New dinghy (work in progress)

The day before yesterday it was already time to take Marion to the airport. She’d been flat out at home with all the Milûk business and caught up on plenty of sleep. Read a good book (“What We Can Know” by Ian McEwan), drove up the volcano, explored the town, played one round of golf, mostly ate well, and not much else. She needed it! The weather had something to do with it too: during her last few days it rained in south-east Tenerife for the first time in a year, with plenty of wind as well. On the day we drove up to the Teide volcano there were big waves in the north-west corner, and once again a few tourists won a Darwin Award (hopefully). People had been advised, or even forbidden, to go out on the quay, but you’re not a tourist for nothing, and stubborn with it. Three dead… It even made the eight o’clock news on Dutch TV, so I in particular got quite a few messages asking if we were all right! Nothing going on where we were. In the days after, with the wind veering around, there was a bit of a jiggle in the harbour, but nothing alarming.

The day after Marion flew home I was due to move to Santa Cruz, the capital, because there were no berths available in the marinas near the airport. Wouldn’t you know it: glorious weather, full sun, and no wind, or 2-3 knots right on the nose. Motoring it was, then, to Santa Cruz. After checking in with the port authority and the marina, the “Marineros” came out to me in a little boat. You may lie over thére, sir: stern-to, picking up a line from the pontoon that holds your bow to a heavy chain. As there was no dinghy on the stern they could hop straight aboard and lend a hand, because single-handed that’s a pretty awkward job. Especially since I think it’s only the second or third time I’ve done it with this boat. The strong winds had knocked the pontoon about a bit here, so I also had to tie lines to rings in the quay wall. Fine, but it does mean clambering to get off at low tide, because all the long boats have these lines…

Meanwhile I’d been in touch with Navalia Yachting, who’d be bringing the dinghy some time after four. By around five it turns up. Now how to unload it and get it in the water, because there’s only a steep ramp that doesn’t reach the waterline. I wandered back to the pontoon, where further along six guys were clearly in the middle of the last evening of a boat charter. Very loud, incomprehensible music; Shazam said Romania. They turned out to be very friendly Moldovans who were of course happy to help. The five of them got the dinghy into the water (with the first scratches straight away, as it was rather clumsy; before I could say no, I want it done like this, it had already happened. Oh well, that’s life, and now the first scratch is out of the way.) And then of course it immediately filled up, because there was no bung in it…. Oh, and this dinghy really fills up a lot. Where the old dinghy had a false floor that the water didn’t come above when it was empty, this one took on a good amount. The dealer went off to get a bung. Later he let me know he’d be back around closing time, seven o’clock. In the meantime I’d noticed that the fuel hose also had no tank or engine connectors, so I texted about that. And asked for a rubber rubbing strake. He didn’t have one.

When the gentleman came back it turned out he’d only brought the bung. But where are the connectors? Without them a dinghy meant for an outboard isn’t much use to me. After some back and forth it turned out he did indeed have them, but it hadn’t dawned on him that I’d want them supplied too. Sigh. Now he’s bringing them this afternoon, and I’m paying him for them.

Meanwhile the laundry’s been done, one of the dinette seat cushions has been given an extra stopper to keep it from sliding, and the tracking software for Pelagia and me has been updated again.

And there’s the gentleman… With a (free!) Yamaha connector for the engine, but it turns out he doesn’t have Honda at all… Sigh, if he’d said so earlier Marion or KJ + Tan could have brought one along. Monday, then. The chandlery in town doesn’t have it either. On the way back from town I had a nice chat with a chap called Piet on a JPK 39 who’s also sailing round the world. JPKs are very fast, lightly built boats, but this one sails under charter rules, so it’s safe enough. They have a simple way of fobbing off the youngsters who beg to come along: we’re a business, so it’s € 100 a day. Well, that’s too pricey for them, of course! I’ve had a fair few at the boat myself, but I’m full. Otherwise you really do get pestered sometimes. Very annoying. Maybe hang a sign on the boat: NO HITCHHIKERS?

Right, the beds are made, just a few lines to rig for hoisting the dinghy and I’m ready for KJ (Kommer Jan) and Tan (Tanneke). They arrive tonight and will stay aboard for 6 weeks. It’ll be a quick round of provisioning, because I want to leave for Cape Verde on Tuesday the 18th…