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Trapped by an anchor chain and how we broke free

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Trapped by an anchor chain! This post tells the story of the trials and tribulations of preparing and securing our boat Saboteur in order to have a worry-free visit to see Martin Lloyd in the Philippines.

—

Freddie Mercury singing, ‘I want to break free’ is ringing in my head.

I was attempting to leave the Brisbane River to berth Saboteur securely at East Coast Marina in Manly while I visited Marty in the Philippines. I did not want to worry about Saboteur being left on anchor while I was away.

Let me step you back a little. I had had a restless sleep. I was overflowing with a mix of emotions. Excitement and anticipation as it was one more sleep before I would be winging my way to Marty. It had been two months. I was also a tad nervous, as it was going to be the first time I docked Saboteur myself. Normally Martin docks and I take us off the doc when we leave. It is just a habit we got into.

I was probably a tad overwhelmed as well. I had so many projects on the go and the boat looked like a bombshell had hit it. Not how I normally like it. I am a touch boat proud.

My partner in crime for the trip was Phil, a friend we meet while at Dockside Marina. He and his wife had owned a Tayana 54. They have sailed it around the world twice. I was looking forward to the trip and consider Phil a Mentor.

First things first, prior to picking him up I went through the safety checks:

  • I – Isolate (we are on anchor so it is fine)
  • F – Fuel, Aft tank full. Forward tank, 25 litres
  • W – Water
  • O – Oil
  • B – Belts
  • B – Bilge
  • L – Links
  • E – I forget… Need to look it up… Ha, ha…

I headed into North Shore Hamilton to pick Phil up at the recreational jetty. He jumped into the dinghy and we headed back.

We disembarked from the tender via the swim deck and connected it to its davits. I passed the oars and the bailer up to Phil then removed the electric motor outboard battery and placed it on the swim deck and then passed it to Phil. I had to hunt for the key to unlock the steel cable on the outboard shaft. Mental note – I should have done that earlier.

Found it… I unlocked the cable and unscrewed the clamps that secured the shaft to the transom. As I was mid-lift, Phil quietly said, ‘You really should have a safety line on that’. OMG, what was I thinking. He was dead right, and I had flashbacks of chasing my 20-litre water bottle down the river. Extra carefully, I lifted it on the swim deck and passed it up to Phil.

I then jumped back into the dinghy and connected the pully to the dinghy. Phil began to hoist the dinghy up on its davits. He informed me that the clamps were slipping a little.

Mental note: Add to the project list … replace clamps.

When it was two-thirds of the way up, the dinghy slipped out of the port davit and nosedived for the water. The river rushed into the bow of the dinghy. Next thing we heard was the sound of timber creaking and the definitive crack of when it yielded to the combined weight of the dinghy and the river current trying to pull the dinghy under.

Bloody hell. The good news is:

1. It righted itself. Woohoo! Love the Walker Bay design…

2. We had appropriately tethered the dinghy to the safety railing. Otherwise, it would have been phoning a friend to chase it down the river.

I assessed the damage to the swim board. Yep it’s broken. From my first inspection, it was too hard to work out how the damage was done. More precisely, how much work would be involved in repairing it. Secondly, we still had all the parts of the davit system. I took them off the dinghy and secured them on board (Of course, we now had to tow the dinghy, not carry it).

OK, that was a challenge we could have done without. Bah, humbug.

I started the motor and:

  • Turned on the instruments
  • Turned on the engine blower
  • Turned off the anchor light
  • Checked the anchor winch was on

We were ready. Phil headed up to the bow sprit, removed the snubber and got ready to lift the anchor chain. He did so, and every now and again the chain jumped out of the winch jockey and he had to lower it again.

Note: Another project, replace the arm pin and service the anchor winch. Great now I have two new projects….

I heard Phil say, ‘We are clear and all good.’ As he moved towards the cockpit, I put a little power on. He grabbed the boat hook and headed back to the bow. He signalled for me to stop. I did so. It was clear we were not moving forward. In actual fact, Phil said ‘We are clear and it’s not good.’

I made my way to the cockpit to see what was going on. Our anchor was clear of the water, however it was wrapped in another anchor chain. Bloody hell! We attempted to remove it without much luck. We really needed to lift the weight of our anchor to have any chance of removing the chain.

I phoned a friend. 

My neighbour Mike (Michael Hendra). He put on his life jacket and headed over in his dinghy. Phil and Mike discussed strategies. Mike positioned his dinghy under our anchor and we lowered it into his dinghy. Between twisting and rotating the anchor, with Phil on the boat hook and through Mike’s sheer strength, the anchor was freed. We attached a buoy to it so that we could avoid it next time, and maybe pull it up on our return.

With many thanks and a grateful heart, I waved good bye to Mike and shouted ‘see you in a few weeks’. We turned our attention to the voyage. We headed in the direction of the river mouth. It was a pleasant day with a slight breeze on the nose. I handed the helm over to Phil while I attended to some paperwork for my travels.

Phil seemed happy at the helm, so I sat back and enjoyed the journey. We were approaching Manly and were yet to turn into the channel when the engine coughed and spluttered and stopped. Bugger, I ran downstairs to check fuel tanks. I did not think we were that low. I had checked it after all. Luckily, we have a self-priming engine that pushes the air through on its own. And so I changed to the full aft diesel tank and we were under way again. I took the helm; my nerves were up. The weather conditions were still ‘perfect’ A very slight breeze from the South South East. It was brilliant. Remember, this was my first time docking. Phil and I spoke about which way to do it. Would we tie off bow first or stern first.

Phil suggested that we should berth bow first.

I told him that Marty and I always berth stern first, as we have the bow thruster. A bow thruster is a small propeller in the bow of the boat that assists with turning in tight circles. When docking it assists in keeping the bow of the boat against the dock. Phil informed me that they did not have a bow thruster. I got the feeling that he wanted me to dock without using the bow thruster.

We talked the approach, the speed and which way to turn the wheel. Bearing in mind that I suffer from dyslexia, and when I switch from forwards to backwards, I have been known to get confused sometimes.

The time had come. I really wanted to do this. I could have easily said to Phil ‘you take over’. But no, I held onto my nerves and I approached the finger. I could not see the finger as the sides of our boat are so high, so I ended up standing on the seat. I adjusted, a little to port and a little to starboard. It was more of a wobble zigzag, as it is easy to over-steer. The approach was now on point, I was slowing down. Was I at walking speed? … Hopefully.

