TRUE GRIT

Well, it is another dark and stormy day. The wind is blowing, rain lashing down and there is constant thunder and lightening. So not a day for outside work. Inside, Dave is fiddling about under the sink and up and down to the tool room, so best thing for me is tto hunker down in my corner and do a bit more blogging in between spanner handing and torch finding. The sink pump died, so the sink is being emptied at present into a bucket. The new pump is a bit different to the old one so there is a lot of umming and aaahing as to where it is going to go. It is a better pump in my eyes as it does not need a filter – and cleaning the sink filter is one of the ookiest jobs I have. No filter, big joy!.

BOTTOM FACTS

When we were in Tobermory getting things ready to set out we investigated long term anti-fouling for the bottom of the boat. We were convinced by the blurb for the coppercoat antifouling, which promised years and years of no need for the annual anti-fouling saga. We spent months in the boatshed at Corpach getting the hull ready as the preparation was quite arduous as there was no grit blasting permitted there, and all the old anti-fouling had to be taken off by paint stripper. It was a foul, messy, and exhausting business. We then applied the coppercoat as per instructions and felt quite pleased with ourselves.
Until last year when we were lifted here in November and found large patches had separated from the hull. Discussions with the firm gave us what to do, except the importing of the stuff from the UK is prohibitively expensive as it is classed as dangerous cargo. We were able to source what we needed locally from someone who had just done his boat and had some over.
Imagine our dismay on this lift when we find things are still pretty bad in places and also that we had a bad attack of coral worm. This was after we had had an interim underwater scrape in Gozo in the summer when we had collected so much weed we could not go over 3-4 knts. So it has now become a real problem. The cost of the stuff and the additional cost of the carriage is making it a nightmare to consider, and it is not performing here in the Med at all. So it is back to basics – it all has to come off and start over with the conventional. We have been inspecting all the boats as they are lifted out and trundled past us in the travel hoist – they are all better on the conventional than we were on the expensive stuff.
To clean the hull means to get it back to the bare metal, and this means grit blasting. We had it gritted 16 years ago, so all the accumulated coatings were there to come off. Once it is blasted it has to be painted with at least one coat of primer immediately, like in minutes, before the rust starts. So the day came. Now in the UK at the last gritting, the chap turned up with a domestic pressure washer and a bag of sand and set to work. Which was what I was expecting.
Norman, the yard foreman comes by and tells us we need to cover the boat in plastic before the gritting. ‘Really?’ I ask
‘Yes, really. We do not want it getting on the boats beside you.’
That seems reasonable, so after getting instructions on what to do’ we set to work.
The task involved dropping sheets of plastic from the guard rails to the ground and taping them up. Sounds simple, but that is a lot of plastic. Now, my cost conscious husband spies some plastic on the ground near us where a boat has just left – aha, free plastic. So off he goes and drags it back to us. It does fit, but we soon find it has been used on a boat which was having the antifouling sanded as is covered in blue powder that gets everywhere. We pull it up over the guard rails, and as it can’t be taped to anything, bring up long logs and hold down the edges on the deck. Then more logs for the bottom. Meanwhile, the wind is getting up and the whole contraption starts billowing in the breeze, so the bottom logs have to be re-enforced with large slabs of rock fetched on the sack trolley. The joins can’t be taped as the powdery surface won’t stick, so it has to be hosed down. Eventually I walk around the whole thing with a roll of tape to try and stop the billowing out, cable ties are used up on the guard rails to re-enforce the logs. This has taken most of the day, and we are now enclosed in plastic like an entry in the Turner prize art competition. And we are very blue, and very tired. All night we have flap, flappity flap but are pleasantly surprised to see it is still in place the next day. I am still bemused that we need all this preparation.






7.30 in the morning and there is the loud noise of vehicles approaching the boat. Looking out we see a pick-up truck with a crane towing one of those large compressors you see in roadworks places. Next thing is the truck is unloaded – long, thick hoses are laid out, a large hopper and sieve appear, and a very large cement bag of very black grit is lifted off the truck by the crane. The two lads with the truck start joining everything up, and eventually the boss returns with another huge bag of very black grit. The set-up is inspected and things are about to start.
‘You won’t want to stay here’ says the boss man
‘Oh?’ says I
‘Very noisy and dusty’ says he
‘OK’ says I, thinking it cannot be as bad as the grinder and sanding machines. Wrong.








