In my vast experience with any authority, I've found that they can be likened to the flow of water / Electricity when they are faced with a task that is beyond their personal intellect. They take the Path of least resistance as they set into motion the usual `rear guard ` deployment which then becomes the camouflage of `being seen to be doing`, though the real outcome is to pass the situation on to some other authority who will take the path of least resistance. I name this saga as "being put on a carousel". The individual who tried to get their concerns rectified from the start is given a seat ! The carousel starts off at a snails pace to be tested for their patience and endurance; this is designed to confuse and defeat. The most vulnerable in this `battle` are usually the Elderly, though there are many more concerned people who ride the carousel in Hope.
The revolutions of the carousel are then increased so that those with weak grips are flung off and start to feel that their mental health is being abused so it's better to just forget the whole thing ! My web site is the product of many years of fighting this `wheel of bad fortune`, mostly for the Vulnerable Elderly folk who are alone without a voice or any way of discovering any assistance. Many are now Widowers / Widows after years of caring for their loved one and their lives have rotated around the total 24 hour care for years which made it impossible to find some kind of release for a few hours a week in a hobby or any other activity other than their role as a full time devoted carer. They never would be heard to complain. The elderly are proven strong and independent people who would rather give than take, but now they are discriminated against at every turn as their pure qualities are taken for granted. ( They don't want to be a nuisance ) This is a well known remark that all authorities are well aware of. Care in the community for the Elderly Mentally Impaired, is my next long drawn out saga I'll be chatting about soon... An appalling state of affairs..... But in this `site` I'm opening a forum to try to bring together all those left alone who have latent hobbies that can be reactivated again in complete trust and loyalty amongst new friends here. I'm fully aware that many elderly folk will not have access to the WWW, but I'm hoping to bring together the whole community / Neighbours who only have to knock on the door of those who they think will relish the idea of a new life amongst like minded friends. This could grow to many local groups visiting each others home to share wisdom. I will always be here for phone or mail or even personal visits. My remaining time on this planet is to put the brakes on the `Carousel` and turn it into an international roller coaster. My pain is your gain. Even those who are just entering the long trial of dementia of a loved one can be helped to understand what the signs are and how to handle them before they are full blown, can find this site a valuable friend. BOAT ON A HOT SLATE ROOF
Beryl and I hadn’t had a holiday for 6 six years and our son Robert had arrived on the scene 16 months ago, so I got this idea of hiring a canal/river boat for a week. I had always been intrigued by the water ways of GB and was drawn to any water side, Lake, river, canal, when ever I drove past one. Money was always hard to come by so hiring seemed the only way I would ever get to sail. I got the shock of my life when I received replies to my enquiries from the hire companies, for only a week it was over a hundred pounds. My spirit was hurt at the thought that I would have to be content with dreaming rather than doing. When this shock subsided, I got to thinking that I wasn’t the kind of soul who accepted defeat easily in life. I remembered the obstacles of the past that I had overcome that were much greater than this boat challenge. I first thought of the time when I was one of millions of sperm fighting against great odds of total failure but I was the only one who endured the massive battle to survive to become ME. I had survived the second world war but only just. The bomb had landed two streets away. I was blown out of bed, and at seven years of age I never forgave that Hitler man. From that day on whenever I heard a loud bang or thunder, I would shout at the top of my voice. `It’s raining it’s pouring, Hitler’s fighting Goering. He’s only getting what he deserves for blowing me out of bed that morning.