The Heads

I once before, a little more than a year ago, wrote a story on this blog about a particularly bad case of gastric flu I managed to pick up from somewhere and quite cleverly - I thought - wove it into a simple recipe involving barbecued bananas with dark, melted chocolate. It was a necessary introduction, I believe, to the grunt of the story and ensuing recipe. I did apologise profusely for any offence caused, it being a food blog and all.

With that in mind, if I may just slip in an additional apology, for I am about to tell you all about our 'heads' on Mariquita. The loo. The dunny. The bogs.

As you may already know, the nautical term for the loo's on boats, the 'heads', comes from the days of large, down-wind sailing ships. The crew were obliged to go all the way forward to the bow sprit (the long pokey-outy stick on the bow of ships and classic boats like ours) to relieve themselves. As this was at the head of the boat, the term for the toilets on a boat stuck and even now they are know as the 'heads'. There were two un-deniable benefits to the loos being there in those times; firstly the ships were mostly down-wind sailing vessels so any smell would drift away from the boat in the following breeze. Handy when you don't have a bottle of Febreeze within reach. Secondly, the natural motion of the water against the hull at the bow of the boat would act as a natural flusher, conveniently washing everything away.

I can't imagine though how depressing your day would have become if you were suffering from a bit of a tummy ache and Mother Nature was throwing a force 8 at you with heavy rain and a massive, rolling sea. That's quite a bidet...

Our crew heads on Mariquita are really quite lovely aesthetically speaking. No, it's not at the bow of the boat or over the open sea as thankfully in this day and age we have the convenience and sophistication of pumps and valves. So although our heads are definitely up forward, they are also behind a nice door, inside. Nice door.

Sea water is still used to flush our Blakes loo though. Flushing the thing after you have 'finished', requires you to pump up and down on the big handle until the bowl has emptied, turn on the tap to let the sea water in and flush with the second little handle. Repeat a few times before you finally turn off the tap. Now this bit is the most important bit to remember. If you forget, the boat will sink. Well, it would take a while but there is always the odd day when a gentle trickling sound is heard from the crew heads and the loo is discovered to be overflowing with, basically, the sea.

So spare a thought, all you house dwelling, simply-push-the-handle folk out there when you next flush. At least you're not committed to your toilet for another 2 to 3 minutes, manually pumping away, with the little added excitement that your responsible for your house not sinking.

I shall leave you with that thought and with some photos of our more historic guest heads (the posh loos), modelled on toilets that were actually used back then in 1911. Yes, that is a lot of polishing to be done but they are beautiful. As heads go.

I couldn't bring myself to follow this one with a recipe I'm afraid. I think it wise just to leave it there.



Cheers!

Moored up by Tower Bridge

Tower Bridge. Nice.

Mariquita has moored up by Tower Bridge. We've arrived! Tea has been served, Digestive biscuits scattered around the deck and we're all off to bed now. How terribly British (apart from the two Italians, two Americans and the Ozzy).

Cheers!

A Bit of Calm After Lots of Storm

The sun is finally out as we cruise past Spain on our passage to the UK on Mariquita. The sea has a definate attitude about it but compared to the last 24 hours worth of behaviour, it's quite pleasent really. Foulies are hanging out to dry and the salt chucked at us during last nights assualt is emerging as encrusted white swirls of a gentle reminder as to who's boss.

I had to use one of my rough weather meals last night as it was physically impossible to cook in the galley. That and I felt absolutely sea-sick. Which happens once in a while but thankfully not that often. Never let sea-sickness beat you! I Just about managed to spoon one of my pre-made meals, a chilli-con-carne in a pan, added extra kidney beans and served that with nachos, hot baguettes and grated cheese. Apparently it was delicious...

Turns out we leak like a sieve when water is flooding the deck at the rate of yesterdays show-down. The water didn't just drip through into the interior of the boat - it poured. Layers of putty and cat-wrap have since been applied to suspected areas of leakage, the bilges pumped and with any luck, we wont be doing any more impressions of a boat thats in strong danger of sinking.

