January 2016 - Boat Life Larks

Ft. Lauderdale, FL: April 2015

Independence was initially berthed in Ft Lauderdale, just off Las Olas. Sounds fun, eh? It was fun! Unfortunately, Las Olas LOVES a good parade / walk / show and hosts one every weekend, shutting down the main road to get to Inde. :-( (Yes, dear reader, the side roads / detours were constantly under construction also.) It would take us most of the day to get to the boat, and then we would be pretty grumpy and have to take questions and stares from the hotel guests, whose backyard we were in. Kinda OK, fun, lovely to talk to you, the nearest liquor store is down that way, I don’t know why I didn’t get a bigger boat, how interesting that your friend had a boat and hated it, when did shirts go out of fashion for men? Do you know about sunscreen?

So, yes, lots of fun, but not a permanent place and we decided to move her to North Palm Beach Marina. All we had to do was get her there….

Leaving Ft. Lauderdale

Per the usual, we passed some nifty yachts in Ft Lauderdale, and again, per the usual, had to wait 29 minutes for our first bridge. The second bridge closed as we approached, but we decided to get our blood pressure up and take our 54 ft mast with 2 ft VHF under the 56.5 bridge (if the sign was accurate!).

Looks like we are not going to make it, right?

The VHF didn’t even scrape! Past Steven Spielberg’s 282 ft yacht, the 7 Seas, past the Cruise Port, the police boats, and out the inlet being jostled by an incoming tide.

Check out the dinghy's pod bay!

The Open Ocean

Ah, the open ocean! Raise the sails. Except they have other ideas. Apparently they are not affixed to the boom and we are missing sailcars. We can still get them up ⅔ of the way. Later, I get 3 calls from the rigging company who had arrived to finish the job they told me they finished a week ago. They were flabbergasted that we had the sails up at all - I’m pretty sure the tone inferred that we would die any minute. Matt told me it was getting nautical (code for, shits hitting the fan / death is approaching / where’s the EPIRB) and Hastings got sea sick. It's a miracle that we survived long enough to notice no one thought to pack lunches, and then the slow miserable, grumpy death ensued.

Survival Rations

Luckily, I always have survival rations of salt and vinegar crisps and Cadbury’s chocolate eggs which somehow kept us conscious. It was a fairly straight forward 50-mile trip, dodging tons of fishing boats in the Gulf Stream, watching literally 100s of flying fish at a time leap out of our way, staring at the turquoise blue water going by. One of Matt’s co-workers flew over and took pictures, which entertained us all for a while.

Fly over shot, fun!

Getting nautical!

Things turned nautical again when we arrived at our inlet and struggled to take down our jury-rigged sails while Lucy steered towards some divers - in 80 ft of nasty water - in a shipping lane. Everyone survived (again!) but were definitely getting tired, hot and hangry.

I received the briefing detailing my job once we got to the dock: From 20 ft away, lasso the tiny minuscule cleat, and hold it there while the boat lines up. Not a problem, the boat only weighs 16,000 pounds. That's 15,880 more than me. Then, when the marina is in sight, Matt decides he needs to use the bathroom. He’s had 12 hours to decide that and now it’s an emergency? I'm beginning to get panicked that the docking will be a scene and all our new neighbors will be out there watching. I ask what plan B is to this absurd lassoing scheme - it's to reverse and try again, 969 times until we get it. OK.

Home again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

Amazingly, I got it right the first time and we tied up, then started untying and re-tying - standard procedure :-). I’m only sorry our new neighbors didn’t see how awesome we are at docking! We then ordered Thai and walked across to get it (yes, there’s a Thai restaurant behind the marina!)

Welcome wine, can't beat that!

We like our new spot!

Finished salon: nav chair, salon cushions, curtains, throw pillows. A wide angle lens covers all manner of sin!

You won’t believe how many sewing opportunities a boat provides! Cockpit cushions, interior curtains, salon cushions, throw pillows, dodgers, biminis, shades, and adding lace to your cut off jeans to cover up oil stains. And then re-doing the curtains and salon ‘cause the regular fabric is providing too much penicillin! What larks!

Curtains gone moldy. So sad.

Before I start a sewing project, I religiously watch the Sailrite instruction videos. Sailrite makes videos of employees making cushion covers etc; they make it seem “easy” and “fun” so you rush online, clickety-click on fabrics and zips, and then make fabulous amazing cushions, just like the videos! Except your name isn’t Deb, and it’s not like it is in the videos.

First up: patterning. Sailrite has fancy pencils, patterning material, rulers, etc. I also strongly suspect by the lack of pit stains that they have air conditioning. I have Christmas paper, a biro, and work in “feels like temps” of 110F.

Down back rests and foam cushions, custom cut to cover our storage openings exactly instead of the stupid old way of removing two cushions to get to one storage area.

