Originally Posted by The Garfish
dats intrestin. verry intrestin. ow didd itt gett stukk inn de sannd inn de furst plaice dats wot i wonts too noe. spil de beens yew owld bint
Here's the true story. (A parable of sorts).
One day St. Peter of the Holy Smoke Ribbing Fraternity sallied forth towards Priory Bay with many disciples in tow.
As he sat on the beach teaching the flock about the merits of console changing, birds nest wiring, using a sweeping brush handle as a throttle and a flour bin for a bench seat (glassed in who's gonna know?), it came to his attention that people might be getting hungry. So he made one tin of sardines and a left-over bun go amongst the multitude 'till all had enough ('I've had enough of this' they were heard to say). He then changed some 2 stroke oil into wine which went down a treat.
All went back to their boats and he bid them be on their way. He himself sorted out a few things first for lo! he walked across the water, restarted someone's engine and fixed a burning bush before returning to the beach and his own boat.
'Ah feck it' quoth he. ''Tis beached. What time is the tide back in again?' At this he tore his hair out in frustration.
As the hours went by, in desperation a few of his followers tried to move the enormous craft to no avail. St. Peter remembered that now his hair was short, he had no special powers.
So wait they did.
The moral of the parable being :
Watch the tides in Priory Bay