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.

Grenada Day 11

We go to the boatyard late again today so that Mike get some PC work done before we go.  When we arrive, the yard is virtually empty of people except, unfortunately, for the crew on the TMM boat next to us who swear constantly and loudly.  I’m not even sure that they are speaking English most of the time but they sure know the ‘f’ word and it peppers whatever they are saying every couple of seconds.  They were told off about it the other day, the marina employee looking in my direction when he was asking them to be respectful of other people around.  I can swear like a trooper myself at times and don’t get offended as such by others using such language.  I just find it irritating when it is done constantly – it shows a certain ignorance and lack of imagination.  Ah well, I just turn my music up to drown them out.

We inspect the boom – it looks better than I thought it would but I am still not happy with it.  Mike rubs down a couple of places then I apply a second coat.  We need to get this on quickly as the guys will be using the electric sander tomorrow and this coat needs to be dry before they do.  I use the tiny bit of paint that is left over to put one coat where the new bracket will to attached to the mast for our new reefing line arrangement.

Photo:  Painting the mast – will the excitement never end?

I go off to cook something for tonight’s meal.  My supply of mis-matched items is now becoming even more mis-matched.  I will have to go shopping soon.  I settle on angel hair pasta with anchovy, garlic and chilli dressing.  Whatever I prepare has to be eaten cold, and angel hair pasta is a bit like rice noodles when cold and tastes good.

Just three hours after arriving, we get a lift back.  We have lunch at the hotel.  I have salad as I am so desperate to eat some fresh, raw stuff and I’m sure my two glasses of grape juice (more often called Sauvignon Blanc) count towards my ‘5 a day’.

Mike goes back to finish working of the WCC stuff and I go for a swim.  By myself.  A first.  I swim up and down the beach.  It’s lovely.  I meet a couple of Grenadians, Gordon and Jane and we chat for about half an hour up to our necks in water.  It turns out that Gordon used to work in at GCHQ in Cheltenham where I taught, on contract, for a while and also lived in Norwich near my sister; Jane worked in London doing her nurse training.  What a small world.

Around four, I go back to the cottage to rinse off and to drag Mike off the PC.  We go for a walk along the beach.  It’s more crowded than usual, being a Sunday, but still lovely.

  Photos:  Views up and down the beach

Afterwards we go for another swim.  Mike leaves me in the water to go back for a shower.  I probably won’t be able to move tomorrow with all the activity!

After my shower I decide to use my hairdryer.  The electricity in Grenada is 220 volts with British sockets so up to now I have unable to use my US dryer.  However, we have found a transformer under the bed for the US fridge.  I plug it in and start drying on slow speed.  Its very slow so I crank it up and the dryer starts to make strange noises.  I turn it off quickly before noticing the strange smell coming from the direction of the transformer.  Turning to look at it I see thick clouds of smoke.  Shit.  I yell for Mike and pull everything out of the transformer and disconnect it from the wall.  We now have no working fans or plug sockets in the cottage although the lights still work so obviously I have blown a fuse somewhere.  We put the red hot transformer outside on the concrete step and go in search of one of the owners to explain what I have done.  Unfortunately the breakers are all under the cottage, just three feet off the ground (what electrician in their right mind would install them there when we are so close to the beach?) so Gerry goes under with a torch and flips the switch.  The fans come back on.  Phew!  Nancy provides me with a new transformer and a British hairdryer.  Mine (if it still works!) can go back to the boat.

We eat our cold pasta – it’s actually rather good!

Just before going to sleep, I make a very unwise decision.  I get the WCC manual out and begin to flip through it.  I am then unable to sleep as I give myself nightmares about what we are about to do next year!  Mike tries to reassure me but fails.

Grenada Day 10

Being Saturday we decide to hang around the cottage a little longer than usual but unfortunately the cleaner doesn’t have the same idea and turns up early.

The internet connection is good this morning and I am able to chat with Jo and Kev who were, until relatively recently, taking time out to go sailing, but are now back at work in the UK.  We spent quite a bit of time with them in various Caribbean islands before they went to the USA before heading home.  It is good to be in touch again.

We get to the boatyard around 10.30.  There is one guy already there finishing the hand stripping and another one is all geared up in the protective clothing sanding the other side down with a machine.  Dust flys everywhere and we have to wait for them to finish before being able to get on ourselves.  They are supposed to work until noon but just after 11 they have all cleared off.  At least it means we can get on.  Mike rubs the boom down again while I get on with some tidying and cleaning.

Mike mixes the two part special marine paint and while we wait for it to ferment or something, we have lunch, a strange mix of packet langoustine soup with pasta thrown in – beggars can’t be choosers.  Actually it’s not bad.  I’d be pretty pissed off if I had paid for it in a restaurant but actually I have eaten worse.

