Rampant fingernail grime. Heat rash. Stinging eyelids. Scorched bum… See how glamorous the new life is? I do appreciate how lucky I am to have stumbled on this gig, really. But let me share...
Big hot day today. Sat on burning concrete trying to revive corroded zippers on wet weather gear. The steel-polishing project continues with new reason. We must make Pelican shine for Kerry O’Brien, whose very fine program said yes and will join us for three days in week two (though I don’t think the big K himself will come). I figure that by this time, untold numbers of people will have spewed all over the boat, rendering my cleaning-binge null and void. I heard last year the cook’s bed copped it. As there are no off-limits areas, I’m trying to quickly let go of my hitherto penchant for personal clean space. A totally unreasonable penchant, I now realise. Clean bed – bah!
Did I mention that the steel bizzo has been conducted under the gaze of a passing parade of pier walkers? The finger (pontoon) we’re on runs parallel to the public pier. So people stop, lean on the railing, look at the boat, exchange a few words with one another and walk on. Feel like a boat monkey.
We ‘swung the compass’ today. A whiskery old guy came out with us into Trinity Inlet to work out how much deviation our magnetic compass has – most boats have metal bits that skew the magnetic compass reading. Skip was elated to find Pelican had nil deviation… until whiskers delivered the bad news: the north-west quadrant is five degrees out. Was like failing an exam of sorts.
Other things that impressed me today:
1. Skip’s terminology on the boat. On Pelican, the Leatherman tools are referred to as ‘leather people’.
2. Description of the six-week return trip to Melbourne: two weeks sailing, a month stopping in beautiful spots. Won't sign on though til I wet my toes in Hopevale!
Pardon my lack of reply to first post comments. Have belatedly rectified this and promise to engage in two-way conversation from here on.
Two days til departure.
Hope all's well.