November 5, 2019
Ft. Pierce, FL 
27.28.029 N
80.10.591 W


This morning came as early as the previous one with a loud smash followed by a second and third at one end of the boat, then more at the other end before it seemed to settle down.  Today, we discovered that there may be other culprits involved; pelicans diving for fish taking shelter under the boat.  At this point I’m not sure who’s crashing into the boat, the fish or the pelicans!  They seem to have a strategy too!  A couple aces dive bomb the back of the boat while the rest of the squadron simultaneously attack from the front.  The poor fish don’t have a chance!   Still, couldn’t they start their war a little later in the morning and be a bit more stealthy in the process?  Instead they start at the crack of dawn with the loudest crash possible right next to my pillow! 


Doesn’t matter, we needed to be up early today in any event as we were taking Gerry and Nicky to the airport for their last visit to Gerry’s step-mom in Wisconsin.  They were none too happy that the temps in Chicago were predicted to be in the 30’s and they only have tropical clothing to wear.  They decided to layer as best they could and take their foul weather jackets as the final layer.   We found it humorous when they arrived and sent us a photo of their rental car equipped with a brush for wiping snow from the windshield with the caption “what’s this?” 


With the 4 hour transit back and forth to the airport, it pretty much took up the better part of the day, however, we did find time to visit the largest West Marine in Florida just to see if there was anything we couldn’t possibly live without.  Dale found a light to replace the one burned out in the compass and I found a couple of Velcro wraps for our electrical cords to keep them from tangling when stored. 


When we returned to the boat, we were just in time to watch a 50+ foot power boat pulling into the slip behind Gerry.  Opal is 52’, so when it comes time to get underway, it may be a challenge to maneuver his single engine, full keel, around quick enough to avoid catastrophe.  We walked to the end of the dock, where we are tied, stopping occasionally to chat briefly with those on their boats before boarding ours to attack the next project.  Remember?  Fixing your boat in exotic places! 


On our trip down the ICW, we had noticed that our ice maker, although it was freezing beautifully, wasn’t making ice cubes.  Thinking that it just needed to be primed, (he’s really showing his age here) Dale added water to the ice cube tray.  Nope, that wasn’t it.  So we continued by putting containers of water in the storage bin and making ice that way. 


The Tweaker in Chief was not happy with this arrangement, so today he tore it apart.  I was under the impression that we had forgotten to turn on some switch (because we had shut this boat down completely when we thought a hurricane was on our doorstep) but no, he found a burned out gizmo (I’m sure he told me what it was but I only remember that it sounded like it belonged on a spaceship) and proceeded to contact the manufacturer, for the name of the local distributer, to speak with someone in the technical department, to learn if he could order a replacement part.  The technicians had already left for the day, so this will be a continuing saga.  

In the meantime, all of our safety gear, which just happens to be stored in the same closet, is now on the settee in the salon with pieces and parts, manuals and notes, strewn across the table.  I was just starting to get the salon settled so that more than one person could actually sit at the table while eating. 


I have to keep reminding myself that I wouldn’t be on this adventure, if I didn’t have full confidence that Dale could fix just about everything on the boat, so I’ll be quiet while he’s working, and he can sit on one corner of a stool and I’ll sit on the other. 

November 4, 2019
Ft. Pierce, Florida
27.28.029 W
80.10.591 W


Today began with a rude awakening about 6 am when a loud thud hit the side of our boat, right about where my head was laying.  Our first impression was that we had been hit by another boat but it was the wrong side.  Then we thought that our fenders had shifted and we were smashing against the dock.  We later saw that it was actually fish hitting the boat.  We learned that it was a common event that fish, about 18-24” long go crashing into boats all the time in this marina.  We saw a dolphin later in the day and wondered if it was chasing them.  We considered that the bottom of our boat is painted black and maybe they just didn’t see us but wow! Talk about an eye opener!  The rest of the day was spent running errands, getting a rental car, and continuing the saga of the temperamental anchor windlass. 


When we left off, the Tweaker in Chief had decided to chase all of the electrical connections and clean them thinking the possibility of corrosion creeping into various parts might have been the problem for the on again, off again situation.  Which he did.  Then he ran the anchor up and down a couple of times, just to make sure everything was working as intended.  The last time leaving the anchor itself dangling just below the waterline to wash off the accumulated mud.  Once the mud had dissolved, he pushed the button to retrieve it and, . . . nothing!  OK, now things are getting serious.  So he called the number on the wiring diagram only to learn that the original company had been sold to another.  He contacted that number and talked to “Dave”. 


Dave was regaled with the history of the misbehaving mechanism and offered that he thought it was bushings in the motor starting to go bad.  His company didn’t actually sell a new motor but he offered a couple of places that did.  When the discussion of price came up, it was discussed as to whether it might be better to order a new windlass instead of just a part.  We were both surprised when Dave was adamant that no, no, no, we actually had a workhorse of an apparatus and the newer models weren’t anywhere as beefy as the one we had.  He also offered that with our long range plans, taking an extra solenoid would be advisable as they had a nasty habit of quitting too.   


Sometimes, it feels good, when another tells you that he’d love to take more of your money but you don’t need to spend that much, so why don’t you just keep it.  There may be hope for this world yet. 

November 3, 2019
Ft. Pierce, Florida
27.28.029 N
80.19.591 W


Our anchorage was less than comfortable last evening, so between the rocking and rolling, wind howling and worrying about what had happened to the anchor windlass, it was easy to be up and moving at 7:00 this morning.  I say 7, as we had not taken into account that it was the change back to standard time, so we really woke up at 6am.  Doesn’t matter, the sun still comes up when it wants. 


Of course, the first thing Dale did was check to see if the windlass had miraculously healed itself during the night and pushed the button to see if it would work.  Nope!  Still broken. 


