In declining health, overworked, and living in the cold, damp north, one winter evening David has one of those Eureka! moments that most people experience at some time in their lives. His is: qWhy don't we sell up and sail away to a better climate?q 'Living on a boat is cheap compared to a house, ' he tells wife Sandra, 'and the difference to our health would be enormous.' One problem for Sandra is that it isn't that cheap, and with the retirement pension still light-years away, she has visions of ending her days a bag lady. Another problem is that she qhatesq sailing. But things have a habit of working out, and qDolphins Under My Bedq charts their 2, 000-mile voyage on a forty-foot sailing catamaran from England to the Channel Islands, down the Atlantic coasts of France, Spain, and Portugal to Gibraltar, and into the warm waters of the Mediterranean. Conditions are sometimes maddening, occasionally dangerous, and often magical. Marine creatures enchant their days, while ships that pass in the night add a touch of romance-just so long as they do actually pass. It's the ones that make a sharp left turn across their bows that are the big worry. But it is the people of the host countries-many of whom share little or no language with this linguistically challenged couple-whose kindness and courtesy light up these pages. qDolphins Under My Bedq is an entertaining, humorous, and thoughtful book by someone who finds herself in places and situations where she never expected to be. No previous experience of sailing is required to enjoy it.One of our two bottles of propane gas, which we use for cooking, refrigeration and hot water, runs out so we decide to amble over to the service station ... Already the ramp leading from our pontoon up onto the quay is getting quite steep.
|Title||:||Dolphins Under My Bed|
|Publisher||:||Sandra Clayton - 2008-01-01|