Tuesday, 25 December 2012

Happy Christmas!

http://www.caddylakgraffix.com/
Happy Christmas greetings from the deep, deep ocean. And very deep it is too!! And warm - sea temperature is now 31°c, Air temp gets over 30°during the day, 27° overnight.

No Tree - we did not find one floating by, alas, but we have a nativity scene embroidered on a little cushion, a gift from a dear friend, as decorations. The other ones like the angels and the crib have had to stay put as the lumpy-bumpy-throw-you-all-about stuff is back with a vengeance. I think Santa took us for a sleigh ride last night, we just wish he had not made the effort.

Still, we are in good spirits, and we are looking forward to roasting the potato we have nurtured, to go with the chicken we have managed to keep edible and butterscotch dumplings for dessert!! Yum yum. Or then of course it could be biscuits and cheese if the lumpiness gets too much for the chef!

Anyway, we wish you every blessing. We hope the four legged members of the family liked their prezzies. Big hugs to the furkids from us.

Jenny and Dave.

PPS Now 450 miles to go to reach Antigua:

http://www.worldatlas.com/webimage/countrys/namerica/caribb/ag.htm

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

Bounce and Roll

Well, here we are at sea again, and a rude reminder it has been that we are basically living in a highly unstable environment! Bounce and roll, lurch and fall, loads of colourful bruises, and lots of sitting around hanging on. The Wind is not the problem, but the confused lumpy sea is. However, today things are a bit quieter and I am falling off the chart table seat a lot less and able to type a bit more.
 
We set off from Mindelo with a lovely send-off from the friends we had made there throwing our lines off and blowing whistles and trumpets as seems to be the custom here. Dave reckons it is a sign they want rid of us!! He can be such a tease at times!! So out into the bay and set up the boat to go off downwind and out into the strait between the islands. Dave assures me that the waves will settle down as we get past the islands, and gullible me believes him! That was Wednesday 5 days ago! So lots of sitting and watching the sea and reading. Too lumpy to sew,  but will try knitting.
 
We had a visitor, a white sea bird, not a typical sea gull, but definitely supposed to be on the sea. He stayed with us for 24 hours and then flew away when some of his mates came by. He turned up his beak at the offer of tinned corned beef - maybe he was telling us something! We were a bit worried when he first arrived as he sat up at the back not far from the wind generator and I had visions of him ending up in little pieces. Dave found where he had slept - cockpit cushion - as he left his calling card. Then he settled on the loo hatch till his mates came. I have the feeling he was a frigate bird, but we have no way of looking for it on the internet at present.
 
Other visitors are the flying fish, about 2 a night so far but that will increase as we are going ever towards the greatest concentration of flying fish in the area. In the day time they avoid us, but at night it's a different scenario and a few land on the boat. They certainly can travel a distance out of the water and they travel in schools so the water froths and bubbles as they all take off in formation flying. The other night we had the deck lights on and when we looked out over the sides we could see the fish flying with phosphorescence dripping off them and making the scene look like some huge fountain.
No dolphins on this leg yet.
………………………………….
'Hey, Dave'
'Yes, Jen'
'Dave, this autopilot is lovely but he uses a lot of power. Should we try Harriet again, now we had the rudder fixed?'
'I guess so, but she wasn't very good before. But something has to happen or we will have to run the engine too much.'
So, out comes Harriet's hat. For those who have forgotten, Harriet is the Monitor wind vane self-steering gear which hangs on the back of the boat. She operates by means of a servo-pendulum and uses no power whatsoever. Her hat is the vane that sticks up on top of her to be tilted by the wind. So with all the strings attached we give her a go - nothing but a big fall off course. Another go. Same thing. Then:
'Jen, OHHHH NOOOOOOOOO'
'What Dave?'
'I have put the strings on back to front, that is why she is not working.'
'You sure?'
'Fraid so. Been a dill brain again. I will go and check the book.' 
Then:
'Jen, says here if she won't stay on track the strings are crossed. So all this time Harriet and Terry haven't worked it is because the strings are back to front! All that time going up and down the harbor at Siracusa trying to get Terry to work! If only we had put on Harriet we may have sorted it! AAAAArrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhh'
So cut, stitch, sew and attach again, and wow!!! Harriet works and has been working now non-stop for days! Which means Terry the tiller pilot that works on Harriet will work too (he uses very little power) and that leaves the big guy for those stormy seas and difficult places.
Which goes to show there is something to learn every day, which means there will probably be another mini disaster tomorrow!
 