As I mentioned yesterday, we learned a few tricks the first time we made this trip, so I laid out a cloth for Dale to drop the chain on as he grabbed another type of snubber to keep the chain from falling back into the water from its own weight.  Then I went back to the cockpit and slowly advanced the engine, so that all the pressure was taken off the chain.  Except for having to flip the anchor around, he hand hoisted it back up without incident and much quicker than either of us expected.  Once again we were heading south and really hadn’t lost any time in the process. 


We made Ft. Pierce by 12:30 and were met by the smiling faces of Gerry (Tinkering Consultant) and Nicky (She Who Must Be Obeyed), on Opal of Queensland, our buddy boat for the remainder of our big adventure.  Gerry met us on the fuel pier and then grabbed our lines when we finally tied up along a pier just across the channel from them.  The guys were soon noodling around the possibilities of what possibly could have gone wrong with the windlass. 


The four of us grabbed a quick bite, we collected the mail they had picked up for us and then the Tinker Twins were in high gear.  Each gathered their multimeters, Dale provided the schematics and diagrams of the offending motor, they donned radio headsets and while Gerry was down below, Dale went above to attack the dang thing from two different directions.  You can imagine their surprise when, for grins and giggles, Dale tried it again, and presto! It worked.  After much discussion, it was decided that as there was some noticeable corrosion on the outside of the motor, so the theory is, that it’s possible one or more of the connections needed to be cleaned on the inside.  Guess what Dale is doing tomorrow!  Just to be on the safe side, he’s going to run the chain up and down a few times just to make sure that it continues to work “under load” and that its not just a trick to get us into some remote spot to die again. 


And so the fun begins; also known as:  fixing your boat in exotic places. 

November 2, 2019
Melbourne, Florida
28.04.826N
80.35.850W



Don’t you love it when a plan comes together?  After the sun went down last evening, it began to calm and it was a very peaceful night.  No darting for an unknown sound during the night and we were in the same place when we arose this morning.  Although it started off a little chilly, it warmed up well into the 70’s. 


We hoisted anchor and were underway by 7:30am and except for looking at the scenery for the next 10 hours, there was nothing extraordinary to tell you about.  I don’t remember so many  mobile homes near the shoreline; you’d think the developers would have bought up all of the scenic property.   There were more dolphins in the ICW than I ever remember too.  Most were babies, frolicking near the shoreline.  I did see one manatee.  Lots of herons and seagulls. 


There was certainly more traffic on the ICW but for a nice Saturday, not as many as you’d expect.  We thought we were going to have entertainment at one point when a power boat would hail vessel after vessel, signaling he was going to pass them, but would just say “southbound sailing vessel, this is Flykt, the vessel behind you”.  Although a couple of people tried to tell him he needed to either call the vessel by name, give a marker, or at least identify what body of water he was in (so that every vessel in a 15 mile radius of his radio heading south, didn’t have to turn around to see if he was on their stern) he never picked up on the hint.  After he had passed us, we heard part of a heated exchange that dissolved as quickly as it started.  Someone ahead of us had clearly had enough of his less than clear communications. 


No, the excitement came when we pulled in to anchor just to the south of the Melbourne Bridge.  We pulled to the east as our guide had directed and dropped anchor.  We backed down on it, got a sharp tug indicating that it had set securely, and Dale proceeded to put a bridle on the anchor (this takes the strain off the anchor windlass and puts it on the cleats designed take the pull).  Unfortunately, when he returned to let out more anchor to put the strain on the bridle, nothing happened.  No click, no pop, no grind and NO motion.  So for the next hour, we let out the remaining length by hand, Dale got out his trusty multimeter and started tracing electrical connections.  The long and short of it is, something’s broke.  We will make our Ft. Pierce destination tomorrow in any event, where we have marina reservations.  There he and his tinkering consultant can start sciencing things to get it to work again.  What this means though, is first thing tomorrow morning, we’ll hoist 50’ of chain by hand back onto the boat.   We know a couple of tricks learned the hard way to making it easier. 


Sort of a comical sidenote: when we took off for our sabbatical back in 2005, our anchor windlass gave us grief all the way to Puerto Rico.  Dale got quite the workout back then hoisting the anchor several times when it would falter.  We’re not going to do that this time.  I’d rather buy a new one now, than start putting bandaids on this one for the next 3-4 months. 

November 1, 2019
New Symrna Beach
29.03.669N
80.55.875W

Who turned off the heat!!  Holy smokes!  We went to bed last evening grateful for the power to  the AC.  This morning Dale got up, got dressed and went outside.  He was back inside within 30 seconds, completely changing clothes saying that it was 60* outside.  A good time to head south. 

We had scheduled a 7:30am appointment to have our boat hauled for the out of water survey.  Dale went up about 7:15am to make contact with the manager as no one had responded to my text from the night before.  He came back about 7:30 saying that there was a whole new group of people there and they were having a meeting at 7:30 to discuss the day.  My impression was that as soon as our surveyor got there, they would know exactly how it was going to start. 

About 7:45 a man with his hands stuffed in his shorts and wearing a flowered shirt looking terribly cold came walking down the dock looking for us asking why we weren’t heading for the haul out.  I explained that we were ready but were waiting for the meeting to get out.  He went looking for Dale, who had gone looking for the surveyor.  I turned on the engines and waited.  Sure enough, here comes Dale, circling his finger as in fire it up, we’re going. 

Dale had warned me that the wind and current were opposed to each other, so be careful.  I backed out like I knew what I was doing.  That’s where it ended. 

Heading to the slip, Dale had said to swing wide, that’s the last I heard.  As soon as I started my turn, it became extremely clear that the current was much stronger than I anticipated and as I slid past the slip, three different men were yelling directions at the same time as the AIS started beeping a warning of a dangerous target in the area.  I wondered if it sensed it was me. 

