The creak of a mooring line. The tap of a halyard. The lap of water. Stargazer has come back to life, after her winter ashore. Her mast is re-stepped, her new instruments are commissioned, the gearbox oil topped off and the genoa bent on.
Below decks a 'teenager's bedroom' turmoil reigns. Necessitated by the requirement to simultaneously access engine, transducers and mast-wiring junction box during the first moments of relaunch.
Soon order is restored. I feel an inner contentment descend.
We have been fortunate. A weekend of calm sunny weather, perfect for antifouling, preceded our March the first lift slot . Which Wayne-the-crane held for us, notwithstanding the backlog of storm postponements.
Now we await the arrival of our new mainsail and the return of of our re-rigged boom.
The days lengthen. The sun strengthens. Provisions come aboard. We prepare to sail south.
To the east, "The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned." (The Second Coming, W B Yeats, 1921).
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