Still here! Bloody hell. It feels like we are never going to get back on the sea.
We get to the boatyard early as we have been promised lots of work will take place today. On the way there, I am bitten alive by some very hungry mosquitoes, either as we wait for the car, or in the car itself. Why do those buggers exist?
When we arrive, the boat is completely deserted. So much for promises. Eventually Isaac arrives and tells us that he has three guys who are coming to put the coats of epoxy on the hulls. Two do eventually arrive, sauntering along in their own sweet way. If they walked any slower they would grind to a halt. When they do work, they actually get right down to it but if they have any excuse to stop, getting them going again seems to be a problem.
Today is the day for painting the mast. Mike has decided that as I criticise his painting so much, I should be the one to go up. I dutifully clamber into the boson's chair (which feels like a giant nappy) and allow him to gradually winch me up. Once I am past the stays I grab the mast with my legs and wrap my lifeline around the mast then around me to stop me swinging wildly in mid air away from the mast, unable to reach it with my brush. (I have to do this because the mast slopes back a long way.) I only need to go up as far as the spreaders so that I can paint just above them. I have to manoeuvre myself past lots of obstacles on the way and grab onto lots of things to help my passage upwards so I don’t get a lot of time to worry about things. Once I am in position, I look down. Even from this position the deck seems a long way away and the view is great. I am not afraid of heights – just of falling – but I am tethered so securely to the mast that I feel safe.
I reach up as far as I can and start painting. As I finish each bit, Mike lowers me a couple of feet so I can paint the next bit, and so it continues.
We have decided not to paint the whole mast properly – there just isn’t time and the mast would have to come down to do a half way decent job anyway. Instead, we are just priming the dents and scrapes in the paintwork – a cosmetic job really. The ‘fun’ part of coming down is trying to manoeuvre past the obstacles while you have a tin of paint in your hand – not easy I can tell you but I made it to the bottom without dropping it although a few drips made it down before me!
Once out of my nappy. I gaze up. It looks so much better even just with the primer on. I then notice a place I missed high up past the spreaders. Maybe tomorrow I will go up and do that bit!
One coat of epoxy has gone on the hull and the guys have disappeared. Obviously it has to dry before they can do the next one so I let them off. Sean has arrived during the morning to continue fitting the radio. He looks a bit sorry for himself as he moves slowly around with his hangover. That’s what you get when you stay out drinking until 5 am, Sean!
Mike and I decide to go over to the bar for lunch, and are surprised to find no workers asleep on the tables. Lunch is surprisingly good; Mike pronounces it far better than his expensive dinner last night. I have a pork chop that has been cooked in orange with vegetables. It comes with salad and pasta and is very filling. In fact we are both so full that we know we won’t want anything much tonight so Mike makes a loaf of bread so we can just have some with tapenade. He decides to do the “quick bake” one – the one that only takes an hour from start to finish. Should be interesting. It has lots of oil in it and comes out looking like a brick. Mmmmm!
Back at the boat, another coat of epoxy is going on. I start to put the masking tape on for painting the boot stripes on the hull and just about manage to finish before I get epoxied to the hull. I swear if I hadn’t got out of the way in time he would have just carried on, or worse, stopped, never to start again!
Once the guys have finished and wandered off for the day, I paint the boot strap with the new jade green paint. We are having to paint the whole thing as the stripes that are there are not actually painted on – they are stuck on strips in a colour we have been unable to match.
By the time we finish, it is 5.30 and the boatyard is completely deserted except for us, the mosquitoes and the sand flies. By now I have trousers on to prevent any more bites, although Mike is frantically scratching his ankles.
We pack up, taking our monstrous bread brick with us, and head back, feeling pleased with ourselves for achieving so much today. Back at the cottage, I wander to the bar and buy myself a glass of white wine. I must have looked like I needed it as the waitress filled it right to the brim. I drink it walking back to the room, then finish it off before having a lovely long shower.
The brick is surprisingly good if you can cope with the thudding sound of each mouthful hitting your stomach. Before we realise it, three quarters of a large loaf has gone. We’ll have to work doubly hard tomorrow to work that off!
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