I couldn’t resist

Just ploughing through some recruitment pages after a tip off I received yesterday and found this little gem.

 

English Language Requirement / Certification

English is the working language onboard all our vessels. Any applicants who do not hold a UK issued Certificate of Competence must be able to demonstrate a high level of understanding in the English language by passing the ISF Marlins English Language Test at an MCA recognised test centre. This also applies to UK CEC holders. Our requirements depend on the area of operation and flag of the vessel. Please note our requirements for each vacancy. Online tests are not accepted.

If you are unable to produce an ISF English Marlins Test Certificate with our minimum requirements, please do not apply, your application will not be concidered.

For more information on the ISF English Marlins test Click here.

 

I just had to email them and tell them they had a spelling mistake in the penultimate paragraph – I don’t suppose I will get a job with them !!  Maybe it was a test – I passed with flying colours?

 

 


Splash and Dash

Just a quick splash – tanks weren’t even empty, just topping them up after 6 days at sea.  Not bad for a wind powered boat you might think?

IMG_20190122_093246.jpg

 

Looks like we will be weather bound in Palma for a while.  Snow on the mountain tops.  Stopped in Ibiza on the way across and had hail on the decks while we were docked in Ibiza town.

Thats all I wanted to say really – nothing more to add at the moment but will be back soon with something spectacular, if not epic, I am sure.

 

Until then – something for the ladies…….Spaz Jazz

 

 

 

 

 


Busting at the seams

Its a bug bear.  You find a coffee shop and place your order.  The girl behind the counter asks you for your name, even though you have asked for your coffee to stay (in a proper cup, not that disposable crap). I have a strong dislike (SJ) for this.  Take my order, take my payment but why do you need my name?

Has there been an epidemic of thefts in coffee shops that I missed being reported on John Cravens Newsround?  I doubt it.

Today, I gave my name as ‘Queen Latifah’.  The girl looked at me quizzically for a moment before realising my game and smiling.

 

En route to sunny Portugal this morning.  Looks like I have a buyer for the love shack down in Sagres. Landing in Faro soon and then off to the bank in Lagos to watch a young couple transfer some euros to me and then sign the pre sale agreement.  Just in the nick of time with brexit looming.

Motorway was blissfully quiet at 4am, almost had a heart attack when the satnav told me I had missed my turn for Gatwick.  I was sure I hadn’t, turns out I was right.  That sat nav needs updating.

Here’s hoping for a drone free departure.  Back tomorrow night before heading for a weekend spa with my bird.

Back to work on Tuesday, setting sail soon for Athens.

 

Visited Eden in Cornwall over christmas.  Never been before and its fair to say, I won’t be heading back.  Check out the photo below of the special light show that was planned for my visit.

After looking around for a few hours, we waited patiently for the light show to start.  Eventually, I went to the information point to ask what time it all kicked off, only to be told ‘it has been running all day’.

What !!  £62 to see a light show that I hadn’t even noticed was turned on,   £10 for a burger and chips…….! Nah, Eden, you are not for me.  Huge disappointment.  Shame on you.

 

The flyer below promised so much.  In reality, there was nothing to see, absolutely nothing.  What a con.

 

 

 

I did manage to catch up with Alex Clifton, AKA Alex Faggotpants, AKA Mr. Brittas while in Cornwall though.  A coffee and a chat at the once majestic Blue Bar in Porthtowan.  Blue has changed a lot since my last visit probably 15 years ago or more.  Used to be one of those sand on the floor, post surf party holes that Hollywood try to mimic in their movies.  It was a cool place.  Now, just full of the london jet set, all guff, FIGJAM’s and skinny mocha choca gluten free soya iced lattes.

And they call that progress.  The human race is doomed.


Welcome Mr. Adrian Jones !

For those of you that are unaware, I have been in Falmouth for the last few weeks, helping an old chum with a yacht.  As you might expect, in England, it pisses down every day.  So far, just one day without rain but that wasn’t long enough for the puddles to dry up.