Just as it is time to go and start the painting, it pours with rain.  We wait it out – it’s heavy but doesn’t last long.  Unfortunately I have left my canvas shoes at the bottom of the ladder and when we go to start the paint job, I have to put my feet into soggy shoes.  Still, it keeps my feet cool.

The biting things that hang around under the boat are out with a vengeance today and I hop and wriggle around as I try to apply the first coat of paint.  Mike holds the paint tray, unhelpfully pointing out all the places he thinks I miss as I roll my way up and down the boom.  I am the one who has done all the painting and decorating in our home for the last 22 years (although I do remember him doing a bit before that).

Photo:  Trying to get a perfect finish

Anyway, eventually it is done and I am very unimpressed by the result.  Although the coverage is good, you can still see the depressions made by the dents and dings in the original paintwork and as far am I am concerned, the boom looks like it had a case of adolescent acne and now has the pockmark scars.  Mike is far more optimistic about the end result.  I will be putting on another coat tomorrow and then it will be rubbed down and waxed.  After that, there’s just the mast and the bow’s crossbeam to tackle.

Photo:  The boom; better than before but not good enough for me

We get our lift back to the hotel and Mike gets on with the programming work he is doing for the World Cruising Club (the organisers for the World Arc).  I lie on the bed, reading and listening to the waves until it gets too dark to see then I pop on a dressing gown and sit outside with Mike on the PC for a while.  Eventually the dive-bombing insects get too much for me and drive me back inside for a shower.  Later Mike joins me and we watch a DVD whilst lying on the bed, both trying not to scratch at our mounting number of bites.  Mike falls asleep quite early but I am now well into a book and carry on reading until it’s finished.

Grenada Day 9

The toilet still leaks after being fixed but it’s workable and sanitary.

Mike decides that as he is going to have a really hard day rubbing down the boom he needs to have a proper breakfast not just cereal which we have been having in our room since we got here.  So just after 8 we toddle down to the restaurant where he orders coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon; I order guava juice and a cheese and onion omelette.  Both come with toast and we are surprised to see nutmeg jelly.  Nutmeg jelly?  I am very sceptical but will try most things once.  I dislike nutmeg sprinkled on cocktails, not because of the taste but because of the texture, but when I try it I discover the jelly is delicious, – smooth and very sweet.  Today I have learned something new.

Photos:  Views at breakfast time

We arrive at the boat yard where today my task is to scrape off all the loose paint from the crossbeam at the front of the boat with a screwdriver.  We notice the absence of the radio fitting man – yet again – no surprise there!  At least our merry band of one working, two watching strippers are in attendance.

We get to our respective tasks.  It is hot but that soon changes and the heavens open.  This is the first time it has rained during the day since I have been here and it makes up for it, setting the theme for the rest of the day.  Mike decides to make another loaf of bread, but ends up making a soggy mess, as for some reason he gets distracted when putting the water into the machine and we end up with what looks like cake mix.  We add more sugar, salt and then flour, gradually adding this last item until the mix looks a little more bread like.  We now have no idea what size loaf we have made.  It could be an interesting lunch!

Sandy and John come to invite us to their boat after we have finished for the day.  They are in the water but still have no generator and no shore power so are limited in what they can do.

Amazingly the bread turns out OK so we eat it hot, straight out of the machine.  Our tasks are severely hampered by the on-off rain patterns today and I spend quite a lot of time previewing movies again and deciding on Peter’s viewing list.  I go over to get the quote for the batalyne window covers.  Another $1000.   Why is everything so expensive for boats?  They are a true money pit.

I do a bit more scraping and Mike does a bit more rubbing then we are done for the day.  We discuss what work we would like to have done on the boat and decide to do more than we originally planned.  While we are out of the water we can do a lot of the cosmetic paintwork which we had ruled out due to the cost of having someone else do it.  Typically skilled labour averages $50+ an hour.  If we do the work, the savings outweigh the additional hotel bills and boatyard charges.

Photo:  I don’t even get paid for all this scraping!

We go off to see Sandy and John.  They have very kindly bought a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the bar as I had pulled a face when they suggested coming over for a beer earlier.  I hate all beer.  We chat until it starts to get dark although this is probably more to do with the storm clouds we can see approaching than nightfall.  Sure enough, as soon as we leave their boat, it starts to rain again.

Our lift arrives and by the time we are back at the hotel it is pitch black but dry again.

