Birvidik

Hmm.... Seem to have run a bit behind. Well, 2 months behind to be accurate.

In the interests of the sanity of our remaining reader this will be a highly condensed summary of events from 9th August to the 10th September. There have been enough complaints about wading through acres of prose already. You will also be relieved to learn that the digression on Italian public toilets has been adjourned sine die. From 11th September to the present will follow hot on the heels.

From Teulada we sailed to Zaffarano. This is a closed area for most of the year as it serves as an artillery firing range for the Italian armed forces. In July and August, however they all seem to go on holiday and so boats, local and foreign, can anchor here without being used for target practice. As a result of its almost year round isolation it is unspoilt (apart from the considerable amount of spent ordnance lying around).

On arrival we took the dinghy ashore and went for a wander, where we gaily tripped over old shell casings, bits of impeller primed shells and other rather worrying debris. In July and August all and sundry are free to clamber around and blow themselves to pieces. We worked on the assumption that the target practice took place with unprimed shells. Well, we did reckon that even the somewhat laid-back Italians would draw the line at letting Joe Public blunder about amongst the remnants of live, unexploded ammunition.

The area is (not surprisingly) totally uninhabited and therefore unspoilt. We could go on and on waxing lyrical about the beauty of the place, but it's probably best to leave that to the photo gallery.

We backtracked to Cagliari to pick up Karen and Jamie, who arrived on the 18th August. They stayed until the 28th, during which time we revisited most of the stops on the South coast. They managed to bring some Jersey weather with them for a period, as we ended up anchored in winds varying from force 6 to force 8 for about 4 days. The new Manson anchor proved its worth by not dragging an inch, even when the boat in front dragged down on us and hooked its anchor round our chain. Our anchor held both boats in 35 knot winds. Most impressive.

Jamie seemed to enjoy himself, spending most of his time in the water (voluntarily). When he wasn't in the water he was on the computer, which kept him occupied for hours - worth every ampere. At the end he produced a very effective and amusing, multimedia powerpoint presentation on his holiday, including fan generated wind and paper spray.

After they had gone back, Bob decided to give the toilet pipes a quick once over with acid again before we left for Sicily. In went the hydrochloric acid, gurgle, gurgle fizz. Leave for a while. To and fro went the pump to pump it out, clank, clank, boing, snap, crunch, break. Ah - hydrochloric acid laying in system and no way of pumping it through.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, true enough. He's a physicist really, not a chemist. The seeds of doubt started nagging away in the back of his mind: bronze seacock, hmm. Bronze is copper and tin. Copper isn't affected by hydrochloric acid, is tin? It's fairly low down the series. Look it up. Oh Bugger:

Sn + 2 HCl = SnCl2 + H2

Look at seacock from interior - small amount of wet stuff seeping through. Panic. Take deep breath. Calm down. Visualise corroded seacock disintegrating halfway between Sardinia and Sicily, letting large quantities of Mediterranean into boat. Hyperventilate. Consider probability that this seepage may be normal due to seacock bedding down. Remain unconvinced by self. Soddit - go and pay man large amount of money to lift boat out with bloody great crane.

Dismantle seacock - not corroded at all. Grind smooth, regrease and rebed. Clean hull, prop, bowthrusters and anodes while at it. Boat back in water 6 hours and �300 later. Miss weather window for Sicily. Spend extra week in Cagliari waiting for new weather window.

We used the time to do a bit of maintenance. "When was the last time we tested the engine driven bilge pump?" asked Liz, innocently. "Lost in the mists of prehistory" replied Bob. "Don't you think we ought to do it then?" asked Liz with what appeared to be a question but was, in fact, an imperative.

Once again being driven to good practice by Liz, Bob poured a few bucketsful of water into the deep bilge, started the engine, turned on the pump and looked over the side to see the Niagara-like flow spurting out the side of the boat like a firefighting barge. Nothing. Well, there were a few gurgling noises but no water. Not so much as a trickle.

Bob enters analysis mode. Perhaps the impeller is damaged. Remove casing - impeller fine. Perhaps it's too high a lift from the bottom of the bilge and the pump can't prime. Split inlet hose at join, fill with water and ask Liz to switch on pump, confidently expecting water to pour out of side of boat. To his surprise, this failed to happen. On the contrary the entire contents of the hose and pump were ejected with considerable force straight in his face and chest with a similar effect to that of water cannon on rioting students.

This was unexpected and confusing, not to mention dispiriting. The pump was pumping the wrong way. Interesting implication - if we had got into trouble and tried to use it, all we would have succeeded in doing was pump water into the boat even more effectively than the leak would have been doing.

After double checking the hose connections, Bob spent some considerable time impugning the parentage of whoever installed the pump - "What kind of incompetent, half-wit, shit-for-brains would install a powerful bilge pump and fit the inlet and outlet hoses the wrong way round?"

Then, after spending a couple of hours cutting, re-routing and joining hoses, the awful and embarrassing truth hit him.

Impeller pumps will work equally well in both directions.

The pump is driven by a belt from the main engine.

We had a new engine fitted a few years ago.

When the engine was fitted we had to have a new propeller fitted.

Because the new engine rotated in the opposite direction to the old engine.......

Ah bless! It's a miracle they've got as far as they have. Next stop Sicily (with a bit of luck).