A plot twist

A lot can change in a week.

In Coffs Harbour last Wednesday morning, all that mattered to us was the weather. I got up early to check the latest BOM charts, forecasts and overnight observations. The wind was still coming from the south, but it was light, less than 5 knots. If we left soon, we could motor until it backed to the east and then the northeast....That was what we talked about over breakfast, I remember. It was a crisp clear morning last Wednesday, a lovely morning.

Today I was woken early by the clang and clatter of rubbish trucks on Darling St. It didn't occur to me to go to the BOM website. I could see the sun was shining and I knew from the radio that it would rain later on - which it has. I haven't thought about the wind, either its strength or its direction. Other things are bothering me - like how tired I am, for example. It's not just that we've been physically active, taking loads of stuff off the boat and re-organising the house and garden. I'm finding that "normal" activities like conversations around the kitchen table with more than one other person or driving to the supermarket exhaust me, chafe my tender nerves. Embarrassing, really. Yachties live quietly - not unsociably, but quietly. Re-entry into city life, I remember from last year, knocks you about. Thank goodness for the kids (Claudia, above, seemed genuinely delighted with her Vanuatu island dress). They forgive us our oddness, I think.

Panacea is tied up just along from Kukka in our marina for a few days, and Agnes and Bertil are watching our metamorphosis from yachties to city slickers with some amusement. "Look at you, you're are wearing a skirt, and nice shoes, and a jumper that won't keep out the wind," Agnes told me this morning. Yes, I opened my wardrobe and found these clothes, and masses of others, in it. But I haven't yet had a haircut. When that's done, most outward traces of the woman I have been for the past five months (the woman below, coming home from the sea) will be gone.



Pity.
I like being that woman. She'll make another appearance, but it won't be for a year or so. We've made some decisions which will keep us off the water for a while.

We have decided to put Kukka on the market.

Why?

Well, it's complicated.

These past two wonderful cruising seasons on the east coast of Australia and in Vanuatu have given us a taste for the cruising life. We want more, much more. We want to go further, and for longer.

Kukka is a very very fine boat, and we love her to bits. We'd gladly go anywhere in her. She sails like a witch (Alex's phrase) and she's so well set up now that when we dropped by the comprehensive ship chandlery in Noumea, neither of us could think of single thing we needed to buy (and believe me, we were in the mood for shopping after several months away from the temptation of retail honeypots),

However, she presents a couple of issues for us. The most important is the bed in the forepeak (V berth, is its correct name) and the way it works, or rather doesn't work, with Alex's creaky back.


Alex was last in the queue when spines were handed out, or so he says. His back (which was operated on 20 something years ago) is chronically stiff, and from time to time it gives him serious grief. In Vanuatu, for example, he twisted it lunging for the wind generator p0le when it popped a bolt (we were under sail at the time). He manages his pain in a common male way, by slurping back painkillers and anti-inflammatories, and retreating into himself. He spends a lot of time on a mattress. But on Kukka, though the mattress in the marital suite is very comfortable, the space up there is awkward and painful for him to climb into when his back is wracked with muscle spasm. It's easier for him to rest and sleep on the sea berth in the saloon (he stayed there for four weeks after the wind generator episode). While we could adapt and improve other things on Kukka to help him in bad back times (for instance, we could install an electric winch in the cockpit), we can't change the configuration of the V berth. It is where and how it is, and for most people that would be fine. It is for me, but I like to sleep with Alex!

If we're going to change boats because we'd like a different bed, we've decided we could also do with a bit more space. Not a whole lot, but an extra two to five feet in boat length would give us appreciably more volume down below without adding much to the degree of difficulty of sailing and maintenance. I could have a bigger galley. I'd like that. And if we're going to buy another boat, why not do so in Europe. and start our next adventure from the Mediterranean? You can see how this idea took root quickly once the seed was sown.

We're not quite sure how we're going to market Kukka yet. She's a rare bird in this part of the world, and we need to make sure she is seen by those who appreciate the quality of her build. Obviously, we need to tidy her up after this voyage. We'll get on with that soon, once we've surfaced and stabilised after re-entry.

Watch this space, as they say.