Things Ain’t What They Used to Be.

After weeks of going barking mad- also known as trying (and failing) to rest and enjoy the solitude and scenery- I’ve decided I just can’t take it anymore. It must be about time to get going properly again.
After a couple of unbelievably frustrating attempts at working inside the vessel, (never mind cat swinging, things were either too cramped with my tools, materials and domestics all jumbled into one space post launch, or else everything became extremely dusty immediately upon switching on any kind of large woodworking power tool whatsoever.) I came to realise that I had to regain some of the things I’m missing about our old home at Saxon Wharf, starting with having the space to work efficiently. My idea is to employ a kind of best-of-both-worlds approach if you like, blending the lovely views and idyllic peace of Littlehampton’s west bank with the frenetic pace, noise and creative stay up all night chaos of our old shipyard/workshop. I know, it’s a potentially odd mixture, but Wendy is a strange and unusual vessel, and one of her owners is definitely going to become a lot odder if he doesn’t make some real progress soon.

With this decided, but with no-one around to lend me a hand, I woke up on Saturday morning to discover it was bloody raining. This was not a good omen for my planned frustration busting exercise, so I just sort of stood there damply staring at the rain and feeling broken by circumstance again. Not good.
Two cups of decent coffee, one enormous poo, and a reluctantly devised back up ‘work inside after all’ plan later- it became apparent that either my prayers or my offering (in a bucket, naturally) had appeased the weather gods for it had miraculously ceased to precipitate! Or maybe it just stopped raining. Whatever. What happened next was this….



Yas. I grabbed the nearest vaguely sharp handsaw and three boxes of 80mm screws, and built the bastard son of our dearly departed Wendy house, this time smaller, and on deck. And I only made a tiny dent in the wood we’ve got stored on board.
That’s better, It’s going to be the new fit out workshop once its clad and covered, somewhere the big tools can live and that the big work can be done in- which will free up some important living space inside some of the vessel. It’s ugly, but I’m done with admiring the look of Wendy’s exterior and have a real need to crack on with sorting things out inside. Anyway- I’m trying my best to persuade myself that there’s some sort of Chinese Junk aesthetic at play here? Ok then, just junk. I don’t care- it’s not permanent, but I’m building it with the intention of it lasting as long as it needs to, I do NOT want to be tripping over stuff whilst I try to find things in six months time.

Then I fed the swans. I’m aware that my own experience of the boating life has not been exactly elysian thus far, but in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary gained over the last few years I’m willing to give it a go. And the sunsets are nice too, with all the gulls wheeling around and local fishermen phutting up and down the river while the neighbourhood hooligans throw bicycles off the wharf on the other side. Yep-it’s the Great British Seaside alright.
Next weekend… it’d be nice to have some company for spring tides, light progress, and with a bit of luck weather wise a barbeque of some description. Oh, and remember to behave and feed the swans like a good boat owner.