Wow, has it really been two whole months?!?! In my defense, a LOT has happened.
I almost lost a finger – no really, I did. It was “just” the pinky and it has finally healed (with some residual nerve damage) but as a good friend pointed out, I only really need that finger for drinking tea. Our insurance has telemedicine, so from the comfort of my <blood soaked> bed I was able to get antibiotics. (I question a mix-up at the pharmacy; I am pretty sure I received equine medication.) I was shocked the doctor didn’t ask for pictures – maybe he was reassured by my “merely a flesh wound” assessment of the situation. Clearly, he missed out on Monty Python in med school!
So, for several weeks my right hand spent a lot of time on my head and not a lot of anything useful got done. Incidentally, you learn quite a bit about yourself using only your non-dominant hand. Anyway, once I was finally able to use my hand again I received a few other surprises. The first being an uncertainty in my job role and second, the landlord is selling her house and needs to do some renovations to the apartment…without me in it. I had pushed the boat move aboard to the spring but now suddenly had some tough decisions. I opted for the least committal option – giving living aboard the boat full time a try. No doubt it is going to be an abrupt adjustment but it leaves me the most options at the moment.
In preparation for this event, I rearranged my boat priorities and placed a few immediate orders for equipment and supplies. I also took the largest furry member of my family to get accustomed to the boat. I am glad I did – he was quite freaked out by the movement, noise, and water below the boat. Luckily he calmed down fairly quickly (no doubt the beef jerky, Vienna sausages, and Pringles helped) and in a few hours was flaunting around like a seasoned sailor. There was a moment early on where I had to go to the restroom sans canine and as I was leaving through the companionway I looked back to this face:
I almost lost a finger – no really, I did. It was “just” the pinky and it has finally healed (with some residual nerve damage) but as a good friend pointed out, I only really need that finger for drinking tea. Our insurance has telemedicine, so from the comfort of my <blood soaked> bed I was able to get antibiotics. (I question a mix-up at the pharmacy; I am pretty sure I received equine medication.) I was shocked the doctor didn’t ask for pictures – maybe he was reassured by my “merely a flesh wound” assessment of the situation. Clearly, he missed out on Monty Python in med school!
So, for several weeks my right hand spent a lot of time on my head and not a lot of anything useful got done. Incidentally, you learn quite a bit about yourself using only your non-dominant hand. Anyway, once I was finally able to use my hand again I received a few other surprises. The first being an uncertainty in my job role and second, the landlord is selling her house and needs to do some renovations to the apartment…without me in it. I had pushed the boat move aboard to the spring but now suddenly had some tough decisions. I opted for the least committal option – giving living aboard the boat full time a try. No doubt it is going to be an abrupt adjustment but it leaves me the most options at the moment.
In preparation for this event, I rearranged my boat priorities and placed a few immediate orders for equipment and supplies. I also took the largest furry member of my family to get accustomed to the boat. I am glad I did – he was quite freaked out by the movement, noise, and water below the boat. Luckily he calmed down fairly quickly (no doubt the beef jerky, Vienna sausages, and Pringles helped) and in a few hours was flaunting around like a seasoned sailor. There was a moment early on where I had to go to the restroom sans canine and as I was leaving through the companionway I looked back to this face:
Pure pitiful!!
The next test was an overnight in the cold without a heater. Don’t worry, no dogs were harmed in this adventure. I opted to go it alone because if I couldn’t take it, biking home was much quicker than walking. Why without heat? Well, mostly because I didn’t have a portable heater yet but in theory to see if I was ‘on the hook’ in the river and not docked in a marina if it was doable. I should tell you now, I DESPISE being cold. I would rather suffer in temperatures greater than 100 degrees with 100% humidity than deal with cold, ice, or snow. Because of this, I carried many layers of clothes, sheets, comforters, snuggies, and my desert sleeping bag to the boat.
During the day I was able to get some sanding and painting done – I used some random leftover paint and by a stroke of pure happenstance it matches the internal fiberglass exactly! I have big plans for the rest of that can! I turned my attention to the anchor line which is stowed in the front of the v-berth. Since I needed to vacuum it out and I really didn’t want the gross line at my head while I slept, I planned to pull the line up on deck and wash it down well. Predictably, this plan was a little too naïve. The metal cap on the anchor locker looked like it should be removable. I tried and tried to pry it loose but it was not going anywhere. I started pulling the rope out and neatly wrapping it around my forearm when there was a pop and in a half a second I watched in horror as the cap followed its trajectory through the air and into the water – with an indignant “kerplop”. My first toll to Neptune – and it felt horribly embarrassing. Why would that not be attached with a chain/lanyard? So now, set to stay overnight on the boat I have a rather large cold air superhighway inches from my head. I was scared to see how much that metal cap was going to cost to replace but regardless, there was no way to get one to the boat in the few hours before nightfall – at least within my means. As embarrassing as this is to report, duct tape to the rescue! At least it kept the wind and moisture out.
