So, This Is It!

A week has gone by since we moved the boat down from Gratitude/Rock Hall.  We've been on the boat for a week and I've gotta admit, it has been nothing like I expected.  Actually I don't know what I expected.  For years I've wanted to live on a boat, dreamed about it and now we're doing it.  It feels so natural it already seems like we've been doing it for years.

Monday through Thursday we're on a pretty tight schedule because we both commute.  We tried riding together but Cheri has a longer commute than me and she was getting stuck in rush hour traffic on the Washington beltway so we bailed on that idea.  It takes her 45 minutes to get to her office in Silver Spring so she leaves the boat at 0530.  It takes me about 30 minutes to get to Greenbelt so I hang around until 0600.  I get back later than she does, about 1830 and by the time we clean up from dinner and get lunches made for the next day it's time to go to bed.  This is the sacrifice for working 4 tens.

I gotta admit that the first 3 days were difficult.  We were both trying to adjust to new schedules, a new way of life.  Despite what you might think, the change in living space didn't really seem to affect us.  We went from a house with over 3700 sq. ft. to a boat with what, maybe 300 or 400 sq. ft. of living space and when it's put into numbers it sounds like Yikes! how can you do that?  It's actually very comfortable.  Our aches and pains came more from the problems with the commute.  Once we decided to drive in seperately things settled into a more comfortable routine and all the grrrr disappeared.  At least for now.

One of the coolest parts of the day is what most folks would probably think is the biggest pain in the butt.  We're using the marina facilities for taking showers and this requires quite a hike to and from.  The bathrooms are private, single occupancy, with a shower, sink and toilet and plenty of room and they're kept very clean.  They also have heat and A/C.  Nice!  Our dock extends out from the shore quite a ways and crosses a tidal marsh before getting to the boat slips.  It humps up over the marsh and there's a spot in the middle where you can sit and watch the critters all around you.  This makes that long walk worthwhile.  We've seen a humongous snapping turtle and a very busy muskrat.  Yesterday morning I saw a Great Blue Heron flying along the shore about 12" off the water.  It swooped up over the dock and dropped back down on the other side, coming to a halt about 20' beyond, up to his knees in water.  It just stood there for a while, completely motionless and then jabbed it's long beak into the water and came up with a critter, probably a frog or something.  I watched it for a few more minutes before heading back to the boat.  The marina grounds are manicured, park-like, with brick paths winding through nice old overhanging trees.  The docks are wide and well built with long finger piers, making access to the boat comfortable.  The tops of the pilings aren't just cut off and capped.  They're rounded, giving them a nice worn-down look like they've been there for a hundred years.  Nice detail.  It's a beautiful spot, as nice as any resort we've been to.  I think we can probably do this OK for the next four years.

The reason for doing the 4 day grind is so we can have 3 day weekends.  Woohoooo!  It is defintely worth it. This past Friday we slept in for the first time in about 3 months.  We had intended to go out for a sail but stayed in and worked around the boat.  Cheri spent time organizing the aft cabin, which until now has been the garage.  Her grandson Jack will be coming to stay with us in about 10 days so it was time to get his quarters prepped for his arrival.  While she did that I worked up in the cockpit rebuilding one of the winches.

We have ten winches on board of various sizes, used for raising and adjusting the sails.  On our cruise down from Rock Hall it became apparent that the big ones, Lewmar 54's, self-tailing, two speed types, were in desperate need of attention.  The effort required to sheet in the genoa was enough to make your arms ache.  This sailing stuff is supposed to be fun, not laborious.  The 54's are fairly large and heavy but they're designed to come apart easily.  The top plate unscrews by hand with only a light tap from a large screwdriver to get it started.  Underneath that are two retaining collets holding in the main shaft, all of which are easily removed by hand.  Next the drum comes off, which on a 54 is pretty heavy.  I had to use my trusty oversized screwdriver as a lever under the bottom edge to pry it up, but once it broke loose it only required a few grunts and groans to make it sound like I was doing manly work.  With the drum off, the guts of the winch are exposed and here I discovered the source of my problems.  Actually source-ez.  First, there was sooooo much grease on this thing it was disgusting.  There were huge globs of it on everything.  No wonder I couldn't lift the drum off, it was held on by suction!  The manual says to "lightly lube the bearings".  Nowhere in there does it say to encase them in 20 pounds of grease.  Someone just went nuts here with the old adage about "if some is good then more is better".  I think that might apply to chocolate or sex or maybe to peanut butter to some extent but not grease and winches.  This was rediculous.  The second part of the problem was sawdust.  Before we bought the boat, the previous owners refinished the topsides teak to dress up the boat for potential buyers.  They apparently sanded it all down but did nothing to protect the innards of the winches.  The sawdust got in there and mixed with the 20 pounds of grease to make a heavy paste.  The motion of the gears worked to mix it all up and evenly distribute it.  I spent three hours cleaning the crud from the inner bearings and gears.  What a mess!  On reassembly I "lightly" lubed the bearings and contact areas of the gears and I feel confident the total weight of the winch was reduced by at least 27%.  Egads.  One down, nine to go.  Of course, this is a learning experience and the rest of them should go much quicker now that I'm familiar with what I'm up against.

