It really is time to leave Weymouth … weed is taking root on the waterline, the ship’s stores have taken a bashing in port and hair-restorer levels alarming. Mind you, it IS tempting to hang out the window boxes and become an eccentric permanent fixture of the Weymouth quay-side as it really is such a nice place. Radio Wessex has been my constant companion and I have successfully “guessed the year” twice these last 2 days, another indicator that I am almost a local.
The other thing that makes departure a necessity is that I have been hanging out with a faceless, nameless BT Hub and to say we haven’t got on would be an understatement …. he, or perhaps she lures me in and then drops me just as I get going. I can entirely empathise with the American who, in a rage, took his laptop into a blind alley and shot it 8 times – he was done for unnecessary discharge (of a firearm).
The other aspect of being in port for a while, I have discovered, is that stuff gets EVERYWHERE and I mean EVERYWHERE. I will not attach a photograph of the current state of my little home … I can’t find the camera anyway. I only have a small sink, so washing up really does create a mountain. The starboard side seat has long since been buried beneath stuff and I am confined to a small corner port side, surrounded by stuff, as I tap way. My sleeping area has become a hovel into which I have to burrow. I really must soon return to the discipline of being on passage … iron rations, little sleep and everything in its place.
I have a neighbour, about whom I am worried. He arrived in a boat that sported Verdigris on various of its parts and a rusty screwdriver was jammed into the anchor winch. Ropes were generally short of a strand or three and if it was a car, I guess it would be a MOT failure. He popped over for a nervous chat and bemoaned the lack of a crew who had, it seemed deserted him. How was he going to get to Brixham, 50 leagues hence, on his own? How was he going to raise his sails, on his own? Did I have such problems?
No, I said as I didn’t have any crew … oh, says he, where had I sailed from – Poole? No, Guernsey I said truthfully … Ahhh! He said wandering off, muttering to himself ….. I was genuinely relieved to see a sailmaker arrive later to remove his sails, presumably for repair, and several people, none of whom appeared to have seen a boat before, arrived in the afternoon – so presumably he now does have a crew of sorts.
My mission is to make Salcombe to see my lovely cousin Sarah and husband Roger (also lovely). This involves a trip across Lyme Bay, no big deal but don’t think Vazon or Cobo; think Channel for this is about 65 nautical miles minimum, depending on the whims of the weather Gods and whether the Skipper gets things right. I plan to push on up river to moor in the ‘Bag’, close to Kingsbridge where Sarah resides. In terms of journey time, 12 hours would be a sensible budget, with the expectation of a few more if things don’t go to plan, which they often don’t. If they don’t, I could always return to Weymouth and take root …… I suspect I might pass my neighbour going in either direction, even though he plans to set out the day before.
Weather forecast is currently for NW F4/5 on Monday, which is great but it is a shame it couldn’t be pushing me, rather than fighting me.
Right now I am trying to persuade Mallam’s Restaurant, 50 yards hence, that they do have a table for the kids and I tomorrow evening.