The rigmarole of stretching a cover over a dinghy while it is bobbing about in choppy water, prior to hoisting it on davits, can become a very damp business if you’re not careful. Leaning right over either end, trying to stretch a cover over the wet bow and stern pods can quite easily result in a head-first dip in the drink.
Britannia’s dinghy is an old model C10X Caribe RIB, ten feet long, so at least it has a solid floor to scramble about in. Soft bottoms are not as stable, so the chance of slipping overboard is greater.
After disembarking any passengers at Britannia’s side ladder, I would then hand walk myself in the dinghy to the stern, where someone on deck would tie the dinghy’s painter to the rail. The outboard motor could then be lifted off the dinghy transom using our crane hoist, and locked on it’s mount on the stern rail. I should add that the height to the aft deck on Britannia is comparatively high at six feet.
The dingy cover would then be dropped down to me—usually in a big pile—whereupon the shenanigans would begin, gleefully anticipated by anybody standing on the stern with a camera.
First I had to find the rear of the cover, then, leaning perilously over the dinghy stern, drape it over the end of each pod. This was made more difficult when I occasionally decided to leave the outboard on the dinghy, since the cover was then a tight stretch over the outboard casing. Still, it was a comparatively easy operation compared to the bow, because the cover was loose as I leaned over the stern. But even then, just one rogue wake from a passing motor boat—it’s always a passing motor boat isn’t it? and I had to hold on for dear-life to prevent myself slipping head-first over the stern. I know this can happen from experience—twice. Raucous laughter from onlookers didn’t help either, who couldn’t even think to throw me a line as I swam to the side boarding ladder!
With the back of the cover hooked under the stern pods, the next operation was to hand-paddle the dinghy to a position where I could grab the hoist line hanging from the davit, then pass it though the rear grommet hole in the cover and snap its carbine hook to the ring in the wire strop, bolted to the transom. I would then maneuver the cover to the bow, always keeping tension on it to prevent it washing off the stern pods—or I would have to start all over again. The cover then had to be stretched over the bow by leaning right over to hook it as far underneath as possible. The problem with that was I was always obstructing the cover with my own body. This is another prime opportunity to get a soaking.
With the cover hooked over both ends I would again hand paddle to where I could grab the bow hoisting line hanging from the davit, pass it through the front grommet hole in the cover and hook it to its strop. Even with the dinghy now secure I could only straighten the cover on the outward side, because I had to squeeze out the other side to climb up the stern boarding ladder.
At least it was then an effortless job to hoist the dinghy to the top of the davits using my home-made electric winch, which pulled the dink’ up in about twenty seconds—including the outboard if I had left it attached. Tidying up the cover was then just a matter of pulling it straight and securing the dinghy back to the davits
Every time I performed this balancing act, and especially after falling in——I swore there had to be a better way…
I considered cutting the cover in half to make two separate bow and stern sections, then zipping them together when both ends were in position. I’m sure this would work for others, but trying to attach two halves of a zip is difficult enough on land for my old hands, never mind in a lurching dinghy with wet fingers. I would have needed to stretch both halves together while balancing in the center, trying to zip the sections together—and I only have two hands. Still, I felt I was possibly on the right track, so I progressed to a better solution.