eastlondongp
New member
- Joined
- Jan 30, 2015
- Messages
- 8
- Points
- 1
I had never named a car before, it's just not something I had the inclination to do. I had named a bike once, but I was 9 and it was to annoy my brother.
As a GP owner for the past few years, I have been lurking on these forums for sometime. Only recently, when I came across my first mechanical problems did I start thinking about registering. Mainly to say thanks to some of the excellent contributors here, but I thought I may even be able to help out some of the newer owners myself.
For my first post then, a little story which I hope some of you will enjoy.
The story of how my little GP, came to be known as 'Osea'.
In the summer of 2013, my other half's brother got married. It was a typical Essex affair, with the couple hiring out an entire island as the venue. All guests were put up in various accommodations over night & for a selected few, we came the night before to help set things up.
Osea is an island in the river blackwater. Not far from Maldon. It is connected to the mainland via a causeway, which floods twice a day to form the river.
Arriving the afternoon of the Friday, we traversed the causeway with no issues at all. We even stopped to take some snaps! All very enjoyable. Spending the night on the island with the soon to be bridge and groom, we enjoyed watching the sun set with a few beers on a lovely summer evening, in this wonderful location.
The next morning was a very different scene. By the time I had got myself up and showered all hell was breaking loose in the grounds. Marque vans had arrived, mobile toilets, the celebratant, caterers and family were begging to make their way across the causeway.
One thing kept popping into my head, between moving tables and setting out chairs... will everyone make it across before the 11:12am cut off? Pah, its only 8:30am everyone has plenty of time.
At that moment the bride came dashing towards me, "I need someone to go to the shops, we don't have enough flowers!" I immediately jumped in the car and headed off to the mainland.
The house was about a 7 minute drive from the causeway, through narrow single file road. As I rounded a bend a tractor came from nowhere and my little GP ended up in a hedge. "Cheers mate" yelled the farmer as his 50inch wheels narrowly missed my wing mirror. "no bother" I muttered to myself as I continued towards the river.
The crossing itself is as you can imagine down a steep bank from the shore. You approach what is essentially the river bed at a 45 degree angle, so steep that I actually got out to check I wasn't going to ground the GP as I entered. It looked good so I continued.
Here's the thing, a causeway is not something you just drive across. Since it is basically an active river twice a day, the thing is usually quite wet, rocky and filled with massive pot holes which conveniently cover themselves in water so they look either shallow or more or less invisible in the morning sunshine. It is also not straight as you might imagine, it weaves across the river, following the highest points to ensure it stays useful for the maximum amount of time a day.
As a result of this, the crossing took me a little over 10 minutes. I had a few near misses with some pot holes but got to the mainland and off to the nearby shops without incident. On returning I noticed the water was much higher than before, it was getting on for around 10am at this point so I remember thinking this is fine, I have an hour!
Back at the house, flowers delivered I thought it was time to treat myself to a cold drink. Sitting in the sun lounger admiring the view, I felt I have really earned this. A short while passes and a rather red man appears, "excuse me sorry to trouble you but the lads setting up the marque need a lift back from the mainland". "sorry WHAT!" It's 10:30am...
Apparently the plan for the marque guys was to come early and setup the tents, drive the lorries off the island and park them in Maldon, then come back to finish setting up and get the water taxi back to the shore in the late afternoon. They had planned this in advance perfectly.... right up to the point where they didn't plan how they would get back on the island after dropping off the vans. And now here they are, looking at muggins.
I do the maths in my head, 10 minute drive to the causeway, 15 mins (being safe) to cross, drop off vans on the other side 5 minutes, 15 minutes to get back.. that takes us to 11:10... no crossing after 11:12... was it no starting to cross? Or no turning back? I couldn't remember what the brochure said, but what kind of wedding has no marques? Was the GP going to save the day, I couldn't let it be me that ruined the wedding... "Ok we go now" I said as I dashed towards my car.
A good friend of the family appears just as I'm getting in the car
"where are you going?" he questioned,
"no time to explain, I'm going to the mainland"
"but it's 10:33 and the.."
"No ****.. are you coming or what?"
"Of course I'm coming!"
With that my mate hops in the passenger seat and were off.
