Quote on "the instant camaraderie of cruisers."
A few minutes’ conversation is all it takes to draw us into each other’s plans; to create a community of concern when anyone has a problem; to make reckless invitations to visit and promises to keep in touch, to spill out personal history known only to our closest friends and relatives ashore. Jerry L.Mashaw, Seasoned by Salt.
A few minutes’ conversation is all it takes to draw us into each other’s plans; to create a community of concern when anyone has a problem; to make reckless invitations to visit and promises to keep in touch, to spill out personal history known only to our closest friends and relatives ashore. Jerry L.Mashaw, Seasoned by Salt.
We spent 16 days on pontoon K, one of the visitor’s docks in the Cascais marina--9 days more than we originally planned, but ample time to enjoy a sense of community with the other cruisers we encountered there. We were a diverse bunch made up of many nationalities (French, English, Dutch, German, Finnish and yours truly, the resident Yankee), retired, semi-retired and young couples on sabbatical and several families with very young children, I have pieced together here a few events and snippets our life there to give you a feel for what it was like. The following did not all happen in one day, but occurred over the course of our stay. All are true.
4:00 a.m. The wind has picked up and the gling-gling of our halyard (the rope which raises the main sail) against the mast wakes me. The noise has woken up Patrice as well and he gets out of bed to go up on deck and tighten it with the winch. After the gling-gling disappears, I now hear the creak and groan of our mooring lines loud and clear. I try to shut the noise out of my ears and tell myself, “go back to sleep, go back to sleep...zzzzzz.”
4:00 a.m. The wind has picked up and the gling-gling of our halyard (the rope which raises the main sail) against the mast wakes me. The noise has woken up Patrice as well and he gets out of bed to go up on deck and tighten it with the winch. After the gling-gling disappears, I now hear the creak and groan of our mooring lines loud and clear. I try to shut the noise out of my ears and tell myself, “go back to sleep, go back to sleep...zzzzzz.”
8:00 a.m. The sun is just up and Patrice volunteers to make our first cup of morning tea. He puts the kettle on and goes up on deck to check out the strength of the wifi signal which varies with the tide and goodness knows what else. A few minutes later, I hear his voice raised and a commotion. I stick my head out of our cabin’s hatch and surmise that a new boat had arrived during the night.
On a visitor’s pontoon, boats come and go frequently and every arrival (and departure) is an event to witness, an opportunity to lend a hand and get to know someone new. However, the arrival of this particular boat has caused more than the usual sensation, especially with the French on the pontoon. Its name Is Penn Duick III and is one of six boats owned and raced by the most famous French sailor of all time, Eric Tabarly. For Patrice this is HUGE for he has considered Tabarly, who has now passed away, to be his own personal hero and mentor since he was a boy.
On a visitor’s pontoon, boats come and go frequently and every arrival (and departure) is an event to witness, an opportunity to lend a hand and get to know someone new. However, the arrival of this particular boat has caused more than the usual sensation, especially with the French on the pontoon. Its name Is Penn Duick III and is one of six boats owned and raced by the most famous French sailor of all time, Eric Tabarly. For Patrice this is HUGE for he has considered Tabarly, who has now passed away, to be his own personal hero and mentor since he was a boy.
8:30 a.m. We’ve met and spoken with the crew on Penn Duick III and Patrice is beside himself with glee. We finally sit down to breakfast and from our cockpit watch, with admiration and a sense of wonder, the joyful daily promenade of parents and small children from the two family boats, one French and one Finnish, moored here go up to the marina facilities for their morning ablutions.
9:00. Cleaning the inside of our boat usually only takes me about an hour or so (one of the perks of living in small space), but this morning I discover mildew underneath our mattresses--Yuck! Suddenly this has become a longer and and much much more unpleasant job. Fortunately it’s sunny today, so I can bring them up on deck to treat them and let them dry out in the sun. Just one more thing I have to be vigilant about in the future.
10:00. I leave the mattresses with Patrice who is doing engine maintenance and has to wait for someone to come from the ship chandlery and take two loads of laundry over to the marina’s laundromat.
10:05 a.m Unbeknownst to me, someone gets there first and nabs both washing machines.
10:10 a.m. I arrive at the laundromat--drat! Machines in use. I’ll have to wait 45 minutes until they’re free. I radio back to Patrice on the walkie-talkie to let him know that this will take longer than planned--no surprise, everything takes longer living on a boat--and use the time to catch up on e-mail and chat with Catherine, the Englishwoman who beat me to the machines. She’s nice, so I forgive her and resolve to get here earlier next time.
10:00. I leave the mattresses with Patrice who is doing engine maintenance and has to wait for someone to come from the ship chandlery and take two loads of laundry over to the marina’s laundromat.
10:05 a.m Unbeknownst to me, someone gets there first and nabs both washing machines.
