We also met Sue and Dave off the Jarkan 39 Gannet II, hull number two of this design. Hull number one, Aurora Kiss, was bought by the syndicate we ran in Melbourne, pre Masala. So we had lots to talk about.

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THE GORGEOUS GOZZARD—A YACHT, NOT A CARRION EATER...continued

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As always, there is at least one funny story from our marina stays, although Leanne doesn’t think this one is very funny. The joker (outlet) valve in the bilge pump that is used to pump out our grey water holding tank had failed. So the contents had been stuck in there for some time. In truth, grey water can be as smelly as black water (toilet waste), so this was not a good thing. It was not possible to get a replacement valve in the time we had available.

Right: Masala (lower left) and Gannet II in Keppel Bay Marina. Note Dave and Sue polishing the hull, hard at work while we’ve gone off walking.

THE JOKE IS ON LEANNE

Now both Leanne and I have become adept at solving problems in unusual ways on the boat, born of necessity. In this case, Leanne came to the fore. “I think I can use my hand to imitate the operation of the joker valve,” she said. The look of disbelief on my face must have been pretty obvious. “How,” I spluttered.

“We could redirect the output pipe into a bucket. When you pull the pump handle out and the pump tries to prime, I can cover the end of the output pipe with my hand, to stop it sucking air. Then when you push the pump handle in, I can remove my hand to let the contents flow into the bucket.”

Above: Coral Tree, Keppel Bay

My eyes rolled around my head. Women! What do they know about pumps? There is a lot of force involved as the liquid has to be raised from the tank, which is located deep down in the bilge. Besides, you couldn’t possibly get the timing right. I could think of at least a dozen other reasons why it wouldn’t work. But if there is one thing I learnt from our previous time on Masala, it is “Don’t knock down the ideas of other people, especially if you can’t come up with a better one yourself. Besides, you just might be surprised.” I reminded myself that Leanne had already unstuck one of our valves using her hair dryer.

So we set it up. “When I pull the handle out I’ll yell ‘close’,” I said. “You stick your hand over the end of the pipe. Then when I push it in I’ll yell ‘open’, and you take your hand away.” At least I wasn’t going to be at the danger end. “OK,” Leanne replied. “Go!”

I pumped furiously, yelling ‘close’ and ‘open’. I’m not sure whether it was lack of synchronism in my yelling or in Leanne’s hand, but nothing happened, only gurgling noises. I gave her one of my “I told you so” looks.

“Try again,” she said. “And again.” “And again.” Still nothing. Suddenly, with an ominous rush, the pump primed and a great gout of stinking grey water shot out of the pipe end. No one was more surprised than Leanne, especially as most of it ended up over her. She didn’t know whether to laugh at her success or cry at the mess she was in. It took a few goes to get it just right, during which Leanne wore more stinkies, but in the end we managed to empty the whole tank. I was flabbergasted at the result, but pleased. Leanne was chuffed but not entirely happy with the outcome – she had to rush off to the shower and jump in, clothes and all.