` Fatherless poverty was also overcome throughout the following years until I was `Drafted` into the Army. I survived a bullet that was fired point blank at my head by a stupid fellow soldier, playing `Russian Roulette` in my billet in Egypt. The heat and sound of that bullet passing my right ear is indelibly stamped on my mind. I then remembered, as if I’d ever forget, the trauma that struck me at the age of 21 when I was blinded by an exploding barrel of a chemical substance and ended up in the Manchester Royal Eye Hospital. It was touch and go for a couple of weeks whether I would ever see again. But a long story best left alone. I survived. I sat Beryl down with her cup of tea and started to convince her of my idea to build my own canal cruiser. This wasn’t an easy task because in those days I couldn’t hang a door let alone build anything larger than a rabbit hutch. “I can get the plans for a Nomad Cruiser from a bloke named Percy Blandford who’s a boat designer, they will cost £10.00. No I don’t know what the total cost of the build will be until I see the plans”. We agreed to continue this plan but I could sense the apprehension from Beryl. The postman knocked on the door and presented me with a very large envelope that was too large to go through the letter box. I fumbled on the opening of it with excitement as to what I was about to discover inside. Wowee! The boat drawings were Full Size, One of the many sheets covered the lounge floor. The wood was to be hardwood ribs and 9mm marine ply sheeting. The timber joints were mostly `lap joints`. My next challenge was to go to the local library and find a book on basic wood joining techniques. I spent many hours with this book and experimenting with scrap pieces of soft wood until I was fairly confident to make a solid lap joint. Now for the cost of all the materials that would be needed to finalise the build. I searched boating magazines that didn’t do me any favours regarding our meagre weekly income. Marine grade ply was far to expensive. I looked around at building type `Exterior Grade` 9mm ply and found this to be a lot cheaper than Marine grade by far. It seems the wood veneers are the same grades but the glue that holds them together is not. With the marine ply you can boil it quite a long time before it delaminates, but the Building exterior ply delaminates in a much shorter time. It didn’t take much mental exercise to choose between the two because I would only be sailing in cold water any way. Beryl asked, like all women do, a question that a man wouldn’t of any other potentional boat builder! “Were are you going to build it John? You need more than 20 feet by 8 ft at least” `Well my love, I was thinking of looking around for a place near home that I could hire for about a year. It needs to be close so that the travelling time doesn’t take too much out of the build time because I have to fit it in between my working shifts.` Another obstacle was waiting around the corner. There wasn’t any place that was convenient and the others choices were way over our little budget any way. I was driving my bus one early morning , scanning the local areas when I suddenly came up with a `flash` idea. `I could build it on the kitchen roof which was only about 12ft off the ground. All I have to do is to convince my two adjacent neighbours, either side of our terraced house, that it would be quite safe if they allowed me to build a platform over their roofs for a short period of time to build my dream boat. “You can ask them John, I’m having nothing to do with this crack pot idea”! “Crack pot idea is it”? I replied with indignation. “What is so crack pot about it ? Any one with an ounce of common sense would jump at the idea”. I knocked on Bob’s door and told him I was thinking of building a canal cruiser, he thought it was a great idea and was enthused at my ingenuity. I went to the other neighbour, Mrs Jones, and told her the same thing. She looked at me with a questioning look on her face as if to say, `So why are you telling me”? I returned to Beryl and conveyed what had taken place with my nice neighbours. “ I’m amazed they both accepted your plan to build on their roof”! “Oh I didn’t quite get around to the roof bit yet Beryl”. “ So what exactly did you tell them then”? “Well they both know I’m going to build the boat now Beryl, I’ll now find out what the cost of wood will be to build the platform. I’m going to that `reclaimed` timber firm to see if they’ve got any old 4x2” beams and floor boarding and at what cost”. Yes! Was the answer to my question at the timber yard. I could get all the flooring I wanted for £10.00. Now to the next visit to my nice neighbours. Bob: “Well are you sure it won’t damage our roofing slates etc John?” Me: “Of course not Bob and if it does, I’ll repair it free of cost to you”. Bob: “I’ll have to ask Miriam when she comes home, okay”? Me: “ I’m sure she’ll trust your intuition after all these years of being married to her Bob”. The visit to Mrs Jones was a success too. I went for the flooring in our little Austin A35 van and when I’d loaded it to the hilt, I and the wood man wondered how on earth I was going to get it all home with an over hang of many feet dragging on the road. I had no roof rack, so it all had to be loaded inside with the rear door open. The noise of the dragging timber on the road was so scary. Luckily I had only about a mile to drive home. I wasn’t put off by the other traffic constantly honking me, but I did notice a marked difference in the steering wheels performance. The breaking wasn’t affected too badly because I was stopping even before I applied the brakes, I think the dragging timber was the culprit there. At the rear of our house there was a wide `Dirt` passage, but reversing was not on, even with Beryl sat on the car bonnet so we had to man handle every piece of the timber from car to back yard. I was laying the cross members across the roofing as `Miriam` appeared at her yard door. I waved and smiled my best `neighbour` smile as she gave me a very worried look and turned tail into the safety of her home and not forgetting her long loving husband, my friend Bob. Mrs Jones went away for a couple of weeks! I only wish she hadn’t left her house plants in those cut glass bowls, in the yard. Sods law looks for opportunities like this. Both Sods law and my claw hammer had a field day as my foot accidentally kick the hammer. I had a hell of a job parting Beryl and her cut glass heirloom bowl to replace Mrs Jones` million piece one. What some women will do is beyond me! To leave something that valuable out in the back yard then go on holiday. We got our last bit of savings out of the bank and ordered all the materials for the boat build from the timber yard in Kent. £110.00 delivered. Ok the paint and varnish could be bought at a later date when we had saved enough cash. The delivery arrived within two days. ( Not like today’s 1st class postage that takes for ever) We now had another problem. `Where could we store 22 foot lengths of 2x1” hard wood and many sheets of 9mm x 8ftx 4ft ply. The answer soon became obvious to me. If we left the door open that separated the lobby from the lounge. ( We used to call it the living room before the wood arrived. The `struggle room` was more fitting in the later months though). We could now accommodate every piece of timber and ply, I could always re decorate the damaged wallpaper at a much later date. Women do go on at times! The `Nomad` hull had to be built upside down before turning it over to finish the cabin and superstructure. I built the `transom` first then attached it upside down at the Mrs Jones end, then set the `Stem post` at the Bob’s end. The intermediate frames were built and spaced as plan. Into each of these sections was cut a 2x4” notch that would accommodate the `Eroca` keel, this Eroca wood is very hard and more durable to water than other timbers I had to choose from, but it was necessary to bend this to take the curve of the boat bottom from stem to stern. To bend this 4x2”x 17ft Aroca it’s necessary to steam it first. I didn’t have a steam chest that long, and didn’t then know about using a long plastic 5”soil pipe and pressure cooker for the job, I devised a way of gluing and screwing the stern end of the keel to the sternpost and transom, then carried on with this plan at every frame until I got to where the bend was going to form down to the stem post. The keel at this stage was approximately standing out at a height of 18” to 24”, this is where the steaming had to be applied in my reckoning. I must say at this point in the story that Beryl suffered with fear of heights. I wanted her to sit inside a rope loop that I had hung over the stem end of the keel so that her weight would slowly make the necessary bend as I pored boiling water over a towel draped over the area to be bent. Oh I must tell you though, that I was also going to provide her with an umbrella, I didn’t want to frighten her off you see! Well I persuaded her up the ladder, blindfolded of course, and into my ingenious loop then continued boiling the water in pans and kettle ( an extension lead was led from the bedroom to provide the power) I’m sure I could have finished the job quicker if she wouldn’t have kept on complaining. Ok, I got her a raincoat to appease her, Nag Nag Nag! Oh and I also provided a cushion for her to sit on in the rope loop!!!!! The job got finished then I had to get her down off the roof. She just wouldn’t go through the bedroom window. I just can’t to this day understand why she climbed each rung of the ladder faultlessly going up, but getting down, I was almost calling the fire briga Mrs Jones` daughter came visiting her and asked me what I was making, she asked twice when I said “A canal cruiser”. But she was very intrigued as I explained my plans. She asked me if I would be interested in buying a metal framed tent of 12ft long x 6ft high x 6ft wide for £5.00. I jumped at the offer. Now I could build away from the weather and prying yobo eyes. I must admit I got all kinds of remarks when the tent was erected. “ Is the Mother in law coming to visit”? so on and on it went. Months later the `turning over` was the next priority, Beryl was “Too busy all day!” Bob was too old. Mrs Jones only had one leg. Miriam, OH WELL! I asked my bus conductor friend `Harry` who only had half a brain, but he did what he was told. He still ended up with his right leg trapped beneath the keel. No problem because at this stage the boat was the `right way up` and the damaged trousers were part of his bus guards uniform. The boat was made secure by screwing it to the floor board roof and some special wedges I made to keep it absolutely straight and true. The tent being only 12ft long and the boat being 17ft needed some thought on how to be fully under cover