Grenada Day 8

Mike’s middle-of-the-night battle is not with a cockroach today, it’s with the toilet.  I get up to use it and he notices that the cistern didn’t sound like it is going to stop filling up – a stuck ballcock probably.  When he tries to turn the water off at the cistern, the valve suddenly sprays water round the whole bathroom, flooding the floor and soaking everything around.  Eventually he gets it turned off and we mop everything up with towels.  Thank goodness it was clean water!  We resort to filling the cistern using the sink tap and a bottle – a long and boring task each time you want to use the loo, which of course, once it is inconvenient to do so, is all you want to do!!

Whilst enjoying our morning cups of tea, Mike is joined at his PC by a local cat.  He/she lies there in full enormous glory, mewing at Mike to give it some attention.  Why do they always go straight for the cat haters?  When eventually it is bored with Mike’s continual utterances of ‘sod off’, it comes into the bedroom to join me.  I am allergic to cats and quickly shoo it out.

Photo:  A little furry friend takes a liking to Mike – it’s not mutual!

We report the naughty cistern before getting our morning left to the boatyard.  Remember, we had to be early because radio man was arriving.  Well of course, he didn’t.  Apparently he will be here tomorrow.  Where have I heard this before?

The scraping and stripping is still continuing and Mike goes beneath the hulls to join them – he needs to rub down the boom before it is primed.  I decide to wash down the underneath of the bimini which has a nice crust of tiny dead flies brought down from more northerly islands.  Armed with nothing more that a nice soapy sponge I get to work.  Some of the flies just melt into a greyish brown gunk on my sponge; the others drop off.  Unfortunately as I am looking up at the bimini to wash it, they drop off on me.  Not very pleasant.  In fact I think I absorbed more protein through my eyes than I did from the tuna in my lunch today.  The ones that didn’t actually hit my eyeballs got stuck to my eyelashes as I have taken to wearing mascara to the boatyard in defiance of the generally slovenly and unkempt look of most of the people wandering around.  A girl has to keep up appearances, although today might not have been the day to do it!

Just before lunch, and with all the rubbing down complete, Mike announces that it is time for me to help him with the priming.  He takes the roller to do the large areas and I do the fiddly bits.

Photo:  Painting the boom

Photo:  Just look at that concentration 

At least it’s shady under the hull for me and all the mosquitoes or whatever the little biting things are that hang around under there waiting for unsuspecting bare flesh.

Almost immediately we start painting, the little stripper boys decide to hose down the outside of the hull with water and manage to cover me and my fresh painting.  I shriek, they apologise but carry on.  Actually one of them does come over to see what damage he has done to my paintwork and dabs at it gently with a dirty rag.  Obviously this doesn’t help at all - hopefully the rubbing down between coats will sort it out.  I decide to go down to the other end of the boom to carry on and then watch , incredulously, as the hosepipe is dragged down there.  I switch ends again and this time stay dry.

Various people arrive during the day with bits of equipment for jobs we are having done, leaving them all in the cockpit which soon begins to look like a chandlers, and better stocked than some we have been in!  I feel like I am never going to get this boat tidy again.

I manage to get another coat of primer on the boom – everything dries so quickly – which means that Mike can rub it down in the morning and we can then put the first coat of paint on.  Later than we meant to, we call for a lift.  I intend taking pictures on the beach but leave it a few minutes too late and the light fades just a bit too much.  Pity.  The beach has a subtle golden glow which the camera just can’t capture, but I try anyway.

Photo:  The sun setting quickly over the beach

Another early start tomorrow.  Apparently the radio man really is coming this time!  As I take my makeup off, I try not to think of squashed flies!

Grenada Day 7

Mike has another of his middle-of-the-night battles with a cockroach, although thankfully this one is less determined to live and I don’t even know the battle is going on until Mike emerges triumphantly from the bathroom to announce its demise.  Where do these not-so-little creatures come out from and exactly what is the point of their existence?

We leave early for the boat today as someone is coming to start fitting the boat short wave radio system – maybe!  When we arrive out little team of strippers are hard at it using the same system as yesterday, one stripping and the other two watching from the shade of the boat although I do notice later on in the morning one of the watchers doing a bit of stripping himself!

Mike starts filling in holes left by the removal of various pieces of rigging gear as the whole system is being re-jigged.  In a couple of days when all the dirty work has finished, we will be painting it all.

We show Sandy and John around our boat and they are amazed at all the storage space we have.  Their boat, Fat Dash, is going back in the water today, just five days late and we promise to go over for a look before this happens.

By late morning it’s evident that the radio man is not coming although his boss arrives to tell us that he will be here tomorrow.  That’s another early morning then.

After having a nice long chat with Heather on Skype, I spend the morning perusing the huge spreadsheet that Peter has prepared for me of all the films and TV series that he can put onto a hard disk.  There are loads that I haven’t heard of as I have been away from that sort of thing for nearly 18 months so I have to keep checking a movie database he recommended to watch trailers to decide if we want them or not.  Eventually Mike appears, stomach rumbling, wanting me to feed him, so I make a garlic, tomato and tuna sauce for some pasta, enough to feed us for lunch and dinner.

