There is a great big gaping hole in the floor of my cabin and while cleaning up today I went down it. I leterally droped through the floor as if it were a trap door leaving me sloshing about in fowl water thinking that was lucky, nothing hurts save for a nick on my ankle.
I have been waiting for the fuel tank now for two weeks and it is still not ready. I have lost track of how much time I have spent in the old boatyard but I have started to branch out focusing on other concerns like fielding replies to my internet adds for a crewmate, a little boat maintenance, there is always something to do ,and of course my photography.
I am not exactly shure of the results from my expedition yesterday. I'll let you be the judge. I think I was trying too hard to add something to the old banana bread diaries but who cares it is nice to work with ones artistic aspirations/pretensions fully switched on. The best shots are not mine!
I find photographing cities quite difficult. It is hard not to make everything disjointed and fragmentary. By their very nature they lack a certain form when you are in them other than the arcade created by the buildings aligned along the streets. Hard to photograph when you are yourself pounding the pavement. I spent the day kitted out with a pair of sandels a €2.00 pair of light long trousers, a tshirt, a backpack and my geek wear, a mobile phone holster and camera bag for the belt. If you are wondering, the link for the image stack is the photograph above. That picture I took from a book about Santa Cruz in 1906. The town has certainly grown, in fact with a population of around 300,000 it looks and feels like a city.
As for the fuel tank, there is no prospect of getting out of here until the 19th. I am leaving behind everything for a week: the boatyard, the city and solitude for Fuerteventura. I actually dreamt of the engine starting last night.