From behind the truck appears a figure more akin to a deep sea diver, complete with helmet. He has thick padded overalls and top, gloves and a helmet thing with a glass face plate and is toting his air hose behind him. This is not going to be a bag of sand job. It has been decided the best for us will be a dry grit blast and off they go. Deep sea diver disappears under the plastic, the compressor winds up and then there is the most ear spitting din I have ever heard as the grit start to blast out of the hose. We run half way up the boat yard before we can hear each other, the gate guard shuts his door but still can’t hear his TV, and we realize why they wear ear plugs under their ear defenders.
The we notice the fine dust escaping from the plastic, and when the first hopper of grit is finished we go in and have a look. The gritted surface is amazing, the ground is covered in black grit and I am glad we elected to have them clear up. The plan is half the boat done the first day, half the second, so we can get the paint on in time. We have seconded help from a chap here we have made friends with, and once the gritters pack up for the day, they get straight to work. I go up on board to make a cuppa and get the shock of my life.
The whole of the deck and the cockpit, everything, is covered in an inch of black grit. Everywhere is black. No one mentioned this part of it and I must say I was at a loss for some time as to what to do. It was too much to sweep up, and too much for my little car vacuum. Best plan was to clear an entrance into the cabin and not do anything till it was all over. At least I had shut the hatches or we would have had a cabin full of grit instead of just being dusty. The cockpit was worst as we had had to have some blasting done in the back locker where the rudder had come out. Just imagine everything covered in snow – except it is black snow. Must remember that the finish it perfection itself so it must be worth it. Just.
Next day 6.30am we are greeted by the roar of the gritter again – it is better in the boat than outside – and off we go again for the second half of the drama. At last it is over and the clear up begins. A broom starts sweeping off over the side, and then we are lent the air hose to get the worst of it off the fore deck and all the stuff we had stored there. I managed to look pathetic enough in front of the management staff that I was leant the industrial vacuum cleaner from the liferaft servicing people over the weekend, without which I could not have managed. Needless to say we also had to airblast the boats beside us too, as they also had collected some of the dust. But at the end of it all there was a lovely bottom, complete with the strip around the waterline for me to sand off.
So we are in the process of painting and preparing the hull. We scrounged a gantry type thing for me to sit on and sand the bits left over, and Dave has been painting and filling for the last week – in all there will be 15 coats of various paints on it. It had better work. We have had some super heavy rain since, all of which helps clean things up, but I fear the grit will be with us for some time to come.
Now all we have to do is decide what colour the anti-fouling is going to be. Not a lot of choice, but it still takes days of decision making!

ON THE HARD

LIFE ON THE HARD

Well now, it is a not so good day and Dave has all the tools I need for my jobs, so it is a good excuse to get down to a bit of blog writing. As you know, we are in the boatyard, still, as it always takes longer to do things than planned. I have to let you kniw that having the boat lifted is very stressful. First you have to get into the small dock and have the travel hoist come along with its straps to go under the hull and make sure they are in the right place, then it it is off the boat and watch it slowly rise up out of the water. The whole thing trundles along up to the parking place with us walking behind, looking forlornly up at our house and home swaying in the breeze. Then the props are put in and chocked up, the straps taken off and the boat let settle onto the sticks. Travel hoist away, we gaze at the undersides and see the coral worm infestation and the stuff still wound around the propeller. Ages later the man comes with the pressure washer, Dave sets to with a scraper and we gaze on the sorry sight of the undersides. The all singing anti-fouling is not all singing after all. Sigh. Big decisions to be made, but that’s for later.





Spirit on the hard, with the mast out lying beside her.






Glossary:

Mouse: string tied to a rope or cable that is being removed to be replaced. The cable is pulled out, the string follows and leaves and end to tie the new one onto to thread it down the same track. If the string comes off the cable half way along it is a nightmare as it is impossible to thread a new mouse. High stress situation!
Bilge: These are the spaces under the cabin floor wher the engine sits, pipes and wires run and wher we stow things. They are the real bottom of the boat and as it is a steel boat we have to watch for rusty bits.
Now where are we up to.

I think we are progressing, the new autopilot is almost in, the hull is almost half done, and the repaired guard rails are half done as are the bilges inside the boat. So I am hoping the second half of the half done goes a tad faster than the first half! The good news is that the mast work is done. We have changed the lights to LED ones as the old ones were so old they hardly glowed through the crazed glass and chomped power. So the mast has been re-wired, loved and cherished, inspected and cleaned and a problem or two sorted. And we did not loose a mouse!! Quite a feat when pulling over 60 feet of cable through a tight channel several times over.
The mast was taken out when we were up on the hard. A ginormous crane was brought in as the mast is 60 feet high and has to be lifted out of the boat, up in the air and over the guard rails before being lowered onto trestles. A game soul went up the mast to put on the strop from the crane, the last of the supports was undone and away it went. This sounds easy, but it took a full days preparation to get it eready so we did not hold folk up. So there is was dangling in the breeze and going down onto the trestles. Then a moment of consternation – it looked as though there was not enough room for it, and the crane could not move backwards. Much pacing out and then a holding of breath as it just cleared the wall. The photo does not show the aerials on the end of the mast very well and that there is just enough room to squeeze around the top end.















2 views if the mast. The blue and white boat is not us - it is behind us.