Phil stepped off onto the finger to tie off the bow. As soon as he was on the finger, I turned the wheel hard to starboard and put her into reverse with a few revs. Beautiful, the stern of the boat was turning in.

I threw the stern line to Phil and he caught it. And voila – we were docked. It was not the smoothest nor the prettiest docking, and I have seen far worse. I did it, and I was chuffed.

We were docked

Phil went off to his boat to do a coat of varnish and I headed to the marina office to collect the key. We were meeting up later in the day. Phil was going to look at my generator to try and figure out why it was not working.

When he returned, we discovered that I had accidentally switched of the generator emergency kill switch. Ha, ha… I must have done it when I was checking the oil. He also noticed the fuel filter needed to be changed and the fuel housing cleaned out. Another first coming up for me to do this. It will be the subject of another post. For now, I was happy that I had docked for the first time, and that there was nothing wrong with the generator.

And now to go see my baby in Manila…

Originally published on Facebook on 10/09/22.

#sailingsaboteur #boatmaintenance #whatareyouwaitingfor #liveyourlife #getoutdoors #wearsunscreen

Saboteur with the dinghy
Broken swim board
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In Liveaboard

A life less hectic

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Russell_Island_aerial_photo

Got to love a life less hectic, an extra long weekend and heading for the bay for Easter.

Late Thursday morning we departed the Coomera River around 11am, refuelled at Sanctuary Cove, as doing so, congratulated ourselves as diesel was 20 cents a litre cheaper than Gold Coast City Marina. As we came into the fuel dock the wind picked up to 20 knots, of course it did. Tess and Martin Lloyd team ‘TandM’ docked perfectly again congratulating ourselves. Why not..? We were provisioned for the long weekend. All that remained was refuelling. Diesel for Saboteur, unleaded petrol for the donk on the dinghy and water for us.

We reversed out of the fuel dock with plenty of room behind and each side of us. This gave us the wonderful opportunity to let the boat, current and wind decide which way it wanted to turn. Once natures energy revealed her hand Marty adjusted the wheel, completed the turn, put Saboteur into forward gear and continued down the river to the main passage.

We turn north into the main passage. For once, the wind was coming from the south and was favourable for a sail. It has been our experience when we want to go anywhere (slight exaggeration) the wind has not assisted us (The south end of Moreton Bay is full of narrow passages avoiding shallows and sand traps, so sailing room is not easily found).

I head below to secure loose items, something we should have done before departing. Meanwhile Marty single handily set up the staysail to make use of a following breeze, and we motor sailed up the main passage. Later he brought in the sail between a narrow point in the passage as we were on low tide and we did not want gusts of wind pushing us on to sand banks.

We enjoyed the combination of motor sailing and navigating the challenges of Morten Bay on low tide. Both just grateful to be out and travelling again.

With a deep sense of happiness we dropped anchor in one of our favourite spots.

We were back at Russell Island. Our plans were to spend two days there and then two days heading back to the Brisbane River. We need to be there as I am working on a boat at River Gate Marina for a couple of weeks.

It had been cool and windy and we were grateful to be back in a sheltered spot. I was feeling the cold, winter is coming. (Ha, ha it was below 30 and above 20 degrees Celsius). We had a nip of cognac to assist our bodies to warm up, followed by dinner and watched music concerts on You Tube until our eyelids became too heavy and we went to bed.

About 4.30 am Zac woke me to come and sit in the cockpit with him.

He was really excited and insistent. I got up and went with him to the cockpit. There were a school of fish having fun near the boat. He wanted me to sit with him and watch. Perhaps he wanted me to throw a line in which I briefly considered. I was happy to sit in the moment with Zac sitting next to me contently purring away. I had plugged in my iPhone to charge overnight but forgot to turn on the power, so what would have been a lovely chilltime video remained just Zac and my moment. As I describe it to Marty in the morning, it was a Winnie the Pooh moment in my mind.

Good Friday was peaceful. Marty baked me a gluten free hot cross bun inspired loaf.

We had steaming slices of homemade bun with lashes of melted butter and strawberry jam.

It was so good. Marty read, I sewed (still working on the cushions and winch covers). Did some hand sewing as well and played ‘Patience’ the card game. It was such a lovely lazy day.

With the passing of the day, our normally quiet anchorage started to become crowded. It was a great spot for protection from the Southerly winds. Rarely is there more than one or two other boats here. By evening time, I counted 24. That’s OK. I am happy to share.

The boat next to us was True Blue V. The last few days they had been anchored about the same distance from us in the Coomera River. Craig and Leanne invited us over for a coffee. We learnt they bought their boat in California and had sailed it home. They are my kind of sailors. They had a loose plan and would turn up at a place and if they liked it, they would stay. This is how they ended up spending a year in Mexico and several years sailing around Fiji.

We were on our way to Lindsay Hick.

Marty would be making us DimSim soup for lunch. We learnt that Craig and Leanne knew Lindsey, so we invited them to join us for lunch. Like typical sailors they went with the flow and said yes. We all piled into our 10ft dinghy and headed to shore. It was approximately a 20-minute motor. Lindsey was waiting for us at the boat ramp and he and Marty hauled our dinghy out of the water on to the ready trailer. We laughed and hugged. Big hugs of good friends accompanied with exclamations that we could see Lindsey’s face. He had trimmed his beard off. We piled into his Pajero and headed off to his place.

Lindsey’s house is quirky, unique and I love it.

He is a house builder and a ship wright and built it himself. We walked around the yard stopping to smell fruit, flowers, herbs and admire how much the garden had grown in the last few months. The new shed, retaining walls and other projects were amazing. We then headed inside, again admiring the progress, the house is close to finished. Marty set up in the galley and started making lunch. We all talked, laughed, ate and shared stories for hours.

Eventually we had to leave. Lindsey ladened us with home grown produce. We said our goodbyes accompanied with more hugs and good wishes. Reluctantly we left. It was the turning of the tide and slack water which means we would have less resistance from the current. This was of great importance to us with four adults in our small dinghy (2.5 hp donk) and heading into strong southerly winds.

There were a few takeaways from the day…

… sailing tips, destination tips, learnings and many more. Of great interest to me, Craig had almost finished doing up all the brightwork on True Blue. Brightwork is the yachting term for the timber interior. It was stunning. It was as good as new. They told us it had become damaged and neglected after 20 years since built and 6 years of their living aboard.

Craig did it himself. I asked a million questions and hopefully have taken on board his advice as I intend to do the floors on Saboteur while Marty is away in the Philippines. I hope it comes up as well as True Blue’s floors.

