What's taken you so long?

And suddenly the project is entering its third year. How did that happen? Where did all that time go? What happened to blog updates? Well might you ask!!! So perhaps it's about time I brought you up to date.

Winter sunset over St Clair, Dunedin

Arriving back from the UK as we did to the 2012 NZ winter, the realisation had dawned that continuing with the glassing at that point in time was going to be out of the question. A veil of gloom descended over the Captain.

"So that's it then!"

 The statement came out of nowhere and took me completely by surprise.

"What's it then?" I asked hoping I wasn't biting off more than I could chew with that question. "I'm a bit lost with what you're talking about, I'm afraid."

"Well, I would have thought that was obvious!" came the rejoinder.

From where I was sitting it clearly wasn't, so I went back to clarify.

"Tell me what you're thinking." I tried to sound encouraging.

"So what am I supposed to do for the next six months?"

Now I was really confused. To me the answer was obvious - he'd be building the boat. I had clearly missed something...or perhaps I'd entered a time warp or a parallel universe or some such. So I took a deep breath and said, "Well, I sort of assumed you'd be building the boat!"

"How?"

The response was fired back instantly, accompanied by a look that indicated my suggestion was not best appreciated! I needed to think carefully.

"Look, I know I don't really understand the process you need to follow and what you need to do when..."

I paused and looked tentatively in Howard's direction. Yup, it seemed OK so far.

"...but can't you do something else until the weather warms up enough for you to do the glassing?"

"Such as?" he asked, but in such a way that it made me think my suggestion hadn't been all that dumb.

"Well, I have no idea but maybe it's worth thinking about."

There was a pause. Howard opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it again before a sound had left his lips. He seemed to thinking. He reached for his laptop, opened it up and started studying it intently.

"Tell you what," he finally said, "I could work on lining the hull...maybe start putting the insulation in and things like that."

Lining the hull - a solution for the winter blues!

"Is that easy enough to do whilst the hull's still upside down?" I asked.

He gave me one of those long-suffering looks - you know, the ones that say 'You poor soul. You sooo don't understand, do you.' But that was OK. The veil had lifted...we were back on track.

And so over the next couple of months the inside of the boat became the sole focus of The Captain's attention. I personally found it tricky trying to think upside down and visualise the galley or the heads or whatever, but Howard was in his element. As the inside progressed the daylight hours were getting longer...and, more importantly, warmer.

"I think I can start the glassing again tomorrow!"

The announcement was made with a mixture of pride and trepidation. This was going to be the big test.

"That's great. You'll be just fine. You do know that, don't you?" There was an eerie silence.

"We'll see."

The answer was succinct and about the best I was going to get. I knew it was best to end the conversation right there and then.

It did work OK, although there was no denying it was time-consuming and tedious. It was also still weather dependent. Cold spells meant work continued on the inside of the hull...and gave a rest from the itch, scratch and tedium of the glassing. 

Pre-dawn tranquility, Auckland

With September came our annual pilgrimage to the Auckland International Boat Show and another opportunity not only for Howard to recover from the itch and scratch caused by epoxy and glassfibre but also to lust after all those exciting bits that would be incorporated into our boat as time went on. The three days we went for simply flew by - and miraculously our money mostly stayed in the bank!!

Life for me saw a brain-fade moment which led to me applying for a job with more responsibilities. The realisation dawned that it would be challenging in the extreme. But that was OK. As far as I could see the chances of me getting it were not high. Wrong! I was informed I had got it - yikes!! That news came just as Keith, Kirsty and William were heading over to NZ for a holiday and I was taking a couple of weeks leave to be with them. Oh well, I'd sort the practicalities of the job out when I got back.

William was about seven and a half months old when he came to NZ, so sadly he won't remember anything about it!! However, we four adults took the task of enhancing his life experiences seriously and no doubt he will be grateful for our efforts in the years to come. We made sure he had a great time (and I must admit, we had a great time too)!

William with his mum and dad

We travelled round Otago getting as far as Queenstown. We eventually found both warmth and sunshine and fortunately it happened to be where we staying in Cromwell. The power boat racing that was also happening in Cromwell on the day we got there proved to be a bit too exciting (and loud) for William so we had to resort to going into the closest cafe! Whilst we were in Cromwell though William learnt about grass and kiwifruit (just to clarify, touching the former and eating the latter), marmite sandwiches (sucked as opposed to chewed), milkshakes and Speights beer (he wasn't allowed either of those two but he tried his best to get at them!). And when mum (Kirsty) wasn't watching he might even have had a wee bit of chocolate cake...but we won't tell her about that will we Keith!!