So here we are up on the props. It was a bit disconcerting at night at first, especially in the gales we had last week, as the boat was shaking a bit. But we have not fallen down, and gradually we are not noticing the movement as much. It is so much better being on board than going off to a flat in the evening as we did last time. We have fixed up the drainage into jerry cans, so life goes on much as normal. However, there are two drawbacks– the ladder and the loo.

There are times when one has to get off the boat, and the only way is by the ladder. So after climbing up the companionway steps into the cockpit there is a moment of meditation to think of all the things needed before going down – finding out the essential item is upstairs means another trip up and down. The old knees are really taking a hammering, even Dave is finding aches where there once were none.


















Then there is the loo. Again we are parked just about as far away as you can be, so calls of nature are a camel hike there and back, and another camel hike for the shower. Thankfully our disinfectant system for liquid waste copes with most of nature’s needs, a trip out on a dark and stormy night is not to be undertaken except in extremis!

In the picture the loo is the small white building in the far distance in the middle of the picture.

















Story
The intrepid duo have just finished a lovely meal created by Dave, a bit later than usual as work got in the way. Jen gets up to do the washing up.
‘Daaaaavvveeee?’
‘Yes, jen’
‘We have run out of water’
‘Run out of water? Now?’
‘’Fraid so’
Big sigh as this means down the ladder, get the hose from the water supply, drag it back and up onto the boat, then wait ages for the tanks to fill. Then down again to turn it all off. But washing up needs doing, bodies need washing, and the bottle supply is rather precious. So the job is done.
Jen returns to the galley to do the washing up. Fills the kettle for the hot water for the sink.
‘Dave’
‘Yes Jen’
‘We are out of gas.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yup. What bottle is next?’
Big groan. ’I can’t remember. I’ll go’
So Dave gets up and into the cockpit to try to work out where he is in his new idea of gas rotation. At least it is not a ladder job.
At last, gas, water and hot water. The washing up done, the duo decide it is time for early bed as the fellow with the grinder may be arriving at 7.30am – so an early start.

BACK AT MALTA

I am in deep trouble from all quarters – I have been remiss in posting blogs! So, before any more folk berate me for being an idle hussy, I am taking advantage of a very windy and rainy spell to down tools and get some words written. I do apologise for not writing, all excuses are no reasons in the end I suppose. But my excuses are good ones – to me at least. The main reason was I was too hot. Yes, I know it is hard for those of our friends in Scotland to understand, but it is true. We happened to be in Sardinia and the Aeolian Islands just north of Sicily for the 3 hottest months of the hottest and driest spell in any summer ever recorded. It was merciless – day after day over 40deg C, not a cloud in the sky. It was far too hot to go below, even though we had the whole boat covered in sunshades, and all you could do in the afternoons was sit in the cockpit and quietly melt into the woodwork. (And sew patchwork squares if the needle was not too big and heavy!) A little relief came at night when the temperature dropped to about 36 – 38, and we could have the fans on. Sleep was not the easiest as at times it was also quite humid. And the brain fried and went into a complete torpor. We did move the boat from place to place, setting out before the sun got up and hoping to be able to get it anchored and settled before the heat was too much. As we were restricted to day trips anyway due to failure of the self-steering mechanism (more later) this was not a problem, especially in the islands, and we did enjoy our time there. You will be given details soon.
As there has been such a time since the last blog update, it will be a backwards blog again, as I have to tell you all where we are now and then I can go back and fill you in with all the summer doings. We are back in Malta, with the boat up on sticks in the boat yard to get some work done. We called in at Gozo for a week or two ion the way back from Sicily and it was so great to meet old friends again. And in the boat yard we are in the spot next to the one we occupied when we were here last year – the furthest you can just about get from the loo and showers. This time we are living on board instead of going to a hotel and it is much better. We have a drainage system of a couple of jerry cans and all the comforts of home at the top of the ginormous ladder. This ladder we come to love but groan in despair when the thing you want is at the other end of it.
On the way from Sicily to Malta we managed to hit a fishing float device which the locals use to catch lampuki, one of the favourite fish. These are made of a polystyrene box covered in black parcel tape with a palm branch sticking out from the side. They are attached to the bottom by a long thick rope. The idea is that the lampuki like to come and rest under the shade of the palm branch and then the boat comes along and surrounds the buoy with a net and catches the fish. All well and good, except you cannot see these boxes in the water. And we were motoring along in the customary no wind situation and then there was an almighty BANG. Quick dive to turn the propeller off and then the observation that we were now stationary in a sea of polystyrene bits floating all around. And there appeared to be a rather large rope going under the hull. Horror and nightmare as it was difficult to figure out where we were caught and what to do. So we waited and slowly the rope began to sink a bit and an hour later we had floated free of the area. So what to do now. No wind meant motoring so we gingerly tried the propeller, sending if forwards and backwards and watched it spit more pieces of string, plastic tape and rubbish out. There is a cutter on the shaft just before the propeller and it was certainly doing something. But although we had propulsion it was not the same as before so it was a very slow journey to Gozo. So slow in fact we were too late to get in to the marina and had to anchor off. We were so tired, a little jaunt had turned into a marathon. However next morning we were alongside and happy to be “home” again, and in a very nice berth on the end of the pontoon so we could step ashore and not have to use the ladder over the bow – heaven.
So now we had another reason to go to the boat yard. We had already come to realize that there was a steering mechanism problem as Harriet and Terry were just refusing to steer the boat. We were having conversations such as
‘Dave,’
‘Yes, Jen’
‘This wheel is getting very stiff’
‘Nonsense, Jen, you are imagining it’
‘Nope, definitely stiff, can’t spin it with one finger any more.’
‘Hmmmph’
‘I think it is the rudder’
‘Can’t be the rudder, ‘cos then we will have to take it out, and that’s a nightmare, and awful and horrible and don’t want to go there. I’ll squirt it with WD40 that cures everything.’
A week later after many times a day anointing of the rudder stock with WD40 and much wiggling of the wheel by Dave, the time came to test the steering out. No improvement.
Another test, disengage the wheel and use the emergency tiller, maybe it was a problem in the linkage.
So we locate the emergency tiller from under all the junk in the back locker and put it on. This is supposed to let us steer the boat if the wheel gear breaks down, as it fits straight on to the top of the rudder itself. Now we find we can hardly budge the rudder at all. No way could we steer with it for real. The mechanical advantage built into the wheel steering was the only thing allowing us to steer at all, and no wonder the steering was heavy.
Now we had a very despondent Dave. The rudder will have to come off. Now he admits we should have had it off before, but was hoping to get away with avoiding it.
Then there is the eternal anti-fouling. The all singing, repels all, very expensive stuff we put on in Scotland after months of hard graft preparing the hull, has definitely not done what it is supposed to do. Not only are things growing in profusion, requiring a diver to do an underwater scrub when we had so much growth we could not go faster than 4 knts, but it is coming off. Big decisions to be made here.
So we arrived, were lifted out on the big travel hoist and propped up for the work to begin, and we are now in our happy chaos, all lockers appear to be emptied into the cockpit or the cabin, I am relegated once more to bilge renovation, and we end each day looking like little grubby urchins. Bliss.
Who said retirement meant rest and relaxation!
‘

