Eventually we had the picture of 'Condesa' out of the water and up on the hardstand looking grand. The groaning and straining motors as the crane lifts all 43 tonne of her acted like she was totally waterlogged. The anxiety was kept within as the tension of her weight was taken up by the complaining slings. The engine stopped and started, with dock management checking the balance of weight and the placement of 'Condesa' in the crane was spot-on... to make certain this time she stayed firm and didn't slip. We tryed to be nonchalant as we stood on the decks waiting for her to be elevated to the safe height where a ladder is brought to the side for us to leave her. Like a patient in emergency we did not take our eyes of her until she is chocked up and supported safely on the dry dock surrounded with steel structures and holsters all aiding her survival on-land. So there we were up high and dry after many months of chase-your-tail arrangements by 'he who hums' .......and she looked magnificent. It is a strange proud and awesome feeling to see her in all her glory standing this tall. Now out here in broad daylight, we got to view a couple of injuries she sustained on the Pacific crossing last year. There at the bow were the scratches in the paint-work and a slight gouge from where we slid up onto a reef in the Tuamotus. "He who hums" went rather white when this event happened and I remember he immediately lifted the floorboards to see if we were taking on water. I, on the other hand had vivid images of council workers trying to jackhammer concrete and somehow trusted our Ferro hull would withstand that nudge of the reef. Luckily we slid off the bommie (reef) a quickly as we slid up onto it. And before we even had time to make a rescue plan we were cautiously motoring across that atoll, and here is! - The evidence. Then we looked to the starboard side bow to see how much damage had happened when our anchor slipped from its housing while in full flight offshore from Mexico. Yes that dull knocking sound (if ever you hear it over a hum) is the sound of the anchor suspended and thudding into your hull under water. Neither of these two incidents we are proud of. However, all you boaties out there can testify that there are learning's every single time you take to the water and even after 7,000 nautical miles/ (15,000 klms) across the Pacific Ocean, we know there are likely to be more in the wings. Apart from that, Condesa was in great condition and relatively clean despite the time lapsed. From the tip of her bow to the timber decking at the stern all is looking impressive from this angle below - all 76ft of her. First she is high pressure hosed; the barnacles scraped off and then she is hosed down again all before she gets her new flat black paint lovingly rolled onto her over and over right up to the diligently taped waterline. That important waterline we also put to the test, as we loaded every compartment with supplies tools and emergency items for the journey. All these things bring memories flooding back, each one a story on its own. As I view her full title "La Condesa Del Mar" there in Old English Script below the decking, it is a touch foreign because now she's "Condesa" to us. She will be ever so gently eased back into the water as if it is too cold after being out in the sun for a week. We all now breathe a sigh of relief the same breath we held when she was lifted. Once she is back where she belongs she can go about her business of sailing us back home right in front of the Shafston University. Back upstream Brisbane River just short of the historic Story Bridge and the beautiful Brisbane City surrounded by gardens and cliffs and a beach all with a stone's throw from where we list as our new address.