Learning about grass...

...milkshakes...

...and Speights!

There were BBQs and Whittakers chocolate (Keith and Kirsty really enjoyed the chocolate but sadly again there was none for William). And then there was Alouette...you know, the song..."Alouette, gentille alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai..." Well, when it comes to Alouette we are undoubtedly the experts  - in fact Kirsty invented bits of body I'm not sure that a skylark has! It possibly became a little tedious after the 105th repeat but it still made us laugh.

And then there was Alouette...but it was obvioulsy too much for Dexter (the dog)!

All too soon it was time for them to go home. I returned to the practicalities of making the new job work and Howard returned to his glassing...and sanding...and glassing...and sanding...and more sanding...and glassing. And so it continued for weeks and months on end. I flew off to Toronto for work and still Howard continued glassing and sanding. He was offered the opportunity to come too but it was late winter/early spring over there and going to Canada at that time of year didn't exactly seem to float his boat - so to speak!

Not long after I came home from Canada tragedy struck. Sammy, our wonderful male tabby cat was hit by a car and killed. He was a rescue cat who had been part of our lives since 2004 and was intended to be part of our lives on the boat. He used to spend huge amounts of time with Howard in the boatshed, usually choosing to lie on the bit of boat that Howard was trying to work on. We were distraught. We swore we wouldn't get another cat until we were ready to move onto the boat.

Sammy in typical helping pose!

But our other cat Rosie, who was also a rescue cat and who had been with us about six months less then Sammy, pined so much. She wasn’t interested in anything and wouldn't eat which was very worrying. We left it for about six weeks and then decided we’d go back to the SPCA in search of a small female companion cat for Rosie (she is very vertically challenged!!). We found the perfect one but just as we were heading back to the office to say we’d found the cat we wanted, someone else came in and took her. Reluctantly we had another look around, looked at the kittens and then went into the males ('why?' you may ask – I have no idea!). And there was this gorgeous grey cat with white socks sitting in a basket on a shelf. I picked him up and he cosied in. Howard held him and he did the same (the cat, not Howard). And that’s how Moki came into our lives. He was about 5 years old. He was scared of the outdoors (he’s over that now!), didn't seem to know how to meow (he now wanders around talking to himself but still not sure I would call it a meow) or purr (that's nearly mastered most of the time although sometimes it sounds more like a grunt) and has an absolute passion for cheese...so much so that he shakes whenever he sees the packet come out of the fridge!

Moki - no longer scared of the outdoors

Rosie is now able to chill out!

It took Rosie a wee while to get used to him because he is a big cat...and what’s more a big cat who hadn't learnt the cat convention of narrowing eyes and not staring at other cats, so that caused a few ructions at first. But now they’re best buddies and spend a lot of time together...and Moki finally understands that staring is one thing that isn’t appreciated!

Back to the boat and the sanding and glassing continued but now it was interspersed with filling (using fairing compound). The glassing was eventually replaced purely by filling...and sanding...and sanding...and sanding...and sanding...and filling...and sanding ad infinitum. Then one day this happened.

"Right!"

Crikey, now that grabbed my attention.

"Right, what?" I asked.

"I'm ready to start painting!!" came the excited reply.

"What, you mean no more sanding and filling? It's all done?"

"Yup!"

It was a single word answer but a triumphant one nonetheless.

The painting begins

"So that will mean it won't be long til it gets turned over then?" I ventured.

"Correct."

"And are you really going to have that done using a digger?"

"Oh yeah! All I need to do is to build a cradle and then she'll just get flipped over. That reminds me, I must get in touch with Stonesie"

Stonesie was the lucky person who was going to be entrusted with the clever digger work but I suspected it wasn't something that would have turned up on his CV to date!! The Captain's answer to my question had been so matter-of-fact, yet to me the concept of turning a boat through 180 degrees using nothing more than a cradle and a digger was the stuff nightmares are made of. I resolved there and then that I wouldn't be present at the turning ceremony - my nerves simply wouldn't have stood it!

Undercoats on...cradle constructed..front of shed removed ready for the big day

The boat was duly painted (not the finished coat which would happen just before the boat was due to be launched...just the undercoats) and the cradle constructed. Whilst the cradle did look robust it still didn't do a lot to allay my 'turning over' fears. However, before any of that was going to happen we were off on holiday with Dark Star to the Marlborough Sounds and would be returning with our stainless steel rudder stock which the wonderful Geoff Robinson at Waikawa Marine and Rigging had made for us.

