�� No surprises that Si was up early clog dancing while doing his chores! I tried burying my head under the pillow but it was no use, it was time I was up too. Slowly waking to the world wrapped in my sarong and sipping tea on deck I confess there was life on most of the boats by now. Phil and Linda had kindly offered to take our registration form into the town with theirs so Si rowed it over saving us probably half a day. We had other plans for our day.

�� Grabbing walking boots and swimming gear we took the dinghy ashore and parking it high up on the beach set off up the volcano. The vivid colours of the volcano and contrasting textures below our feet were of constant interest while we walked, as too were the lichen in many forms. �It was just as well the walk wasn�t too long as the sun had now burnt through the cloudy morning and high in the sky it was hot. A final brief scramble on crumbling lava took us to the top and a view to savour. Perched on a stone we hydrated looking over Brindabella and the other half dozen boats in our pretty anchorage. Waves bounded over rocks on the windward coast, the odd surfer and fisherman dotted here and there. The umpteen volcanoes over on Lanzarote faded into the distance. We watched boats leaving the harbour and marina a way down the coast and off the north-west coast had a fine look at the little islands we sailed between on our arrival. Peace reigned until from below the booming speaker from a pleasure boat shattered the calm. With constant commentary they rounded the headland and headed straight for our lovely anchorage. We watching in horror as the yachts rolled around from the wash as they barged through, swimmers taking cover back on their yachts. Tourists were shipped ashore and canoes unloaded and with great relief they all headed towards the town. Phew! Our plans had not included a beach full of tourists.

�� Coming down was quicker without inspections of rocks, lichen, lizards and plants. We took a different route near the base and circled back to the beach where clothes didn�t seem a necessity for most. Back by the dinghy I was in my bikini in seconds and just about to take a dip when another pleasure boat arrived using my sandy carpet to the sea as a slipway to ship more tourists ashore. Luckily they too were gone as quickly as they arrived and peaceful again I was in. All this time poor Simon was standing on the beach with swimmers in hand about to drop his shorts. We wallowed in the clear blue water, so welcome after the heat of the rocks. I tried to burn as many calories as I could breast-stroking one way then crawling another but fear my attempts were not in balance with the amount of alcohol and food I�ve been consuming. Speaking of which I suddenly remembered we had guests arriving later. Simon did all he could to assist my weight concerns and when I said I�d row back to Brindabella rather than motor, he kindly had the engine running in reverse!!! I wondered why I wasn�t getting far!

�� We deflated the dinghy ready for our departure in the morning then prepared for our guests. We had invited Phil and Linda from Festina Lente, Uda and Regina our Swiss friends from Cap d�Or and John and Joice another ARC double-hander from Fair Encounter for drinks. I made a big tray of facaccia with olives, garlic with rosemary, and sundried tomato with basil which was bad timing for the gas bottle to run out. Luckily there were plenty of other contributions to soak up the wine until Si changed the bottle and it finally cooked. We had a lovely evening all the more interesting in that Joice and John�s son used to own Festina Lente: The world gets smaller!

�� Simon was cautious tonight and with only a couple of beers kept well. J

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