Never a good idea.
I needed to relax and just allow the sheer enjoyment of being able to be at sea wash over me. That would ease the pain......
We arrived about 13:00. Louise was unpacking and I was removing the sail cover, when our friend Dave called over to us that our Club Commodore, Brian, and his wife Meryl, were outside the Griffin, and would we like to join them. Of course we would.
When we returned to Ishtar after an hour sitting and chatting about nothing in particular, I was happy and relaxed, and the couple of hours Louise and I spent sailing around the Haven in about 5 knots of wind was simply pure enjoyment.
It got better. An hour later, another friend, Andy, just returned from Ireland - the first time he's sailed his Vancouver 28 'Shearwater of Sanday' - was also thirsty, so we went back to the Griffin, stood by the wall, and talked with friends about sailing, boating in general, the Olympics (heard through an open window from a TV inside the pub) and everything else. A really good night's sleep followed.
Louise wanted a swim on Friday. She also wanted to scrape some of the weed from Ishtar's hull. The wind was forecast to pick up from the East, and gust to 30 knots on Saturday - not pleasant for a boat moored in Dale. We crossed the bay and dropped anchor out of the wind in the NorthEast corner of Sandy Haven bay. The water temperature was a smidgeon below 20C, but Louise still let out the odd expletive as she leaped from Ishtar's stern into the blue.
She'd finished scraping after about 20 minutes, and just enjoyed swimming around the boat. Tigger was nonplussed. He wanted to join her, but didn't want to jump in, so just looked and whimpered pathetically. When she got out, and we'd made a cuppa, we decided that discretion was the better part of valour. We'd head up the river to Llangwm, and get out of the winds. Just enjoy ourseleves and avoid any strenuous activity.
We set off Eastwards in glorious sunshine. The sun sparkling on the sea has always enthralled me, and I seem to take many, many pictures of the same sorts of thing. I don't really care. Every time I look at them, I want to be there.
We called in at the pontoon in Pembroke on the way. Louise filled some water bottles and took Tigger ashore. I had the far more important job of guarding the boat. A chap fishing on the pontoon told me he'd caught six bass there that morning.
Llangwm was still and tranquil, as it can be. Louise rowed us ashore and we wandered the banks of the Cleddau, under the oaks.
Tigger enjoyed the mud, and several rotten sticks
and then Louise rowed us back, the oars sploshing and dripping in the mirror flat water.
As the day faded, the light turned from golds to reds,
and we were treated to another stunning sunset.
The day was far from over, though. As we opened a bottle of wine we heard the buzz of a small engine from high in the sky in the west. I'm not sure what it's called, but it seemed to be a parachutist with an engine. It must have been fantastic up there.
And it didn't even end there. The clear skies later gave us a beautiful view of the Milky way, and Louise counted 6 shooting stars, part of the passing Perseid meteorites, which were due to peak on Saturday. I wasn't relaxed when I got to Ishtar, but after that afternoon and evening, I was as content as I'd been for several months.
We did nothing much on Saturday. Ishtar had some visitors. First, we had a chat with the water ranger, John Warneford, who informed us that things were quite lumpy down in Dale. In fact, the Angle lifeboat was out helping a sinking speedboat. He left and trundled off slowly, downstream.
Then a pair of swans with their young came up to say hello. I know you're not really supposed to feed them, but we gave in with a couple of crusts of dried bread. Louise commented on how the parents ate nothing, making sure that the young fed well.
One particular ugly duckling then began squaking indignantly at the waste of good crusts of stale bread to these birds, and kept on squaking until Louise fed him too.
Louise took Tigger ashore after that, and I took apart our Nasa GPS repeater, which had been steaming up. It was extremely fiddly to put back together, each of the buttons on the front had a small piston behind it, which kept falling off as I tried to put it back together. THen I 'punctured' one of the buttons but managed to fix it with a couple of coats of 'Stormsure' a glue we've used for repairing diving drysuits for years, which leaves a clear flexible patch once dry. The misting itself seemed to be being caused by a perished 'O' ring, so a liberal spreading of silicone grease hopefully solved that.
The wind was much reduced on Sunday, at 15-20 knots. We put a reef in the main and set off down river, passing the Sunday racing fleet heading upstream as we did so.
We called in at Milford. Chichester's 'Gypsy Moth IV' was apparently here for the weekend. We saw a sign tied to the railings, but no Gypsy Moth. She must have sailed that morning. Ho hum. As we sailed further down river, past the Oil terminals, we could see a large LNG tanker was about to leave. The port authority advised all boats and ships to keep clear, on VHF Channel 12, so we tucked in under the clifs at Chappel Bay and anchored to watch the display.
Whilst I watched the tugs manoeuvre the huge vessel, attended by Pilot boats, Louise quickly rowed ashore and up a set of old steps above a disused landing stage, snapping a few shots as she did so.
When we arrived back at Dale we met Nick on the pontoon. It was his speedboat that had sank on its mooring. Luckily, he had managed to get a group of friends together and they managed to drag it ashore, and get it back on the trailer. Nick was optimistic about the engine, and, to be fair, the boat did not look any the worse for wear, really.
We'd planned to sail on Monday, but another Easterly blow during the night left us very tired. Our friend John rang then, with a computer problem, so we headed off in the car to Sundersfoot, and spent a pleasant day talking with him, drinking tea and eating coffee and walnut cake.