And I am feeling a whole lot better after a good bowlful of chicken, fennel and noodle soup. I filled it with tarragon, garlic, fennel seeds and leeks and life is good once more. It's funny how quickly you can forget how crap it was, bashing into a huge sea slowing us down to sometimes only 2 knots of speed, the constant spray and cold, wondering when the old sea-legs might decide to kick in. But they have and Spain looks lovely from here but I hope we keep plugging on so that we can make up for lost time and get to the UK as soon as possible.

A brief stop into Barcelona for some fresh stocks and fuel. I made me hasty way to the Barcelonetta market. Awsome.

I need to dive into my vegetable stocks whilst the sea is not too huge and I can actually prep real food in the galley. So I think tonights dinner will be a huge cauliflower and broccoli cheese with a good mustardy sauce, some gruyer cheese and crispy fried lardons served with some hot freshly baked bread. And ketchup. Gotta have ketchup with cauliflower cheese.
Thanks for reading, hope your floor is nice and still.
Stay tuned.
Cheers!

Jim, our fearless leader.

Ready to Go...

All aboard and ready to go. Dying to get going in fact. Funny how when you’re supposed to have left a place and you’re still there, it doesn’t feel right somehow. Like being in school after everybody else has gone home.

Monday is the big day. The Captain comes on board tomorrow night and Monday morning we’re off. The weather does not look ideal but we have a plan. Basically we will hug the coast so that if we need to, we can dive into a port and cower somewhere or other. Then as soon as the weather allows we will hop across to Majorca or Menorca and see how we go from there. It’ll do for now. The crew are itching to leave.

Living in the crew quarters in the forepeak. Cosy...

 

Good job we didn’t go when we planned to though. Good decision. We’ve heard rumours of braver boats then us, who have broken quite important parts of boat in the very weather we are hiding from. Ouch.

My food stores are ready and distributed around the boat wherethey will fit. The owners shower has been a great spot for storage. Having limited fridge and freezer space means I have to be inventive with where it all goes and how to circulate it. Fingers crossed I dont have too much wastage. Hate waste and rotten food, especially in rough weather. A situation of GET ME OUT OF HERE proportions. Mind you last time my freezer kept defrosting...



Full to the brim



Anyway! Im sure it’lll be sweet. I’ve stocked up the sea-sickness pils.

So for now it’s checking out time and hope to blog soon in pastures new. Wish us luck with the weather and stay tuned for adventures at sea. An old wooden boat with ten crew battling to get to the UK. Bon Voyage!!

Cheers!

The Big Heave-Ho

This is it. This is my last night in the double bed. Tomorrow we move onto the boat and into the small cabin with its small bunk. I know I should be better person and not mind. But I do. One shower, 'heads', for ten people, no privacy, no space.

What we do have lots of is weather! In fact we have so much weather, we're not sure when we can leave now, which really sucks. Our Thursday departure has been set back to possibly Monday due to an incoming Mistral the experts are calling 'full blown'.

I need to start praying to Neptune and the weather Gods. And maybe cook some extra bad weather freezer food.

So instead we shall be living on a boat going no where for now, listening to the rain which has been at it for a while. Which is one upside; sleeping on a boat in the rain is pretty soporific and makes one feel all warm and cosy. Which reminds me, I must go and buy me some tights...

Will keep you informed. For now I shall snuggle up and starfish whilst I still sort of can.

Goodnight!

The Queens Diamond Jubilee Pageant and Me

The big move onto the boat has started. Out of the crew house with its multiple bathrooms and copious water flow; its double bed and wardrobe space and onto the boat with - none of the above. Whoopee, she cries.

If you've followed my blog for it's first baby year afloat on the world-wide-web, then you'll be very aware of my feelings when faced with this transition. They're not filled with enthusiasm I'll admit and 'normally' I might have a bit of a moan about it all.

However, this year I have very good reason to be excited. Here's a little story;

35 years ago on a sunny day in June, 1977, a little girl was born. A bit early but perhaps she was keen to get going. Her Majesty The Queen's Silver Jubilee was taking place and the Great British Public were also keen, as mustard in fact, to celebrate. They were baking and hanging bunting and closing the streets for village parties as we Brits are pretty good at doing. You can just imagine the waft of Victoria sponges and sausage rolls, the shrieking children, overloaded with sugar and E numbers, still relatively allowed in them days and all that excitement hanging in the air.

