Wet paint

Nothing really meriting a photo again today, but a few more jobs ticked off. First we refitted the bulls eye, sticking its broken edges together with clear sealant before lowering it into place. The broken bits can't be seen once it's in place. What we have learnt from this exercise is that the top layer of the cabin top, under the steel, is ply (rather than a double thickness of wood) and this is delaminating to wonderful wavy effect where the bulls eye leaked over the years. I would suspect, on the basis of those 1970s/80s photos that the cabin sides were ply too, were it not for the porthole which definitely is surrounded by two layers of wood.

My next job was to take off the cabin slide and wire brush/scrape/sand all the flakey scabby bits off and get a new coat of paint on it. Then I turned my attention to the cabin top, removing stray bits of sealent and cleaning it up. Next, I set to painting the port cabin side, including the engine room, from handrail to gunnel. This turned out very nicely, and I was having a well deserved lunch when I was informed that it was raining. Just a light shower, I thought, as forecast.... but no, it rained solidly - and heavily - for the rest of the afternoon.

I retired to the back cabin with a tin of cream gloss and Radio 4, while Jim looked at the exhaust. Another hour or so later and it was still raining and everyone else had gone home. Now this morning, while I was doing the painting, Jim was fixing Fang (the Volvo that broke down last time we were here). It turned put not to be the petrol pump itself, but either a faulty pipe or faulty connection. After he took it out and put it back again, it was fine. We are now starting to think about the logistics of the forthcoming trip(s) and it seemed to be a good idea to take Fang up to the mooring at Kings Bromley, where the plan is to keep it anyway (certainly for me alone it will be cheaper to come up and down by train). So we set off in the lashing rain to do that, a convoy of 240 estates.

By the time that was done it was quarter to eight and time for supper - another 12 hour day done and less than one might expect to show for it. How time flies when you're doing real work!