Today has now been officially declared a complete disaster and I've already submitted my request to have it permanently erased from history.

Do you ever have those days when it was a bad idea to even contemplate getting out of bed? When everything that can possibly go wrong, does go wrong? Well that sums up today perfectly. The plan was that we would go down together to the boat club. Lars-Göran would launch one sailing boat, just to test the crane out before next week's official start of launching, then we would work together on our own boat. His estimate was that it would take 45 minutes for the boat launch (and I could be there to assist), then we'd have 5-6 hours to work on the boat. I had hoped to finish hand sanding the wooden rail in the cockpit and perhaps apply the first coat of varnish.

What actually happened?

Well, we got to the boat club okay, and the maintenance man asked if Lars-Göran could use the crane to move a heavy container before he did the launch. We were early, so that was no problem. I decided to wait in the clubhouse with Lambi while he cranked up the crane to do this small job, figuring I'd go out when Kjell arrived with his tractor and wagon.

The crane can best be described as a cantankerous, bloody-minded, rusting, ancient pile of shuddering bolts held together by blind faith (and chewing gum). After a short time, I realised I couldn't hear any noise, so I went outside to see that the damn thing wouldn't start - AGAIN.



That's my guy clambering over it like a monkey, watched anxiously by the owner of the boat we were supposed to launch in 15 minutes. Lars-Göran tried everything he could think of. Later, Kjell arrived and took a look as well. He's a qualified mechanic and even he couldn't get it to spring into life, despite the application of a couple of swift hits with an enormous wrench. Meanwhile time was ticking on and the boat owner was getting nervous. The regular crane driver was summoned and he arrived with a sledge hammer and pounded the starter motor which miraculously fired up. Not a very comforting thought is it? It reminded me of my father bashing on the television hoping to get better reception!

Well, it looked like the boat launch was back on. But this boat was behind several others, so Kjell used his tractor to shift three of the boats out of the way. When they got to the second boat, there was another problem. This boat was on its own trailer and the tyres were flat. Another delay, while Lars-Göran got out a second tractor, went around to the cellar garage and hauled out a large industrial compressor so they could inflate the tyres.

When that was done, Kjell went to move it and part of the way through the process, the front tyre exploded as the rim it was attached to completely rusted through and collapsed. This sent eight tons of boat leaning and I had an awful vision of a domino effect as this boat fell, knocking over a dozen boats nearby. God must have been smiling, though, because everyone sprang into action and managed to set up enough timber to keep the boat steady and prevent it tilting over. But meanwhile, it was not able to be moved from it's spot right in the middle of the main gateway to the wharf.



You couldn't pick a more inconvenient spot to break down if you tried. This is the main gate and there is no way a car can get in or out. Fortunately, there is another gate so people will have to use that until the owner of this boat can come and jack it up and get a new rim and tyre. I'm sure he'll be delighted when he's told the news!

By this time, several hours had gone by. Kjell had another appointment elsewhere, so Lars-Göran said to go and he'd use the club's other tractor and trailer to launch Voyager alone. Again, all of this takes time to set up. But at least the equipment was available and working. He then lifted the boat from it's winter frame and onto the boat trailer.



I always find this utterly nerve-racking. You hear the creaks and strains of the straps as they tighten around the hull, then the shudder as she is lifted up out of her frame. They start to swing, so they must be held steady with ropes and guided onto the trailer so that the keel rests firmly. She is then locked into place with a series of straps and struts and hauled by tractor down to the water. All of the time, you are only too aware that this is many tons of weight and expense and that you are responsible for getting her safely in the water.

Once down at the water, Lars-Göran then heads back to the upper wharf to collect the crane. The straps are attached again and then he lifts the boat from the trailer and gently lowers her into the water.



It is such a relief when the boat is safely launched. While the owner moves her along to the mast crane to set up the rigging, all the equipment must be returned to their parking places.

And this "small job" took five and a half hours! We decided that it was better to head off home at this stage and write the whole day off as a disaster. Luckily mother nature came to the rescue and salvaged the day for me. There are the first daffodils at the wharf, huddled up near a wall:



Then over in another sunny spot, poking up through the gravel in a most inhospitable place with no shelter is the first of the spring tulips. So beautiful and delicate and adding a splash of colour to the grey landscape around it.



And out on the water, I spotted the return of the first alfågel. I had never seen these birds in Australia (I think they are only found in the northern hemisphere), so I had to look up the English translation of that word. It seems they are long-tailed ducks.



Aren't they beautiful? I had no idea there were so many varieties of ducks until I came to Sweden. I thought there were maybe a few, but had never thought about it. But living in a coastal town where they come and go with a regular pattern at different times, you can see what an enormous variety of them exist.

The other welcome sight was the first few terns for the season.



I think this may be a common tern or fisktärn, but I'm not sure. Again there are different ones of these and perhaps as the others return, I'll be able to distinguish which ones are which.

Today, I wished I could be free as these birds.