Sunday, 11 May 2014

To the edge of our capacity. 

What can I say, I made another hopeless miss-judgment. On Friday morning Jenny (my wife) and I decided over coffee to camp on the boat that night with the kids and hopefully have a sail Saturday morning. The forecast for the Saturday morning was flat carm with a fresh  wind from SES, but it would be raining. I agreed feeling it would be a good rehearsal for a longer stays in the future in better weather and a short sail in the cold and wet might be exilirating before returning home to the wood stove and hot soup.....

Well, we spent most of the afternoon packing before picking up the kids from school stopping on the way to the boat for their tennis lessons and arriving in Eyemouth 645 pm, super in a bar restaurant, all ok so far, but everyone already tired from a full week and late tea. Now at 750 pm, now 50 mins past the kids bed time, we unload a lot of stuff from the truck and a our wee tender giggle from the roof bars. All hard work with two tired kids who with out the promise of some fun that evening in their beloved giggle were showing signs of grumpy bottom lip trouble. Oh and I forgot to mention our dog BT, who of course needs tender loving care attention and toilet stops and walks in between presedings, delaying progress effortlessly. Satire is ok to laugh at but to be the performance is another matter, but it was ok because in my mind this was all good practice at pushing the comfort zones in safe and familiar waters.

Getting on the boat was ok, getting all the gear and bedding ok, toileting the dog, washing and bushing teeth all ok, but we are all getting tired and mum and dads patients is wearing thin with the children show intermittent signs of over excitement and exhaustion at 930 pm. After reading out loud several chapters of Swallows and Amazons we all full asleep.

Early hours of the morning it's raining.... 6 am skipper reviews the few minor leaks in the deck that drip down and make the sleep kit damp and not good for a stay of more than one night, the unique pleasures of keeping an old wooden boat. 630am Fergus (my son) wakes full of fun, gusto and excitement. Just what mum and dad wanted so early, Fungus bounces round the inside of the confined interia like the cork in a whistle, the dog joining in with enthusiasm. Mum and dad still remain patiant and get up quick. Having forgotten the boom tent dad removes himself in wet weather gear to remain outside and walks the dog after getting the kettle on. Getting dressed inside the small boat full of gear, people and a dog is something that needs practice, and patiants that's why we were there. After cooking poradge eating it, cleaning up, visiting the loo and walking the dog we are ready to go for a sail. Freyja has had enough, she is wet after playing about out in the rain and refuses to put more cloths on in preparation to sit on deck in the driving cold rain and wind for a quick sail. Decision made, she is not named the Admiral for nothing. So we are very tired and the boat needs emptying of kit and tidying up in the gray rain. The tender dragged up the slip way and hefted on to the roof bars by two very tired parents, the kids and the dog wet through and exhausted. We drive home and and unpack and hang to dry all the kit, Saturday is a right-off, bar quiet reflection and out breaks of anarchy from the kids who are in perminent bottom lip mode.

We will keep trying, I read and feel slightly consoled by a comment in a running magazine, 'reaching your limit of exhaustion gives you confidence'. Well we certainly practiced reaching our limit in the right place, the harbour.... My skippering skills seem to be improving, but, when will we all feel a sense of reward and achievement together? We won't without trying.

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