Saturday evening was quiet. Dinner was bits and pieces, predominantly cheese and biscuits. We took time to rough out our travels for the next two days checking tides, winds, time frames and checking once again. We were clear, we were leaving at 9am to make the most of high tide.

I took us off the anchor at Russell Island. I need the practice.

As we headed back past Millionaires Row, Marty’s phone rang. A friend, Daniel Cooke was camping on Straddie, saw us pass by and he was waving from the shoreline. We waved back and continued on our way enjoying a relaxing passage up to South of Macleay Island we dropped anchor mid-afternoon. We both had a nap. I finished installing a cat flap on the companion way. Zac can now come and go inside or out as much as he wants. I am sure he will still wake me to come and sit with him to watch the fish.

We had a lazy dinner of bangers and mash and an early night. I lifted anchored at Macleay and turned the boat to head north. As we turned the corner a dugong popped up, rolled over as if to wave us goodbye. We were on a familiar route.

Our thoughts turned to other things. We had plans for when we drop anchor near the Gateway Bridge starting with a trip to shore, a cuppa with Bill, collecting our mail of him before he delivers Marty to the train station, so he can go back to the Gold Coast and pick up his motorbike.

We are gradually learning to embrace a life less hectic. A lazy two day voyage by yacht is a 1 hour ride by motor bike.

It is truly a life less hectic.

Originally published on Facebook on April 18, ’22

Russell Island is a favourite location. I often write when I am under her spell. Check out my peak hour post from Lindsey’s place.

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My search for happiness

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1957 Century Corondo Chamberlain

My search for happiness in a world of uncertainty.

Being stuck in a holding pattern, waiting for borders to open and an appropriate weather window to present itself so that we can commence our voyage to NZ, has been frustrating.

We (Martin Lloyd and I) were both ready for a change, or so we thought. However, not only is our journey a physical journey of exploring the world by yacht, it has also been a mental challenge.

We were stuck in our lives.

Even though moving on to Saboteur our routines had changed considerably, we easily fell into new habits fed by our self-image and our expectations of what our life would be like.

I am not talking about wearing designer deck shoes, and matching outfits (which personally I hate) and cocktails at sunset, although the latter is very nice thank you very much. I am talking about the practical; the very practical things along the lines of what are we doing for money. For me, what was I going to do when I stepped away from my locally based clients? These questions become more complex when we add the questions of what gives us meaning, and what makes us happy? My search for happiness began. It was imperative as we both needed to make this journey work.

Like many people I struggled in 2021.

I struggled finding my way through the now well established COVID era. Even though Queensland hardly saw lock down its impacts saw my clients hesitated to commit to work. I pushed on. Despite appearances everything was stressful. I could not let go of that feeling. I was becoming obsessive. Trying to do everything. I had no off switch. I looked in the mirror and I could not recognise myself. My jaw was clamped. I had started grinding my teeth, something I have never done previously. I had promised Marty, I would see the doc.

My doctor gave me an extensive questionnaire to work through to assess stress, anxiety and depression. My stress levels were off the radar.

I started on medication. I thought I would be last person on the planet to go on medication. It gradually started taking the edge off things. Little by little I could feel the stress’s hold on me loosening. It was going to be a journey. I still had to have income.

My head was stuck in my consulting world. Eventually, I came up with a new delivery model. A blended training model that combined two weeks of on-line lessons in a private Facebook group, a couple of Q&A sessions, and hot-seats, finishing the training with individual coaching sessions. I started delivering my ‘Lost for Words Basecamp’, for those moments when words fail you.

Finally, I had a model I loved and my clients loved. It will work for us as we go sailing, and is now my focus. My friend Litsa Barberoglou suggested that the ‘Lost for Words Basecamp’ should be the only thing I focus on, plus any coaching / consulting work which comes from that. She said it should be my thing, and she is right. I was so alive during the basecamp. I love watching my online clients transition from being lost for words to finding their voice and seeing the transformation in their lives. Personally, I was still obsessive. I could not switch off. Still not relaxing. Still worried about income and what the future looks like. My search for happiness continued.

In my wandering and researching state I became distracted by a training course on how to a make a heavy duty waterproof bag. It was a chance to use my hands and switch off my head. I signed up, shot the details to a girlfriend who also signed up. We arrived on the first day and as we walked into the lab, I was grinning from ear to ear. I said to Zoe Black, this is like going back to university for me. My undergrad was in Industrial design, and each year we had our own common room and lab where we would work on our projects. Perhaps, I appreciated a dedicated workspace even more now that we live on our yacht. So just maybe there was a little happy dance because of a sense of space.

It was like I was transported back to my student days, plus hanging out with one of my favourite people.

The first lesson, we did training on the sewing machine, setting tensions, stitch size, thread and practiced sewing thick material. I bent a needle. Something I have never done before. I bought home the vinyl I was practising on and it now sits under Zac’s water bowl. We also cut out our pattern. I wish I had bought it home as sadly, the lab flooded the next day. The lesson renewed my energy to get back in finishing my cockpit cushions (redesigned them as well) and started on the winch covers.

I still had the worry about income.

Marty came home one day and told me a company he has been helping out were struggling. They were 6 weeks behind in orders, and not packing boxes fast enough. He said he would ask if I could help them for a couple of days. And so I went in and helped them, wait for it, to assemble and pack Licence plate holders. Yeh, that’s right. The amazing thing was it was relaxing, I could switch off and as I was assembling them and stacking them, I would make crosses that I was calling kisses, and I was sending these kisses across the universe to those who needed them. So many of my close friends are struggling at the moment. I was surprisingly happy in my switched off zone sending love across the universe.

Meanwhile, we moved the boat to the Gold Coast to get some work done and I continued the couple of days a week. It was with great satisfaction we caught up on the back log. I had told the owner that they needed to be recruiting. It was the circuit break that I needed to switch my head off for a while. I was still happy to help out for a little longer, I was not intending to stay.

I was now running my third basecamp and loving it and managing to queeze the on-line sessions before heading into work.

The weather window for the trip to NZ is still not looking promising.

I needed to do something else. But what?

I recall our favourite shipwright, Shannan Batey of The Boat Builder, saying he had more work than what he could handle, and was turning work away. I have long admired his workmanship and how he is teaching his apprentices. So, I took a deep breath and phoned him up, and casually asked if he needed a hand. Even as I was speaking casually, I was surprised of how aware I was of really wanting this. For some of you this may seem a little odd. Perhaps you may not know I spent my first 10 working years on the tools. I am a jeweller by trade. Many of these skills are transferrable. He asked me a few questions, in particular what type of work do I want to do.

