He go for offshore agin

Just when the summer madness in dear Thanet was reaching its peak the good lord of sailors and warranty surveyors came and delivered a miracle of niceness. In thanks I shall deliver the sailor’s prayer.

 

Oh lord above

Send down a dove

with wings as sharp as razors

to the cut the throats

of them there blokes

that sell bad beer to sailors

 

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The smaller, auxiliary block of the Thialf’s starboard crane. Photo taken in the summer of 2013.

 

Tomorrow allatsea goes to that tarn that we all lurve to hate, Aberdeen. Overnight there in that delightful hotel, the Britannia (he lies, it’s a puke stained shit heap staffed with obese phuckwits) and then the 0640 to Sumburgh the following day. There, all being well and the fog having stayed away, get met by some agent peeps and get whisked away to join the HGBCS (huhegreatbigcraneship) THIALF. Allatsea’s home from home for the next month or so…….probably.

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Cousin Baz

Today’s the weather’s a bit kakk. Hooray, no car parking madness on the Esplanade. Peace and quiet.

Bang bang bang on the front door, it seemed like a 20 stone rugby player was using a 14 pound hammer to knock the thing off its hinges. Nope, not that at all, just cousin Baz popping round for a ‘chat’, Tassimo and a rant. Bless. It’s good to see him but he does get a bit hot under the collar about the simplest of things ( good job allatsea isn’t like that) and when fully wound up God help any liberals or noncy poncy do-gooders  within gobbing range. It can be horrid to watch, albeit justified, most of the time.

His latest tirade was vented at the Commonwealth Games. Two things were VERY under his collar today.

One is the invention by the BBC and certain elements of the printed press that Glasgow is some kind of tolerant, chilled, multicultural, Shangri-La of goodness and all things nice.

It isn’t. It’s an enthusiastic pisshead’s utopia of pubs, brutal humour, puke, attitude and secular hatred. Try being an Englishman in town on old firm derby day. You’ll see what’s meant. That said, allatsea loves the place; pity there aren’t more places as honest and upfront in the UK.

Secondly, ‘Rythmic Gymnastics’! WTF is that all about and why did the BBC go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on about it being wonderful??

It’s a sanitised form of POLE Dancing especially created to satisfy paedos, kiddy fiddlers and pervs!!! Young females made up to look like $5 crack whores and seemingly at a career cross roads (Prostitute? Escort? Lap dancer? Rythmic gymnast?), jerking about on a mat, ostensibly keeping time to some crap X-factor type music track and thrusting their jack&danny in the air. Jeeeeeeessuss H Christ, get a grip! It’s hideous!!

All that said, he did enjoy the English mastery of  the Double Trap events. Fine stuff. I always imagine that each puff of phosphorescent powder that bursts forth following a hit, is the sanctimonious tosh being slapped out of your average Guardian reader. A very therapeutic thought indeed. Sigh! If only there was more of it to see. A chap can live in hope.

Anyway, Baz and I are off darn the tarn. Lunch is on me this week and the bacon rolls in College Square are the best around. This would normally be followed  by a 6 hour session in Spoons and a stagger back to the Towers but sadly this won’t happen today. The jamjar is in for a service and there’s a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be a jolly expensive one. A chap’s got to have a clear head when he argues the toss with the garage proprietor and of course……………drives home. Bugger.

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Be summer, be gone

The posts to this finest of fine blogs have reduced in frequency and content as of late dear bleaders.

Aside from a severe case of laziness this is all down to the summer. And by that, we don’t mean we’re laying on sun drenched beaches tipping wine darn our fwoats. Oh no indeed. The summer means it’s construction season in the North Sea and west of Shetland so all us MWS types (unemployable at anything else of course) are taking advantage and keeping busy. The last month was such an example. Offshore on a very new and beautiful  trenching vessel, first signs were that blogging from the beast would be a doddle and delight. No such luck though. Despite laundries the size of a Tesco Extra, an ROV hangar that would intimidate LHR Terminal 5 and acres of messrooms, the client’s office was smaller than yer average family hatchback and was deemed fit (they said) for six of us!! Tch tch. To make matters worse there was no internet connection available for us oiks. Blimey, that put a spanner in the works.

On a plus note however, it did break allatsea’s daft habit of passing the midnight hours by shopping on Amazon and EBay and coming home to a warehouseful of complete shite, newly delivered and unwanted. Every cloud has a silver lining then.

Similarly he’s offshore again in a few days. Hopefully an internet connection will be available but no breath being held. NO expectation….no disappointment…………as the adage goes.

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The September question, from the Economist.

https://subscriptions.economist.com/uk/diguaacc0714artpg/

 

 

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Polar bears having a wander on deck.

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You can say what you like about Margate but it’s a top place for commercial shagging. Officially!!

The following article from our beloved Thanet Gazette. No editorial tweaking from allatsea on this one, it’s as ‘ritt’. Journalistic gold.

Blog whore

A NEW guide to adult services in the South East has recognised the isle’s best sex workers.

McCoy’s Guide to Adult Services in South East England catalogues 21 massage parlours, 56 escort agencies, 94 dominatrixes and more than 600 working ladies across the region.

In total, seven Thanet sex workers were included in the guide, three from Margate, three from Ramsgate and one from Broadstairs.

The isle’s highest rated adult service provider was Margate dominatrix ‘Mistress Kent’, who the guidebook awarded a full five stars.

It explains: “Back in Margate after a brief period based in nearby Ramsgate, Mistress Kent continues to go from strength to strength.

“Operating from a well-equipped dungeon, she has a fascinating operation boasting everything from stocks, a St Andrews Cross, a whipping bench, a schoolroom and a horse and saddle.”

“From personal experience I can testify to her deceptively beguiling yet firm manner, with which she lulls her slaves into a false sense of security.”

Also featured were Ramsgate couple Terri and Jay, described as a: “man in his twenties and a woman in her thirties, both slim.”

The author of the guide writes: “Both Terri and Jay are happy to attend to men, women or couples and have been entertaining as a couple since late 2010.”

It adds: “It should be noted however that they only entertain together.”

Britain’s sex industry is believed to generate £1billion every year.

Prostitution is legal in the UK, but a number of related activities, including soliciting in a public place, kerb crawling and pimping are all banned.”

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Bundle, bundle, 5.49km long bundle

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The ‘trail’ tug. Small but gorgeous, 90 tonne bollard pull, Norwegian crew. About to transfer a 500 metre pennant from the work vessel at Scrabster.


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Anchor handling chaps, the vessel has twin Karm forks rather than a sharks jaw.

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The Tow Head. Two hundred tonnes of it, 5.5 km of bundle leading out over the fields and hills behind it.

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Goodness, there’s a lot of it.

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Checking the trail rigging.

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Lifting one to get the other one under it.

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Entering the waters of Sinclairs Bay, two 250 tonne bollard pull tugs heaving merrily away out of shot.

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A beautiful Caithness day, perfect launching conditions. The launch-ways will be removed once all the season’s launchings are complete.

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Nearby town Wick and the only accommodation available within 10 miles of the launch site.

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Nearby John o Groats. Not really worth the drive to see it.

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Scrabster harbour and the ferry to the nearby Orkney Islands.

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