Hurry Up and Wait
Chapter 3- May 30, 2005
Re-stepping the mast on "Debryn Ruth."
Chapter 3. Hurry Up and Wait
Hurry up and
Its hard to believe a fortnight has already passed since we arrived in England. The drive down to Hamble was uneventful. Yes, my breakfast was exactly as predicted. Tony was in good form and I was pleased to get a picture of him as in my mind he signifies the starting point for our adventure. As we left the Royal Southern Yacht Club after breakfast to drive to Transworld Yachts to move aboard Debryn Ruth, Tony came running out with my credit card in hand. I’d forgotten it and he simply stated “Bon Voyage. I hope to see you again someday and hear of your travels…” Typical – short but warm. Bruce Moore asked me if we would have a christening ceremony for Debryn Ruth, breaking a bottle of champagne over her bow. I think Tony’s well wishes substituted nicely.
first three days were spent waiting for a low pressure system to move over
The weather was abysmal and Deb kept asking “is it always going
to be like this?”.
Bryan, the instructor we’d hired to sail with us for the first 12
days was apologetic and alternated between saying “its not usually like
this at this time of year” and “can’t control the weather”
followed by a guilty chuckle.
He knew he was being paid handsomely to sit around…
Nonetheless we did manage to squeeze in a shakedown trip to
Lymington and back
(20 miles RT)
ostensibly to check the mast out as we’d had it taken down to
check a loose spreader.
However, the real reason was when I was in the UK in April to buy
Debryn Ruth, Bryan and I had sailed to Lymington and discovered a place
that served a delicious shoulder of lamb in mint gravy...
After finishing the few odds and ends on our to do list which were not “must do’s” but “should do’s” the weather finally grudgingly cooperated and the winds abated below gale force 7. Bryan and I sat down to some weather charts and it didn’t take long to figure out that if we wanted to get any sailing in at all while he was with us we’d better strike off for France and give up our plans of going to Ireland. There were a string of depressions lined up towards the Irish South coast and 4 days of beating into gale force winds would have been torture.
Lamb in Mint Gravy.
Cemetary in Lymington