The day the music died

Bardeau returns across Atlantic
Robert Bard
Wed 22 Aug 2012 07:39
First the nautical bit. We are 42:30.80w 006:52..10W In plain English we are nearly half way across the Bay of Biscay. I would like to jack up the street cred by telling all that we are in a Force11, battling every inch of the way, and making lots of oooh and aaah Cornish mariner type noises. Unfortunately it's so flat calm out there you could balance a coin on the saloon table. It's glassy calm. We are surrounded by Portugese Men of War. The Jelly Fish that is...the other type had to stop being nasty when we got embroiled with the EU. The merry crew are wondering whether to postpone their mid-Biscay swim. I have left it up to them but pointed out that my dad was once stung and was non to amused. Anyway enough of the nautical stuff...the low-down on what's really happening on board the floating Esso Station formerly known as Sailing Yacht Bardeau. We've burned more fuel than the Space Shuttle getting this far...but the gribs(downloaded weather wotsits) are giving signs of hope with forecasts of 5 knots of wind later. Jill, (our Galley Bitch) fed us all baked beans and crumpets last night....so there will be some wind today. The reason is the lazy
B----r Aussie chef chose not to emerge from his cabin at 5.15 as instructed. I tapped my fingers patiently for 2 hours on the chart table, whilst reading 'Fifty Shades' and in the end Jill bleated she could make 'a Lancashire 'Ot Pot....bar tat...' We then settled on baked beans. Then as if it wasn't bad enough serving some of New Zealand's finest up with baked bl--dy beans the stereo unit went on the blink. No more Mozart Requiem...no more Verdi Requiem....no more Faure Requiem....and saddest of all, Brahm's Deutsches Requiem. A requiem to the ships music. I summoned a firemen...Steve...and asked if he had spent his youth snatching stereos out of cars....as this was now a needed skill in order to fit my spare. He looks a bit shady and my hopes were high. After 45 minutes struggling with screwdrivers, kitchen knives, and helped by some of the brigades finest he managed to fail miserably. So....itl ooks like entertainment will be Rebecca, the music teacher strumming on a guitar....or it would have been...but the silly ***** hasn't brought it with so all is deadly silent apart from the constant drone of the engine. Today may be an ice cream and bread day. Have yet to decide....decisions of this nature are not taken lightly.

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