How would I feel one week down the road? After my moment of despair. Remarkably well. It looks like we're back to normal. Keener than I expected to be to get back to the boat. Back to normal.

The forecast wasn't all that great - NW 2-3 with some rain added for good measure. I was going to make the trip anyway, if only to check on the boat. And I had made arrangements to look at a second hand Ambassador Rope Stripper. See, thinking of the future.
Evita's near to the end of her exams, so she was press-ganged. Brigitte and Yanni stayed behind to... well, to do whatever they do when I'm off sailing.

Trip up was uneventful - I like them that way. The Rope Stripper looked just the business. Parted with 120 beer tokens. Hopefully we'll never need it. But having it fitted (hopefully soon) will only add to my peace of mind.

Weather forecasting seems almost to be akin to alchemy. I haven't seen it done properly yet. On the river the wind was all over the place. Attempts to sail of the mooring were soon abandoned. Once the main was up we motor-sailed downriver. And what was that knocking noise? Or am I just imagining things? Something wrong with the prop? Hope not.
One thing that had improved since our lift out - boat speed! Seven, yes 7, knots under engine. A couple of weeks ago 5 had been the best I could have hoped for. We seem to have shed a lot of weed.

As we approached the container terminal the wind turned into a consistent W and picked up a bit. Good good solid upper 3, 4 at times. Of course, W meant my proposed trip to Wrabness was scuppered. By Shotley Spit I tentatively tried to steer Guapa up the Stour. Tack - bang on the nose. Followed by swift gybe.

We were joined by partner in crime Jolie Brise for a while. To outsiders we must have appeared to be a mutual admiration society as we sailed past taking pictures of each-other's boat.
Guapa's clean bottom worked her magic too - usually Jolie Brise leaves us behind; this time we more than kept up, overtaking her at one point.

Off Walton our ways parted we started to head back. Too many dark grey clouds for my liking. What followed next was about 90 minutes of some very fine sailing. A good 15kts over deck, lower twenties at times. Loved it. Performance close to the wind was well up to scratch. We only needed to put one tack in. Keener racers were all over the place, and they didn't manage to overtake us. I'm back!

Cracking sail. Ended much too soon. As we approached our mooring the wind picked up. Gusting up to 25kts. Discretion is the better part of valour. My first approach wasn't just right - waved off - second attempt much better. Secured in a minute. Sails stacked and packed. Routine, routine. But it was getting chilly. Whilst I finished up on deck Evita put the kettle on. Of course, by the time tea was ready - bright, blue skies and a gentle breeze. A beer seemed more appropriate - so, I had both.

Ashore in a jiffy, Guapa recovered, car packed and we were off. Home by 18H00. Not the longest or most adventurous of sails but a much needed boost to moral. I can't wait for the next one. And maybe another run to Ostend at the end of the month. This could turn out to be a good year after all.