The Vans are already ahead of us, and by the time we reach the causeway, they are heading across. This fills me with confidence as I launch the little fiat down the slope once more.
"Mate you nearly grounded it there" piped up my mate
"Not even close.." I smiled wryly.
We make it across, but I can't help noticing the water level. The edge had an almost perfect water line, right up to the rim but not breaking over. Quite a picture if we had time to take it... we didn't!
I swing the car around in the holiday park which is on the other side. Yell to the van drivers who appear to be dithering and they hop in. We set off and one yells.
"Wait, I've forgotten my ipod"
Really? I stop he hops out and runs to his van. My car is a three door, so there is the whole in out, pull seat drama and then he is back and we are off AGAIN.
We get up the ramp towards the causeway and as the car peaks over the hill it comes into view. Like a concrete snake laying before us, with black shiny river right up to the rim... I can see the beautiful island, basking in the English summer sun a mile or so away and I say to myself, we are going to make it to that wedding.
One thing I had not considered in my maths was the speed at which vans could cross the thing. The little GP had managed to zip across compared to these guys, probably due to my mis-spent youth playing Sega Rally. But a glance at the clock confirmed my fears.
11:12am
Sod it, we have to do this. I floor it and off we go. We are hitting every bump that thing throws at us, but I don't care. I just want to be out of this thing as soon as possible. Around half way across you take a sharp left and then shortly after sharp right. As we round the second bend I bring the car to a complete halt.
"what the F%^" says my mate.
"what the F&%" says the van drivers.
"what the F%^" indeed.
Ahead of us there is no road. Ahead of us, there is only water.
"we have to go back" my mate continues.
"seriously Luke, we have to go back" he protests.
From my position in the driving seat however, I know that we cannot go back. You see what my good friend cannot see, is the view in the rear view mirror.
Behind us, there is no road. Behind us, there is only water.
I figured the road is down there somewhere, and it can't be all that deep. Consider this however, this is the reasoning of a man who is faced with two options. Either we make it and the car is saved, or all of us are swimming to the shore while I watch my lovely little GP float down river and out to sea. With this in mind, I thought I need to keep the revs up. If I can keep the revs up I have less chance of stalling and getting water in the exhaust, which can't be all that good and will probably stop me from starting it up again.
Revs high, I release the clutch and the little punto launches forward into the water. We are moving pretty quick and water is spraying right up both sides, so much so to obscure the view. My mate is making all sorts of noises, but I have no idea what he is saying. All I can hear is the sound of the engine desperately trying to stay alive in... and then it happens, we stall.
Every light comes on, check engine, check power steering, check this, check that... at that point I notice something rather odd. The steering is light and we are moving, but the engine is stalled. We are moving sideways. We are floating...
My mate breaks the silence..
"I've got new trainers on!"
"Are you F^%$ing kidding me? my car is in a bloody river right now"
"I can't swim" comes a voice from behind.
I look at the marque driver in the rear view mirror and the colour has completely drained from his face. I see myself and I'm not looking much more peaky.
In that moment, silence fell on the car. I sat there and thought, now we are totally F^&%d.
I turned the ignition off and took a deep breath. Rolled the key around and held down the gas.
It started! I put it in 1st and floored it. We are revving, wheels are turning but nothing is happening. We are still floating sideways. I start turning the wheel left and right, like a mad man in blind panic, then from nowhere as if the hand of Giovanni Agnelli had reached down and pushed us himself, the front wheels gripped, something, anything, stones, mermaids?, water and mud spun up my drivers window and the car leaped forward, like those whales do at seaworld. I look forward for the first time in what feels like ages, the beach is not far away, but the road is totally flooded. I just drive, and drive and drive and pray...
Somehow we make it, we pull up on bank on the island and stop. I get out to check the car, but actually I get out to nearly throw up. I look back and the river is flowing fully behind us, there is no causeway and the River Blackwater has reclaimed it for another day, and nearly us too.
I get back in the car and we head off in silence towards the manor house, to a perfect wedding with our friends and family. The only words spoken on the ten minute drive, come from one of the guys in the back.
"You're a hero" he said, with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"No mate, the car is"
[CANT POST THE PICTURES YET, I'M TOO NEW!]
