Back on the Water..... Finally

We’ve been promising ourselves for what feels like ages that we’d get back out on the water, but somehow the timing has never been right. Either the weather was doing its usual Scottish theatrics, or we were waiting in for yet another delivery as we tried to get ourselves properly settled into the new house. Meanwhile, Nick has been dutifully popping down to the boat, chipping away at the last of the winter jobs — the ones that turn chaos into capability and maintenance into momentum.

So, to catch up on what’s been happening behind the scenes over the winter months:

All seacocks replaced with TruDesign (yes, more holes drilled in the boat… and yes, Tracey was nervous)

A handful of worn-out hoses replaced

Every locker emptied and cleaned

Sails off, repaired, and cleaned

A pesky water leak fixed

The hull prepped and antifouled

Hempel Silic One applied to the prop and shaft

All saloon cushions reupholstered - not by Nick

Anchor chain checked and cleaned

Diesel heater replaced - twice

Engine serviced

Oil filter and two fuel filters swapped out

It’s been a busy winter, and Nick has most of this single‑handedly while Tracey and Pepper stayed warm and smug indoors. But that’s the thing about winter on a boat: it’s all groundwork. You don’t feel the payoff until the moment you slip the lines.

The Diesel Heater Saga

The diesel heater, in particular, nearly broke us.

At first, Nick was convinced it was just the controller that had failed. Easy fix — buy a new one. Except… it didn’t fix anything. So he bought a whole new heater. Our excitement at the thought of heat returning to the boat was short‑lived when the new unit also refused to work.

After digging through reviews, it turned out that with the Chinese version he’d bought, this wasn’t entirely unheard of. So he bit the bullet and ordered a second one. When that one didn’t work either, Nick just sat there with his head in his hands, staring into the abyss. Were we about to spend days chasing wires through the boat, turning everything upside down, or was there a simpler explanation?

Tracey — who had been half-listening to one of Nick’s YouTube videos — suggested checking the fuse. Nick wasn’t convinced, but after a moment of deliberation he got up, opened the engine compartment… and there it was. A completely goosed fuse. Somehow it was letting some power through, but not enough to run the system.

Fuse replaced.
Button pressed.
Heater clicked into life.

Hallelujah. We had heat again. One small part replaced, and suddenly the whole boat felt ready to move forward again.

The First Sail of the Season

Eventually, the day came when everything aligned. After months of sanding, scrubbing, replacing, fixing, and generally coaxing Halcyon Sea back into fighting form, we finally felt ready to take her out. It wasn’t just a test sail — it felt like the moment where all that winter graft finally tipped over into momentum.

The sun was shining, the winds were light, and for the first time in a long time, the timing felt right.

We were both feeling those “first sail of the season” nerves. It’s amazing how quickly confidence can gather dust over winter, even when you’ve done this a hundred times before. But that’s the rhythm of sailing: winter slows you down, spring asks you to trust yourself again.

Nick switched on the engine and checked for water flow. So far, so good.
We unhooked the electric, put on our life jackets, secured Pepper, and talked through the plan. We shortened the bow line and then, just like that, we were slipping away from the pontoon and turning toward the harbour entrance.

Pepper barked as we exited — she’d spotted dogs running around on the green where she usually plays, and clearly felt she was missing out. Some things never change.

Once we were a safe distance from the entrance, it was time to raise the sails. With Tracey at the helm and Nick at the mast, we turned Halcyon Sea head to wind and up went the main. The headsail rolled out smoothly, the engine went off… and suddenly we were sailing.

That moment — the silence after the engine cuts out — felt like the season shifting under our feet. Months of winter jobs, cold mornings, and diesel‑heater despair all melted away. We were moving again. Not just the boat — us.

We didn’t stay out long. Just enough to get a few tacks in and make sure everything was working as it should. But as we headed back to our berth, we both felt it: the transition from maintenance to momentum. The season had finally begun.

Next week, if the weather holds, we’re planning our first overnight at anchor — either the Kyles of Bute or Arran. After months of preparation, it feels good to be moving forward again.

For now, Halcyon Sea is tucked back into her berth, ready for the next adventure. We’ve done the work, shaken off the winter nerves, and felt that first spark of movement again. It might be a few days before we write the next chapter — life on land still has its demands — but the momentum has started. And once a boat starts pulling you forward, it’s only a matter of time before you follow.Read more