Becky, Seb, and Blowing the Bloody Doors off.

I was the luckiest man on planet earth, because on Friday night B travelled with me to Wendy Ann 2, and stayed for the entire weekend. We had ourselves an absolute blast.
The big task was all about taking the sliding bridge doors off and rehanging them properly. We needed to change them from their broken and bent bottom rollers (original including the mangled bits and hurriedly rehung before the launch) to the fancy the-pants-off top hung system into which we invested a sizeable amount of cash in the parts for some months ago. While we were at it we introduced some much needed and very effective draught proofing to the gap between the doors and the wheelhouse itself, and for good measure ripped and planed up a bunch of teak for the next phase of the wheelhouse windows project…
But I have no real need to elaborate further about all this (unless you really desperately need to read the boring then-we-did-this-next stuff all the time), except to say we got it done with grace, even if we did end up indulging in racing woodwork and working well into the night on Saturday. No- I want to talk about me and my missus.

I am so SO pleased that Becks managed to find the time to come for the first time in a couple of months, and I cannot WAIT for her to do so again. It’s difficult for her to get the time as she’s recently struck out on her own business wise and is now more married than ever to the world of horses and horse welfare- early indications show that it seems to be going well though, which in any recession has got to be good. And it’s been weirdly difficult for me holding on to a boat shaped dream for both of us in the meantime over the months. Because although I’m completely obsessed with the tug, at the end of the beans it’s all still about us and our love for each other; the big fat romance that, after one glass of red too many kicked off the potentially fatal idea of ‘lets do up an old boat and live on it’ five (?) years ago. Good God. It’s been only a few years, yet a few tons of steel and teak has changed our worldview beyond recognition. It’s done a few cool things for the skills I have too.

Occasionally, owning a huge dream like this is a burden. It’s bigger than me, bigger than both of us- so the need to constantly maintain one’s own belief that we’ll get there eventually isn’t always easily done. Staying strong as a person, and therefore as half a couple is sometimes tough when the task of putting together a new life seems to be going in different directions, or all just going to ratshit, and the dream home still has no running water, heating, or floors.
It’s still a hell of a test of a relationship, this pursuit of a mad dream. And I particularly feel for Becky, because when she’s not been able to visit the boat because of the career chase it’s like she has all the slog and none of the reward. This weekend was a refreshing change. And after it I’m relieved to know for certain that yes, Becky still definitely wants to live on a boat.

Sometimes it’s best to stick a finger up at adversity, to celebrate even when the overdraft is maxed and it’s beans for supper yet again… We’ve a duty to remind ourselves we’ve got something great as a result of all the sacrifice. “Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your own wheelhouse” (thanks Baz Luhrmann) worked well for us on Saturday night.

In case you’re wondering, this is what the title photograph of this blog entry obliquely refers to; My old work bike, now relegated to occasional provisioning runs over the bridge to town represents my past, Becky’s red wellies that cost her a mere tenner are her present, and the background is of course our future. And we’re more determined than ever to have one living full time together on board. Come hell or high water.