A Life Afloat (Maybe)

Chapter 2

Here we go again, his normal early morning cry as he rolled out of his bed. First things first, a cup of tea. Pete could not make any sort of start in the morning, without his essential cup of tea, two or three was more like it. Then he could get down to stripping his bed, putting all the seating back into place, before he could set up the table. Essential, so that he could have breakfast, even if it was only a couple of slices of toast. He needed something in his stomach before, he washed and shaved, also, before he could look the world in the eye.

After his meeting with Alec, the day before, rather than listen to the radio or read a book. Pete had spent the day and evening thinking about, Alec, his yacht, with quite a long time spent thinking about that yacht. Even while he was supposed to be sleeping, it had taken time for his mind to settle, for him to drift off to sleep. Even then, he had thoughts of sailing a yacht down the river, out onto the sea and beyond, but it was only a dream. Now in broad very dull daylight, he was fully awake, at least he thought he was. With his mind still pondering sailing, even though he knew so little about it, the whole idea was very tempting. Was it just a foolish dream or could he in some way turn it into a reality? Could this be the change he was looking for? Having had a breakfast of just plain toast and butter, with a couple of cups of tea. Pete really started his day by washing and shaving, he didn't fancy a cold shower this morning. Not that he looked any better for it, it was just that he felt better in himself. As if he had accomplished at least one thing in his day, he was ready to face anything, he laughingly said to himself.

Following his earlier thoughts about 'that yacht', he could not get it out of his mind. So, being ready for anything, he once more jumped on to his bike. This time, not heading for the river, but the local library. Where he could do some much-needed research, on yachts and boating in general. The library was, it seemed, a great place for information on almost any subject. It seemed though, that very little was on the actual process of sailing a yacht. There were books galore, on this type of yacht, that type of yacht, from little ten-foot dinghies to seventy-foot ocean-going monsters. There were plenty of photographs, every part one could think of. Many that Pete had never even thought or heard of. Words or objects or even boating 'things' detailed in most of the books. Even the reference books, seemed to Pete, to be mostly gobbledegook, written for seasoned sailors not for idiots and novices like him. Putting the books back on the shelves, he decided it may be easier if he went to a simple newsagent, browsed the racks of magazines to see if there were anything he could easily understand. So far, all he seemed to have learned, was that Alec's yacht appeared to be what was called a sloop. In that it had one mast, with one sail, a jib sail he thought, at the front of the mast and a larger sail which he thought was called the head sail, at the back of the mast. He believed that aft was the right word, the pointy bit at the front was the prow or bow. The bit at the back, where you sat and steered, was the cockpit. The flat part at the very back was the stern, that was his total knowledge of yachts and sailing. Pathetic. Having

decided that the books and magazines, were still too advanced for him, he reluctantly decided to go home, to think a little more about yachts.

As he cycled back to his 'van, he mused about what he had learned so far. About this new world, that he may or may not, be entering. What did he really know about the boating world, truthfully, apart from a few words? Absolutely nothing, so why was he getting so excited about a world he knew nothing about. That one word was haunting him and his imagination, change, that was what it was all about. Pete knew, without a doubt, that he needed to change his life, for the better. A change was needed, the question was how to secure that change. Also, what was the change going to be!

Back home in the 'van, home, that was a laugh for a start, Pete thought. Really, all it was, was an oblong box in a field. Where he ate and slept, some home! Mind you, he did have his 'van connected to mains electricity. The field, where he was staying, was part of an old tourist caravan park. Which meant that even in winter, he could keep warm, use his laptop, his acknowledgement to the fact, that he was living in the twenty-first century. After making himself his essential 'cup of tea', he dragged out his laptop, fired it up, well, plugged it into the mains electric and switched it on. Eventually, the screen lit up, (it was like him, showing its years, a bit on the slow side). He connected it up to his mobile Wi-Fi server, started to browse the internet, looking for information on yachts and boating. Finally, finding a site that was aimed at people like him, a complete novice and learner. As a result, spent quite a long time going through the web pages. Making notes on things like sails, their parts, luffing and reefing, leeward and windward, port and starboard, tacking and running. That was until his mind thought it was going to burn up, with all those words and terms fizzing around his mind. Mind bending, to me at least, I can ask some sensible questions of Alec he thought, the next time I see him.

Sadly, Pete's next meeting with Alec did not occur straight away. Every time Pete cycled to the small boatyard, there was no sign of Alec, even though his yacht was still standing on its trestles. On his fourth visit, although Alec was not to be seen, another man was working on a small dingy. Noticing Pete looking around, he asked if he was looking for Alec. Very much so, answered Pete, Alec was at home with his wife who was not very well the workmen told him. If you want to see him, he said, turn right at the end of the yard, you will find his home about half a mile down the lane, it's painted blue and called 'Dalston Cottage'. Thanking him for his help, Pete made his way to Alec's home, sure enough, Pete found a pretty blue cottage, complete with thatched roof.

Unsure whether he would be welcomed, Pete hesitated but he had already been noticed. Alec opened the front door with a welcoming smile, inviting Pete into his home, he introduced Pete to his ailing wife Rose, who indeed, sat in a wheelchair looking somewhat frail. With a weak smile, she asked Pete if he were her old school friend, Alec's old sparring partner, sadly no, answered Pete, I'm a new friend. We met last week, he told her, when I saw Alec working on his boat down in the boatyard. 'Loves that boat more than me' she muttered, I'll be glad when he gets rid of it, far more trouble than it's worth she continued, turned her wheelchair away from both men. Looking out of the window, where she could see a couple of ponies in the field behind the cottage, muttering to herself that she would far rather be out riding than sailing. Alec noticed the change in his wife, gestured to Pete, inviting him to join him in the room next door. Which just happened to be a rather cosy kitchen, tea and a chat said Alec, yes please, was Pete's answer, I'll never refuse a cuppa, that's what keeps me going. Sit down then, Alec suggested, I'll make a brew, take one into Rose with some biscuits, then we can chat to our heart's content.