I'd say at least 45 minutes of the three hour rebuild was spent in conversation with neighbors, which is apparently something you can't avoid if you're sitting in the cockpit while the boat is in the slip.  We are blessed with some really great neighbors, several who have been living aboard for many years.  There is a wealth of knowledge within 100' of my cockpit and I plan to take advantage of it.  While I was tearing into my winch I eavesdropped on the group at the boat straight across from us.  There was a detailed discussion about Amazon parrots going on for over an hour when all of a sudden they realized that I was working on a project and needed some assistance.  The guys came over and we talked about this and that for a bit.  I picked up some really good pointers when the conversation drifted over to what I was doing.  The #1 best idea I heard was to take a turkey basting pan and cut out a hole in the bottom so it fits over the winch and then tape it all around so nothing can fall through.  This gives you a nice sized walled enclosure to work in that'll contain any flying springs and widgets.  Great idea!  They also suggested moving all my parts off the cockpit coaming because there's some universal law about boats in constant motion and small parts being attracted to water.  Or something like that.  That science stuff always goes over my head.

Saturday we slept in again, goofed around for a while and then went out for a sail.  This is the life!  It was a beautiful day, low 70's, nice wind too, between 12 and 15 knots.  I have a habit of heading out and not planning our trip beyond saying "let's go here for the day".  This drives my Project Manager wife nuts.  It also shows it's shortcomings when you get out in the middle of the Bay on a hazy day and then can't find your way back home.  Twice I've sailed up the wrong river, South instead of West, because I didn't look at the charts, or the compass, and just kinda winged it.  It does make for a longer sail which prolongs the whole pleasure thing but we're not gonna focus on that.  This time I sat down and planned out our sail almost the entire way out and back.  I say almost because I wasn't really sure how far into the Choptank River we'd get so I only mapped it out to the entrance.  I wrote down compass readings to take us from one marker to the next, wrote down distances, printed out tide tables, checked the weather.  The whole nine yards.  I was more than ready.  I was knowledgeable.  We motored out past the breakwater and stayed on course for the first two markers.  Perfect.  As we rounded the second channel marker I realized the wind was blowing from a different direction than they had said on weather.com and it would require tacking all the way across the Bay to stay on my planned course.  OK, no problem.  I winged it.  We were only going out for the afternoon anyway so I changed our plans on the spot and we sailed straight across the Bay to the bottom end of Poplar Island.  It was a beautiful sail, close hauled, and we averaged 7kts with a maximum speed of 8.2 kts.  We passed every boat in sight too.  This is not my goal in life, to beat everyone to the finish line, but it sure is cool to have such a kick-ass boat.  By the way.....Bella is a fantastic sailor.  I think she really enjoys it.

Sunday we had some friends come by, our first real company in our new home.  Cheri spent all morning spiffing up the place while I stayed out of the way.  I mean, I was helping of course.  At 1500 Pete + Gina Judd and Kris + Rheba Kelley showed up and we gave them the Grand Tour.  We had planned to take them out for a sail but the weather was nasty, cold and wet and when I looked up the forcast it showed a line of thunderstorms headed our way.  Not the kind of day you want to take friends out for a joy ride.  Ask Gilligan.  So we sat around the cockpit and talked for a while as the clouds swept by and finally around 1700 I decided that things looked OK and we should go out for a quick sail.  Wind was only blowing about 8 or 10 kts and the temperature was about 65 degrees.  We motored out a ways, put up the sails and cruised out towards the middle of the Bay before turning around and coming back in.  Nice sail, everyone got a chance to steer and lay up on the deck for a bit.  There was a really big ugly cloud working it's way across the Bay though and I wanted to beat it back to the marina.  Just as we were getting up to the breakwater it started to rain, wind picked up to 22 kts and everyone got cold and wet.  We got back into the slip in pretty short order and everyone took off for home.  Cold and wet seems to be a real good way to kill a party.  Well, it was also getting pretty late (2000) on a Sunday night and these guys had a 45 minute drive home.  In wet clothes.  Fun.  Sorry about that guys.  Please come back again and play.

So, life on the boat is pretty cool.  We work hard for part of the week and have paradise for the rest.  Of course we have hurricanes and tropical storms and Winter to deal with.  That's what everybody reminds us about when we tell them how much we're enjoying our new life.  We'll deal with it, just like we did when our home was stuck in the dirt.  It's not really that much different now.  Just better.