19122011 Chicken

After a morning of pottering about Peter takes to walking  while Lars and I bike into town in search of a “Hole in the Wall” to get cash for our

imminent Diesel purchase, some waterproofing spray for our recently laundered jackets, and a Chicken.

But first we stop in the “Office” for Lunch, a beer and a Blog session on the now working Internet link.

It’s a nice sunny day as we make our way up the hill to the main shopping street. We leave the bikes outside the Town Hall, and search for the Bank on foot,

then into one of the bigger “Sports” shops where we find our spray.

Back on the bikes down the hill onto the main road, we head for the supermarket. As we pass the Aerolineas Argentinas office I decide to go and pay for my ticket

as it’s just re-opened at four and it may be quite. While Lars carries on I park the bike and to my consternation the office if full to overflowing.

Undeterred I pick a queue ticket to find I’m number 63 and their on 44!

Patience is rewarded and just before they close at 5 extra staff appears and I’m directed to a room at the rear of the counter.

Here a very helpful English speaking young lady hears my tale of woe and sorts out my ticket with instructions to give me full international travel baggage allowance

on the “local” leg of the flight from Ushuaia to Buenos Aires.

Just hope it works as the local allowance is one bag of 20kg compared with 2 bags of 23kg internationally!

Returning to base a chicken the size of a Turkey sits on the worktop. “The smallest they had” says Lars. We reckon it’s about 5lbs+ and is cooked on that basis.

Peter makes a nice sauce for the Leeks and I enquire about “Gravy?”

I set about spraying my jacket whereupon its freshly laundered scent is replaced by the smell of petro-chemicals, as it’s given a liberal application of waterproofing agent.

At the call to dinner it’s considered to smelly to be brought in and is left outside to dry and hopefully lose some of its potency. 

So with roast potatoes and carrots, leeks in a white sauce, chicken breast and gravy we all tuck in, accompanied by a selection from our newly stocked wine cellar.

The rest was a bit underdone as we’d evidently under calculated the weight of the bird and the heat of the oven so it’s returned for another session. 

20122011 Repairs

1000 and the men of welding appears with their trolley loaded with equipment. Their soon cutting off the bent stanchion and as it’s free the top rail spring back up

to its correct height. After a bit of trial trying to get it out the deck mount it’s free and the new one, cut to fit, is being welded in place.

                            Cutting away                                                                  Bent bit

After polishing up the weld the whole job is over within a couple of hours and a very neat job it is.

At Pesos 450 we reckon good value for money and hope that the skipper of the S/Y Vagamali that hit us also thinks so!

                   TIG-welding                                                        The new bit

Through the wonderful offices of Roxanna she organises transport and empty 40gallon fuel drums for us to purchase our 800 litres.

We have been cleaning out the “Gas Locker” in the morning. It’s pretty grotty as the drain holes have become blocked allowing it to fill with water and the

small metal gas containers have rusted contributing to the mess.

Lars has to clear out the main deck locker to access and take apart the blocked plumbing while I manhandle to hosepipe to flush them out.

In the meantime we get the call that the truck on its way to pick up Peter, the drums and our gas bottle we want to refill at the same time.

We get chatting to a “biker” on the dock who is making enquires about Skip Novak (Well known for Antarctic expeditions over many years) and when he and his boat are arriving.

He is John Brinkers, a Dutchman who lives in Southampton, who is a sail maker.

                 Johns dictionary                                                           Rented bike.

Having hired a motorbike in Buenos Aires he has ridden the 3500 kilometres from there to Ushuaia and regales us with tales of the trip.

When queried on his linguist skills he produces a piece of paper with some half dozen phrases on it in Spanish which he assures us was all he needed get by!! 

Peter and fuel arrive dropped off by the club. Now the fun starts as we have to trolley the drums down the jetty to “Dawnbreaker.”

After some considerable effort if not risk to life and limb all four drums are alongside and we break to regain our strength with lunch and a beer.

                Diesel delivered                                                    Out on the Jetty

There is a Polish yacht alongside us who very kindly lend us their hand pump (Better than sucking and siphoning!) and we take it turns of a barrel each to wind

the pump for the 25 minutes it takes to empty one barrel. Eventually it’s all transferred and its time to turn our attention that other barrel hanging astern, curtsey of the Beagle Brewery.

                 The pump assembled                                          Pumping away   

By now the mountains are disappearing as low blackening clouds descend over their peaks. Then the thunder starts followed by rain.

The heaters turned on and we retire to happy hour, dinner and our books

                     Rain is coming

Bob the Blog