Ready for the out of water survey

What many of you may not know is that I am a private pilot.  One of the things my instructor screamed in my ear (and there were many) was that you shouldn’t try to save a bad approach; its better to go around and line it up better the next time.  I fell back on that lesson as soon as the yelling started.  So I reversed engines and backed my catywompus angle back into the current.  The next time I approached heading into the current which was much easier to control; that time I pulled in reasonably straight.  The line handlers did the rest; they’d seen enough.  Jim Campbell, our surveyor, saw the whole thing.  He was sweet saying that anytime you come in without damage, its good.  Similar to my flight instructor who said anytime you can walk away from a landing, its good. 

We came out of the water about 7:50; Jim did his work, we paid him for his time and effort and we were back in the water by 9:15.  We had to back tract to refuel but we were on the road again (so to speak) by 10. 

Our journey south wasn’t a miserable day but it wasn’t a chamber of commerce one either.  It was overcast, dreary and cold all day.  However, it kept a lot of boaters off the ICW.  There were a few and generally most were polite as they approached us and slowed to knock down their wakes that can give us a nasty rocking. 

As luck would have it, I was at the helm when we went through the Mantasas Cut.  This is an area that has notoriously shifting sands.  They actually keep a dredge permanently anchored there.  Today was no exception.  However, today, they were actually working in the channel which required some serious navigation to get through.  Dale was standing by my side as we heard the boat ahead of us asking for directions.  We followed behind him until he did a complete 180 and started heading back towards us.  A voice on the radio called to us and said to stay put until the little boat leading the one ahead of us returned and then we were to follow him.  OK, I can do that. 

When it did return, a man came out on the deck and motioned for us to come towards him.  I was concerned that we were going to hit him as our boat doesn’t exactly stop on a dime.  He then gunned the engine forward and he again motioned for us to follow.   This forced us to do a hairpin turn, which appeared to take us back out but then he cut back in within feet of the dredger before doing another hairpin turn in front of the dredger.  I grant you, we got through without mishap but man, what a serpentine route!  You’d never get through that on your own.  There were 3 more dredgers along that strip but thankfully, it was Dale’s turn.  He was fortunate that 2 were anchored and the last one was clearly on one side of the channel. 

The remaining part of the day was spent staying in the obscenely narrow channel for such a wide expanse of water making steady progress south.  In fact, originally we had hoped to make Daytona Beach before dark.  We actually got there by 4pm, so we elected to continue on to New Symrna Beach.  Dale picked out an anchorage from a book we have on such information, and when we reached it, had only 2 boats in it.  We anchored in the center and backed down.  We got the sharp tug that indicates we’re well set and started to settle in.  Within 5 minutes, it became clear why there were only 2 boats here.  We were in a cut between the ICW and the beach which caused us to swing 180* on a regular basis.  We guessed the other boats had thrown out a stern anchor to keep them into the current but what happens when the tide turns?  Dale didn’t want to chance fouling two anchors.  As we plan to be underway at first light, we elected to let out more chain, roll up the side curtains to our enclosure to lessen the wind factor and keep checking.  It did seem to help.  We kept a close watch for about an hour and a half until sunset and appeared to be doing well.  Since sunset, it seems to have settled even more.  Every once in a while, we’ll feel the tug on the anchor and Dale jumps up to go check again. 

Let’s hope we have an uneventful night.  Every time, something happens, Dale is quick to say “Well, its something for your blog!”  Please!  Some things I don’t need to experience.

October 31, 2019
St. Augustine
30.14.35 N
81.39.31 W

Morning came early but not as early as a “sparrow’s fart” due in part to the fact that the Main Street Bridge (one of the 6 Jacksonville bridges we have to transit under) doesn’t open between 7:30 and 8:30am during work days.  Being a rather bright individual, Dale took that to mean, sleeping in to 7 am before waking the wifely beast.  (I ease into a morning--not bound out of bed ready to attack the day). 

As he singled up lines, disconnected the electrical cable and secured the remaining fenders, I grabbed the deck brush and started the routine of using the heavy dew to give a quick sweep across the deck.  (Look at me with all my nautical terms).  This uses free water to give the boat a little bath; or at least smears the dust around so it looks a little cleaner. 

Saying Goodbye to NAS Jax

 We got underway from NAS Jax at 8:39am and is our habit, I brought the Palace out of her slip and handed off to Dale once he had put the lines away.  Its amazing what you forget in a year.  We have plotted routes in our chartplotter for our usual course up the River.  Once you make it to the first waypoint, generally, its only a matter of engaging the route to make the boat do the work; you just keep a sharp lookout and monitor the progress.  Dale ended up hand steering most of the way past the base before I managed to get the route to engage properly.  Its just a series of 3 keys strokes but they are keys strokes that must be pushed in the right order to make it work!

 We passed through the Jacksonville metro area by 10am, being fortunate to catch an outgoing tide, and made good progress all the way to the turn east toward Mayport.  As we approached the Dames Point Bridge, Dale handed off to me for my shift.  As fate would have it, the St. Johns River is being deepened to allow the larger cruise ship traffic to enter into the expanding commercial area.  The first working crane I came to was afloat on a barge, with its two accompanying tugs square in the middle of the channel; its attending barge and tug to carry the refuse away was anchored out of the channel but still close enough to keep and eye on.  No auto pilot here!  I passed to the north of it as it appeared to have more room (and I had seen two other boats go to that side).  The second crane with its two tugs was more to the north side but its attending refuse barge and tug were on the move, so I zig-zagged to the south side of the channel.   I could see 2 more cranes lay beyond that one.  Dale came up, took one look and decided he had better take over again.  I pointed out that I had already gone around one but since he volunteered, go for it!  The radio was crackling out alerts to various sport fishers to slow down as they had divers in the water around the barges.  At least I hadn’t received one of those warnings. 

