Y’know, I never thought …

… I’d spend my 54^th Christmas Eve and Boxing Day crawling over a boat, on hands and knees, with my head inside a cupboard madly mopping up leaks. But then after everything that’s gone before, it didn’t come as much of a surprise, either. More of those leaks later and back to Christmas 2008: for us it has been one of the strangest ever. Not all of it bad, I hasten to add, not by a long shot – and most of it very, very enjoyable. But weird – definitely weird.

For a start, with all our focus on moving aboard Butterfly – December 19^th was our first night aboard – Christmas, for us, came and went with barely a jingle to distract. Not for us the usual frantic Christmas shopping, nor the stockpiling of festive food, no sending of cards; no trinkets for the Xmas tree and no tips for paperboys and dustbin men nor changing channels to escape the inevitable tired old TV repeats of The Great Escape and Only Fools and Horses. All that ding-dong-merrily-on-high-Santa-festooned-fake-snow-and-tinsel rigmarole now belongs strictly to the past, to our old life – at least for the next few years. Equally strange has been the wacky weather: here in Durban, it’s been so joyfully unseasonal for us Limeys as to be quite unreal: by turns, scorchingly sunny, sweatingly humid, wildly windy and tropically thundery. And sometimes all of those in the same day. Not the stuff of English heavens in late December, that’s for sure.

The only concession to normality was Christmas Day itself, when Mike and Lyn fed and watered us in fine style along with many of their kith and kin, out at their holiday home in Munster. But then their kindness and friendship have been wonderful throughout our stay in Durban, and we’ll miss them horribly when we leave SA.

For the rest of this Christmas period, it has been all things boaty. And generally, the process of turning Butterfly into a home has made it a satisfying time. With moving aboard, we at last have the gathering sense that the adventure we’ve been waiting and planning for so long is at last upon us, making us even more anxious to just get on with it. But it appears we must still be patient. Even after these eight long months we’ve been waiting for AfricanCats to finish the boat, there are still flies in the Butterfly ointment that need swatting. For example, within hours of moving aboard we discovered not one, but four leaks. Yes, four – and all but one of them due to poor connections- humble jubilee clips not properly tightened. Silly little nuisances and simple to fix, of course, but not that simple finding the origin of each leak. For, as is the way of things, the escaping water showed up some distance from the source. At one crazy point, about 11pm on Christmas Eve, tired and grubby and frazzled by finding little lakes here, and dribbles there, we were frantically mopping up one puddle in the starboard hull, when I popped upstairs to the galley to run the tap to help empty the tank – only to find the galley floor and cupboards now themselves awash. The cause? Yet another faulty jubilee connection between pipe and tap fitting that gushed only when the pipe was at certain angles. I’d found a puddle under the sink within minutes of moving aboard, which I’d mopped up immediately hoping it was nothing serious – but now at least I knew where it had come from. The fourth leak, however, turned out not to be a plumbing problem, but a faulty water tank lid. It just doesn’t seal, full stop, and needs replacing. But still, to paraphrase Oscar Wilde (wildly), “to hand over a boat to a customer with one leak is unfortunate; to hand over a boat with four leaks looks like carelessness.” Surely somebody from AfricanCats must have spotted and known about these issues? They weren’t exactly hard to find and it was clear most had been leaking for some time. Also waiting to greet us, a few other problems too:

• A big buggeroo this – the fridge/freezer in the galley area doesn’t work. The power is there, the compressor compresses, but not a single degree of chill is to be had anywhere. Gas loss, perhaps? Dunno. But we can’t leave Durban until it’s resolved that is for sure. Frank, who bought Hull No 3, African SeaWing (you’ll find the English translation helpfully beneath the Belgian version on each post) –  has also had his fair share of problems with this model of fridge/freezer – though we believe this was due to the anodes being corroded away. But essentially he took delivery of the boat without it working, and it took him a year to get it functional. Not unnaturally, we’re beginning to question the reliability of the model itself.