The Marlborough Sounds were as stunning as always - and the fishing was going to prove to be the same too. It is so difficult to describe the Marlborough Sounds in words and do them justice so we have put together a YouTube video to share some of the things we have seen. If you click on the image below you'll be able to share some of the sights we have enjoyed so much and which keep us coming back.

Anyway, we pottered around for a few days doing 'boatie' things - in other words wandering about chandlers and the like looking at exciting shiny things for the boat - as well as stopping off at our usual coffee haunts. Once we were happy that the weather - or rather the wind - was reasonably settled we launched from Waikawa Bay and followed our usual MO of living on the boat and eating what we caught. Unlike the previous year, we had no particular plans around where we wanted to head for, so we decided just to go where the mood took us.

White Rocks

I do at this point have to admit to having had a sneaking desire to get to White Rocks which are where Queen Charlotte Sound meets the Cook Strait. I have no sensible rationale as to why I wanted to go there - I just did. I didn't really expect that it would happen but that desire may just have had some bearing on the next couple of hours.

"So where shall we go?"

These were the questions I always dreaded because they tended to end up in circular conversations that would carry on for some time as neither of us was willing to make the necessary decision. So I had two choices. Either I could do my usual response of  'I don't mind, where would you like to go?' which would then precipitate said circular conversation or I could actually make a decision!

"How about we head down towards Resolution Bay or Ships Cove? There was some really good fishing there when Iain and Helen were over a couple of years back."

I quite took myself by surprise and I think the same applied for the Captain who simply said,

"Oh, OK then."

How easy was that! So off we set, stopping at frequent intervals to try the fishing at likely looking spots. As we headed towards Resolution Bay, we could see Long Island seemingly beckoning to us. Beyond it, and just about visible in the distance we could see Motungarara Island and The Twins.

The Twins and Motungarara Island

I was aware that not that far beyond them lay White Rocks. It was the most fabulous blue-sky day and there was minimal wind. Before I knew what was happening I heard myself saying,

"Hey, why don't we head down to White Rocks? It's still quite early and it's a fabulous day..."

The question was greeted with silence. To be fair, Howard was fiddling with the Go-Pro at the time. Not being the best at multi-tasking, there was a fair possibility it may have been pushing him too far to formulate an answer to the question and sort the Go-Pro all at the same time. Or maybe he was going to say 'no' but was trying to work out how to let me down gently. I waited as patiently as I could.

"Sure - why not." What a star!

So off we went. It was stunning - although there was quite some chop where The Sound and Cook Strait met - and the Captain with his trusty Go-Pro recorded it all for us. I was in my element. From White Rocks we meandered our way back up the Sound and pottered around in Onehunga Bay for a while. Soon teatime was calling which also meant it was time to think about a place to stop for the night. We are members of the Waikawa Boating Club and one of the benefits of that membership is that you can use their moorings. A quick check of the map in the Members' Handbook showed that there were two in Anatohia Bay which was close to where we were. It looked beautifully sheltered. We decided that would do for us.

Anatohia Bay - we could see a yacht was already on one of the moorings 

As we motored into the Bay we could see a yacht was already on one of the moorings but that still left one spare, so we headed for the spare one. We tied on to the mooring, dangled the rods over the side and settled down to enjoy our tea. The sun began to sink towards the horizon and the sky became flushed with oranges and reds. This was the life.

Well, as the inimitable Rabbie Burns observed, 'the best-laid plans o' mice an' men, gang aft agley' (often go awry, in case you were wondering about those last three words!). And he was right. As we sat there, basking in the last rays of the sun, a modified trawler chugged into the Bay.

"Surely they're not going to want to moor up are they?" I asked Howard, with possibly just the slightest hint of irritation in my voice.

One of the rules of using the moorings is that you must share so if another boat arrives and wishes to use the mooring as well, you have to raft up (ie one boat ties on to the mooring and the second boat then ties on to that boat). This was a big boat - possibly 35 feet to our 22 feet - so we would have to move off the mooring whilst they tied to the buoy and then we would need to tie on to them.

"Yup, they're coming in here. We need to get ready to move off."

Howard took control of the situation. Not many minutes later, and the manoeuvre was complete. We found ourselves somewhat dwarfed by our new neighbour but as compensation they provided us with some beautifully cooked paua - yum! The wind picked up a bit in the night which produced a cacophony of sound as the two boats jostled with each other, the inequity in size possibly being largely responsible for the noise. However, by the next morning the wind had dropped again and the day dawned sunny and warm. We took our leave of the Anna-Dee and headed off for another day of fishing.

