Christmas at Nelsons Dockyard
After anchoring and a first visit from Caroline and Mia,
we went ashore to check in. On the way back to our boat, we went to Voyageur to
see David and Susan who had arrived on Monday night, wisely waiting outside until first
light, before entering the bay and dropping an anchor. Needless to say, after a
difficult passage from
Back on our boat, we received a call from John on
Tzigane; they had spent the night at
Staying overnight at
We had booked a berth for Tzigane, several days before they arrived but despite that, they had to hang around for almost two hours, while a space was made available for them. The Dock manager insisted he wasn’t aware that a berth had been reserved for them and the office supervisor hotly denied that this was the case. Eventually, all was well, apologies made and accepted; boat washed down and decorated for Christmas. By 6.30 it was time to relax. David and Susan, Dick and I joined John and Jenny on board for drinks and then we all walked to Trappas for an excellent dinner.
Next morning, Christmas day, we met our friends on the
dockside where we all enthusiastically supported the local tradition, purchasing
and consuming countless bottles of champagne. Bands were playing, people were
milling around. We met lots of new folk, became reacquainted with sailors, some
of whom had been long known by all four of our friends. We were joined by Sean
and Sophie, engaged to be married that very morning, who had been captain and
crew on board Wild Tigris, one of the WARC boats which participated 2010/2011.
They were now crewing on another boat which was currently moored here. Wild
We had booked a table for seven people at the Copper and Lumber hotel, where we partook of a buffet lunch. Despite being fairly restrained for about three hours, Mia behaved brilliantly.
Boxing Day all seven of us ate a traditional Christmas, turkey lunch on board Tucanon. Everybody contributed to the meal and once again Mia behaved well, even though she was even more restricted than the previous day. This year we didn’t play charades. I am not sure how we managed that.
Thursday is the evening to visit
It seems to rain most days but mainly at night. A couple of times we have had a short, heavy shower during the day which gets us rushing to shut the hatches before the beds get soaked. The wind blew up again on Friday and another catamaran which arrived earlier that day was in danger of hitting us. With the wind blowing from all directions, the boats not attached to the hurricane chain, turning 360º, to the extent of their own anchor chain, the captain of the other boat couldn’t understand what was going on. Here, with his wife and children for a holiday, they lacked experience in these conditions.
“Are you sure your anchor isn’t dragging?” asked the wife.
“Quite sure,” was Dick’s response, he had already swum down and checked the anchor.
Some hours later, about to retire for the night, Dick was doing his last check of the evening. The menacing catamaran, with an engine running, was a metre away from our stern quarter.
“I shall stay up all night if necessary”, said the captain, “I won’t hit your boat”.
Why don’t these people put themselves out of harms way during daylight hours, we ask ourselves, why wait until it is dark, when everything appears to be more threatening?