Choosing a career - Part 3

My parents had returned to the UK in 1977, the year before I did, and my Dad said he was "semi-retired" at 51. They bought a small village grocery store in Norfolk, and my sister joined them, and they kept on a lady who had worked for the previous owners for many years so knew the ropes, and all the local customers! I don't think any of them imagined how hard running a village shop was, but everyone seemed to enjoy it - this was in the days before Sunday trading was prevalent, so it was only a 6-day a week job, though they all git an extra day off in the week (but Dad generally worked through most of his!).
The plan was that upon my return I would help out, while looking for a job in accountancy, though I soon realised that they really needed my help - Dad was the only driver back then, so had to do the weekly "cash and carry" runs on Monday, as well as the twice-weekly runs to the bank. The business was growing apace, mainly due to the fact that we were novices, so had no preconceptions, and provided the sort of service that we would have expected as customers - and it paid dividends! With 4 "partners" the business still was not really generating enough profit for all of us (Mum, Dad, my sister and me), despite the fact that we all lived in the attached house above/behind the shop. 
I started putting out feelers, and had a few interviews, but soon realised a huge problem that I had not foreseen - in the UK manual accounts was a thing of the past, and my lack of computerised accounting experience was a huge issue! Time and again my lack of knowledge in that field was the stumbling block, and even though I was pitching for jobs well below my experience in other areas, I was being turned down - even for "starter" jobs, as I was "too old" - at 25!
The shop was actually a double-fronted one (it was a converted semi-detached house) and the other half we rented out to a hairdresser, and when she decided move on we looked for ways we could utilise that second shop to our advantage. Initially Dad was keen on a mini garden centre - he always had green fingers - but one of our grocery supply reps suggested a bakery! There was a national bread strike on at the time, and he serviced a couple of small bakeries and said they were doing extremely well. We all fell about laughing as we had no baking history in the family, but the idea caught on - it would complement the grocery business, and also provide a draw to a new customer base. I was tasked with doing some research - a feasibility study, if you like! Eventually I found a local bakery where they would "teach" me the ropes and after only two nights decided that we could make a success of it! To cut a long story short here is the link to that Opening a bakery which we opened in 1979, and traded very successfully alongside the grocery business, increasing shop turnover by an additional pound for every pound value of bread we sold as customers came for bakery goods, and bought other things in the shop!
My change in career direction from aspiring accountant to baker had been seamless, I really enjoyed baking - it was very satisfying to create something from raw materials rather than just being a small cog somewhere along a process! I did leave the family business briefly (for around 6 months) in 1982 for personal reasons, and got a job with a large UK supermarket chain as a trainee bakery manager - they used small-scale industrial processes, with machines doing most of the "manual" work, and with chemical additives to speed up the processing time, resulting in, at that time, a product that could not really be called "bread"! However I did return to the family business, and started developing the bakery side further, increasing our  confectionery range.
In 1986 Dad decided to retire - he had turned 60 and discovered that he was no longer liable for capital gains tax on the sale of the business - and we (my sister and I) realised that we could not realistically keep the business going with just the two of us, if we lost half our labour force, as the cost of replacing both our parents' work contributions would be unsustainable, especially as they needed to withdraw capital also (so effectively we would have had to buy them out!) to buy a house to retire to. So the business was put up for sale. It did not take that long to find a buyer, either, and as part of the deal I agreed to stay on for up to 6 months to help with the transition (as he also had no prior grocery or bakery experience!)
Despite trying to convince the new owner that he, or a family member, should be the main baker - the most "expensive" job - he immediately started looking to employ a bakery manager (after offering it to me first!), who was being paid more than a partner's share had been under our ownership! He made quite a few more changes to the way the grocery business was run, too, most of which had a detrimental effect on customers, as prices started rising considerably. By the end of my 6 month "transition" I was pleased to be moving on, and embarked on another change of career - this time into engineering!!

