What a glorious weekend! Saturday morning and the sun was shining with only a gently breeze blowing, so the call of the open water was too much to bare. After doing the usual jobs and tasks involved with keeping a boat alive, I took on diesel, coal and water, took a pumpout and took off! 20 minutes later and I could have been in the middle of a 6 week holiday. The sun was warm on my back, the water was lapping gently around the boat, the birds were competing with my engine and the passers by seemed more friendly than normal - I was even receiving the usual summer comments of 'lovely boat' - despite the true paintwork of the boat being being hidden under 6 months of dirt and grime.
Late last night I went out and stood on the back deck with a glass in my hand to clear my head. There was a thick fog enveloping all around so that visibility was little mored than a few feet, it was pitch black and so silent except for the distant barking of foxes and bleating of sheep and the stars were so bright that their reflection on the water was simply magical. I remember thinking, 'you would pay a fortune to get seats like this and see this kind of effect at the theatre!' I finally tore my arm off the thick frost that was sticking it to the cabin roof and returned inside to sit snugly by the roaring fire. Words really fail to fully explain that kind of experience and I guess only boaters and a very few lucky other people can appreciate and picture the experience of such a scene.
Today, I cruised slowly back home to the marina; again the sun was warm and passing boats were willing to pause and have a short chat before heading our separate ways.
One day, the temptation to not stop, rather, simply pass straight on by the marina and keep on going, will become too much to resist....
but until that day, there's marking, washing, hovering, cleaning, shopping, maintenance..................