IT took us two years. Two years! Two years clambering in and out of other people’s lives, good times and bloody awful times, frustration then reward.
She is named Sea Guide and, before I tell you about our search I have to tell you about our boat, which is hard to comprehend if, like me, you have only ever lived in a house before.
It is smaller than a house, bigger than a campervan but not as big as a house bus. It has two sticks, a sail wardrobe and interconnecting living/dining/galley/deck zones. The paintwork was perfect, not even a scratch, which we have since rectified.
Capt. Hunk thinks the two-burner stove with its tiny oven is dinky and the fridge marvellous. “Look,” he comments, “it holds four boxes of…
