The French have a lovely word for it – “peaufiner” – to refine, polish or put the finishing touches to something. And it has been such a pleasure to be able to carry this out on our boat at a leisurely pace, having time to do things properly. To me, this a new phenomenon…
Because it isn’t always like that – working a boat is an exercise in constant maintenance. With our old boat we would finish the season at the end of September after six months of non-stop work, crane her out of the water, winterise everything, and then walk away without a backward glance for at least three months. During which time if anyone even mentioned boats there would be trouble….
Come the spring and the poor old girl would slowly come to mind, with reluctance at first, then with a growing sense of responsibility and urgency. The work plan would kick in, parts and services ordered, and a work blitz would be underway. Around Easter we’d begin to think that going out on the water again might be OK, and just before the launch date we’d be eagerly looking forward to the new season. And the whole mad cycle would begin once again.
With our new boat, we knew that there would be many items to finish off, but, of course, thought that this would take no time at all. How can you be so dumb? We’re just about there now, one year on, but in a funny kind of way it has been worth it, despite the delays.
Last year was a struggle in any case, even working flat out to be ready for our first season, and, with hindsight, we set ourselves a far too ambitious set of goals. A couple of broken ribs on my part, getting married, an avalanche of work for Lou, and renting out our house, all contributed to delaying our put paid plans temporarily, and things slipped, and slipped.
Overwintering in France gave us the opportunity to mentally “leave” the places we’d previously called home – we were off, although not far away. It also allowed me plenty of time to really get to grips with all of the little jobs that needed doing, and to complete the installation of newer items. And for once it was a pleasure – no crazy deadlines, no last minute madness chasing suppliers, and very few things (!) forgotten. For the first time in living memory the list of jobs has got shorter. I keep thinking, surely, I must have forgotten something…
Back in Falmouth we have been able to get the last few jobs completed, with many thanks to the excellent support network of skilled and dependable craftsmen that have supported us for so many years. And I’ve finished off the last of the jobs on the list today, and all that is left to do is to clean the boat from stem to stern, and we’re about ready to go.
It has been such a pleasure to work at a human pace once more. All the years of manic activity, readying the boat for the season have been put into perspective. There’s no question that the enforced delay to our departure has been a benefit, in that I’ve actually enjoyed getting the boat ready for once (although Lou would rightly state that I hadn’t appreciated certain times when I couldn’t get certain spare parts, or installed items appeared to be hardly “installed” at all… more in the next blog). It is also the case that being able to take the time and do the jobs properly means that the work has (perhaps) been carried out more thoroughly and with far greater attention to detail than might otherwise have been the case. And, finally, it has enabled me to get to know the boat inside out, vital if you are planning long distance sailing to out of the way places. It has certainly helped build our confidence in her and in ourselves aboard her.
There is also another side to this, the human side. Many years ago, my friends Jeff and Jose Allen were about to set off on a round the world trip aboard their trimaran, “Dink’s Song”. Jeff having built her with his own hands and then sailed her for the equivalent of some three circumnavigations knew more than a thing or two, and I was, as so often before, picking his brains. Why was it that so many people set off on the big trip and then gave up the life in no time at all? Jeff said that in his view, many people pushed too hard to start with and simply didn’t allow themselves time to decompress down to “life in the slow lane”. If they could make it through the first year after a lifetime of deadlines and also the last minute complexities and hassles of the departure, then he reckoned they’d make it. And then after a year or two “you could warm your hands on them”- what a lovely description.
So, our 2008 false start might well prove to be a good thing in more ways than one. We’ve been able to put the finishing touches to Pelerin properly, and, to some degree, slow down and fine-tune ourselves. Without that break I might never have regained my enthusiasm for sailing in the way that I have now, and Lou and I have had time to settle into the life aboard, to the extent that we both can’t imagine living ashore again for the foreseeable future. For instance, Lou is convinced that “land” is highly over-rated. In a few days time we’ll leave Falmouth once more, setting off north for Scotland; we’re ready, Pelerin is ready, and all three of us just can’t wait to get going!
