There was at least 35 knots of wind and the few other boats out and about obviously had the same plan – to get back safely asap. We discussed down to the smallest detail exactly how we would park the boat without hitting any other boats (or our own) against the pontoon.
Today goes down in history as my most embarrassing moment. It’s a moment all sailors dread. A moment that happens to most of us but one that shouldn’t happen in front of fellow sailors. It should only happen in private when no one is watching.
After Jon did the rounds in the dinghy we went off to practice some man overboard under sail, before returning to Bodrum marina. We tried dropping the pasarelle to lay the warps on in order to assist the marina boys but all I managed to achieve whilst jack knifing Esper in reverse was to gently nudge the guardrail of the boat next door. Oooops! ‘Jon!!!!!’
After a great night’s sleep Jon’s off in the dinghy, rowing to each boat in the flotilla giving them the low-down on what to do and what to expect for today’s sail. It was interesting watching Jon at work and it quickly made me realise I never want to be running flotilla holidays!
As we approached the Essex coast we ran out of fuel. Well, we didn’t run out of fuel, the second tank wasn’t feeding fuel to the engine for some reason. With this in mind the skipper wasn’t happy sailing all the way back to Burnham with no diesel so we made a detour up the Orwell with the aim of pulling in to Levington to refuel. It was closer and the wind was in our favour. Or so we thought. Are you ready for this?
After leaving our yachthaven in Aalsmeer, not forgetting to give the middle finger to the hairy, cigar-chomping Dutch twat who told the skipper off for borrowing a hose (that wasn’t even his), we headed towards Amsterdam. Of course this involved negotiating a number of bridges which meant either approaching very slowly and hovering backwards and forwards until the bridge opened, or, more sensibly, tying up to the posts provided on the side of the canal.