Friday was the scheduled day for the Malts Team to assemble, David Noble and Ian Sheldon arriving by car from Caister (near Peterborough) that evening.  I went to Tesco for final food supplies for the week to come, came home and cooked a beef and vegetable casserole in the pressure cooker.  I got out the ready-strung signal flags (in the approved order, spelling no naughty words in any language, allegedly) and dressed Vega overall, including the 2012 Malts banner in addition to my 2007 ones, the South African flag for Cate, and the splendid flag with the ensigns of all the Celtic nations.  I did one load of washing, as it was such a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, and I hung the washing out to dry on the new guard rails, put my duvet to air over the boom, and settled down in the cockpit with my new book (a Michael Connolly) and my sunglasses, debating whether I should put sun screen on my legs or not: bliss! This what it's supposed to like in July.  Some 20 minutes later, as the first heavy drops hit me, I leapt up and retrieved everything, stuffing the duvet down the forward hatch, hanging the damp washing on the rails inside the cabin, and battening down the cockpit hatch.  It stopped soon after, and I took the ferry back to Oban and headed for Aulay's Bar again (I was now being recognised as a local) to watch Murray's Semi-final against Tsonga.  Shelly had called earlier with an ETA of 1800, and called again at exactly that time to say they were unloading their bags on the North Pier.  Murray was now two sets up, but Tsonga was coming back fighting in the third set, so I left my beer on the counter and hared off to fetch the boys to see the denouement!  As any fool kno, Murray won in the fourth set, and we happily made our way back, unpacked David's car again, and ferried to the marina, where we had our evening prayers (introducing the crew  to the outstanding quality of The Botanist Gin from Bruichladdich) followed by my equally outstanding beef casserole!  David and I entertained ourselves (and as it turned out, our neighbours) with guitar, vocal  and recorder renditions of folk and other songs, while Shelly kept his head down on his iPad, and eventually left us and went to his bunk!  Surprisingly, no whisky was consumed that night, though I amd sure that will be corrected in due course.  Tomorrow is preparation day for the Malts.