Isn't it amazing how, after faultless operation for as long as you've owned the boat, it is only when you pull away and set of for halfway round the world that something on the engine drops off? Why does it do this to us? I got down to Brixham on Friday afternoon and was impatient to get away.I'd done everything I could. It was time to be on my way. I had an RV with Libby for the following Friday in Falmouth - plenty of time, but you never know. I cast off just before 1900 having checked earlier that the engine was starting and charging - it was fine. I rounded Berry Head when I noticed that the tachometer was showing less than five hundred revs when I knew the engine was running around 1500, and the engine starting battery wasn't charging. It crossed my mind to return to Brixham, less than half an hour way, but that smacked too much of defeat so early into a voyage. I decided to anchor off the mouth of the River Dart for the night, hoping to find a cove with a bit of shelter from the slight easterly swell. On examining the engine, and hoping to find it was merely a wire that had come adrift, I saw that the bottom bolt which holds the alternator to the engine block had broken off. Sod it! Beyond my DIY skills to extract the broken stud and replace it. But what the hell? I have solar panels which were delivered a good 8 amps (in a good, sunny spell) and that was more than enough to get me to Falmouth. I wondered if there would be enough charge in the batteries to allow use of the anchor windlass; but as far as instruments etc were concerned, I could easily manage without them. The next day saw me, under sail, rounding Start Point and an anchorage off the mouth of the Yealm, the wind still being in the east. I noticed that at the end of the day, the batteries were fully charged. The next day, with the wind still in the east, I decided on St Mawes (a favourite place) for the night and then a quick sprint across to Falmouth where I had fixed an engineer from Marine Engineering-Looe who have excellent service across the west country. This was to be a Parasailor day. I have always had a loathing of spinnakers and their poles, especially when singlehanded, and I hoped this revolutionary sail would be a solution. It is difficult to describe, but Google, and you will get the theory behind it. It was my first time of hoisting, although I had been given a demonstration by Stuart from SeaTeach who are the importers. It went up like a dream, flew all day with no trouble, and came down with ease. I was well please, if several thousand pounds pooer. I anchored in a calm and hot and sunny St Mawes, with the batteries still fully charged. At six the next morning, a front went through and a fresh westerly blew straight into the anchorage - very lumpy. This time, the windlass noticed that lack of an extra volt or two that the running engine can give and I hauled the last, heavy, five metres by hand - the anchor (Manson Supreme) was laden with mud and weed. Next stop Port Pendennis (inside harbour) from where I write and the alternator bolt replaced. The rain is horizontal, gale warnings in all areas. Libby arriving Friday morning. Forecast good for Saturday and thereafter - we'll see.