We arrived!

We arrived in Pauillac and are now safely tied to the dock! One of our first human sights was a woman walking her poodle.

so French!

No Internet connection right now, but hopefully soon. So this is just a quick message via the sat phone.

UK - France - Passage Day 7

Weather: Clouds seem to burn off early in the morning and the days and nights are warmer, so we are expecting another a fine day
today; yesterday we actually wore shorts.

Sailing conditions: More downwind and light sailing, again a bit more motoring yesterday, and seas relatively flat. A little
wing-on-wing with the screacher (our light wind sail) until the wind picks up too much. Not a great fast passage, but mostly easy.

General Comments: Although we are truly appreciating the warmer weather, and the bright sunshine of the day, we are already finding
mosquitoes in the boat by early evening. for the last two nights now! A killing patrol is in order, but I fear we are already
losing the battle; who knows what they will be like once we are actually within sight of land!

The past few nights the bioluminescence trailing off the back of each hull make the boat seem like a pair of rocket ships blasting
through the night waters, it's magical to watch and I hope the millions of creatures we have disturbed forgive us for ploughing
through their waters; they put on a great show. [Kyle] It's not just the boat wake that lights up the seas. What in the day time
are white caps, at night become self laminating flashes for the same reasons, watching the sea is as romantic as watching the night
stars.

Kyle amazed me yesterday by telling me that we have now moved South enough to be at the same latitude as Portland, Oregon (where the
boat hails from). Portland for me always seems such a cold place (compared to France), and it is hard for me to remember that
Britain is on the same latitude as Siberia, given our relatively mild climate (thanks to the ocean currents).

We are nearly there of course, and now we are stalling at the entrance to the Gironde, waiting for slack water to sail up the river
on the flood (with the current); entering on the ebb is reported to be quite treacherous. So far even though we are only 8 or 10
miles from shore, it is too hazy to see land, so no comments yet on the beauties of France.

We are almost there but we'll still not be able to rest and celebrate since our first task will be to prepare the mast for removal
(remove the sails, disconnect all the rigging, no mean feat). We will also have to find officials for the legal procedures of
entering the country.

Food: Salad for Lunch, Pasta for dinner

Progress: Yesterday we made 88.16nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 571nm, and have 45nm (routed line -
to Pauillac now, which includes 29 newly added nautical miles for the adjusted destination) to go.

UK - France - Passage Day 6

Weather: A beautiful day yesterday, sunny, warm, wonderful. This morning overcast, more rain expected.

Sailing conditions: Yesterday was so calm most of the day we made very little progress except for a while under motor. The sea was
so flat it's hard to be sure you are on an ocean, great for sleeping, not for progress and most unexpected for the notorious Bay of
Biscay. Frustrating as it seems the short distance to go is still a LONG way off.

General Comments: All the motoring yesterday gave us a chance to top up all our electronics. This was nice since along with my
French lessons, I'm also enjoying a number of my favorite PodCasts of which I had a huge backlog before leaving the UK (The Dave
Gorman Show, Car Talk, Naked Scientist, The complete guide to Everything, Friday night Comedy, and This American Life; a nice range
of fun, ridiculous, academic, and interesting).

Kyle too has been studying his French; we still can't understand 90%+ of what is said on the VHF radio so it's clear we need to be
studying. He also had a good spring clean of the boat, what a hero.

Food: Chinese Vegetable Noodles for Lunch, Pizza for dinner.

Progress: Yesterday we made 73.56nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 511.29, and have 110nm (routed line)
to go.

UK - France - Passage Day 5

Weather: Yuk. Overcast, Dark storm clouds about and throughout the night; still not shorts
weather. No longer reliably sunny, now alternating between cracks of sunshine and bad thunderstorms.

