Our friend Derek wrote us recently about an Arab expression that he learned from his father who spent some time in Egypt. Derek's father roughly translated Sham El-Nessim as meaning "the smell of the breeze". He remembers his father telling him that this was the name of spring breezes that were the "signal" for those with money to move to their seaside homes near Alexandria to escape the heat of the summer in Cairo. I did a little research on the internet and found out that Sham El-Nessim is in fact a festival signifying the arrival of spring and is a uniquely Egyptian tradition practiced since the days of the Pharaohs.

Since Derek's email, the expression has been on my mind. For lately there has been the scent of something warm and sultry in the air. Of course the real proof of spring came at the beginning of March with our first Shirav. While I go on about smelling the breeze many of you are asking "What about that new engine?" Rest assured that we've made good progress.

Throughout February Manny did last minute adjustments to the new engine and worked on the alignment. Then one evening when I arrived at the boat I found him ready to start the engine. The nanni diesel turned over at the click of the switch. Manny looked at me and said "Is there less noise?" Our old Ruggerini engine shook like a Parkinson patient and was so loud conversation was impossible. I called up to Manny from my place in the galley and said "What do you think? We're talking!" And then a huge smile broke out on his face as he also realized the difference.

Later that week we asked our friend Pedro to join us as we set out for a trial sail. After six months at the dock Yofy's bottom sported more than her usual marine growth, but we managed to make way. It was a day of light winds and we were happy to motor down the Gulf. Manny eagerly read off knots from our GPS readings and both of us kept exclaiming about the speed we were making - "even with a foul bottom!" Although I'm sure Pedro grew a little tired of our fixation on speed over ground, I do have to say that we are delighted with the extra push this new engine is giving us.

Midway through our day we found ourselves well away from land. We turned off the engine and lay adrift while I served some lunch. The sun shone and a
light breeze played over the water as we ate. Off in the distance, the outline of Egypt's Sinai coast beckoned. We raised a glass to toast the end of one long project.

Over the next few weeks we did several more day sails, checking the engine against stronger winds and waves. Each time we returned dockside, Manny climbed in the engine room to check for leaks or tweak the alignment. After years of sailing with a questionable engine, we needed more than just a little assurance that this new diesel was in good running condition.

While Manny focused on the engine, I gave a light sand and three coats of cetol to all of Yofy's brightwork. In the beginning we kept a close eye on the durability of varnish, teak oil and other recommended products and soon found that in this climate cetol stands the test. So, a few years ago, I sanded all the brightwork down to wood and applied five coats of cetol. In any other climate, I would only need to reapply one new coat each year, but Eilat's strong sun, sandy winds and salty air eat through several coats a year.



As our hours of daylight slowly lengthened, Manny became determined to clean Yofy's bottom. He dug through our lockers unearthing his scuba gear and waited for the next mild day. Last Saturday he filled his air tank, took a long exhale and zipped into his wetsuit. Grabbing a plastic scrapper, he stepped overboard and set to work. Half an hour later he surfaced covered in bits of barnacle, looked at me and said "You know, we really do have to haul out soon."

After a good wash and a chance to warm up in the sun, Manny was ready to do a test sail. There is something about guys and performance. He just had to see if Yofy would make another half a knot under power with a clean bottom. Within half an hour we were back out on the water glued to the GPS. Excitement mounting we watched the numbers climb until Yofy was making 5.9 knots under power. Manny looked at me and grinned. "Just imagine what she'll do after haul out!"