Giles and Paula's Great Retirement Adventure
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Our main flagstaff suffered a major catastrophe before we departed. Not that I noticed it until we were well underway to France, when I remembered that I was not flying the ensign. I leave the ensign wrapped around the flagstaff when not in use and stow it as one. Could not find it anywhere, I assumed a Gozza local had nicked it. Though that would have been more likely to have been pinched if it was a St Georges Cross......
I eventually noticed it lying on the coach roof. The flag had got tangled up with the pole in the high winds that we had recently, basically forming a sail and had pulled the mount out of the roof. The conditions were so calm on the crossing, I "fixed" it on the move. Two days later it came down again. A better mounting system needs to be installed, but that will have to wait until I am home.
We did not want to travel in France without flying our ensign a) It's slightly illegal, and b) I did not want to get mistaken for being French, or worse still German or American
So necessity being the mother of invention, I got the zip ties out and bodged a temporary solution with the help of the gangway which we will not use on this trip...
"OK face up to it - you're useless but generally pretty honest and straightforward . . . it's a rare combination of qualities that I have come to admire in you" - Geo 2011
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@Giles you go by hours and not gallons burned?
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I keep track of litres per hour. I deliberately deleted the fuel burn gauge when we specced the boat. I don't want bad news when I'm at the helm. I'll go as fast as I want/need to, and worry about the consequences when I fill up. Are we having a ball? Yes, so I don't want a "piss-me-off-gauge"......
"OK face up to it - you're useless but generally pretty honest and straightforward . . . it's a rare combination of qualities that I have come to admire in you" - Geo 2011
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@Giles I used to tell the Mrs. How many dollars away a given fishing trip was (fuel/tackle/food/Launch fees/stress factor) drove her bonkers, all she wanted to know was how long it would take.
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Leaving as early as possible tomorrow is critical. We have to be in St Malo before the lock closes. It does open again in the evening, but we have to be on a train to Paris at Sparrows on Saturday morning, so really want to get in on the early tide. But we need to know what depth of water is over the annoyingly positioned sand bar between us and freedom. The marina staff are being pretty useless. So Paula and I are monitoring this tide, and making notes of what the depth at regular points around low water are. From these observations, we can extrapolate what the depth will be at certain times tomorrow morning.
We also want to go to the bar and have a drink and some food. So I've rigged up a Blink camera so I can remotely monitor the depth gauge from my phone....
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Almost perfect. We barrelled down here for 11:32 lock opening. Actually managed to get in the queue for the 11:02 opening. Then we got a call on the radio telling us that the 11:02 and 11:32 openings were not happening. Next time the lock gates open is 20:45.
So we are in the next marina on a visitors berth...
Bloody French
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In point of fact. The above fuck up helped us in the end. Paula suggested that we pop around to the marina that we have booked, and check out our berth. Guess what? None of the berths are marked, and even the marina staff did not know where F4 (where we were told to berth) was. If it had not been for the lock being dredged (which is why they shut early today), we would had turfed up at 21:15ish and not known what to do. Because, guess what again? The marina staff knock off at 19:00
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Given this chaos…how in hell did the sailing world come up with the expression ‘running a tight ship’?