I'm Luke, GP 'semi aquatic' Dynamic Sport 1.4 owner in East London. Pleased to meet you all!
As a GP owner for the past few years, I have been lurking on these forums for sometime. Only recently, when I came across my first mechanical problems did I start thinking about registering. Mainly to say thanks to some of the excellent contributors here, but I thought I may even be able to help out some of the newer owners myself.
For my first post then, a little story which I hope some of you will enjoy.
The story of how my little GP, came to be known as 'Osea'.
In the summer of 2013, my other half's brother got married. It was a typical Essex affair, with the couple hiring out an entire island as the venue. All guests were put up in various accommodations over night & for a selected few, we came the night before to help set things up.
Osea is an island in the river blackwater. Not far from Maldon. It is connected to the mainland via a causeway, which floods twice a day to form the river.
Arriving the afternoon of the Friday, we traversed the causeway with no issues at all. We even stopped to take some snaps! All very enjoyable. Spending the night on the island with the soon to be bridge and groom, we enjoyed watching the sun set with a few beers on a lovely summer evening, in this wonderful location.
The next morning was a very different scene. By the time I had got myself up and showered all hell was breaking loose in the grounds. Marque vans had arrived, mobile toilets, the celebratant, caterers and family were begging to make their way across the causeway.
One thing kept popping into my head, between moving tables and setting out chairs... will everyone make it across before the 11:12am cut off? Pah, its only 8:30am everyone has plenty of time.
At that moment the bride came dashing towards me, "I need someone to go to the shops, we don't have enough flowers!" I immediately jumped in the car and headed off to the mainland.
The house was about a 7 minute drive from the causeway, through narrow single file road. As I rounded a bend a tractor came from nowhere and my little GP ended up in a hedge. "Cheers mate" yelled the farmer as his 50inch wheels narrowly missed my wing mirror. "no bother" I muttered to myself as I continued towards the river.
The crossing itself is as you can imagine down a steep bank from the shore. You approach what is essentially the river bed at a 45 degree angle, so steep that I actually got out to check I wasn't going to ground the GP as I entered. It looked good so I continued.
Here's the thing, a causeway is not something you just drive across. Since it is basically an active river twice a day, the thing is usually quite wet, rocky and filled with massive pot holes which conveniently cover themselves in water so they look either shallow or more or less invisible in the morning sunshine. It is also not straight as you might imagine, it weaves across the river, following the highest points to ensure it stays useful for the maximum amount of time a day.
As a result of this, the crossing took me a little over 10 minutes. I had a few near misses with some pot holes but got to the mainland and off to the nearby shops without incident. On returning I noticed the water was much higher than before, it was getting on for around 10am at this point so I remember thinking this is fine, I have an hour!
Back at the house, flowers delivered I thought it was time to treat myself to a cold drink. Sitting in the sun lounger admiring the view, I felt I have really earned this. A short while passes and a rather red man appears, "excuse me sorry to trouble you but the lads setting up the marque need a lift back from the mainland". "sorry WHAT!" It's 10:30am...
Apparently the plan for the marque guys was to come early and setup the tents, drive the lorries off the island and park them in Maldon, then come back to finish setting up and get the water taxi back to the shore in the late afternoon. They had planned this in advance perfectly.... right up to the point where they didn't plan how they would get back on the island after dropping off the vans. And now here they are, looking at muggins.
I do the maths in my head, 10 minute drive to the causeway, 15 mins (being safe) to cross, drop off vans on the other side 5 minutes, 15 minutes to get back.. that takes us to 11:10... no crossing after 11:12... was it no starting to cross? Or no turning back? I couldn't remember what the brochure said, but what kind of wedding has no marques? Was the GP going to save the day, I couldn't let it be me that ruined the wedding... "Ok we go now" I said as I dashed towards my car.
A good friend of the family appears just as I'm getting in the car
"where are you going?" he questioned,
"no time to explain, I'm going to the mainland"
"but it's 10:33 and the.."
"No ****.. are you coming or what?"
"Of course I'm coming!"
With that my mate hops in the passenger seat and were off.
The Vans are already ahead of us, and by the time we reach the causeway, they are heading across. This fills me with confidence as I launch the little fiat down the slope once more.
