I arrive back at the boat quite late Sunday morning still
buoyed up and happy from my encounter with the four kids. HS is grumpy. He made
breakfast assuming I would be back sooner and my serving is sitting cold in the
galley waiting for me. I eat it cheerfully and ask about his plans for the day.
He wants to start taking the engine apart and, at very least, diagnose the
problem, and, he states very clearly, he will need my help. ‘No problem,’ I
say, ‘just let me know what I can do for you.’ For the next seven hours he
works on the engine getting angrier and angrier and grimier and grimier. The
language he uses goes from bad to worse and would make Suzanne’s ears turn very
red. I am not really needed but get the impression that he likes to have me
there as moral support or something. I will sit quietly, diligently, for twenty
minutes, agreeing with everything he says – though we both agree on several
occasions that I don’t have a clue what he is talking about – but doing
nothing. Then, without moving, I pick up my computer to start organizing my photos
or some such and immediately he needs me to go to the tool room to get a
certain screwdriver. I am not sure if I am imagining it or not but it seems to
me that, at least subconsciously, he is upset if he doesn't have 100% of my
attention and consequently fabricates a wee task for me each time I divert a
bit of it elsewhere. I get the screwdriver, or whatever, sit patiently for
awhile, try to reach silently for my computer, and the pattern repeats itself.
I wouldn't mind helping if I could provide real help, but, let’s face it,
taking the engine apart and diagnosing the problem with the transmission is
just not a skill I have, and, to boot, there is room for exactly one person
down in the engine dungeon, and, also, he knows how to do this and loves doing it.
Eventually the offending part is found, a broken buffer plate, which,
apparently, is not too bad, and, a few hours later, after the engine has been
raised onto blocks and the flywheel taken off and goodness only knows what
else, we are, thankfully, done for the day. I hope I am not ‘needed’ everyday.
I want to print off photos for the kids I met, find free internet and check my
e-mail, explore the rest of this island, take the ferry to the next island over
and explore it too. I do not, really, at all, want to help fix the engine, but,
unfortunately, for me, if today is any indication, I will, lily-livered as
always, spend my time here looking for screwdrivers and being frustrated. Two
days, I determine, I need, for myself, to go off and be a tourist, or I will
not sail with HS when he leaves here. (Oooh, maybe I should check and see if
flights from here exist first!) Hopefully he will need to order a spare part or
something and the two days will just appear. I don’t want to have to negotiate
for them. I am such a wuss!
