Raggy Doll - Tuesday 20th June - And where exactly did you hide the baby?

The day started well, the hotel was simple and comfortable, the meal last night was fish and served with a local white wine, we started to believe we were moving forward. Perhaps at this point we should have become slightly suspicious, it was all going a little too smoothly.
We checked out from the hotel and made our way the 200 meters across the road to the
Monte Real Club de Yates, the local yacht club. Of course we went by taxi, the only way to travel when your bags weigh a ton, this amused the taxi driver but not Andrew as he was given the embarrassing task of explaining to the driver why we needed a taxi for such a short distance, it was only when we found the Spanish word for heavy that the driver finally understood and was more than happy to take the euros. We happened to bump into Stuart from yacht Khaleesi, apparently when they had set sail the previous morning for Povoa de Varzim they had encountered some engine problems and had to be towed back by A'r mor dirion, a catamaran that was also on the rally, so like us he was behind the rest, Stuart was just about to leave for Porto to catch the rally up and we planned to do the same when Raggy Doll arrived. We bid him a fond farewell, fast and safe trip and said we would see him later. Little did we know........
We had been following Raggy Doll on the tracker link the yacht delivery company had provided for us, so we knew precisely the moment that she would appear, it was "emotional" seeing our yacht being sailed in by people who were strangers to us and we were looking forward to being reunited and getting on our way as soon as possible. It was 1330 Spanish time when they moored up on the fuel pontoon. If we could fill up and do checks in an hour it put the chances of catching the rally within our grasp. We knew it would be a long sail but we would gain an hour, as Portuguese time is the same as uk.
Andrew went down to meet the delivery crew, AJ and I stayed at the yacht club and drank more water, and waited for the text to say 'come on down'. It didn't come, we waited and waited, finally Andrew came back up to us and gave us the joyous news that 'someone' had flushed a wet wipe down the heads! Now, for those non sailing people, who may or may not be reading this, the heads are the toilets, some are manual and have to be pump flushed and some are electric and have a macerator, ours are pump flush. They both work in pretty much the same way as caravan and camper toilets; the rule is you must NEVER, EVER, put anything other than human waste and small amounts of toilet paper down the pan or there is serious chance of blocking the whole system. At this point I guess some of you are are way ahead and know what's coming next and yes you'd be right. The heads were blocked and Raggy Doll wasn't going anywhere until they were fixed. This is usually a relatively simple task of unscrewing the pump and clearing the blockage from the un-aptly named joker valve, trust me, there is nothing remotely funny about it. Our rule on board is 'you block it, you fix it'.
The delivery crew consisted of 3 members, 2 professionals, Francesco and Michel-Angelo, who, as the name suggests were both Italian. Then there was Billy, a student from Plymouth university who got paid nothing and was there to mile build. It would be very unprofessional of me to disclose who was responsible for the misdemeanour, but the song Billy don't be a hero, just keeps reverberating around my brain like some tortuous little demon.
So three and a half hours, 5 bottles of water each for AJ and I and various Anglo Saxon words later, there was no way we were going anywhere today.
Billy, as the novice had no idea on dismantling heads, so this joyous task was taken on by Francesco and Michel-Angelo with Billy looking on. The wipe, as it turned out, was not stuck in the easy option of the joker valve, but somewhere in the pipework, they had to take practically the whole system apart piece by piece, employing various tactics, including water, wire, industrial wet vacuum cleaner, drill etc etc etc. We had also been made aware that the engine had a water leak and the rigging that held up the lazy jacks (Sail bag) had also snapped.
Finally they were convinced it was clear and they and Andrew joined AJ and I for a very well earned drink, at this point AJ and I crumbled and turned water into wine!
After a few jokes, mainly at Billy's expense, we thanked them and bid farewell, us to Raggy Doll and the crew to a hotel.
AJ tested the offending heads, only to find out to her horror that they still weren't working properly. The three of us took on the task of filling emptying, pumping again and again and again, Andrew ended up, in his words "sweating like a navy stoker". We reckon we managed to free a further 3 wet wipes, Francesco confirmed by text that Billy had raised his claim by one wet wipe to two wet wipes, we on return were able to raise it by another one to at least three, so a bit like when the doctor asks "and how many units do you drink?" Billy had been very economical with the truth!!!
We ate out again in another local restaurant and drank our daily allowance of 1 unit or was it 2 maybe 3.
I'm pretty sure when Billy regales the story to his friends of his wonderful Biscay crossing he will suffer with a total lapse of recall when it comes to the wet wipes, I am also certain that he learned a valuable lesson. Silly Billy.

Sally Dolden