Perhaps we could have left today, but that would have entailed bolting everything back together in a hurry, or going out in miserable weather, or worse still, it would have entailed missing lunch tomorrow.
Bill did appear with the tools to connect the gizwitch in the gear selection setup, but almost as suddenly as he appeared wandered off carrying a blue metal part and shaking his head and muttering something.
While he was off beating something into submission with a shifting spanner, I set about trying to find the source of the air entering the water pump with equal lack of success. We may have both been on the verge of actual swearing for a time, particularly after Mr Perkins made it quite clear that his is very happy indeed to be still spitting as much smoke as he was before we gave him his new injectors, but in the end he seemed to sulk into submission, and after a good deal of sputtering and banging on his part as well as perhaps some actual cursing in an old engine kind of way, he began to turn the actual propellor.
With very little confidence that he will remain his happy self for the duration of our summer, he was none the less pronounced "ready to go".
Meanwhile in an apparent attempt to avoid witnessing any fracas involving, two grown men and an old engine the other of us had taken the kind offer of a ride to a place called "Ikea" and was apparently completely occupied for the day, deep in women's business and oblivious to the goings on back at the ranch.
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