Spring

Ah, yes, spring. We emerge, blinking, into the sunlight like squirrels. Well, like a bear and a squirrel, anyway. Spring: when the fancy of the not-so-young man turns to string inspection and bottom-scraping. (So I believe, at any rate - it's a subject one hesitates to raise with any but the most open-minded of acquaintances.) Those of us who remain to be convinced of the merits of owning a boat when you can rent one (also piggy bank not yet heavy enough) are spared such concerns, but the lengthening days and the approach of a new season bring us work to do nonetheless.
As novices, we inevitably do most of our sailing in unfamiliar waters, so lots of chart-gazing and pre-emptive pilotage is done in the hope (not always realised) of avoiding frantic scrabbling for reading glasses and Frank Exchanges of Views when we actually get out on the water.
It has somehow transpired that ALL of our holiday plans for 2012 involve boats. This evidence of hitherto-unsuspected cunning on the part of the Skipper is somewhat disquieting, but at least now we know where we stand, and the Mate will not be caught napping this way again.
Since the end of last season, the Skipper has changed jobs and we have more-or-less moved to Belgium. This has occupied, and continues to occupy, huge amounts of management (= the Mate) time and energy. I believe Skipper has been quite busy too.

A new job can have unforeseen effects.

At any rate, moving countries has distracted us from missing sailing too much over the winter. Belgium has, of course, the advantage over Luxembourg in that it is not land-locked. The first stage of our investigation into the chances of a spot of bobbing about on the North Sea is to be a day trip to Ostende for a paddle and possibly even a half of Stella at one of the sailing clubs, should the natives prove to be friendly, just as soon as the weather gets a little warmer.
The Skipper's other project for 2012 is to get his body into shape, or rather into any shape other than spherical. So far this has involved the meticulous preparation of a BMI spreadsheet and, I concede, admirable restraint when it comes to seconds of rice or pasta. However, when I suggested cutting the grass yesterday, he quickly bagged the sit-on lawnmower, leaving the Mate to do the fiddly bits with the heavy old push-along variety. When we get on that boat in a few weeks' time, I think it will be my duty as a devoted spouse to take the helm as much as possible so as not to deprive my beloved of any opportunity to move nearer his goal. Or just to move, really. Possibly even his arms and legs at the same time.
We have just received in the post the pilot books for our next Folkboat expedition. Despite the havoc wreaked on our last visit to Rügen, it seems that the Schengen Agreement precludes any attempt by the German authorities to prevent a repeat performance. Or maybe the idea just appeals to their sense of humour. Just as I was beginning to get to grips with Dutch - don't let anyone tell you all Belgians speak French - I now need to plunge back into German and confuse myself all over again. The plan this year is to sail all the way round Rügen Island, quite ambitious in an 8m boat in a week, so we will have to be much better organised than last time.We have indeed booked a smarter boat (more teak, less PVC) which goes by the name of Haltlos. Un-restrained, the dictionary tells me, or possibly Reckless. I will reserve comment on that for when we actually get there.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. How much did I tell you about our forthcoming return to Brittany? It seems such a long time since my last post. Ah, yes the 60-mile passages. Well, we have pretty much worked out the route, and I have started on the pilotage plans. (My promotion to Navigator as well as Mate apparently makes this my job. Can't argue with the logic of that, but I'm beginning to wonder if I haven't made a terrible error by being such a domestic tyrant all these years.) However, I have actually negotiated a day off half-way through the week, so mustn't grumble. Might even be worth packing me cossie!
Suddenly, the sailing season seems to be rushing towards me at breakneck speed. Let's all have a Good One!