STILL SYRACUSE

1 Jul 2011

So long since the last blog and so much has happened, even though we are still in Siracusa. We are having a lovely time just pottering about while we free up the steering gear and generally moseying about. It is so unspoilt and I have at last some pikkies to put in.
‘Jen’
‘Yes, Dave’
‘People will think we are idle tossers’
‘Will they?’
‘Yes. You never mention the 2 days we spent in the very back of the boat squashed up with spanners trying to get that gear box in. Or the days we spent testing Terry and Harriet and entertaining the Coast Guard as we went up and down. Or the hammer and chisel stuff, or the scrubbing stuff, or fixing the dent where the fishing boat hit us’
‘Hm. Thought it might be a bit boring for land folk’
‘ Not to mention all the walking to find stuff’
‘OK. Will try to do better or everyone will think I just sit and sew’.
We are in the harbor off Ortigia, the island which is only a few metres off the mainland, and accessible by bridges, and it is the oldest part of the area. Actually it is one of the oldest parts of Sicily with a very distinguished history. The sea front ends in a huge castle and fortifications, and I have tried in the photos to give some idea of the place. The ‘new town’ over the bridge is where we have found the little shops for boat bits. These you need to know about as they are not very apparent, mostly hidden behind small doors with no signs on them. But once inside there are all kinds of treasures. Ortigia is a mass of small lanes and alley ways which still have cars going up and down them as there is no main road as such, and in the heat the cool breeze generated and the shade is so welcome. Did I say it has been hot? Well over 30 in the day, 24 at night, but with the wind scoop thing rigged up front we get a good breeze through the boat so it is not too bad. And all the covers which I had made have come into their own. Dave paled at the amount of canvas that turned up in Gibraltar, but is now delighted to sit in the shade and look out.
That’s another of Dave’s jobs – keeping abreast of the goings on in the harbor.
We have been thinking of solar panels as the fridge is eating the battery output in this heat, and we have had to run the engine twice a day to recharge. There has not been enough wind for the wind generator to be able to keep up. So eventually we were introduced to a chap who had some for sale. Forget the solar panels, I noticed his T shirt and the next thing was he was ex Italian Air Force and I am ex RAF and he has a small aeroplane, and he found out I had my licence and the flight was booked for the next day. I was going flying!!!!! First time for years!!
Sunday morning up at 5am, kick start Dave, breakfast, dinghy down and over to the jetty by 8am. We were picked up and taken to the small air field the local aero club uses and introduced to the aeroplane. It was a 2 seater Scirocco, much like a Piper, and he had polished and prepared it beautifully. Dave had a look and declined an invitation to get air borne. So in we got and it was just like yesterday, and up we went and around the area, over the coast, Ortigia, over the boat in the harbor, back down the cast and back. Perfect morning and perfect flight and one very happy lady.
So that is why you have aerial photos too.

