Groundhog Day

Early on a calm and sunny Friday morning in mid May, we were welcomed back to the boatyard by the wonderful team of Graham, Trevor and James who expertly manoeuvred us into the slings for the third time in as many weeks and hoisted Cerulean out before lifting her into a cradle located close to the slipway.   Since our last visit the yard had been cleared of the majority of the other boats with just a few left to be launched.   The G7 forum was taking place in Cornwall in early June and several large spaces had been commandeered by the organisers to cater for the huge media contingency expected for the three day event.   The boatyard was one of these spaces and all boats needed to be cleared by the 28 May so preparations could be completed for when the delegates arrived ten days later.   Graham was under pressure to not only meet this deadline, but meet it early so work to transform the boatyard could commence.  

The new gearbox had arrived so we left Gary to get to work removing the one currently installed.   The new one had been delivered unpainted, so it was sprayed red (to match our engine) and left to dry, ready to be fitted the following Monday.   We spent the night on the boat in the empty boatyard waking up early to eagerly greet the security guard who was unlocking the toilet block, desperately willing him to move faster!  

I left Steve working on the boat while I jumped on a train and headed to Truro to meet Jocs, Tina and Andrew, friends/family who were down from London visiting friends for the weekend.   I hadn’t met Sally and her husband, Peter, before but had heard a lot about them over the years, so was really pleased to finally get to see them in their beautiful home.   It felt so good to be able to catch up with friends again after such a long period of isolation, particularly as I had hoped that our extended stay in the UK meant we would see more of them and our other friends.

Bea and Andy had left earlier that day to drive to Liverpool, catch a ferry to Northern Ireland and spend time with their daughter and grandchildren.   They had left Lilian and Turki in charge of the house, garden and chickens for the month they were away so we decided to keep them company for a few days and enjoy a couple of nights on solid ground.   Lilian and Turki are from Palestine and we loved getting to know them over our few days together, particularly as the renewed fighting between Israel and Palestine was escalating and we were able to learn more about what life is like living in such a conflicted region.  It made us appreciate our privileged lives even more, particularly when hearing of the daily challenges, racism and obstacles this beautiful young couple endured and still grapple with.   Bea and Andy have given them a fantastic opportunity to make a life together in Cornwall and they deserve success and happiness.  

Turki made us a special lunch one day of beautiful breads and a feast of Eastern delicacies which we devoured greedily, loving the flavours and textures of each dish which he had effortlessly produced.   I think they found our dinner offerings very bland in comparison to the amazing flavours of their cooking!

We were heading back to the boat on Monday afternoon, our bags bulging with clean laundry, leftovers from lunch and on-line shopping deliveries, when the phone rang.    There was a problem with the new gearbox and a fault had been discovered which meant a new one needed to be ordered from Beta and wouldn’t arrive until the next day so our splash date would be delayed until Wednesday at the earliest!   Feeling despondent we returned with Turki and Lilian for another night off the boat.  

A storm was forecast for Thursday morning which meant that any problems with the gearbox being fitted by Wednesday mid-day would delay our re-launch until the following Monday.   We spent Tuesday night on the boat with the hope of an early launch on Wednesday morning but when it became evident this was not going to happen, we left the boat clear to allow uninterrupted access to the engine bay so the work could be completed while we strolled into town and then to our favourite café, Muddy Beach.   We had become regulars at the café and the wonderful staff always welcomed us like old friends, delivering our coffee to the table before we’d even ordered it and preparing delicious food from their great menu.   As we left we said a fond farewell to them all, as we believed this would be our last visit before we start our journey south.  

On our return the gearbox was in place and we were ready to be re-launched with huge expectations this would be the final obstacle to overcome in the long saga of our engine refit.   Graham and his team arrived to hoist us at 1pm, already 2hrs after high water, which did not give us much time to test out the new gearbox.   It was with some trepidation we started the engine and revved her up in neutral and then in gear.  We were all looking at the rev counter to see whether we could get above the 1800 revs we were stuck on at previous attempts to confirm the engine would achieve maximum load and propel us at the top speed.    It failed, again.   We were all devastated. While letting this slowly sink in and try to understand what would happen next, we were firmly reminded that the tide was going out fast, and we would need to leave the slipway now to make it safely down the river.    As the enormity of this situation was being processed, we were pushed off the pontoon and motored back down the river to look for a safe place to shelter for a few nights until the strong winds abated.  