The temperature dropped to 36 degrees overnight. It turns out the temperature wasn’t the comfort issue. I found some big gaps around the companionway that I need to seal so they were temporarily stuffed with rags. All my lights and entertainment had full battery charge but I had the electric cord just in case. I snuggled into the bunk in a tank and shorts with additional layers at the ready as needed. Surprisingly, the temperature inside the boat really didn’t start to get uncomfortable until about midnight when I started piling on the fleece, blankets and sleeping bag. I drifted off to sleep on the terribly uncomfortable cushions. Just a few short hours later, I was awakened by a sound reminiscent of the Hollywood sound effects on the sinking Titanic – in the dark. The wind had picked up so there was a great deal of pulling, pushing, and flexing going on. I tried to keep reminding myself that the boat had been afloat longer than I had been alive so to trust her but hearing all the noises and having my outside view blocked by the window shades I installed earlier in the day was too much. I removed the shade from the berth and watched the external surroundings during this serenade. Eventually the wind and noise calmed down, I replaced the shade and drifted back to an uncomfortable slumber. A few hours later the morning fishermen were arriving at the dock and the commotion they caused slowly stirred me awake. I just rested in the bunk, pleased with the relative success of the evening test. At that moment a loud CRASH happened on the deck right above where I was sleeping. I was half too tired/half too worried to look and see what had just fallen off of or flown into my boat. Then I heard the pitter patter of webbed feet run across the length of the deck. I suspect it was the heron which the marina staff reported really likes to spend time on my boat. He has good taste!
My boat toys have been arriving all week and I am excited to get back on the boat and start playing with (installing) them. Today’s final project for school was submitted and graded so I am finally free of that burden. Good timing since I am dealing with graduation, moving all my stuff, acclimating the dogs and making a boat live-aboard-able. A sailing friend of mine was cleaning out her storage and found a book she brought for me to read. “There Be No Dragons” by Reese Palley. I have only gotten to read a few excerpts but I have been delighted so far. Perhaps one of the best lines I have seen: “By all means take an animal as crew. They are, perhaps, God’s apology for all the human assholes in the world.” I can't wait to read the rest of this book!
During the day I was able to get some sanding and painting done – I used some random leftover paint and by a stroke of pure happenstance it matches the internal fiberglass exactly! I have big plans for the rest of that can! I turned my attention to the anchor line which is stowed in the front of the v-berth. Since I needed to vacuum it out and I really didn’t want the gross line at my head while I slept, I planned to pull the line up on deck and wash it down well. Predictably, this plan was a little too naïve. The metal cap on the anchor locker looked like it should be removable. I tried and tried to pry it loose but it was not going anywhere. I started pulling the rope out and neatly wrapping it around my forearm when there was a pop and in a half a second I watched in horror as the cap followed its trajectory through the air and into the water – with an indignant “kerplop”. My first toll to Neptune – and it felt horribly embarrassing. Why would that not be attached with a chain/lanyard? So now, set to stay overnight on the boat I have a rather large cold air superhighway inches from my head. I was scared to see how much that metal cap was going to cost to replace but regardless, there was no way to get one to the boat in the few hours before nightfall – at least within my means. As embarrassing as this is to report, duct tape to the rescue! At least it kept the wind and moisture out.
The temperature dropped to 36 degrees overnight. It turns out the temperature wasn’t the comfort issue. I found some big gaps around the companionway that I need to seal so they were temporarily stuffed with rags. All my lights and entertainment had full battery charge but I had the electric cord just in case. I snuggled into the bunk in a tank and shorts with additional layers at the ready as needed. Surprisingly, the temperature inside the boat really didn’t start to get uncomfortable until about midnight when I started piling on the fleece, blankets and sleeping bag. I drifted off to sleep on the terribly uncomfortable cushions. Just a few short hours later, I was awakened by a sound reminiscent of the Hollywood sound effects on the sinking Titanic – in the dark. The wind had picked up so there was a great deal of pulling, pushing, and flexing going on. I tried to keep reminding myself that the boat had been afloat longer than I had been alive so to trust her but hearing all the noises and having my outside view blocked by the window shades I installed earlier in the day was too much. I removed the shade from the berth and watched the external surroundings during this serenade. Eventually the wind and noise calmed down, I replaced the shade and drifted back to an uncomfortable slumber. A few hours later the morning fishermen were arriving at the dock and the commotion they caused slowly stirred me awake. I just rested in the bunk, pleased with the relative success of the evening test. At that moment a loud CRASH happened on the deck right above where I was sleeping. I was half too tired/half too worried to look and see what had just fallen off of or flown into my boat. Then I heard the pitter patter of webbed feet run across the length of the deck. I suspect it was the heron which the marina staff reported really likes to spend time on my boat. He has good taste!
My boat toys have been arriving all week and I am excited to get back on the boat and start playing with (installing) them. Today’s final project for school was submitted and graded so I am finally free of that burden. Good timing since I am dealing with graduation, moving all my stuff, acclimating the dogs and making a boat live-aboard-able. A sailing friend of mine was cleaning out her storage and found a book she brought for me to read. “There Be No Dragons” by Reese Palley. I have only gotten to read a few excerpts but I have been delighted so far. Perhaps one of the best lines I have seen: “By all means take an animal as crew. They are, perhaps, God’s apology for all the human assholes in the world.” I can't wait to read the rest of this book!
Velella made it into the subject of an awesome photo taken by a local photographer (which I should point out was trespassing on the dock to get this shot). It was taken before her scrubbing but her silhouette is still beautiful (to me anyway)!