The Hall of Shame

The HA Award for 2008/2009

It is now time to give out our least prestigious award, which recognizes the greatest nautical atrocity of the year.  Once again, I have fended off the possibility of becoming the first 3 time winner by becoming an inactive boater, and even better by weaseling my way into becoming the judge, jury and presenter. The award usually results from some act which brings Norvan into disrepute, or which is the antithesis of all for which we stand.  Who can forget Jack Hunter’s demonstration of water walking, Ralph Murray’s swan dive from his bridge into his own cockpit, Lee Hawkins’ demolition docking, Bill Alcock’s repeated attempts to use water for fuel, Bob Johnston’s rock ramming and self confession and Jennifer Shaw’s laying waste to Vancouver Marina and her own vessel while attempting to go for a cruise, then, like Bob, relating details of her adventure to all and sundry.  Except for Bob, none of these involved navigation per se, just incompetence.  We teach navigation, not intelligence or even common sense, and while simply being on or near a boat may qualify one for this award, it  is better earned by one who disregards what we do teach.

Paper has been around since the days of the early Egyptians.  Paper charts, of varying accuracy, almost appeared with the invention of the boat.  Thanks to eons of inspections, including those participating in our MAREP programme, they are now virtually foolproof, so what is a fool to do?

Well, based on the adage that if you want to screw something up you should use a computer, things took a more technical turn as the electronic chart and its plotters were devised.  Our first HA recipient of this revelation was Gus Decock, who stubbornly refused to believe his own chart plotter, or even turn it on, went the wrong side of a day beacon and enjoyed a $6,000 stay at a Nanaimo dry dock.  This year, something similar.

Our hero, an experienced boater, had recently purchased a new boat in partnership with some poor b**d who didn’t know what he was getting into in the partnership department.  Regardless, he (our hero, not the dumb b**d) decided that Mannion Bay, just around the corner from Snug Cove, was a great place to moor.  Hearing this, the person who related this tale to me advised him to watch out for the big rock in the hook to the south.  When asked how she knew about it, she replied that it was on the chart, and she had seen it at low tide.  Presumably looking somewhat sheepish, our hero petulantly replied “well, its not on the GPS charts that I was looking at”. 

Pressed for details, he unwisely confided that he had become very well acquainted with said rock as one of his $1,600 props folded like a dying 4 leaf clover, the shaft took on a new profile and his rudder developed a smile.  But not the skipper.

Apparently Ted Lewis was also noisily introduced to this rock, but too long ago to qualify.  After years as our Public Relations Officer, who apparently learned to impart information, but to the wrong people, Web Teetzel, you are Norvan’s Horse’s A** 2009.

 

 

Last growth spurt on May 26, 2008