Leaving Crete in ruins we swapped Alex, who had to go back to work, for Egil's brother Martin who had to be back for his studies at some point. Deadlines, deadlines... In short we made it with a day or two to spare, having had all kinds of winds.
On the way we finally managed to rip the old jib to shreds and show off some dolphins. Always great fun for the kids, the dolphins.
In Malta we discovered two things; first of all Egil's cousin Ole were arriving with a crew from his work, not to join us, but to do what Norwegians normally do abroad. We promptly joined.
Secondly and far less important, we discovered that two of the wires in our rigging had taken such a beating going to Crete that they were coming apart and had to be replaced. That done we returned to the bars, basking in our norwegianness.
Now we're nursing a four-day hangover, waiting for Erlend, the dyrevenn, so we can leave this place and go to Tunisia. (Unless we change our minds enroute and go somewhere else.)
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