Very early, Mike is up and sorting out his tools for his next visit up the mast. He hopes to sort out the navigation lights once and for all while we are tied up at the dock. Peter and Jim are in charge of winching him up. Luckily it is a calm day and after a couple of hours of hard work, Mike declares the new lights fully operational but his hands are now hurting and he is exhausted from clinging on and trying to sort it all out.
Penny and Peter are leaving today but Penny has hardly finished packing before she is cleaning some revolting dirty marks off the cockpit floor. Whatever will I do without you, my little cleaning treasure? It’s like having my sister here!!!
Ruth arrives around 10 am and we exchange Penny, Peter and their luggage for an 11 year old dynamo in the shape of Stephanie. We are looking after her for a couple of hours while Ruth settles P & P into their hotel. Stephanie is hoping to go for a sail but we are waiting for the decision on the marina’s pricing policy before we decide whether to stay at the dock or not. The marina is charging catamarans double what they charge monohulls – $3.50 per foot, which for a dock that has no electricity and until yesterday, had no water, is extortionate. Andrew goes to argue with them but comes back to tell us that they will not budge. This means that Stephanie will get her wish.
We untie from the dock and go in search of the fuel dock. We tie up, put our order in and are approached by an angry looking man saying he has 20 boats on his list waiting to be refuelled and we are not one of them. Not our problem, sir. The office told Mike to go to the fuel dock. He tells us that we must refuel and go immediately which suits us. Never have I seen a boat turned around so quickly. They even have a fuel nozzle which doesn’t make half a gallon of spray out all over the cockpit, and Mike pronounces it to be the cheapest diesel he has ever bought.
We motor out into the bay and anchor where it’s free but it’s pretty rough, although it was flat calm early in the morning. Stephanie enjoys herself on the boat and even finds a bit more cleaning to do. I bet she doesn’t do this for her mum! Mike lets her put the anchor down although I think she finds this more tiring for her toes than she thought she would. We need to put down a lot of chain!
Photo: Stephanie, chief anchor girl
Photo: Off on a choppy, wet ride to meet her mum
While Mike and Jim are away, I sit in the shade and watch the second half of our fleet arrive at the marina, having just come through the canal. I spot Voyager immediately and call them on the radio so they know it’s me waving to them. David and Susan are on the bow – it’s so good to see them again. It seems like ages since we saw them in the San Blas islands. All thirteen boats come in a line, like a load of little waddling ducks, and the fleet is back together again.
Mike and Jim arrive back and the go off to sleep while I write, and then try to publish the blog. However there are so many photos in it that it keeps timing out and I quickly start to loose my temper. This is not helped when an official looking boat comes zooming past then stops by us and a guy leans out of the window shouting at me to tune my radio into channel 10. I do as requested and just hear a torrent of Spanish and have no idea what is going on. All the racket wakes Mike and Jim and they come up to have a look. The boat then zooms off again. Mike checks the charts to see if we are in a restricted area or something but we are not, although he decides to move anyway. Anchor up, move a couple of hundred yards, anchor down. Who the hell knows what all that was about!
I manage to get on to Skype for long enough to speak to Johanne and even get video connection. I haven’t spoken to her for a while so the chat was very welcome. I turn my computer round so she can see my new washing machine waiting proudly in the cockpit waiting to be turned on. She is very impressed. Immediately I hang up I put the washing on. It works. I am in love. It’s official.
Photo: The object of my affections
The scary thing is that Mike and Jim seem genuinely enthralled with it too. Every few minutes one of us opens the top and pronounces it still working. We grin at each other like one of us has given birth to it. Sigh. Such are the simple pleasures of living on a boat!!
We watch the washing machine for so long that we are nearly late for the meal. The whole fleet is getting together at Alberto’s for the first time since St Lucia. We get ready but the thought of that now dark, wet dinghy ride into the marina is not enthralling. I get a towel and wrap it around me so that I won’t get too soaked and off we go. Luckily it has started to calm down a little and the journey isn’t too bad.
We have a lovely meal and chat to fellow crews we have not seen for a few weeks, comparing notes on our canal crossings. I show a few of them the photo of me cuddling my new washing machine. Those whose machines I have been coveting for the last month understand. Those who don’t know about treks to the laundrette look at me as if I am mad. I am. Who the hell cares?
Where are you storing the washing machine??
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