… without smashing eggs. Calling in at the boat this morning to see how she’s coming along, decided to take a selection of shots to show you how things progress inside. Outside she’s a smart girl; inside, a little less so at the moment. There’s a huge amount of electrical work involved, but Ken and his team are soldiering on making a very neat job of it (despite the cramped chaos of their surroundings). What you can’t see here are some of the other guys working quietly away in the hulls, and another, bless him, squashed up in the very back of the boat behind the engine compartment – where it’s hot, stuffy and airless- diligently sanding away: a noisy, dusty and uncomfortable experience which he bears with cheerful good grace; by contrast, the guys who seem to spend most of their time outside definitely have the cushier conditions, especially Paul, who always seems to be fishing when we arrive!
Not wanting to hang around too long and just get in the way, we headed off for CrocWorld. What a strange experience! It’s absolutely crawling in crocs alright (and birds of exotic hue – and a pair of the most charming and endearing Meerkats who seemed desperate for us to adopt them) but we virtually had the place to ourselves. Something almost eerie about it. Apart from the occasional shrieks of squabbling birds, and a very heated flamingo altercation, all you could hear was the wind rustling the grasses, fanning the heat. The stars of the show weren’t much taken with their audience. Sly-eyed and snaggle-toothed, crocs of every size lay like elderly, leathery sun-baskers – snoozing in the African sunshine, studiedly indifferent to my camera being shoved as close to their snouts as I could get it … on the safe side of a protective wire fence, of course.
We left them to their somnulant sunworship and headed off for Scottburgh beaches. With the passing of the afternoon a vigorous breeze had arisen, and down near the waves a welcome overdose of ozone sent us clambering over the rocks with gusto. What is it about a lively sea-breeze and late afternoon sun that’s just so – well, ooomphy! Like being a kid again. Voices whipped away, hats lifting, tripping along over the sand – picking up shells and crab claws whitened in the salty sun – why, it’s just so much fun. Back home, we’ve always had a yen for walking by the water, by boats and marinas and by the sea – especially when there’s a good blow. Here in South Africa, we’re lucky to be spoilt with a coastline that provides blow and water a-plenty. Huzzah – what luck to find ourselves in our rightful element!
Tomorrow we must pack up ready to return to England on Wednesday for a very short spell. We’ve already brought most of our things out here – some with us this last trip; some still sitting in a container on route to Durban – but now we think we may have to take some stuff back! The boat is big, but not that big, and do I really need two extra pairs of heels? Dick, of course, will take about 30 minutes to decide what stays, what goes, and finish packing. Me? Well, I shall need at least a couple of hours – and then after a break, start unpacking that which is packed and packing that which is un. And so it goes …
Much else to do tomorrow, too (besides mess about with packing that is), so this blog, so soon started, may stall for a while. Back in England, we have a family wedding to attend (are you getting nervous, Jo?!) – and a couple of very beloved sons (BJ, Al – put that kettle on, kids!) to spend time with and catch up on all their doings. We only have these forthcoming few days with them before we return to Durban and won’t be seeing them again until much later in the year – on board Butterfly, definitely; somewhere exotic, perhaps. So if you’ve a mind to, check back here and join us once we return. Despite the newness of this blog, we’re surprised and delighted by how many of you are already keeping us company – it’s been completely unexpected – so thank you!
Bye for now, folks.
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