Going Stir Crazy

The last two months have been a real education for us, and the lesson learned is ‘patience’. With continuing gearbox problems that have held us in Marmaris Yacht Marine for longer than we anticipated Liz and I have had to find ways to while away the hours. Here are some of the dumb-ass things we’ve done to keep us entertained (and believe me, after reading this you’ll be disgusted that we even have the time to come up with some of these ideas):


Rid the world of speedophiles!

Rid the world of speedophiles!

Whilst observing the sunbathers in the pool from the comfort of the restaurant we noticed that a very large proportion of the over-weight northern European men sport some horrific swimwear. So horrific, in fact, that we took to taking the camera with us every lunch time in order to record some of mankind’s worst crimes against humanity. So ghastly that Liz very quickly came up with the term ‘speedophile’, describing any man who dares wear skimpy swimming briefs. So outrageously vile and gruesome that Liz has actually launched a new website, www.speedophile.com.

The aim of www.speedophile.com is to out speedophiles and eventually ban this ridiculous beach-wear. We’ve already created a holding page and set up an email address for people to send in their candid shots of men in banana hammocks. Proposed plans for the site, which will be developed as a winter project, include terminology, top tens, ratings, events etc. We also set up a group in Facebook to help support the development of www.speedophile.com, which recruited fifty members within three hours of its launch!

Watch this space, spread the word, send us your snaps and help us ban this punishment on humankind.

Knob Chariot
This one stems back from my teenage years when, returning from the local boozer, drunk, my mates and I would scribble a knob in the dust/dirt/condensation of car windows. The trick was to see how big and how quickly we could draw glans-peni. Sadly, at the age of thirty seven, I still do this. Completely retarded, I know, but you’d be surprised how much joy and satisfaction it brings, and if you don’t believe me, ten grown-up sailors will testify to this. Liz, at the age of fifty, is evening contemplating setting up www.knobsoncars.com, with the aim of collecting photographs of knob-art from around the world.

This all started with the hire car that our American friend Nate had for three months. From the first week we met him his first knob was drawn on the boot window. As the weeks progressed and more crew from around Yacht Marine got bored, so did the number of knobs that appeared on Nate’s hire car. When he returned the car after three months, it looked something like this:

KC from the rear

KC from the side

KC roof

KC from above

KC from the rear

KC from the rear

Stealing Golf Carts/Tricycles
If your marina is fortunate enough to have golf-carts and tricycles knocking about, why not help yourself to one for your return journey after a heavy night in the bar? In an early incident Liz and I ‘borrowed’ the shop’s tricycle, which has a large basket on the back for carrying provisions. After taking five minutes to get the thing going (Liz sitting in the basket was playing havoc with my balance) we eventually rode across the marina, down four steps onto the pontoon, along another 20 metres to the corner, and stacked the thing. I’d dipped the front wheel in the water, pulled it back and ended up with the trike on top of us. A passing kindly gentleman nonchanantly sauntered over, lifted the bike off of us, and politely suggested that it best if he return the tricycle to the shop. In a similar incident Liz and I took a tricycle each and raced back to the boat. I got to our pontoon to find Liz on her back, playing dead. It kind of backfired when three passers by raced over to her, asking if she was ok. Unbeknown to her the whole thing was recorded on CCTV and she was ridiculed by the shop staff the next day.

Better than tricycles, however, are golf carts. After discovering that the key to our outboard padlock fits and operates the ignition of the golf cart, I took to helping myself to one, much to the disgust of night security. The best incident was when, unbeknown to Ben, Becks and Liz, I grabbed a cart, raced up to the Big Stupid Boat shouting ‘quick, get in’ and took them for a spin towards Esper. We passed a security guy going the other way on his scooter and all ducked, thinking he’d miss us, but of course he turned his scooter round and gave chase. With the heat on we hit the next corner, only to be facing head-on to another security guy. Now it was chicken! The security guys, however, were canny and pulled off a pincer attack, with one coming up along side and the other still aiming straight at us. As I decelerated Ben, who was sitting on the back with Liz, dived off the cart, did a forward roll and disappeared into the bushes. Liz then stepped off and ran, leaving Becks and myself in the front looking rather confused. When asked for my details I attempted to convince them that my name was Oscar and that I was the skipper of the Big Stupid Boat. After a slap on the wrists we were actually given the real ignition key to the cart, drove Becks back to Esper, and had the cart returned for us by security. Becks and I have never forgiven Ben and Liz for their yellow-bellied cowardice, despite their argument that they were taking point and covering us from the rear.

Just make the rules up

Just make the rules up

You’ve probably played this one before but our rules are a little different. The first rule is that you change the rules as you play. You score double points for a rude word but you’ll quickly realise how difficult it is to make a rude word with seven random letters. So then you can start spelling phoenitically. If that doesn’t help then try spelling words backwards. Finally you can share letters with the player on the left. Here’s a pic of our board after playing for an hour. Some are obvious and some are not so obvious. Note the vertical stretch of letters on the left. This started with Emma playing the word ‘jiz’. I followed by suggesting that someone who jiz’s is a ‘jizer’. On my next play I argued that a jizer who jiz’s frequently can be described as ‘jizerlot’……and so on. A rude with with Js and Zs on a triple word score soon racks up the points.

Adopt a Cat
Bored with each other’s company? Then why not adopt a cat? In Turkey cats and dogs are aplenty and with so many yard cats around you’ll soon have one or two boarding, looking for food. We’ve taken to travelling with cat and dog food, just in case. Don’t get too attached to the adult strays though, they’re more used to land and only come aboard for a bite to eat and a quick pet.

If you do want a cat, then get a kitten. We did and it’s been hilarious! For more info see the section on our new crew member.

Look at me. Don't you want to keep me? Source: Liz Cleere

Look at me. Don't you want to keep me? Source: Liz Cleere

Write An Essay On How Bored You Got
If all else fails, just sit at a computer and write a pointless essay about how bored you got and all the things you did to amuse yourself. The creation of this page whiled away two hours of my life.

Perhaps now you’ll realise how important it is to get that gearbox working ASAP!

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