• The wind genny is also faulty – despite Steven’s assertion all is wired correctly. We’ve had some wild, wild wind this past week and although it whirs wonderfully, makes a lot of electricity too (hooray!), it doesn’t respond to the control panel in the nav station at all – in short, we can’t turn the damned thing off. This problem has only materialized since the mast foot was replaced and reconnection of wiring work effected. While we hope it is just a matter of re-thinking the wiring, there is the possibility that we may need a replacement genny. The manufacturers of the Airbreeze state quite clearly that if not wired in correctly, the genny’s electronics can be thoroughly buggered.

• The Mastervolt and Blue Sky unit are still at odds with their battery status readings. Something we’ve been whining (as opposed to whirring – boom, boom!) about for six or seven months, until lately, to no avail. The recent rewiring hasn’t cured it, so now we’re wondering what did get rewired???

• Cabin doors: to be blunt, they’re warped. Bend at the tops like a banana. In fact they bend away from their frames so much so you can get a full finger or two between the top of the frame and the top of the door, and it’s impossible to shut the starboard door at all from the outside. Also, the port cabin door has delaminated, pretty badly, all down the centre from top to bottom. The head doors are better, but we’re wondering if the flimsiness of the door is basically its undoing.

• Portside head: the blackwater pump is missing a valve so takes twice as long to remove the same amount of gunk/liquid as the starboard. The starboard pump, on the other hand, is a violent avaricious beastie that threatens to devour anything and anyone who stands before it, so thankfully no waste worries with that one!

• The dishwasher soap powder won’t dissolve. A weird one this.  The dishwasher has many programmes (far too many,  imho) but on one programme and one only does the soap powder dissolve. On all the other progs, it just sits in a soggy, sullen lump in its compartment, looking clumpy and belligerent. Not enough water? Water not hot enough? Water not directed properly? Haven’t a clue.  Considering this rather slim number cost a ridiculous sum, we’re not very  impressed, that’s for sure.

And – STOP PRESS – but we have just discovered our fifth leak tonight– in the wretched portside engine compartment, home to the infamous Leak of Leaks that caused so much hassle and expense and grief from the moment Butterfly went into the water. We can’t pinpoint where this latest leak is coming from – not yet, but we do know it isn’t engine coolant (which is blueish), and it isn’t very much, thank god. But it still shouldn’t be there, whatever it is or isn’t. Sooooo (big breath here and eyes rolling skywards), it’s back to bloody mopping up, talc-ing, and checking every day to see if it continues. Not a lot of joy when all your nice new, clean bedding is now sitting on top of that engine compartment. One glimmer of faint hope is that Dick then found yet another set of slightly loose jubilee clip connections in the rudder compartment behind that beleaguered engine compartment, together with a smear of oily water lying below the faulty joints. In other words, our leak just may be due to seepage from the water-cooled exhaust system. Personally, I don’t think this is likely, since the smear really was absolutely miniscule but it would be a very acceptable explanation right now. Another possibility is water flowing back in through the bilge outlets when sailing in choppy seas. The one-way valves of these thru-hull fittings have proved to be rather feeble to say the least. That said, we’ve only taken the boat out once since moving aboard (on Saturday), and it wasn’t that choppy at all, but it is strange this water has only appeared in recent days. The leak water was also very oily – possibly due to the water picking up some earlier spillage of gearbox oil when the saildrive was replaced during the most recent repairs on the hard. But, of course, all this is conjecture. All we do know is we’re just a teensy-weensy bit up to fecking ‘ere in finding yet more leaks.

• As for the watermaker and new windlass– we’ve still to test them, though Doug said the watermaker was ticketty-boo when we went out with Gideon, himself and Angelo Lavranos before Christmas. For ourselves, we’ve been too busy de-leaking, and organizing other stuff to put it to the test. But we’ll get both done well before Gideon’s team return to work on January 5^th to ensure they really are performing as they should.

So that’s the quibble factor dealt with. But it’s obvious we are going to be captive in Durban for a while longer while they get fixed. All these things could be put right speedily, we know that – but we also know from bitter experience just how l-o-n-g it takes in reality. So while we’re delighted now to be living on the boat, trying to keep the lid on an increasing Vesuvius of frustration is becoming a real mission. Moan over. So let’s move on to the good things.

