A Life Afloat (Maybe)

Chapter 1

Yeah! if only....

That thought ran through his mind a lot these days. It was a thought that kept his mind slightly more occupied, than just watching the clouds go by. Seeing that the skies had cleared a little and that the wind had eased, he decided that it was time to make a move. Get on his old bike and do something, get the blood circulating. Just do something! rather than just sit around wasting more of what was left of his life......
Soon he found himself pedalling along on the back roads. Nodding a 'hello' here and there, to a few of the ramblers and country walkers he passed. Keeping well away from the traffic that these days, seemed to 'take no prisoners'. Blasting past pedestrians and cyclists alike, showing no concern whatsoever for their safety. It was, in what seemed no time at all that he found himself cycling down by the the river. Where a few brave souls were sailing small dinghy's, cabin cruisers and motorboats up and down the river. All of them, having a great time as far as he could see. When he came up to the small boatyard, where anyone could hire a small 'open to the weather motorboat', for a few pounds, he thought about it, and said to himself 'Nah! Too chilly'. Pedalling further along, he came upon a man dressed in what looked like an old boiler suit, a senior citizen maybe, who was working on an oldish looking yacht, which was raised up and sitting on well worn timber trestles. Pete leant his bike against a rickety fence, to take a closer look. As he walked round the boat he realised, that it was not as small as he first thought. In fact, it was longer than his old caravan, by maybe three or four feet and at its middle, somewhat wider.

Seeing Pete's interest in the boat. The man called out, in what seemed to be a joking fashion; 'want to buy the old girl?'. 'It's tempting' Pete replied, not knowing what he was talking about. 'Use the ladder, come up and join me'. 'We can have a cuppa and a bit of a chat', he continued. 'Here, down below in the galley'. 'It's out of the breeze and a bit more comfortable". Clambering up the rickety ladder, hoping would not fall off, Pete joined his new 'friend' and noticed, that although looking old, the chrome and brass fittings gleamed, wooden surfaces glistened. Very deceptive, from down on the ground, he thought. His new 'friend' must be very proud of his boat, Pete thought. With his mind drifting, he thought; "you could live on this all year round".

My name's Peter! He said, introducing himself but most people just call me Pete. His new friend introduced himself as 'Alec', saying that being retired, to him, was almost as busy as working full-time. Looking after his wife, their house and this, 'his old lady of the sea'. 'We've had many a great day'. 'Sailing this old lady up and down the coast', he said. 'Now it is time to pass her on, for someone else to enjoy'. 'There was no fun in it any more', he told Pete 'not since his wife had become so poorly'. Commiserating with him, Pete asked what the problem was, 'Simple' said Alec, 'Dementia! Came out of the blue', 'One day she was fine, the next day her mind and memories had faded, even the simplest of memories'. 'Heart-breaking', said Pete, not knowing what else to say, noticing the pain it brought to Alec eyes, not wishing to make it worse for him.

Dementia showed no mercy to those it afflicted Alec told him. Amazing, thought Pete, not so long ago this would have been a taboo subject. Not now! it was openly discussed between peers, pundits, experts and know-it-alls. Although this was not the first person that he had come across, that had their partner fall prey to such an illness. It was, the first time he had seen it have such a debilitating effect on someone.

Trying to change, what seemed far too personal a subject for a first meeting. Pete asked Alec to tell him a little more about his yacht. Which, much to Pete's surprise and pleasure, Alec did, with great pride and simplicity. As if he already knew of Pete's total lack of knowledge, of any sort of boat. 'Built just after the second world war down in Brixham' Alec told him, 'single masted with foresail and mainsail, with a 'Genoa' (whatever that was thought Pete) if needed'. 'A complete set of spare sails are kept in the lockers on deck'. 'It has a small, fully equipped galley, gas fired'. 'Capable of cooking full meals, if you knew, like my Rose, what one was doing'. He continued with, 'Racks (beds), he explained, a head (fully working toilet with washing facilities)'. 'That's more than I need to know', Pete told him, with a smile. 'The water system', Alec persisted, 'was fitted with a 12-volt DC pump'. 'Opposite the galley, was the dining area'. 'This area included a small communication centre, which consisted of a marine radio, GPS, chart table and other bits and pieces. 'The yacht', he told Pete, 'was twenty-four feet and a bit, at the water line'. 'Twenty-seven feet and a bit overall', 'A beam of nine feet six inches' (that's how wide it was Alec had explained) 'and drew three feet nine inches. 'All the boats electrics were 12-volt DC', 'That's the lighting, radios, that sort of thing, all working off a bank of batteries'. 'These were charged' he said, 'by the yachts three-cylinder diesel engine', 'which', he continued, 'one used in the harbour, on the river and if you were caught in windless conditions'. 'You could always move her around, as the engine propelled the boat, through a drive shaft'. 'Which had a three-bladed propeller' was his final word on his yacht.

Pete laughed, saying that all this new information, would keep his little grey cells, working longer than needed. Pete's introduction to small yachts by Alec had been interesting, thought-provoking. he asked if it would be all right if he came back in a few days. Not only for a chat, which he had thoroughly enjoyed, he told Alec, but also, for further information or advice on the world of sailing. Any time Alec said with a bright smile.

After thanking Alec profusely, for his time and generosity. Pete took leave of his new friend. Thankfully, landing on his feet, back in one piece on Terra Firma. He climbed back onto his bike, waved goodbye, and pedalled away. With his mind turning over the bucketful of information, that Alec had given to him, about yacht sailing and boating in general. He gradually made his way towards the estuary, where the river joined the English Channel. Here, he paused, paying more attention to the boats that were out on the river, more especially to the yachts. To him, it seemed that every action on them, was being kept to a minimum. It looked as if, on all the yachts, movement was, easy, simple, controlled, no wasted energy. On the ones that he could see, even though several people were on board, one person was doing all the work. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to sail a yacht on his own. Laughingly, he said to himself, just like those 'round the world' sailors he had seen, in those television documentaries. All of this was food for thought, he said to himself, it would be a tremendous change, and challenge. Especially, as he would be trying to learn in a short time, something, that others had taken years to master. He was, however, warming to the idea. After spending a fair amount of time just sitting there, watching the boats go by, he decided to make his way back to his current home. That miserable, clapped out caravan to have his evening meal. Before settling down for the evening, to listen to the radio or read a novel.