 We turned off the River and onto the ICW (Intercoastal Waterway) continuing south through where the rich folk live; yes Rick, that means you (the house is beautiful by the way).  It was high tide, a fairly narrow channel and beautiful landscaping the whole way.  I didn’t mind being at the helm as much as I usually do during this leg; it was daylight, it was deep and it was a weekday, so the fishermen were working and not darting about in their boats.  Looks like a lot of the owners took their insurance money from Irma to enlarge their estates or sold to someone else that enlarged their estates.  Gorgeous homes. 

St. Augustine Lighthouse

It was Dale’s turn at the helm again as we approached the Velano Bridge.  He started to worry that we wouldn’t make our destination of St. Augustine Marine by sundown.  I pointed out a shower we could see in the distance which really added to the pucker power.  As it turned out, we only waited at the Bridge of Lions for 10 minutes for the 6pm opening, was tied up and connected to power with the AC cooling by 7.  A long day regardless, with another scheduled for tomorrow.  We have a haul out at 7:30am for our out of water survey.  I would guess that it shouldn’t take more than an hour or two but we will see. 



Until then, Happy Halloween!

We Miss You Guys!

October 30, 2019

NAS Jax
30.14.35N
81.39.31W

Well, its official!  We’re on the boat.  The first night in almost a year.  The last couple of days have been spent unloading our pantry, refrigerator and freezer and reloading everything onto the boat and put away.  What didn’t fit, got tossed; no need to go grocery shopping after all and no need to pre-make casseroles as we’re not on vacation but actually living aboard; different mind set.  Dale has been very understanding but at one point told me that I couldn’t put the entire house on the boat.  Yes, I can.  This is going to be our home for the next couple of years so  . . .

Geri our friend for about 30 years will be housesitting for us and agreed to drive us to the boat after we did our walk around and a quick introduction to the neighbors.  She tooted the horn as she dropped us off at our slip and I had one of those anxious moments wondering why I wasn’t more excited.  Sheer exhaustion is probably the main reason.  


Once on the boat, I made the bed (something between boat yoga and bear wrestling) as Dale transferred a couple of our hurricane fenders to a dock mate who had shown an interest in them.  That last load of supplies is still sitting on the salon floor waiting for a permanent home but it will have to wait.  I can already tell that I’m going to be rearranging things for awhile until it feels right.  


Tomorrow the big adventure begins.  Dale says the weather isn’t looking good for an ocean transit which means the Intercoastal.  I’m not fond of that particular route as there’s usually more than a few bubba’s hauling buns for the local fishing holes rocking us violently on a very narrow and in some spots shallow, channel. 

October 20, 2019

Forgive me dear reader, it’s be over a month since my last posting.  I could say that we’ve been busy getting ready, but that would be an understatement.
  
We spent the better part of September visiting family across the nation thanks in part to our youngest son delivering a gut punch of guilt saying our grandchildren wouldn’t know who we were on our return.  So what was supposed to be a quick trip to Texas for my mother’s 90^th birthday, ended up being a trip to see most of the kids and grandkids.  

Attic Yoga

We started by driving to Houston to deliver some appliances we had in storage we figured our daughter could use, as well as a basket of all of the birthday and Christmas cards to everyone over the next two years for her to send out for us.  Once there, she had a short list of daddy-do’s (as opposed to honey-do’s) that we thought we could tackle during our quick visit.  We set about checking off each item.  At one point, Dale said that he had traded boat yoga for attic yoga as we insulated her attic with radiant barrier in an effort to keep her house more comfortable and her electric bills more manageable.  As you can see, the tin man would have been very comfortable here when we were finished.

The only mishap came when she climbed up to help and promptly fell through the ceiling catching herself by her elbows across the rafters.  I learned that as her mother, I was only vaguely aware of the salty language she was capable of prior to this incident but got a full run down of her complete repertoire as soon as it happened--and for some time afterward.  Of course, Dale and I tried to assist in bodily pulling her back up from her precarious predicament but found ourselves fighting disparately not to dissolve into giggles over the whole mess.  After we raised her to the attic level and made sure there were no broken bones, I checked to see where she would have landed.  The closest I can figure, she would have fallen only about 2 feet to the hot water heater below but I’m sure she would not have landed on the flat surface but instead on one of the several PVC pipes and most likely puncturing a foot in the process.  Although she would have argued it at the time, she’s probably better off covered in bruises instead. 

Next, we traveled to Ft. Worth to celebrate my mother’s 90^th birthday.  Mom being Mom had already ferreted out the surprise portion of the party and came early to greet her revelers.  The invitation I received said that it was supposed to be a 20’s costume party, so Dale and I came appropriately attired.  Except for my sisters and us, most others must not have received the same invitation.  It didn’t matter, we had fun shaking our tassels or flinging our feathers.  Before you go too crazy, I’m a feather flinger not a tassel shaker.  I have to remind Dale that at our age, he’s lucky I’m flinging any feather.

Happy 15th Alayna

Then, it was on to California to see the boys and their families.  We were just in time to wish Alayna, one of our granddaughters, a happy 15^th birthday and to catch the girls in their various after school sports.  Hunter was home from college for the weekend, so we all got to catch up with the whole family over some well deserved ice cream.  

Then it was on to China Lake where our youngest son had taken the day off to go dune buggy riding with his own son, Aidan, and Dale.  I guess it was a 3 generation attack on the desert.  His wife, Stephanie, granddaughter Adrianna, the baby, Alistair, and I spent the day creating Halloween decorations.  That was a 3 generation attack on JoAnn’s.  Then a midnight flight home to continue with our boat preps first thing in the morning.  


