Tinned peas have neveer been so much fun
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Mon 1 Nov 2010 19:10
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As Swiss Tony might have said, boats are like
beautiful women. And today, Summer Song got the compliment of her life. We've
had our fair share of keen eyed compatriots wandering up in various marinas and
saying something like: "Sadler 34, eh? Classic lines and famous sea-keeping
abilities? Oh yes..."
But a Yorkshireman we got talking to on the pontoon
asked how old the boat was. "She was built in 1986, which makes her 25 years
old," I told him. "Twenty-five," he spluttered. "She doesn't look a day over
five - she's in very good nick."
Now ignoring the obvious lack of tact involved in
discussing a woman's looks right in front of her, this seems like quite a
compliment. Most ladies yearning to look younger than their years would draw the
line well before five, but in boat years, that seems pretty kind.
Arthur, as we learned his name was, is sailing a
34-foot boat called Alison and doesn't really know where he's going. He's a
married man, but his wife doesn't enjoy sailing. So she stays in Scarborough and
lets him gallavant across the seven seas in Alison, sailing wherever the fancy
takes him. I asked him how long he would be at sea for and he said he had until
Christmas 'off'.
He also told an intriguing tale of a (probably very
famous) chap called Les Paulson, or something similar. He lived in Lymington and
took up a boat builder's offer to make his own Robertson 34, which he duly
launched one summer on the Town Quay. Instructed by the builder to move the boat
over to a mooring, Les was forced to admit that he'd never been on a boat before
in his life and hadn't a clue how to do the first thing onboard. One week later
he set off for the Caribbean by himself, having only paused to learn the
rudiments of using the sextant to fix a position.
The mere rudiments were soon shown up as he crossed
the Atlantic, believing himself to be making a landfall in the Windward islands.
He ran into a sandbank out of sight of land and later discovered that he had
been making his way up the Amazon river delta - a few thousand miles south of
his supposed position.
Anyway, we had a good day today, purchasing almost
all of the food that is going to keep us going across the Atlantic. It was a
duntingly large shop, but we wnated to take advantage of cloudy, uninspiring day
and the surprisingly well stocked 'Pingo Doce' supermarket here. We spent a
shade over €300, which doesn't seem like bad going for six weeks worth of tinned
food. The problem has been stowing it all. We've run out of room under the
floorboards in the bilges. My clothes have been evicted by no fewer than 16
packets of Oreo cookies and 10 packets of cereal.
Find of the day goes to me, with stuffed squid
mantles in tins. Could be a belting special-treat starter for the crossing. Also
of note is the €2 steak sandwich in garlic butter that I've discovered at one of
the cafes in town.
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