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| George the Skipper not shouting at anyone (L-R Ali, Suzanne, me) |
A smooth journey on Monday 8th
May got us back to the UK leaving the dark rain of Paris behind and arriving in
glorious Scottish sunshine. We had a few
tasks to do that week before heading to the West Coast for a different kind of
boating. Our tenants in Edinburgh were
off on new adventures meaning I had a flat to advertise. Thankfully one evening on gumtree resulted in
over 40 enquiries and I had arranged viewings for Tuesday evening. Before heading over to Edinburgh though, we
had some urgent shopping to do – brown sauce! - and I took the opportunity for
a leg wax and lunch with my buddy Susan.
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| Should last a month or two.... |
In Edinburgh Mike spent some time in the Apple store trying to sort out
some problems with his laptop (which the ‘geniuses’ have drawn a blank on!) and
I left him there and headed to the flat.
One viewer had called off but the two that turned up both wanted it,
which is nice, but makes me feel really bad for the one that doesn’t get
it…….. So we have a lovely tenant lined
up to move in next month – phew!
Mike then had a few days’
work, so I had lunch with mum and my aunties Nancy and Bertha – noticeably
missing Aunty Eleanor and Cousin Cath, got my hair done and various other tasks
that I needed to catch up on.
On Friday, Mike did a
morning’s work then after lunch we returned our hire car to Edinburgh Airport
and took our first tram ride into Haymarket to catch a train to Glasgow. Mike’s always been very excited about the
tram, whereas I see them as a complete waste of time and money that put businesses
out of work on Leith Walk for nothing, but I’ll not go there just now. The tram was very slow, very busy (first one
we’d seen with people on it) and quite frankly I’d have rather have got the
bus! Anyway, one tram and two trains
later and we were in sunny Largs on the West Coast waiting to check in with
Scotsail for our weekend. The weekend
had been organised by Simon, who organises our group skiing holiday in January,
mainly for Ali’s significant birthday but so they could work towards their
qualifications too. Mike’s always
fancied sailing and I haven’t, so when asked if we’d like to join them it
seemed a good idea as it would allow us to try it out to see if it was indeed
something we’d like to do in the future.
Things didn’t get off to a
good start when, after being introduced to our skipper for the weekend, George,
he asked if we needed waterproofs or wellies.
I asked him if my jacket would be okay and he said maybe for a sunny
day, but not for tomorrow – I would need one of theirs – at an extra cost. I hummed and hawed, crossed eyes at Mike and
decided I’d be okay with mine. George
however was already looking through the rack and when he passed me one and I
said no, it was okay, he had a slight hissy fit and launched into how horrible
it is to see someone with hypothermia……..
I could feel the tension building so asked, “Are you and I going to fall
out about this?” “Yes.” “Right, fine, I’ll take your jacket.” After which Ali piped up and said she thought
she might be better with one of their jackets, shortly followed by Mike….. So,
signed in and kitted up we headed off to the boat, unpacked, learned how to
work the lavvie, got told the rules and headed off for dinner.
The next morning dawned dull
and wet, the plus point being that this meant it was dead calm on the
water. I was shitting myself and not
really looking forward to it, but once I’d had a shot at the helm, I started to
relax a little. I remember that moment
fondly as within an hour the wind had picked up and we were heeling over at a
horrendous angle that I felt sure we could never recover from. I was absolutely terrified, hated it, wanted
my mum. But I had to stick it out. We started to head for our mooring for the
night at Ardrossan, but as I got used to the movement, George got me back on
the helm and I actually smiled when riding a couple of largish waves, and
feeling a bit more at ease, we decided to tack around a bit and stay out for a
bit longer. It then seemed to take ages
to get to the port and we got a bollocking for not securing the washing up
liquid which had spilled over all the worktops in the galley. Well, they looked like they needed a good
clean to me…….. We got a few bollockings
from George that weekend, some out loud, some you could just see happening in
his head, but he was a good skipper, giving very clear and concise instructions
and you felt you were in good hands, even tho’ he sometimes looked like he
wanted to kill you.
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| All calm with Captain Queenie at the helm |
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| If I was a bloke, my balls would've been in my throat at this point! |
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| Simon doing well not giving alternative instruction to the skipper :) |
A meal and bed in Ardrossan
for more of the same the next day, but this time the sun was out. It was still a bit rough though, and as we
left the safe haven of the harbour I wasn’t the only one who popped a Kwell
just in case. We moored at Millport for
lunch and all too soon (or not soon enough if you were me) were heading back to
Largs to empty the boat, pack the car and head to Ali’s for the night. The biggest bollocking of the day came when
some charts and a book got wet. You’d
have thought the world had ended. It
hadn’t but it was an extra cost for someone to replace them……. I was glad to get off the boat, glad to get
somewhere dry and not to get thrown around whilst trying to work out what rope
exactly that it is out of the multitude of them that the skipper wants me to do
something with, whilst being thrown around in the swell.
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| Suzanne completing the 'Handling a tender' part of her certificate |
Despite being certified as having passed
‘Starting Sailing’, I think I’m probably finished with it. I didn’t not enjoy the weekend, the company
was great and Ali and her friend Suzanne had done a sterling job with the
shopping and we had all sorts of tasty snacks that we’re normally not allowed. We ended the weekend with a night at Ali’s
and got to meet her gorgeous dog Bentley – he really is lovely and much less
bouncy than I thought he’d be. We had a
lovely meal with her and Simon and on Monday morning Simon, Mike and I headed
homewards and Ali went to work.
One car, three trains, one
plane and one Jon Le Taxi later we were back at St-Jean-de-Losne on board
Quaintrelle and I’d have hugged her if my arms were long enough. It felt good to be back on board in our safe
little port and looking forward to tomorrow’s new navigation – the Canal Du
Bourgogne!
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