Sailing conditions: Shifted to upwind, uncomfortable sailing, so with that and the surrounding storms we are holding off and hanging
out. Good wind crossing the channel and the first half day along the coast; Maryanne fought with sails up, down and reefed, storm
gusts over night, etc until the midnight hand over where things really turned nasty. We spent a lot of time with sails down, so our
good early progress yesterday didn't last.
General Comments: With strong off shore winds, we had two birds come and take refuge aboard Footprint, unfortunately one didn't
survive the night and the first left a our point closest to land so we hope he did just fine. All the VHF radio chatter is in
French, and it is obvious we have a LONG way to go despite our months of effort (with the radio static and rapid conversation, we
only understand the odd words).
During Kyle's watch yesterday he decided to change the clocks; well some of them, not all, so we would be on French time. Not only
had he changed the clocks, he'd changed the watch pattern (in his head). He didn't share any of this with me, and seemed upset when
I woke him an hour early since I was using my watch. We could not agree on the right time to use (I thought we'd already agreed to
stick to BST for the passage) so eventually we changed all the clocks and watches on the boat, switched to a different watch sheet
(so we are effectively do exactly the same thing at the same times), and then he decided it was crazy to have changed but 'we've
done it now' [Kyle] Now hang on a minute. I DID tell her I had changed the clocks when I woke her for her watch. It seemed a simple
enough thing to do but the way she reacted, you'd think I told her we were sailing the rest of the way backwards. [Maryanne]And I
swear he somehow stole an hour from my rest/sleep period.

Food: Leftovers for lunch and pasta for dinner, simple, easy, quick.
Progress: Yesterday we made 111nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 406.16, and have 198nm (routed line) to
go.

UK - France - Passage Day 4

Weather: Overcast, light drizzle, thunder and lightning overnight (luckily from a distance, no closer than a mile); still not shorts
weather.
Sailing conditions: Still mostly downwind, currently on a beam reach, mixed sailing mostly with the screacher.

General Comments: More Dolphins to play! Just after I reported not many boats around we noticed a fishing vessel actively trawling
that we would need to avoid. Just as we were trying to understand just how far behind it was safe to pass, it stopped in its tracks.
At first we were unsure why, but we soon decided that it was letting us pass ahead of it. This proved a difficult gift, as the
trawler was still moving, just very slowly, and to pass ahead of it, we still needed to shift to more downwind sailing, blanketing
our foresail, and making our progress slower, as all the time it still edged forwards - collision course. We all came very close,
less than a boat length, and we had to look up at his bow. All the time we tried to call the fishing boat on the radio to confirm
his intention, but without any luck. They didn't come out and swear at us, and after we'd passed they set off again, so I hope we
understood him correctly (otherwise there is a French trawler out there swearing about American sailors).

[Kyle] At about noon yesterday, against a very strong current, we made a very slow pass about 3 miles off Lands End and the Lizard.
It was kind-a cool to see it from sea since Maryanne and I had visited it from land a couple of weeks before we set off cruising in
2008. When we saw it from land it was in March, on a very windy day, and we clearly remember thinking it was not a nice place to be.
The conditions were much better this time and visibility was such that it appeared as a grey silhouette on a gray background - but
still I could recognize it and it was cool to be back, it really does look like a lizard from sea!

At the midnight watch change Maryanne was experiencing a frustrating lull caused by an approaching storm and had clearly had it with
going back and forth on deck to change sails, once she was asleep after a couple of heavy downpours and a lightening show, the wind
came back up again and we were able to start heading in the right direction again. All was well until the morning rig check (we do
two a day during a passage) revealed a line to be trailing in the water; it turned out one of the screacher sheets had fallen in the
water and had now made a hitch (knot) around the rudder. The line could not be pulled up from either direction; eventually the only
solution was to climb down to the rudder and free it from underwater. I did what I could by timing the waves and using a boat hook
(actually 2, we lost one overboard!!!), but eventually I had no choice but to climb to the bottom step and have a wave soak my best
warm socks.

We have just crossed over to the French side of the channel and are passing through the shipping channel (no ships so far).