Choosing a career - Part 2

That first year of accountancy in Beira, Mozambique, was awesome - the work was interesting (I know that accountancy has a reputation for being boring, but not to those who work in that field!), and I got to visit some amazing places as part of the job. We used to fly to clients in distant parts of the country, all expenses paid, including an "out of town" allowance (which paid for drinks!!), though we had to work long hours - often finishing after 22.00, returning to work after our dinner - to minimise the amount of time we were away, and always flying back home for the weekends.
At the end of that year I managed to get a transfer to our Johannesburg, South Africa, office. Independence was looming in Mozambique and an uncertain future, so I requested a transfer and set off on a new adventure. Johannesburg was, however, for an "outsider" a nightmare place to live. I knew no-one, and though the work was still interesting, I felt incredibly lonely - more so than I have ever felt in my life, before or since. Our firm was taken over by a larger firm of accountants, and we all were feeling a bit lost in the new organisation. Some of our senior staff members were "demoted" to semi-senior (each team consisted of a senior (a qualified accountant), a semi-senior (often time served but not yet qualified), and a junior (still in articles), but the team I was allocated was headed by an office manager (our senior, who only occasionally came on the audits), Vincent, who was time served and waiting to take his final exams, and me. It meant that Vincent and I were often the only two at the client's premises, so Vincent was doing the "senior" role, and I was doing a combination of "junior" and "semi-senior", despite my relatively novice status in terms of time served. I was more than up to the task, and was treated almost like an equal, even when Bill, our team leader, did turn up! It did mean that I was learning far more quickly than my peers, and proving my abilities.
I still hated living in Johannesburg, though, and towards the end of that year put in for a transfer to our offices in Durban. I had spent my university years in Pietermaritzburg, some 45 miles from Durban, and still had many friends there, so felt that the move would be good for me. Two days after my request was submitted, Bill - my team leader and one of the office managers - called me in and told me he had denied the request - he felt that I had so much potential that Johannesburg was a better place for me, than a "provincial" city like Durban. I was extremely flattered, especially as Bill was dry-humoured Scotsman not given to lavishing praise on anyone, but I explained that I was unhappy living in Johannesburg, and that I just felt I could not remain there, so would probably leave anyway. The following day my transfer was approved, thanks to Bill, but he stressed that I was always welcome back on his team in Jo'burg!!
There followed two and a half wonderful years in Durban. I continued to progress ahead of my peers, helped in no small part by the fact that I was always willing to take on travelling audits, even from other sections, something many of the young auditors in Durban were unwilling to undertake. Working in an unfamiliar team worked in my favour, too, as they treated me as a more senior member than my "time served", and I always stepped up to the plate and out-performed my peers.
My progress with the university qualification was slow-going - distance learning was not as easy as attending the local university, but was a lot cheaper, though still a strain on my articled salary. I arrived in Durban earning more than similar time served colleagues (and more than the "recommended" salary suggested by the Accountancy Board), and my pay had been frozen for 18 months, so 12 months after arriving in Durban I spoke to the staff partner about cancelling my articles, and giving up aspirations of qualifying as a Chartered Accountant, as the financial cost at that stage was too much for me. I was offered a 2 year interest-free loan, but would have been in the same position the following year, with new fees due, and still a year left on this year's loan! I  intended to swap to a Chartered Secretary qualification (more of a Bookkeeping qualification, but still a serious accountancy qualification - and the one held by my team leader/office manager in Durban), and eventually they agreed to this, and rewarded me with a very substantial pay rise! As I was now out of Articles my pay grade and promotion within the firm was no longer limited by the Accountancy Board rules, and I soon was leading some small audits of my own, and being relied on very heavily by my direct manager - I was always prepared to put myself out, and test my limits, and he appreciated not having to "supervise" me any more.
At the end of 1977 it had been three years since I had seen my family, who had now returned to the UK, and keeping in touch not nearly so easy as now. Mail took around 3 weeks, so urgent communications were either by Telex or Telegram, as phone calls were very expensive, and not that reliable. I was considering a holiday in 1978 to see them, but the cost was a major stumbling block, so I was also wondering whether a permanent move back to the UK might be advisable, continuing my accountancy career there. South Africa was also by then heading towards independence and a somewhat uncertain future for "whites", especially foreigners, so it was possibly a good time to consider a move. I was in a quandary - if I went for a holiday and liked it the cost of returning to Durban, packing up, and then relocating to the UK was prohibitive, so in the end I decided to make the move when my holiday was due, and so in May 1978, I left Durban, and Africa, and my burgeoning career, and returned to the UK.

