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Logbook part 1: My father has a fridge in his bedroom!
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Here it is!
You asked for it!
You wanted it!
Somebody even mentioned to me captions from last year's one!!! (which made me just remember the first days' overwhelming
sea-sickness.....)
So here I am, faithful to friendship's sacred bonds and mostly to my overpowering ego, ready to start
it......
THE 2005 LOGBOOK!
=================
For the moment, take this as a starter, or more exactly an intro, because not a lot happened in these last few
days.
Due to small jobs on the new boat (new, huge and VERY COOL!!! It's got a lifting
keel, WOW! ...a detail to remember) plus assorted bad lucks - I also managed to forget my digital camera on the car that my brother has
dutifully brought back home last saturday - and an horrid weather, despite having left our homeland last thursday we moved only this
morning.
I mean, to be clear: ok, 5 days have passed but oh, people!, we moved! I
swear!!
...Going backwards 3 MILES!!
("how much you sailed in a week?" "minus 3..." wow!)
From the utterly uninspiring port of Arzal we moved to La Roche Bernard, definitely more
charming, more populated (but very few sailorettes, sigh!), more inland but
whocares: we moved, we did something, I grasped the weel from my father in order to forget that for 5 continuous days we did nothing other than pointless runs up to the
(non-existent) village for totally futile errands (last monday I believe I was sent to buy bread 3
times!) and to make things worse our only contact with the world, THE INTERNET CONNECTION,
broken!!!
We were beginning to contemplate, with feverish eyes, ideas like:
A- cast-off, no matter what, and hope to be thrown over a rock right at the river's
mouth, ending our pains.
B- replicate inside Shaula 3 the looks of the Overlook Hotel...
C- send to hell the boat, the cruise, the atlantic, the port, the geneva convention,
maastricht, the kyoto protocol, the bay of biscay, Spain, you name it and WALK BACK HOME!!!!
This morning after the weather forecast called for TOTAL GLOBAL DEADLY MAYHEM till next
SATURDAY, the Commanding Father roared "sh*t, I'll give a call to Roche
Bernard!", he managed to get a mooring for a couple of nights, and off we
went.
Without lowering the keel.....
The boat, after having let go the lines, started pirouetting around the marina at a
worrisome speed.
Monsieur Dominique, the yard owner, was watching from the pontoon with a calm forgiving air.
He makes a gesture with his thumb.
"Lower the keel, lower.... lower, you fools"
After having translated (how do you render, BY SIGNS, "fools" in
french?!), rather subdued we complied, Shaula thanked and we managed to exit the marina and the
embarrassment.
Mainly the second one.
An hour spent motoring along a river which resembles the Anduin (ah, the Anduin!!), a perfect mooring
(apart from a few goofs we justified with the lack of practice in last year), under a slight rain soon increased to annoying and then lethal just when myself and the She-Commander Mother were up in the village to get some food.
Lorenzo soup, sniff...
I got wet like a puppy, da*n!!
La Roche Bernard is a hell of a village, with a lot of useful shops, including a
telephone shop where we managed to find a charger for my father's cell phone: believe me, to send e-mails the charger is
ESSENTIAL.
Believe me, but don't ask me why.
ANYWAY, not trusting at all my mother's french, I made a run down to the port (a couple of
kilometers) to give the charger to Father, help him a moment under an annoying
rain, ascertain that the thingy was THE RIGHT ONE, and then climb back to
Mother, who was shopping around in a Rotisserie.
I reach the shop, enter, and at my feet a small 4-lane swimming pool is immediately
formed.
Bonjournče!
Bonjournče to whom?!! well, ok....
Then away to the bread shop, and finally again to the marina, where I undress, squeeze my socks and
faint.
Sitting on the stern watching the river.
The breton landscape under the rain.
You become a poet hereabout, unavoidably.
And then you commit a mass-suicide.
Happily.
Obviously, by three o'clock a shining sun was blowing and we started sweating like sweating
pigs; even now it's fairly warm.
Optimism is rampant, there are whispers of a departure around dayaftertomorrow, but veeeeery low voice, as the Gods of nautical bad luck have a very sharp
ear!
D*mn them.....
Well, as a starter-like intro I wrote quite too much.
Time to do something else, like dinner.
A greeting to you all, a kiss wherever you are.
Namu Amida Butsu
Lorenzo
p.s.: ... my father REALLY has a fridge in his sleeping quarters!!
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