The Mullans and Mullingtons out for dinner in Roadtown

Amazingly tomorrow is the last day of Tom and Hazel’s visit, the week flew by, and so far it’s been a fair success. Boats are small places, or at least ours is, so we were both keen to make it feel as spacious as is possible, utilising the cockpit and decks, and our own personal playground the sea. Lots of snorkelling, BBQs in the cockpit and a few walks onshore. The BVIs have proven to be the perfect sailing location for visitors, an abundance of beautiful protected anchorages short sailing distances apart, making each day a simple 1-3 hour passage that ends just in time for lunch or evening drinks depending on our departure time.

Tom and Hazel swimming off the boat

It’s been great to get back to some sailing, and introduce the rents to our life afloat. Old Tomo slotted in on the helm like 40 years had never passed since Granda Bob built him his first wooden dinghy (he wished). Mum settled in to life aboard with a small deposit in a bucket on our first passage, before getting her sea legs and taking to life in the cockpit rather well. Nothing like a pill once a day to toughen their constitution when you’re stuck, they narrowly missed having to resort to our suppositories, their stash ran out today.

Hazel at the helm

It’s a challenge to fit a year’s worth of parental spoiling into one week, but we’ve had a good crack at it with some great meals out and trips to the chandlers and supermarket!

There have of course been some comedy moments in keeping with the Mullan tradition. Tomo did an excellent impression of one much less gifted in entering a dinghy from the water, and Hazel’s legs developed Turrets at the moment her feet were adorned with flippers. Not sure we’ve quite hooked them on snorkelling just yet, but gallant efforts have been made.

Tom on the helm

Anzuelo has definitely been the one who’s gone out of his way to extend a good old Mullington welcome. On day one he shat on dad’s swimming shorts, and he’s managed to piss on mum’s bed three times since their arrival. The common denominator is the colour yellow, so we’re hopeful that a life of magnolia will cure his ails. He’s by no means a permanent member of crew just yet, more like one misplaced function away from inclusion in the next load of laundry.

Tomorrow they head to for Barbados for a week of resort relaxation and we get down to thinking about our next move. At this stage it’s likely to be Luperon, but we’re talking to people here to see if there’s any work around. It would certainly be nice to be free to take breaks in these anchorages with ease during the hurricane season, weather permitting.

Beannacht at anchor in Savannah Bay

Kel and dad winched me up the mast yesterday to take down our radar reflector which had broken loose en route to San Juan. It had been flapping overhead attached by two of its four strings for a while causing considerable anxiety. Kel and I both looked up at it during passages and pondered the likelihood of decapitation should it have come off entirely. We also managed to get the alternator fixed in Roadtown last week and dad gifted us some cabling to finish installing the new battery bank. It’s been quite the luxury to have a working fridge again, we even had ice cream yesterday!

This little sucker just jumped on my hook!Â

Before leaving San Juan we spent over an hour diving on the hull to scrub sea life off the bottom, in particular the rudder and propeller. We estimate having lost over a knot of boat speed on the way to San Juan due to growth while anchored in Luperon. The shear volume of shit in the bay makes for very fertile growing conditions. On Saturday evening we spent another hour diving to finish the job, and our hull is back to her shiny blue self. There was over an inch of growth on the bottom of the keel, and patches of thick barnacles everywhere else. The final instalment is some mild scrubbing to expose a new layer of antifouling paint to delay re-growth.

Mum looks out to sea on the windward side. A little more lumpy than our cruising ground so far.

Torrential rain on Sunday afternoon made for perfect deck cleaning conditions. We threw boat soap over the deck and then spent a while scrubbing some of the rust stains and general grime from the gelcoat. Erno and Freda, a Dutch couple we met in San Juan, tipped us off on the power of muratic acid to remove rust stains on deck so I’m going to mix up a little squirt bottle and work my way round our stanchions, life lines and rigging removing the nasty stuff.

Always endearing. I shit on your shorts, piss on your bed, chew your sandal. Who's your daddy?

The rugby unfortunately wasn’t broadcast anywhere in Roadtown on Saturday and the marina wifi was so slow we couldn’t watch it online. Instead we were reduced to Matt Dawson’s commentary on Five Live, including expansive coverage of all the day’s top performers – Worsley, Shaw, Monye… it was apparently just the English lads who turned up?

Food in the cockpit, doesn't get much better.

So one more afternoon of lounging and one more meal out…it’s a cushy life. Oh and the small matter of the Trellis Bay full moon party tonight…I’m sure the firedancing will resume.

Monday 29 June

Home brewing on the boat - 52 pints for 12 buck and a 'borrowed' water bottle

We finally made it somewhere…on time! The last while has felt like we’ve been trying to push boulders up hills. Two weeks in Luperon and three in San Juan, waiting for weather, waiting for the opportunity to move east, waiting to meet mum and dad. Living the dream just hasn’t been living up to it’s marketing. You of course rightfully ask why is this whining bastard writing about his hard life when all it consists of is snorkelling, gin and tonics at sunset and reading books?

