20 November 2014
The arrival of the full crew complement for the Atlantic crossing.  And so, the crew of three -- Bill, Denis and Steve -- celebrate the arrival of Stuart and Bruce.  This is the dream team. Or not, depending on your perspective.

Stuart, by his own admission, knows very little about sailing and arrives as a glorified tea boy and provider of occasional light relief (in his own mind at least). Bruce brings his Trinidadian take on leadership.  This seems to involve speaking in a loud Welsh accent.  Bruce is a focused man.  On the plane to Tenerife he managed to invest in pork belly futures, acquire a Polish company, haul five of his staff over burning coals, and finish a novel he was reading. Meanwhile, Stuart slept.  The story of their lives.

There is not much room in the cabin. Vegetables hang over a bunk.  Every boating orifice is stuffed full with cans of food and the African couscous harvest.  The menu is being developed today. Michelin stars are not anticipated.

Meanwhile, there is the pleasure of discovering the curious and useful attachments and additions which have been made to the mighty Wandering Dream.  Around the stove there is a rope which allows you to cook with two hands rather than desperately hanging on. It resembles a 1950s exercise device for the woman in the kitchen who has everything or nearly everything.

Sleeping on board is fraught with unusual challenges.  Bruce delighted in putting his pole in Bill's face to bring an end to his snoring. The pole has a nautical use as well but this is unclear.  Meanwhile, Stuart was playing footsie with Denis while the captain delighted in the pleasure of his own company in his luxuriously appointed cabin complete with ensuite bathroom, piped music, champagne on tap and the purring ship's cat lying on specially designed ocelot hide.

Now for the big challenges: buying enough food for five grown men to survive on for three weeks.

Readers of the Wandering Dream blog will be pleased to now that the big toilet roll challenge has been sorted out.  Working on average consumtpion of one toilet roll per person per week a stash of 40 toilet rolls are now on board.  This should allow us to survive a mass outbreak of dysentry or a much longer voyage.