 

Tuesday, 11 December 2012

OFF AGAIN

December 11th 2012

CAPE VERDE







OFF AGAIN        

We have now made a very important decision – we are going to prise ourselves off this jetty an make our way over to the Caribbean. The books we were waiting for never did arrive so we have now had our refund from Amazon and will just have to do without them. However, by waiting so long for these pilot books for the Lesser Antilles (7 weeks no less) we now will have no time to visit them anyway, so it will be a straight trip to Panama. We are not too disappointed as we were feeling less inclined to stay in the Caribbean and more inclined to spend as much time as possible in the Pacific. So Dave has just gone on a march to the docks to try and retrieve our boat papers from the Maritime Police and get our passports stamped ready for tomorrow. This is definitely not a nice place in town to go to as there are dozens of men just hanging about the port entrance which is quite intimidating. But there are quite a number of police wandering about and the main police building is just across the road. Then it is the last food shop, pay the last of the marina bill, retrieve the last wash from the laundry and a thousand other things and then off in the morning. No matter how many lists I write and work out a timetable, there is always a last minute rush of “why did we not do that sooner!”


Help!!!!

It is tomorrow  and we are in imminent danger of being ready. The last glitch is that the cash machines are not working and we can’t go till we pay our bills! But most of the stuff is stowed, just have to put the air conditioner to bed for the journey, turn on the engine and we should be on our way.

The editor is standing by to do the blogs from the journey, so if it is not too bumpy bumpy there should be updates.

Now it is leaving first thing tomorrow morning just after the sun is up!





Wednesday, 5 December 2012


Surprise!

December 5th 2012


The David and jenny saga is continuing after a lengthy break in transmission. I apologise to all those who have been waiting,  and say thank you to all those who have been prodding me to get going again. I can not believe that there could be so few hours in a day – even fewer when there is a man around the place! We have been really enjoying ourselves despite a couple of hospital adventures in Gozo and trips to the Gibraltar hospital, and, having fixed ourselves up and the boat up, we have duly set off on the next phase of the Great Adventure.
You will all have to wait for the newsy bits of what we have been up to in the Mediterranean. You will be given flashbacks for entertainment value when I feel you might be tiring of endless tropical sunrise and sunset descriptions. We are now in the Cape Verde Islands, on the island of S.Vicente, at a place called Mindelo. There are some good websites about the islands and also Google earth to look at. We have made a change of plan decision and instead of continuing down to Cape Town and then across the southern Indian Ocean to Hobart, we will be leaving here for the Caribbean and the Pacific to arrive in Brisbane around September next year. That is the plan as of today!
Before we continue I have to introduce you to the editorial panel. Once we are at sea I cannot post onto the blog, so I have a team who will take the text I send over the radio and craft it into the right format and post it.




Interruption.
“What you doing Jen?”
“Writing the blog at long last”
“Why the picture of the Brisbane crowd?”
“They are the editorial team. Dexter is the Senior Editor, Our Kate is technical adviser and King Fred is quality control.”
“Jen, Dexter is a dog”
“Not just any dog. He is an Assistance Dog, and I hear he has been called Assistance Dog Extraordinaire for all the things he can do to help Our Kate. And he goes to University for post graduate studies and spends hours in the library. He used to write poetry but I haven’t seen anything for a while, probably too busy, but he has beaten Kate and me at Scrabble a number of times. He has his own Face Book page too.”
“He is still a dog”
“Well, I have been assured he will be an excellent editor, as long as people understand the occasional references to chicken wings (food) and bush turkeys (torment).”
“And King Fred is a cat”
“His Face Book page has him listed as Monarch. He is a bit more limited in his vocabulary but I hear he is very discerning and will be an excellent quality controller if the editor gets carried away.”
“He is still a cat”
“Time will tell. Just wait and see”.