Just as the baby sheets were doing, used as flags to hang from the hospital windows. So the baby girl, newly born and peachy, was laid upon a Terry Toweling nappy in her cot instead of the usual soft, cotton sheet which wafted around with a higher purpose out of the window.

Babies in those days were put on their tummy's to sleep. So this wee little thing as she turned her head from side to side, slowly and successfully removed the many layers of brand new skin from her nose against the harsh threads of the toweling makeshift sheet whilst the real cotton sheets fluttered in the early June breeze.

I came out of hospital with a massive scab on my snoz basically. My brand new, little nose rubbed raw in aid of the Queen's Silver Jubilee. What a sacrifice I made in my first few days.

Well my nasal epidermis sacrifice must have paid off because Mariquita has been invited to attend the Queen's pageant on the Thames for her Diamond Jubilee! We will sail up to the Thames on the 1st of June and on the 3rd of June, my 35th Birthday, we will be there to celebrate the Diamond Jubilee. How exciting! Mariquita on the Thames. She will look awsome.

I've decided such an event deserves a cake; and I really don't mind baking my own Birthday cake if it's to be shared with the Queen. It's no skin off my nose.

I am therefore in the next few months, going to be designing the ultimate Jubilee/Birthday cake. The crew will , I'm sure, be up to the task of tasting the results of my inventions and I commend their commitment to the cause.

So as you can see, I am pretty excited about the move onto the boat this year and our sailing trip to the UK. It's going to be a cracker. I'm sure the Queen will approve of all our hard winter maintenance work. And Mariquita will be proudly gleaming in all her glory. There'll be a few of you watching on the telly too apparently. I'll wave.

Stay tuned therefore, for inside information, stories and cake and all things Diamond Jubilee and we'll see you on the Thames!

Thanks for reading.

Mariquita Comes Out of the Water

The yearly anti-foul requires Mariquita to be lifted out of the water in a couple of giant slings. Before the big crossing to the UK it is good to do this and this year there will also be a shaft check. It's always quite an exciting but strange thing to see your place of work and home taken out of its natural environment like this. Plucked from its soft, secure bed of water into the air and placed on 'stands'. It never feels right to be on a boat out of the water and I can't say that I enjoy it hugely.

We remove the boom from the mast when we do this because the boom overhangs the back of the boat by about 5 meters which adds slightly more to the bill. So with pullies and strops and knots and a winch or two, approximately a tons worth of boom is lowered slowly and safely to the deck by us lot - the crew. 

 

Hauled out on a jaunty angle. I was a little nervous about the coffee machine at this point having remembered I hadn't strapped it in place...

 

She is now parked next to Moonbeam 3, the boat on the left in the scoffolding.

And now we live and work out of our container. The kettle and a fridge have been installed and lunch has become daily visits to the sandwich shop.

And the really exciting news... George and I are home to the UK tonight to move into our new house this weekend! If you think you are more excited than me about anything I dare you to challenge me to a 'who's-more-excited-off'.

But I will win.

Thanks for reading,

Cheers!

Mariquita's New Season; Here We Go Again!

Isn’t it nice to feel wanted? Having avoided blogging for a whole month due to lets say - Life - I feel it's time to return to the keyboard and once again divulge recipes and classic boat adventures, spurred on by popular demand.

When I say popular demand I mean my Mum asked me when I was going to blog again so I thought I’d best get on it.

I was pondering on the metaphor of a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis as Mariquita is freed from her winter state in preparation for the new season ahead. But then I thought that was all a bit flouncy for the roughty-toughty sailor that I am so instead I’ll just tell you how good she is starting to look as we take off her protective deck covers and cap-wrap. Her cap rail has been sanded and has a lovely new coat of varnish. George and Billy have been re-rigging and once again the mast base is maze of freshly varnished and leathered blocks awaiting halyards and jiggers. Our hands have suffered from sanding and sewing leather and now that the sun is more out then in we have had to dig out the sunscreen from the bilges for regular application.