in the bad weather. I cut down the corner seams at the `Bob’s` end and that made the 6ft high panel reach out to make the 12ft into 18ft. The open sides were covered with plastic sheeting to complete the weather proofing. I could now have a power lead inside the boat for heating etc. Things were looking great now, and I was getting along very nicely indeed. I would even sit eating my dinner etc inside whilst dreaming of distant lands at the helm. I’d fitted the sleeping bunks, cooker and toilet cabinets. The windows I made from Perspex all round. I was able to work in any weather conditions in relative comfort. One very wet and windy evening when I arrived home from a late shift, I found Beryl was in a panic state because she thought the boat was going to be blown off the roof. No matter how much I tried to ease her worries, she still wanted me to go and check that all was well or she wouldn’t sleep that night. I got my torch and ladder and went up to check all the tie ropes etc. They were fine! I was about to get down off the wet and windy roof when I thought to myself, `Oh I’ll just have a little peek inside to see if `My little ship` was comfy and dry. I parted the side entrance flap and started scanning around inside with the torch. The beam landed on a very scared human face, the face of a young boy / man of about 17 to 18 years old. He burst into tears as my light caught is wide eyes of sheer terror. My first reaction was of, “What the ******* are you doing in here”? only to withdraw my harsh note when he looked so frightened and desolate. I climbed in the cabin to sit with him and to assure him I had no intention of hurting him or calling the police. The ensuing conversation was that he had left home from Southampton, I think it was, because his father was always beating and abusing him. He knew of a friend in Salford so he thought he would hitch hike to there and ask if he could stay with him for a while. It turned out that when he got to his friends street, it had been demolished and he had no idea where to go from there. He was roaming the streets and back entries to find some kind of shelter from this harsh wet weather, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing when he saw this tent on the roof. He climbed the yard door and lifted the tent corner to see if he could get out of the wind and rain. He was overjoyed when he saw the dry boat with a covered cabin and bunks thinking he would be safe while the next morning. I chatted to him for a while and told him I was on my next duty at 6.30 am the next day and he was welcome to stay until then but must move on before I went to work, which he thanked me for in tears. ( ALL Dads are not bullies ) I closed the flap and went into the house to find Beryl still very concerned why I was so long seeing things were in safe order. I assured her all was well and not to worry she had our supper laid out in front of the open coal fire. I wasn’t going to tell her about this episode outside but I just couldn’t let this lad go hungry in that kind of weather conditions. “Have we got any meat pies in the fridge love?” I asked. Beryl looked puzzled when she asked. “ Isn’t this supper enough for you John”? “ Yes it’s fine, I just wanted to know if we had any pies”> “ Yes we have two in the fridge, do you want them for work tomorrow ?” It was then I had to tell her why I wanted the pie. She lept up from her chair and told me she couldn’t sleep knowing he was just outside our bedroom window. “He could murder us in the night!” I calmed her down guaranteeing my observations of this lads character and innocence, were on solid ground and that my instruction to him for the next day would be adhered to. I took him his hot cup of tea and meat pie. I sat with him a while saying he should go to the naval recruiting office in Blackfriers, assuring him that this would be a wise move for his future prospects, and that there are many lads like himself in the Services who have regained there confidence and self respect. To then go on have a long and distinctive career. I still often wonder whatever happen to this lad. He had left the boat that morning before I left for work by the way. I was so touched by what I found on top of the galley cupboard when I went to check if he was still there. He had left me what I can only suspect was his only possession and that was a very small goldish `finger` ring that resembled a platted belt with a buckle. If I never get a genuine heart felt thank you again in my life, that ring was enough to last me a life time. I was so pleased with myself at keeping this build secret from prying eyes, especially the dreaded press. Then one day I can home to find many press people around my door armed with cameras. I got the usual press `swarm` asking me if they could take pictures of my boat with the tent taken off. I told them to get lost and leave me alone as this was our dream boat and we didn’t need the press to inform the Yobo’s where it was. A bloke who said he was from the Evening news paper asked me how I came up with this fantastic idea of building a boat