Monday, April 10, 2006


Life just gets in the way and blogging is always last in the queue because you have to sit down and make an effort, and my efforts have been concentrated into shoehorning our belongings into a boat, surviving for the first week with no water, no toilet and no power apart from the light given off by a lead lamp attached to shore power.

I suppose I should go back to the beginning and bore you all with the gory details of the transition from shore to water. Pin back your lugholes then while I moan for Scotland.

After arriving back from the Midlands we went to stay on the west coast with friends – about one and a half hours car ride each way to work and to the boat, which needed to be recomissioned, surveyed and dropped into the water, but as is life, nothing is ever as simple as you think its going to be, what I cannot understand is why, as a so called intelligent species we keep deluding ourselves. After lots of driving back and forth over long periods of the day and getting nowhere fast, the decision was made to move aboard. She was in the water, so what the hell.

And hell indeed is what it was for a few days. Well, you comfort loving city dwellers out there would probably call it hell, bloody inconvenient would be my take on it. Talking of convenience or rather conveniences, the one we had to use was across another boat (the one we were attached to) round a pontoon, punch in a numerical code into a key pad and behold luxurious toilets and showers,

I am no longer a sweet young thing with taught muscles inside and out (but I would thank God, if he existed, that I don’t have a prostate). When I wake up in the morning I need to go, not in five minutes time, NOW. So picture this, a middle aged woman, still in her jim jams, very long hair standing on end, eyes bulging with the effort of “holding her water” leaping over a cruiser, landing on a large wooden trawler, running around it’s deck, jumping on to the pontoon and going like the clappers with eyes now rolling back in their sockets with the effort, chanting a four digit code and saying “hash” as if her life depended on it. Oh the joy and relief when finally the hash key is pressed and like Aladdin’s cave the door to the ablutions swings open. The saunter back, with a smug and satisfied feeling though is almost worth it. Well, no it isn’t actually.

Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink. Except if you go to the tap at the end of the pontoon and fill your bottles – enough said, you get the picture, and the lead lamp speaks for itself.

Week two is now at an end and we have water coming out of the taps – what a novelty. The lights come on and the toilet macerates like a good un. What joy can come from the simple things in life.

I found more storage space in the forward berth, you’d have thought I had won the lottery, instead of a place to store the spare linen. Little things please little minds, but somehow it’s far more satisfying and fulfilling than that self destructive career ladder.

So, you’ve probably gathered, this isn’t really a moan but a celebration of a totally different way of life and despite the inconveniences I know it will be worth it in the long run.

So now it’s re-wiring for 240 volts, getting the fly bridge back on and connected and converting the generator to 240 volts, getting the engines singing and away we go. Sounds a doddle – convert that to around 8 weeks more work.

We’ve nicknamed our impatience “Marina Fever” as opposed to Cabin Fever – it’s very nice here, but, we want to wander at will.

The most interesting part of this journey so far however are the people that also live in this Marina. .

So, to be continued very soon.

Kats :0).


Blogger colcam said...

Nice one Kats, all sounds good - I'm just thanking my lucky stars I never stumbled across you on the way to the loo of a morning!

3:52 PM  
Blogger Lightning said...

Good to hear that things are coming together nicely, you will be off wandering to your hearts content soon as the good weather appears.

6:28 PM  
Blogger Steven said...

I'm glad to hear you're on your boat. Sounds like you're almost there. I am intrigued though about the people who also live on the marina!!! I'm watching this space.

7:41 PM  
Blogger Gaea Phoenix said...

Fabulous! I'm so happy for you! Ryan & I are experiencing similar problems with the place we're going to move into. We were supposed to move in May 19, but the other tenants' house won't be done, so we had to extend to June 6 and that STILL may not be enough. *sigh* Drama. Highly annoying. But we're pretty sure it's worth it. I just want to be in there already.

My blogging has major lag right now, too, while I get through the spring. Oddly enough, once I get to summer things are going to slow a little.

Are your neighbors cool interesting, or is it deranged interesting?

8:15 AM  
Blogger kats said...

Thank you Colcam - I wouldn't like to meet me either!

Lightening - I sure hope so.

Steven - watch this space

Gaia - neighbours - a bit of both!

No internet connection on the boat and no wi-fi hot spot - *sigh* So I shall enlighten you on the neighbours this weekend and upload it at work on Tues.

9:37 AM  
Blogger Kim Ayres said...

Glad to read you're on board with a toilet at last. I'm really looking forward to reading how everything progresses!

10:16 PM  
Blogger Gavin Corder said...

Hello darling! And Happy Eater! Thank you once again for thinking of me with an e-card!

10:03 PM  
Blogger Gavin Corder said...


Freudian perhaps?


10:04 PM  
Blogger The Door Steward said...

Sounds like you are having fun haha! Thanks for the e-cards, been ages since we've spoken! DS

10:50 AM  

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