"Mate you nearly grounded it there" piped up my mate
"Not even close.." I smiled wryly.
We make it across, but I can't help noticing the water level. The edge had an almost perfect water line, right up to the rim but not breaking over. Quite a picture if we had time to take it... we didn't!
I swing the car around in the holiday park which is on the other side. Yell to the van drivers who appear to be dithering and they hop in. We set off and one yells.
"Wait, I've forgotten my ipod"
Really? I stop he hops out and runs to his van. My car is a three door, so there is the whole in out, pull seat drama and then he is back and we are off AGAIN.
We get up the ramp towards the causeway and as the car peaks over the hill it comes into view. Like a concrete snake laying before us, with black shiny river right up to the rim... I can see the beautiful island, basking in the English summer sun a mile or so away and I say to myself, we are going to make it to that wedding.
One thing I had not considered in my maths was the speed at which vans could cross the thing. The little GP had managed to zip across compared to these guys, probably due to my mis-spent youth playing Sega Rally. But a glance at the clock confirmed my fears.
11:12am
Sod it, we have to do this. I floor it and off we go. We are hitting every bump that thing throws at us, but I don't care. I just want to be out of this thing as soon as possible. Around half way across you take a sharp left and then shortly after sharp right. As we round the second bend I bring the car to a complete halt.
"what the F%^" says my mate.
"what the F&%" says the van drivers.
"what the F%^" indeed.
Ahead of us there is no road. Ahead of us, there is only water.
"we have to go back" my mate continues.
"seriously Luke, we have to go back" he protests.
From my position in the driving seat however, I know that we cannot go back. You see what my good friend cannot see, is the view in the rear view mirror.
Behind us, there is no road. Behind us, there is only water.
I figured the road is down there somewhere, and it can't be all that deep. Consider this however, this is the reasoning of a man who is faced with two options. Either we make it and the car is saved, or all of us are swimming to the shore while I watch my lovely little GP float down river and out to sea. With this in mind, I thought I need to keep the revs up. If I can keep the revs up I have less chance of stalling and getting water in the exhaust, which can't be all that good and will probably stop me from starting it up again.
Revs high, I release the clutch and the little punto launches forward into the water. We are moving pretty quick and water is spraying right up both sides, so much so to obscure the view. My mate is making all sorts of noises, but I have no idea what he is saying. All I can hear is the sound of the engine desperately trying to stay alive in... and then it happens, we stall.
Every light comes on, check engine, check power steering, check this, check that... at that point I notice something rather odd. The steering is light and we are moving, but the engine is stalled. We are moving sideways. We are floating...
My mate breaks the silence..
"I've got new trainers on!"
"Are you F^%$ing kidding me? my car is in a bloody river right now"
"I can't swim" comes a voice from behind.
I look at the marque driver in the rear view mirror and the colour has completely drained from his face. I see myself and I'm not looking much more peaky.
In that moment, silence fell on the car. I sat there and thought, now we are totally F^&%d.
I turned the ignition off and took a deep breath. Rolled the key around and held down the gas.
It started! I put it in 1st and floored it. We are revving, wheels are turning but nothing is happening. We are still floating sideways. I start turning the wheel left and right, like a mad man in blind panic, then from nowhere as if the hand of Giovanni Agnelli had reached down and pushed us himself, the front wheels gripped, something, anything, stones, mermaids?, water and mud spun up my drivers window and the car leaped forward, like those whales do at seaworld. I look forward for the first time in what feels like ages, the beach is not far away, but the road is totally flooded. I just drive, and drive and drive and pray...
Somehow we make it, we pull up on bank on the island and stop. I get out to check the car, but actually I get out to nearly throw up. I look back and the river is flowing fully behind us, there is no causeway and the River Blackwater has reclaimed it for another day, and nearly us too.
I get back in the car and we head off in silence towards the manor house, to a perfect wedding with our friends and family. The only words spoken on the ten minute drive, come from one of the guys in the back.
"You're a hero" he said, with a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"No mate, the car is"
[CANT POST THE PICTURES YET, I'M TOO NEW!]
I'm Luke, GP 'semi aquatic' Dynamic Sport 1.4 owner in East London. Pleased to meet you all!