Since then, Dale has cleaned out the garage, rearranged the storage area, hoisted our asymmetrical sail, reattached my newly designed side shade panels, reattached the grill (with its new cover), refurbished and reinstalled the camber spar (with its new sail cover), changed the oil in the outboard engine for the dinghy, ordered a spare prop for the dinghy, repaired the dinghy dodger attachment points (the cover now has zippers for easy removal to wash), changed the oil, fuel filters, and impellers in both main engines, replaced the cable clamps on the steering cables to both engines, purchased satellite minutes for the phone he installed, chased and cleaned all of the wires for the Single Side Band Radio and although he can hear much more clearly, he still cannot determine whether he’s transmitting or not.  He consulted a professional who suggested that he try again once we leave the base; too many antennas and security protocols to ascertain whether he’s truly transmitting or not.  Half the time, we can’t get a decent telephone call through, so it doesn’t surprise me.  

He’s downloaded charts, weather software and subscribed to weather information services.  My sister-in-law, teased that most people have a cup of coffee the first thing each morning, Dale checks the weather.  


I’m positive every single electronic device on our boat has its own GPS signal and antenna.  A friend of mine said that with the antenna array we have on the back arch, she thought we’d be able to contact the Space Station easier than the guy down the dock.  


Besides sewing, I’ve renewed passports, military IDs, and drivers’ licenses.  We’ve filed for Social Security and Medicare (it’s only taken 4 months to finally get that all straightened out).  I’ve renewed registrations on the boats for the entire time we’ll be traveling and the cars that will be in storage.  I’ve cancelled most subscriptions and arranged for whatever bills remain to be sent to us electronically and cancelled all the rest.  I’ve updated our EPIRB information and requested next year’s Customs and Border decal. Today we went in and requested our absentee ballots be forwarded to us.  


Thinking that I had covered all the bases (or at least had calendared them), I really scrambled when the mail came with a notice to renew our boat’s documentation through the Coast Guard.  Since I have saved all such links on my computer, I just hit the one I had previously used, filled out the information and hit send.  There was something about the confirmation that caught my attention; it didn’t say government anywhere.  Sure enough, when I called our credit card company, they told me that third parties can now remotely change your saved links, so that when you click the link, thinking you’re going to one site, it actually redirects you to another; theirs!  What’s really frightening is that it looked legitimate.   First robo-calls, now this!  I was fried!!  Probably more at myself for not catching it than anything else.  


Of course, through all of this we try to spend time with our friends before we leave, so we have lunches or dinners every other day at the local restaurants which leaves me trying disparately to ignore my expanding waistline.  When I had to sort through which clothes I wanted to take on the trip, I tried on everything to make sure I could at least zip up the pants to determine whether or not it would fit on me prior to deciding whether it would fit on the boat.  Bathing suits I relegated to a box.  There’s too much violence in the world for me to be trying on bathing suits at this point and risk the possibility of going postal.  The neighborhood is a safer place without that misstep.  Dale kept a wide berth; probably a good idea as he appears to be losing weight throughout this ordeal.  


Dale’s colleagues from work dropped by for the nickel tour last evening, so we had to put everything still cluttering the counters and floor from our various projects away.  Now the big push is to empty the boxes, bags, piles and collections throughout the house and actually load them onto the boat without messing it up.  A challenge to be sure!  We still have the in-water insurance survey to complete on Monday but as long as I have a place for everything as we take it down, I think we’ll be able to access all the parts and places without drama.  Once that portion of the survey is completed, we’ll have a day and a half to finish loading up prior to taking off early Thursday morning to make it to St. Augustine for the out-of-water portion of the survey on Friday of next week.  That leaves me tomorrow and the weekend to grocery shop and pre-prepare meals that can be frozen or eaten on the go.  Wish me luck!   

September 8, 2019

I'll bet you've been wondering where we've disappeared to.  Well, let's see where we left off.  Oh yes!  Through Ancestry we had made a connection to Dale's father's side of the family and due to a red light spotted in the garage, he was on his way to yet another project in the house before he continued on his journey to making our boat the best that it can be.

As luck would have it, on the family front, his cousin Ken called one day and introduced us to his brother, James, who we had a nice conversation with.  We concluded that there was yet another cousin named Alice who kept up with such things and might possibly have a photo of his father.  A few e-mails back and forth and Eureka!! She did!  Not only did she have a photo, she sent it to us.  We didn't even wait to open it in the house.

Years ago when I first married Dale, his mother had shown me a small unfocused snapshot of his father standing by a car.  My recollection was that Dale's sister Terri favored him but I didn't see any resemblance to Dale.  The photo that Alice sent us was a large professional black and white shot of him.  It was sharp and clear.  Undeniably, Terri looked exactly like him.  Now - I could see that Dale had his nose and possibly his eyes (although the entire family claims that Dale has his mother's eyes).  It was an odd feeling trying to peer through the years to make a connection.  Alice also sent a note with some information about his father, along with a memory of her meeting Dale when he was a toddler.  I found the note as precious as the photo.  I'm sure once Dale has a chance to sit for more than 5 minutes without falling asleep from sheer exhaustion, there's another telephone call in the future.

Forward cabin

On the house front, Dale was right,  There was something wrong with the water heater.  A quick service call later, a faulty sensor was replaced, the red light went out and Dale was free to dig out his table saw and go to work recreating a new overhead for the forward cabin.  Once he was done with the wood portion, I went to work covering one side with headliner material and the other side with insulation, we installed it with hardly any salty language, the porthole was rebedded, trim pieces added and we proclaimed the front cabin complete. Now Dale can put all his tools, spare parts, bits and bobs for fixing things in cupboards without storing things in boxes and bags on the bunk and rifling through every last one of them for something he needs - right now! - or worse yet, going out to buy 2 more because he can't find the one he's looking for.   I'm happy with the result. 

