Family, friends, fun and farewell...

Daniel and Becky were here for a little over a fortnight; they arrived on a Friday night, and departed last night. We heard a couple of hours ago that they are, at last, safely back in Carlisle. Having visitors staying is always good, but of course we particularly love having either of our sons home; for Daniel, this was his first visit since he and Becky got married last year.

I already wrote about their first few days in Cyprus, and about our visit to Nicosia. But, as so often happens, time started to go faster and faster and suddenly the two weeks had vanished. I didn't even remember to take many photos - much of the time we were hanging out, chatting, or playing games. We watched a few episodes of Doctor Who (series 2) which we enjoyed, and we also watched DVDs of both Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (Chronicles of Narnia 2 and 3 respectively) which we had not seen before. 

Daniel wrote a post about their time here on his blog too. 

We played a couple of games of Seafarers of Catan (Fog Island), something Richard and I only rarely play on our own as it requires quite a bit of setup. Becky said she had never won a Seafarers game; it turned out that she'd only played it once or twice, but she managed to win the first game we played together during the past couple of weeks:  

Naturally we played a couple of Settlers games with our friends Jörn and Sheila too, at their house, one of them on a particularly cold evening where we wrapped up warmly... and Becky won: 

We even managed a five-player Settlers game with Tim on Facetime (similar to Skype): 

We had a microphone set up over the middle of the board, with the stand carefully balanced by a low-tech coolbag: 

We played a Cities and Knights game, too, which had such an interesting initial setup that I took photos and wrote about it on my Settlers blog, but didn't take any pictures of the people concerned. 

We wondered how the cats would cope with Daniel and Becky staying downstairs in our guest flat; somehow, it didn't seem to worry them. We're not sure they even really noticed, as they continued sleeping on us at nights. But they were all happy to see Dan and Becky whenever they appeared in the morning. Here's Tessie looking at some of their wedding photos with them: 

Daniel, who is something of a coffee geek, decided that, while he was in Cyprus, he would buy a little pan for making Cyprus coffee. Not something I like at all, but Daniel is quite keen on what's known as a 'medrio' - one spoonful of finely ground coffee, and one of sugar, brought to the boil slowly: 

The first time he did it, I was fascinated by seeing the bubbles around the edge (an important part of making Cyprus coffee) which formed an almost perfect square around the middle. But when I took these photos, they made something closer to a pentagon: 

The first few times Daniel made a medrio, he used some small cups we happened to have. But I went to the Thrift Shop on Saturday, when he and Becky were out sailing with Richard, and saw some quite tasteful little Cyprus coffee cups and saucers which were very inexpensive. I also saw several less-than-tasteful ones... but decided that Daniel would not appreciate those.

This really doesn't show the scale, but is what the little cup looks like: 

Here it is with the medrio inside, and the saucer below: 

And here is Daniel, waiting for the coffee to cool a little. Note the glass of water, an important adjunct to Cyprus coffee: 

These photos show better just how tiny the cup is.  Sophia joined him while he drank it: 

Becky wasn't feeling great on Sunday, and Daniel wasn't too well on Monday, which was their last day in Cyprus. However, they wanted another game, so we set up Seafarers (Fog Island again) once more:

Here's how it started: 

Daniel won that game - just ahead of me. Either Daniel or Becky has won most of the games we've played while they've been here! 

But, as the cliche goes, all good things must eventually come to an end. After the game, we ate an early evening meal, then took them to the airport. Being actors, they decided to pose for the camera: 

Happily, they let me take a nicer photo as well: 

We drove home feeling a little empty. We don't know when we'll next see Dan and Becky; of course it's great to keep in touch with email and Skype (or equivalent) but there's nothing quite like having people actually here. Living in Cyprus, there are a lot of goodbyes, and they only get a little easier with time.

Not sailing into the sunset...

Although it's almost two years since Richard has been part-owner of the yacht King Malu, and a year since they started sea-trials, I have never been out sailing in her. This is because I don't do well in sunshine or heat... and they generally don't sail when there is no sunshine, because it tends to mean that the waves are choppy and the wind high. I did go on board in January, for a meal, and was quite prepared to be taken for a short sail... but it was too windy.

So when, about a week ago, Richard said they wondered if I would like to go for a sunset sail some time, I thought it sounded a good idea. Sunset is around 7.30pm, as it's totally dark by 8.00pm now, and the weather is mostly calm.

Then he said we would eat a meal on board - but I didn't have to provide any of it. So that was good. Then I learned that it wasn't going to be a sail at all, but a gentle motor for maybe ten minutes. Hmm. After much discussion, it was decided to meet at the marina at 6.00pm on Thursday. I'm glad I took a hat since it was still quite hot and sunny by then, and the 'bimini' (sunshade) no use at all since the sun was low enough to avoid it.