Food: Salad for Lunch and a seafood soup/stew concoction for Dinner with bread fresh from the oven (no, I didn't make it, just
purchased those half baked ones - so easy).

Progress: Yesterday we made 99.65nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 327.37nm, and have 284nm (routed
line) to go.

UK - France - Passage Day 3

Weather: Not a cloud in the sky for the last 24 hours! Winds are slowly increasing, but it's still and easy-on-the-bones passage.
The temperature is warming, but we are still wrapped up well against the temperature and wind. We are expecting the wind to continue
to increase and possibly a thunderstorm or two later. The seas remain very flat

Sailing conditions: We continue to find ourselves sailing downwind, and when the wind hasn't been too shifty, we've used the
screacher (our light wind forward sail) and often been wing-on-wing. You can see from our progress though it has been a relatively
slow sail, due to the really light winds.

General Comments: Kyle was concerned about our low battery and ran the engine for an hour overnight, but otherwise it's been
straightforward sailing. The Bristol Chanel is a cut running to the river Severn, that divides Wales and Cornwall, and we are
crossing at its widest point (over 100miles). As soon as we entered we were greeted by a small pod of dolphins; they kept falling
back and racing again to catch up with us (we were obviously too slow for them to have too much fun, so they made us appear faster).
Dolphins so obviously alter course to come and play, they are magical, and it beats a day in the office any time. Kyle went forward
to see them at their best, while I steered and squealed with delight and applauded each time I saw them approach

We've seen very little traffic, but every so often there is a container ship on the horizon, we even saw a tall ship in full sail
off in the distance. The radio is a different matter, we can hear calls from multiple coast guard stations and yesterday was a busy
day with 3 separate life boat calls during just one of my watches, including one ship that reported itself sinking and then lost
radio contact (hopefully that is just due to a lost battery and nothing more serious!). Being on watch in such mild and uneventful
conditions leaves plenty of time to do other things. I've been finally catching up with a book about travelling the French canals by
a couple that have gone before us (thanks to cirrus cat), and repeating my French lessons all while keeping a good eye on the empty
sea. Yesterday I was treated to several hours to a coast guard (or military) exercise between a small ship and a helicopter for
hours as they drifted along practicing something as I sailed at a snails pace in the same direction.

[Kyle]Our non-stop passage to France is deceptively long, looking on the map we can see that we're never very far from land, but in
reality on this passage (except for only a couple of glimpses through the summer haze Ð the tip of Anglesey and St David's head) we
haven't seen land at all after leaving the Ribble. This gives the feel of a much longer ocean passage. The distance we'll be
travelling is equivalent (approximately) from Norfolk to Boston on the East coast of the USA. It seems like it should be shorter
since France is "next door" to England after all, but I guess we didn't plan our passage between the shortest distance between them
(Dover - Calais).

Food: Nothing fancy - Fajitas last night, and leftovers (Breakfast burritos) this morning

Progress: Yesterday we made 74.57nm (yikes, the wind is light!), So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 226.44nm,
and have 383nm (routed line) to go. If you've been following on each day, you will have noticed that the numbers don't seem to add
up, this is because we only measure distance through the water and sometimes the tides work with us and against us, also we end up
not travelling exactly on the route we've planned, so a few extra miles are clocked up with that.

UK - France - Passage Day 2

Weather: Clear skys and OK (cold at night)

Sailing conditions: Still more downwind sailing, but wind is now very light, so after a good push yesterday morning, we needed to
motor in the afternoon, and are now sailing along about a slow amble. The sea has been almost mirror calm at times - certainly not
something we've ever experienced here before!

General Comments: Kyle spotted a dolphin this morning! (It didn't want to play, but just got on with its own life). We are so
glad the weather is cleared up (the sun shine helps) but we are struggling with the tides which of course are half the time against
us. Maryanne had one short bout of seasickness Wednesday morning, but Kyle has been fine, the weather is really too mild to be an
issue. I think we are also settling into our watch schedule, especially important for Kyle who only landed from the USA the day we
set off!