• Firstly, we love living aboard Butterfly. She’s bright and airy and spacious and very comfortable and easy to move around. As mentioned before, she’s also a bit of a head-turner. A real bonny lassy. Surprises us (pleasantly) just how much interest and genuine compliments she gets from folk passing on the pontoon.

• The cabins are large and yet cosy – especially when the wind is blowing a hoolie outside and the rain is drumming as if it wants to come in.

• Ignoring the leaks inside (down to two, now: only one to be solved, the other easily remedied), she’s definitely a dry boat on the outside. Despite the torrential rainstorms we’ve had this past week – and it has bucketed down violently for hours at a stretch – not a drop has penetrated her defences. All hatches, portholes and doors appear to be reassuringly watertight.

• Ample storage space – almost too much storage space. We were seriously regretting lugging so many personal goodies aboard, together with so many extra warps and drogues and anchors and heck-knows-what-other-sailory-stuff. Well, the outside lockers are all full and being greedy, we would have liked a little more room in the forward lockers and in the cockpit, but inside, we have cupboard space to spare … well, just (mustn’t get too carried away here). But at least when we come to stock up for ocean-crossing passages, there should be plenty of food storage room available.

• The shower rooms – and showers – are a definite plus. The showerrooms are light, bright, airy and roomy and the showers are fulsome – too fulsome for the drains to cope with it seems. We have to turn the shower off for a spell to allow the water to flow away, before resuming. And with both porthole and hatch in that area, when moored, it’s possible to open both and so dry out the area nice and quickly. Although a couple of improvements would be to alter the level of the floor in these areas, since water pools in one corner and has to be sponged away – because it misses the draining sink altogether. A small point, but one that should be easily remedied on future boats.

• The galley is very well equipped and the hob and oven work well. But while Dick finds the height of the work-surface just dandy, I’ve had to buy a stool! At 5ft 5” (and a half), I’m just too short to be able to peer into the bottom of the pans when cooking; similarly stirring seems to involve elbows up around my shoulders while standing on tiptoes – which is uncomfortable and unnatural. But with my sturdy, standfast stool – problemo sorted. (I also need this stool for attending to the sailbag, and as a foot rest when helming. So, it was R50 well spent. Butterfly is definitely more man-portioned, than woman … unless that woman is more Amazonian in stature than I, of course.

• Night lights – safety lights: these are excellent and a lovely thoughtful touch. Gideon has not only placed them in the saloon to enhance night vision when doing night sailing, but also has them placed throughout the hulls at floor level.  Turned on at night for safety reasons, the red is kind to the eyes, soothing, but illuminates the floor very effectively. Of all the gizmos and gadgets aboard, these have perhaps tickled me the most … I love ‘em! I also like the reading lights – which come with the same red LED option. For tired eyes they make a wonderfully relaxing light – one that doesn’t disturb the poor beloved trying to sleep beside you.

Whoops, just seen the time: 12.30 a.m. More a little later …

A shiver of excitement …

… as the weather and pace hot up.

In less than 48 hours, we’ll make the transition from landlubbers to liveaboards. A moment we’ve been looking forward to forever it seems. (I think it was around the beginning of 2005 that the idea of buying a boat to live on first cropped up, so nearly four years of planning and waiting in all). Not surprisingly, these last few days have been fairly hectic getting ready for that moment, and because it’s all in aid of something we really want to do, it’s been a lot of fun, too. And now that we’ve started turning Butterfly from a work-in-progress (and occasionally a work-in-regress) to a home, our lists – we’ve lost track of how many we’ve had to draft trying to bring Butterfly to a happy and successful conclusion – well, these latest lists now include many boat-home essentials and niceties; a mighty pleasant change from the problem-solving To-Do and Have They Done? variety

And what is left to do? Well, we still need to test the watermaker and new windlass, but that will happen tomorrow. Our only outstanding cause for (mild) concern now, is the wind genny. Oh, it’s as quiet and efficient as ever – in fact it’s THE quietest we’ve ever heard, a definite success in that department, but whereas it was functioning perfectly, it now seems to whiz a little too enthusiastically when the control switch is turned to STOP. We’ve had a hard time persuading Steven that all might not be well – he’s still convinced everything is fine – but then he hasn’t been down to the boat recently, so hasn’t seen it misbehaving as we have. So we’ll check it out tomorrow when we go sailing and see what Gideon makes of it.