Our first call was to Richard.  He had come to see us while we were on the boat and had taken measurements and angles of the prop in order to gather as much information as possible, in case there was a problem (legend!).  That information would proof invaluable as we tried to unpick what had, was and would be happening to resolve this frustrating situation.    The definition of madness is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results, so before adjusting the prop again, we wanted to make sure there was no other possible cause of this lack of engine power as it seemed everyone was solely focused on the prop being the issue.  Richard was wonderful and agreed to accept the challenge of piecing together what had happened and assess the whole situation before jumping to any conclusions.    

Steve collected Richard in the dinghy from nearby Malpas during a break between rain and strong winds.  He immediately started systematically going through and checking each part of the motor – fuel, air, water, cables, aquadrive ……   we were really hoping for something definitive, something that could be switched/pumped/crimped/tightened/cleaned but there was nothing that stood out.   We had noticed a wobble in the aquadrive (a flexible link between the engine and propellor shaft) as we were powering up and Richard felt this could be something to address but was not 100% sure this would resolve our lack of power issue.   With no immediate solution it was decided we would be hauled out the following Wednesday for what we hoped would be the final time to try and resolve things, once and for-all.  With time ticking away, and only one week until our final Covid vaccine, things were really coming down to the wire to try and resolve this problem before we left.

The strong winds continued to buffer us for five days and we moved from our safe protected mooring on the Truro River and returned to Falmouth as Richard had arranged for us to have a marina berth from early Tuesday morning so he could tinker with the engine again on the Tuesday morning in a final attempt to avoid us being lifted out again on the Wednesday morning.   The strong winds blew unabated all night as we spun around our mooring buoy infront of Shadowfax, our sister boat, with Tim and Emmie on board who were preparing to leave for The Scilly Isles at the earliest opportunity.  

In the morning we headed to Port Pendennis marina and carefully berthed in a very tight space, squeezing in between Super Yachts and expensive cruisers as we nervously negotiated the strong winds and tide in the small berth we had been allocated.   After a hot shower, coffee and a full load of washing done, Richard arrived and started work.  His head was buried in the engine compartment most of the day as the rain continued to beat down and the howling of the wind occasionally broken with a shout of triumph, despair or bewilderment until the alignments were completed.   Every day we spend with Richard we learn more about his many talents and skills.  We feel so privileged and lucky to have met him and had him work on our boat – he loves a challenge and we presented him with a few that he accepted with relish!  

The next day we were woken by the noise of a big boat arriving in port.  The sound of the engines reverberated through our cabin as our bed is just below the waterline.   A large cruise ship, The Viking Venus, was arriving in Falmouth on its first cruise since the start of the pandemic.  

Richard arrived early (for once!) and we cast off, celebrating the light winds and overcast skies as we headed out into the bay to put the engine through its paces and see what was, and was not, behaving as expected.    The result was positive – a definite improvement and our first encouraging sign that things were moving in the right direction at last! 

We dropped Richard off at the marina and anchored nearby with the intention of waiting until the tide turned so we could fill our tanks with diesel in preparation for our departure to Spain the following week.   While we were waiting, we were given the option of being hauled out that evening for relaunch in the morning instead of first thing in the morning, so the pitch of the propellor could be adjusted one last time.    Wanting to get everything sorted as quickly as possible, we jumped at the opportunity and started preparing the boat for yet another hoist.   There was little wind and we were quite relaxed on the anchor as we slowly put things away enjoying the quiet and sedate pace…. Until we heard the faint sound of running water.   On lifting the engine compartment we found a lot of water in the bilge and more coming in (note to self, why was the bilge alarm not working??), even though we had turned off all the through hull fittings but where was it coming from?        We discovered the culprit was a hose that was lying in the bottom of the bilge, spurting water as if a tap had been left running on a garden hose.   We urgently tried to find out where the other end of this hose was connected, pulling up carpets and flooring in our desperate attempt to stop the water.   Eventually, having managed to stop the water by holding the hose upright, we slowly made our way back up the river to be hauled out while pondering on how close we had been, yet again, to loosing our boat, home and dreams…….