Boat preparation, day four of six (maybe)

It's been a long time since I've participated in the splashing or the hauling of Raconteur; perhaps since the end of 2012?  [correction: it was at the end of 2014]. JP and Susan have done it each time since, under a range of circumstances.  Of course, the last round was not long before the pandemic, after almost two years, because we were building the house, ahead of the pandemic-shortened season when they could only get her as ready as possible at Port Louis Marina, before the amazing crew at Island Dreams could bring her around to the yard.

We stopped in to see them yesterday, and got to meet Anita (one of the owners) for the first time, though of course we've been in touch throughout.  She gave us an abbreviated version of what THEY went through to get permission for Marc to go out (at all) and to get the various stranded/abandoned boats into safe harbor...involving a fortuitous phone number for a sympathetic official.  Grenada, after the same initial chaos that was universal, did a pretty darn good job keeping its yachting industry intact and supporting both the local community that makes a living from it and the cruisers and others who found themselves in a range of challenging circumstances.  It was nice to be able to thank them in person.

The list of boat tasks is more or less endless; Susan has a list from the last splash preparation (ah, those innocent days) and I haven't attempted to keep any kind of comprehensive list myself.  It seems that every single element of the boat needs something: engine, dinghy engine, dinghy and its parts, anchor chain, windlass, electronics, bottom, sides, deck, lifelines, lines, linens, rugs, clothes, food and drink, dishes, glasses, pots and pans, appliances, fuels (diesel for jerrycans, gasoline for the dinghy), plumbing (leak: forward head), electrical (I'm looking at you, windlass), life raft (see yesterday's post)...

The forward head leak we can live with, if necessary, as there is the other head; we may get to the fix or not before we splash.  The windlass - involving fried electrical lines - will be the focus of tomorrow's work effort, as it is really not fun to anchor without it.  

P.S. The red-keeled yacht in the photo is the boat of Swiss friends who also managed to get themselves back to Europe sometime after JP and Susan got to the US.  We have yet to hear their story; they were in Carriacou as of early April of 2020, and we know they have been back home since (we think) sometime that summer. She looks good.