Progress: Yesterday (Wednesday) we made 102.53nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 138.88nm, and have 480nm
(routed line) to go.

Food: Last night we had an Indian (ready meal / package); we were supposed to have it the previous night before heading off (always
good to have spicy food to ward off the seasickness... Oops), but I dropped a box of eggs so we had scrambled eggs on toast
instead... Otherwise we've been doing lots of snacking thanks to Dave's graze (a food supply package from a colleague at work) and a
bag of other goodies; we're unlikely to lose weight on the trip.

UK - France - Passage Day 1

General Comments: We left Preston Marina as planned, but unusually favorable winds gave us a problem, it was keeping the water out
of the river, so it wasn't exactly a fast get away while we hung out in the lock! We eventually edged our way out of the shallow
water and found ourselves out to sea before dark.

Weather: Describe weather cool and overcast. Despite summer arriving in the UK, the nights are very cold and we are very grateful
to our enclosure, foul weather gear and hand warmers

Sailing conditions: We've been sailing down wind with the main and screacher until the wind was too much for the screacher - so now
just with the main. With the good winds, we've had a much calmer Irish sea, even now where we are wind against tide, it isn't too
bad (1m high waves)

Progress: Yesterday we made 63.35nm, So far on this trip we have travelled (through the water) 63.35nm, and have 568nm (routed line)
to go.

Haulout - the dirty details

[Kyle]Day 2

Since it was late on the day of the lift, as soon as Footprint was secure, the yard staff left us for the night. Maryanne came home from work to a boat scattered with tools and supplies. Yard dirt was tracked all over the decks, along with a winter’s accumulation of algae, bird droppings and grime. The bottom was especially horrible. Our black bottom paint had mostly faded to the blue under layer, making her look horribly bruised from her last year’s fight with the Irish Sea. The water in the Preston basin is not exactly the cleanest and the whole waterline was ringed with dried brown and green scum, like the ring around an ancient bathtub that had never been cleaned. The whole mess looked completely insurmountable. It was very depressing.


We're hoping she'll scrub up nice!
But help was on the way. The first thing the next morning (a Saturday), Chris showed up with the power washer and gave us a brief tutorial on its use. I donned the full foul weather outfit and set to work. Oh, what a marvellous thing a power washer is! If they ever make one that weighs 2 ½ pounds and fits in a cutlery drawer, we are definitely getting one! What a great wet time I had spending the rest of the morning blasting away at a winter’s accumulated gunk while Maryanne stayed dry running errands and fixing countless things inside. It turns out Footprint is still (mostly) white underneath it all. She’s definitely beyond boat show condition, but she looked a lot better afterwards.

Once the top couple of layers were off, we spent the rest of the remaining daylight getting as much done as we could. When it finally got too late to work, we staggered to the showers for a wash, returned to the boat, cleared off some space to sit and eat and then went to bed. The next day, I headed off at 3:30am for another week in the U.S. and left Maryanne to chip away at our haulout list without me.

Maryanne called me during the week and told me she had arrived home to find the boat gone. A brief wander around revealed it to be on the other side of the crane at the water’s edge. The marina needed our spot so they moved us during the day. They had done the same careful job with shoring as before and had even gone to the trouble of moving the little pyramid of heavy wooden and concrete blocks that I had built the week before as a way to climb on board (a staircase).

When I got home, it was right to work. Maryanne had prepared the boat the previous weekend and taped off the waterline so I would be ready to go. Usually, after a long workday and then a long flight home, I allow myself a couple of hours nap before doing much, but this time, I just didn’t have the luxury. I immediately covered myself in protective gear and set to sanding our old bottom paint off. Typically, all the prep that’s needed before applying a new coat of paint is a good clean of the current layer, maybe a light hand sanding. This time, our old paint was not compatible with the new (or any other available), and had to be completely stripped off.


