Price agreed – Subject to Inspection

On Saturday 22nd March we made an offer through Bill to Camelot’s owner in Nashville, Tennessee. After some haggling, our offer was accepted subject to an inspection for which she would be hauled out. The travel lift at Nanny Cay could do that on Tuesday. There was a South African family squatting on the boat in the one of fifteen slips that made up the total of marina berths there at that time. They were rather verbal about having to move off. An equally stroppy Yorkshireman called Eric who managed the marina collected our advance fees for the hoist and pressure wash.

In a hired Jeep we took Jethro over the mountainous hairpins roads to the beautiful beach at Cane Garden Bay. There were only a couple of bars on the beach there, one of which was called Stanley’s. In between swims and paddles we sat sipping rum punches and had cheeseburgers for lunch whilst Jethro alternated between lying in a hammock or swinging from a tyre hanging from a palm tree.

Cane Garden Bay

There were half a dozen yachts anchored off. What an idyllic spot. In less than three weeks since we had left England, we found it hard to believe we were about to join those fortunate people. Pelicans swooped down into the sea chasing shoals of fish. On the way back to Road Town we drove up steep dirt roads past the Rain Forest at Sage Mountain, spotting butterflies and humming birds and many huge trees we did not recognise.

On Monday morning Jon went into Barclays Bank at Wickhams Quay. There was very welcome air conditioning in the bank. A thoughtful pile of Daily Telegraph crosswords had been photocopied for customers to complete. He arranged to transfer sterling funds from home into a new checking account which would take a few days.

Bill Mackay had good news when we stepped over sleeping Napolean in his office at Nanny Cay.

“Hey Jon,” he began. “I’ve got the keys to a lock up at Prospect Reef. These are in the file. Let’s go take a look. I think the tender to Camelot is there, let’s see what else, huh?”

So leaving Warren and the sleeping dog Napolean in charge of the brokerage, we drove to Prospect Reef resort which had a splendid swimming pool and lots of cabin type accommodation. There was a small marina with docks and lock-up storage. Bill opened up. Inside was an upturned dinghy, half a dozen sail bags, coils of hemp rope, masses of other stuff.

Jethro was anxious to see the dinghy,

“Can we turn it over, daddy?” He said nodding with pleasure.

It was a pretty clinker built traditional dinghy with oar rowlocks and a centreboard. The transom was reinforced for an outboard. The dingy mast, lugsail, rudder, centreboard and oars were in good condition. The outboard motor was not.

Jon carried out his own survey

By Tuesday we were up early and dressed in working clothes. Jon was armed with his Swiss Army knife to test for rotten wood. At Nanny Cay the squatting South Africans were reluctantly removing all their gear from Camelot and trudging down the concrete dock. Jethro and I helped Jon and Bill to remove the overall awning and let in some daylight to the decks.

Whilst they continued to prepare the boat for the haul, Jethro and I walked down to the travel lift area where the driver, Keith, was adjusting the straps to raise a lovely 60 foot gaff cutter registered in Dartmouth. Tern VI was the name on the transom. The elderly English owners were Roger and Jill Fothergill. Jill and I chatted whilst their boat was lifted and trundled to the yard. They had been chartering between the BVI and Greece for twelve years – and they had no engine!

Bill used his own dinghy to tow Camelot from her slip with Jon steering at the aft wheel on the poop deck. At the travel lift, dock yard men adjusted the slings and slowly lifted her out stern first. Grumpy Eric, the marina manager, in his khaki shorts white plimsoles and crisp white shirt came over to watch proceedings. He said to me in his broadest Yorkshire:

“By gum Lass she’s a grand booort. I were thinking of buying her myself.”

Still in the slings, the pressure washing and scraping were done before she was slowly carried to a point in the yard just behind the cafe, shops and shower block. There she was chocked and supported with timbers whilst the travel lift retreated. A ladder was erected for us to climb aboard.

Camelot Hauled out at Nanny Cay

We started by removing as much stuff as possible from the hatches, cupboards and storage lockers onto the decks. Thus Jon could inspect thoroughly with his trusty knife. He found some rot in the marine ply bulkheads and one port side deck beam in the aft head. All sixteen sea cocks were completely corroded. The anchor chain was a conical pile of rust. There were two toilets , or as they are known in nautical terms “heads” on board, both of which were in good working order.

We found lots of paperwork by the navigation table relating to the boat. There were many useful tools on board but the best thing from my point of view was the splendid aft cabin. I could imagine making new cushions and covers.

We found cross section and plan views of Camelot amongst the paperwork

In the shade of the hull Jon carried on his ‘survey’. The huge bronze three bladed propellor was sound. All the sacrificial plates needed replacing. The rudder was surprisingly good. Various experts sidled over to offer advice. The engine would have to be craned out for overhaul. The water tanks and fuel tanks might need to be replaced. Roger Fothergill came over to say ,

“I shall listen to the UK budget on the BBC and let you know if the exchange rates will be affected.”

Every decimal place meant $250 to us. That day there were $2.4 US dollars to £1 sterling.

On Thursday 27th March, just three weeks after we had left Norfolk we paid Bill Mackay for Camelot, hired a VW beetle for one month and checked out of our little bunk room at Village Cay We drew out some cash to go grocery shopping and buy cleaning materials. At the Ample Hamper a huge cockroach jumped off the can of V8 I was buying and I screeched in horror. The proprietor just smiled benignly and shrugged his shoulders. When we returned to Camelot in the yard to move on board, Jethro announced “I never thought I’d live in a house with windscreen wipers!”

Nanny cay in 1980 before expansion