've been a regular reader that long (not that I'm sure that there are any left), yes, it really has been two years since I was taken prisoner by the Lanzarote police, and subsequently escaped with the aide of my friend Michael, and went into hiding suing a gyrocopter.

Seriously though, it was the best vacation (and two weeks) that I have ever had. It annoys me slightly that I know that I will never have such a great holiday again (how can I - two weeks with 30 of the greatest people I have ever known, in a perfect paradise of fun?). But it annoys me even more that I have got to go to the Alpes to face certain injury and peril, and sore knees, and back in just four days! Oh, I wish we were going to Lanzarote instead. Although having said that, I wish we were going anywhere instead (except another ski resort, that would kind of make my point redundant...).

Incidentally, I was riding through Bognor to drop Ernie's car keys off at the garage (God bless W. Jones) so thay he could be serviced in preparation for the 1500 mile throp that awaits...

Happy New Year

Happy New Year everyone. How did you all spend New Year's Eve? Down the pub? 'Round friends houses? At great big parties? I wasted my day learning to ski, and then driving home from Milton Keynes. I've learnt several things.

1. There are not many cars anywhere near as old as Ernie that travel on motorways (the oldest I saw was a 1993 L reg, 7 years newer than my car)

2. I hate skiing.

3. Driving on motorways is the most boring way to spend New Year's Eve.

4. I hate skiing.

5. I am going to be injured in the Alpes when I have to ski for a week.

6. I hate skiing.

7. I can't ski very well, and next week is going to be a disaster.

8. I hate skiing.

9. I really don't like skiing, and I would much rather go to Lanzartote again than the Alpes.

That just about covers the basics. Add to all of those the fact that I don't like skiing, and I think you can see why I might be worried about going to the Alpes for a week to carry out research with Uni. Most people would worry about whether my 22 year old Escort is going to make it accross the continent, but I know that is the one certainty on this trip. Well, that, and the fact I'm going to end up in Hospital.

PS - There are not many people who will give you European Breakdown cover on a car older than 15 years old. Thank goodness for the RAC and the AA!