So now the photos



ORTIGIA
A good view of the old buildings and the castle.


















Our view of the waterfront











Aerial view of the harbour. Spirit is on the far left line, second from the front behind a catamaran.
























FLYING!!!!!!

SYRACUSE

11 Jun 11

The sun is going down over Syracuse harbour, Jen is sitting in the cockpit with her sewing, and Dave, in his self-appointed position as anchorage monitor, is keeping an eye out for arrivals and departures, who is going ashore, who is returning, what they have brought from the town etc.....

'Jen?'
'Yes, Dave.'
'This blog of yours, people are going to think we are a pair of dills.'
'Why, Dave?'
'Well we have only gone 100 mile since Gozo, and we always seem to be fixing something. At this rate we will be in Brisbane when we are 99.'
'It is just one of those things with boats, Dave. Everyone has something to fix. And we have done 3,000 mile since Tobermory.'
'I know, but it is going to be another week at least before we leave. Perhaps you can pretend we are really somewhere else.'
'Don't be daft. Besides, we are having a really good time here and it is such a nice place to be.'
'Suppose so.'

So why are we still here? Well, it is like this. We have known for some time that the self-steering set up is not performing as it should, and it has ultimately stopped doing the job, taking us in ever-increasing letter-S courses as Terry and Harriet (tiller and wind vane) try to keep on course. Having explored Terry and all his settings by motoring up and down the harbour, it is not his fault. The boat does not respond. As I do most of the driving, Dave being the jumper-ashore and anchor person, I had noticed increasing slack in the wheel. Not a problem for hand steering, but a big problem for the wind vane.

'Dave, the wheel has increased the slack'
'You sure?'
'Yup.'
'AAArrrggghhh. That means the steering gear has got to be looked at. Nightmare!'

And so spanners and stuff comes out. All the cockpit lockers emptied and stuff stowed on the deck (after the dinghy had been lowered) - full morning's occupation. By the end of the day one problem had been identified, and a man tracked down in the UK who could give advice (thanks to Rachel and her internet search). Advice given, parts ordered, more ideas for the next thing or two to look at. Looks as though the problem is due to wear and tear after 20 odd years of being in the water and steering. Pity the steering gear is in a pretty inaccessible place, but manage the trusty spanner-wielder has.

Apart from handing spanners, making cups of tea, doing the washing, and sewing, Jen is looking terribly interested in Dave's delight in the various lumps of metal that appear on the table from the depths of the bilge. Having something to do with greasy bits and spanners is making Dave a very happy chap.

More to follow.

PLAN CHANGE

7 Jun 11

So here we are, still at Syracuse after all. First up was the weather, too much fog and then the local forecast was not kind. So we decided best thing was to sort a few more bits out. Main job was Terry the tiller pilot who has not been working properly, so it was up anchor and potter up and down the harbour and try different settings. This was a relief as the swell was getting a bit too much for comfort. So up and down, up and down, up and down and no joy. So anchor down, lunch, and up anchor, and up and down again. Still no joy, but back to anchor in a better place and get the books out again. So tonight will be more experimenting till we get it right. Fingers crossed.

LEAVING SYRACUSE

6 Jun 2011

We have been sitting on the anchor at Syracuse for the last 4 days waiting for the wind to change direction so we can actually sail towards Greece and Croatia. This has been a good stop, getting the dinghy out and going ashore to explore the town and find the ubiquitous supermarket. It is a very old place and so far relatively unspoilt. We have also needed a stop as I had picked up some insect bites which have been gruesomely painful and itchy, with a leg swollen and sore, fit only for sitting in the cockpit with a wet towel over it and doing some sewing (as one does). Dave has done his furtling about with the engine and only managed to squash one finger and lose a spanner into the bilge. Of course it was THE spanner, and has since been retrieved with cunning and skill and a piece of bent wire. So we are all healed up, dinghy stowed and getting ready for a morning start. All we need is for the wind to follow the predictions - but it would seem to have a predilection for coming from the direction we are travelling to. It has been quite an international community here anchored up and as we all seem to be going the same way, is beginning to thin out a bit. The biggest shock has been trying to cope with Italian after being spoilt with the bi-lingual Maltese. I have found if I try my Spanish we get there, and there is no substitute for sign language. Just go to the pharmacy and start scratching and you get the right stuff with a concerned tut tutting which I took to be sympathy.

