WW set the anchor alarm. It tells us if Django has drifted more than a set amount from her initial position. Due to changeable winds, it told us about this several times before he wearied of all its crying wolf and turned it off.
The other alarum was all mine. I'd tried to set our electronic clock/thermometer/barometer with absolutely no success, except to turn on the alarm---an alteration I had not noticed at the time. Somehow I managed to have it go off at 1 a.m. It has been silence ever since. I think it was really just rejoicing at being on the water again.
Rituals reasserted themselves as I made WW his breakfast and me my tea. Chris Parker told us about the weather as we abluted and ate. Then it was back to work.
WW started to try to build a replacement part for one of our winches. Then the mainsail needed to be rigged. This involved installing the outhaul to connect the sail's clew to the end of the boom. Then the traveller had to prepared to receive the mainsheet. The whole operation took very little time.
Our poor printed nylon Canadian flag had just about battered itself to death by the time we lowered it back in May. It now hangs in proud tatters at Lake Anne. We have new sturdier colours, sewn (yes, sewn!) by Le Flag Shop in Montreal. Before they could be raised, the mainsail had to be finished with. That done, the topping lift, which had been holding the boom in place, was no longer needed and could be used to raise our lovely new flag. While flags were on our mind, we also changed the halyard for our courtesy flag.
New colours with Spice Island Marina in the distance
Then WW gave me a glum look. "Time to finish changing the oil," he said despondently.
"I'm going to clean," I said with equal enthusiasm.
WW had started the oil change proceedings back in May, but had called a halt when he discovered that the mechanic in the DR had put the filters in so tightly, it was impossible to move them. Naturally, all that followed involved leaning into (or actually being inside) small dark spaces full of engine. The kaffeyeh and headlight really came into their own.
Meantime, I filled a bucket and scrubbed soles, walls, bulkheads, companionways, counters and, oh joy, the head. The boat gradually filled with the scent of environmentally friendly cleaning product.
WW discovered a system involving many turns of rope around the filter and a spanner which eventually freed the recalcitrant thing. Then there was a lot of oil draining and replacing, involving miles of paper towels and soapy scrubbing. The job was done. We were both delighted. I finished my cleaning the his work areas and it was time for a break.
Green banana salad, leftover kedgeree and mauby drink for lunch were followed by a little repose to let the midday heat go by.
During the afternoon, WW managed to fix the handheld windlass switch so I can once again raise the anchor without having to stand on an inconvenient tiny button in the middle of the foredeck.
RP in hand, I began the tedious task of restringing the trampoline, completing the stern side before making us a seriously Grenadian dinner: callaloo soup and bakes (which are, for reasons unclear, fried). It was my first effort at the soup and WW was most complimentary.
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