I said I don’t care, anything including the dirty work.

He told me he would start me grinding anti-foul off the bottom of a medium size steel hull thingy with 2 x 250hp outboards on the back. Talk about a baptism of fire. This is a very dirty job. Anti-foul is a poisonous substance that is painted on the underside of boats to prevent barnacles and growth from calling your boat their home. I was guessing the next job I was to do would be to replace the anti-foul which is even more disgusting. I didn’t care. They are skills that are useful to me.

That was a Friday, and I was to start the next Thursday as I was doing a mediation on Monday and assembling number plates holders on Tuesday and Wednesday. I had a silly grin on my face in anticipation all week.

When I arrived, the shipwright was not there and Kurt (the lead and a damn fine tradesman) gave me my task.

I was taken to a gorgeous 1957 Century Coronado Chamberlain.

A classic wooden boat designed for water sport and skiing. It has seriously gorgeous retro styling. It was the era of Elvis Presley and 1957 Number 1 with ‘All Shook Up’. Think the Thunderbirds (the TV show and the car (refer photo)) and the classic lines of the Chev’s and the Cadillacs from the era. The boat was complete with the chrome trim flares. She was beautiful.

The timber needed restoring, along with some of the paint work.

And so, I have spent the next three days working on this gorgeous boat. Thursday I was on my own with Kurt checking in on me. Friday, I had Jo the apprentice with me and Saturday morning I was on my own. I have been so, so happy. I have the skills however not the knowledge of the industry. Being shown what is required and provided with instruction on materials etc. and then being left to work on it has been magic. The shipwright when he turned up on Friday looked at my work, pointed out a few things I missed and said, he can see I will be doing their detail work. I have loved this work.

I have felt my grandfather with me. He was a chippy and a builder and died when I was 17. He taught me to use a saw, to sharpen chisels and how to drink whiskey neat.

I have had some funny moments.

I was using a disc sander to cut back the stern deck. This is gorgeous timber panels with contrasting colours. It was water damaged and bowed. I needed to sand it back in four places to remove the bow and restore the original curve. I was in the boat with the sander, face mask on and sanding away with the 80 grit. Every now and again, I took my finger off the trigger to stop it, so I could observe my work, check the line, the curve and the shape. On about the third or fourth time, it would not turn off. I shouted out to Shannan the shipwright with my mask on.

Me: ‘Turn off the power.’

Shannan: ‘I can’t hear you.’

Me: ‘Turn off the power.’

Shannan: ‘I can’t hear you.’

I am holding the spinning grinder, I raised it and shouted ‘POWER’.

Shannan disconnects the power cord.

He showed me the button I was holding down that keeps it going, while I was also trying to turn it off. Ha, ha. This happened a few times.

The first day I went in to work, I was nervous.

Will I be too slow, will I be too detailed? These fears are less of a concern now. I was also excited.

On Friday over a beer, I asked Shannon if he minded if I kept a logbook of what I do and if he would sign it off for me, as I might be able to pick up work at different marinas. He was more than happy to. He also suggested I go for recognised prior learning, and go for my Shipwright Certificate. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.

He is already talking about detailing work on another boats. He also talked about letting me loose on a prawn trawler that has been converted to a home. She is based in the Brisbane river, right next to our old anchor spot. I could either take the dinghy or kayak to work.

Four weeks in and I am feeling incredibly happy and personally satisfied.

I have a balance between using my head and my hands. This has been a struggle all my life. I have a plan for the next few months and the consistency in the cash flow is welcome. For the first time in about 18 months, I truly feel the stress passing me by, and my energy connecting with the universe. I am incredibly happy.

While I wrote most of this post at the end of the first week on being on the tools, I have hesitated to post it. Will I fall out of love of being on the tools or my basecamp model or coaching work? Will the balance continue to make me happy? Time has that answer. We have made some decisions that have helped me focus.

Our goal now is to work until September and then go sailing for the following 6 months. We will work on repeating this pattern. I will continue my basecamps and coaching while sailing. Finding this path and balance feels similar to starting my jewellery apprenticeship (all those years ago) and my first day of university when I started studying Industrial Design. (Again, all the years ago). There is an excitement in me, a joy and the love of life is flowing back.

My new right of passage.

Originally published on Facebook on April 10, ’22

A note on the photos.

The photo feature photo is another boat that has been restored and will give you an idea of what this boat will look like when it is finished.

Various photos of progression of the timber restoration on a hand built time ski boat.

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Christmas anchoring adventures. 25 December 2021.

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For our Christmas anchoring adventures, It was 10.30ish when the storm had passed. The air was heavy with damp. It was humid from the summer storm. At the same time, it was pleasant as there was enough breeze to take the edge off the humidity.

It had been a long lunch. A long Christmas lunch that had rolled into the afternoon and then evening. Great company (Bill Fuller and David John Dabrowski), great food (thank you Bill) and conversation. Until we were slowing into a food coma, sprawled out across Bill’s lounge fighting for control of the remote as we listen to rock videos. Starting with Feliz Nadidad.

We arrived back to the boat ramp full, content and ready for bed. We put the dogs in their life jackets and our Christmas loot in the dinghy and plunked our very full selves in there as well and commenced the short commute from the jetty to the yacht. As we rounded the corner of the jetty, we could see that our yacht was no longer on the outside of our neighbouring yacht, the Tardis II. Curious. As we approached, we knew they were too close together for comfort. As we closed, we could see my fishing rod was broken, snapped and sadly hanging off the stern, the first sign of the misadventure. Little did we know at that point in time more was to come.

We thought the Tardis II may have drifted. It had.

We snapped out of our indulgent haze to be wide awake. Obviously, we needed to move away from Tardis II. Marty (Martin Lloyd) starts Saboteur’s engine and I go up the front to raise the anchor. This is done with an electric winch as there is no way I would be able to lift 30m of chain and an Excel anchor weighing 32 kilos. As the anchor breaks the surface I involuntarily say ‘whoa’. Curious as it’s not an expression I really use. However, that is what came out of my mouth. Marty shouts “what did you say, you have to speak up”. I walk back to the cockpit and tell him he needs to check it out for himself. We had lifted not only our anchor but another anchor chain and yet another, both wrapped around our ours. We had two alien anchor chains hooked onto our anchor.