We wish our Michael a very happy birthday for tomorrow when he turns an unconscionable age, and also a very happy 19th and a bit anniversary to Rachel and Andy.

Off again!

1 June 2011

We have managed to tear ourselves away from Gozo and Malta at long last. It has been such a wonderful stay that we think we will call in on our return from the eastern Mediterranean.

For the last fortnight we have been spending the days and nights anchored in the Blue Lagoon on Camino, a small island one mile from Gozo. It is a magnet for the tourists and the tripper boats start arriving and disgorging people from about 9 am, and then there is frenetic activity of power boats whizzing in and out, huge pleasure craft and even bigger tour boats. By 5pm it is all over and we have had the place to ourselves apart from the occasional yacht anchoring. We have stayed longer than expected due to fridge failure which has required a new fridge and evaporator. No way we were going anywhere without a fridge. The marina were very good to us and let us come along side the pontoon when we needed to go to town or have the fridge man come.

More of this later when we are back on the internet.

So today we have set out towards Croatia and the first stop is on the anchor at Porto Palo, south east corner of Sicily (36°40.033'N/15°06.841,E). Started motoring but not long before the sails came out and off we went. Nice to find we had put all the ropes back properly! Excellent day apart from the autopilot not behaving, but he is going into intensive care tonight to be fit for tomorrow's sail to Syracuse.

These blogs are being posted by our Kate as we are now on the radio link.

FAMILY

7 May 2011

Having done lots of work this morning after lowering the dinghy into the water and lots of fun and games as Dave tried not to sink it or turn it over while looking at the sides, and painting some patches etc etc. More painting, scrubbing and filling this afternoon and now it is time to come below and cool down a bit at the computer. A beautiful sunny day and no wind - perfect.

I thought it is about time that we had a family catch up on the doings of the various grand offsprings. We have both two legged and four legged grandchildren, all of whom we love to bits.

First of all we have Harry. Now our Jo has 2 horses, Drummer and Suli, and much loved they are too, almost as much as husband Sean. It was decided that Suli was going to have a foal and so the saga began. I had not realized that a baby horse takes an eternity to cook up, but gradually April approached. Jo declined all offers of a layette, would have included ear holes, but then I suppose summer was coming. Dave was on tenterhooks, and grandpas are and texts were going back and forth daily, but at last Harry was born. Evidently he was a little bit larger than expected, since Jo put an order in for a small girl horse, and he needed the combined efforts of Jo and the vet to get him out into the world. So here he is. Cousin Dexter the dog in Brisbane reckons he very long legs for a puppy, but makes a very suitable cousin indeed. Now little Harry is being taught manners by our Jo, who is reading all the baby books, and he is running out in the field and being adored by everyone. So our Jo is now the proud almost mum of a fine strapping boy.




Then there is Alexander.
Two years ago Alexander entered the world a little earlier than expected and was ever so tiny, about the size of a bag of sugar.


He is a real little miracle and has grown and grown and grown, laughing all the way..











Well here he is at 2 years old, in the garden of his very first own home that Rachel and Andy are in the process of moving into. They have been living on a small flat till now, but at last they have a lovely house with a super garden for Alex to play in and we are certain they are going to be so very happy there – once they have recovered from the shock of it all! And now Alex is beginning to talk, and he is a great little singer too.
Our Kate in Brisbane has our Dexter, Assistance Dog Extraordinaire and King Fred of New Farm.
Our Dexter is a real star and as you can see just loves his Mum and also loves his toys. Dexter is one hard little worker and has just been off in the aeroplane with Kate to help her referee the Boccia nationals in Sydney. He is still a bit miffed he was not allowed to put his head out the window or get a pat from the pilots but he did get his own seat.


























King Fred has just reached the lofty title of Monarch as befits his majestic self.
Kate and I started a jigsaw when we were visiting her over Christmas, but it was not to be as King Fred usurped not only the table but the box of pieces as a new bed.






This is a person of high status and dignity, which is for sure.

FLAGS

5 may 2011

The day dawns bright and sunny, a light breeze and a gentle sway on the boat. Sigh. It cannot be put off any longer, so down the hole with the red paint while Dave goes up top and taps away at the remaining hatches that need a bit of TLC. After that it is a joint effort of chipping and hammering until the job is done. It has been a hot day, 28 degrees, so the cooling sea breeze in the afternoon is appreciated. Also in the afternoon we have our fun time watching the antics of the arriving visitors as they try to tie up in the marina. It is better than a comedy hour, even though we realize ‘there but for the grace of’ applies to us. The marina staff are very helpful and meet all the arriving yachts, it is just that the arriving yachts often do not listen to where they are supposed to go. And then there is the delight of shifting winds and boats that do not want to go in the direction they are pointed – we know that one as Spirit has a mind of her own if the wind catches the bow. All you can do is wait to see where you fetch up. Dave is in best behavior now as yesterday saw the arrival of another yacht flying the same ensign – the dark blue of the Royal Naval Sailing Association. Quick look in his little book and he finds out the new arrival is a rear admiral, so best we change our sloppy ways and take the flag down at night. This quaint custom is a left over from the old days – ensigns and flags are taken down at sunset as the sun is not allowed to set on the empire. There are many such gems he has from his navy days.
A couple of pictures of where we are.