We spent the day puddling around the lower half of Queen Charlotte Sound, surrounded by the most awesome scenery. As the sun went down we motored up Endeavour Inlet and tucked ourselves into Camp Bay.

"We'll need to get some more ice in the morning."

The pronouncement from Howard jolted me back into the here and now.

"Is there anywhere around here that sells it?" I asked.

"The book suggests Furneaux Lodge which is up at the head of Endeavour Inlet so we could pop up there tomorrow morning."

So that was that decided then. The following morning we were treated to a stunning sunrise. As the sun rose higher, the turquoise of the sky threw the steep, bush-clad hillsides surrounding the inlet into sharp relief. Life was wonderful.

Sunrise over Endeavour Inlet

As the sun rose higher, the turquoise sky threw the steep bush-clad hillsides into sharp relief

Furneaux Lodge was about four kilometres away from where we had anchored for the night in Camp Bay. The day was idyllic and the water was like glass. Everything was so calm I almost felt guilty for breaking the silence with the noise of our engine.

"You see, this is why we need a yacht. It would be so peaceful without the noise of the engine." The captain seemed to be reading my thoughts.

We chugged slowly up the Inlet, stopping occasionally to see if we could hook a fish. Everything was so tranquil as we approached the jetty at Furneaux Lodge. Two people were standing on the jetty, deep in conversation. We started to pull alongside the jetty - a manouevre we had done so many times in the past. I was poised with the boat hook ready to catch the rope on the jetty as we came in so we could secure the boat...and bingo, caught first time. So what was supposed to happen next was that Howard would bring Dark Star to a standstill and I would jump out onto the jetty and secure her. But what actually happened was that, for reasons best known to Howard, he actually seemed to speed up! I hung onto the boat hook for all I was worth, thinking that he would slow down any minute. The rope on the jetty that the boat hook was attached to pulled tighter and tighter and I was running out of arm and body length. By now I was hanging over the side of the boat at full stretch. Surely he was going to slow down any second...and then suddenly 'thwang'! The point of no return had been reached and I couldn't hold on any longer. The boat hook behaved exactly like an arrow being shot from a bow carving a graceful parabola across the sky before clattering onto the jetty and skidding gracefully to a halt (the eagle-eyed amongst you may just spot it lying on the jetty in the video). Meanwhile, the two people on the jetty stood with mouths agape, watching this strange projectile hurtling towards them.

"What did you let go of it for?" Howard's voice penetrated my excruciating embarrassment.

"What do you mean, what did I let go of it for? How was I supposed to hang onto it when I'd run out of body? If I hadn't let go, I'd have fallen out of the boat! Why did you speed up?"

There was no answer forthcoming to that question. However,whilst this parry had been taking place Howard had gently brought the boat around and it glided smoothly in towards the jetty. One of the two people on the jetty sprinted over to help. I tried to disembark and retrieve the boat hook in as nonchalant a way as possible. It was very much to this guy's credit that he resisted the urge to ask what the heck had happened, for which I continue to be most grateful. Having recovered my composure - or at least some of it - we ambled up the path to Furneaux Lodge and bought our ice.

Back on the water again, we decided to make our way back towards Waikawa Bay at a leisurely pace, fishing as we went and stopping in whichever bays took our fancy. The weather continued its glorious sunny run and life was good.

Waikawa Marine and Rigging Ltd

Rudder stock waiting to be placed in the rudder

But all good things come to an end and we had to think about returning home. We called in to Waikawa and picked up the rudder stock which sat in pride of place on the flatdeck of the ute. It was just fortunate it wasn't any longer because there wasn't a lot of room to spare between it and the bow of Dark Star. We set off on the now familiar drive back from Picton to Dunedin and home for what was to be the last time with Dark Star. She had served us well, but as completion of the yacht build got ever closer it was time for someone else to have the opportunity to enjoy using Dark Star.

The day after we got home I was busy sorting things out from our holiday when The Captain popped his head round the door.

"Have you got a minute?" I suspected the question was a rhetorical one.

"What would you like me to do?"

"Well, we need to get the rudder stock off the ute and into the shed, and then we have to check it fits the rudder properly."

"Oh, OK. Is it heavy?"

I got that look again.

"It's solid stainless steel!!"