10:10 a.m. I arrive at the laundromat--drat! Machines in use. I’ll have to wait 45 minutes until they’re free. I radio back to Patrice on the walkie-talkie to let him know that this will take longer than planned--no surprise, everything takes longer living on a boat--and use the time to catch up on e-mail and chat with Catherine, the Englishwoman who beat me to the machines. She’s nice, so I forgive her and resolve to get here earlier next time.
1:00 p.m. Back on board, I hang out the laundry to dry and we prepare lunch. As soon as we sit down, we’re joined by Mr. and Mrs Mallard quacking at us in demand of their share of our meal which we are happy to do. This has become a ritual ever since we invited Luke and Anne with their three little ones from the yacht two boats down from us for tea and these lucky ducks were given the crumbs of my chocolate cake.
2:00 p.m. Just as I’m drifting off for a 20 minute power-nap, I hear the distinct sound of a bow-thruster. A new boat is arriving on the pontoon, no doubt. Seconds later, I hear shouts followed by a blood-curdling scream. I hear Patrice running on deck and I am right behind him. We find a 50-something man lying on the pontoon screaming in pain. Patrice rushes over, hell-bent on administering his new knowledge of CPR if necessary.
It turns out that one of the crew onboard this 57 foot mega yacht (a Southerly for those who might be interested) had improperly tied up a mooring line and when the boat moved forward unexpectedly, the anchor, which was poised on the bow (front) of the boat, hit the skipper, who was standing on the pontoon, in the chest. No CPR needed, but an ambulance is called as broken ribs are suspected. Thankfully it turns out to be just bruising. Whew!
It turns out that one of the crew onboard this 57 foot mega yacht (a Southerly for those who might be interested) had improperly tied up a mooring line and when the boat moved forward unexpectedly, the anchor, which was poised on the bow (front) of the boat, hit the skipper, who was standing on the pontoon, in the chest. No CPR needed, but an ambulance is called as broken ribs are suspected. Thankfully it turns out to be just bruising. Whew!
3:00 p.m. Nap time forfeited, I take down the laundry (yet another advantage to this life is I don’t even think about ironing), finish some boat chores, figure out what we’re having for dinner and get ready to have drinks with several jolly Englishmen on the pontoon, who we have invited aboard after they admired our boat. Yep, that’s all it takes to get invited aboard Taka Trois. I admit it, we’re shamefully proud of our beautiful boat and love to show her off.
6:00 p.m. One of my favorite parts of cruising is hearing everyone’s story of how and why they came to be on their boat and what their plans are. These stories are told on the pontoon, in passing, at the laundromat, but are most enjoyable over a cup of tea or a few ‘sundowners.’ The three Englishmen, who we have dubbed “three men on a boat,” do not disappoint and regale us with their stories. They must have enjoyed our company as well, as they have invited us back for drinks aboard their boat the next evening. Either that or it was because we admired their boat...you see, we’re all ‘boat proud’ at heart.
8:30 p.m. The Englishmen have gone on shore for dinner and further divertissements* and we have finished our meal. The wind has picked up again and is pushing us onto the boat next door. As this boat is currently uninhabited, Patrice goes up to see what he can do. From below, I hear a funny noise and then some shouting. Someone coming back on the pontoon took a mis-step straight into the water! Thankfully Patrice was there to help him back on the pontoon. The poor chap is absolutely fine, just wet and embarrassed, so he’ll be grateful if I don’t mention his name or nationality here.
10:00 p.m. We’re tucked in bed after watching an episode of NCIS, our current favorite series on DVD. I hear the creak and groan of our mooring lines and as Taka Trois gently rocks us with the incoming tide, I tell myself, “just go to sleep....zzzzzz.”
*We learn the next morning that one of our ‘three men in a boat’, who looked rather worse for wear sporting various cuts and bruises on his face, was forced to play the role of knight in shining armor and rescued a damsel in distress in the bar where they wound up in later that night. It’s good to know that pontoon K has such gallant gentlemen in residence.
8:30 p.m. The Englishmen have gone on shore for dinner and further divertissements* and we have finished our meal. The wind has picked up again and is pushing us onto the boat next door. As this boat is currently uninhabited, Patrice goes up to see what he can do. From below, I hear a funny noise and then some shouting. Someone coming back on the pontoon took a mis-step straight into the water! Thankfully Patrice was there to help him back on the pontoon. The poor chap is absolutely fine, just wet and embarrassed, so he’ll be grateful if I don’t mention his name or nationality here.
10:00 p.m. We’re tucked in bed after watching an episode of NCIS, our current favorite series on DVD. I hear the creak and groan of our mooring lines and as Taka Trois gently rocks us with the incoming tide, I tell myself, “just go to sleep....zzzzzz.”
*We learn the next morning that one of our ‘three men in a boat’, who looked rather worse for wear sporting various cuts and bruises on his face, was forced to play the role of knight in shining armor and rescued a damsel in distress in the bar where they wound up in later that night. It’s good to know that pontoon K has such gallant gentlemen in residence.
The sun sets on the western part of the marina. Pontoon K is located on the southern end.
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