We have a day and a half to make LouLouDitsi ready for her summer hibernation and to pack for our 4 weeks away.
We hose her down, put the cover over the dinghy on the foredeck to protect against UV, and empty the fridge. We get out the ‘winter’ mooring lines. These have chain which goes round the pontoon cleats which won’t chafe unlike rope. They also have large stainless steel springs in them to absorb movement from gusts and currents. Oh dear 😟 We should have inspected them earlier. One chain link is puffed up and soft with corrosion and we can’t trust it. The other line is parting company with its eye splice.
Our desperation shows at the chandlery and they take the lines from us with reassuring noises. We collect them later that day, chain replaced and new whipping holding the eye splice firm, and are charged what seems to us a tiny amount. We faff about for ages adjusting the lines so that the winter lines take the strain and the ordinary mooring lines are there as backups.
Our packing is a mad rush. We’ve left a few summer clothes in UK, but perhaps not enough for this year’s heatwave. And we’re going to the Dordogne for a week to see our shipmates Mike and Debbie who moved there in April. We try to make lists of things we need to bring out to Greece when we return.
We’ve arranged for Colin of Pinnacle Yachts to keep an eye on LouLouDitsi for us while we’re away. Colin is the broker through whom we bought her just over a year ago. As well as general checks, he’s going to keep an eye on the stern gland leak for us. (It’s clear now that it only leaks underway, so staying put shouldn’t present a problem, but we’re both anxious enough about leaving her anyway!)
Friday morning and we’re off to the airport. Walking up the pontoon away from LouLouDitsi is really hard. We keep glancing back: what have we forgotten? Colin will check, we tell ourselves. He’ll make sure she’s alright.
Stay Safe LouLouDitsi.