"Library"

I'm sure, if you're adept at reading between the lines, there is the possibility that I may offer random thoughts to my Tweaker-in-Chief for his opinion on whether the effort required is worth the net gain in the end.  Some of these random thoughts are about what I want to do but his assistance is needed in clearing a path.  Such as: I knew he had plans to run cable for a new satellite telephone through the aft cabin which necessitated tearing it apart to do so.  My observation was, once the forward cabin was completed, the aft cabin showed its age, so why not take advantage of it being completely torn apart to re-carpet it too.  My daughter and I had already re-carpeted one side of the boat 2 years ago, so the only parts not rejuvenated at this point was the aft cabin and what I affectionally call the library (its a small area at the base of a couple of steps that has shelves holding our logs and cruising guides) and low and behold, it had a broken board.  Dang! That probably should be repaired as its only going to get worse over the next two years.  And since you have to fix that board, why don't you take out all the rest and I'll re-carpet behind them as well.   OK, maybe I added a week to our list of things to do, but the boat looks great now and he was going to tear up that cabin anyway.

Aft cabin

I did make it up to him though.  Some of the things on his list, I either did myself (organizing all of the various nuts, bolts, screws, washers, O-rings, hose clamps, etc., into a case for hardware and a case for plumbing.  Each of these cases contained individual boxes which separated its contents according to width, length, thread size, circumference, or what looked like the same gizmo) or I hired it out (he was going to open up the stairs on both sides to access some void areas and he was going to put sliders in a cabinet underneath the chart table for me to put my cooking supplies in like salt, pepper, sugar, flour, spices, etc.)  The guy I hired came with specialized tools and opened up the stairs and added the sliders in a couple of hours. I made him promise to never show those tools to Dale as the boat was already starting to list in that direction.  He'll come back later this week to finish putting in the floors for the accessed areas.  So I think I saved Dale a week there.

During all of this commotion, Dale gets a message on his cell from a woman named Cindy, not only calling him by name but "dear," wanting to get together for dinner if he's available.  Normally, I, like most women, would have my "Spidey senses" going into hyper overdrive except that he's having me listen to the voice message and asking if, first, can I understand what's being said and second, have any idea who it might be.  It took a couple of replays, but my first impression turned out to be exactly who I thought it was. However, it took a call to Robbie, his sister in Oregon to confirm that yes, Cindy, his sister Terri's best friend in California, now lived in Florida and had called a few days earlier to get his phone number.  Whew!  OK, now he felt it safe to return the call.  We made arrangements to meet Cindy and her husband, Larry, the following day and had a great time catching up on the 13 or so years that had lapsed since we last saw her.


Now, back to work!  Dale had seen that a couple of engine mounts on our generator were showing signs of age and rust and thought it best to swap them out before we leave.  NexGen, the generator maker, just happens to be located in Jacksonville, so we made a short trip north to drop in on them to pick up 4 replacements (since you might as well change them all if you have to change 2).  They were great and really knew their stuff.  Dale explained what we were doing and our big plans to travel.  They made suggestions as to what specialty spare parts he might want to consider taking with him in case of emergency and offered that the beauty of their design was that most parts could be replaced easily at any hardware store.  Then, we were off and running.

If you've seen the movie "Martian" then you know where the line "science the shit out of it" comes from.  Dale was trying to prepare the removal and replacement of the generator engine mounts ahead of his buddy, Gerry (aka Tinkering Consultant,) arriving in town from Tasmania.  The last time these guys "scienced" things, Gerry had arranged various halyards, hoists, pullies, and frames to remove and replace his entire generator out of the cockpit, down the side of his boat to the bow, across to the finger pier and onto the dock.  Once done, the new one came off a handcart dolly on the dock, to the bow of his boat, down the side of the boat and into the cockpit where they would partially disassemble it in order to move it into where it belonged and then reassemble it in place.

The Tweaker-in-Chief was not to be outdone.  He made a frame to center the spinaker halyard over the tiny opening (as in no room to move) prior to it being lowered into the hole where the generator lived.  Chains would be attached to the generator and a pully attached to the side of the boat to keep it all centered as it was being raised.  One would crawl into the hole with the generator, it would be hoisted a few inches, and then whoever was in the hole would remove and replace the 4 engine mounts.  Sounds simple enough, right?

Gerry arrived, we picked him up at the airport, let him sleep off a bit of jetlag and then made our way to the boat on what happened to be one of the hottest days in Florida.  Temps were in the high 90s with the heat index well over 100.  Dale went into the hole, Gerry positioned the frame, I lowered the halyard from the cockpit and we tried to raise it.  Oops, something wasn't allowing it to move, he wants to take off a hose.  Dale yells, Gerry relays, I go running for the right size wrench, and after a bit, we start the same procedure again.  All stop! This time its me, I yell to Gerry, he translates to Dale and Dale looks for what's holding up progress again.  This time he thinks its a busbar of little color coded electrical cables.  Dale yells, Gerry relays, I go running for a cellphone to take photos of the color coded cables and his entire tool kit - as my mother didn't raise no fool - and bottles of water as we're all pouring sweat by this time.  While the guys are trying to sort out the cables, I head out to the car for a couple of umbrellas and cable tie them to the lifelines in an effort to keep some of the heat from beating down on them.  Then I run an extension cord out so they can plug in a portable fan.  We try again.  This time Dale is able to see that we don't have 4 engine mounts, we have 8. Four inside holding the generator to the sound enclosure, 4 underneath the sound enclosure holding it to the hull with 2 metal slats holding the sound enclosure to the 4 below and all 8 mounts are a corroded mess and need to be replaced.

