Splash day at last!

Winter turned into spring and as the trees burst into leaf and gardens filled with beautiful colour and bird song, we continued our daily trip to the dusty boatyard.   On 28 March the “stay at home” order was lifted and the boatyard became a hive of activity as people visited their boats for the first time in months.   We had watched one of our neighbouring boats transform through several shades of green as the deck, canvas and ropes slowly got covered in mould. 

As launch day grew closer it became clear there was still a lot of unfinished work left to do and we were not going to get everything finished.  The weather, although improving, was still cold and the thought of moving back on board without a heater, with the night temperatures still in the low single digits, was not something we were looking forward to!    After talking to our electrician, Richard, and the boatyard, we decided to delay launching by a week, which would give us more time to finish the jobs and thoroughly check all the new systems.   Rushing to launch when there was no need and risk having issues once we were on the water, was unnecessary and took pressure off us and Richard to finish.

The new date was set for Thursday 8 April and we felt relieved as soon as we had given ourselves the extra breathing space!   Understanding the new deadline, Richard then worked flat out to finish the electrics while Steve started work installing the heater so it was ready for Richard to do the final wiring and installation.   

The delay in launching meant we had a few more precious days with Bea and Andy.  The four of us were invited to a lovely BBQ at friends of theirs, William and Louise, who we have really enjoyed getting to know, snatching at the opportunity to meet up each time restrictions allow!   Bea and I went on a very long walk over Easter, bumping into Pete, another old friend of Bea and Andy’s, as he took a dip in the cold Atlantic Ocean with his daughter!   On Easter Friday we organised a fun treasure hunt, hiding surprises in Bea and Andy’s big garden and making up cryptic clues as they tried to work out where the treasure was hidden!  The weather improved a little and we took our new inflatable kayak out for a test paddle to Helford River. Also over Easter we arranged to meet Phil Collings who built Cerulean over 25 years ago.  We had been communicating with Phil for a few months so we were really pleased to finally meet him and learn more about our beautiful home.

Our second launch day crept closer and closer.  Richard worked long hours on our electrics, with the occasional “Eureka!” moment when he worked out why something was (or wasn’t) behaving as expected.   Steve’s anxiety levels grew each day and we had discussions about whether we would be ready to launch on 8 April, as scheduled.   I remained positive and focused on making sure everything else we had control of was completed and the boat was as ready as she could be for us to move back on board.   Each day when we arrived we hoped we would find a noticeable difference in the work Richard was doing, but every day we arrived to the same mess of exposed wiring, tools stacked in the cabin and a disheveled looking Cerulean.   I tried cleaning around the piles of belongings, moving things from one corner of the boat to another so I could access and clean cupboards, bilges, walls and ceilings before carefully moving the mess back so I could start again in another area!   

Over the cold, damp winter mould had taken a grip and there seemed to be a constant battle as each day I would seek out and destroy any new or unseen patches.  Finding new locations for the mould made me feel almost triumphant as I freely sprayed vinegar on the unwanted guest. 

While I cleaned Steve and Richard identified the best location for “Tommy”, our diesel heater, and, with guidance from Richard, Steve then fitted it, traced all the wires, vents and exhaust leaving Richard to check his handy work, drill a whole in the stern for the exhaust, and complete the wiring. 

The day before launch day we hired a van and packed it with all our worldly goods, plus a few other things, and drove to the boatyard.   Our wonderful carpenter, Kyle, who made our cockpit grating and helped repair some of the teak toerail, arrived to complete a last minute request to do some cosmetic wizardry and, on surveying the mess, asked if we were moving in or off the boat as it was such a mess …..   that was before we started unloading the van!    

Steve and I carried, climbed, hauled, pushed and shoved everything onto Cerulean from the van.   As we squeezed past Richard and Kyle (while still trying to keep a safe distance apart), I wondered how we could have accumulated so much stuff in just 12 months!    The saloon was still looking like a bombsite, so everything had to be piled onto our bed or the passage berth until Richard had finished the electrics.

Bea picked us up when we dropped off the hire van, took Steve back to the boat while we returned to the house so I could clean and tidy the upstairs room that we had made our home for the last six months.   I felt quite sad with the realisation that our special time with Bea and Andy was coming to an end and our covid family bubble was finally being burst.

Bea and Andy prepared a wonderful celebrational meal of fresh oysters followed by a delicious baked fish and washed down with some rosé wine given me by my beautiful friend in NZ, Kim. 

At last launch day had arrived.  I stocked the fridge and cupboards while Steve did a few jobs in the boat.   Peter, from Sailtech, delivered and installed our beautiful new sails.   He has been awesome to work with and get to know.  We gave away 30m of our old rusty anchor chain which was collected just after Graham, the Boatyard Manager, requested its removal – perfect timing.  Richard was still working furiously in the boat and Steve was getting more and more anxious asking, “Does this look like a boat that’s launching in a couple of hours?”  I asked him “what does a boat that’s launching in a couple of hours look like?” but received a blank stare in response.   My philosophy was once we get afloat we can sort things but it’s not worth getting too upset about it until then.  I knew we had a lot of work to do, but it was achievable and we just needed to keep the end goal in sight. 

Graham arrived and started putting Cerulean in the hoist, ready to move her towards the water.   We ran around the cabin like worker bees in a hive stowing, moving, securing and clearing while Richard continued to calmly work away.  Tommy the heater was now operational as were most of the electronics with only a few head-scratching issues to resolve.   Richard packed his tools and left the boat while Steve and I quickly painted antifoul on the areas we were unable to reach while Cerulean was in her cradle.   When it was time to move I remained on the boat as we were slowly lowered into the water, checking all the through hull fittings to make sure there were no leaks.   Gary, who fitted our new engine, was waiting for us on the pontoon and started work immediately on commissioning the motor.   When he turned the key the engine purred into life and the memories of our old, smelly, dirty and noisy motor faded away.    The 2hr commissioning stopped abruptly when Gary discovered the pitch (angle) of the propellor was out and this meant the engine was revving too low when in gear.  To adjust the angle of the propellor meant hauling us out again and, as the hoist was booked solid for the rest of the week, this was not possible immediately.   Graham came to see us and said he would try hard to fit us in one day the following week.  Until then we could use the engine, as long as we were gentle with her, staying close to Falmouth.   As he helped us cast the lines, Graham offered us his mooring for the night and we happily motored down the river, picking up his mooring just off the main harbour in Falmouth.

We poured ourselves a celebrational sundowner each as we surveyed the peaceful surroundings of the bay, happy to be back on board –  until we remembered the chaos we needed to sort out below before we could go to bed! 

Exhausted but happy, we collapsed into bed after a lovely meal and felt at peace as all the pressure of the last few days/weeks/months slowly drift away with the outgoing tide. I’m happy we couldn’t see what was around the corner, as we probably wouldn’t have felt quite so relaxed…..!