And speaking of tomorrow and sailing, it seems there’s a good chance that boat designer, Angelo Lavranos, will be joining us. Given that he (and Gideon) have designed the FastCat, we’re very much looking forward to having him aboard. It’ll be interesting to know what he thinks of Butterfly, being the latest Vector-K fruit of his labour.

After we return to the marina, the leather upholstery will be installed. We’ve already seen it, Terri is very kindly storing it for us, and  it’s a beautiful piece of work. Just got to keep fingers crossed Denise’s nimble fingers have made it to fit well enough. (Denise used to produce upholstery for BMW and now produces all of AfriCats Marine’s leatherwork).

Blown away by the kiaat wooden grids for the shower and bathroom floors – they’re even nicer than expected. Picked them up from Richard late Monday – bless him, he’d worked fast and furious to get them finished in time – and tried them on Butterfly on Tuesday. The effect really is gorgeous. Now all we have to do is attach some rubber feet here and there to support them, (since the floors they sit on are scooped to make for better drainage). Oh, and we’ll give them some TLC with several coats of oil. Ideally, I wanted to use Tung Oil, but can’t find a local supplier..Buggeroo. We’ve found a Cuprinol product that oils and waxes and preserves the natural colour of wood – so might go with that instead. But if you know a good reason not to, then please holler and let us know. Just to mention – Danish Oil is out because it darkens the wood over time, and so too is Linseed – same sort of reason. The colour of this kiaat is just glorious – so it would be a travesty to mess with it.

And that, for now, is that, m’hearties. A rash of other incidentals to report, but nothing that will make the front page, so best we toddle offski for some sleep. It’s 11 pm and Dick’s already hit the sack – our 4.30-5.00 a.m.wakings by dancing sunlight and howling Hadedas have taken their toll … those and these last minute preps liberally peppered with a hefty dash of excitement.

All good stuff, eh!

And the rain it raineth and …

… and the lightning flasheth and the thunder rolleth – and the wind … oooh, the wind, it bloweth and howleth and doth a frenzy throweth! In short, we are in the middle of one mother of a storm.  It’s awesome (oh how I love/hate that word!)  just how suddenly and violently the weather’s mood changes out here. Until about 5.00 pm, all was harsh baking sunshine, faint breeze and cobalt blue skies. Then within minutes, a huge bank of clouds appears on the horizon, the wind swings 180 degrees and puffs itself up into a vicious blow. And I mean vicious: travelling home tonight, we find whole boughs torn from trees littering the road. Worse, we discover our rental car has a large, nasty crack in the windscreen – something has fallen on it, from one of those severed branches, perhaps.  So now I am typing this in Lena’s bar where the internet reception is good, with Caspar and Biscuit more than a little glad of the company. Thunderstorms (it is still raging) as far as dogs are concerned, are usually better tolerated when you have a two-legged friend to reassure you …

So, on to a quicko update. As of yesterday, we’ve begun loading some of our stuff on the boat and giving it a thorough clean from bows to stern and from every grubby nook to crusty cranny. Come Friday we will be living on it full time. I’d love to say that’s because it is completely finished, but the truth is there are a couple of outstanding issues which we hope will be resolved before Thursday. Why Thursday in particular? Because in line with many other South African companies, Gideon’s outfit shut up shop for the Christmas holidays and don’t return to work for at least two weeks. So, should anything be left outstanding by Thursday, or should new problems arise, we will have to kick our heels and wait for normal service to be resumed around 5th January 2009. I’ll leave you to imagine how much that thought delights us. The fact is that at the time of writing this, we are only awaiting resolution to the following:

1. New circuit board for the watermaker. This has now arrived and will be fitted tomorrow (possibly – reality and promises sometimes being the estranged bedfellows that they are.)

