Left Southampton behind and flew the Cirrus up to Wick in Scotland to pick up the survival suits and raft from Andrew at Far North Aviation. The flight was a fantastic one because of all the times I’ve flown in the UK the weather was the best it’s ever been. Coming into Wick ATC routed us out over the ocean to set us up for landing. I didn’t mind being a few miles out over the cold water until the engine started running rough, then I minded. I told Marcio to ignore the standard approach and point us directly at the nearest land. He didn’t seem to think the situation was that drastic until I reminded him that while the engines in the jets he normally flies almost never quit, piston engines sometimes do. We messed with the mixture and added a little power which seemed to make the engine happier. We then went and saw Andrew who took us to his gear room to pick out suits and a raft. When he asked me which raft I wanted, I told him “The biggest and best one you’ve got.” “Smart man” he said. “Because if you’ve ever seen one of the smaller ones inflated you wouldn’t feel safe in a swimming pool.” I know most ferry pilots take the smallest raft they can get but if they ever really needed to use it in the North Atlantic I’m sure they would immediately regret their decision. After pushing the plane into Andrew’s gigantic hanger we went out for some great Indian food, a few pints, and called it a day.