There's a saying, the wording of which has completely escaped me, that basically implies that if you work hard on something you'll appreciate it more when its finished. I don't buy that at all.

In my opinion there's nothing more satisfying than putting absolutely no effort or thought into something and coming up trumps. Even more so when someone else has and its failed miserably. The same goes for how much someone spends on something in a way as well. I've mentioned this before, most obviously in reference to Patrol drivers. Meticulously detailed, cheque book engineering.

Boring. Then some blokes with an eBay Pajero built with a beer in one hand and a grinder in the other manage to show them up. Not exactly David and Goliath, more Daveo and Goliath. Dragging himself off his couch and spinning his Playstation controller over his head by the cable, the controller slips from his Cheezel stained fingers and cops Goliath in the goolies. Victory.

Of course, the Pajero failed as often as it worked. Generally with hilarious, yet somehow non-fatal, consequences. Arriving at a destination was generally more of a surprise than a relief. Usually there was a small crowd waiting to hear the story which they had waited for, in growing annoyance, for the past 2 (or more) hours.

It's easy to mistake attention for admiration, and I don't bother to distinguish. There is something amusing though, about lowering expectations to the point where others expect disaster and yet pulling it off like you had planned it that way. The Pajero lowered expectations to the point where people would be disappointed when it didn't fail. It disappointed a lot, but not nearly enough.

The issue was that problems of engineering were being replaced by problems caused wear and tear. Our old pal, Entropy, was at work. In fact in the last 3 months or so, he's been really busy. The body has rusted out significantly, the tail-shaft is gone, a front CV is shot to pieces and the starter motor is ruined. Opening the bonnet is a like stepping into a metallurgists nightmare. Almost every metal component is showing signs of corrosion. Even the engine block.

It's easy enough to ignore that though, just drive it until the car splits in half. Unfortunately, brake lines are also steel. Within the past week or two, the brakes have degraded to the point where you need to pump the brake pedal 3 times to stop the car. Even then, holding your foot on the brakes will push the pedal to the floor. It doesn't exactly inspire confidence.

I had planned on taking my boat out for its first test run on Saturday but after driving to the end of the street I decided against using the Pajero to tow it. In fact, I decided that it was time to scrap it. I kind of expected it to go with more drama than that. On its lid perhaps. A roadside fire ball. Maybe driven into the ocean. Or more likely, a combination of these.

So for my boat's maiden voyage with its new motor I hit up the old man for a tow. He was still absolutely convinced the motor was too big, too powerful and probably not pumping water. That was annoying, but at least he can reverse a trailer properly. It's a black art I haven't quite got the hang of yet.

The only boat ramp open to the public was the Manly Harbour boat ramp. I'd be launching my 3 figure boat (even I had doubts about its sea-worthiness) amongst boats with 4 extra zeroes on their price tags. My main concerns were that I had no idea what the rated engine capacity of the boat was, I had no idea how heavy this motor was or if the boat's transom could even support it and if the other two were ok, I had no idea what'd it'd do in the water or under power. That's the fun of buying eBay. Given the Pajero and recent Batracer performance, I wasn't holding my breathe.

I started the boat while still on the trailer to confirm that it was pumping water. It did, so one box ticked. Next was to actually see if she floated. Actually launching it off the boat was more difficult. The motor was down and it has no electric or hydraulic power tilt. You just have to man-handle it to lift it up. Considering it weighs probably twice my weight or more, its not that easy. Impossible from within the boat, at least. Rolling it off the back of the trailer, the boat lifted the nose quite high in the air. This worried me. Although it was simply because the boat was pivoting on the trailer, alarm bells were starting to ring. I was imagining that this would be how it would sit in the water.

Thankfully, once it was in the water it sat perfect. I was relieved, but probably more so surprised. My dad I think was feeling a bit disappointed, given how he had been telling me how wrong I was all this time. The real supportive dad, you know. He didn't say much now though, other than to agree it looked good in the water.

I hopped in and took it for a few laps of the harbour, but never got a real chance to open the taps because its all a 4 knot speed limit. Engaging forward or reverse gear is a bit harsh. I actually know nothing about outboards, or if they have a clutch or synchros so I'm not sure if this is normal or not. It sounds like Thompson at 1:12, except the noise is actually audible. The sort of whopping crunch that I hadn't heard since the last Pajero gear-shift.

At low speeds the boat feels a bit terrible in the water, but that's apparently pretty normal. I didn't take it out into the bay to open the taps, because I had no rescue boat and not much fuel on board. I'll probably take it out next weekend and really give it the berries. I'll probably mess myself in the process.

But, wow. It turned out pretty well considering my complete ignorance of boats, physics and maritime laws. I might even be getting good at this.