Thursday 1 June

Thurs 1 June

Up early and of to ferry the final stuff out to the boat, having taken the food on board yesterday. I’m clutching a black plastic sack of electronic stuff – mobile, camera and various accessories. I’m desperate it shouldn’t get as wet as I did yesterday. ‘You’re a good sport’, J had said approvingly. Today, I’m in my knickers – panties – and stay dry.

Fortune, the boat, is 36 feet long, and very well equipped – radar, GPS (position finding), hundreds of charts. J’s a navigation nut and keen on safety. I’ll give this thing a go.

We waved goodbye to Dell, who I hope was watching from a window, got fuel and water from a nearby yacht club, and motored down the near-windless, sunny Narragansett Bay, past the islands of Prudence, Patience and Hope, and the Rocks of Despair. A Puritan pinched sense of humour?

By the time we reach the Newport-Jamestown Bridge, we are overtaken by mist, and then fog. The bridge is sounding its foghorn, sounding like a police siren. We anchor in a bay by the bridge. At night, when the fog has gone, the bridge is lit up with catenaries of fairy lights.