New crew! We have had quite a crew change for the season ahead so a big ‘Hi’ please to Adam, Pippa, Catherina and Martha! Yesterday they all had the mildly frightening introduction to the Mariquita Crew Manual; an instruction guide to their racing positions which when read through on dry land can seem somewhat overwhelming. But even so we are all getting pretty excited about the up and coming season ahead and putting some sails up.

We are UK bound. We plan to set sail from here in Cogolin in the South of France, April 12^th.  The journey will take us through the Gibraltar straights, into Atlantic waters up past Portugal, Spain, a hop (we hope) across the infamous Bay of Biscay and into English waters heading for home. In the next few weeks I shall be stocking up and provisioning, pre-cooking and praying for flat seas; the memories of cooking dinner whilst off the coast of Portugal in 40 knots of breeze, the fruit bowl (and me) flying across the galley whilst Mariquita slammed into huge waves, are still reasonably vivid.

Then whilst in the UK we have very busy schedule training and racing and getting involved with all sorts of exciting ‘events’. More of which I shall let on when I’ve been given the go ahead from the Captain, but suffice to say I’m sure you’ll want to stay tuned for ‘hot off the press’, inside info.

It’s all so exciting!

33 Degrees will be a year old in a few days. I was just looking over some of last years blogs and it is great to read and remember the adventures and food and experiences we had.

Here’s to more of the same.

Thanks for reading, I’ll be back shortly with recipes, rigging and reflections on life aboard a beautiful classic sailing yacht preparing for the long sail home.

Cheers!

 

The Drive.

On Sunday George decided we should go for an 'off-roading' session in his beloved Landrover in the snow and explore the tracks and trails around the hills of the Cogolin area and beyond. Being a bit of a snow-freak I of course thought this was a splendid idea so with snow chains attached, we set off.

With the dependable grunt of the Landy in chains, a force to be reckoned with, we climbed up and above the village of La Garde Freinet and into the narrow tracks of the snowy hills. This is an area more suited to bathing in the famous Cote D'Azure sunshine which teases and tickles the lavender and vineyards and olive trees into flower and fruit. But as we drove, we passed by many a fallen olive bough, the burden of cold snow too much to carry for some.

We continued to climb and twist and turn, the view opening up over the white valleys of the French Riviera on one side, the other side stretching for miles towards the distant piercing-white of the Southern Alps busy catching some rays. The views were paused in their tracks as we slowly ambled through the darkened tunnels of trees, hooded heavily with snow and silence.

 George stopped the car occasionally so I could take photos and it seemed that the stillness the snow had brought with it had effected him somehow. He was very quiet.

But he's like that when he's deep in thought so I left him to it and continued to admire my beautiful view. Lucky old me.

Then after a while George decided to stop to show me a path that led to a view apparently worth photographing. I smiled inwardly thinking how sweet it was for him to indulge my love for my camera and a good view.

We sat on a rock under an olive tree and took in the stillness and the amazing view of the snowy valleys in front of us.

And then he got down on his knee and asked me to marry him.

Oh and I said 'Yes'.

Our Rock.

Now Thats What I'm Talking About!

Oops, was that me? They do say be careful what you wish for but this is what I'm talking about! Snow falling in La Garde Freinet is a very rare event indeed but in the course of an evening I think we've had six inches already and it's still floating down like a billion angry feathers.

I love it!

I think a snow boarding trip could be imminent.

Unfortunatley George has a Landrover and the snow chains to go with it, so trying to blag a day off work tomorrow to build snowmen and take millions of pretty white photos could be tricky. Oh well, more sanding it probably is then. And I'll stick with 'probably', because you never know...

Trying to move Billy's car. Good sign for tomorrow...?

The crew house

Here I am in winter maintenance mode... glamerous no?

Oh look! I'm sanding.

Tim and Joe trying to keep warm in the forepeak

If you made it all the way down to the bottom by the way, it's still snowing.