Whilst coming in to moor alongside ‘Medos’ at Chapel Hill, he put his left foot out to try to fend off from the other boat, but somehow got it caught ... the silly fool!.... and his heel was grazed. It was a daft thing to do and he should have known better. He knows quite well how to handle me and should have done it right in the first place, as he normally does and it then wouldn’t have happened.
He was able to ‘first aid’ it and dress it okay and it seemed fine until we arrived here. Then he walked for miles on it when he went shopping on the first day and the heel of his trainer rubbed the spot and made it more painful. So he decided on Friday to find a doctor to look at it to make certain that everything was alright.
This time he’d managed to dig out his old leather clogs, without a back piece so his wound stayed clear. I could have told him to do that in the first place, before he’d done any walking... It would have been a much more sensible idea! Then he traipsed for miles around the town again, trying to find a surgery who would look at the heel.
None could fit him in at such short noticed so in the end he took a taxi to A&E at the local Pilgrim Hospital and they saw him, though he had to wait for about three hours.
The doctor who inspected the heel did have it x-rayed and then, since there was nothing broken, put him on a course of a week’s antibiotics to avoid the threat of infection.
So whereas we were going to leave here on Friday morning originally, the ‘Old Man’ has decided to stay for the weekend just to make sure the antibiotics are working.
So here am I, stuck like a lemon against a wooden, weed encrusted pontoon again..... Before this we seemed to be doing so well too..... I could spit!
In a way though I’m quite glad he’s preoccupied as it means that I can get a word in edgeways on this computer... I haven’t been able to do that for ages.
The trouble is, the Skipper’s too soft for his own good. He was quite happy to walk for miles around the town looking for a surgery and every one of them put him off. If it’d been me I would’ve demanded at the first one that somebody sees me and not move until they did! He’s far too happy to see everyone else’s point of view as well as his own for my liking.
It was the same on the Trent when he tried to rescue that other boat. I’d have just gone straight past, knowing that the tide was ebbing and the rash skipper should have known better than to try to cut corners anyway at that state of the tide. He was quite safe and would just have to wait patiently until the flood tide refloated him.
But not our guy... He had to go in to help if he could and we finished up going aground ourselves. It was alright for him... While waiting to refloat he was able to have a cup of tea and a nice friendly chat to the other party. Never thought for one minute I expect of me stuck in the mud... possibly damaged mortally for all he knew. Huh!
Ah well! Hopefully we shall move tomorrow.
The ‘Boston Stump’ in the afternoon sunlight
Sunset at Boston