In the afternoon we go over to have a look at Fat Dash.  Sandy may have been jealous at all our storage but I am sick as a parrot to see their wonderful combined washing machine and tumble dryer.  What bliss!  What a saddo I am!

On the way back to Jeannius we stop to look at our boom which is lying at the rigger’s.  Mike attempts to explain how it will all work but my blank expression gives the game away.  I’ll understand when I see it in action.  We pop into the sail makers and get the guy to come and give us a quote for new batalyne covers for the windows.  We’ve spent so much money, what’s a bit more?

When we get back to the boat the boom has mysteriously arrived and is lying on props under the hull, ready for Mike to start rubbing her down for her paint job.  When did they do that?

We hear the boat lifter bleeping as it trundles on down the gap between the boats – Fat Dash is on her way to the sea, so I follow to watch her being lowered into the water and to get an idea of what I will have to do when its our turn.  She goes in without mishap, much to Sandy’s evident relief.

Moored just next to the crane is another Privilege 435 with the same rigging arrangement as we will have and Mike arrives to point it all out to me.  Now I can see it, I understand.

I go back to the computer and continue to peruse Peter’s spreadsheet and the movie database.  Peter’s spreadsheet contains 2757 entries so it is a mammoth task!

We don’t get back to the hotel until nearly 5.30, then it’s showers and PC work well into the evening.

Grenada Day 6

I wake up at three in the morning with a crushing headache, self inflicted by last night’s lovely wine so no sympathy is expected, but as I grope around for pain killers, it’s given anyway.  Bless him.  A few hours later, normality is restored - I have tea in bed.  Mind you I have to kick Mike out in order to get it – he’s out of the habit and needs several insistent nudges in order to take the hint.

We leave later than yesterday for the boatyard and arrive to find two men scraping the hulls of the boat.  Good, a continuance of activity.

Mike decides that we will give our breadmaker a try so on it goes while we get on with our jobs.  I re-organise the wardrobes and leave everything open to air while Mike gets down to the less enviable task of opening the valves to the holding tank so that any … outflow shall we say … does not go into the sea.  When we go through the Panama Canal we have to use the holding tanks and the time to check that this all works is now, not at the last minute.  It’s a good job he decides to do this now as two valve handles break immediately he tries to turn them.  If his mate Steve was here, he’d have knocked up a metal one for us with no problem.  As he’s not, Mike sticks them back together with Araldite, leaves them to set, and gets on with trying to turn the valves using a selection of tools and a lot of bad language.  When he takes the cover off, the whole thing is caked in lime scale, which, as it is brown instead of white, is obviously mixed with something more unpleasant.  He cleans it off then I clean him off with Lysol and washing up liquid.  The poor man has four of these to do.  Lovely.

By noon all is quiet around the boat as all the workers have knocked off for lunch.  Shouts and screams come from their little hut as the usual lunchtime game of dominos takes place.  They get very excited about it all!

Photo:  A game of lunchtime dominos

I knock up something to have with our bread when it is ready.  Looking in the cupboards I find anchovies, tinned Mexican chillies and olives.  I throw all these into my mini chopper with olive oil and raw garlic and voila, tapenade, sort of.  We slap it onto thick wedges of hot bread and stink the boat out.

For dessert I chop up the large papaya but it is really disappointing.  The outside looks a bit overripe with a couple of patches that look distinctly grungy so I presume it is ready but when I try it, it has no juice and very little flavour.  Not having a whole lot of fresh stuff to hand I some of it anyway and force feed it to Mike who is very reluctant to eat any more after the first piece.

After lunch I carry on with my cleaning but it’s very difficult as I can only run enough water for one sink load which I can’t empty as it will drench the men underneath the boat and all their equipment.  I can’t use the other sink as we only have one plug!

By 4pm we’ve had enough and call for a lift.  As we leave, there are three men under our boat, one scraping the hull and the other two watching.  Scraping with just one hand (and holding a lit cigarette in the other) the job is going to go on and on although I am sure it is a very unpleasant task.

Photo:  Watching the worker 

Back at La Sagesse, Mike sets up the PC on the veranda and I go for a little walk along the beach to take photos.

Photo:  Better than a day at the office?

  Photo:  The beach at La Sagesse as the sun starts to go down 

Photo:  Our little cottage at the far end of the beach

Photo:  My only company on the beach

Photo:  A magical view across the bay

Back at the cottage I pour myself the remaining glass of wine.  No chance of a hangover tomorrow!

Photo:  Relaxing on the veranda