Choosing a career - Part 1

Choosing your future career is a really big deal - it could be the job you are going to be doing for the next 40 years or so, so is not something to take on lightly. I know that it is always possible to change your mind, and your career path, at any stage in your life, but since some careers require years of study and then specialised training (medicine, law, etc.) making the right choice as early as possible is quite important.
When I was young I wanted to be a vet - I have always loved animals, and felt that working with them would be great, but the realisation that sometimes you might have to euthanize them, or deal with horrific injuries, something I didn't think I could cope with emotionally, changed my mind. I considered marine biology, something I am still very interested in, but I have a fair skin that burns very easily (and very badly!) and decided that an outdoor water-based career was probably not a good idea. That was about as far as my career plans went until I was in my mid-teens.
At school we studied a variety of subjects until "O" (ordinary) level, and then switched to just 3 subjects for "A" (advanced) level, and generally these three were subjects required for the degree we planned to study at university, and this degree was going to be the foundation of our career path, so by "O" level we were supposed to have a good idea of what we wanted to do. I had no idea at all by then! A year before "O" level we were interviewed by a Careers Master who talked through our options, but for a few of us, like me, we sat an aptitude test to help with our career decision.
This test consisted of about 100 multiple choice questions, with things like: What would you rather do? 1. Cook a meal, 2. Read a book, 3. Play sport, and we had to stick a pin through the box next to our selected answer. Turning over the paper at the end (the Careers Master did this) the pinholes had made a pattern on the back, they actually corresponded to points on a graph, and this was supposed to indicate where our strengths lay. Mine was pretty much a flat line! This meant I showed no particular tendencies, preferences or strengths, and was of no help whatsoever! I was told, however, that this was no problem and that we could revisit it a year later on completion of "O" level.
I loved languages, and had an aptitude for maths, but my shyness made me disregard a teaching career, and I could not really see many options open to me. My father was an accountant, so I was gravitating towards that, following in his footsteps, but with no particular enthusiasm at that stage, though by the time I re-sat the aptitude test - a different one - my responses were slightly more focused and indicated that a career in accountancy might be a good choice! English and Maths were pretty much pre-requisites for a degree leading to an accountancy qualification, so that was easy, but selecting the third "A" level subject was proving difficult. I wanted to do French, but it was what they called a "subject block" meaning that, due to insufficient teachers at our relatively small school, French and Maths could not be taken together (at least the year I, and two others, wanted to do them!) - and my other options were limited to History and Geography! I had not taken either subject up to "O" level, and neither held much interest for me, but I chose History, though swapped to Geography after one term as I was struggling and not enjoying History, though didn't fare much better with Geography either!
The first year (of 3) at University studying for a Bachelor of Commerce degree - with a BComm you still had to do 3 years "articles" with a firm of chartered accountants before sitting your board exam - was tough. Subjects like Accountancy, Economics and Business Law were new to all of us (Maths and English made up the other two), and at first might as well have been Chinese. I was really struggling, especially with Law, and at the end of the first year was not doing well, and decided to change track the following year to a Bachelor of Arts with a view to teaching Modern Languages.
Subjects for year 2 were English, French, German (never done it before!) and Psychology (again new to me!), with Maths thrown in as my 5th! I was not totally sold on the idea of teaching, but basically had chosen subjects I felt I could do well in, and then looked at careers' options using those! It was not a good basis for a degree path, and I did not, to my sham, try very hard that year either. I have always had an aptitude for languages and my German professor could not believe I had no prior knowledge, as I picked up the basics very easily, but Psychology was another mystery to me - I prefer right or wrong answers rather than different interpretations!
At the end of year two I dropped out of University and decided to join a firm of Chartered Accountants, going the longer route to qualification - 5 years articles while doing a degree through distance learning (UNISA - University of South Africa), and I wished I had considered this before, because actually working with real life accounts it all made sense rather than the theoretical work in a classroom! I started work in Beira, Mozambique, for the firm that used to audit the company my father worked for, and soon discovered that I had a real aptitude for the work, despite the fact that I was having to speak Portuguese (my second language that I have been speaking since I was 7!) and learn the terminology in a foreign tongue!

