Iím sitting on the ferry, Emeraudís Solidor 3, right now heading over to St. Malo. Iíd gathered together so much stuff to go back to the yacht that it was going to be a serious hassle getting trains & ferries so I bought a five day return for the BMW & myself & decided to take it over. Apparently Autohelm sent a complete replacement set of ST80 instruments over to the island an hour after I left, so Iím going to change them over with the set on board & then bring the old set back with me.

Unfortunately thereís always loads of kids around when I get ferries & they always seem to end up sitting near me. One of them seems to be unconscious with seasickness at the moment, and whereís she sitting? Yeah, behind me!

Last night I met up with Chris after he finished work, in Christies. He sat down and unable to resist his ìjust when I have a drinkî cigarette, he had to visit the vending machine. We have our Club sandwiches (would we change?) & a couple of beers, then head back to the boat that Iím staying on, Chris giving me a lift part of the way on the back of his bike.

We start playing Diablo, which is really quite scary in the dark, then Chris heads off back to Beaucette. Iím just switching off the laptop when I hear voices. Itís after midnight, the marinaís normally empty at night & I really shouldnít be living there! I kill the lights & listen. They seem to have gone, so I have a look out the port. Suddenly I see two harbour patrol officers walking quickly along the quay! Thereís a full moon outside, so I can see them clearly, I watch, & they come down the ramp to pontoon F. Ahh! How did they know that Iím here? Did they see a light on? Did they see Chris leave? Theyíre obviously going to think that Iíve broken in & I canít say that Peter said I could sleep here, so what do I do? I strip down to my boxer shorts as quickly as I can & dive into my sleeping bag. I lie there knowing that thereís every chance I could get arrested here, & hope they donít come over to the boat. No luck! Maglites get shone in all the windows, & they jump up onto the deck. Thereís no way of locking the companionway & I know they can come in. ìLooks like theyíve goneî, I hear one of them say, but they carry on looking & trying to open the boat up. ìHarbour Patrolî, they shout, ìAnyone inî. At this point I know that if I donít answer them & they find me inside they wonít believe any story I tell them, so I get up in my boxer shorts, trying to look like theyíve just woken me up, & say,
ìYeah?î
ìIs this your boat, sir?î
ìNo itís not, Iím delivering it to the mainland first thing in the morning and Iíve just been getting it sorted up for the trip.î
ìWho are you doing the delivery for?î
ìCastlemain. Peter Pearson, do you want his home number?î
So, they eventually go, & I breathe a sigh of relief. I talked to Peter this morning & apparently they called him & werenít happy at all.