The Waxed Hulls

A morning of planting out with yesterday’s Homebase purchases, before beetling over to the boat (how good are topsides looking!) to attend to a niggling compass problem. I won’t go into details but after much investigation and disassembling, a leetil tiny screw which seals in some fluid managed to lose itself. Impossible, I know. It’s knackered anyway. 
So, should I, shouldn’t I? I had MrB with me at the yard and it was a lovely day and Tobias could surely do with a few quid, so after sanitising my hands, I ventured to the Dreadnought, keeping my distance of course. Who knew so many people were flouting the guidelines? Obviously my report up the line was treated as urgent; within half an hour Boris broadcast that all pubs were to close. Toby hushed the pub to make the announcement. And then scrambled to serve the rush. So, that’s that: no bars, restaurants and cafes. Sunak will pay whatever it takes. Lets hope covid20 isn’t along anytime soon.