Day 94

Mix.

Moving slow again.  Watering the garden I finally meet new neighbour Jo’s partner Andrew who comes to say hello when my hose blew off the tap in the back alley way.  He’s shifting a ton of old radiators about in the house.  I like his energy.

The plan today is to drain the old fuel out of the bus and replace with fresh diesel.  The engine is smoking horribly and it could be the old fuel mix that’s been sitting in the tank for a year causing the trouble.  I dig out a 5 gallon jerry can that I’d forgotten I’d got, sniff it, pour out some dregs, yes old diesel.  Great.

Before getting to the barn I drive over to see Susanna at Eagles Nest, Patrick Heron’s house above Zennor.  S is starting work on the gardens again which is good news.  The gardens have been long neglected and need her experienced hand.  It’s been many years since she has felt able to be there but is making plans to return more often and work with a gardener to bring it back under control.  The location of the house is incredible, set high amongst its trees and shrubs, lawns and granite boulders looking out over the Atlantic…

Back at the barn I drain the tank.  The old fuel looks orange but isn’t sludged up at all.  I run the old Mercedes Diesel engine on a 75% diesel 25% used-veg-oil mix and leaving that in the tank for a year was careless of me.  I pour in the new diesel and run the engine til it gets good and hot.  The cooling fan kicks in and out ok, but I notice a small leak in the radiator header tank – another reason for that radiator rebuild along with the rotten matrix.  But it will be fine for now.  The engines definitely smoking less after this run up.  I’ll see what Si thinks tomorrow – he’s coming to help bleed the brakes and maybe change the injectors.

Jane L comes to see me at the barn, bringing strawberries and saffron cake.  We lounge in the sun in the bus catching up.  Then head back to Pz and it’s the most beautiful summers evening with just a little breeze – just enough so we take Marin-Marie out and sail gently across to the Mount, failing to catch fish yet again and just coasting along, no thrills or spills which is fine with me.  The sun sets as we tack into the harbour the sea golden and darkening, the air warm and gentle.