She lives.
Although the key turned in the lock with some confidence, the hatch doors remained firmly stuck until yielding following a good shove which presented access to the gloom of the saloon. Having left the blinds down and the hatches covered we peered into the dark, not knowing if we were to be faced with a forest of mildew or an infestation of creatures only David Attenborough would find fascinating.
Fumbling for the light switch we woke LJ from her hibernation only to find everything merely covered in a generous layer of dust. I cannot begin to express our relief!
Our task was to get her back in the water and returned to the UK for the winter. There were two pressing reasons for this. Firstly, our well-publicised electrical system was in need of a software repair and more new batteries and the suppliers maintenace team were reduced to UK travel only. Secondly, having already destroyed the UK fishing industry, the Government in association with the ‘dream factory’ of HMRC were busy destroying the Marine industry by proposing to charge VAT a second time on any UK registered vessel that stayed outside of the UK for more than 3 years.
We’d booked our favourite local AirBnB for 10 days in order to assess the task ahead and looked to relaunch some 8 days later. Bit by bit we brought her back to life expecting nothing to work first time. We already knew the domestic power bank wasn’t fully functional but worse was that the Radar had gone into some perpetual buffering mode and our AIS transmitter wouldn’t wake up. Both of the toilets were unable to pump out and an engine mounting and exhaust elbow had started to deteriorate and the wind index had just stopped.
On a plus side we found a vintage bottle of Gin and a box of white wine which had been preserved in the time honoured tradition of being on its side. One of these libations was drinkable whilst the other had the aroma and palate that is beyond description without the use of certain adjectives unusable before the watershed. Clothes that we’d left on board and long since forgotten about had mysteriously shrunk and it seemed I’d brought along spare boat parts that now sat alongside the spare boat parts I already had.
Launch day came round far too soon and having un-winterised the engine she fired up almost immediately and we gently glided her onto a pontoon. We refitted the sails, halyards and sheets and took her for a test sail to La Roche Bernard a mere 5 miles down river where we celebrated with a delightful French Lunch. In true French style the afternoon was a write off.
The second phase was to sail her back to the UK and it is here that we are indebted to our dear friend Richard Cracknell who arrived via the St Malo Ferry. Nina drove the car home to be welcomed back with Passenger Location Forms, test to travel swabs and the inevitable quarantining. We wouldn’t meet up for nearly two weeks..