So, after a slight hiatus when the boat was blown into the one next-door, we set off. The sea was rather choppy and it worried me how much the boat seemed to be rocking, but Richard said it was fine. I was more disturbed by the sun on the back of my head than I was by the waves. And by around 7.00 was more than ready to stop and have something to eat - which was roast chicken from the 'New York' take-away and some excellent salad.

Tim had made some chocolate brownies:


After we'd eaten them, Erika and Lauren sat with their feet up:


I suddenly noticed that the sun was indeed starting to set, so thought I'd better take a photo since that was, after all, what we had come to see:


The camera is automatic, so it wasn't actually as dark as it looked in that picture. Tim P (the main owner of the boat) decided it was time to go back so he went to the front of it:


And Richard took the wheel:


I managed to catch another picture of the sun just before it disappeared over the horizon, although it wasn't fully dark for another fifteen minutes or so:


So I still haven't been sailing on King Malu. Going on board a couple of times a year seems reasonable enough, though... but I preferred it in January when it was decidedly less hot.

A large box arrived...

I was upstairs mopping the floors mid-morning today, when the doorbell rang.

I wasn't expecting anyone, I hurried down the stairs to open it, hoping I didn't look too hot and dishevelled! Perhaps, I thought, it was someone coming to borrow books. Or, as often happens, somebody looking for someone I'd never heard of.

It was a young man, with a clipboard. He asked if Richard lives here. I said that he does, and a slight look of resignation passed over the guy's face. 'I get box', he said with a sigh, and went down our outside staircase to the street.

I didn't think we were expecting any boxes, but waited at the door. When the young man appeared again, I could see why he checked first that it was the correct house, before bringing the parcel up. He struggled to balance it in his arms as he came up again, and it was evidently not light. He put it down in some relief just inside our front door, and I signed for it.

I glanced at the label, which was indeed addressed to Richard. From, as far as I could gather, somewhere in Italy.

At last!

It's the mock-up of the engine for King Malu, something which he and his sailing buddy have been waiting for for over a year now.

I didn't attempt to move it. It's really quite big:


Cleo, who has always loved cardboard boxes, investigated immediately and quickly realised that she couldn't get inside. But she likes sitting on top of things too. And, by Cleo standards, seems very relaxed and comfortable:


I'm not entirely sure how she'll feel when the box is taken to the boat... but I can't say it adds to the ambience of the room to have a large and rather ugly cardboard box there, even if Cleo has taken to it in a big way.

Epiphany in Cyprus

Epiphany is quite a big deal in Cyprus. The population is mainly Greek Orthodox, but they don't celebrate Christmas today (unlike the Coptic Orthodox). However, it's yet another public holiday. Schools don't start again until next Monday, and most businesses and shops were closed today, other than the tourist ones.

A big tradition in Larnaka is that a large cross is thrown into the sea during the morning, and then several young men dive to try and retrieve it. In a slightly odd mixture of religious fervour and superstition, it's done after a ceremony by priests, and whoever finds it is supposed to have good luck for the rest of the year. We went to watch this ceremony once, many years ago, but it wasn't interesting enough to go again. At least it was warm today, and the sea isn't as chilly as it can sometimes be at this time of year.

Anyway, as it was a day off work, Richard and his sailing friend Tim decided that it would be a good day for their respective families to have a picnic on King Malu, recently returned to the water after her short dry-dock period. I had not been on her in the water at all, but, I was assured, the gangplank was complete, and the boat - despite an outboard at the back - able to be reversed into the berth so long as there wasn't too much wind.

They had thought about going out for a gentle sail today, but there wasn't any wind at all expected. So they went down at 8.30, hoping to get there before the traffic around the sea-front became impossible (due to the Epiphany ceremony), to turn the boat around to make it easier to get on and off.

Late morning, Tim's daughters arrived to collect me, and while it might have been quicker to walk, given the amount of traffic around the Larnaka marina, we reached King Malu eventually. She was, indeed, reversed into place:


And while the gangplank was a little scary, I made it to the boat. Here's the evidence - all four of us who were persuaded to join the guys:


Unfortunately the very slight motion of the boat from side to side was actually more disturbing to my insides than I've ever before noticed on any kind of boat. However, we were given halloumi and tomato rolls (very good they were too) and I felt better for eating.

Here's Richard's description of the morning, including details about manoevering King Malu around to make this possible.

We only stayed a little over an hour. Rather dark grey clouds were coming in overhead, and we didn't want to be caught in more rain.

We had to drive back along the sea-front... and to my surprise (having not ventured into town on Epiphany for some years) there were stalls and booths up right along. I suppose it's another chance to make money, catching tourists who aren't used to euros, and will happily buy junk while on holiday:

King Malu is now in the water at Larnaka marina

Although Tuesday was a slightly frustrating day, with King Malu unable, at the last moment, to go in the cradle, it all worked out well yesterday. We're not at all sure how the boat did get in the cradle... Richard and Tim arrived there about 10am to find she was already there. But there was no sign of the next-door boat having been moved at all.