It's time to transfer the pattern to the fabric. Sailrite has a table, a very large table, for this. The biggest, flattest, cleanest spot for me to do this is on my bed. Don’t worry, the dog food and water bowls I kick over while struggling through the salon and down the companionway are left for the husband to slip in. (Cost of ER visit = considerable grumbling and $900) Amazingly I have yet to accidently cut the sheets (I know, I’m cursing myself) (Future anticipated cost = $45). This method involves a lot of hunching and sweating while I mis-cut the pattern (something Sailrite never does) (Cost of lost fabric = $35).

Then I heave the marked fabric through the boat obstacle course to hunch over the hotknife in a precarious way on an un-air conditioned ledge (after shutting down anything that uses power in the boat since the hotknife will overpower the system otherwise).

Now it’s time to start swearing, I mean sweating, I mean sewing. I enjoy sewing so much that I often spend 4 hours sewing a cushion together to discover that it is 4 inches short. Or inside out.

A cushion too short. Life is more tragic than orderly.

Do Deb and Sandra at Sailrite really not swear while sewing? Do they edit it out? How many takes do they have to do? How is it that it's always the same person all the way through the video? Surely half way through, Deb says, that’s it, I quit and is carted off to a mental health center and Sandra has to take over? Why does their bobbin never run out of thread?

Deb also never seems to be forced to stop her project because her husband, in the middle of a head plumbing project, needs her to carry (I am not kidding here) a 3 gallon bucket of sloshing s-h-i-t (again, I am being literal) to be “taken care of” - aka, flush it down the other toilet, while sloshing it over the new cushions, your piles of clean laundry, and the floor. They don’t have to delay their hotknifing because the aforementioned husband is using all the boat’s power on powertools associated with his own s-h-i-t-t-y project.

Hastings wants to know why I'm making such a dog's breakfast out of this. Maybe I should watch the videos again.

Don’t worry, this delay is a perfect time to angrily lay in a dejected heap calculating how expensive this money saving DIY project is. Sure, it would cost $3500 to pay someone to re-do my couch, and it only costs say $450 for materials. But when you calculate the 40 hours of labor, the lifetime loss of a straight spine, the permanent mental health damage, the 6 recovery days at the spa and the 25 boxes of wine, what is the true cost? And no, there’s no immeasurable satisfaction of doing it yourself. There’s only the deflating disappointment you feel when your eyes are constantly drawn to that hotknife burn mark, the missed stitches, and the strange bulges.

Hemming the curtains in-situ due to sloping window sizes

At least I know why they love sunbrella fabrics so much: the blood, s-h-i-t, sweat and tears wipe right off. This will be handy for the celebratory wine I'll be sloshing around later!

You did OK mom, just missing a certain dog smell. I'll get right on it!

First Weeks on The Boat

We are lucky enough to have two weeks off work over the Holidays. We had a glorius plan of leaving the docks immediately and heading on the best vacation ever. Of course, boats have their own plans. It was still the best vacation ever.....

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Arrived to notice dinghy completed deflated. Seams have utterly failed and repair is doubtful. Planning on washing the boat, getting groceries and running engine checks in preparation for Monday departure to vacation heaven; however, staring contest with hotel guests wins as being the more entertaining and achievable goal.

Monday, December 22, 2014

Today was a sh*tty day. I got PTSD washing the boat and being pelted by birds - to right, to left, in front, volleyed and thundered and finally took direct hits to the head and back. Instead of taking an opera shower in my luxury shower stall, I was faced with no water pressure, caused by no water in the tanks which had just been filled, caused by a broken fitting at the transom shower. At least the engine room enjoyed a nice fresh water bath and the bilges are now sparkling!

Being helpful, I then turned the bilge pumps on while Matt sat down in the salon to announce that the crisis was temporarily abated. I delicately asked why the starboard bilge pump was running non-stop if we were no longer sinking? Is it another, previously un-supervised leak running amuck? Investigation showed that it was my mistake for forcing the bilge pumps on at the panel. Lesson learned.

The good news is our toilets are manual pump and seawater flush so at least we don’t have to use a bucket for that! Spoke too soon – toilet clogged. All that is needed to fix it is to tear it apart and get covered in sh*t! Winning! Don’t worry – Matt was fine!

Because of the difficulty of interpreting what Matt’s “I’m fine” means, we instituted a Scale of Suffering, 1-10, 10 being the most suffering we can currently imagine and it’s time to sell the boat. The scale of suffering expands daily. SOS was at a 6 today.

Upshot: Not leaving today, tomorrow is not looking good either. Haven’t accomplished the list we began with as more urgent things keep crapping out!

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Christmas Day - toilet is fixed, however, we are now trashing toilet paper instead of flushing it. I go to use the facilities, forgot to pre-prepare the baggie, and start raging profanity as I could not open the infuriating baggie while holding the offending tissue in one hand. Matt calmly informs me that a nice family has just sat down to brunch at the docks – they brought their own white tablecloth and perhaps they would appreciate peace and quiet instead of listening to a stream of obscenities. SOS has topped the charts! We’re calling our broker to curse him out! At least I remembered to close the lid while pumping the requisite minimum 29 times. It can be distressing to have the splashy splashy in your face.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Boxing Day – up at 5:45AM to run the engines and depart! Yay! Best day ever! Engines start fine, but the starboard one does not discharge water – meaning It is not being properly cooled and will be damaged if it continues to run. We contacted maintenance, and even though they are closed until Jan 5th, they sent someone out to look at it. He was able to quickly fix us up and we are anticipating a Saturday departure. Supposedly, it's bad luck to leave for a sailing trip on Fridays. Meanwhile, I have gotten a lot of work done on the salon curtains and cockpit cushions. We’ve fixed a lot of things and are really learning the systems.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

Repeat of Friday – except we actually leave the dock! Hastings hates the way the engines rumble the whole house, he is convinced that it means death is imminent. And then the house he’d just gotten used to – moved. Bloody murder!