The grand entrance, and one grubby husband
It was horrible. It was all overhead work while lying on the ground or squatting. There was dust everywhere. It even got in the ventilation holes of my safety goggles. By the time the sun went down, I had been up for 36 hours and had little to eat. I was knackered. Despite all the protective gear I was so covered with filth that I looked like I just stepped out of a mine at the end of my shift. There was no way I was going to bed like that, or even sitting down to eat, or even going inside. I had to get to the showers. Rivers of gray mud went down the drain. I took three complete showers one after the other before getting down to clear water and then I took another just for good measure.

Day 3?

I had planned to start painting the next day, but the forecast called for intermittent showers so we decided to try and get as much of the hulls waxed as possible, plus a few other jobs. Of course, for waxing to be done, the boat needs to be clean and she was now covered in dust. She actually looked worse than the first day. If you’re thinking we should have power washed after sanding, we thought of that too. We actually needed to blast the bottom clean to prepare for sanding, so that wouldn’t have worked.

The dust was less worked in than the previous grime and came off with just a brush and a hose. We managed enough of a dry weather window to get everything below the rubrail waxed as well as prime the parts of the bottom that had gone down to bare gelcoat.

We finished as usual about half an hour after the light ran out, straining to see in the late twilight. Then came the routine of the shower and the clearing of space for a quick meal and the collapse into exhausted sleep.

Also, while in the yard we weren't using our holding tank, so the need for any middle of the night tinkle necessitated getting dressed and making a ¼ mile walk to the marina office in the cold for relief. The yard was really starting to get old.

Day 4?

The forecast was finally for some dry weather for the next few days, so it was time to start painting. The first coat was our usual blue. This is meant to alert us when the upper black layer is wearing off. We always get strange looks from people when we finish the first coat and have a boat with a carefully painted blue bottom. For some reason, it just doesn’t look right. Usually, nobody says anything until we cover it with black the next day, then they all congregate appreciatively and confide in us that they thought there was something wrong with us when they thought we were going to finish with the blue. I had a similar thing happen with my last marriage.

Back in

Maryanne was back at work and left me to put on the black layer as well as all of the final touch-ups.

The following morning after eleven days perched on blocks and a flurry of last minute jobs, Footprint was finally lowered gently back into the water. We had managed to chip away job by job from sun-up until dark and had managed to get her looking and feeling shipshape again. She actually looked kind of…nice.

The weather that day had improved to partly sunny and people were strolling along the waterfront in small groups. A small crowd had gathered to watch the show of Footprint going in and the subsequent bridge opening. Once again, I somehow managed not to do anything embarrassing as I pulled away for our berth. I just backed her away from the wall slightly and did a little pirouette to reverse direction, all like it was on purpose. At the dock a different crowd watched me swing her into place with the stern a couple of inches from the pontoon where I casually stepped off and pulled her in like I was walking a well behaved dog. Oh, this was just too good to be true. Two in a row? With an audience? I am just asking for it next time.

I still had a few hours before Maryanne got home from work. I used the time tuning our rig to the specs for real sailing and not just sitting around a marina. I filled the tanks and scrubbed the decks of all of the tracked yard dirt. Then I gave the inside a good cleaning including a treat of fresh, clean, new post-haulout floor mats. I ended up with just enough time for a shower and shave before she got home.

For the first time in a long time, it feels like we’re ready to go somewhere again. We still have a few more jobs to do, but most are minor and should be easy to accomplish in the next month or so. The bulk of them are no longer hanging over our heads. It finally does feel like it’s downhill from here, at least boat wise. Of course, we still have a couple of languages to learn, routes to plan and weather to worry about, but I’ll take that over lying on my back getting covered with toxic paint dust any day.