on the roof. I told him about our lack of money and space was the catalyst. This bloke was so good at what he does, he continued to get through my barrier by saying. “ Do you not realise that there are many men out there in this world who are in the same position that you found yourself in, and that they would love to see your picture and story to kick start their family dream”? I caved in at this and was soon on the roof taking down the tent while these photographers stormed over every nook and cranny, even Miriam was pleased they asked her if they could photograph from her premises. There was `The Sun . Evening news and Daily Mirror news papers present on site. “So how will you get it off the roof John”? Another of my sweet wife’s enquiries. Oh ye of little faith! “I see that crane firm `Goodfellow` has just acquired a new long reaching hydraulic crane that can reach over any roof “ I replied I must admit though, that the newspapers got me attention that brought a `free crane lift from a very good man called Frank Wallwork the scrap dealer. That `Goodfellow` crane was to be £100.00 to lift me over the roof . I had already got a plan in mind to put a scaffolding set up out over the rear passage with tubes sloping down to a trailer. I had neither the scaffolding nor the trailer yet, so that visit from Frank Wallwork was a blessing. He knocked on my front door and introduced himself and proceeded to ask could he be of any help in lifting my boat off the roof and trailing it to the canal inlet at Worsley `Bridgwater Canal`. This was months before the boat was ready for lifting. I informed him so, and asked how much would it cost me. To my amazement he replied. “ Not a penny, I just admire your ingenuity and want to offer my help so just contact me at this address when you’re ready”. He then drove off with a smile and wave. I received another knock on my door a few days later to find a man and his wife, Ron & Lillian Bowers. “I’m the membership secretary of the Worsley Cruising Canal Club and we would like you to become a member, we need people like you in our club please accept our offer John”. I accepted immediately of course. Ron asked where I was going to moor my boat when the holiday was over, I told him I had no idea I was going to face that when I got back. He informed me that moorings are few and rare, but I could moor up on the club `Short stay` plot for a couple of weeks, that’s the rule. A long story cut short here: All went well with the club. Within a year I took over as the new membership sec’ and soon became the Chairman a couple of years later. A great lot of members they were too. I was almost ready for the lift and my annual holiday time was three weeks off. I estimated that the boat would be finished on the Sunday, the day before my holiday started. My time was so close for the finish so I contacted the Newspapers who had asked me to inform them when the lift was to be. I was told by every one of them that they were so sorry but their camera people didn’t work on Sunday. I drove to Franks house and told him of my tight schedule and Sunday was the only day I could have the boat finally ready for the lift, and of the newspapers response. He told me there was no problem with the papers, because he wasn’t doing this for anyone else but me. The only problem was that he was bringing his whole yard staff to help and it being Sunday he would need to ask them. The very next day I received a call from Frank telling me that his lads would all be there on Sunday at 8.0am because they also wanted to be a part of this occasion., and they wouldn’t hear of any offers of money too. So 8.am Sunday there was a knock on the door, it was Frank and his four lads with a trailer, plus his home made hydraulic crane, made from an old RAF bomb towing tractor, and a fine expert job it was too. The lift was quite an attraction for the local neighbours and was soon satisfactorily completed. My brother in law Len and my Bus guard mate Harry also turned up to help. I did notice that Harry kept well away from using his leg as a wedge again though. He did quite a bit of head scratching too. We left the house to a rousing cheer from all the neighbours. Beryl , Son Robert and I had also decided to start our two week holiday on that very Sunday so the boat was loaded with all the necessary goods, not forgetting the gas saving pressure cooker and `Bruce` the guard dog :o) The Mother in law had the small bottle of `Babycham` in her hand bag for the launching. ( well at this stage, money was very tight indeed) The launch went as planned and I took all the `motly` crew into the Bridgwater Hotel, I insisted I buy them all they could drink in 10 minutes. I did have a tide to catch after all :o) I took them two at a time a run up the canal, I was so pleased my creation was floating the right way up after all. This dream had given me confidence in myself to further my future in business etc. I became a self made Man without any assistance from None existent Father or Uncles, brothers or Granddads |
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