2. Fitting of new windlass to be completed. It was our decision to upgrade, so we carry the can for this being outstanding – but it was a good decision to get the beefier version, so we’re glad we did.

3. Replacement cockpit table to be brought to boat and fitted.  In an earlier entry on this blog, I said that was supposed to happen at the end of last week, but it’s still not on the boat, so am guessing it’ll show up tomorrow – or Wednesday (Tuesday is a public holiday here, so it’s one very short week.)

4. Mastervolt still giving different battery status reading to Blue Sky unit – needs correction (though nobody seems to understand why, so could continue to be a ticklish problem this.)

5. Some paintwork needs remedying. An area the size of a grapefruit shows distinctly bluish where the guys have sanded down too far.

And well, that’s more or less it. Living aboard may well wheedle out further niggles, that’s to be expected, but we’ll deal with them as they arise … (by turning a peculiar shade of purple and committing unholy murder, very likely – )  Fear not, I jesteth (well, almost).

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Tomorrow is a very busy day with much to arrange, but by the end of it, we should have our new kiaat floor grids for the heads and shower rooms (thanks Sue for the idea!)  Richard, an independent joiner, who is making them for us, is a real craftsman and has done us a huge favour by fitting this job in at very short notice.  We think they’ll be a huge improvement over the immensely practical, but immensely unlovely anti-slip paint that blights those areas now. Newer FastCats will have Corian flooring in these same areas – which we’ve seen in the factory, and which looks really ace.  (But then so will Richard’s grids … so nerrr!)

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Oooh, lastly – Dutchman flaking system is now R.I.P.  New stackpack, conventional zipper style, now fitted. An expensive YAY! to that.

A weird ol’ day…

… of watermakers and whales -  garnished with a healthy dash of fun and sun.  But first the watermaker news:

Last night, Gideon rang to say Doug and Charles had solved the problem and all was well.  The hiccup was apparently due to a faulty timer mechanism – a bent pin, I believe, that they’d managed to successfully repair. Today, we roll up at the marina to put the watermaker to the test,  and find Doug and Charles (and Kyle) with a big bucket full of water and pipes here there and everywhere  – now the bloody thing isn’t pumping water at all.  Not one soggy drop.  Gloom, groans and grumbles all round. Then things start to look up when Doug succeeds in making a plumbing adjustment so that it is possible to pump water straight from watermaker to galley tap and not have the valve blow when the tap is subsequently turned off – which was another little foible of the Aquabase. This plumbing solution is a welcome development:- before Doug’s interference, if you wanted to turn off the newly-made water being directed to and flowing out through the galley tap, it was necessary to first redirect the water flow (from galley tap to watermaker tank) using a manual switch down in the hull. Not really a goer, that one. Far too much dashing about.  By the way – I’m sorry if this is befuddling, but stick with it,  and you’ll be totally confused. A little later and  another breakthrough: Charles finds that there is a rogue soldered dry join on the watermaker circuit board. Contact is therefore intermittent, accounting for the “sometimes it pumps; sometimes it don’t” problem. When the dodgy joint is held firm, watermaker works like a charm. When not, it goes on strike. Solution?  Easy – a new circuit board, d’oh! Sadly, no suitable replacements in the factory stock, so we must DHL one in from France a.s.a.p.  A couple of phone calls et voila – that’s that sorted. Well, theoretically, that is. I’m being ultra-cautious here, but when, and only when the new board is safely installed and the infernal contraption working sweetly and reliably, will we raise a grateful cheer and drink a toast to your good health. But, touch wood, it seems we should have a working watermaker within a week.

Today, another small step forward – our new rubber duck was brought down to the marina. It’s the new flatter-bottomed catamaran version, and it’s a whole lot of fun. Goes well, too – with a 6hp Tohatsu outboard, and two of us aboard, we had it planing – well just.  Didn’t have time to play for long, but we’ll remedy that sometime this week. It’s certainly a pretty number and wonderfully stable for climbing aboard and disembarking.

