In the water Driftwood is alive and spirited, but on the hard she is awkward and tall. That lively gentle motion of a living boat is replaced by a temporary rigor-mortis. I feel I need to get the work done a quickly as possible and get her back into the water without any unnecessary delay.
None of what I’m getting done is going to improve her looks. This is not aesthetic maintenance. Back in the water all the work will be hidden from view. But I’ll know it was done and that’s what matters. I need to add expensive anodes beneath the waterline, like a pretty lady donning diamond earrings that will never be seen beneath her long hair. But still she feels better knowing that she is wearing them.
I’d like to take credit for doing all the work but that would be unfair of me. Gavin did the bulk of it, cutting me some slack on account of my tummy still being soar after my Opp. However I can still put on my overalls and look like I’m working. I do the same whenever I’m on a golf course. I have the baseball cap with Ping wrote on it, I have the golf shoes and the jumper with ridiculous gold diamonds on it. I even have the glove that I dangle from my arse pocket. But my cover gets blown as soon as I have to take my first shot. That is the moment when all around me discover that I’m a golfing fake. So now I have given up trying to play golf and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I simply have no hand eye coordination. I’ll stick to boats instead.
So after a few short days I have the bow-thruster fixed (I did that bit myself!) And all six new anodes are either bolted on or welded on and the hull has been antifouled. Time to lift Driftwood off the slab and see will the water revive her.
When the straps are removed and you first step on-board, she pulsates again. That gentle motion confirming that she has woken from her coma. I can fire up the engines and she purrs her way back to her finger jetty. A job well done.