Hard work and monumental rewards

During our first few weeks of boat ownership, we ticked off one accomplishment after another, feeling a growing mixture of pride and amazement as we did so. Not only had we brought some prior knowledge along with us this time, but having also grown as a team, we were even more able to tackle one issue after another. We also looked back on our time in Largs with a whole new appreciation, so much of the work we’d done there having set the groundwork for tackling the challenges we now faced.

We enjoyed nearly every meal in the comfort of the cockpit under the warm spring skies, curiously looking around at other activity in the marina while we ate. Day by day, our skin began to lose the stark white of winter. The variety of jobs we had to do on deck allowed us to bask in the baby blue skies, sunlight glittering up at us from the rippling marina waters as we worked. It felt a stark contrast from our time in Largs, and though we knew cold and rainy days would arrive towards the end of the year, we basked in those present moments – the joyous feeling of an active and outdoor life.

Having set up a basic standard of living, we turned our attention to maintenance tasks which would get us out on the water – it had been over two years since we’d last been sailing, and nearly three since we’d finished our journey with Elizabeth Anne (our previous vessel) from Scotland to the north west of England. As such, we were itching to throw the lines from the boat and make our way out into the harbour, to begin to feel the freedom and independence that detachment from land and people brings.

We replaced the old, no longer functional, batteries on board and completed our first engine service. The latter being a task that we’d hoped would take a few hours and instead took two days, as part of our system differed from any information we could find online – a frequent occurrence on older boats, as each seems to have its unique quirks, making it all the more unique, but all the harder to maintain! After hours of staring at and discussing our DC electric system, we’d achieved a basic understanding, though some of the modifications seemed to defy logic to us – something we weren’t sure was due to our lack of understanding, or purely an artistic design the previous owner had installed.

We put the anchor back in place and pulled out all the chain to measure it; took our sails to the sailmaker for inspection; arranged for our standing rigging to be replaced; bought, cut into shape, and replaced the mattress in the aft cabin; researched each and every one of these things before we did them; worked our day jobs; did many more odd jobs in between; and even found a little time to explore!

Three weeks and one day since we’d first held the ownership documents in our hands, we had a perfect day of low winds ahead. After a quick revision of the collision regulations, anchoring, and mooring, we began to prepare Lanita for our maiden voyage. Everything took longer than we’d expected as we moved methodically through the steps, a feeling of excited nervousness moving within me as each moment brought us closer to leaving the safety of the pontoon.

Then suddenly, we were off. Lines untied, Lanita began to drift forward as I moved us into gear. We kept alert and focused as we snaked our way out of the marina into the expansive harbour, hoping not to meet any other vessels as we did so. Portland Marina is situated inside Portland Harbour, with the harbour walls providing an extra layer of protection before reaching the open sea of the English Channel. As our sails were with the sailmaker, and we were waiting for our more than 10-year-old rigging to be changed, we planned to stay within the comfort of those ancient, grey-brown sandstone walls.

We motored for a while, getting a feel for the steering and speed. I was elated to be out, nervous to be at the helm and desperately not wanting to hit any obstacles as I moved us slowly along without any real direction. After some discussion, we made our way to the north-east corner of the harbour, near the northern exit. We were preparing, as best as we could, to set anchor for the first time – not just on Lanita, but the first time we’d ever tried this manoeuvre alone, and the second ever!

Unbelievably, despite it being neither an elegant nor a smooth process, we were successful on our first try. The anchor had caught well in what we would later discover was a clay-like mud ground below. We scanned the surroundings for transit points – the process of lining up objects which we could keep referring to, to help ascertain whether we were moving. 

White cliffs towered beyond the harbour wall, while on the closest shore, sandy beaches and an undulating forest green separated the deep blue water from pale blue sky. The marina, now just a distant dull grey outline.

Lanita has the luxury of a swim ladder, which Miki untied and lowered into place. We took turns stepping down and cautiously dipping a toe into the brisk water. A sea that looked blue from the cockpit took on a turquoise green hue as I neared its surface. Though too cold to tempt us in, the metal rungs distorting and dancing below the surface sparked my imagination. Thoughts of hot days and invitingly warm water floated through my mind as I appreciated the ease with which we’d be able to climb from and back onto our Lanita. 

After taking some time to relax, bobbing gently on the rippling tide, we decided to prepare for leaving. The wind was supposed to pick up again and we didn’t want the challenge of mooring with heavier winds.

A quiet nervousness settled over us as we re-entered the marina waters. We’d talked through the mooring process and the wind was in our favour. Now we just had to focus and do our best.

We came into the pontoon as smoothly as we could have hoped for. Later, we reflected how nearly all of our previous journeys had involved arriving in a new place at the end of the day, testing both our navigation and pilotage skills, and taking us beyond the remit of the day skipper course we had completed. It was comforting to come back to the same place, giving us one less thing to think about and perhaps being the reason that this was the first time we’d successfully moored without assistance from marina staff. That, and we’d had some mooring tips from a neighbouring couple a few nights previously which served to increase our confidence and vision of the procedure as we came in.

Having tied Lanita back to the pontoon, we both calmly made our way inside, and once out of view of any neighbours, jumped for joy, flushed from our success and unable to conceal our elation any longer. Jumping complete, we calmly headed back outside to finish securely fastening the boat, and pack away for the day.