Saturday, 20 October 2012

Chelone floats!

Apologies for the delay on this post. I managed to type the title in on my phone a couple of days back, but I could not get it to accept any text......

Friday morning. The alarm went off at 05:45. A quick coffee and Louise, Tigger and myself piled into the camper van and headed off down to Pembroke dock to watch Chelone being launched. An hour and a half or so later, on a cool damp October morning, we approached the boat, hanging on straps in the launching cradle.

John turned up soon after, and before we knew it, the driver of the launch cradle was moving Chelone towards the slip. Around 16 tonnes of expensive sailing boat, dangling by a couple of nylon straps.

Just before going in, I grabbed a tin of antifoul and painted over the places where the pads of her cradle had been. I could only just reach.


A few minutes later she inched her way down the slip and into the cold waters of the Haven, at just about the top of the tide.

And that was that. Engine on, a short trip of about 50 yards and she was tied up on the pontoon.



Then we split up. The boat needed to be taken a couple of miles down river, to Neyland Marina. Our van, John's car and Ross' (the other crew member) car were parked at Pembroke dock. Someone needed to drive a car across the Cleddau bridge to Neyland Marina. I really wanted Louise to go with the boat - she's worked so hard these last few months, so many night shifts, putting money in the bank so we could afford to go. I jumped in John's car with Tigger and we drove the 15 minutes to the marina, leaving John, Louise and Ross to take the luxury trip.

As is usual when relaunching a boat, there were many checks to carry out. With a new engine, too, John spent an hour or so tightening glands, checking water and oil pressures and so on. Tigger and I were not that bothered, and, soon enough, I saw Chelone coming down river,




under the Cleddau bride and turning into Neyland Marina.

Louise was at the helm!




I was very surprised. She waved at me and didn't seem at all nervous. John then took over, and expertly turned Chelone around before going astern into her pontoon berth. Louise and Ross tied her up and they let Tigger and me in through the marina gate.

I had thought that was that, but there were still a few jobs that needed doing. The dinghy had been in John's garage for 18 months, so I set about scrubbing that. Louise did a bit of sewing on the sprayhood, and did some cleaning on deck, helped, or rather, watched, by Tigger.

Chelone's teak decks look beautiful in the sunshine. Tigger looks less happy. I wonder if he knows he won't be coming with us, and will, in fact, be parted from us for over 2 months, the longest time by far in the 10 years or so since we had him.

We spent Saturday evening in the van. Unfortunately, the leisure battery had given up the ghost, so we drank a few glasses of wine by candle light. we managed to get a new battery in Haverfordwest on Saturday. John and Suzie, the fifth crew member, had arranged a lunch at Neyland marina, and kindly bought us all a meal. Suzie's parents were also there, and a friend, Steve, as well as John's mother.

That evening, we went to Dale. Louise, Tigger and I walked up to WestDale beach. Then we had a bit of fun. We found a large (2ft by 2ft) block of a yellowish waxy substance washed up on the beach. I told Louise it might have been ambergris. When we got back to the van, she looked it up. Once she realised its potential value, she decided that she must go and get some. Now. She set off with a rucksack, hammers, knives and so on.

By now it was getting dark.


An hour later she came back up the steep cliff path, puffing and sweating, her rucksack full of the stuff. It didn't have the musty odour of ambergris. It didn't contain embedded squid beaks like ambergris does. It didn't burn with a smoky flame like ambergris doe, either. It was wax. We were not millionaires.

The following morning, I took a picture of Louise with her 'treasure'


So. Now we wait. John wants to do a 'shake down' sail and practice man overboard drill, and we need to pack the boat properly, but we just wait. The weather for Biscay does not look good at the moment, but may improve this week. It's strange. We can't wait to set off, and we know we will, but, as each day passes, we wonder when that will be.

So, we wait.