Sailing Ft Lauderdale canals at sunrise in a Lagoon 380 sail catamaran

We cruised through Venice of America canals and waited for the Las Olas bridge. We were hoping to make the next opening at 17th Street, but made it 1 minute left – which gave us 29 minutes to practice maneuvering and tuning out the rabid dog howling, pacing, etc. Through 17th St, past Steven Spielberg’s yacht – through Port Everglades with lots of cruise ships in port including the world’s largest, Oasis of the Seas. Hastings was not impressed.

17th Street bridge opening, Ft Lauderdale

We got the sails up fine and killed the engines. Dinner Key Mooring Field didn’t have room at the inn so we’d have to continue and sail a total of 65 miles to Elliot Key.

Suddenly, there was a loud snap and I noticed a small shoestring size string fall from the general vicinity of the sail. The boom started swinging. Investigation showed a shoddy shoestring was holding the boom. We took down the sails and Matt rigged a quick fix. Later, there was another snap – one of the lazy jacks failed and dropped the folded mainsail and reefing blocks onto Matt's head. At least it didn’t hit anything he needed! Ha! Now the bilges were running full time and the engine room was filling with water – again.

We somehow made it to our anchorage before sunset and even managed to anchor for the first time without too much drama. Next up – take the dog to shore for a potty break. Unfortunately, our dinghy engine kept dying. We knew it was sick but Matt had tried to tune it up. After 6 restarts and deaths, we rowed back to the boat. It was just too far to row to shore against the current.

High level crisis talks and blame gaming ensued. What we were going to do? I was blamed for not buying a fake patch of grass that I knew he wouldn’t use. He’s going to hold it for 48 hours while howling and pacing and then die from uromisitis! Anyway, the crisis solved itself – Hastings had gone on the deck to prepare himself before the dinghy ride. (Why he couldn’t have told us this sooner, I do not know.)

Sunday, December 28, 2014

A day of not moving in order to solve yesterday’s issues. Dinghy outboard taken apart, lazy jacks temporarily repaired, engine room water issue discovered to be something our mechanic had been fiddling with but hadn’t closed off, so that was easy to fix– reading and sunbathing also accomplished.

Working in the engine room on a Lagoon 380 sail catamaran

Boat dog taking a nap on a Lagoon 380 sail catamaran

Monday, December 29, 2014

Let’s sail to Mi-ami! We pulled anchor and then decided on Key Largo. Actually, I think we’ll go to Elliot Key! We got in 18 miles of sailing and made good 1.6 miles. Winning! Headed to shore to walk to the Atlantic Beach. Ambushed by a plague of 20,000 mosquitos. Hastings enjoyed a real “out”. Back to the boat!

Tuesday, December 30th, 2014

Let’s sail to Miami - for realz this time. We had left the dog’s dry food in our car so he’s been eating with us, which is spoiling him. No Name Harbor had been sold to us as the most amazing anchorage you’ll ever find. We arrived to find a stifling, crowded freak fest. Executed first docking maneuver with no injuries and minimal yelling / blaming. Sit out to watch other people injure themselves / yell / blame, over what should be 5 dock spots and 5 anchor spots, but was actually 20 and 20, with 6,000 people competing for spots.

We are not here to contemplate, we are here for dog food, so we walked to Winn Dixie in the unseasonable heat. We got back to No Name Harbor, had to fight small children to remove them from the dinghy, and collapsed on Inde. Then we tensely watched more people enter the anchorage and anchor very close to us. (Vacation is exhausting. Can we go back to work now?)

Wednesday, December 31st, 2014

I wanted to get the hell out of this hell hole, so awoke at dawn ready to go. I was perturbed to see yet another boat had crammed into this tiny, stifling, miserable hell hole and anchored right on top of our anchor. Intense glaring awakened the interloper and he quickly moved, allowing us to depart to less entertaining anchorages. Sorry about the laser holes I drilled into your head with my thoughts, interloper. It must have been very horrid coming into here in the middle of the night! What larks!

Thursday, January 1, 2015

A full day spent at anchor off Elliot Key. We read books on the trampolines and decided it was rather boring being on the boat when nothing breaks. The water at Elliot Key is crystal clear and simply delightful. There are plenty of opportunities to dinghy the dog to various shores for walks (providing you have a working dinghy and engine), sandy beaches (just ignore the bugs) and the stars on a clear night are astounding. It’s a lovely place to get away from it all.