I’m not totally sure. But difficult it has been, and we’ve had to dig a little deeper in ourselves to stick with it. If money wasn’t in the picture I think we’d feel much more content at sea, but after mum and dad head home we’re going to stop and work somewhere for a few months to rejuvenate our bank accounts.

Miserable bastard moments aside, it is a real relief to get to the Virgin Islands. After the hammering we took crossing from D.R. to Puerto Rico neither of us were that excited about making more miles in an easterly direction. Thankfully as the deadline drew closer the weather also started to cooperate. We were finishing some jobs on the boat to our usual schedule – last minute – and being held back by 24 hours because we hadn’t finished actually worked out perfectly as we got a 36 hour window with light winds and calm seas.

We arrived in Trellis Bay at lunchtime yesterday, had a nap and got the boat ready for our guests. And it turns out they were late! Their flight had been delayed en route and they’d missed a connection. We skyped mum quickly from the boat and discovered they were well and in Antigua with an entire basketball team and would arrive this morning.

We’ve watched loads of the Lions tour as you would expect, and as I have mentioned earlier, and I’ve been struck by how many individuals are putting their hand up for donkey of the series. Vickery and Monye stoked my racist sentiments in the first match (against the English of course), and then our own O’Gara gave away a match losing penalty in the last minute of the second test, which I’m sad to say we missed because we were at sea. But this morning it’s South African coach Peter de Villers who takes the award with a series of ridiculous comments in reference to eye gouging and violence in the sport. Fabulous and well deserved, now please someone take him out the back and introduce him to Walter Wink. Brent he’s your countryman, it’s really your responsibility.

San Juan had a few high points that I forgot to mention in my wallowing. Firstly we met Judith, a Puerto Rican boat dweller who lives and works from her boat in the marina. We had loads of fun hanging out with her and meeting her folks, they treated us to a home-cooked Puerto Rican meal and hugged us like we were their long lost children! Judith also helped us buy some boat stuff at local prices and lent us her beautiful Suburu to do some messages (Keli still get’s a kick out of me calling shopping ‘messages’, just like my gran).

I also did my PADI Open Water scuba diving certification while we were there, my birthday present from Kel. I’ve never dived before so it was great to grab the opportunity while we had the time, and means that Kel and I can rent tanks and dive together if we ever fancy it in future.

An email from Fermanagh reminded me that in my drunkenness or through sunstroke I’d forgotten that cats are the gypsies of the animal kingdom. I’m sure that’s in no way a reference to the traveller population, but rather an affectionate nod to the desert fathers. Regardless, Anzuelo our little fish hook has become a permanent fixture on the boat, and what a little delight he is. In the first 48 hours he charmed us with his playful kitten personality, and so we took him to the vet for his shots. In the next 48 hours he proceeded to shit on the vacuum cleaner, piss on two beds and a settee, and hack chunks out of our ankles. I was for leaving him at the marina, but we persevered and he’s shaping up ok, although still struggling to conduct his affairs inside the box. No doubt dad will be delighted with him when he arrives!

I forgot to mention a few things in the last while that occurred aboard Beannacht. We brewed our own beer – 52 pints of the stuff – and it tastes pretty good. Only about 25 pints left. We demolished another television series that we loved, adding Fringe to the list that already included Weeds and Dexter.

That’s it for now… the rents arrived safely and we’ve some comedy to add in our next post, and some guest writing.

 

A possible new crew member for Beannacht, he's on seatrial tonight.

Meet Anzuelo, which means fish hook in Spanish. We’ve been talking about a ship’s cat for a while and met another cruiser on the dock this morning who’d found Anzuelo by the roadside yesterday. We decided we’ll give him a day or two on the boat to see how he does and if he seems happy then we’ll take him to the vet for his shots – and just in time for my dad’s visit too, perfect!

It’s been a big week for work on the boat. We’ve taken out our leaking window and spent hours trying to separate the perspex from the aluminium frame. Age and salt water has fused the bolts in place and whacking them with a hammer appears to be the only solution. I brought the window to shore today to vent my frustrations and met Judith a local who’s been living at the marina for four years and has a Jeanneau, which is a similar boat to ours. Within about 10 minutes she’d called a local perspex supplier and arranged for us to go tomorrow to have a replacement window made for $36 – amazing! She’s even going to drive us there and back. Our windows are fairly heavily crazed – they’re covered in tiny horizontal cracks that reduce their transparency – and so I think I’ll replace both windows even though I actually only need to do the starboard side.

Otherwise we’re good. Not managing to write much because not much is actually happening. Essentially we’re using the time before mum and dad arrive to get some jobs we’ve wanted to do, done. We’re really excited about the arrival of our first visitors, sharing some of what our life looks like these days with people we love was a big part of the dream from the beginning.

Off to show Anzuelo the litter tray, but there’ll be daily updates of his progress from here on in!

PS> we’re struggling with a batch of baby houseflies who apparently like the sailing life at the minute. Kel’s allowing her less refined personality loose with the fly swatter, potty mouth and all. Anzuelo will have to sing for his supper, so to speak.