Book 2, Chapter 22

Wales isn't known for the huge numbers of its butterflies but enormous numbers must have been flapping around Cardiff to explain the whirlwind of media forces that concentrated on Dumblebit's launching on Wednesday, April 11th 2001 at 12:15.

Disastrous ship and boat launches have been a popular source of humour since the dawn of film but they aren't that common that the simple popping of a yacht into the water with a crane would attract the media vultures. Litara was expected to be there with her cameraman for the project of course and it was the tiny beats of her butterfly wings that gave the final impetus that turned a local event into national news.

It started with the boat name as we'd being calling her Dumblebit, unable to come up with a proper name, so Litara announced that the various documentary makers involved felt that to give the project added unity the best name would be 'The Transit of Venus' which linked Cook's voyage and my transition/transportation.

I was ready to go along with the inevitable when Bill, whose boat it was said "No. You can't give a boat a name beginning with 'The'. Around the world vessels are named by a prefix such as HMS, SS or USS and then a name, so although the public might talk of The Ark Royal she is properly named as HMS Ark Royal. The best I can offer you is SV (for Sailing Vessel) 'Transit of Venus'."

Although the name sounded slightly 'off' it wasn't obvious why and nobody objected. "T of V' it is then," concluded Ian anxious to get on with proper work. To formalise the moment he painted 'Transit of Venus' onto the reverse side of a piece of wood, on which he had previously painted in jest 'Dumblebit', and then hung the new nameplate from the bow. The decision had been made but history has inertia so we continued to say Dumblebit secure in the knowledge we would call her Transit of Venus when the time became appropriate.

With a precise launch time announced because of the hire crane's schedule, my friends showed the sort of low moral fibre that allowed them to skive off from work to come and cheer the moment - as it seemed did half of Cardiff through family and work connections. None of these people I'm sure had phoned the local newspapers, radio stations or television companies but when people chat there are two alternatives: either the details are soon forgotten or new information starts being linked to other remembered details. My life it became apparent had been drifting across some sort of vague line where it was uncertain if I was an anonymous private individual or a local public figure and as this is the gossip that the local media feed on they joined the throng of spectators at the launch.

Sunshine with showers was the typical April weather forecast for the day. The boat's cradle had been winched across the yard to the water's edge where the crane was ready to lift her into the water between 2 jetties steadied by lines, 2 from the bows and 2 from the stern quarters, held by Dad, Jack, Ian and Evan. Grandma Tina, Bill, Mum and Latira were standing on the back of Bill's pickup truck ready to swing the champagne and name the boat when a voice clearly asked "This is the TV boat isn't it?"

Probably the question was innocently asked to check that it was the boat to be used in the making of a TV/television programme rather than the boat to be sailed by the local TV/transvestite but I think Litara recognised in that moment 'Transit of Venus' as a regularly used name just had too many associations other than Cook and astronomy…

"Dumblebit! Please call her Dumblebit!" shouted Litara over the rising roar of the crane's engine's as it took the load.

Age hadn't slowed Bill and Grandma's wits one iota and with a swift motion Bill span the nameplate to show Dumblebit and swinging the champagne bottle Grandma shouted at the top of her not inconsiderable lungs just as the crane's diesel died down

"I name this ship Dumblebit!"

The cameras were rolling, and many photographers snapping as one unfortunate photographer, ignoring safety instructions, moved between Ian and the water's edge to get a better angle. A gust of wind began to spin Dumblebit so Ian stepped back with his port bowline better to brace himself against the strain knocking the errant photographer in the water.

Maybe the photographer's scream distracted Ian because in stumbling he was jerked off his feet to hang helpless from the bows leaving Jack on the starboard quarter line, feet scrabbling and slipping on gravel, as the only force remaining to stop the accelerating spin. The spin was becoming a dangerous swing as I grabbed the loose line from behind Jack and quickly threw a braking turn of rope around a bollard but not so quickly that the photographers failed to catch the image of Jack and Ian hanging from their prospective ropes above the water, the crane teetering on two legs looking ready to fall, a drenched photographer regaining the security of the jetty and the nameplate brightly proclaiming the name Dumblebit.

That was the image the Sunday papers eventually ran, with various headlines playing on 'I name this ship Dumblebit' and 'Does My Bum Look Big In This'. The BBC as early as that evening ran with the line that without my quick thinking to stop the swing, Dumblebit, the crane and possibly several lives would have been lost while the commercial station promoted the line that the incident arose from ignoring the superstition that it is unlucky to change the name of a vessel. During that actual lunchtime though the incident was over so quickly that we just breathed a sigh of relief no harm was done, motored Dumblebit round to the marina and enjoyed the hampers of goodies that Grandma, Mum and Bill had laid on to feed the 5,000.