Haulout

[Kyle]After spending what seemed like months with only a day at a time the boat, I finally got a few days off to get some real work done on Footprint. Near the end of our long winter jobs list was pulling the boat out of the water for some much needed maintenance.

I had originally planned our haulout to be far enough in advance to allow for the contingency of bad weather, etc., but when my April schedule arrived at work, all of our backups were effectively eliminated. It suddenly became very important to get it done at the first available opportunity.

Of course, nothing went as planned. As the day approached, the weather forecast for Preston was for really high winds – almost assuredly in excess of what the crane can handle, not to mention the difficulty of getting Footprint from the dock to the pickup spot. By the time I arrived home, the forecast was for winds of 30 knots, gusting to 50. The second day wasn’t looking good either. The third day had a forecast that was hoping or a two-hour lull in the afternoon. Maybe we could get it done then. I sure hoped so because the fourth day was everybody’s day off and there wouldn’t be enough personnel to perform a lift again until after I returned to work.

I decided to kill some of the intervening time and stress with a nice, long run. As I left, I noticed another boat moored to the wall by the crane. This meant that even if the predicted lull did come later, Footprint would be second in line for a lift. I had serious doubts as to whether they would have time before closing to get both boats out of the water. I was so worried about it that I cut my run short in order to make sure I would be back before closing time to discuss the situation with the marina. When I got there, Chris, the Manager, confirmed that there would be no way to get both boats out in the lull. The day after that looked better and he was willing to bring on extra staff for the day if it was necessary to perform our lift. Well, that was a relief. Maybe this wasn’t going to be total disaster after all.

Chris continued, “Now, we have another problem. At first, you’re going to be angry, but by the time we’re done talking, you’re going to be happy.”

Well, we’ll see about that. He proceeded to tell me the swing bridge between our dock and the crane, which even our dinghy can’t get under without an opening, had suffered some sort of mechanical malfunction and could not open. At that point, I wasn’t actually angry, just really worried and disappointed. He explained that they hoped to have the part the afternoon of the lull and then also hoped some more that it would fix the problem, but if they didn’t it would be at least after the weekend before they would be able to try again. Not good. Chris kept asking me things like how badly did I really need to be out that particular weekend. Oh, this was not good. I told him it wasn’t good and again he promised to make sure I ended up happy. He asked me to give him a few minutes to think and promised to call later.

I used the intervening time to run to the hardware store to buy supplies for the haulout. He called me when I got back and explained his plan: In the event the bridge was not fixed by 2:00pm the two days hence, he would call a mobile crane to haul us out about half an hour later on the near side of the bridge. They’d plop us right there in the marina parking lot. We’d have power and water and the showers would be really close. The only downside would be that we wouldn’t be behind the fence. I had pretty hard time figuring out how I could be upset about this and had to eventually admit that I was indeed happy and went back to getting the jobs that I could in the meantime.

A couple of days later about an hour before they were supposed to test the bridge, I was back in the same hardware store buying even more stuff. Chris called me and said they think they got it fixed and were going to do a test swing in five minutes, could I be ready? I asked for ten and rushed back to Footprint for a very hasty departure.

I was relieved that the howling wind of the last couple of days had completely stopped, which made manoeuvring much easier. Since this is England, the wind was, of course, replaced by a cold, straight down rain. No matter. I threw on a rain jacket and cast off.

Then the most amazing thing happened. As I cleared the float and made the turn into the fairway everything changed. Suddenly, I was once again a sailor at the helm of my boat, not a prisoner of winter trapped aboard an algae and bird dropping covered little cave. For the briefest of moments, I was free again, even if it was only for a very short distance.

The bridge did open (Whew). Once through, I was gratified to find that I could still bring Footprint to a perfect stop with half an inch between her fenders and the wall as if I’d been doing it three times a day for the seven months I hadn’t even touched the helm.


