Saturday 14th July 12

It was inevitable I suppose that the pressure of three chaps of a certain age all cramped together in a small boat would begin to take it's toll.  Of course none of them have said anything directly but it's the little hints and comments that point in that general direction.  Then again it could be that I am suddenly receiving snippits from the crew-of-two about life on board and so I have a snapshot of life  through different eyes. 

I believe that the following comments may have been written and sent when the crew had taken a drink in a local bar in Cascais... 

At 20:45 hrs on Tuesday 10th July, The Kipper wrote:

'Not sure that it's wise to give them (the crew-of-two) the opportunity to speak, they should be treated like mushrooms, kept in the dark and buried in poo (I cleaned that up a bit).  The are a very scabby crew; giving them the right to speak is unheard of!'

Flippin eck!  Sometimes his 'Traffic Inspector' roots have a habit of breaking through to the surface - bet he was a tough Guv'nor.  At this point, The Scribe did remind The Idiot  Kipper that she was recording all of this and is writing it ALL down. He rather sulkily replied,

'Yes I know, I've nothing more to say....ever!'

Like we all believe that.....

While The Kipper was sulking and no doubt worrying about what the crew-of-two might reveal, I received the following from Steve:

'It seemed like I was Billy No Mates with the other two glued to their phones but then the flood gates opened!  Bob D and I may need a minute for this!'

At 20:49 hrs he wrote:

'At last the worms can turn.  Hmm, where to begin.  In his defence...lots of good calls on the weather.  However, the re-telling of stories features highly....'

At which point The Scribe felt it only fair to point out that it was his age and that he (Steve) would be that old one day.

He continued:

'He is a tinkerer!  Forever adjusting things!  Course, sails coming up and telling us that we have done so much and have so much to go when it's bloody miles and...'

The Scribe quietly beginning to wish she'd never asked...

'...What we really wanted him to do was put the kettle on while he was down and decide what he wanted for dinner!  Other than that,  things are just fine and dandy'.

Note to self: remind The Kipper not to fiddle - don't know how many times we've had that conversation. 

The Scribe tried to be helpful in relation to the tea and dinner thing by pointing out that telepathy rarely works and sometimes one has to use a form of verbal communication. 

By the Wednesday morning there had been a new outbreak of peace and love aboard Petra and things were back to normal.  It seems that the night before may have had something to do with the consumption of beers and The Kipper's monster G&Ts.  They planned to take the day off to go and visit Lisbon.  At 10:20 hrs, The Kipper wrote:

'The G&T's are my normal concoction (lethal), maybe a little exuberant with the gin last night!  If I can get them moving, off into Lisbon today.'

Steve confirmed that they were indeed having a day off and apologised for the sudden end to his texts of the night before - confirmed once again that the Gin was the undoing of him.  No word yet from little Bobbie D; I sincerely hope that the Gin has't undone him completely.

I received an update at 23:46 hrs;

'Had a good day in Lisbon, walked our socks off, had a nice lunch and stopped for a couple of beers.  Got bak to Petra, a gale was blowing, been out to dinner in Cascais and finished the day off with coffee and brandy.  A very satisfactory day off.  Hoping to make the short hop, 52 miles to Sines in the morning; that is if the wind doesn't have a say in the proceedings.'

By 06:52 the following morning they were underway again.

'The wind has died to nothing this morning.  We are moving on to Sines about 50 miles.  Would like to get there before the very strong sea breeze gets going during the evening.'

Later that day I received the following:

'Arrived at Sines at 18:30 hrs, 9 hours down wind sailing at 6 knots in 15 to 20 knots of breeze.  Brilliant!  Now anchored off the beach, G&T's in hand whilst I prepare dinner in the sunshine.  Not seen a cloud all day!  A great day, tomorrow due to round Cape St Vincent, Wow!.'

From this we can deduce my dear Watson that they had rather a good days sailing today.  Still no word from little Bobbie D - I hope Julie has heard from him otherwise I fear the Custom of the Sea may have been invoked and the other two have eaten him!

At 21:24 hrs on the Thursday evening The Kipper wrote:

'Been looking at the weather for the Straits, an easterly laventer starts on Sunday morning which means we have to do 25 miles in 48 hours.  We must average 5 knots to get through or be held up for a week!  We are leaving at 06:00 hrs and going for it!!!'

At 07:51 hrs on the Friday morning, it was confirmed:

'We left Sines at 06:00 and are on the way making best speed.  Have a N5-6 forecast so should make good progress but it is Friday 13th!  I can't see us making it through the Straits before the stonking easterly arrives on Sunday but we are going to give it a good try.'

A somewhat grumpy text was received from Steve:

'The Kipper got us out of our pits at sparrows fart this morning.  Had to haul anchor before tea!  Now making a dash for the Straits.'

And finally, a text from little Bobbie D - He's alive!  Julie...pop that life insurance policy back in that drawer....

'Just realised why you have not recieved my texts.  The Kipper gave me the wrong number, the sly git!  Real number now saved and the true story will soon be revealed.'

At 20:27 hrs on Friday evening, The Kipper wrote:

'Hi, we had a fantastic sail down to Cape Vincente, where we turn left for Gibraltar.  Across the Algarve they have a F7-8 blowing so have given up trying to get the Gib by Sunday morning, have put into Lagos safe and well if a little wind swept.  Will check the weather and decide how we will proceed from here.  Will probably be looking for a flight back from Gibraltar area on Thursday for Roger's 40th birthday party.  Feel very disappointed at the moment as the weather is putting everything in our way at every step.  Still, we will suceed eventually.'

His thoughts were backed up in a later text received at 22:21 hrs that eveing:

'Just having dinner, it will not now be possible to get through the Straits by Sunday, we had 45 mins in hand to make the tidal gate off Cape Trafalgar, it's well gone now, but it's not chilly, in fact the opposite, we haven't had a cloud for 3 days now, sun hat and cream essential.  As we had 3-4 metre waves with a 7 (35 knots) of wind.  Top speed surf recorded was 11.2 knots!  Had to gybe to make the turn, all very exciting!  You will be pleased to hear we all survived.'

The Scribe was eager to know who was on the helm and reached such heroic speeds:

'Steve was the culprit, verified on the max speed on the log.  My max was a mere 10.4.  Don't know if luck had anythig to do with it, well, according to Steve  it wasn't.  I'm buring after the wind, sun and salt spray.  So much spray around we had to wear waterproofs, spray was being blown off the top of the waves, faces were burnig when we got in.  All very exciting but not the time to start a 150 mile passage.'

So ladies and gentleman, there you have it; our intrepid sailors are currently in Lagos.  I must confess that as I used to sped the majority of my geography class in the thickie corner, I thought Lagos was in Africa!  I have looked it up and see that it looks like a very nice place to visit so it could be worse for them. 

In the mean time, I'm off to book the three of them appointments to see a liver specialist and then book them into The Priory for detox.