… wait for no man. Trouble is man must wait for the bloody internet before he – or in this case, she – can file a new post to our Butterfly blog. All sorts of cyber gremlins, it seems, bedevil us in the evenings – and on Sundays. Or anytime we are free to write a little something. Mornings, when we’re dashing to be off and out, everything internetty works just fine. Heigh ho.
(Btw – that’s Dick (left) and Neil (right) aboard the Maxim catamaran, Yilanga.)
So – playing catch-up then after a (briefish) spell of radio silence. But first our apologies, today has been a long (albeit very enjoyable) one – but rather ker-nackering, so will keep this very short. Hope, therefore, you’ll forgive the bullet-point approach.
Friday 20th June:
Sailing in and around marina/port with James and Neil. Paddy, who joined the day before, didn’t show. We think his absence had something to do with the previous day’s ”vigorous’ close-hauled tacking stint. A bit of a wild ride for those who have never sailed at all before. Alan turned up, but worryingly had to leave very suddenly – after a SOS from his wife. They live in Zimbabwe and with the imminent election, things have become very frightening indeed. It’s clear none of the newspapers and tv stations here or at home are reporting anything like the true extent of the horrors of the situation. We wish Alan and his family all the best and are keeping our fingers firmly crossed for them.
Saturday 21st June:
Out on the water bright and early with James and Colin. It’s James’s assessment for his Day Skipper ticket. Dick and I acting as crew. A great morning – albeit a bit of a stressful one for James, who was put through his paces in no uncertain way. Seems to us that some things are taken a little bit more seriously, perhaps, than back in Blighty, but no complaints. A lso, Durban is a busy port and not the easiest setting for such things – and there is no margin for errors. But the weather was generously kind and behaved itself impeccably. So did the darned sea, for once. And hooray – James got his ticket and so mission accomplished.
Sunday 22nd June:
Day of rest. It needed to be – it’s been a hectic and lively fortnight. But come the evening and we ventured down into Durban (which always fills me with trepidation – particularly at night) to meet James and Roz for a meal by the waterside. Driving down through the hills, we suddenly saw lightning crack and blaze across the sky. And almost immediately a phone-call from Roz warning us not to meet them by their boat – because torrential rain was now bucketing down in earnest. By the time we reached the city centre, manhole covers were popping and geysers of bubbling rainwater were gushing back up on to the road. The sound was deafening. The cause? One of the infamous coastal lows that barrel around down the west coast, across the tip, and back up the eastern side. Two hours later and after all the drama, it had rained itself out. But the marina waters are now filled with tons of floating garbage and grot washed down from the city’s drains. That there are still fish in that marina – still wriggling and flapping their fins – is both a wonder and a mystery. Lovely meal with James and Roz – lots of laughter, and much fun – and a relaxing ride home, since rather conveniently, the deluge was likely to have kept the car-hijackers and Durban’s other ne’er-do-wells indoors.
Monday 23rd June:
A wowza of a day. 9.a.m. and out all day with Neil on a Maxim 38. It’s been approximately two years since we last sailed on a cat for any length of time. (Although we had a fun weekend with Frank and Martha last November in Madeira – hello you guys!) Again, today the weather oh-so-kind: the perfect sailing variety. After the narrow, tippy confines of the L34, the Maxim seemed huge (and almost staid – no clinging on) – and yet she’s almost 7ft shorter than Butterfly. Very much like a truncated – or rather, compact – Voyage, same feel and layout. Same stern-to-bows walkways, too – a little too narrow and slippy for our liking, and same obstacle course trying to get to the winches, but for all that, she’s generally well-regarded. Had forgotten just how easy cats are to sail – and to manoeuver. And after the previous two week’s of laboriously flaking mainsails and hanking on jibs and all the faff of folding genoas and jibs a certain way, before stowing in their bags – the ease of a stackpack and lazy jack system and roller furling were very, very welcome. That said, the L34 was a lot of fun and very good for honing the more traditional sailing skills.
For our Day Skipper Practical tickets, we needed a night entry back into port, so we sailed along the coast, watching the sun sink pinkly behind a small cluster of clouds. And inevitably, as the sun sank, so the night wind began to blow a little keener. Coming in behind a huge container ship, following the leading lights and lateral markers, all twinkling merrily away in the encroaching blackness, we suddenly realised how tired we were. Again, it’s that bone-weary but very relaxed tiredness that comes from being out in the sun and salt air all day. A few bevvies in the yacht club bar after putting the boat to bed and home to a huge pot of chicken one-pot.
A long day, but a real good ‘un.
And would you believe it, but just as I typed that last line, the darned internet connection has gone west again. Buggeroo. N’er mind. Will save this in Word and zap up here tomorrow first thing, before we leave for the marina.
G’night gentle people.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzz ….
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