Registering a house in Brazil

I posted some time ago about my house hunting in Brazil (House hunting in Brazil) and my paranoia about getting legal title when most properties did not appear to have any. I have a friend who bought a piece of land (two adjacent plots) 10 years ago with the intention of building a house, which would also serve as a language school, as at the time she was renting and not making enough to finance the construction as well.
To cut a long story short she was away for 6 years trying to raise enough money teaching in Europe to finish the construction - having only completed the foundations and the ground floor walls, no roof, before she left. Due to a change in circumstances she is now planning to sell the property, but like most here does not have title deeds (escritura), though she does have a legal document, which is a "Promesa de compra e venda" - Promise of sale and purchase. These are drawn up before final registration, and are legally binding between the two parties - the seller promises to transfer ownership of the property when the buyer finishes paying for it. Often land purchases are made in instalments, not necessarily with a legal mortgage but simply (ir)regular payments made by the buyer to the seller, so this document means the buyer retains title until payment is made in full, but guarantees that he transfers title upon completion! The process could take years.
The problem my friend is having is that this "promise" was made 10 years ago, and while still legally binding - and she paid in full at the time! - the land where she is was never zoned for residential building, and still, apparently, has not been formally scheduled as such by the local authorities. She went to the local land registry and was told that they cannot register her title, but that she could sell on the land - with another "promise" document, and the original vendor would still be liable to register the title in the new buyer's name, when and if registration become possible. It turns out that she, too, did not buy from the original seller (who was himself a lawyer!), but from the person he sold the plot to originally!
People here have an in-built distrust of the legal profession, so much of the legal processes are done at a "cartorio" (registry office), rather than using solicitors. When someone passes away often they die intestate (no will) so there is then a battle between the heirs - large families so could be several sons/daughters and even ex-wives/partners - and they will all try and lay claim to any land, often selling off plots rapidly to raise money. Two or three children sometimes sell the same plot, leaving future problems for the buyers, or the oldest child (or a brother/spouse/etc.) may come along later and claim that they were the real heir! All of these could be avoided by using solicitors, having a will, and so on - but without this "protection" it makes for years of litigation!
The land is officially in an Environmental Protection Area, so should never be zoned for residential, but there are around 100 houses in the area, most, if not all, without proper legal title - and some are large multi-bedroomed guest houses. Others are paying local council taxes, and have electric and water supplies, but IBAMA (Brazil's environment agency) is not happy that the council are allowing this construction to occur, and may, if they get government backing, take action against the "land" owners, though they have been trying for years. It is more than likely that they will have to back down and allow the council to zone it as residential, and then permit registration of title, but this could still take some years.
Everyone goes along believing that the system will eventually prevail and they are safe buying property on these "promises", and that they can register proper title at some later, unspecified date, which is something that I could never do!

Having a house-guest stay with you!

I have lived alone now for at least 15 years - my choice - and really enjoy the freedom it allows me. I can eat when I want, go to bed when I want (I am now retired), wander round the house in as little clothing as I want (not overlooked!!), and basically do exactly what I want, when I want! The past 10 years I have had someone stay here before 3 times - the first was my daughter and husband-to-be, visiting Brazil for the first time, and we only came to my house after doing some travelling round Brazil (Pantanal, Iguazu waterfall, etc.) and had shared accommodation in some places along the way, and they were only here for two or three days before having to return to the UK. The second was a friend who was leaving Brazil for 2 years, intending to return, and who left a lot of her belongings in my house - that was only for one night before I took her to the bus station to start her journey back to Europe. The third was my second cousin (daughter of my cousin), who I had not met before, but she was travelling the world and stayed a couple of nights. All 3 of these were uneventful, and quite enjoyable.
The friend who left the belongings is back - 6 years after she left - to sort her affairs out for a final time. We have known each other for over 10 years, and are good friends - she used to have permanent residence (though lost it because she was out of the country too long for medical reasons), and we had discussed ways she could help me get mine, even the suggestion of a "marriage of convenience", which we were seriously considering once she came back (within the 2 year limit, so that option is no longer available), so we are really good friends.
If I go and stay with anyone I follow their rules, or at least their routine - so if breakfast is at 07.00, then I am up at 06.50, unless they are happy for me to make my own (though personally I would not want to upset their routine), lunch at 12.30, then I am there helping, and dinner at 19.00, likewise. It is the third day, and there is a week to go, and my friend has been appearing after 08.30 (currently 09.00 and no sign of her!), and eventually eating breakfast around 09.30, so is not hungry by my lunchtime, and has been going out to meet other friends here she hasn't seen for years (and prospective property purchasers) in the evening, so out when I have my dinner. The last two nights she has returned after midnight, too! She told me yesterday she preferred a large meal at lunchtime as I eat too early, so she would be hungry again by midnight!
The reason she has been away so long is for her health, and she is suffering in the heat here after Europe, so prefers to do anything in the evening, not the heat of the day, but spends the day either sorting through the things she left here, or "resting" because of her health! But most of the time it is complaining about the heat, or how she cannot do the things she used to take for granted, or about how difficult it is proving to sell her property - people only want half the land, or to finance the purchase (paying her directly in instalments, not through a mortgage).
One way I could get permanent residence here is through marriage, but the past few days have taught me that after 15 years alone (not lonely, I hasten to add) I do not want to share my living space with anyone else, and am counting down the days till I get my "castle" back to myself!

