

All the doubts started to flow, remembering everyone who had 'warned' me that I may not be prepared to take on such a challenge. Perhaps they were right, I was not being sensible, living on a boat with no place to keep her, and having no clue how to dock her by myself.
Simon, a co-worker of mine, was completely understanding of my situation, having lived on a wooden ketch of his own in England some years ago. That day, after giving me a hand moving the boat to an alternate wharf, he assured me it would only be a matter of time, and I would get a better handle on things.
And that was true. The day eventually came when I had to leave the dock on my own. I cast off all but 2 lines, considered the wind and tide, and having the engine ready and the helm in place, I ran forward to cast off the bowline. I then proceeded aft to cast off the stern line. Then, turning around, there was the bow, stuck between the pilings of the dock! Oh dear... but, how important is that? Well, my boat is not sinking now, is it? Not even close... so what's the worry? I can learn by trial and error, and a bit of missing paint from the hull or a blob of tar donated from the wharf will not offend her too much, and I've gotten the impression that it's her distinguished choice to be patient with me. She wants to go all the places I want to as well. A few bumps and bruises to show her a world she, or myself, have never knows, are easily looked after with painted band-aids!

And that inspiration, from whatever source, is what gets you through the seemingly hopeless times. Simon had a few other words that day I have not forgotten, and they

Get out of the way for those who are doing it!