Tuesday 1 -Tuesday 8 May
Another Tuesday, another storm: it’s probably just as well maypole dancing doesn’t seem to be a Danish custom, as the wind is far too strong again and the ribbons would get in an awful knot. It is, however, another national holiday: this time for hourly paid workers…while ‘white collar’ employees go to work as normal. Meanwhile, Skipper’s work continues – and without payment, other than the satisfaction of not having to pay someone else to do it.
In summary, my binnacles and all their fittings were thoroughly drenched by the hose, to determine the point(s) of water ingress, and all the holes plugged with copious amounts of filler and retested for impregnability, before the steering gearboxes were refitted: once he realised the factory had put the lid labelled ‘port’ onto the ‘starboard’ gearbox – even when he was standing watching the engineer and asked specifically if they were the right way around – lost in translation? Of course, the bolt that caused trouble in the removal of the starboard box encouraged its twin to be equally difficult in the re-installation of the port box, but this time Skipper was ready for it, and there are now two newly fashioned mounting plates in position.
If you are reading this with a technical hat on, he is considering how best to create a ‘dyke’ near the top of each steering column, to draw away any future incoming dampness from these sensitive pieces of equipment to relative innocuity in the bilges.
Next, Jeanny my autopilot friend went back home, with a lot less time and effort, and finally the heating system’s fan unit was rebuilt and re-installed. As always, Skipper worked tirelessly to get me back in good sailing order so we can resume our cruise as soon as possible; the only ‘new’ job outstanding is waiting for a calm day, so he can go up the mast to remove the failed wind indicator to assess the damage, and order the parts required for its repair. Meanwhile, my crew will have to revert to sailing the old-fashioned way – by feeling the wind, and watching the water surface.
In case it sounds like Mate has been standing by idle all this time, let me assure you she hasn’t: she keeps the ‘magic hand’ appearing at regular intervals with sustenance from the galley, deals with multiple batches of laundry, and devotes every spare moment to her current needlework project. In between, my cockpit table cover and sprayhood, both rather greener than red, were removed, thoroughly scrubbed and re-waterproofed.
They did both disappear one morning, along with their four wheels – Daisy and her brother – allegedly to replenish provisions. I did notice, however, that Skipper returned alone, and Mate arrived much later, with less hair and pretty feet. Shipshape, if not seamanlike.
The weather gods seem to have finished training their juniors and it’s settled to warm sunny days and stunning sunsets. Probably sunrises as well, but nobody stirs that early these days.
During an evening stroll through the nature reserve into the village, in quite sultry warm still conditions, Mate spotted forked lightning from a thunderstorm away to the South. Sure enough, just as they got home, the wind filled suddenly from the South with a fierce rainstorm – but fortunately no more destructive lightning.
