I woke optimistic with the high pressure promised. It continued to blow. We decided to cycle into Weymouth for a spot of provisioning and lunch. It really is a fantastic route along the Rodwell Trail, an old train track that skirts the harbour rising up to the fort or dropping into the town. We took a different route today which took us through shady tunnels of trees and conveniently ended right at a supermarket. We topped up with perishables in the hope that a weather window will great us in Falmouth and we can zip straight off again. We have found one big problem with our bikes however. Despite the sturdiest of locks we could find, neither of us like leaving them. We folded them up, put them in trolleys and took them in with us. Unfortunately we couldn’t really do the same for lunch and the marina had asked us to move the boat as a rally had booked our berth, so we shot back to the marina at great knots going down hill with the wind behind us. Wonderful!
No surprises – it was still blowing a hooly! We waited and waited but as the time drew nearer to Si’s train departure I became increasingly concerned about keeping the boat off the pontoon as we reversed out of the berth. I suggested we ask for muscle power to be sent down from the office. To my delight not only did a hunky member of staff arrive but he also told us we didn’t have to move. J I wondered if that was his intention before he saw Brindabella’s fenders squashed into the dock and saw just how blowy and choppy it is way over here. We tied all the lines again.
Si set off late in the afternoon and I got to work, first finishing my bike bag, then sorting my provisions lists. I dug out an array of dried condiments and made a trial ‘rough conditions couscous mix’ for my tea which would do in desperation but could have been much better. Why is dried stock either full of MSG or salt? With a bottle of water to hand I commenced more sorting on my laptop. It was a very late night.