When we wake up we see that the unmarked customs boat is still making its periodic sweep of the bay, presumably making sure that there are no paparazzi around. We have lots of things to do to the boat so we motor over to the TMM base at Road Reef Marina.
While Mike and Joe do their stuff on the outside, Heather and I tackle the inside. I have to forcibly restrain her from cleaning the toilets – she is so determined to help and knows that I moan about doing them, but there are limits – it’s my responsibility. So instead, she makes the beds, making the sheets so tight things can bounce on them. I could never do them that well! Then she cleans the galley (which is pretty spotless as it has had nearly two days of being ‘Heathered’ already) and the saloon.
While we are both busy, the a/c goes off. We are attached to shore power and it has suddenly died. It is a general power cut in the area. We down tools immediately as it is impossible to work inside without the a/c on, and Mike gives in and puts the generator on. Hurray. Even when the shore power is restored, for some reason it won’t deliver juice to the boat so we stay with the generator.
Linda and Amy arrive around lunchtime, bringing their provisions with them to put away (or ‘up’ as Heather and Joe would say). They drop us in Road Town and go for lunch while Heather and I shop for the provisions for the meals we are cooking at Supa Valu and Bobby’s. The schlep back to the car is extremely long in the heat and we each have three heavy bags to carry (in fact I think Heather had four) but we make it, and we stuff everything in the boot, and Heather waits with the a/c on while I go and get Linda and Amy who are lunching at Le Cabanon.
An electrician comes to check out the power supply to the winch and Mike says he might have to strip back one of the beds that Heather has so beautifully made, to get to the engine underneath and she turns pale at the thought of going through it again but in the event it is not necessary.
Both Mike and Joe have worked all through the afternoon and early evening. The TMM base is airless, as it is protected from all breeze, and the mosquitoes are abundant and hungry. They look exhausted and ready to drop.
Unfortunately, some of their efforts are not rewarded. The replacement of the ball bearing part at the top of the mast is not a success, and after trying various ways to fit it, it is declared a bigger job than we have time for today, the old one goes back on and a date is made for a couple of weeks time when we are not so busy.
Happily, The Dove restaurant phone to say that their electricity is restored and they book us in for tonight, but it is chaos on the boat, and at one point it looks like we won’t make it. I phone them and put the booking back to 8pm. There are men crawling all over the boat, and one of them is hosing it down with chemical cleaner and a pressure hose. When he has finished, it looks cleaner than it has done for months. We cannot achieve those sort of results with Ajax, a scrubbing brush and an ordinary hosepipe.
In the middle of this melee, Chris Curran and his wife, Tracy, arrive, armed with presents of t-shirts for Mike and I. They are greeted by four people dripping in sweat from, literally, head to toe. Lovely. Not! I provide them both with drinks, and Tracy with magazines, and slightly rudely (on my part, as hostess), Heather and I disappear to shower and get ready, followed by Joe, and eventually, at 7.40, by Mike. This feels especially rude as it is the first time any of us have met Tracy. Poor girl. What an introduction to us and Jeannius!
We all manage to get into Chris’ hire car (me in the boot!) and unbelievably arrive at the restaurant only five minutes late.
We have yet another beautiful meal. The Dove never disappoints.
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