Held horses

Summer is making itself known – not yet spoiling us with its full splendour but nibbling occasionally through the clouds. In my spare time I’ve been out cycling and running (my new thing, always have a new thing), attending a stag do and making stupid music with my friends. Poor Rich has been in the hole that was the aft cabin, battling a fiery but reluctant beast of an engine, with only 6music and me occasionally chucking him a sandwich to keep him sane.

I can’t imagine his frustration, and he’s coping with it well. He got the thing going and we should have been off that same week, but it started overheating which has led to him sending off some bits to be cleaned, changing some other bits, endlessly fiddling in minute alterations to tiny aspects of the enormous machine. Every day he goes back to it he comes away with another idea of what might be wrong. Rich never really liked engines before. His last boat didn’t have one, but we need one. I suspect he doesn’t like it very much any more either.

I’m busy too, teaching a new English class, planning lessons, working etc. but it is not this which stops me helping him. I just can’t. As is often the case with boat stuff my role is to listen to the problems (briefly, oh so briefly, understand and remember before losing them), take him for the odd walk, pint, game of cards, Game of Thrones. A bit of sunshine in Cornwall is a beautiful balm and we’re getting out and enjoying a little together when we can. If all this time, money and frustration pays off we can enjoy it all the more as a threesome with Gwen. That keeps Rich going past a point where I would have smacked the fucking thing with the fire axe.

Today I’m hoping to drag him away long enough to go and ring the tree that should be our mast – he’s lost the bigger vision as he concentrates on this one aspect but if we don’t stop the tree growing soon it may fill with sap and lose its strength. Then the Easter weekend will be over and we’ll go back to work.


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