So yesterday, I found myself on another walking mission to Trago Mills.  For the uninitiated, Trago Mills is a local phenomenon in Cornwall.  A local and well established small chain of large shops, that, as far as I can tell, sell a little bit of everything.  Their shops are an aladins cave of stuff, shops so big you get lost.  It always reminds me of that scene from Father Ted when all of the priests get ‘lost’ in the lingerie section – the largest in Ireland.

 

Stay focused now.

A trip to Trago’s is always something to get excited about.  Primarily because you always see something new while you are there but more interestingly because it passes the oldest pasty shop in Cornwall (their claim , not mine).

On this particular day, I called in mid afternoon.  This is a perfect time of day to go into a pasty shop as everything is half price – or, if you are particularly good at maths conversion – two for the price of one!

I have been slowly working my way through their full pasty menu with each trip to Trago, the chicken pasty I had last time was somewhat disappointing.  This time, I think the timeless classic of ‘mature cheddar and onion’ was called for.

Just out of the corner of my eye I spied a sausage roll. Not just a normal, average, run of the mill sausage roll but an all singing, all dancing , art deco, full of twat waffle, designed especially for the london fashionistas, FIGJAMS’s sausage roll.

So I left the shop with the pasty in my pouch pocket and the sausage roll in my hand. It wasn’t bad to be honest. By the time I got to Trago’s door, the roll was gone. Normally, with a pasty, I would have to stand outside for a few minutes while I finished it off.

Not today.  Pasty in my pouch, I went in.  No doubt stinking the place out.  I could see the shop staff, sniffing the air, they could smell a pasty close by, but they knew not where. It was a bit of fun if I am honest, there can be nothing meaner than the tempting waft of a genuine Cornish pasty under the noses of locals while they work.

I bought my electrical connectors and left.  As soon as I was over that threshold, I whipped that pasty out of my pouch and bit the corner off.  I looked back into the shop and they were all zombified, walking round hunting a pasty like a zombie hunts the living.  Hhhhmmmmmmm   paaasty.

It wasn’t over though.

Walking back to the car on this blustery and rainy day, I suddenly felt the force and flapping of what I assumed was a carrier bag blowing in the wind.  Undaunted, I held my pasty and kept walking.  It was only a cheeky fecking seagull trying to steal my pasty.  Brazen as hell, crashed into my shoulder and the side of my head trying to get a beakfull of Cornwalls finest.

I hung on to my pasty though – that gull was getting none of it.  He hovered and circled for a few seconds while I stared at him (without blinking), called him a few names, threw a few insults at him, things like ‘your mamma eats left over KFC’ or ‘you’ll never get a job as a touch typist with that wing span’,  and it seemed to do the trick.  He backed off and let me go on my way.

Food hygiene was my next thought – I had no idea where that beak had been all day.  Easily solved that one, turn the pasty around in the bag and eat it from the other end.

 

Awesome.

Bird arrives on saturday with the grand daughter – if they are lucky, I might just treat them to a pasty and a trip to trago. Had a Russian ship aground this morning at Gilly beach.

 

Cornwall Rocks!

 


Password Etiquette

Miffed by it all?  I am.

Those tech geeks do it just to piss us all off. The meek really will inherit the earth.

There are a couple of things I don’t understand about passwords.  Let me explain.

I have three passwords in total.  Facebook has its own, that is not shared with any other application purely and simply because I don’t trust those feckless dimwits. Anything financial has the most complex of passwords – currently a 16 digit alpha-numeric with symbols and caps/lower case, you know the king of sites, Amazon, Virgin Atlantic, Trainline etc etc, then lastly for anything else I have an 11 digit alpha numeric for lower level security stuff.

This is where it startes to get tricky.

So Virgin, to point a finger, won’t let me have the 16 digit password, it says its too long. So for booking flights and train tickets, I have to remember a different password

Qatar Airways to point another finger, also wont accept a 16 digit password but also insist that I include ‘special characters’.

Hotels.com to really get my goat, wont accept a full stop as a special character in an already complex alpha numeric, caps/lower case password.

So that leads to two versions of my super secure password

 

Now, forgetting a password shouldn’t be such a problem right ? we can answer our memorable questions???

Dream on !

