Crew Handover Day

But first, into the Sea Lock at Clachnaharry, following Whisky Jack, a trimaran newly purchased in Essex. Next lock, the new owner, an experienced guy, tied on an additional fender while leaning on the quay to make room. In slow motion the boat moved out and out and too late he realised his predicament. Sploosh, in the drink he went. Aye, still learning.
So, tied up in Seaport Marina, I chummed MrW half way to town to pick up his bus. I mosied round Gael Force, picked up provisions and went and lay down in the back of the boat in the sunshine and fell asleep.
And then, it was 6pm and the new shift arrived. We tried to find a suitable eatery for MrT’s delicate palate but he was thwarted by a beguiling heilan lassie who tried to take him to somewhere called the Caledonian. Retracing our steps, he said, this looks good and waltzed into an establishment with sticky carpets. A ‘spoons!!! Use the app said the head gofor, poor fellow. What a boon. Seventeen minutes later we chased him and beers finally arrived. A rigmarole we had to repeat for the second pint.
Still, we ended our soirée in the Secret Garden which was open till 11pm! Unfortunately very little else is at that hour in Inverness, including taxis.

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