Chantier Naval des Iles
The engine alarm has been rectified. It wasn't the oil-pressure sender or the guage. It was a loose-fitting bulb in the control-panel which was causing a short. The bowthruster has re-joined the ocean of the living. It wasn't the mcb on the motor or my suspected water damage (pace Sam of Wishanger), it was a small nick some way along one of the cables to the control unit. Full marks to Cyprien of CNI for his logical and patient diagnosis. The replacement parts that I've brought out from Lymington stay unopened in the spares locker. Matthew, how could we sail two oceans without spare fuses for the engine fuse-box? (We have some now, which should ensure that we don't need one). Thierry of CNI has serviced the mechanics. Regine has stiched the torn luff-tape on the yankee. Karin is preparing my final bill, I'll leave that for the cool light of tomorrow morning.
The boat is full of pate de campagne, rillettes de porc and all those healthy delicacies that you get only on a French island. I thought about a bottle of Pernod in honour of Job de G, but then common sense reasserted itself. The cabin basket is loaded with fruit.
There isn't much wind at the moment and it's from the SW. Bob Macpherson, my new weather-router in New Zealand, tells me that this is being caused by a passing depression and that the SE Trades should be back on stream by Sunday. So the plan is to escape from the yard tomorrow Thursday, run up to Bora Bora (27 miles) for a trial trip, and be ready to hit the blue by Saturday.
Best wishes to all, Donald.