Olhao Street Art - a boat on the high seas

Day 33 of lockdown – off to see Charles

I received a message on Facebook a couple of days ago from Charles – better known as Captain Jack.

He’s what you might call a bit of an eccentric, living on his yacht (on dry land currently, due to the virus and its subsequent restrictions) with his dog, Ziggy.

He’s in his 70s, living life as he wants, reminiscing occasionally about his wife who has now unfortunately passed away, tinkering with his boat (well, more than just tinkering actually – we’ll come to that!), and cycling or walking into town every now and again to get food and see what’s happening – if anything.

“Hi David, all good with you?”

“Yes, all good Charles. This lockdown is a pain in the arse tough. Are you OK?”

“Yes man, same, same, I’m pissed off too. Why don’t you come round the boat yard with a couple of stubbies. I keep a few in the fridge and I need all the help I can get to pull that sun down to the horizon!”

He messages eloquently does Charles!

Is visiting allowed? I’m not sure, but he’s on his own and in his seventies, so maybe it comes under the moniker of ‘helping out someone vulnerable’? Although he isn’t!

I have to go into Olhao anyway to catch up with Vitor and give him some money. He’s cracking on with the building, I must say!

So I reply: “I might well do that Charles! Are you by the Industrial Estate, heading towards the pirate ship?”

Believe it or not, there’s a bloody big junk sat next to the boatyard. It looks just like a pirate ship. You can see it when you catch the ferry out to Armona, and you can see it when you arrive at the Industrial Estate.

“Exactly! I’m next to the pirate junk, but inside the perimeter fence. Virtually the first mast you see to your left as you come through the gate.”

OK, so that’s a plan then!

So, at around 2pm today, I head for Olhao, with €400 in my back pocket and a six-pack of beer in a cooler on the seat next to me.

I catch up with Vitor (with an elbow bump), and it really is impressive how quickly he and his mate (also Vitor!) are working. There are cables everywhere, pipes everywhere, rubble everywhere, Gypsum, insulation and bags of cement everywhere… It might look a mess, but I know from experience with Vitor that he’s not far off cracking on with making the house look more like a house and less like a bomb-site!

We discuss some of the finer details: the location of light switches, glass bricks, and cupboards, which way doors are going to open, whether we need a skip or not (we definitely do!). We agree everything. Then Vitor suggests a beer. He must be feeling good about the job – I’ve never seen him drink whilst working before!

He pulls three beers out of the freezer (obviously well prepared!) and I pull a bottle opener out of my pocket. Both Vitors are well impressed with that!

“Years of experience!” I tell them, although I’m not sure they understand what that means.

We sup our beers, discussing things in a mix of English, Portuguese and Moldovan (I know, bloody confusing!), enjoy each other’s company for a bit, and then I’m on my way, telling them that I’ll be back later in the week.

I head towards the boat yard.

It isn’t directly on the way home, but it lies between Olhao and Fuseta (where I’ll be heading later), so that’s handy.

I make for the Industrial Estate, see the pirate ship, park up and look for Charles’ yacht.

You can’t miss it!

It’s like something out of Waterworld, the Kevin Costner movie! I can just imagine Captain Jack, holding the last plant on earth, heading across the oceans and taking on all-comers!

Captain Jack, or rather Charles, is on-deck.

“Hi, Charles.”

“Ahh, David! Come on board!”

I head for the steps that he’s built to provide access: dodgy pieces of timber as the risers, and an old oar as the bannister – all very rickety! I’m sure they’d be bloody dangerous after a few beers, worse than my rickety old spiral staircase even! But Charles is still with us, so maybe not.

I step on board.

I can’t say it’s tidy, or particularly clean, but the ingenuity that Charles has put into this yacht is a sight to behold.

We chat for a bit, about the current climate (ie the virus and its impact) and various other bits and bobs, and then we come to his yacht. I’d like to know more!

I ask him how much he paid for it – rude I know, but he could always ignore me. He doesn’t.

“Paid? Paid?! No, it was about to be scrapped. Me and the wife lived on a big yacht for 20 years, and when she had to take to a wheelchair we got rid of it and bought an apartment. But she could see I was bored, so suggested that I got myself a small yacht to work on. I had a look around – 10-foot sailing boats, 12-foot, but I wasn’t particularly interested in those. We then saw a wreck of a boat on the beach – 16 feet she was (at least I think that’s what Charles said), needing some work. We found the owner and he said it was due to be scrapped in ten days, so we could have it, but that we only had ten days to sort it out. With some friends, I put polythene bags and 6 layers of glass (fibreglass I presume?) on it. The locals called the police, but when the police turned up, they just seemed impressed with what I was doing. They took photos and congratulated me! I then had it taken to the boatyard where I finished kitting it out. We then spent some time sailing her.

“After my wife died, I locked up the apartment and came here.”

Impressive or what?! Charles had saved and renovated the boat by himself.

But I’d also heard a rumour that he’d cut the boat in half and stuck an additional 8 feet in the middle. WTF?! I asked him about it

“Oh yes – I wanted more space!”

He explained what he’d done and how he’d done it, cutting the boat in half (not with a straight cut, but with a serrated cut, like sharks’ teeth) using ‘glass’ (fibreglass again I presume) metal supports, wooden beams.

I sat there shaking my head in wonder. All in all, un-bloody-believable!

“Is it safe? Will it be strong enough?” I asked, with big eyes.

“Oh yes, of course! Stronger than it was before!”

Charles seemed very certain. I only hope he’s right!

He then took me on a tour, showing me the platform he’d added to the back of the boat (to provide space for a small table and 4 chairs, the hoist he’d built to hold the dinghy over the back, the lamps carved to look like a dog and a monkey, the tiller that he could now store away (by adding a hinge in the middle of it) so that it didn’t hit him in the bollocks every time he walked past.

He’d also extended the front of the yacht, although we didn’t go and have a look at that, but he did show me the inside of the yacht: with its cooking area, its water tap, its viewing window (under the boat to see what’s happening with the anchor)…

All I can say is that it had all the home comforts. The fact that Charles had built this virtually from scratch really impressed me.

I opened the cooler and took out a couple of beers, opened them and handed one to Charles.

He took a sip, then stood up and headed off inside. He emerged with a couple of packets of sausages.

“Barbecue?”

On board a boat? Is that safe?

Who knows, but Charles proceeded to pull out a small barbecue, grab some firelighters and charcoal, and before I could say ‘Jack Robinson!’ we had some chunks of spicy sausage to go with our cold beers.

It’s weird where you end up sometimes.

On board a yacht on dry land, in the sun, drinking a beer, eating bits of sausage, and talking about bollocks. We had a good six feet between us due to the virus (obviously!), but even so, it was just a lovely afternoon.

Hopefully, I helped Charles to ‘pull that sun down to the horizon’. If I did, then I’m happy.

I was certainly happy to be there, and will more than likely go again.

And maybe when the virus has come and gone, and Captain Jack decides to take to the High Seas again – well, sail around to the marina in Olhao – then I might be willing to take my life in my hands and do a bit of crewing.

Life’s for living after all.

If you want to read more about my experiences during the Coronavirus lockdown of 2020, click on the logo below – this will take you to viralchitchat.com

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