Blatant dishonesty

Just after I woke a couple of days ago I heard very loud talking in the street outside, and went to the window to see what was going on. A neighbour, from about a block away, was talking to another at the corner. He is naturally very loud so I could hear every word clearly, though had not heard the start of the conversation.
He owns a large guest house down the street, and on occasion coach-loads of tourists come to stay, though sometimes the coaches refuse to drive down the steep street so the guests have to walk down the hill. The gist of the conversation was that he had not yet erected a signboard outside as if he did he would have to start paying Council Tax on the guest house, but currently was only paying a nominal amount as a residence (Council Tax is very low here on domestic premises). He was complaining loudly about the tax rates, and was going to avoid them as long as he could.
I went down past his building today and he was outside and we started talking about a plot of cleared land opposite, which I though was going to be turned into another residence, but he said that he, and other neighbours, had cleared this to make a "leisure area" near the river, and allow for additional parking/turning (no doubt for the coaches, which have to reverse back uphill at present!). He invited me in (we are acquaintances) and he showed me round. Currently there are 18 en-suite rooms, with plans for more, and a large swimming pool almost completed, and he has a superb view over our small river.
He proudly told me that he didn't advertise much locally to keep "under the radar", but relied on external tour companies to bring guests to him. He also works as a local tour guide so has contacts with tour agencies outside the region. As well as not paying local taxes, he is not registered as a local business so pays no income tax either! This also means he is not covered by any health and safety measures, and I would also bet that he has no public liability insurance!
One of his neighbours is the Secretary for Tourism, working for the local government, and obviously is aware of the situation regarding non-payment of any taxation, but he also runs a local restaurant so benefits from this influx of tourism, and, in his opinion, any additional tourism is great for the town, so turns a blind eye.
What was ironic was that the guest house owner was complaining that he was having to fund some of the work to build the "leisure area", along with other neighbours, as the local council wasn't interested - appearing to ignore the fact that perhaps the council did not have sufficient funds if he, and others, were avoiding paying all their taxes!
I have always prided myself on my own honesty, have never, and would never, steal anything, cannot even walk out of a shop if I have been undercharged, or over-changed, would never try and evade my taxes (local or income), even if I felt they were too high (though I would protest through legal channels if I felt I was being treated unfairly in any way), and always try and be fair and honest in all my dealings, so seeing someone doing this so blatantly, and seeming so proud of the fact, really leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Boating in Norfolk - Part 4

We had a transit van we used for deliveries from our grocery store/bakery and this was great for bringing all the gear to the boat. We took the inflatable tender and engine home, and also a large fuel can which we filled on the way to the boat each time - once back in Africa we had run out of fuel on the Zambezi so took no chances now!

Our transit van, and in front my Honda 650 bike.

