Back on the water II
He has finally left me alone - oh no he hasn't, we are now discussing whether we need to buy any more 3in1 oil (we don't; we've got loads, it just requires looking the THE cupboard, maybe moving one or two other bottles out of the way if it isn't instantly obvious..... and the battle of the sexes goes on).
I would love to spend my life burbling on to myself and the world in general, via my keyboard. But it is rare, on a boat, that you have a long enough period of silence to form one simple sentence, let alone anything worthy of someone taking a minute out of their lives to read.
However, the fact that we are back on the water is reason enough to document what it going on right now, for posterity and for looking back on during the long, wet winter months. We are currently in the long, wet spring months but today the sun is out so we are all hands on deck, prepping the boat for the first race of the season: the Tivat Regatta on Saturday.
I'm still a tad uneasy about racing Monty B, being my pride n joy and all that - and my home. My witchy clutter of oil lamps, bits of stone, shells, wood, pine cones, dead animal skulls, a tortoise shell and interesting feathers, which make my boat my home, will have to be cleared away to prevent mayhem down below when we are tacking up "The Chain" (Verige channel).
But pride from our previous (lucky?) result (see Stevova Regatta winnners) has made me put aside my reservations of any risk and I am actually very excited. We have a team - yet to practice - we are even servicing the damned winches. We have arranged for a diver to visit today to do a full clean of our underbelly (we are not getting hauled before the season for more reasons than I care to mention) and I am on spinnaker repair this afternoon.
So......watch this space after Saturday.
We spent our first dreamy days and night out on anchor at the weekend, making the most of a brief respite in the pissing down rain to remind ourselves of why we live on a boat ie. not so we can live in a half-built marina, surrounded by other boats blocking the view, yawing on our mooring lines and being driven insane by building noise. It was so beautiful and inspired me to do some repainting of the hull (which was then wrecked by a surprise rainstorm that evening that drove dirty rivulets of water into my drying paintwork). Ah, Montenegro - we love you!
Right, my face pack has dried and the dogs are crossing their legs which means it is time for me to do something else.
I would love to spend my life burbling on to myself and the world in general, via my keyboard. But it is rare, on a boat, that you have a long enough period of silence to form one simple sentence, let alone anything worthy of someone taking a minute out of their lives to read.
However, the fact that we are back on the water is reason enough to document what it going on right now, for posterity and for looking back on during the long, wet winter months. We are currently in the long, wet spring months but today the sun is out so we are all hands on deck, prepping the boat for the first race of the season: the Tivat Regatta on Saturday.
I'm still a tad uneasy about racing Monty B, being my pride n joy and all that - and my home. My witchy clutter of oil lamps, bits of stone, shells, wood, pine cones, dead animal skulls, a tortoise shell and interesting feathers, which make my boat my home, will have to be cleared away to prevent mayhem down below when we are tacking up "The Chain" (Verige channel).
But pride from our previous (lucky?) result (see Stevova Regatta winnners) has made me put aside my reservations of any risk and I am actually very excited. We have a team - yet to practice - we are even servicing the damned winches. We have arranged for a diver to visit today to do a full clean of our underbelly (we are not getting hauled before the season for more reasons than I care to mention) and I am on spinnaker repair this afternoon.
So......watch this space after Saturday.
We spent our first dreamy days and night out on anchor at the weekend, making the most of a brief respite in the pissing down rain to remind ourselves of why we live on a boat ie. not so we can live in a half-built marina, surrounded by other boats blocking the view, yawing on our mooring lines and being driven insane by building noise. It was so beautiful and inspired me to do some repainting of the hull (which was then wrecked by a surprise rainstorm that evening that drove dirty rivulets of water into my drying paintwork). Ah, Montenegro - we love you!
Right, my face pack has dried and the dogs are crossing their legs which means it is time for me to do something else.
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