Grenada Day 12

I wake up still unnerved and unhappy.  I wish I had never picked up the dammed manual.  I remember reading through it before, back in the UK when it arrived and at that point it didn’t worry me.  I suppose it was still a way off at that point, whereas now everything is just around the corner, hurtling towards me at breakneck speed – the great unknown.  Mike keeps telling me that I will feel better once we have started.  I hope he’s right for his sake as much as mine, because I won’t be much company if I’m like this for the next 16 months!

We arrive at the boatyard and find Jeannius is being sanded down again and dust is flying everywhere.  I mean to get ready for work but end up lying down on my bed feeling sorry for myself.  After a while I give myself a good talking to and get up and go back to find Mike.  We finish taking the loose bits of paint from the crossbeam then Mike rubs them down but we can’t get on with cleaning and priming until the sanding has been finished.  We don’t have to wait too long though.  At 11.15, and with a quarter of the sanding still to finish, our guy clears off, to who knows where!

However, the SSB radio fitter, Sean, does arrive and gets to work, although his work day is also cut short by not having all the parts and he wanders off mid afternoon to finish another job.

I go over to see Martin at Turbulance to give the go-ahead for the batalyne window covers but he can’t promise that the firm can do the job in time so we leave it that he will contact us if it looks promising.  As I leave, I photograph the ‘Gennaker of Evilness’ (as Victoria, my daughter, would call it – I’ve called it far worse – far more swear words involved!!).  It is lying in a shady corner of the veranda, in all its shredded glory.  Having decided that we will never use the bloody thing again, Mike was in the process of getting rid of it (I wanted a ceremonial burning) when Martin said that one of his guys makes hats out of old sail material so it was donated.  I just hope that it fares better as hats than it did as a sail and the reincarnated entities do not rip to shreds in the first breath of a gust of wind!

Photo:  The “Gennaker of Evilness”

The fresh fruit and vegetable van arrives and I go to Mike for money.  We have $12 EC between us (about £3).  For that I am able to buy some tomatoes, fig bananas, spinach and two grapefruit.  Lunch is therefore healthy – tomato, spinach and couscous salad.  Mike pronounces the fig bananas to be unripe (they are not soft and squelchy enough for him but just right for me) and eyes the two grapefruit up warily as they look just a bit too healthy for him.

In the afternoon we find a couple of wobbly trestles and balance a plank of wood between them so Mike can climb up and put a coat of primer on the underside of the crossbeam.  Painting upside down, Mike drops more paint on the floor than he puts on the boat (slight exaggeration).  I try to point out what he is doing wrong and end up losing my patience and stomping off in a hissy fit.  I clamber back onto the boat, swear a few times, then go back down because I suddenly realise that not only is it a bit dangerous to leave Mike wobbling alone high up under the boat, but he also can’t get down without me being there to hand the paint to.  He smiles benignly when I return which makes me feel even more of a bitch.

Back at the cottage, Mike works on the PC and I fall asleep, hot and exhausted.  I hope I get over this by tomorrow.