While out at sea trying to solve the watermaker business, we were treated to another wonderful whale show. A family of three, ma, pa and baby. Gideon was helming and took us as close as was wise … a real thrill to be so near to such gloriously outsized and powerful creatures. My attempts to photograph them were pretty rubbish – they don’t surface for very long and it’s hard zooming in on them, since you can’t be sure which bit of sea to aim for. Nor did it help having temporarily lost my glasses (yet again) and having to borrow Gideon’s who has better eyesight than mine. But the above is proof  (albeit rather uninspired proof) that we woz with whales today!

We’re now having some fun and games with the electronics that were fine, now proving problematical. Namely, our NMEA won’t link properly with the SSB, Raymarine plotter, and Flo-scan.  Not sure why not, either. With all the fussing over the SSB, perhaps things have been changed. It might be we have to ask Ken, who did the original wiring, to come back and see if he can restore things to full working connectivity.

Another small niggle is the leaky one-way (bilge) valves, that aren’t quite as one-way as we would like – situated in both forepeaks. They allow a small amount of water to flow back in when the hulls dive and plough through the waves. To try and cure this, Gideon has arranged for a modification to be made in the ducting to encourage water to flow outwards only, and for new through-hulls with scuppers to be fitted.  Hopefully this will improve matters …

A new Corian-coated cockpit table has been made (which was fast work!) and that will be installed tomorrow.

And Hooray, Hooray, we now have our South African Registration papers! You would not believe the number of bureaucratic hurdles that had to be cleared for that one … I think the process has aged Steven by several years – but a result at last, so now we are free to leave Durban legally.

And other than a handful of very minor bits and pieces to be fitted or fixed, which should all happen before the week is out, well that’s about it. Butterfly should be ready enough for us to move aboard next week. I write that, of course, with a sense of trepidation for all the obvious reasons – but also with a huge degree of bubbling excitement. And Dick’s the same.  Could it really be that we shall have Christmas aboard a finished Butterfly and free to leave Durban at last?  What a shiversome notion, that is!

Sometimes you win …

… sometimes you lose;  today we did a bit of both.  Thanks to Bruce (who kindly called by this morning) we made some progress with the SSB – managing to tune into Capetown radio. Progress of sorts – but it would have been nicer if they could have heard our transmission too. Poor atmospherics have a lot to answer for, apparently. Bruce is going to supply us with some more frequencies to try out tomorrow and we’ll see how we make out with those. If we don’t make out, then … well, what? Find another man who can (help), I guess.

No progress however on the watermaker front. The darn thing starts to do all the right things and make all the right noises, then stops. Doug gets it going again and after playing ball for a spell, it stops again. A few ideas have been floated as to why and how and what and when, but nothing absolutely decisive. More pow-wows with the (French) manufacturer have been scheduled. Neither Dick nor I can remember the company name off hand; something tells me we’ll know it all too well before the week is out …!

Removing the protective plastic off the cockpit table, we find its Corian coating is patchy. This coating is very attractive, intensely practical, and pretty durable, so it’s a rather nice touch. But it seems the gelcoat it’s been mixed with is UV sensitive (Steven’s explanation, not mine) – and where parts of it have been subjected to sunlight, it has bleached slightly. Not a train smash, thankfully. There are three other tables already made and waiting in the factory which should be fine, and anyway, a light sanding and polish of the original one may well sort the problem out.

The saloon table, however, which has also been kept under wraps to protect it, was also unveiled today, and absolutely no complaints there – it’s beautiful! Not a blemish or a flaw anywhere. A really stunning piece. Once we get settled in I’ll upload some photos to prove my eulogising is not without just cause.

As to the weepy bilge valve … ha! The portside one (in the forepeak) that was working just fine, but which was replaced anyway for symmetry (!)- yes, you’ve guessed it – now it leaks too.  I hate to say I told ‘em so, but if that isn’t a case of “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” then I don’t know what is.  As for the starboard valve – the one that was faulty – well it is still leaking, but not as much as before. We’re told finding really good one-way valves is a problem out here in Durban – but after everything that’s gone before, believe me, it’s not a problem we’re likely to lose any sleep over.  And speaking with Gideon this evening, he is going to see if he can bring some Jabsco replacements in from Europe, which would be great. Hopefully, that should be an end to our damp forepeaks

A very definite win, however, is finding that even after a few hours’ sailing, the port engine compartment has remained completely dry. (Ooooh, hallelujah and praises be!) I mean, not even a whisper of a leak … so far, at least. I’m still nervous about saying that out loud in case I’m tempting fickle fate, but not surprisingly, we’re hoping upon hope this happy state continues indefinitely.

At long last …

… it seems the Capi electrical system is working as it should. Hooray and pop the champagne. Dick met with Steven today to put the whole thing through its paces and all went well – meaning we really do seem to have a truly plug-and-play facility with all the electrical nodes – without hiring an IT boffin to reprogramme everything each time we want to make a change or addition. And if you haven’t got a clue what I’m talking about, well, you’re in good company, because neither do I. And frankly, I don’t care. All I do know is that it has taken months of wrangling and hiatus and hand-wringing to get to this point and that now we are sorted, the moment is therefore made all the more sweet.

Pity the Alden weather unit is still giving us the run around  … but tut-tut, we mustn’t get greedy. We just need to find someone who does know how to programme the darned thing.  A lesson for the learning here – never be coaxed into buying anything (no matter how much you’re told it’s pure dynamite) without first ensuring you either have sufficient knowledge to operate it yourself, or that you (or your boatbuilder) have an expert already lined up who can do the honours for you. But we shall not be of faint heart – I mean it really can’t be that difficult can it?

Doug, bless him, thinks he’s sorted the problem with the watermaker – but we won’t know until tomorrow when we head for the open sea once more to put it to the test. Given the watermaker is down in the starboard hull, fiddling with it is not for those with queasy stomachs. Yesterday Doug was the only one of the FastCat team who could stay below without turning several shades of green … so I think it’s safe to say he’s fated to remain chief watermaker fixer.

New one-way valves fitted on both forepeak bilges. Only one had been faulty, but Steven says he likes to keep things symmetrical, so both port and stbd replaced. Again, won’t know if these are an improvement until after tomorrow’s test sail. The trouble seems to be water seeping in and back down the exit pipe when the outlet gets swamped by sea water when sailing. Just a small dribble, and because it’s not under pressure, it manages to slip past the three triangular flaps of the valve – leaking out by the bilge. Not a vast amount, but a nuisance all the same. Doug is going to try modifying the valve with a ball to solve the problem once and for all. We wait with bated wotsits and will keep you posted.

Only one vital document stands between us and our being awarded South African Registration. With a little bit of luck, months of bureaucratic to-ing and fro-ing will culminate in a successful conclusion – perhaps even tomorrow.

New windlass (Muir  Storm 2200) should be arriving in S.A. around the 6th December. Definitely want to get this fitted before we leave Durban.

Bruce coming along tomorrow to see if he can sort the SSB out. Whether its problems lie in operator or installer error, we have no idea at present.  Hoping he may be able to shed some light.

Matt still touching up some small paint and varnish blemishes – but a last round of tidying would be best done after everything else is completed- so no repeat episodes of finding footprints in nice new shiny paintwork – as has happened this week and many times before!

All in all then, there is so very, very little left to do – and although we’re terrified of counting our chickens before they scratch (you can probably understand why after so many setbacks) – we seem to have arrived at the point where we can soon move aboard … Heck, did I really say that? Must have had too much sun …

Lastly, I am cursed with a bad case of have-camera-will-travel-itis …  which means I have acquired a sea of photographs awaiting processing and upload. Some from as far back as our trip to Capetown. Never seem to find the time to keep apace with them all, so they’re sitting on my computer hard drive gathering dust. Must remedy that -  but not tonight: I’m all out of time and we have an early start tomorrow. Of course, it might be a little previous to flood the blog photo gallery with pics of events past, but they’re nice to have as a record – so will make a big endeavour to start posting these up later this week.

