Two o’clock this morning some ancient plastic cruiser hammered up to Little Venice, not a light to be seen!
It was ten to three in the morning when I first heard this arse.
He moored in front of me and left his engine running while he hammered in three pins, twelve times! When he finished that he stood between his boat and mine talking like it was the middle of the day. Twenty to four he finally shut up. At ten to four along came this pratt.
In all fairness he did turn off his engine as soon as he was alongside, but bloody hell it took him ages to do that. Forward, reverse, forward, reverse. Then for some reason he took six attempts to get his three pins in. Obviously a pair of dodgers trying to avoid getting a ticket.
This morning as I left at nine twenty I made sure they knew I was leaving. They now know what my horn sounds like. I would be surprised if they didn’t wake up. What a pair of totally inconsiderate bastards. They are certainly not boaters.