Back to "Normal"

The last three months became normal to us, but since coming back we've had to adjust to a different kind of normal.

We hired a car to bring all our gear home with us, stopping on the way back to look at a wedding venue. The next morning there were delays on the M25, so we ended up driving around the southern section to avoid the traffic, it seems nothing has changed. We arrived at home to see the front garden had thrived in the London weather, it was overgrown and just getting to the door, seemed like one of my short cuts on one of our many walks in the highlands.

Inside we were met by Gina, one of three cats we have, she didn't bound into our arms, in fact she didn't really give us any sort of welcome at all. Only after an hour or so did the cats seem to remember us. The shy one Roxy, seems to have lost a lot of her shyness and rather than making a dash for it as soon as we come round a corner, she'll now come to us for strokes. So shy was Roxy, that when Kirsty and I started seeing each other, there was a time when I doubted Roxy's existance. Now she's been sleeping by my side at night, when before she might only make it onto the corner furthest from my head.

The long weekend has been thoroughly relaxing for me, no weather forecast to worry about, no wondering what will break next, no having to make a headland at a certain time because of the tide. We returned the car on Saturday, did a bit of shopping and came back to clear the front garden in the afternoon. The greenery was reduced from the trees, bushes and hedges, and now sits in numerous bags waiting to go to the recycling centre. Gardening is a chore but you don't worry about what will happen if the wind picks up. While sailing is relaxing, there is always a "What if?" or two going around in my mind, being at home there has been none of that, and that's what has been relaxing for me.

There have been many other things to get used to and come to terms with. Getting up out of bed, rather than having to climb out, going to a bathroom as opposed to an area next to the fore cabin. Having a hot shower metres away from where you sleep, a shower you don't have to get dressed to use, you can just slip on your dressing gown and wonder down the hall. A dishwasher, a toaster and an oven that all work the way we've been brought up to expect. On Pixie, it seems perfectly acceptable to remove the contents of the fridge for a bottle of beer lurking in the coldest part at the bottom, back at home I can open the fridge, take out a beer and close the door. No longer to I have to spread the contents of the fridge around the boat, looking for a clear surface to put lettuce, cheese and other assorted cool items on, I can open the door and a beer is there to welcome me.

The memories of the cruise have turned rose tinted, mainly because the memories before Cape Wrath seems to have been replaced by the memories of Orkney and the relaxing pace of the Canals. There were quite a few times on the West Coast when Kirsty and I felt like we couldn't go on, asking ourselves why we were there? Neither of us were enjoying it, slogging our way to windward, and watching bits of our well maintained yacht break, bend or refuse to work. Me complaining about the weather, Kirsty longing for a bath. Not being able to go on deck that evening because it was too cold, too wet or too windy or all three. At the time we vowed we'd never do a trip like this again. We carried on, and now we are glad we did, we managed to sail up the north coast in a really bad summer, it's hard to imagine a worst summer to attempt a trip like we did. It's had to see another period when we'll go through something like that.

The other night we looked back at some of the photos I took. I'm a professional photographer, and will only take photos when I know they will come out well, therefore I rarely take photographs in the rain or while it's overcast, only when the sun shines. Therefore my photographic images always show the trip when it was sunny. While it wasn't dawn 'til dusk sunshine all the time (only around 4 days while we were cruising Scotland) the sun did make an appearance more than I seem to remember in my mind. There were of course times when the sun came out, but it was blowing 30 knots, and unless you notice a tree at a funny angle or white tipped waves there's nothing to show otherwise. I can also remember being in Tobermory, it was raining when we arrived, and gradually cleared up, the sun came out for 4 minutes while we were there, the photograph I have is of a sunny Tobermory.

Since coming back I've got rid of a load of clothes, having not missed them or worn them for the last 3 months I have no attachment to them. I have however had to think about what to wear again. On board, a T-shirt would last between showers and jeans would last a week. Now it's back to a daily shower and a fresh T-shirt everyday. I have to remember where my T-shirts and clothes are, having not used draws or wardrobes for three months. We didn't miss television at all, we watch 2 DVDs on Kirsty's laptop while we were away. I happily sat for 3 hours watching a GP, and Kirsty and I spent the same amount of time catching up on the Eastenders. It was nice to relax for those hours, and although we were never great telly addicts.

It was a trip of a life time for us. Now Kirsty is back at work and I go back tomorrow, it's given me a bit of time to reflect on the trip and what we gained out of it. Obviously I've gained a fiancée out of it, and there is no one else I'd rather spend my life with. As Kirsty said the other night to our friends " We had remarkably few rows" and it's true! We were living in close company with each other for 3 months, and we hardly ever spent any time apart, and I think we had about 3 or 4 disagreements in that time. When there were bad times one of us would be strong, we could rely on each other, trust each other, we knew what the other was thinking and any concerns they might have. Our disagreements weren't about anything personal, mostly they were more about the frustration of the weather and the situations we found ourselves in. By the end of the trip we were a great team, we knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, we enjoyed each others company, and we had both got ourselves through this great adventure together.

The sense of achievement is also something that makes me think. Sailing across the top of Britain was a great feeling, seeing the weather map of the British Isles on TV  last night and thinking we've sailed that far. OK if I wanted a bigger ambition we could buy a bigger map. But I think we've done something to be proud of, but that wasn't why we did it, we did it because we wanted to sail around Scotland, not to get a warm fuzzy feeling when we see a map of Scotland. I also feel very proud that we did it, just the two of us, and in a 32 ft boat. Many of the places we went to we were the smallest visiting boat in the marina, bay or harbour. There were times when we felt like we were in the middle of nowhere, physically and emotionally.

If I wasn't hit by a 12 tonne powerboat, and thought that I had died earlier this year, then I would say that this trip is the hardest thing I've done. Both physically and emotionally it has been draining. My accident has meant there were many things I couldn't do on the boat that I used to take for granted, from lifting our clothing storage bags around to be able to sit for any amount of time in one place while we were sailing. This made it harder for me on a physically level, there were days on the trip when walking was painful, let alone having to wind winches or pull up sails, and live at a 20º angle for a few hours of the day.

Emotionally there were times in Gairloch when we thought we were on our way again, gale after gale had gone through, our engine stopped, we got the fuel sorted, left again, only to find out we had blown the head gasket. Once over that, we found out the cylinder head was damaged, it seemed like an endless boxing match when we were already on the ropes, but no referee was there to stop it. One thing someone told me when I asked about long term cruising was "Everything happens for a reason" and after all the time we spent at Gairloch it's one of the places we have the fondest memories of, not because of all the problems on the boat, but all the people we met who helped us out.

This is the first time since May 22nd that Kirsty hasn't been more 30ft away from me for more than a couple of hours, and it's strange. If Kirsty wasn't around I had Pixie to consume my time, she's in Scotland, Kirsty is at work, I'm sat in the lounge with a sleeping cat for company. As nice as it is I think I'd rather be sailing with Kirsty.