Dale's getting dizzy, so Gerry goes into the hole and tries to get to the various mounts.  Its becoming clear that they are going to have to remove the generator and sound enclosure in order to access all of the mounts.  They first try to lift the whole package up as one, then they decide to separate one from another and take them completely out of the hole to work on.  That means removing all the hoses, connections, vents, cables, everything! No easy task and it seems as if it is getting hotter.



They take turns in the hole and at each change of shift, I alternate water with Gatoraide for each.  During one of the breaks, we discuss whether a tarp I keep in the car might provide some needed shade.  While they keep taking turns in the hole, I jerry-rig the tarp over their heads connecting it to whatever I can find with whatever I can find.  They say the tarp helps funnel what little wind there is through their work area and is helping.  They move the fan to inside the hole.

After much salty language, they finally get the generator disconnected and we begin to hoist it out of the hole until the torque on the winch is more than I can muscle through.  Gerry and I change places and he is able to power through the last turns to get the monster out of the hole and onto the deck.  We cover the dang thing up and call it a day.  We're all exhausted.

The next day is even hotter.  We start with the trip to NexGen for the 4 additional engine mounts and since, they are going to take it out of the hole completely, they might as well take the opportunity to change the V-belt and impeller.  In the process, we lose Gerry within their walls.  He's in hog heaven.  They tell him a couple of "secrets" to changing various belts and had no problem answering all of his technical questions.  We swing by the local West Marine to pick up vent and water hoses (because as long as its out, you might was well change these too) and head back to the boat.

Dale in the Hole

While the Tinker Twins discussed their plan of attack, I hung the tarp again.  This time I ran a line from forestay to standing rigging pushing it up as high as I could reach and then using tent clips, from lifelines to the camber spar cover.  In other words, I pitched a tent over their entire work area.  It catches the breeze and is high enough not to rest on their heads.  Again, they take turns working in the hole trying to loosen the stubborn sound enclosure with penetrating oil, salty language and the occasional swing of a hammer.

Finally, they are able to dislodge the final screw/bolt to find that the two metal bars connecting the lower engine mounts to the hull and sound enclosure had corroded almost to the breaking point.  It was a good thing they had taken the time to break the whole thing down to parade rest to find all of the problems, as we would have been hard pressed to find replacements in some of the countries we'll be visiting when it broke during transit; and, there was no doubt, it would have broken.  As it was, unless NexGen happened to carry the bars, it would be a custom aluminum fabrication.

Luck was with us on the next blistering day and our 3rd trip to NexGen had us walking out with 2 shiny new aluminum bars with holes predrilled to the exact size.  I pitched my tent again and then watched as they reassembled everything back together.  It seemed rather simple from my perspective.  They were like two surgeons hovering over their patient:  "A #13 wrench" "A #9 socket."  Soon they were ready to move their patient to recovery; new water hoses pre-attached and dangling, new vent hoses standing by, screwdriver, wrenches, and socket sets all neatly laid out in front, and by mid afternoon we were carefully hoisting it back up and millimeter by millimeter lowering it into position.  Another flurry of exchanging tools back and forth and then . . . where's that picture of the color coded wires?  My duty as scrub nurse had me running for the cell phone, locating the photo, enlarging the details as much as possible and then handing the phone down into the hole.



             




[The sound of crickets.]

Although the Tweaker-in-Chief /Head Surgeon had thought to take the photo, he hadn't thought to label each wire.  Process of elimination only takes you so far, then you have to dig out the wiring diagram and your multimeter.  Once the various selections were made, I was instructed to stand by inside the boat turning the main power switch on/off and then various other little switches as instructed but I was to be quick to flip it off at a moments notice.  Keep in mind that the main power switch is located deep inside a cabinet and all the other switches are located on the outside of the cabinet.  OK.  Ready!  Main power on. Check.  Main power off, check.  Main power on, check. OK, now try to start the genset.  It starts!!  No arcs; no explosions. Success!  Everyone loves it when a plan comes together.  The Tweaker-in-Chief and Tinkering Consultant are patting each other on the back and in general, yucking it up, having a grand 'ol time.  They let it run for a period of time and then instructed me to shut it down.  I no sooner touch the toggle than they are both screaming and yelling stop! stop! stop!  Shut down the main power!  Alright, already!  I dang near punctured a lung trying to get back into that cabinet.

The Tinker Twins

After a short, but intense interrogation, they conclude that I did not hit the wrong switch but that one of the wires isn't in the right spot.  They consult the wiring diagram again and then, in an act of desperation, agree to call NexGen for their thoughts on the matter.  One of the first clues comes about after NexGen reviews the photo of the wires we text to them.  There shouldn't be an orange wire!  Someone, somewhere had worked on the genset before and used unauthorized colors!  They can't instruct with any certainty now, but offer a few suggestions.  The Tinker Twins go to work tracking down the problem.  Yep sure enough, wires coming out of the boat change colors (there's a splice in them covered within a run) before entering the generator.  Once the Twins figure that out, they are able with the multimeter to connect them to the proper spot and we test it again.  This time it starts and stops as intended.  Also, this time the celebration is decidedly more reserved with a contented sigh of relief.

A project that started out as needing a day, maybe two, has now taken the better part of a week to complete and Gerry has his own boat in Ft. Pierce to work on.  In fact, he has two massive electric winches to install and Dale has promised to assist when Gerry has everything on board and "scienced" out.  

There's a hurricane named Dorian churning in the Caribbean when Dale gets the call to head on down; I stay behind to work on some of my sewing projects.  I guess because Florida has suffered greatly from two glancing blows and one massive hit in recent years, we all keep a serious eye on what looks to be coming our way.  Its not looking good, so I start moving flower pots, my lotus sitting frog, and other tastefully silly statuary in the yard onto the patio.  I fill up every gas can we have and top off my truck.  The guys are able to get the two winches installed in a couple of days and Dale stays an extra day to help Gerry prepare his boat.  Canvas is taken down, lines are extended and doubled up, dorades are stuffed, hatches taped and once Gerry's 52' boat is secured in a "spider web" of lines, fenders and fender boards, Dale heads back to do the same to ours.