If you look hard you will see the stern of Spirit immediately to the right of the large blue yacht. This is a very prestigious pontoon - it has all the old timers who would not leave while the pontoons were being replaced. The big blue boat is Polish, and we got to know the 3 lads from Poland who came to fix it up ready for the owner. They were lovely boys, and the best neighbours possible. One even went up the mast for us.




If you walk up the steps at the end of the pontoon and look towards the town, this is what you see.









An overview of the eastern side of the little harbour. The marina is right up the top of the left hand side of the picture near the entrance where the ferry is. Our pontoon is the 3rd one in from the entrance.

SHOPPING

4 May 2011

‘What you doing today, Jen?’
‘Mmmmm. Too lumpy for painting bilges, too windy for painting decks, too dusty to do house work …sooo. What about a little trip to town?’
‘Can I come too?’
‘Only if you are good and don’t tap your feet while we are window shopping’
‘Promise’
So off we went.
The ‘capital’ of Gozo is called either Rabat or Victoria, and is about the size of a provincial English town. To get there we have to walk around the harbour and get the bus, the times of which are worked out from the ferry timetable as they meet and leave the ferry during the day and night – except during Easter nights as we found to our inconvenience. We can also look out the back of the boat and see where the approaching ferry is to give us a time to leave.


This is a good excuse to talk about Malta buses, which are a breed apart and wonderful to behold and experience. Sadly, they will soon be no more, as the buses have been given over to Arriva, and will be replaced with giant new buses like everywhere else in the world – devoid of character and hard to love. And the fares are going up steeply. At present you go anywhere for 47cents, except the extra long trip from Valletta to the northern ferry terminal when you pay 1.16 euro.
There is no doubt about these buses being of serious longevity – Dave has seen an odometer with over 500,000 kilometers on the clock and this was one of the ‘newer’ ones. They are at present owned and loved by the drivers, and all have their little shrines and holy cards up front, some quite elaborate. Some have biggish seats, most have seats that are a serious challenge to anyone over 4 ft high. To fit in most of them Dave squeezes in first and I follow side saddle with feet and knees in the aisle to be tripped over. Equipped with luggage holds at the rear, all baggage comes inside the bus as it seems these holds are never destined to receive any luggage at all. So in come prams and pushchairs, large suitcases and shopping trolleys, overloaded rucksacks and shopping bags ready to burst at the seams. And off you go.
Now the roads on Malta and Gozo are as ancient as the buses, fully furnished with potholes that are fit to challenge the suspension of any vehicle. These are not to be avoided but approached at full speed and crunched into as hard as possible so the absent springs and suspension can transmit the maximum thrust to the occupants. It is a marvelous workout for all one’s jiggly bits and for compacting down the last meal. The noise is at first alarming, especially going up hills, of which there are plenty. Everyone is made aware of gear changes, and the increase in decibels Is matched by the increase in the volume of the conversations, already loud and energetic, as the bus is a social occasion too. We have had a great time on these buses, love them to bits.
So what did we do in town? Posted a letter, bought Dave 2 t-shirts as he is sure I have thrown all his favourites out. I think it is down to his filing system for clothes which has a logic all of his own and not to be interfered with. But he looks very nice in his new ones. And then we spied the perfect thing for young Alex, great joy, and a perfect thing for Dexter and a perfect thing for another family member who will just have to wait to be surprised. Coffee followed after a cruise past the sandal selling shops but I was not allowed to buy the gold ones with the 10” heels and strappy bit. Shame really. Found a copy of the UK Guardian so we can do the crossword and see the cartoons and Dave can agonize over the Sudoku. And then the bessiest thing of all. At present we have matching military watches for the boat as these are indestructible, can have the battery replaced without opening the back and keep excellent time which we need for the astro navigation. But my beloved thought that I should have a ‘church watch’ for wearing to town. I had one, it is now Kate’s as she was in need, and that one had a purple strap. Now I have one with a pink strap, and if you press the winder it lights up. I love it to bits and as it was in the children’s section it was a bargain. Not to be worn while painting bilges.
Back on the bus and ambling back to the boat we were met by the lady with our washing. Now this is worth a mention. Usually I do the washing on board as the previous blogs have shown, but while my paws are firmly attached to the lump hammer it has been agreed that the laundry will go to the launderette. Ages ago we bagged it all up and put it on the suitcase wheels and lugged it into town on the bus, causing all kinds of traps for other passengers. We then had to go back the next day and reverse the manoeuvre. Dave was not impressed as this time we managed a bus crammed full of folk and the laundry was seriously in the way, especially as we were standing and had to let people out. But we had met the lady running the launderette, Bea, on our return and she was aghast as she said she would pick it up from the boat as she came down our way to take the son to school in the next village. So now we have a wonderful arrangement, ring Bea, throw the bags off the boat and into her car and the next day they turn up all washed, ironed, folded and smelling really good. I think I will kidnap her for the trip. Alas, this time I had not heard the phone to say she was on her way early and we nearly missed her. As this wash had a mega offering due to the delay over Easter we needed it, but all was not lost and she turned the car around and deposited us and the washing at the boat. And she is a delightful person too, especially after her gift of a special Easter cake thing she had made and decorated. Almost too pretty to eat, but not that pretty!
And all this before lunch!