Shortly before 2pm Tim's wife came to collect me, so we, and Tim's mother, could go to watch the launch. At least, we hoped that's what would happen... we got to the marina to learn that (a) the tow-boat was out of the water, having repairs, so Tim had had to borrow a friend's motor boat and (b) another large boat was waiting to come out of the water, so rather in the way... but these minor considerations were soon solved, and at last the crane started its ponderous path to the launching place.


I suppose it was around 3pm by the time she was finally lowered into the water:


By that stage, I was on the video camera since Richard was in King Malu. So I filmed her being towed away by Tim on his friend's motor boat, then rushed around to the place where she would be taken. Part-way there, I noticed that she was sailing across a patch of water in the harbour, so I stopped for a quick photo:


.. and got to the new place just after she arrived. She still had to be brought in, carefully, so as not to bump into the neighbouring boats.


Richard has written a great deal more about King Malu's launch on his blog, and linked to almost ten minutes of video, if you want to see how it all happened.

The day that King Malu did not, after all, go in the cradle...

I must preface this post by stating that Cyprus is a wonderful place. The people are great, and in many ways it's an ideal place to live. Even this winter has been remarkably mild, at least so far.

But one has to learn that in some things Cyprus simply doesn't operate like mainland Europe. People are not good with times, for instance. We - and they - joke that two o'clock 'Cyprus time' is really anything from two thirty onwards. If someone wants us to arrive somewhere between ten and eleven, they might say 'Oh, about ten o'clock Cyprus time'.

King Malu, the boat in which Richard was given a share, and on which he has been working extremely hard for the past few weeks, was looking very smart, ready for being moved into the water on January 13th. Tomorrow, in fact. There's still plenty of work to do inside, so she probably won't actually be sailed until March or even April, but the underneath is all now painted and sealed, and ready for launch.


Other than the very bottom - the tiny strip of the bit sticking out underneath (which I am reliably informed is the keel) that is actually touching the ground. While the boat is still standing with those props, it can't be painted. So Richard spoke to the people who operate the crane that moves the boats in and out of the water. No problem, they said. Today - Tuesday - they would bring the crane when they had finished their other jobs for the day, and lift King Malu into the cradle. Then Richard and Tim could do the necessary sanding, priming, painting and anti-fouling at two-hour intervals in the evening and/or early Wednesday morning, and they'd move her into the water around 9am (Cyprus time) tomorrow. It would cost more, of course, but seemed worth doing.

Richard thought the move into the cradle would be around 5pm. Then, when he popped down to the marina this morning, they said 2pm. So after lunch, since the day was overcast, I accompanied him down to the marina. We wandered around for a while and learned that the crane-moving people weren't going to be around until 2.30. We weren't surprised.. so we went for a walk to find out why my phone was refusing to send texts. We were assisted by a very helpful man at the MTN shop who fixed the problem in about five seconds, and got back to the marina around 2.30. No sign of the crane-moving people, so we sat down for a while.

Around 2.45, we saw the crane start to move. Was it coming our way? Apparently not, since it moved instead towards the place where boats go in and out of the water. Perhaps another job had come up. Richard went to ask - no, apparently they needed to put some extra bars in the crane, and it was then coming to King Malu.

About twenty minutes later, the crane started on its way again. It stopped temporarily when a car was in the way, and for a bit longer to fill up with diesel. But at last we could see it coming down the little aisle where King Malu has been sitting for the past eight years. Richard started filming with the video camera.


It wasn't long before the crane was in position to turn around, and then move slowly in alongside the boat. So we moved to the back of King Malu, to photograph and shoot its careful progress:


The crane moved very carefully - which is a good thing, of course. It got to about half way. And then it stopped.


The men got out, and started gesturing, and walking around. We could see it was a very tight fit to get it in place. The boat on one side is not centrally placed in its parking slot, and the crane was perhaps an inch away:


On the other side is a large lamppost, which may even have been put there in the past eight years, since King Malu arrived:


Could the crane be angled carefully? No, they had already tried that. The man in charge of the crane said he really didn't care about the lamppost. That could be knocked down. But the base of it is made of concrete, and if the wheels of the crane went over that, the whole thing would tilt to the side and probably damage the boat on the other side.

Here's the video Richard made of events to date, with annotations:



It's a good thing they care so much about the boats. But it meant that there was no way that King Malu could go in the cradle tonight. The crane operator said that he would get in contact with the boat next door, since they would have to move it further away, and so it can't be done until tomorrow.

So the plan is now that, around 10am (Cyprus time) they will first move the nearby boat a few inches further away, then they'll put King Malu in the cradle. Richard and Tim can then prime and anti-foul the base (apparently the epoxy layer isn't so vital) with a couple of hours gap between, and she can then be put in the water at some point in the afternoon.

Perhaps.