There was no way I would be able to lift them off. So I take over at the helm and Marty inspects the situation. He grabs the boat hook hoping to release one chain. That was never going to work. Each chain was twisted and holding the other in place. Lucky us.

Some quick thinking

If we could lift our anchor on one of the halyards and rotate the boat we might be able to slip one anchor chain off. So, I jump in the dinghy and start nudging our boat. Marty says you will need more power than that and so I give her some more power. She is turning. Marty could rotate the anchor enough and the first chain slipped back into the darkness of the water. Brilliant, one down and one to go. The second chain is draped over the anchor shank and cannot be persuaded to slip off as it keeps catching on the anchor blades.

We are assessing the situation and realise the only way to get the second chain of is to remove our anchor chain. This requires us the continue to lift our anchor on the halyard high enough that we can undo the D shackle. I raise the anchor on the halyard winch at the mast. Marty goes downstairs to grab the tool to undo the D Shackle. We have another problem. The nudging the boat to turn… well she was still turning. The first turn we both ignore thinking that she would slow down and while she was close Tardis II, she was not going to hit. But on the second turn I am on the boat hook having to push our stern of Tardis’s bow. Meanwhile Marty is still downstairs.

We are still turning, and drifting.

With the drift we are getting closer again. The next turn I and have to push from about 2 meters from our stern. I know the next turn I would not be able to stop the collision. I throw fenders over the side (love our set up for the fenders, super easy and quick).

Then I jumped on the helm and took her out of neutral into reverse. I give it a squirt or two to move slightly away from our nemesis. Remember we are still hooked to an anchor chain. Which now has at least three more twists in it.

Marty appears in the cockpit once again. I put the boat back into neutral and join him. The extra twist in the chains is not helpful. Marty manages to undo the pin in the D Shackle however the extra weight on the chain was making it very hard to remove the pin. Somehow together we managed to pull the pin out, releasing our anchor from the entangled chain. I am back on the winch and lift our anchor higher so that we can now swing it over the safety line and lower it onto our deck. We leave it in place and head out into the main channel. By this stage it is around 12.30pm.

We had to reconnect our anchor chain to the anchor and put it back in place on the bow rollers ready to re-set. But more importantly work out where we were going to anchor. Marty says take us somewhere safe, as we need two sets of hands to manoeuvre the anchor. When we had plenty of sea room we locked the steering wheel and set about resecuring the anchor to the chain and then put it back in place.

The only decision now is where to anchor.

We did not want to be anywhere near the Tardis II. We pick our spot, closer to one of the prawning trawlers. Drop anchor. Let it grab. Damn we drifted back too far. I could not really see how much chain we had out in the dark. I grab my head torch off Marty, raise the anchor and we try again. Bingo… Got it this time. We dropped thirty meters of chain.

What a night, we make a cup of tea and sit for a bit. Until our weariness took over. Time to go to bed. We’re both covered in mud. My gorgeous silk dress… covered. I soak my dress, to wash it properly in the morning. It is time for a shower.

We were not looking forward to seeing what damage had been done to our boat.

In the morning, I get up and step over on to the swim board and have a look. The side of the hull, near the fishing rod is grazed. It will probably polish out. The anchor left a small gouge in the forward hull which probably won’t polish out.

We learn the next day from speaking to other’s here that this is a common problem. The owner of the Tardis II apparently lives on another boat in the area and is an unpleasant character. On each of his boats he puts out about 50 to 60 meters of chain. Which means his boats will drift on their chains great distances. We are not the first boat to have had our anchor chain caught up. Apparently, he does not care.

Furthermore,

We learnt that in the 2011 floods, many boats attempted to take shelter in this bend in the river. However, a few of them snapped their anchor chains here and there are a lot of chains and anchors at the bottom of the river in this bend. I am sure there is money that could be made if anyone wanted to pull them up.

With each crazy mishap and adventure, I love the feeling of overcoming the challenge. I am also becoming more impatient for our trip to NZ to start.

Love our crazy life.

Will add photos later. It is too depressing to take the photos of the damage.

Originally published on Facebook on 28/12/21.

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Under pressure rip-cord.

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After watching this magic sunset we were no longer under pressure

I have always thrived, and on the odd occasion coped, under pressure. I have always managed to get what needs to be done, done. The last four months have been the most intense period for many years. It has been the same for Martin Lloyd.

Que music, David Bowie singing “Under Pressure”

Zac Chillaxing, so not under pressure
Zac chillaxing

Between emptying the house and moving onto the boat, maintaining full time workload along with settling three animals onboard, it has been a little hectic. Fortunately, the animals settled almost immediately. I think it took me longer to stop observing and being concerned about them settling into to their new life than they did.

Zac seems to think the boat is the biggest cubby house ever. Moo and Nitro are just happy to be with us wherever we are.

We are into our third month on the boat and I had the opportunity with my workload to take a two-week break. I jumped on it not realising how long I had been under pressure and much I needed it. I thought I would write and get a few tasks done around the boat. Sitting on top of the “I thought I would” list was to publish a post I wrote a few weeks ago and write at least another, along with finishing installing the safety netting. Two weeks later, they are still on top of the list. In reality, I did very little.

I did do a lot of paddling, reading, sleeping and reflecting on what is important in life.

Paddling into the marina at sunset

Most mornings I went for a paddle with the dogs. Some mornings our neighbour Daniel Cooke and his dog Charlie joined us. I did a couple of sunset paddles. Martin joined me for one. It was magic.

I finished one book and started another. Both were about peoples journey. The first “By Way of the Wind” (By Jim Moore) is about a couple who had very little sailing experience, yet they sailed around the world. Martin and I have a lot to learn. The second is called “Pig” by Helen Browning, which takes us through tales of an organic farm, the relationships with their farm animals, nature and life itself. It is very interesting as they transition their farm towards alternative food sources.

I slept a lot… read, snoozed, read, repeated… I think I am starting to get the hang of this break!

Fade David Bowie.
Que Pink Floyd singing “Shine on your crazy Diamond”

I spent 2 days with my sister and collectively we said goodbye to a friend who passed away in the height of COVID. Her family planned for and hoped to be able to celebrate her life on what would have been her 57 birthday. When we heard the Queensland Government COVID changes the week before, I thought the plans would have to be put on hold again and I shed a tear. However, we learnt her wake could go ahead as it was at a venue with appropriate a COVID plan. Such relief. And so, we celebrated a life of our beautiful angel and Dancing Queen, Therese.

