The Small Stuff
29 May 2011 | East Coast
Ostend at Anchor maritime festival: our annual pilgrimage to Ostend. We had been looking forward to this for some time now. Another chance to catch up with family and friends, another cracking few days in a sea-side town that has pretty much everything, now improved by the presence of historic and tall ships.
We had planned to cross on Thursday and head back either Sunday or Monday. The weather forecast for Thursday didn't look that good, so as Brigitte took an extra day off work and we now planned to cross on Wednesday. Sounds like a plan.
We sailed from Ipswich just after lunch and as soon as we locked out we were met by a gusty 20kts wind on the nose. As we were pushing the tide as well, progress downriver was disappointingly slow. It took us 90 minutes to get to Landguard - half an hour longer than usual.
Still, the wind was indeed southerly as forecast, so we hoisted the sails and gave the engine a rest. Rounded Cork Sands yacht beacon and set the autopilot for 130 degrees - Ostend, here we come. Progress was not fast, but comfortable - sort of.
I went down below to check work out an eta - around 08H00 the next morning. Then, i noticed a smell... blocked/overflowing heads? Brigitte noticed water coming the floorboards. Fuck! What water there was left in the tanks had found it's way into our bilges. Insert more swearwords here. Bloody illusive leak - best guess: an air vent somewhere, but the fact that the water pressure pump keeps running and running suggests a leak...
Anyway, in the mean time: GMDSS alerts on the VHF. Gale warnings left, right and centre. The Dutch, The French, the Brits, the Belgians, ... they were all at it. Gale SW 8-9, they all agreed. When would it arrive? Imminent/soon/plus tard/tonight ... take your pick. More swearing. I asked crew how desperate we were to get to Ostend. Not that desperate it seemed.
For once we received a gale warning when we were still in a position to act upon it. Usually we receive them when we're right in the middle of a gale.
Headed back, tail between the legs, under genoa alone. A rather pleasant and fast trip back. In on 'free flow', parked, stiff drink. Discussed options for a bit. The inevitable pretty soon became clear: not this year. With the forecast strong westerly winds on Sunday/Monday there were just too many uncertainties. Given plenty of time, we could wait it out, go elsewhere, or something... But the one thing we lacked was time. Daughter had to be taken back to Uni (and exams start next week), Brigitte due back at work by the middle of the week. There's always next year.
The end of next week the boat's going back to Fox's for a couple of weeks. Some inconsiderate scrote has taken a bite out of our gel-coat. Needs to be fixed. And they can trace/fix that mystery water 'leak' while they're at it. As I'll be working the next 5 weeks, it's the perfect time for it.
Hopefully the weather will be more cooperative when we're off on our 3 week Summer cruise the end of July.
In the mean time, other things occupy my mind. When I retire in 4-5 years we won't be living aboard year round. We've spent enough cold/windy/rainy days aboard to realise that therein lies madness.
We've always rented, never owned a house. Once I start drawing my pension the rent would take a hefty bite out of it. Don't think so - we'll buy something whilst we're both still working and we can afford it. Where? Stay in Britain? Wouldn't mind, but it's likely to be unaffordable. And the social and health care provisions (I will certainly need the latter towards the end of my life) are not exactly what you would hope for. Don't want to spend my final years on a waiting list waiting for permission to die.
Belgium? Not much left for us to go back to and the weather's mostly crap.
France seems to tick pretty much all the right boxes. Quality of life at an affordable price. Way to go.
The plan is the get all of that sorted over the next few weeks in between shifts and whilst the boat is getting sorted at the yard.
As you can see, plenty on my mind. It probably explains why my heart isn't really a 100% into sailing right now.
Recently I've also been evaluating my life. Where I am, what I want and when I want to get there... And it amazes me how little time I actually have left. Only a handful of years to sort the rest of my life... frightening.
So, been 'stocktaking' these last few days. What matters, what doesn't and what I really can do without. Done that a few times in the past (last time was after my stroke 7 years ago) and it has always turned out to be a cleansing experience. High time to do it again.
Out with the pompous, the windbags, the easily offended, the politically correct and the 'stuffed shirts'... I have a family that loves me, friends I can count on, everything/everyone else - good bye and good riddance. Benchmark applied: are they likely to turn up for my funeral?
There, time to get off the couch. As they say: 'Don't sweat the small stuff, and it's all small stuff'.