Living aboard in boatyardsorange specks all over our lovingly-painted white topsides. It pays to know who your neighbours will be. Neighbours also provide you with
something interesting to watch. At the time of writing, the man next door is repairing his keel after hitting the boulder bank trying to get ahead on race night.
He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. Opposite is a fishing boat so rusty it will surely never go to sea again. Its owners seem to gently hack at the rust until
opening time, when they disappear. our laundry on the lifelines at dusk, away There’s an eerie silence as I peg out
from dust and public view. I bring it in next morning at 7.30, as the boatyard workers arrive and the day’s work begins: banging, drilling and grinding.
We, up our ladder, eat breakfast then lower buckets of dirty dishwashing water to pour down the drains. The travel hoist rumbles by, bleeping its
warning like a giant version of the arcade game ‘The Claw’, collecting the neighbour’s repaired boat to be relaunched, ready for the next race.
nearer, I make use of luxurious tap water to scrub the shade cloth awning. I utilise Conscious that our turn is drawingCobalt, the Hunts’ 55ft kauri Warwick, at anchorABOVE LEFTonly way is up (or down)... Anthony living The
the high life, January 2015the shore power to machine-sew new canvas hatch covers. Meanwhile, Anthony shows Dave Pinker, the local CAT 1 inspector, the hull for the out-of-
water survey. Owning a New Zealand-registered vessel, we are obliged to have this inspection every time we plan to sail offshore. It’s a burden, but it
does concentrate the mind somewhat.will give the whole boat a thorough lathering with that well-used hose before After a week of wearisome work, we
‘The Claw’ bleeps its way over to us. Although we’ll look grey and exhausted, the boat will sparkle as Pete the travel hoist operator lowers us carefully down
to sea level, back to the type of ‘high life’ our friends imagine.ABOVEcomes to fetch us for relaunch ‘The Claw’