                                         ................................................................

So. 

Where are we now?

We are at a marina at Mindelo on S. Vicente, one of the Cape Verde islands. We have been here some few weeks now, trying to sort our life out (a never-ending occupation) and waiting for mail and the weather. The weather has arrived in that the trade winds have started, but the mail has disappeared somewhere deep and mysterious. We have made unproductive attempts to trace it, visiting all agencies we can find, getting the girls in the office to ring around for us as there is a big language problem and trying to contact the senders as well. The charts turned up at last, and took a whole day to be extracted from customs. This included Dave and one of the marina staff tramping around a couple of offices in the town to collect paperwork, then out to the airport by taxi. Then back again to pick up me and more documentation, and another taxi to the seaport to pick up a policeman (no kidding) who was to come to the airport with us. Evidently only he can get the charts out of the store. Then it was taxi back after more delays and more paperwork, with the policeman coming back to the boat with us so I could stamp his piece of paper with the boat stamp. Thankfully, I had made one up before we left out of a WH Smith do-it-yourself kit. First time it had been used. So much paperwork, a whole day taken up and a small fortune on taxis and money to pay for the policeman. But at least we have the charts.
It is a very different world here to where we have been up until now. We have left the affluent West and have now arrived in the not so affluent, indeed very poor, part of the world. There is so little here, the supermarkets are really what we would call large corner shops  - there is most of the real necessities of life but not a range of choice, and there are some days when the re-supply has been delayed and there are big gaps on the shelves. There are no High Street stores, there is really no High Street, and the clothing shops are mainly full of T-shirts and flip flops. The poor are everywhere, from the women trying to sell  bananas on the street corners to the men begging as you pass. The contrast with Gibraltar and its huge perfume and jewellery shops is overwhelming – there is no perfume and there are no jewelers. One thing that has struck us also is that there are no push chairs or prams anywhere. In all our weeks here we have only seen 1 push chair and that was off one of the boats. There are no Mothercare type stores, a few shops sell terribly cheap toys. The supermarkets do not sell much baby food at all – there are a few jars on the shelves, but not enough to feed a child regularly. There seem to be very few packets of disposable nappies either. Yet the children are clean and appear well cared for – but there are no overweight youngsters here as there were in Gibraltar and the Mediterranean countries we visited, as well as back in the UK. There are no sweet shops either. The supermarket has a shelf with a couple of bars of chocolate, some Mars bars and a few chocolate biscuits. The biscuit section has 2 varieties of sweet and a couple of savoury. The cheese counter has 3 types of cheese. Vegetables are so very hard to source and the quality is awful on the whole. Green vegetables are virtually non-existent, carrots are very poor indeed, and the potatoes can be great or hopeless. There are yams and sweet potato available, and loads of millet and grain, and lots of tinned vegetables. Meat comes frozen and has been surprisingly good – there is little choice but for our basic cooking it has been fine. There is no butter anywhere, it is all margarine of a parentage unknown to us which is out on ordinary shelves and not refrigerated. Refrigeration space is at a premium and is nearly all freezer space.
The infrastructure of the place seems to be depressed with the water and electricity supply being frequently interrupted. We run the computer on the boat’s 12 V system as the shore power is too erratic and we risk damaging the hardware. The marina runs its own generator at times, but now the number of boats has increased this is struggling. Our clothes were held up for 5 days in the laundry as first off there was no water and then there was no power.
But the people we have met are very kind to us, and the girls in the marina office have helped us enormously to find what we need. I managed to find the last black printer cartridge on the island but no colour one could be found. The church we go to has been jam packed and so vibrant and welcoming. I have managed to run off a side-by-side translation of the Mass and we have our English version of the readings, so the only bit we miss is the sermon. We have had a couple of Sundays when there was a big celebration and the inside of the church was moved out into the street, pews and all, to accommodate the crowds.



Tuesday, 29 November 2011

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!

Saturday, 26 November 2011

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.

Sunday, 13 November 2011

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!
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