After a lazy day of Islay beauty accompanied by a whiskey tour at the Lagavulin Distillary we discovered the island cyber cafe and quickly posted the last blog.
Slightly sozzled from our free dram we made our way back to the boat to sober up for passage planning and our intended departure at about 10pm for Tobermory.The quote of the day 'who names a town after a bloody womble?' shall remain unatributed, but I'm sure those in the know could guess pretty quickly the reliable cynic who offered it up!!
Using the time to good advantage Paul (who I might add had not touched a drop of the filthy stuff!) did some navigation tuition and then set about trying to drain an air bubble from the engine. Needing some diesel after the shops had shut meant Jane had to yet again put on the high heels and wander the pontoons in search of a favour! The things a girl has to do!
Successfully returning with her prize Paul sorted the problem out and Frangi fired up like a dream. Having eaten and sorted our night shifts the majority of the crew retired for some shut eye whilst David, Clive and Paul set up and let Frangi loose for a long night ahead. All seemed well until about half an hour into the journey when the engine stopped.
Unsuccessful attempts to restart the engine were followed by everyone rising from their bunks to discover a cool as a cucumber Paul surrounded by 6 anxious faces. Skillfully using the light wind Paul made the genius decision to sail back to the tight and tricky marina at Port Ellen and to come alongside unaided by any motor power at all!
Having briefed all on board we waited with baited breath as Frangi slowly slipped quietly and perfectly into where she had been but an hour before. The bemused neighbours responded with a mixture of inane comments 'why did ye no have the engine on Pal?!!' and an impromptu applause from the totally inebriated Swiss boat 3 fingers along.
With the adrenaline surging through our veins there was really only one thing to do to calm us down - drink as many cans of beer as we could whilst everyone recounted their close shave stories.
Clive it has to be said won hands down by revealing that he is in fact an ex
competitive sky diver who has completed over 1400 jumps with a few tales to
tell along the way. Needless to say he confirmed his status as a true
adrenaline junkie when he disclosed that he eventually gave up because he got
bored with waiting around to do the jumps!!
Suitably inebriated we all bedded down for a few hours kip to await the judgement of the local boat engineer in the morning. A final note to give tribute to Paul's unflinching cool through the whole engine (or rather lack of engine!) crisis! We are certainly learning from the Jedi school of sailing, although thankfully Paul makes a much more attractive Yoda!
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