Nightfall

It’s a cool evening in London and I’ve just finished having a quick chat with Tim, who is sailing on Nightfall to bring her home to England from Sweden. It has been a slightly arduous journey—not the best weather, small mishaps, and while the journey has been wonderful, I sense the desire to simply be home in Tim’s voice. They will all have wonderful stories to tell and fond memories, of course; it is one of those adventures of a lifetime—sailing down the Baltic coast, seeing a different part of the world, experiencing ports and people in places that are quite different from England. No, the desire to be home is less about wanting the trip to end than it is simply wanting to be here, with me. Am I a bit conceited for saying that?

Nightfall is just beyond Norderney, less than 300 miles now from the coast of England—they plan to head for Ramsgate, a port close enough to call home, and almost due west of Zeebrugge. With favourable wind, Nightfall should reach Ramsgate by Saturday, which is a relatively short train journey back to London for Tim.

When Nightfall first set off with a crew of four (owners Tom and Karen, Tim, and Eddie), the two-week journey was meant to exclude night sailing, but now that the trip has been delayed due to weather, etc, tonight they sail the North Sea, three hours on/three hours off for the helmsmen. Tim is used to it; for the 16-day trip from Gran Canaria to St Lucia on Tom’s previous sailboat, Nightlife, it was the same interval. No doubt there will be little chance of flying fish leaping on to this boat as it traverses the North Sea!

Here’s a quick look at what’s left of Nightfall’s maiden voyage:

Mirepoix the Cat and I have managed well since the 2d—even without electricity in key rooms in the house, no land line phone service, and a broken shower pole (when it rains, it pours)! We are fine here in London, and we are both anxiously awaiting Tim’s return. Poor Mirepoix has been without milk and any decent table food!

I had a wonderful postcard from Nakskov today from Tim—addressed to “Mrs” . . . it made me smile. I’m not sure if absence makes the heart grow fonder—I am, after all, very fond of Tim even when he’s sitting three feet away from me as we read email on our computers.  I do miss conversation; we spend the time together most nights while preparing dinner simply catching each other up with our day, and that continues into the meal and with the lingering sips of wine that follow.  Life’s simple pleasures.

There is rose champagne chilling—one of life’s adventures (and I don’t mean rewiring the house with leads to have a cold fridge or a cup of tea) deserves a celebratory toast—and I will be home on Saturday in London, waiting for the text from Tim that tells me when he will arrive at my doorstep.

Until then, a safe journey to Nightfall.