I think this is the 4th time we've had to secure this particular boat for an impending storm.  As we're a catamaran, insurance dictates that we secure ourselves in a marina, preferably with floating docks.  We know what to do.  However, its the first time that we've done it together.  In years past, I've had the luxury of going to the marina early and would strip it myself, just piling everything inside.  Then Dale would swing by after work and tweak everything I had done; adding a line here, tightening or retying a knot there, adjusting or adding fenders.  We've been fortunate.  We've seen literally a dozen or more boats sink within our marina or wash up on its shore; its not a pretty sight.  We've watched as our dock mates tried to salvage their personal belongings once the boat is declared a total loss and it's heartbreaking.  We know that our marina on base hasn't been repaired since Irma 3 years ago (Congress moves slowly), leaving the two piers most exposed to the river, unusable.  We are vulnerable to a south wind.

Ready for Dorian

Dale returns and we decide that this time, we'll store everything at home.  We swing by our storage unit and pick up our storm lines, chains and oversized fenders and head to the boat to secure it as best we can.  Canvas is loaded into my truck, portable electronics are collected and taken off and we set about adding fenders, doubling lines, adding snubbers (a type of shock absorber), lowering the dink to below our back transom height, removing the captain's chair, and this time adding a chain to the dock itself since our most forward cleat on the dock is weak.  Dale repaired it with steel brackets to reinforce the split wood when it became obvious the marina wasn't going to be repaired anytime soon after Irma.  We text a photo of our handiwork to Gerry who in turn, teases us that if the finger pier breaks this time, we'll float down the river taking the pier with us.

The next day the forecast predicts Dorian hitting south Florida, right about where Gerry is, heading inland and then straight up the center of Florida maintaining hurricane strength winds all the way to us.  The strongest winds on the upper right side of the hurricane would be coming out of the south.

This time when we go to the boat, we take off most of our clothing and personal belongings, Dale's tools and all of our pantry items.  Dale adds another line.  Our dock mates a couple of slips down want to turn their boat around within their slip, so we offer a hand and Dale shows them how he added a chain to the dock in the event the cleat gives way.  They don't have any solid cleats where they are.

When we get home, Dale moves all of our outdoor furniture and some of the plants on the patio closer to the house.  He cuts down a dead tree in the preserve behind our house that is already tilted in our direction.  No time to ask permission at this point.  We call Gerry and plead with him to please come stay with us or at the very least get off the boat should the water crest the finger pier.  He sounds depressed and says that if he loses the boat, he's going to collect the insurance money, go home to Tasmania and back to work.  What can we say?  We're thinking we're going to lose our boat too and Dale had already started talking about a Plan B.  After all the time, work and money we've put into this boat, my Plan B is to wallow in my misery and never lift another deck brush again.

The next day, Dorian is predicted to slow and turn north moving farther to the east; a glimmer of hope.  The base announces that it will be closing at 2 pm and not opening again until after the hurricane passes.  Our last trip, so we take a few more things that can't be replaced should they get wet.  With each weather update, hope slowly creeps back into our hearts.  We start thinking we might not get a direct hit after all; we have a fighting chance and might still go on our big adventure.  We notice that our dock mates not only took Dale's suggestion about the chain to the dock but actually stretched their lines across to chain to the opposite side of us.  If things get rough, there will be a tug of war over the finger pier.  When we return home, Dale starts polishing the Isenglass windows within the canvas for something to do other than watch the painfully slow progress of the killer storm on TV.  I sew, tear it out and stitch again.  My machine is acting up.  Why now?  Gerry has found a safe place to stay, close to his boat, but not actually on it.  We can live with that; so can he.  He tells us that the water has risen to just beneath the finger pier and there are gale force winds buffeting his boat causing it to list but still riding well within the cobweb.

At last, Dorian passes to the east of us and we get no more than heavy rains and thunderstorms off and on throughout the day.  We don't even lose power.  Sadly, we still have to adjust our original plan.  Our beloved Abacos are utterly destroyed and will take years to bounce back.  Except for when we were sailing in the Caribbean in 2005 - 2006, we've spent our summer vacations there each year since 2000.  We've taken 2 of our children, 7 of our 12 grandchildren, dear friends and extended relatives there to share our love of sailing and the joy we get from visiting the islands where we can be at the hottest party in town on Sunday or anchored in the lagoon of an uninhabited island on Monday.  We had planned on passing through them one last time when we leave in November, but it looks like we'll have to adjust our plans and transit south to Miami and then across to Cat Cay as we did back in 2005.  At this point, we're still going and on our own boat.

There's another storm brewing in the South Atlantic so we've elected to leave everything here at the house instead of putting it back on the boat, in case we have to go through all of this again in a couple of weeks.  Hurricane season is over in November.  I can step over all of the bags and boxes that clutter my house until then.  My dining room is a sail loft and the rest of the house is half boat.  If you come for a visit, between now and November, bring a grappling hook; you may need it to get through the front door.

Gerry came back up this past weekend to help Dale run the cables for the new satellite telephone.  They were having problems getting the software to connect and load, so on the drive back to Ft. Pierce, Gerry thought of another possibility and called.  Dale had already resolved that particular problem but had moved on to another and started talking about GPS wiring, I couldn't help but smile when I heard them discussing whether it was a blue wire or a green one connected to the back.  I can't wait until they start tweaking their single side band radios and begin pondering frequencies and copper strapping formulas.