Getting Rid of the Rot.

The Autumn sunshine caressing those sweet mahogany planks, for the first time in the 50 years since they were cut and shaped, picks out the stunning underwater profile of the 'Anna M', in the photo above. It also picks out the sharp turn to the bilge, behind the ladder  and in the vicinity of the engine. Whatever strains were built into the steamed oak frames, combined with the heat and the vibration and thrust of the engine, are what has caused them to fracture, which is the main problem we have been addressing.

It was a dirty job, removing all that paint, but I am already applying red lead paint again, heavily thinned with white spirit (aguarras). I don't want those planks exposed for long! Like any boat-owner, especially of an old wooden boat, I put her on the concrete in the first place with the greatest reluctance and trepidation. Besides losing a sailing season, one knows in advance that the time and expense involved will be something of a nightmare. How far does one go? Do I have to remove all the paint? And all the caulking? The paint yes, but only the caulking that is rotten, is the answer I've settled for. 

In the main it turns out that I am enjoying the whole business. It takes me back to working on my Dad's boats down at Harry Phillips' in Rye in Sussex. Harry and his son Derek used to make the clinker-built fishing boats, with their wonderfully buoyant elliptic sterns, that worked from the beach at Hastings, where we lived. I could see the boats coming and going from my bedroom window, and used to go down and mess about the beach and see what the fishermen were up to. What it all led to!

Sixty years later, wooden boats are even more precious and continue to exercise their special fascination. What a crazy business, one might think, to try to fashion such craft, and enable them to withstand the battering of the waves, out of all those bits of wood! But with care and skill, the shape actually comes out of the wood, and withstand the waves they will, like all the wooden ships that went before. While the likes of me will never be a craftsman, most of the skills involved are pretty basic, and we are able to do our share to keep them sea-worthy. They may remain so as long as long as someone puts that effort in. I offer a parallel from my personal take on life: truth is to be coaxed out of words, and cared for in the midst of the batterings it gets, in a similar way.

Working on the 'Anna M' makes me realise just how precious she is. She speaks all the languages; Portuguese, Spanish, English, French, German, they all understand. And what fun it is to work with the different nationalities, and find the words to communicate the same old problems! Here is the latest recruit to the job, Stefan, who is German. 

It is so sad that the Brexiters of this world don't seem to understand what opportunities for all of us the EU has opened up. It is also an awful failure of leadership. For all the talk of the advantages of the single market and the necessity of pooling sovereignty in Europe if we are to respond effectively to the threats and challenges that we face, how about trying to tell them of the fun to be had in a united and peaceful Europe? Yet there is something else to be said; no matter how beautiful something may be, rot will set in. It must be faced up to and got rid of, and that hard and dirty process is what brings the beauty out and establishes genuine solidarity. I leave the reader to deduce what I conceive of as the rot that must be tackled in the British ship of state! It won't be easy, but the longer it is left, the worse it gets.

Above the fog, and where N.S. de Nazare was discovered, in cave beneath chapel at left.