Running out of petrol.

I mentioned it in my last "trip" post, but only briefly. The whole story is a bit more interesting!

Since I'd fixed the engine in Scarborough (or thought I had....) I'd still had the occasional misfire, it would run rough for a couple of seconds before picking up again. This happened every half an hour or so. Looking back, it's something that has happened since I got the engine.
So, when it coughed and spluttered going up the Tyne I though at first that it was the same old thing. That was until it stopped!
I was near some moored fishing boats, some looked derelict, others were in better shape, not that it mattered much. I pushed the tiller over and hoped to grab hold of one...
The tide was ebbing, so I didn't quite make it. I was a few feet short of even attempting to grab anything, so I scrambled to the bow and dropped the anchor before I ended up back out at sea (or bouncing off a ferry!).
The anchor held and I tried starting the engine. It fired up, but not for long. This was when petrol crossed my mind...
After checking the tank I realised I wasn't going anywhere tonight.
I made a plan, which is an unusual thing for me to do. I'd start the engine, hoping for enough power to get me to the fishing boat   which was about 10 metres ahead of me and a couple of metres nearer the riverbank, get a line onto it before the tide took me back, then relax.
I tied  a line onto my boat ready for use, fired up the engine (after pumping the priming bulb for a minute or so) and aimed it at the fishing boat!
As expected, the engine died before I got there, but there was enough momentum to carry me up to a tyre hanging off the side of the fishing boat. If I could just get a line through it...
Leaning out of the cockpit, left leg through the companionway into the cabin, I just managed to grab the tyre by my fingertips as my boat came to a halt. Then the tide took over!
As the pressure of the river Tyne pushed the boat back my arms stretched, my leg stretched from the cabin and I realised I was onto a loser. I let go, the boat settled back onto the anchor.
Plan B was the same as Plan A, I just hoped that I could get a bit closer this time.
Pumped the priming bulb again, fired up the engine again, this time I opened the throttle wide and hoped for the best.
This time I managed to get a line through the tyre!
I tied it off and slumped into the cockpit, knackered.
After 10 mins rest I readied a couple more lines and climbed onto the fishing boat. Stepping over holes in the deck, I pulled Yuan Hang up level with it and tied up for the night.
I sat back in the cockpit for another rest...

It was about 11pm, so the chances of getting any petrol tonight were slim, but I thought I might as well go and explore a bit, at least find out where I was.
I climbed over the fishing boat (actually, the derelict ex-fishing boat) and onto some dodgy floating pontoons made from sleepers and plywood, then up a ladder into what turned out to be a scrapyard, locked. I thought the best plan would be to get some sleep, then surprise the scrapyard workers in the morning!

After an uncomfortable night, half-expecting the derelict I was moored to was going to sink and take me with it, I did the assault-course trip back up to the scrapyard. There was a guy working on a forklift truck who, as I explained I'd run out of petrol in a boat, didn't bat an eyelid.
He gave me directions to the, luckily nearby, petrol station, and I went for essential supplies.

Once the tank was topped up, the engine started easily and I made my way up to St. Peters Marina.
I couldn't have been made more welcome, tied up in the visitor's berth, my battery on charge in the marina offices, I had a shower before being picked up by Ali and her sister for a weekend on dry land.