The bike, in the photo, was only used when we had more than three of us heading to the boat - 3-person bench seat in the front of the transit.
So the following weekend everything was in place for our first proper fishing adventure - the boat was in good nick, fuel filled, bait collected (we drove past a tackle shop on the way where we could buy lug-worms, the favoured bait along this stretch of coast), and my nephew dosed with anti-seasickness pills. The weather forecast was for good conditions so we were looking forwards to our trip.
Sunday morning was clear with no mist, and little wind so we motored across Breydon Water, through Great Yarmouth harbour, and out into the North Sea again! Bearing in mind how our first trip had finished with engine problems we decided that we wouldn't go very  far this time, so dropped our anchor a hundred metres or so away from the shipping lane, and soon had our lines in. I had traded our beach-casting gear in at the tackle shop for boat fishing tackle, and Dad and I had identical Shakespeare rods, with Penn multiplier reels and 35 pound test line, with lighter tackle for Paulo, who was about 12 at the time.
Soon I was catching Flounder, some nice ones to about 3 pounds, and Dad and Paulo, on the opposite side of the boat were catching ... nothing! Dad and I even swapped places and though he did manage to catch one, I still ended up with 9 to his one! Identical tackle, identical bait, and line dropped no more than 3 metres apart!
While we were fishing we noticed some commotion in the harbour entrance about half a mile away, and a couple of tugs and rig support vessels appeared towing an oil rig out of the harbour. We were well off the shipping lane, but they seemed to be slowly heading straight towards us, giving us cause for concern. It appeared that they may simply be manoeuvring to turn the rig, though they were edging closer and closer to us, and some other small boats fishing the area, but had not yet made any signal to us of their intentions. Eventually we decided to use our discretion and raised the anchor to move further South out of the way, but, unfortunately, the fish stopped biting in the new spot so we headed home. The journey home was uneventful and back home Mum cooked us the Flounder for dinner!
That actually turned out to be our last North Sea fishing trip! We tried again on several occasions, but the mist was too thick most of the time - on one day we could not even start across Breydon Water as we couldn't see the navigation marker posts - and on another occasion we reached the harbour mouth and a large swell was coming in. We decided that once past the opening it might be OK so made a run at it, but the waves were much taller than the boat and did not seem to be much better beyond. The problem then was how to turn round and get back in!! The wave frequency was short, and we knew that we had to turn in the trough between waves, and get our prow headed back into the harbour in that short space, since being hit broadside by a wave would possibly have swamped us! Dad trusted me with the helm and we continued meeting the waves head on while waiting and hoping that we would see an opportunity to spin round - we had the power and speed, but needed enough room to make the manoeuvre. It took about 10 waves before we decided to make a run for it, and as soon as we crested one wave I revved the engine and put us in a tight turn - it worked!! We were "surfing" down a wave back towards the harbour entrance keeping our speed just right so we didn't "catch" the preceding wave, and using throttle and rudder to keep ourselves straight, when Dad said "don't look back", which, of course, I did! The wave was almost breaking over the stern of the boat! However I had learnt enough by then not to panic, but to keep my speed and direction, and soon we entered the calmer waters of the harbour. It was an incredible experience, gave us a lot of confidence in both our ability, and, especially, that of the Petite Promesse, but we decided that we didn't want to repeat that particular experiment again.
The day I used the bike (as well as Dad driving the Transit van) my girlfriend, later to be my wife, had been staying with us, so the three of them (Dad, Paulo and Ali) had travelled in the van, and I followed on the bike. When we arrived at the marina Dad discovered he had left the gate keys, which also had the ignition key!) back at home, so I turned round and raced back to collect them. Now I am not normally a speedy rider, but Sunday morning and a desire to get out on the water (we were supposed to be back home for lunch which Mum was preparing) meant I did go somewhat faster than usual and the normal 40 minute journey in the van, took me less than 40 minutes - there and back! They had the boat ready for action by the time I got back and we went and pottered around Breydon Water for a while, before mooring up again. I mentioned before that we moored stern on to the pontoon, so had to pull the boat back, using the stretch of the nylon rope, to get close enough to step onto the pontoon. Ali wanted to get ashore so Paulo pulled the rope to get the stern close, and she started stepping across, but paused halfway - one foot in the boat the other on the pontoon, and Paulo could not hold the boat for long! The inevitable happened! Splash! Ali was in the water! The boat had a short ladder at the rear and she started climbing up, but the weight of wet clothing made this difficult - and I am afraid that both Dad and I were unable to help - we were in hysterics! Eventually we did manage to get her out, but had no dry clothing for her, though I did have a lightweight cagoule and over-trousers for my bike, so she put these on and wasn't too cold. Ali was not happy at us all laughing instead of helping, and said that Mum would be more sympathetic, though we told he it was unlikely, so I followed the van home and waited for Ali to knock on the door (we didn't take house keys with us) first - Mum opened the door, took one look at the bedraggled Ali, and burst out laughing too!! It didn't do any harm to our relationship, though, and we did eventually get married!
We kept the boat for a few months after that, and did some boating on Breydon Water, but the weather prevented us from venturing out to sea again, and shortly after that pressure of work and family meant we decided to sell the boat. It had been great fun while it lasted.