This , I really don’t understand.  Why do I have to choose a memorable question from their drop down list of completely irrelevant questions, questions that I have to think hard for a suitable answer, one that I will never remember in the future.

Why can’t I write the question AND the answer?  After all, the proof they need is the correct answer to match the question.

For example

Question one – what is my shoe size

Question two – first 4 digits of my phone number

Simple right? questions I would know and remember instead of ‘who was my first teacher’ or ‘the name of my first pet’ or better still ‘the name of your village or town’.  That one I especially like.  Ask anyone that travels like me the name of their town and you could get a different answer every month.

So Tech Nerds

 

UP YOURS

 


God is a DJ

It really doesn’t get any better than this.  For the last few days, I have been chasing out earth leaks on the boat.  For those not in the know, an earth leak is stray electricity – going somewhere it shouldn’t.  Can be catastrophic on a boat.

 

So this morning I started on the 3rd distribution box that is showing a leak.  Quite a thankless task searching for leaks, Isolate a box, break all the live sides, then unscrew all the neg sides in the back of the box, fiddling through the breakers and cables with your finger, careful not to drop those tiny screws and washers. Then, one cable at a time, reconnect and test for leaks with each individual connection.  Gets a bit painful if you have 30 or so breakers in a box, even more painful when your access to the test box is in a crawl space under the floor.

Well today, I found this little beauty to help me speed through the day – there is a god!

 

 

 

 

 

 


I predict a Riot

Have to start off with – I AM LOVING THE NEW NOKIA !!!!

 

Let me remind you – all the specs of a Samsung or iPhone, dual sim, expandable memory, two cameras blah blah blah – machined from a single billet of aluminium so going to be tough as hell but here is the clincher……….since last saturday, that is now 6 nights ago, I have only charged it twice.  I shit you not, two charges in a week. A smart phone that only needs charging twice in a week – that has to be something special.  OK, so I am not a person that uses my phone heavily but I have used it for GPS tracking, text, calls and even for a while in the week, I used it as a wireless router so that I could play Xbox live!!

Still not convinced?  well, it has that famous Nokia ring tone but the real show stopper – ⅓ the price of an iPhone or Samsung equivalent. So when that Gorilla glass on your Samsung breaks when a fly lands on it, or your kids drop your iPhone and the glass breaks and you are faced with a £200 repair bill (and a weeks wait while it is repaired if you choose Samsung), think about the Nokia.  Break the screen on this little beauty and its cheap enough to go and buy a new one.  Forget £80 a year to insure your phone against damage that is should realistically be able to withstand – GO NOKIA !!

I chose the uber sexy black and copper for my 6.1 plus and it looks slick, feels robust and runs sweetly on Android One.

A big thumbs up to the Fins !

 

There – done.

 

Now lets talk V8, more specifically V8 supercharged, and most precisely V8 Supercharged – shaped like a brick.

I left Bedworth last Friday afternoon heading for Falmouth at around 16:00.  I tapped the post code into my SatNav and the route came up, something like 280 miles.  Very shortly after that, the message appeared, ‘not enough fuel for journey’.  Funny huh – my tank was full but the beast wanted to use it all.  I did manage to coax it along though and arrived in Falmouth with 20 miles of spare fuel.

Next Morning I headed to Redruth.  I thought ah, Tesco will have the cheapest fuel around here. I was wrong.  They were 5p a litre more expensive than a local stop in Falmouth that I drove past to get there.  I splashed £12 in quickly as I was off the bottom of the gauge, and that splash never even registered, still showing nada after a £12 tipple.  I drove back to Falmouth and filled the little beauty up.

So now I sit in Falmouth Harbour all alone on a boat.  The crew are all taking time off and I am enjoying relaxing and playing Xbox on my lonesome (yep , I brought my Xbox and TV with me).  Its blowing a hoolie but I am relaxed – I mean, what could I do if it went tits up?  I am all alone and being blown onto the dock. Safe as houses !!

Still looking for my new job – harder than I was expecting it to be with my newly upgraded licence.

 

Hey Conor – whasssssuuupp


%d bloggers like this: