Another shit night.
We were woken this time at 2am, by the howling wind, and then, a peculiar cracking sort of noise - the wind had snuck into the middle of our furled headsail, and bit by bit, coaxed the sail out (bribed with what, I have NO IDEA) - you need to have a bit more stickability young headsail...).
Anyway, the result was the middle third of the sail had filled with wind, creating a 'parachute' effect. As we were tied to a pontoon, the vibrations from the force, shook us ALL awake, as did the whip cracking sort of noise.
As clever as my children are, they DID NOT sleep through this little ripper.
So, long story short, kids were transported to Granny's house at 4am due to fear of not quite knowing what would ensue, whilst Xave, Jim from the yacht next to ours, and periodically me, sail wrangled for 2 hours in the driving rain and wind with gusts so strong that I was 'unfooted' several times.
The sail was eventually 'semi-contained' at 5.30am. Enough to be able to retire anyway. I went back to Granny's to look after the kids, and Xave went to sleep.
Happy Father's Day.
* HUGE thanks to Jim for helping us through the night. Greatly appreciated.
The next afternoon, after the wind finally relaxed it's hold, we managed to untangle the headsail, only to find that it had indeed been damaged with a couple of small chafing holes near the base. Also, the metal 'tang' (whatever that is), is also nearly worn through, and instead of being round it has stretched to oval. So instead of making the most of the better weather and setting sail at 4.30am, the sail will have to come down this morning and be taken to the sailmaker to be repaired, and the welder will have to repair the 'tang'. (whatever that is).
Can you imagine what happened next?.
well,
yesterday,
I cracked the shits.
I lost the plot.
I flipped my lid
& I dropped my bundle.
(emabarrassingly, some of this was in public).
post script.
It is NOT easy to live on a yacht. Don't for one minute think that it is.
Maybe in the Med or the Carribbean on a 150ft crewed fancy pants something or other it is, but not on ours.
It is constant checking, constant retying of knots, constant everything.
No comments:
Post a Comment