Grubbing About on Board

I didn’t write much once we returned to Spain in January or at all during the month we spent back in the UK afterwards. There just didn’t seem to be very much to say, to be honest. But now we’re back on the boat I thought I’d better get my finger out.

A very welcome site to wake up to – view from our hotel room

It was only this morning that we came aboard, having indulged in the luxury of a night in a hotel. Neither of us begrudge it, though. The thought of having to somehow access a bed on the boat after a late arrival and a long day of traveling was beyond daunting. You see, when a boat is “put away” for the winter, left to cope with the inevitable bad weather and potential consequences, a lot of work is involved.

Anything that the wind could get hold of – sails, dinghy,  bimini (provides shade in the summer) as well all the loose items like buckets, brushes and soft furnishings have to be stowed below. A cold, unventilated interior is asking to be affected by damp so anything that might go mouldy needs to be protected, usually by wrapping them in plastic bags, and moved away from the walls. These all have to go somewhere and every bit of space is utilised including the floor of the heads (bathroom) and the beds.

If the boat is to be lifted out onto the land every item that might either break or cause damage has to be secured in some way. Electricity is disconnected, water tanks emptied and the toilet flushed through with chemicals to clean the pipes and holding tank.

Neil let’s down the bathing platform so we can board from the pontoon

From all this you can probably gather that the boat is pretty much uninhabitable without a lot of work to put it all back together. Mostly dirty, back-breaking work at that. Bruises, cuts and​ broken fingernails are all par for the course. Even doing the minimum late at night is not to be recommended.

 

So that has been our day today. There’s still a lot of cleaning and provisioning to be done but we’ve both had enough for the time being. It’s T-shirt weather, at least for now, and it’s wonderful to ditch the shoes and get out the flip flops. Plus a little drink is called for. 

Fettling and Provisioning (Days 2 and 3)

Fettle: to prepare or arrange (a thing, oneself, etc), especially to put a finishing touch to.
Provision: the action of providing or supplying something for use; to supply with food, drink, or equipment, especially for a journey.

With temperatures in the mid thirties in the beautiful Ionian Islands of Greece, you wouldn’t normally choose to spend the day below deck on a sailing boat on dry land or traipsing round supermarkets and hardware shops. The owners of the apartment we are staying in can’t seem to get their heads around it at all. But time is ticking away so quickly.
The first day had felt very chaotic and almost destructive, taking everything out of lockers and cunningly devised storage holes, often resulting in piles of “stuff” making moving about difficult and frustrating. The following days, on the other hand were more about putting it all back together in some sort of order and getting rid of anything obviously superfluous. This is all easier said than done, mind, and hot, very sweaty work.
One thing we’ve decided to jettison is the huge anchor blocking the stern cabin. It’s a good anchor, never been used, and must be worth a bit even if only as scrap metal so it’s understandable why the previous owners kept it. But it’s over-sized for the boat and too heavy for the electric windless on the bow. We can’t use it so the owner of the boatyard has kindly agreed to let us leave it there. He’s not daft. It did take a fair bit of manoeuvering and ingenuity to get it to the ground, though.

Hours have also been spent in a determined effort to get some of the basic household equipment we needed. Plastic things like a washing-up bowl, bin, Tupperware-type boxes and so on, were relatively easy to find if at a much higher price than we’re used to. We had no trouble buying a decent frying pan but saucepans all seemed to be tiny or catering sized. Kitchen scissors were surprisingly difficult to find but we dropped on a little shop whose owner produced exactly what we were looking for and then directed us around the corner to another gem where we got mugs and glasses as well as an elusive tin opener.
The search for a slow cooker has been totally unsuccessful, though. Shops in which I would have thought it was a dead cert to buy one just had blank looks. It seemed like I was asking for something really weird and exotic. This means I’m going to have to rethink my whole onboard cooking strategy but I daresay I’ll cope. What’s a bit more sweat?
Other tasks included a visit to a phone shop to get internet access organised and sorting out the DEKPA, the documentation and tax demanded for sailing in Greece. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve got used to the slow and awkward way everything in Abu Dhabi works but these jobs seemed remarkably painless this time around.
Not everything has been straightforward, though. Desi still doesn’t have her name and number emblazoned for all (and the Port Police) to see. The the carefully chosen adhesive lettering we’d bought in the UK off the internet turned out to be completely useless, being undetachable from its backing paper. A frantic dash back into Levkas to order some new lettering before early closing was achieved with minutes to spare but we’d have to make do with Times New Roman. It’s supposed to be ready at 10am on launch day so cutting it a bit fine. Fingers crossed.