Footprint gets a pretty nice crane lift out of the water
The guys at the yard were ready to go and had the slings attached within minutes. So far, every time Footprint has been hauled out, it has been with a travelift or some other type of mobile crane. The boat is pulled into the lifting berth, where she is then picked up and then driven to her spot in the yard. Preston Marina has a fixed crane. It is bolted to the ground at the edge of the channel. All of the boats hauled out for the short term spend their time in the yard in the shadow of the crane. Longer-term haulouts are put on trailers and driven to their spots. This means that space on the ground around the crane is very limited and packed with boats.

The spot allocated for Footprint was on the other side of that big monohull hauled out just before us (and before the bridge broke). In order to get Footprint to her spot, it was necessary to lift her out of the water, swing her under the sterns of two boats through a channel with no more than six inches to spare (as in three on each side), and then slide her in sideways to her spot with the crane boom passing over the intervening boat.

It was an impressive exercise to watch. Chris directed the whole thing with only the most barely discernible hand signals and not a word spoken. The crane operator, Jack, followed looking through crazed windows and moved the beast in increments of an inch. This was made more impressive by the fact that the only straightforward movement of the crane is up and down. Lowering the boom means the boat goes both down and away. Swinging the crane takes the boat in an arc – some forward, some sideways. In the end, Footprint squeaked into her spot as the rubrail at the bow kissed the anchor roller of the boat ahead. The boom of the crane was just brushing the backstay of the boat behind. Now that’s a shoehorn job! In the end, Chris decided to give us a little more breathing room by using a forklift to pull the bow of the boat ahead away six more inches. It turns out it was his boat. The one he’s had for thirty-two years.

Once it came time to lower Footprint down on blocks, the guys at Preston did the most careful and conscientious job I’ve ever seen of blocking her up. So far, along with Bobby’s boatyard in Sint Maarten, our count of yards we like is at two. Well done, guys.

Spring is Coming

[Maryanne]Poor Kyle is suffering with several new terms and conditions at work. He's not got the worst of it, but many of his flight 'privileges' have been revoked, and commuting is now a whole lot more expensive all of a sudden. This, a miserable winter, and itchy feet have us seeking to leave England sooner than planned, and we are targeting Easter-ish (2011) as a departure date. That is maybe only 6 or 7 weekends away.

As you might imagine, life has suddenly got crazy; lists are everywhere on things to buy, do, to be done, and to check over. Other plans have been cancelled (we were hoping to visit York in March, oh well). Charts need to be bought, routes to be planned, languages to learn/brush up on, and a boat to haul out and paint. PANIC MODE!!!

At least that is how I see life right now.. Thankfully the waters have thawed out, and we see sunshine most days right now (while wrapped up still with hat and gloves). Over to Kyle.

[Kyle]The bitter chill of Winter seems to be finally starting to wane in Northern England. The amount of sunlight is increasing by more than four minutes per day. It’s finally not completely dark when Maryanne arrives home after a long workday or when we make the early morning walk to the train station. We generally take the same train in the morning. Maryanne gets off at Manchester Piccadilly. I stay on until the train terminates at the airport.

Having all of the extra daylight has made it much easier to get on with our winter boat jobs list. I had a large block of days at the boat as January transitioned into February and was able to get most of the major work finished that needs to be done. Since then, neither of us has been able to grab more than a day or two at a time or even together. The remaining jobs seem to be frustrating our efforts to tick them off. Something always comes up that makes them take two or three times as long as they should - we don’t have the part. The part we have doesn’t work and has to be sent back. The new one’s back ordered…

As the sailing season approaches, time seems to be accelerating. We are definitely feeling the pressure of the list and are both keenly aware that, although there is still a lot of time until Spring, the number of free days we each have with which to prepare is almost certainly down to single digits. Next week, I’ll only be home for half a day before it’s time to haul Footprint out of the water. Then it will be long, grubby days for both of us as we work hard to transform Footprint from a grubby, cluttered, slime-stained winter cave to the clean, shiny, freshly serviced ocean-going vessel we love.