I spent the evening before the wake with a girlfriend and her 6-week old baby and playing with her 3 year old. Celebrating new life. Such precious times. They grow so quickly. My girlfriend ask what do I miss from living on land. My reply was simple, a cup of tea in bed. We have no bedside tables. We laughed, she does not have bedside tables either. Although I suspect two kids would prevent regular cups of tea in bed. That night, as I went to sleep I missed the gentle rocking of the boat.

I took time out just to hang with my sister and the following day we did girlie things. I raided her wardrobe trying on clothes for about 3 hours and then we both settled down and chilled.

Camp fire on the beach

To wrap up the two-week break Martin (also under pressure) escaped work and took Friday off. We slipped the lines of our berth at Gold Coast City Marina and headed north through the Boardwater up to Millionaires Row, dropped the anchor and chilled for two nights. On the second night we jumped in the dinghy for a sunset beach walk and got as far as a campfire and talked with a family who like us were enjoying a perfect sunset and a weekend sailing. It was lovely to see grandparents, parents, the two kids and their dog enjoying this life. And again the pull to head to New Zealand is getting ever stronger to be with our girls and grandchildren.

Fade Pink Floyd
Que Little River Band singing “Cool change”

If there’s one thing in my life that’s missing
It’s the time that I spend alone
Sailing on the cool and bright clear water…

#SailingSaboteur #Whatareyouwaitingfor #Liveyourlife #Getoutdoors #TandMadventures #Catsonboard #Dogsonboard #ZacAdventures #Wearsunscreen #Ilovesailing

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Still learning…

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Captain Marty at the helm

The night is peaceful and calm. Martin has had a busy day readying the boat for tomorrow’s sail. We have set ourselves a goal of going sailing every second weekend. After all we are still learning. As we ready, my mind reflects back to our sail two weeks ago.

—

Sunday came and we awoke with excitement and a little trepidation, as we were going to not only put the sails through their paces, but it was the first time the three animals had been sailing. Time will tell how the animals will go. We (humans and animals both)are all learning and adjusting to life on board. Finally, we were able to turn our attention to the boat and putting her new sails through their paces.

We readied the boat. Put most extra items away down below. Everything needs a home. When you go on board someone’s you boat can immediately tell whether they regularly take it out by how many items they have to put away. For us the galley is typically always cleared and if anything, it is the clean dishes that need to be put away. Notwithstanding, the two sink design is set up so that the draining tray sits in the second larger sink and nothing could fall out if left there. It just might move around a little. The heads and the Nav station are tidied. Laptops and my iMac are the main things to put away. We have been gradually finding homes for things.

We forgot to go through the “IF WOBBLE” check list before we depart
(apologies to Elliot our International Day skipper instructor).

Easy mistake for an absolute beginner but also easy for us to say it should all be working as, after all everything is brand new. And we are still learning.

I = Isolate. (Disconnect shore power and stow the power cable properly, check there are no lines [ropes] on the water)
F = Fuel (check you have sufficient fuel for the journey)

Now the above is all pretty obvious, and I got that. The following will make sense, however on a boat you need to be across all of these and check them every time. As I said I am still learning. My training was back in July 2019 in the beautiful Whitsundays. It has been a year now and we are finally at a point where we can do these checks on our boat before sailing. And it has been 6 months since we did our engine maintenance course. Confession: I have had to look some of this up to write this post. I don’t mind as it helps my learning and remembering…

All the while I have David Bowies words in my head – Absolute Beginners.

W = Water
Check that the cock allowing seawater to the heat exchanger is open. Then after the engine has started, check the cooling water from the exhaust and for 30 seconds afterwards.

O = Oil
You would check it the same way you would in your car, just got to remember where it is on our engine. We have a new engine if you recall.

B = Belt
Again, just like your car. I need to learn what the right tension feels like, and for that matter how to change an engine belt.

We are half way there now. Still learning…
It is kind of funny to be learning the obvious.

B = Bilge
Here we are meant to lift a few floorboards to check for water in the hull, just in case the automatic bilge pumps are not working.

L = Leaks
I assume here we check for leaks anywhere in the engine, any pipe connections etc. In theory we should be pretty good in this space as all our pipes are new as well.

E = Electrics & Exhaust
Here we turn on the electrics, our navigation, our depth finder and wind instruments, radio and switch to the local channel where they regularly report the weather conditions and any incidents to avoid etc. As well as the engine exhaust extraction pump, otherwise the boat will be full of engine fumes.

As I said we pretty much forgot to run through this check list but ended up somehow doing the obvious ones, disconnect the power slip the lines, turn on the engine exhaust pump etc.

Our neighbours come on board with a fresh brew of coffee. It smells amazing and we are happy to be sharing this trip with Daniel Cooke and Sarah Schwaner. With fresh coffee and enthusiasm, we slipped our lines and Martin beautifully guided Saboteur off the finger allowing the tide to gently drift Saboteur out of our pen . He turned her to head out of the marina and we commenced our trip along the Coomera river towards the Southport Seaway though the Southport bar into open ocean. (and back again).

We had two goals; to test the new mainsail and staysail, including our ability to raise and lower the Main from our new LeisureFurl boom.
And also to test the animals and see what their sea legs are like.

In the morning I gave all three of them a very small dose of an anti-anxiety drug provided to me by the vet. It worked a treat on the cat; however I am not sure it affected on the dogs.

The cat was locked in our bedroom and his litter tray was handy in the ensuite. While he did not like the loud engine noise, we had no complaints from him about being locked in the bedroom. And more importantly he did not throw up. I checked in on him a few times and he spent most of the day snoozing on our bed.

The dogs are always happiest when they are with us.

Tess sitting in the cock pit with Nitro (the dog)
Always by my side.

By with us I mean near us. The dogs started our journey below deck while we slipped the lines. While this was happening, they were sitting at the base of the companion way whingeing about not being in the cockpit where all the action was happening. As soon as we were underway, they joined us in the cockpit with their life jackets on, clipped on to their leads that was strapped to the safety line. They have been trained to sit were we tell them to. Most of the time they followed this order. When they stray they usually return to their spot on instruction. They were once again happy. We put them below when we crossed the bar and brought them back to the cockpit again when we were in the open water. Like Zac, the dogs did not throw up. This made us both relieved.

As we headed to towards the Southport Bar, I went below and radioed into the Gold Coast Seaway coast guard our intentions for the day.

Confession time again, I truly could not remember what I was meant to do and say, and even though Martin reminded me before I disappeared down the companion way, it was like my nerves had erased my memory.

I grabbed my training book and I kid you not, it fell open on the page I needed. Then, I had to work out how to slide the hand piece of the radio, press the button and remember to say over.

