For all you scientists out there, work is the force applied to something, in Newtons, multiplied by the distance that the something is moved, in meters. The definition of work on Ruffian is somewhat different, as more of a means to an end and an enabler for us to continue this amazing trip. The crew of Ruffian have worked in completely different ways, Fiona has worked and made some much needed income and Iain has worked at being a boat husband. Fiona has been mentally exhausted by exercising her brain and Iain has been physically exhausted by manual labour in the sunshine and all this whilst Larry the Lazy Llama just looked on with disdain.
So whilst Fiona sat downstairs in the shade with a pleasant breeze cooling her in front of her laptop writing code, Iain toiled in the midday sun making sure that Ruffian was full to the brim with all the precious things that make life on board such a joy. Things such as gas, diesel, water, food and some would argue the zest of life itself, wine. Iain also played as being a true housewife with washing done and decks cleaned. He even read somewhere that come the end of a working day a good housewife should put her trails and tribulations aside, make sure there is tea in the pot and put a ribbon in her hair enabling her to dote on her breadwinning spouse. He wasnât sure how this worked in the modern age so Fiona had to settle for a post MOD70 regatta beer and Iain wearing a clean pair of pants.
With all the work done and delivered by the wonders of the internet, it was time to play. The delights of Cascais awaited us and a challenge was also on the table. Amongst the activities of visiting viewpoints and free museums, picnicking in the park and watching the world go by, as you only can in such a sunny cosmopolitan town, we decided it would be a good idea to test out our non existent Portuguese skills and try and find the engine filters that have been so hard to source since we left the in March. We held out high hopes for the parks etc, but the filter challenge was going to be a stretch goal.
Around town we flitted taking in the delights and being charmed by Cascais with its stylish people. The challenge was not in the forefront of our minds as we wandered around enthralled, but we happened to stumble, via a âQucikfitâesqâ shop onto an Autofactors. Things were looking up. We got out our manuals, went up to the counter and asked in our most perfect English, âDo you speak English?â âNo.â came the reply. Things were looking down. A girl behind us said âI do.â. Things were looking up and within no time we were furnished with the âchickens teeth of filtersâ as they are so rare and enough of them to keep us going for months to come. This required a celebratory beer in the sunshine whilst partaking in the local sport of people watching.
The anchorage we are in at Cascais is so social that it takes an hour just to get ashore or back again as you need to stop and chat at each boat we know. Just as you start a chore there is someone there to distract you onto more important matters like chewing the fat and people knock on your door, well hull, with surprise gifts which result in more distraction from any chores. After weâd just finished our dinner, Emma and Stuart from Amorosa called by with the most welcome gift and distracted us from our washing up chores.
The gift they bought made us realise just how far we had come. Usually when you live in a house you turn up with wine or flowers, Emma and Stuart turned up with the most welcome and rare of gifts, porridge oats. Our porridge eating can now continue until we get way further south. Emma and Stuart, you are legends. Our conversation also made us realise how much we have changed. Usually over, middle class after dinner drinks, you make polite conversation about house prices or education. Our primary subjects are now all about cheeky gas saving strategies and the best way to increase the time between having to hand wash sheets. Oh how times have changed and long may that change continue.
Moondancer a Dubious 40 on delivery to Lagos showed how windy and wavy the passage from Peniche to Cascais was.
Just to prove they were faster and could sail deeper than us they took photoâs from both sides.
The MOD70 free entertainment featured a Portuguese Elton John wannabe. Yes he was that bad.
Fog, again. We could be sat in Studland bay.
Iain gets all excited about having a brand new gas bottle having exchanged it for a super scabby rusty old one.
That looks like a great location for the MOD70 top mark. Ruffian would have a ringside seat.
Thug, loaded to the gunnels. Weâre talking about the diesel and water and not Fiona.
A great lens for giving someone the evil eye. This was ripped straight out of one of the Portuguese lighthouses.
Itâs playtime. Although it would appear that someone stole our bodies and one of your feet.