Here in Abelike, despite being anchored in nearly 20m, the water has been very warm for swimming off the boat, probably because the prevailing NW wind and resultant swell is absent. It’s very peaceful, even on Friday night when 2 flotillas were in (Sunsail in the W cove and Nielson at the southern head of the middle cove.) The weather may have dampened their parties somewhat. . .
At about 3am on Friday we woke to the sound of rain on the deck above and immedately got up to lower the hatches. As we did so, the rain got heavier and became a downpour – we closed all the hatches (6) fully and went round closing all the portholes (12). We already knew that a couple of portholes leak slightly and that several are so stiff that the locking handles won’t push down fully. And that there’s a drip onto the Chart Table that we still haven’t traced.
What’s now clear is that ALL the portholes need attention. This is a bit disappointing, but not really surprising on an older boat. Tracing and stopping leaks is part of living aboard, but we hadn’t quite expected them all to need doing at once. We know that MnM looked after her really well and suspect that some of the issues we’re finding, like this, are the backlog from 2 years ago when Mike had some health issues.
Among the spares onboard are some replacement ‘rubber’ (neoprene?) seals for the ports and we have sikaflex to seal around the outside. We found tupperware containers, mopped up floors and lockers, moved all the damp books off that shelf . . . you get the picture. (It didn’t occur to me to take one at that time of the night!)
We go back to bed at about 4.45 with everything still battened down, to a steady downpour, crashes of thunder, flashes of lightening and the sense that the storm’s closing in on us.
When we wake at 10, all is dry, calm and sunny. We discover a leak above the fridge has made its way in and flooded the pot holding the lime for my G&Ts. We have more limes, a bigger concern is that the seal on top of the fridge needed replacing: if it’s letting water in, it’s also letting cold air out 😲 Not helpful to our battery problem. Replacing the seal was already on the list, it’s now moved up! Ditto porthole maintenance. We must have LouLouDitsi water-tight before we leave her on the hard for the wet Ionian winter.
After lunch and a siesta, black clouds appear over the mainland and Paleros to the N, Thunder and lightening to the SE. At 1700 hrs the front passes through, very strong gusts flattening the sea. We put in the side triangle panels on the sprayhood to try to keep the cockpit dry so we can sit out – it’s still 24°C. The barometer’s dropped to 1006. (That may not sound low, but remember that barometric pressure is all relative!)
At the moment, with the fridge turned down to a low setting because of the batteries, I’m being very careful about not keeping food too long. We use meat or chicken on the day we buy it or the day after and are then happy to eat vegetarian, which we often do anyway. Even veg don’t last as well in the (turned down) fridge in this climate. Before leaving Nidri, I’d bought chicken thighs for a casserole, so I needed to cook them. But cooking below would be hot.
So, we set the Cobb up on the coaming at the aft end of the cockpit, just under the bimini so it’s protected from the rain. It’s not a flat surface, so we have to level it with bits of cardboard. This works well, although we need to refine where to put utensils, ingredients etc. The Cobb works like a dream -using the deep ‘Frying Dish’ – it’s really easy to adjust the heat as needed and after just an hour the end result is delicious. Chicken, onions, garlic, carrots, potatoes, red pepper, oregano, white wine and a stock cube. And enough left for the tomorrow. Perfect.
On Saturday, we again get up late at about 10. It’s dry and sunny, but very hot and very sticky. That and the forecast suggest there’s more to come. We spend the day catching up on admin (emails, blog, banking) and researching our planned changes and maintenance.
At 4am on Sunday the rain starts again. We’d closed all the portholes before going to bed, so it was just a matter of shutting the hatches and checking on the drip trays. When we finally get up at 10am we find that the drip tray on the fridge has overflowed – we need either less rain or a bigger tray and there’s only one of those we have any control over!
Another hot sunny day. With the white tent up over the bimini and sprayhood, the cockpit is cooler and pleasant, well suited to more admin and research. By 7pm the wind has dropped, so we have a swim and deck shower. Then we lift the dinghy and outboard in and, having battened down just in case, motor over to one of the 2 small tavernas hidden at the end of the bay. You tie up at the pontoon of the one you’re going to eat at. A good meal at Mina’s (Briam, lamb chops, tzatziki) and the owner points to the stars and says it won’t rain tonight. By the time they bring watermelon on the house, she’s seen the lights on the mainland start to disappear and has changed her mind!
We hardly need the head torch (our all round white light, obligatory at night for any small vessel, including dinghies) as every few seconds the whole bay is lit up by the lightning to the North.
Thunderbolts & lightning,
Very very frightening me
[Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen]
We feel quite exposed and vulnerable in our little dinghy, in a way that rarely happens in a house. We like it, it feels very real being so close to the elements.
It feels safer once we’re back home on LouLouDitsi, knowing that the mast is a higher target, although hoping the lightning conductor circuit is all there as it should be! We sit up for a bit watching the show and go to bed to the sound of gentle raindrops on the deck above.