It’s going to be colder tonight.- Monday 30th October Lagarde

Well it’s not as if we weren’t warned.  Perhaps a person with more experience of the cold would not have left his wet mop-cloths out where they would get stuck to the deck, perhaps he would have tensioned the lines on the covers properly before they became frozen solid.   That might have saved an hour or two in the morning waiting for it all to thaw, but the novelty of it all made up for the delay.

The old hands of course walked by and nodded, offering reassurance along the lines of “and it’s going to be really cold tomorrow”.   We of course, had thought that one through and had already agreed that we would be spending our last night in Lagarde at Chez Maggie with proper underfloor heating, perhaps sleeping without the need for a beanie either. 

What we hadn’t considered was that as we finally finished all our little jobs and tied the cover down as is the way with these sorts of jobs, it would be in last of the evening’s light.  As is also the way with these things it seems to have moved a little out of alignment and will need to be untied and adjusted one more time to make it properly snug.   Thus the day came to a close, not filled with happy thoughts of a job well done and the road trip that lies ahead, but darker ones involving leaving later than planned after working outside in the morning in negative temperatures with icy ropes and slippery decks and pliers pinching freezing glove-less hands. 

Half a Moon is Better Than No Moon - Sunday 29th October Lagarde

The end of the day came earlier than usual today, as it does when one is trying to get ten things done in the time that it takes to do eight, and it wasn’t entirely because today was the day that daylight saving ended.  We had spent all of it inside our little boat-cave hiding from the rain except for the odd excursion into what felt like super-chill from time to time to avail ourselves of Maggie’s clothes dryer. 

The rain stopped exactly as scheduled, bringing a clearing sky to  the coming of the night and we could poke our heads out to enjoy the dying vestiges of the day without getting wet.  Surprisingly our view had changed.  Beautiful though it was in the last of the light, we couldn't help but notice that the storms had stripped the trees of the last vestiges of their foliage as if to ready them for the frost that must arrive overnight and in the process dumped every one of them on the boat, working them under the still not finally secured covers. 

Even as the last wisp of cloud disappeared from the sky could feel the bite of the new weather system descending.

No More Staring into Space - Saturday 28th October Lagarde

One would expect that getting ready for one’s eighth winter would be a matter of routine, and to a great extent one would be absolutely correct. 

The covers for instance, are stitched and tucked in all the right places so they fit just so, the tie down ropes spliced to the correct lengths and stowed on clips so they can be re-used year after year, renewed this year exactly to last year’s lengths.   What one can’t take into account is the wind which comes in gusts in increasing efforts to take the tarp away and making the temperature, already a balmy seven feel like something less.  Apart from the odd plier-pinched finger or rope flicked into an already watering eye there’s not too much feeling to be had out there anyway, and the morning passes with an accumulating degree of annoyance as nothing, NOTHING seemed to be settling into place.

With lunch and warmth and full of soup came an epiphany.  In the battle against the wind, the whole thing had settled a dozen centimetres out of alignment.  Perhaps the new ropes are the correct length after all.   Then the wind stopped, no doubt in preparation for tomorrow’s rain, which made taking it all off and starting again the doddle it should have been.  Another job done, apart from the little triangles left to allow light into the green-gloom of inside while we pack.

Staring into Space - Friday 27th October Lagarde

After a few days of gently pacing ourselves, making steady if barely visible progress while saving ourselves a little for the onslaught that will come tomorrow, one of us finally put her foot down and suggested it would be best if the other didn’t look out of the windows this morning.   

Her interests of course were not selfish.  

She just wanted to make sure he had something to do in the afternoon.

Red sky at night - Thursday 26th October Lagarde

We haven’t seen a red sky for quite some time,  possibly because we haven’t seen any sky at all except in intermittent glimpses.  Tonight when sunset came it was mostly purple, perhaps to delight as promised by the children’s rhyme, but perhaps also to send a warning that the Iceman is on his way.

If all goes according to plan, and there’s that word again, it will be raining tomorrow, fine on Saturday, raining a lot on Sunday with temperatures declining each day until they reach somewhere between “quite” and “very” cold on Monday.  By then, provided we can get the covers on in bouts of fine, we won’t be particularly worried as we shall be driving in a hopefully heated car, off into the sunset, even if it isn’t quite as visible as today’s was.

Gardening - Wednesday 25th October Lagarde

Even though there’s activity all around us, it seems to be happening at the same comfortable and quiet half-pace at which we are working.  Even the incessant chirping of the chain saws seems to be mellowed by the blanket of fog that shields everything from view until lunchtime, making an inspection of progress impossible till the afternoon.

The little road beside the port is completely devoid of cars now.  It all looks as thought its ready for the big freeze, with the trees lopped to within an inch of their lives in that way that seems to be a bit reminiscent of the way poodles are trimmed, leaving only great blobs on the knuckles to keep the joints warm, from which new branches will no doubt miraculously appear after winter.  The hedges are trimmed similarly, standing bare-headed like a group of new recruits after their first visit to the military barber. 

The gardening aboard has not been going nearly as well.  Our bromeliad while not quite tall enough to be able to see out of the window, can hear what’s going on and no doubt is contemplating its fate.  As are we.

And so it begins - Tuesday 24th October Lagarde

We’re pacing ourselves, of that there can be no doubt.  We have given ourselves almost a week so there’s no sense in getting everything done on the first afternoon. 

At the end of the day, we couldn't help but notice the arrival of the first layer of what looks like clutter but which is in reality a series of reminders of the ever increasing number of things we mustn’t forget to do, combined with a growing collection of cleaning chemicals.   With Restaurant PK209 peering seductively through our windows it was a bit tempting to take the night off, but after a stocktake we discovered with some concern that even if we eat an extra meal every day until we leave we will not run out of food.

But the exterior is nicely scrubbed, and the mooring lines are clean and if there was no washing to do the rain would stop tomorrow.  Possibly.