I had to turn down the volume of the radio as it had been loud so we could hear it with the wind and background noise etc.

“Coastguard, Coastguard This is SV (Sailing vessel) Saboteur” (I forgot to say over). “SV can you repeat”. “Coastguard Coastguard This is SV Saboteur Over”. “Saboteur can you turn to Channel 73 please”. In my mind, ahhh which dials do I turn…I find it and rush past the channel and back again. And so, I find Channel 73. “Coastguard this is SV Saboteur Over…”

With that we exchange the required details, Vessel, plan, number of people (I leave off the 3 animals), mobile phone and they wish us a fun sail. I go back upstairs.

The bar crossing was not too bad.

I have had plenty worse and so we found ourselves out in the open water of the Coral Sea for the first time. We are used to sailing in Moreton Bay with a collection of islands to pick from for our destination. Beyond heading east and testing our sails we had not really decided what our plans where.

We had followed another sail-boat across the bar. It appeared to be a training boat as it had about 10 or 12 people on it. We watched them hoist their sails and see them flap aimlessly due to the absence of wind. Where was the forecast 5 to 10 knots? In the absence of wind we had the engine gently purring while we bounced around in the ocean swell; this was uncomfortable.

Surprisingly, we were queasy…

We being Martin, Sarah and myself. This was a first for me (other than with my brother-in-law’s driving that is). I have been in rough seas with 80% of the passengers throwing up. I was kind of disappointed to be queasy. Not of the disheartening variety, but disappointing, nevertheless.

Not to be deterred, we raised our new mainsail. It was beautiful (and easy). And despite the 2m swell and our queasiness, we congratulated ourselves on the investment we made for the boom furling mainsail. We wanted to make sailing easy for our bodies as we gracefully age. OK I am talking about me now ha, ha… Our friend Dan was super impressed with how easy raising our mainsail was. And so we rolled in the swell for a bit waiting for any skerrick of breeze, but there was none to have. Captain Marty decided to head back in. With Skipper Dan at the wheel we headed back towards the bar. I popped below deck and called in to the coast guard to tell them of our pending return and went back upstairs.

Our disappointment did not last long.

Dan at the helm and Martin talking
Back inside the bar we could relax

Back inside the bar our queasiness started to lift. It did not go away… It lingered for a while. Pleasantly surprising, we got some light breeze and we were able unfurl the inner staysail. She looked wonderful. Then before we knew it, we were at the mouth of the Coomera river and heading back to our marina. The setting sun was beautiful, conversation was easy. Sarah and Dan were the perfect friends to have on board. Dan’s experience and Sarah’s eye for beauty and her enthusiasm for life balanced our nervousness about our own adventures… Each time we aim to test something we practically hold our breath as we wait to see if it was a sound investment (or not). And so we furled our staysail as we turned into the Coomera river. And I could feel my breathing return.

I enjoyed the contentment that came with being happy. And I was. From here there were so many magic moments. Sarah grabbing her camera and taking photos of the wallabies on the edge of the Coomera river, moments of touch and connection as we relaxed while the afternoon passed behind us.

We were approaching the marina and Martin took over the helm. If you recall the last attempt to dock was very stressful. Today the weather conditions were totally different, perfectly calm, and a little breeze.

We approach the finger and Martin picked his spot to turn. He nailed it and docked perfectly so we could easily step off and tie off our lines.

We celebrated with a couple of drinks.

Sarah and I disappeared for a second sunset paddle.

We enjoyed an awesome dinner.

—

And so as I tell the tale of our last sailing adventures it is now Friday evening. We had a lovely dinner with our friend Bill Fuller. He has just left and Martin has gone to bed. It has just gone 10pm. Zac wants to go for his evening walk. The dogs are sitting beside me snoozing. I have just finished my cuppa; the marina is very still. And everything feels right, just right.

Tomorrow we are going sailing.

#Ilovesailing #whatareyouwaitingfor #liveyourlife #Tandmadventures #Zacadventures #Petsonboard #Catsonboard #Dogsonboard #wearsunscreen #slipslopslap

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Living & learning as an absolute beginner!

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Sunset paddle

Queue music: David Bowie, Absolute Beginner

Martin Lloyd and I spent the weekend before last embracing the fun and folly of our youth (you can stop laughing right now) and our decision to go live-aboard. I felt so alive, energised and happy. I navigated the weekend and its experiences as an absolute beginner, as I undertook new challenges and the learnings that went with them and the laughs that went with our activities.

It is a stark contrast to the midweek funk I found myself in. You know what I mean. Hump day and all. Only this time it was extreme. I was seriously lacking motivation and struggling to focus. Familiarity (work stuff) leading to boredom. I was going crazy. Perhaps I was suffering from a lack of people contact which I find energising. Just maybe it is a combination of both. And this coming weekend it is forecast to rain (and it did). However, I have shaken the mid-week funk off.

Get me out of here I want to go sailing!!!

Let me take you back. We survived the pain and fatigue of downsizing. We are settling into a new kind of normal that comes with finding our new local supermarket, vet (found that already thank you Moo), pharmacy and the like. Not to mention where to go for our curry fix. And even more importantly, settling Zac (the cat), Moo and Nitro (dogs) into their new life on the boat and managing comfort stops. No longer can I just open the door and let them outside. I physically have to lift the dogs up the companion way (steps) into the cockpit. From here they gladly jump over the cockpit seats and wait politely, despite sometimes being desperate on the side of the boat for me to then get down and lift them onto the finger.

While part of me would be grateful if they could jump down themselves, I am grateful that they are not inclined to as I feel reasonably confident that they will still be on the deck when I return. When we are on land, I have to keep an eye on them as they explore, often heading in different directions. And as for Moo, we have just learned he can walk straight between the bars of the fence to the road. So the fence is merely a boundary suggestion. So far, escape activities are Moo twice and Zac once. Fortunately, they were both playful and not running away from a life aboard.

Last weekend was booked solid.

Friday came and I wanted to shout, “Hello weekend”.

Hello weekend image with text

It felt brilliant. I kicked off the weekend with a Friday sunset paddle up the creek with my neighbour Daniel Cooke in our kayaks. We were accompanied by his dog Charlie and our two dogs Moo and Nitro. It was magic, my spirits soared as each stroke weaved us through stunning vistas and the glow of the setting sun presenting an ever-changing backdrop.