The weather has finally reached the point at which is it above freezing most of the time. That and the longer days make it impossible for these two sailors to help but sniff the air and start looking toward the horizon. It feels like it has been so long through this winter since we have been out for a nice sail. We both find our heads filled with dreams of warmer weather and new adventures in strange places. It seems unreal that, before we know it, we’ll be sitting on deck, one hand on the wheel, craning our necks as we check that the sails are trimmed.

Boxing Day

[Maryanne]Firstly - my apologies for this late post... Kyle gave it to me ages ago but I've been too busy to get it up on the blog... Oops!

Secondly - for those in the USA, Boxing day is a UK holiday, and the day after Christmas Day. I've not real knowledge of why it's called boxing day but there are a number of theories you can check out. Most involve money in boxes given for services over the year from the rich to their staff/servants or other lowly service providers.

For me it means an extra day's holiday from work.

[Kyle]Since Maryanne was unsuccessful at killing me on our Christmas Day hike, she checked that our insurance was paid up and then took us back to the Lake District for another day’s hiking in the freezing cold. This time, we went a bit further north to Ullswater and in particular Gowbarrow Fell and the local waterfalls of Aira Force and High Force. {Maryanne: For those of a literary nature - Aira Force is mentioned in no less than three William Wordsworth poems}

The trail we chose started by running alongside a stream (Aira Beck) that had frozen into cathedrals of ice at every cascade. In a couple of spots, the trail froze into a slightly canted slab of ice that was completely un-scalable, forcing us to claw our way through the bushes to the side in order to get past {think comedy moments!}.



At 65' max, they may not be the most impressive of waterfalls in the world, but they provided a frozen kingdom for us to explore and an excuse to venture out on a rare day away from jobs of any sort!
After the last waterfall, the trail turned and climbed steeply to the summit of Gowbarrow Fell. The wind had picked up from the day before and ominous clouds were moving in. It seemed so much colder than the day before, but the views were beautiful from up there.

From the summit, we turned into the freezing wind and descended the snow covered trail. For some reason, it seemed the trail had a lot more down than up. We spent ages descending at the very limits of traction expecting to fall and start a long slide at any moment.

We managed to make it all of the way down to the last set of steps before the parking lot when my feet came out from under me and I landed with all of my weight on my right elbow. Ow! It swelled up a bit for a while, but I’m fine. Mostly I was just frustrated that I got so close to having a successful hike when it happened.


Views from the Fells and down to Ullswater
We treated ourselves to a nice pub meal on the way home, including a giant chocolate dessert. Not a bad day at all!

When we got home, I checked the flights to work and was horrified to find that all of the flights had been cancelled for two days because of the blizzard in the northeast USA, just the reverse of the British one that had kept me from getting home for three days. Now the flights were all hopelessly overbooked and my only hope for getting to work was to leave early the next day, three days early. I was actually lucky enough to get the last seat out the first day, actually sat on the plane, when they cancelled that flight out from under us. It made for a completely wasted day of sitting around at the airport. By the time we got home, it was already time to get to sleep so we could get up in time to try for the next day’s flights.

After another long kerfuffle, I managed to make it to EWR. I am definitely one of the lucky ones. At the moment, I’m looking at a lot of snow from a hotel full of people who will be stuck here for days. Tomorrow, I start trying to get some of them where they’re trying to go.

[Maryanne]While Kyle has been holed up in a hotel in Newark, and busy working since Christmas, I've been travelling about the UK visiting with friends and family - 900 miles of rental car driving. I managed to see all my nephews and my niece, and catch up with most of my family. Exactly what I returned to the UK to spend more time doing - so I was happy. The focus was obviously family, but I also managed to stop by and see our friends from Cirrus Cat in Yeoville, Summerset. Thanks to everyone that fed me, and entertained me over this last week. :-)

Approximate route taking me 900miles around England - provided by Google Maps