I stood there thinking 'Is that supposed to indicate something to me, or what?' but decided not to verbalise that. I walked over to the truck and awaited my instructions.

"OK, so you take that end and I'll get onto the truck and slide it along the deck."

Right, I was fine so far. I did as I was told slowly walking backwards as the rudder stock was slid along the deck towards me.

"Stop!! Right, now just hold it there whilst I get off and then I can lift the other end off."

Howard climbed down off the deck and lifted the other end off...and the full weight of the thing suddenly became apparent.

"Hell's teeth, that's heavy!" I was clearly stating the obvious.

"Course it is. Like I said, it's solid stainless steel. Now let's just get it into the shed so we can put it down."

With much grunting, groaning and grimacing on my part we got it into the boatshed and put it down.

"Right, so all we have to do now is slide it into the rudder and check it fits, so you take that end and I'll do this end so I can guide it in."

I took a deep breath, picked up my end of the rudder stock and started slowly walking forward as it slid into the rudder. I was just thinking to myself  'wow, this is easy' when it came to an abrupt halt and wouldn't go any further.

"Oh, I just need to take a wee bit off the rudder there. Just slide it out again."

What did he mean 'just slide it out again'? Had he forgotten how heavy this thing was? Anyway, I smiled sweetly - or perhaps it was a grimace - and we slid the rudder stock back out again and put it down. After a few strokes of the plane Howard was happy we could try again. We repeated the operation and in it slid, sweet as a nut, until...

"Oh, hold on - need a bit more off there too. It's just a bit tight."

"Yes, I know, just slide it out again. I'm going to have muscles like sparrows' kneecaps at this rate!"

The rudder stock fitted perfectly into the rudder...eventually!

And so the inning and outing continued for a not inconsiderable amount of time until finally it gently slid all the way in and The Captain was happy that the fit was perfect.

"Voila! Isn't that great?" he asked.

My muscles were screaming. I needed a cup of tea and a sit down, but yes, I had to admit it was great.

Then finally the day in May arrived when the boat was going to be turned. Howard was to drag it out of the shed on the cradle he'd built around the hull. He had made and attached two skis to the cradle to help but even with those attached how on earth do you drag out a hull that probably weighs around two tonnes? Well obviously you use your trusty ute and its 12 volt winch!

Dragging the hull out of the shed using our trusty ute and 12 volt winch

Fortunately, he'd had a dry run and had discovered that an unanchored ute would lose the battle with the boat and would end up being dragged towards the boat as opposed to the other way round. But as luck would have it, there was a substantial tree trunk handy and so that was pressed into service as an anchor. How the boat was turned over would have remained a mystery to me if it wasn't for Al and Claire - our two forward-thinking friends - who made a video of the whole process (see below).

Suffice to say it worked, and worked incredibly well - although I did have one heart-stopping moment when I received a text at work from Howard which said 'It's all over!!'  On reflection this was possibly not the best choice of words. Watching the video, I suspect it is the first time that Stonesie has had a round of applause when he has completed a job though!

Whilst the boat was out of the shed we took the opportunity to have the engine put in (yes, yachts do have engines!) and then she was dragged back into the shed again (fortuitously, there was a handy tree trunk at the other end of the shed too - good planning or what!).

Winter 2013 was a much more positive affair as far as the boat-building was concerned. There was plenty of work  to keep the Captain out of mischief, very few dramas...and even I could start to get my head around the layout.

As the months rolled by and winter turned into spring, the construction almost seemed to take on a life of its own (don't know Howard would totally agree with that statement though). We had steps leading to the companion way which craftily hid the engine but lifted up to allow access to it. The cock-pit started to take shape and there was even a rudimentary galley (kitchen). Two double berths (bedrooms) and a saloon (lounge!) arose from what had previously seemed to me like a chaotic jumble of pieces of plywood. It was all really exciting.

September again brought our annual pilgrimage to Auckland for the Boat Show but this time everything seemed so much more real (although it was very depressing watching the America's Cup turn to custard whilst we were up there).

The Big Boat (KZ1) - Viaduct Harbour, Auckland

We visited as many production boats as we could find that were of a similar size to ours. We probed and poked and examined in infinite detail with occasional exclamations of 'Oooh, that's not as good as on ours!' We talked and we walked from one end of the Show to the other many, many times and generally wore ourselves out. But we were happy as pigs in muck, as the saying goes. Once again we came back with loads of ideas but with our bank balance still mostly in tact.

