The second time there was too much wind. Even with just the jib up. We were thrown around horribly and I actually felt seasick, which is unusual for me. I did manage to get one lop-sided photo.
But then there was nothing for it but to come back to the Marina.
Where I was set upon by an irate mother duck. Hey, whose dock is it anyway?
After my experience last year with the sadistic swan at Sumter I am naturally wary of waterfowl. But after a bit she relented and paddled off with the family.
Finally, the fourth time, last Friday, the weather was perfect. Sunshine, wind at 10 knots. We were all set for an idyllic sail. At last. Then hubby tried to start the engine. The choke was stuck open. We twiddled and pushed and shoved but all to no avail. Even hubby's perennial cure-all, "Get a bigger hammer" didn't work. The chap who could possibly have fixed it was away for the Fourth of July. There was nothing for it but to stay in the Marina. Again. Open the back of the Volvo and have a picnic and pretend we were at Henley Regatta. The young seagull thought it was all very funny.
"If it's any consolation", I said, "I think the wind's getting up."
"Yes", said hubby, "the wind's getting up".
"Wouldn't be much fun."
"No it wouldn't."
But we weren't convinced.