Kerry left you as we arrived in Preveza Marina, where we planned to work through our list of boat preparation jobs, all be it at a pace that is inversely proportional to temperature. When we were back in Groomsport, over the Irish summer(!), I never got the feeling that I just needed a couple of hours lying on the sofa ‘vegetating’, it would just make me feel guilty that I was wasting time that I could never get back again. But here it is easy to do and there is no feeling of guilt. It is a necessity for survival, otherwise the body would simply overheat and probably entirely evaporate, so I would literally cease to be.
So after a little rest (as just explained), I got stuck into the ‘boat job’ of changing over the fuel filter to an entirely new system. A system that had been brought in my big hold bag and had caused some interest at airport security when it went through X-ray and showed up as some metal pipework and four cylindrical objects. I told the security man it was fuel filters, with my least guilty facial expression. He inquired if there was fuel in them. A silly question I thought, but I remained poker faced and answered no. He seemed happy with that. Phew!
To go back to April this year, we had some fuel issues, where our engine tended to splutter and nearly conk out, coming into busy anchorages, like Lakka Bay. At that time I texted our friend and whizz engine mechanic, Micheal, for advice. Long story short, we decided not to fly him over, all expenses paid (which was his preference) but wait until we got back to NI and discuss the matter over a coffee (my preference). So Micheal supplied the bits, which I now pondered over fitting to the engine, whilst trying not to break it permanently.
I simply had to remove the old fuel filter, valve and primer pump and fit the new ones. Sounds easy, but remember this is a ‘boat job’, which differs considerably from a basic ‘job’. I find that engine jobs inevitably become messy, so not long into the job, me and everything around me was covered in a slippy layer of oil and diesel, mixed with sweat. I realised that I needed to push an 8mm fuel hose onto 10mm ‘tails’. I had checked with Micheal that this would be possible and he had casually said that 8mm hose pushes onto a 10mm tail.
Well, Micheal has big mechanic hands and knows all the tricks, but I don’t and my hands were sweaty and slippery. I eventually got the hose on, but was not happy with it, with images in my head of fuel lines popping off in the middle of a gale, resulting in us being blow onto rocks. That would not do, so the next day I ventured to the local chandlers, bought 8mm tails and did the job again, plus getting all the air out of the system so the engine would start, a technique that I have yet to fully master. Thanks Michael, if you are reading this — all working nicely now! Apologies if your hands are not as big as I described.
All good and engine working again, we were all set for our first big passage to Abelaki Bay. So on Tuesday we went for our ‘last meal’ (why does it always feel like that!) at Celeste Taverna at Preveza, overlooking Barberry in the marina. While we ordered our food (Meat Variety for two, of course) we noticed strange clouds forming over Barberry and before long forked streaks of lightning and claps of thunder. The heavens opened and it rained like… like… like the time we were in Corfu with Patrick and Chloe and rivers formed where there once were roads.
I had left our beautiful, homemade Bimini up, and now watched from afar as it filled with rain and swelled to become a very deep and heavy water reservoir. I cursed (inwardly) my stupidity at leaving it up, as it was designed for sun, not rain. I envisioned it collapsed and torn, so did not really enjoy my meat variety as much as I should and rushed Kerry back to the boat without even dessert! Of course when we got back everything was fine and the Bimini was happily sagging under the weight of water, but perfectly okay.
After a fitful night’s sleep the alarm went off at 0545 and we hurriedly swivelled our way out of bed (there is a technique to this) and set off in the dark for the 0800 opening of the Lefkas canal bridge. We made it with time to spare and were the only boat travelling into the Inland Sea at that time of day, whilst an armada of catamarans, sailing boats and gin palaces travelled in the opposite direction. We waved to them all!
We arrived in Abelake Bay (our favourite place from our early summer trip), anchored in the bay and jumped in for a swim. This what we came here for and it felt good! Other than the water being almost too hot. We had lunch, another swim, then rested (necessity for this described previously), then prepared ourselves for dinner and Minas Taverna, a delightful places, set in a cool shady valley at the end of the bay. In the chaos of getting everything ready for the dingy there was a small, almost insignificant plop, and Kerry announced that something may have fallen into the water from her hand.
After a few seconds of thought it dawned on me that the ‘something’ was probably the magnetic starter key (kill-cord) that I had forgotten to tie to my shorts. Aarghhh!!! Without the key the outboard is useless and we would have to do an awful lot of rowing to get anywhere. In desperation we tried to think of a solution to a key sunk to 7 metres below us. Could we build a make-shift one. Kerry googled it and no. A new one would be £20, but getting one to us would be a challenge, and not quick. We can’t dive to 7 metres. Kerry is too buoyant (so I would need to tie concrete blocks to her) and I can’t hold my breath for that long, plus my ears would probably implode.
Nevertheless, I heroically donned my snorkel, mask and trunks and jumped into the water. We had a small magnetic torch, which was designed to retrieve things from the bilge. I tied this to a length of line and dropped it in the water. After multiple dives I spotted what might have been the key and positioned the, now very wet, torch over it. After much fiddling the torch stuck to the key (visibility was very poor at 7 metres) and I slowly brought it up. We were saved! The beer and meal tasted better that evening after Tori (our Torqeedo electric outboard) got us safely to shore in Dingleberry (our dinghy).
Kerry will tell you more about our exploits at Abelaki bay and our amazing experiences at Cephalonia in the next instalment. I bet you can’t wait!