Me and the dogs heading out on an adventure
Off we go

Paddling on my kayak (a happy trade off to my surf ski and purchased to carry the dogs easily) is very different to paddling my surf ski. It is a different style, each stoke needs to be more casual, laid back and chilled. I tried to model my stroke off Dan’s. He appears to be the chill master. I had to remind myself to sit back and drop my shoulders rather than the slight lean forward and reaching for the longer stroke required to maximise the power I would normally seek to feel the surf ski glide efficiently though the water. The kayak offers no such efficiencies. The creek gently reminds me that there is no sense of pace required that comes with paddling the surf ski.

The creek is quiet. The birds are singing.
It’s serene.

Dan points out the birds, and he can identify the various types. Me, I’m an absolute beginner. I recall my mother being able to identity every bird in the garden. I packed an Australian bird book which has not found its way to the surface with our unpacking yet. Dan even spotted wallabies.

Absolute beginner at sunset paddles

The sunset was amazing, the peace that came with it led to a beautiful evening of great food, wine and company. My muscles felt the joy and warmth of a nice work out.

Saturday, we had hoped to put the boat through her paces, however the wind was stronger than what we had wanted for our planned activities so we rescheduled our sail for Sunday.

We looked for things to do on Saturday.
What evolved lead to a comedy of events.

We decided to put the dinghy tender in the water. Until now it had been on its trailer outside the shed. The lads decided to carry the dinghy to the water. This required wheeling the trailer to the closest point to the gangway (ramp to the finger). The lads lifted it off the trailer, rotated it to be vertical. Dan grabbed a small trolley. We put the edge of the dinghy on the trolley up on its side, then they moved it between the path’s hedges leading on to the gangway. The trolley started to slip sideways so I put my foot on the trolley to arrest this sideways movement, at that point my shoe got dosed in water and my foot slipped out of my shoe, now firmly wedged between the dinghy air-rib and the trolley.

I watched as the boys wheeled / carried the dinghy (and my shoe) down the gangway to the water’s edge. I wondered would the trolley end up in the water along with my shoe. It did not matter if the dinghy ended up in the water. Controlled or uncontrolled that was, after all, its destination. However, the boys did a brilliant job of controlling the dinghy down the gangway and lowering it in the water.

And that is when the real entertainment began.

I jumped in the dinghy to hold it against the finger while the guys lowered the engine on to the transom. I secured it by tightening the clamps. Once the engine was secured Martin said, OK you’re in the dinghy you can take it around to the other side of Saboteur. Ha, ha… I did not know how to start it nor steer a tiller / throttle combo. this was going to funny… besides, I had to navigate between our boat and our neighbours boat without damaging either. Not that that was possible as our dinghy has an inflatable tube (other wise known as a rib) around its gunwales offering insurance to every vessel but my fragile ego. In case you missed the point, our neighbour was watching.

But first, I had to get the 2.5 horsepower outboard started.

I tried to follow instructions. Attach the safety kill switch, pull the choke out, open the fuel cap breather (a little not too much) to allow air into the fuel tank. Why, I don’t know. I have probably forgotten something or got the order wrong but hey… And then I have to pull the cord. Much like a lawn mower. You get the idea. About 6 attempts later… Again I am shown, this time I am guided to pull the cord back slowly and feel it take the tension, then allow it to slide back in and then pull evenly through the tension point – easier said than done.

Martin does it perfectly… beauty, I am off… But before I could get myself taught lesson on a tiller and a throttle underway, Martin kills it so I can start it… Really, I was ok with his success… I try again, again and again. It took about another ten attempts before I got the outboard started. Now to work out how to use the tiller and throttle. And so, accompanied by a squeal (me) and three dogs, I wobble away from the finger turn the corner and practically bounced between our boat and our neighbours boat. Our neighbour is still watching. At which point Martin says I need to go out into the marina and play.

I need to master this damn fandangled thing called a dinghy.
It is, after all, a safety device.

And so I cautiously venture out from between the two boats, edging forward in search of my confidence.

I am sure it is sitting on the marina waiting for me to return.

Funny how I am comfortable in a big boat, but even this small one is a totally different thing.

GCCM a great place for an absolute beginner to learn to her dinghy skills.
A fun place to play

And so I ventured forth and went in and out of some pens, I headed towards the Moor and Store (They store boats here and lower them in the water for the their owners when they want to use them) and then decided this was not a good idea. What if someone’s boat was going to be lowered in the water, or someone else was to put their boat in at the boat ramp. Imagine that. I would have to navigate traffic and so I turned and headed towards the other side of the marina. Less traffic and more open space.

The dogs were fine. They seemed to enjoy the ride. They were sitting up front balancing the boat nicely. Then Charlie a 10 kilo Cavalier King Charles Poodle cross wanted to come closer to me followed by my dogs.

Charlie was sitting on the centre seat, and I cannot blame him.
It is a seat, after all. However, it changed the centre of gravity and
my confidence.

I asked Charlie to move back to his original seat. I cannot remember what I said but he did it and my dogs followed suit. Relief, I was not sure how I would get Charlie out of the water if he fell in. In the Marina it would not be a problem as he could swim back to the boat. However, that is not the point. I can easily lift my dogs in.

And so I played in the marina and my confidence was a little buoyed. Not a lot. I knew I needed to practice and master this thing called a dinghy and outboard. And you can laugh… I have very little confidence yet. However much more confident in a larger boat. Then and there, I set myself a goal to go out every day for 21 days. Having made that decision, I returned to shore to reconnect with my confidence.

Some strange things were happening. I have my sea legs, well and truly, and every now and again when I get on land, I get the land wobbles. It is a thing you know.

And armed with my 21 days plan I was happy.

The outboard that is causing havoc for this absolute beginner
Yet to be mastered

However, over the next two days I learnt the bung was leaking. The dinghy was filling with water. And so, Monday morning Dan took the outboard off our dinghy and secured it to it’s mounting plate on Saboteur.

My dinghy full of water.
Some bailing to be done

Dan checked out the local chandlery and Martin and I went in search on-line for a bung.

It is a special bung of which there are none in Australia. This is not good for a safety device. We ordered a new one on-line and are waiting delivery. And so my 21 day challenge is on hold.

More fun to be had…

More lessons to be learnt for this truly absolute beginner…

At least David Bowies singing “Absolute Beginner” buoys my soul as I test myself…

OK, you racer boys out there with ridiculous amounts of horsepower of your back wheel can stop laughing some time soon.

#Ilovesailing #whatareyouwaitingfor #liveyourlife #wearsunscreen #TandMadventures #Dinghyadventures

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