And so, years passed,winnys shattered mast slowly grew and took form, grew halliards, stays and crosstays, grew rigging pins and rigging nuts and wires until afloat in amongst Spanish boats she was gain the belle of the ocean. Or almost.. intrepid souls began to venture out to scrub and clean her underbelly, paint her decks, to reinfoce and reshape her wonderus bowsprit.
Soon sailors travelled down to fair and green galicia to compleate the good ships krew; captin Gazza, Tim the Dancer, Vic the Viking, oran ‘guns’ stuart, oshan the moshan in the ocean, and paddy-o..gathered in sunny north spain. we awated the delivery of a liferaft, stocked up on provisions, filled up on Spanish olive oils to smuggle in to Ireland, and caught up with old friends; two gorgeous cousins met on first arrival in spain with broken mast. songs and music and joy!
Wilst coffy time was comancing one morning in the cock pit, a man from the mareena came and gave the news; the life raft had arrived! Big Chear. A few more tomatoes where bought up, bits and pieces collceted, we fuewled up and away away away!!
In to the ocean again with the sea and the spreay and in the sunshine, joy upon joy. With the wind on our nose we bashed through great steep waves which through the contence of the ship hither and thither un till all was made fast. Passed the beautifull cost of spain in the bight light we sailed on and on. the krew where divvied out watches, life on bord was established and almost all began to feel the moshan in there bellys, many offered there luches back up to the sea. Out of sight of land now we hove to and ate dinner as the sun set and a full moon rose and dolphins played around the boat. Though the night on watches, 2 hours on 4 hours off. some fond sleep, some found them selves thrown this way and that and wetness.
With the waves and weather on our nose relentlessly tossing the boat around, much sea sickness endured. Sprey kicked up from the found holes in the deck and send drips down below. In the forred (frount) cabin in which myself and oshan were stationed, freaquent streams and sea sprey fung its self upon us. Warter found its way in to our dry bags and sleeping bags. the wind was cold but the sun was warm and delicious fresh veg from spain, rich coffee, and songs kept spirits high, on the whole.
Another fairly uncomfortable night passed with the boat under sail and leaning at about 45degrees to the left. We fell out of bunks, and we got bak in, we got cold, ad we got warm and we drak sweet cups of tea as the moon rose and dolphins jumped about us in its light and as the dawn rose. Garry and tim began the rythim of reading mystical poems in their morning wach. Poems of the sufi mystic rumi and the first femail baha’i; tahireh who wrote with deep and beautifull passion and who was executed for unveiling her self in pulblic in coservative 19th century iran, whose last words were;’you can kill me, but you will never stop the emancipation of women!’
With the third day wind turned a little more in our favour and the kew began to regain lost sleep. The sun bathed us and we lased the wheelwith a bairing direct to Ireland and spent the day playing music in the cockpit. Life began to feel purely sweet!
Andanother day passed. The krew now well in the rythim of things, having developed good sleeping patterns, having scoped out the best bunks to sleep in and which to nt sleep in, with stronger sea legs and sea bellys. After being hundreds of nauticle miles from any land we began to loom in on ireland, still well over the horizon. Though the 4th night at sea, anticipation of arrival was growing and most slepped little, with songs sung though the night time watches. A windy dawn arrived, oran mentioned parboiling potatoes, and the frying a few times which sent oshan in to a breakfast frenzy. An incredible morning feast was created with the last of our delicious Spanish tomatoes and fryed potatoes and eggs and glory! the krew gathered in the sunbleached blowey rocking morning and felt material satisfaction, delicicious coffee, Ireland in view.
Oran and myself went for a nap having been up since our watch had started at 4 in the morning to be awoken by extatic crys, we emerged from the cabin to be met by gret green and rocky irish clifs, sunshine and vic and oshan pulling up fish by the fist full. Vic time on a trawler was made evident by exquisite gutting and filiting skills; gutting fish in 5 seconds flat!
And then along the coast and up a little river, past a multitude of boats, past boys fliging themselves off a tall pier on a small bicycle, and on to a jetty in the luscious town of croshaven. Damp and joyfull we embraced on the hard land and tripped out as the hard floor continue to wobble, waves appearing where no waves exsisted. We ate vicks fishes! We where in Ireland! We stll had a mast! joy upon joy!