… hello again South Africa. Apologies for the radio silence but our return to England, although brief, was a busy one. No time for computer duties, just a whirlwind dash to see some very special people (you know who you are m’wonderful dears) – and some galloping garden maintenance. Also, a few last minute financial arrangements, and a little shopping for a few select items we can’t seem to track down here in SA. (God bless John Lewis plc). But it was Dick who played the hero (again) getting busy from dawn to dusk for a couple of days with an unwieldy industrial-sized hedge-trimmer. Leaving your erstwhile nest during the last throws of Spring is not a wise idea: Mother Nature doesn’t give a fig that you won’t be there to tidy up after her annual burst of lush exuberance and charges blithely on, popping buds and shooting stems, leaves and boughs with gleeful wantonness. And long may she continue with her Spring frenzy – but living on a boat, well, we don’t want to appear ungrateful, but soon it’ll be nice to be enraptured spectators only, rather than active stewards of all that verdant joie de vie. It’s no wonder our old garden needed a savage haircut – it had been delightfully hot and sunny for a spell (we’ told), to be followed by some dramatic PPPs (pissy persistent precipitations) that fell from glowering clouds during our stay. And oh, what soggy PPPs they were! We swear the repeated deluges that bucketed down for much of this week just gone, were of the very wettest variety there are. Yet saying goodbyes to beloved sons in dreary torrential rain is somehow right. A befitting backdrop to the emotional wrench of parting. That beloved sons were probably secretly relieved to have their mater and pater go, and be free of the reminders of things to do now, things to be done later, and things not to do – now, later, or ever at all – didn’t matter. And that both boys – at 21and 22 years old, should that be men? – are quite able to fend for themselves and more than happy to do so, doesn’t matter either. To a devoted mother, saying goodbye to her darling children (however grown and whiskery they have become ) should be a matter of misty-eyed misery to be enjoyed to the full … and accompanied by all the rain the heavens can hurtle! So, we arrived at Terminal 5 Heathrow with the wet stuff still pouring from the English skies, and after a hassle-free flight arrived in Durban to find it basking in glorious rich sunshine. Hallooo! Hooray! The sort of sunshine that warms you to the bone and gently jollies your mood until you can’t help but just grin. An African autumn bestows some of the kindest climatic conditions there are. The sun has lost its summer ferocity – becoming a benign butter ball that smiles on all, easing travel-weary limbs and immediately instilling a profound sense of well-being. By contrast, our fleeting return to Blighty was a sharp reminder of how fragmented and sporadic an English summer is. In short: it was good to be back here. Gideon’s little bombettes he kindly gave us to help us sleep on the overnight flight worked like a charm, and although a little grubby and creased, we couldn’t wait to load up the hire car and head straight from the airport to Durban Marina, to see a certain little lady. Butterfly! What a pretty sight she is! We fair ran up the pontoon to greet her – and seeing her gleaming away in the gentle sunshine, water reflections dancing on her hulls, she almost sparkled. Ken has found a cleaning product – the name? – darn it, have forgotten, but will report back later with details – that has banished all the stains, grotty splodges, dirty footprints, oil splashes etc that had accumulated while she was stuck aloft on the trailer at the port, and she’s looking foxy fresh once more. Even the anti-slip has smartened up beautifully. As for progress, well, at last she sports an elegantly sway-back mast and rigging. This was fitted a week ago, while we were away. We so wanted to witness that addition – and to see her lifted and lowered into the water, it was a great pity we were so far away. A baptism that Ken and Steven have captured on video, thankfully, so we can at least view the momentous event on celluloid – well, ok – digitally, then. Apparently, the new prop had been easy to fit and the journey from the port to her current berth in the marina, a smooth one. Darn it – sooo wish we could have been there! Speaking to Steven a little later yesterday, he was still excited by how well it had all gone – great news to return to, that’s for sure. Tomorrow, we’ll pop down to the marina again and I’ll take my camera this time. (It was all packed up yesterday in with our luggage, so no pics today of Butterfly afloat). Though she’s not quite so easy to photograph full length now she’s in the marina, but I’m sure we can still get some decent shots of her – clean, masted and in her natural environment – the sea! Anyway, have chortled quite enough, but thank you all for your patience. From today consider this blog resume-ed and it will stay resumed – just so long as Lena and Jack’s occasionally limping Internet connection allows!
More everything to follow …
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