December not only heralded the start of summer but also the arrival of Iain and Helen. Their holiday strangely just happened to coincide with a significant birthday for me (thanks for making that happen guys). It was time for another break for the Captain. For the first few days of their visit, summer seemed to have forgotten it was supposed to have arrived. We just hoped it would try a bit harder once we arrived in Cromwell where we were to be based for the bulk of their holiday.

The drive through to Cromwell included the, for me, obligatory stop at Ettrick to buy an ice cream.

Decisions, decisions!

These were supposed to be the single scoops!

This stop did seem to put a lot of pressure on Iain's decision making skills though as he was faced with a plethora of choices. Having finally made his decision and the rest of us having got through the process without suffering from too much food envy (it's always the same isn't it, you know exactly what you want until someone gets something you didn't think you wanted but it looks sooo delicious...) it was back into the car and on to Cromwell. And Cromwell did us proud. It was a beautiful day when we arrived - hot and sunny.

Alpha Street Recreational Reserve, Cromwell

Daylight fades over old Cromwell town

We unloaded our belongings and then set off for a walk along Lake Dunstan towards Bannockburn. The two kids were streets ahead of us two old fogies - oh to be young again! After the return walk we were all hot and thirsty and so there was a unanimous decision to call in at the Victoria Arms for a Speights. Suitably refreshed we returned to where we were staying and started planning the itinerary for the rest of our holiday.

A 4WD trip through Bendigo historic reserve and then over to Omakau was first on the agenda and even though the weather didn't excel on that trip, at least it was warm...well most of the time anyway.

Relics of the gold-mining days

The next day brought with it a visit to Mount Difficulty wines which combined a spot of wine tasting with a delicious lunch and was a splendid way to pass a particularly hot day. However, with the heat came the wind (the meteorological type, obviously!) and trying to hang onto our tableware - OK, our wine glasses - did prove to be somewhat problematic.

The Winery Restaurant at Mount Difficulty

Suitably replete we were quite happy to climb into the car and drive back but not so Iain and Helen. They elected to do a bit of exploring and then walk back. This was obviously designed to prepare them for their next day's walk over the Cairnmuir Mountains from Cromwell to Clyde. Now looking at what that entailed, Howard and I we more than happy to act as their support crew dropping them off at the start of the walk and then meeting them in Clyde. Once again they had stunning weather and quite how they finished the walk as fast as they did was beyond us. We did notice though that Helen fell asleep very early that evening!

Queenstown was the final destination on the itinerary. We made our way along the Kawarau Gorge, stopping off to take in the views where Roaring Meg joins the Kawarau River. Now I have to admit to enjoying swimming and have been known to 'go for a dip' in water that Howard considers far too cold for any sane person to swim in. However, even I wasn't tempted when Iain and Helen suggested we try out Roaring Meg. The location was stunning, the weather was beautiful but I still wasn't tempted.

Iain and Helen swimming in Roaring Meg

And I suspect my decision not to join them was a good one because Helen did seem to have problems conversing when she came out principally because her teeth were chattering so much!

Once the kids had dried off we continued on to Queenstown. A stop at the wonderful Italian ice cream shop was followed for Howard and I by a trip on the gondola up to the Skyline Chalet. Needless to say, Iain and Helen opted to walk up! Once we were reunited at the top (we were forced to drink coffee whilst we waited) we all wandered over to look at the luge. It was plain to see that Helen was itching to have a go...Iain, I think it was fair to say, was less enthusiastic. However, male pride got the better of him and before we knew it they were both heading off to have a go. Somewhat fortuitously, they left their cameras with us...

Helen showing a pretty impressive technique... 

...and leaving Iain in her wake

And all too soon the holiday was over. Iain and Helen returned to the UK and we returned to our normal lives - if you can call our lives 'normal'! Howard, suitably refreshed, went back to the build with renewed vigour. Completing the decking, cabin and cockpit so that he could get the deck glassed before winter returned was his main goal at this point in time. That level of focus certainly did mean it seemed to come on in leaps and bounds. He started the glassing on the deck and suddenly Howard was back into his old familiar routine of sanding...and sanding...and yet more sanding!

However, this time it all seemed so much more tolerable. True, the surfaces he was working were for the most part reasonably easily accessible - and flat, which was a bonus - but there were also other things he could do inside the boat to help keep the boredom at bay.

"Hey, it's all coming on really well. Are you pleased with it?" I asked after having had my usual weekend review of what had changed over the week.

"It's OK I suppose!" was as enthusiastic a reply as I could elicit.

Blimey, men are funny creatures!