(( Copied from other blog for anyone who is interested in following on from the Honey Ryder experience. ))

As if taking five months to complete the sale of my new boat wasnt enough of a mission and a story in itself, the mission continues.

I completed the sale of my SY Varekai in February, I drove to Gibraltar (where it currently lies) on a mini mission to get it prepared for sailing back at the end of May.

During the mission I faffed around moving stuff out before I could move in. The previous owner left it as if it was still in commission and it was full, I mean FULL of stuff.

It took all week to empty the cupboards, take stock of the useful stuff, the stuff that can be sold and the stuff that needed to see the skip.

After moving most of my stuff aboard, the cupboards are half full/empty (optimist/pesimist), there is space a plenty left for all my other things waiting in the UK to be loaded up once the boat is on home waters.

The sails were removed for servicing and some mega stitch work to add an extra reef point ( for non yachty people, a reef point is so that you can reduce the amount of sail when it gets a bit windy, most main sails have 3 reefs, the last reef gives minimum sail area, which keeps stability but reduces healing, less healing, less puking and less green faces), the life raft taken also for inflating and repacking with a new battery and clean valves. I hope I never see that again, pretty as the raft is. Bits and bobs were removed for repairs or replacement. New anchor chain added, although must remember to attach it firstly to the chain, then to the rope that also needs attaching to the boat... thats a small matter to consider when lobbing an expensive anchor over the side, is it attached to the boat? yes, smiles all round. No, oh Bugger.

New stereo added ( yes its important, I can't whistle to myself all day)

and a wind generator was offered up. Attempted to be fitted but snagging point one... The pushpit rail isnt strong enough and needs reinforcing to support the strong leverage on the wind generator pole. the whole rig had to come down while I got a metal frame made in the UK to strengthen the pushpit (the railing that goes around the back of the boat) Its amazing how much one of those rutland 916's weights at the end of a long pole.

I take all this in my stride. The sailing to UK date isnt until the end of May. This was March. Plenty of time.

Planned visit two, in April. A volcano erupted and spewed ash all over my plans. Still waiting for my refund from Easy McSqueezy jet.

As I await my flights second time round, the bloody volcano is at it again. I mean, who would think, yeah, Im going to plan around a volcano erupting?

ever feel like the odds are stacked against you? ever feel like, maybe I should have bought a motorhome instead?

After a three hour commute to work this morning from a dutch barge somewhere in the nether regions of hertfordshire, a 24 hour drive to Gibraltar doesnt seem so bad. 23 miles in 3 hours, or 1500 miles in 24 hours, I think the latter is better value for time.

So, I await with eager anticipation, will I or wont I fly this weekend? will I get the sails back from the sail loft? will I get my life raft back? will I get my boom refitted with a new gooseneck pin? will I get my new lazy jacks fitted? Will I get my new chartplotter fitted? will I get that wind generator up? Will I ever sail this bloody boat into the sunset?

Im asking the good luck fairy quietly, under my breath, through clenched teeth. "Get yer finger out ya lazy bitch, where's my luck for 2010?"

{{{ as an addendum, I should add, I am still living on the bloody river near to London. I recently cruised solo to London, where I enjoyed/endured a very pleasant commute to work and a very pleasant theft experience at the same time. EVERY time I enter the M25 inner sanctum some scrote decides to piss me right off by nicking something of mine or someone close to me. This time the thieving scummy window lickers snapped my friends GPS off of his motorbike while he was standing just a few feet from it, in the region of Enfield, he was taking pics of me cruising the barge. Soon after when I returned north, to my Nemesis, SPRINGFIELD where I had my car broken into a couple of May's ago, I had my car numberplate stolen this time. yes, that's it, Im outta there again. The boat is nestling in the leafy and pretty area north of the M25. Great for the boat, but shite for my commute. There's always pain and pleasure. How many people commented on what a wonderful life it must be living on a boat on the canals. I said, NO, dont do it, its rubbish, the locks were all fucked up on my way back too due to an arson attack on a factory. its a glamourous life alright. Ok, so it's less rubbish than say living in an over priced house on land, but its still rubbish. Moving a boat, just for moving its sake, the scenery is rarely pleasant, and when it is pleasant, my commute of many hours precludes me from ever seeing it. except at weekends, which is mainly taken up moving a boat. Shite I tell ya. Shite! }}}

Down in da Hood, trying to blend in with the locals... not very successful to tell the truth.