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We’re tearing the inside of our boat apart. The two cabins are badly designed. Currently there is a three-quarter double bed and a three-quarter single bed.
At the very least we can rearrange the walls for a big (walk-around) double and a grand single or, I am hoping, another double.
This morning there is stuff everywhere, we have to live in half the boat now. Eighteen-and-a-half metres divided by two isn’t very much! It’s not so much the smaller space, but we’ve had to cram 18.5 metres of ‘stuff’ into the other half!
Wrecking the place!
Now we are sleeping and eating in the lounge (not at the same time), luckily the galley is a good size. The wheelhouse is the store room.
We’ve done this before on other boats and in houses, and instead of getting stressed and worrisome about moving everything around and living in a work-space, I am enjoying it.
Two cabins and lots of thinking!
We won’t always have our health and if we do, time will catch up with us eventually… we won’t always be able to do this.
So, we laugh when the mattress becomes a live animal and refuses to be folded in half to go out the hatch.
We giggle when we walk around in circles, picking up ‘stuff’ and putting it back where it came from.
We snort with mirth, when I moved one set of shelves into another room that Noel was trying to empty.
The corridor, part of which will become the main cabin (with ensuite of course!)
This is fun – these are happy days – these are days to enjoy. They make me smile.
My husband worked in a brothel in Barbados. It was just for a few weeks. He was eventually asked to leave. The threats and the rather large, naked ladies that were hosed down daily, convinced him that it really was time to leave.
The ‘body-guards’ in the brothel in Barbados
This bizarre story goes hand-in-hand with almost nine years of my life on the high seas on a ten metre boat. We had close-calls with pirates, muggers, and man-eating crocodiles, which was enough to keep the adrenaline buzzing. Boat crashes, storms, almost sinking and a whale collision filled the gaps, if ever we became complacent.
The storm – you HAD to just get on with it!
A near ‘agreed’ abduction by a beautiful French Gigolo, who lifted me up from the road after I was run-over in France, didn’t alter the incredible bond between my new husband and I – a bond that I’ve only witnessed in movies. But, I still carried the mixed emotions of losing one man, while falling head over heels with another.
But, I have learned to live my life, and I have finally figured out who I am.
Picking our way through reefs to the anchorage in Mayaguana