GOZO

I know it has been a long time since the last blog, but I was under the misapprehension that folk would not be interested in our non-sailing time. Much nagging by family and friends, including the plaintive cry from one of the boys that he was not sure where his mother was, has prompted a restart of life on board Spirit of Salcombe.

Today is sunny and warm, a good 22 degrees, and a bit too lumpy for me to paint the bilge, so an excellent time to let Dave get on with his bits up on deck and escape to get writing. We are still in Gozo, in Mgarr harbor on the south of the island. For those not quite so sure of their geography here is a little map to show the relationship of Gozo to Malta. We have been very happy here, having returned after our time down in Manoel Island on Malta for the lift out and re-fit. In fact we have been here so long we will be sad to leave, having made many friends here.
A brief resume of the last few months goes like this. Arrive Gozo for a week beginning of last November, then go down to Malta. Tie up in the marina at Manoel Island and go to visit offspring in the UK. Return, put boat into boatyard and travel to Brisbane for a month to sort out Dave’s visa and visit daughter Kate. Return and put boat into water and come back to Gozo where we can buy a month alongside for less than a week at Malta. Keep fixing boat and delay setting off again, and again! Still all good things must eventually come to an end, and another door open, so it will now not be long before the next setting off.
It will be impossible to recount everything in order, so each day there will be little snippets of past and present. Today’s present is to wash the deck yet again after another deposit of Saharan sand with the last night southerlies. I do not think there can be much sand left in the desert, it is all here. It came with a magnificent thunder and lightning storm right overhead about 8 o’clock last night. The sky went the oddest greeny yellowy grey and then the thunder did not stop rolling for minute after minute and the lightening streaked down overhead. Then the rain came and then the wind blew and then the mud made its presence felt. Brown sand gets everywhere, inside the boat through any tiny chink. It is a moot point whether to dust it off or leave it knowing it will be back again soon. So Dave is up on deck wiping off the bits he wants to paint, hoping it will dry before the wind starts up again this afternoon.

JEN’S FAVOURITE HOLES

Why am I not painting due to the lop? Well here is a picture of my current favourite hole.
It is in the galley and the hole you can see with all the black stuff is one of the bilges which had got itself rusty. This is my fourth galley bilge over the last weeks. It has been a horrid job chipping all the rust off, especially as the space continues under the floor all the way around, so it is lying down with arms disappearing up the bilge trying to hammer and chip. Fingers get banged, arms get scraped, knees give in and back aches, but it is all in a good cause as the floor of the bilge is the bottom of the boat which we do not want to disintegrate. Not that it is likely to as it is very sturdy, but it does not stop Dave from worrying about my efforts with the lump hammer and chisel. After 2 days of chipping comes the rust treatment, the black stuff, and then the undercoat of red lead which also means upside down and curled in funny shapes to get into all the nooks and crannies. Then there will be 2 coats of bilge paint. So when the boat is lopping about, being upside down with your head in a hole and the paint fumes getting up your nose is not a very unhappy situation. Best wait till things calm down tomorrow – my altruism goes only so far. Bilges are my job as I can fit. Here are 2 of my other holes.

This one is the windlass locker up the front. A particularly awkward place as the windlass stand won’t come out and it is all metal. Took me 5 weeks to finish it, but it is rust free and beautiful – for now!

This is one of the cockpit lockers, all of them needed doing. And all the cockpit locker fronts had to be sanded down to bare wood to let them dry out after their time in the Hebrides when they were always wet. Then there is the sanding, rust treatment, primer, undercoat, top coats, all nasty smelly epoxy paints. Again, I fitted, so Dave was left to get on with the deck. But they too look beautiful again, and a re-organization has also made things easier to access for doing jobs along the way. The plan is not to have to do so much all in one go, but keep at it as we are at anchor along the way.
Everything is so much nicer to do in the sunshine, and we are having loads of fun in the process. Sometimes it is just so easy to sit down for a minute and watch the world go by, chat to passers by and forget about the paint brush slowly drying.
More tomorrow, but now work calls from above – my beloved has lost something, so woman search required.