Nick Burnham: The trip back downriver, replete and relaxed following a Sunday roast, was one of those experiences that none of us wanted to end.
Sometimes I think the weather is just seeing how far it can push me toward thinking the unthinkable (selling the boat), before reminding me why I never actually will. August was a weather write off and September was full of crazy boatshowness. Cannes was the second week, Southampton the week after and Monaco the week after that, so thoughts of boating were banished as the month flew by in a blizzard of flights, hotels, filming, editing and scheduling. By the time the dust settled, the boat had barely moved for two months. October was mostly taken up with the Fort Lauderdale show, November was cold and drab. And then, in December, the weather decided to give us some of what we were supposed to have had in August, if it hadn’t have been for Global Warmi…err, Climate Change, and gave us two brilliant days of sunshine. It took everyone by surprise, which is why my usual playmates were all committed elsewhere, much to their frustration. By contrast, with everything boat show-shaped squared away, for me it was a case of putting a bit of lunch together and going.
First job was to re-inflate the tender, which was sagging forlornly on its snap davits. The boat also needed a good clean, but that could wait. Covers off, engine started (first turn of the key), lines slipped and I was away, bobbing gently downstream past Dartmouth and heading for open sea with a small flotilla of other vessels with the same idea. It was a little breezy once outside the river but the wind was offshore so it made sense to