Heigh-ho, time to scram … g’night all.

Last Friday …

… Butterfly was gently returned to the water. The repairs to fix the portside engine compartment leak at last completed, it was a relief to see her afloat once more. CTC Cranes know what they’re doing and the weather couldn’t have been kinder – sunny with the lightest of airs. So lift-wise, at least, it was a perfect textbook exercise with a successful conclusion. Phew! Now we just have to keep our eye on things and hope this is the end of that little saga.

As already mentioned here, getting her out of the water gave us a chance to check her hulls thoroughly. Thankfully, nothing untoward – in fact she’s looking good and solid both above and below the waterline. We have, however, find a very small amount of water in the starboard forepeak – which seems to come from a slightly weepy bilge valve. This will now be changed. Now the push is on to get the watermaker and SSB working properly. Also a few other minor electronic niggles to sort out, but nothing major.

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The following day, Saturday, was a scorcher. Lucky for us, Mike and Lynn had invited us to spend the weekend with them at their Munster holiday home – just a stone’s throw from a long unspoilt beach. So we ambled down there early afternoon, and the four of us took their dogs, Cassie and Emma, for a sandy, salty frolic in the waves. Almost nobody there, but us – just clean white sand and a froth-capped sea. Pretty darn perfect.

But eventually the heat of the day proved too much for the heavens and, with a sharply rising wind, thunder and lightning began cracking the air.  Time to head back. Later that evening, the heavens settled down again and out in their lush, delightfully untamed garden, we clustered around a cosy braai. So did the mosquitoes – only they were feasting on us. Savage little buggers, these, so Dick and I made a mercy run to the local Spar for some repellent sticks and smoke coils, and once these were annointed and lit to thwart our unwelcome guests, we set about our own feast in far more comfort.

Sunday morning, after a lazy start and a cooked breakfast, the four of us headed off in the Combi for a spot of sight-seeing with stops along the way to explore some of Mike and Lynn’s favourite haunts. Around early afternoon, the wind again blew savage – but nothing like as bad as down at the marina, where, had we but known, Butterfly was being given a whipping.  Mid-afternoon, we said our goodbyes and headed on back to Winston Park and our apartment. All in all a wonderful weekend break – thanks to M & L’s superb hospitality.

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Today, Monday, we took Butterfly out to try and fix the watermaker. James and Roz, now back in Durban and living aboard their boat, Sunday Star, joined us. So too, Andreas, Dyer, Kyle, Charles and Doug from African FastCats. A nice sail with perfect winds, but alas the guys unable to fix the watermaker. Back to the drawing board time, I guess.  It appears to be an intermittent fault whereby everything seems to work fine for a spell and then the suction of seawater stops. We’ll have to wait and see what their Plan B is …

After the sail, Butterfly safely moored, Dick and I joined James and Roz aboard Sunday Star for a proper cuppa coffee and a chat. Sunday Star is an old racer, a thoroughbred in need of a little TLC – well, quite a lot of TLC I guess. James, who is a carpenter, is aptly skilled to nurse her back to her former glory. And Roz has already begun prettying her up with some smart new soft furnishings.  Tucked inside her saloon, the atmosphere is wonderfully cosy – as different in feel as could be from Butterfly’s open airiness. James and Roz will be leaving on Friday, and are unlikely to return before we leave Durban for good – which is a huge pity.  It would be just great to have a sail on Sunday Star once J & R have refurbished her – but sail or no sail, we’re definitely gonna miss ‘em.

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A confession here: truth is there’s rather a lot of detail and ’stuff’  I’ve left out of these blog posts – particularly of late – due to a lack of time and poor internet connections which hamper more regular postings. Yet without a written record, even though each day out here is different and full of its own agenda, one week seems to roll seamlessly into the next with indecent haste – and so much of the journey gets forgotten.  So from now on, shall endeavour to be a little more disciplined and keep apace with events more frequently. Not sure whether that will be seen as a promise or a threat … !