Because of our late night last night, we didn’t get up till respectably late this morning, which was rather a pity since it was quite a nice day for a change. Anyway, we took the opportunity to do a couple of the jobs which needed doing around the boat. I swam out to the piling forming the fourth corner of the dock to attach a line to stop us rubbing up against the dock. It was bloody freezing, but in best banging your head on a brick wall fashion, it was good to get out, + I felt rather better for it. I then filled the water tank, while Val was busily trying to finish off all the accumulated sewing. Then Frank, our lift-giver of the other day, strolled by, so we wandered down to his boat to give it the once-over. Frank was really just like a kid with a new toy – he knows nothing about sailing, but has gone out + bought himself a $160,000 boat, 50 ft long, loaded up to the gunwals with expensive electronic equipment. I just hope he doesn’t go out in a storm + kill himself + his crew.
He gave us a ride into town again, which helped. Performed a few chores, dumping some stuff at the Sally Army, + managed to find me quite a decent pair of trousers. We picked up that other film, which had survived its experiences, tho’ we viewed it with somewhat mixed feelings, since it was of our journey upon the Alma. We bought a few groceries + other necessaries + then walked home. Cooked up a smashing stew for dinner – it even had dumplings, tho’ they weren’t really up to top quality.
Rather a mundane, chores-based day. Actually, after the cultural smorgasbord of travelling through Central America and crossing the Pacific, I fear that the diary is going to be rather dull for quite a while. Of course, I hope it has its interest, as a view of life forty years ago, but I suspect it will reflect the rather more domestic phase that our lives move into at this point.