September 3rd,
I am woken by a racket on deck and when I peek my head out I see that the
welder is being hoisted, by hand, winched up with brute force, to the top of
the mast to fix a spinnaker fitting. In the library the carpenter is putting in
new shelves. (Again I compare this boat to last year’s. HS would have done his
own welding and his own carpentry and I, using my big toe on the electric
anchor winch, would have hauled him up to the top.) Chores for the rest of us
continue; Ida takes all the salon cushions home so she can make covers for
them, Ole is doing something to the main engine powers switch, Aitor is back in
the aft locker painting again, June and Pete, a couple of 20 something kids who
have been helping out show up in the afternoon, Pete spends hours trying to
figure out why the alternator isn’t working and June just grabs a bucket of
soapy water and starts cleaning, I re-sand and re-varnish the cockpit floor
boards and flag pole, coil endless ropes and store them in the fore locker.
And, oh yes, all by myself, I am proud to announce, completely overhaul an
$8000 winch; I start right after lunch, take it apart, clean the many gears
tooth by tooth, clean the bearings ball by ball, clean the washers, the shafts,
the other bits whose names I don’t know (using jet fuel to do all of this), get
Olve to inspect it, then re-grease it and put it all back together, and, with a
few breaks for beer when people drop by, finish at 8 p.m. just in time for
pizza!
September 3rd
today, and we leave on the 7th, apparently. Looking about the boat
at the total chaos you’d never guess that we were going to leave this year even.
We’re almost ready though: the AIS has been ordered, the wind generators have
been ordered, the solar panels have been ordered – none of them have arrived
yet, let alone had mountings made or been set up or had wiring laid or computer
software connected or, been, as is sure to be needed at some point along the
way, trouble shot, when problems occur during installation, but hey, who’s
worrying? Not the captain that’s for sure. He spends the whole afternoon making
a great photoshop picture of the boat to include in a farewell party
invitation. He seems so young. I can imagine one of my kids doing just the same
thing. ‘Shouldn’t we be panicking?’ I want to ask, but I manage to keep my
mouth shut.
September 3rd,
and tomorrow we will turn the boat around so we can clean and wax the other side
of the outer hull, install the second half of the cove line… But what about all
the stuff? The deck is still covered in things, as is every horizontal space
within the boat, and, given that it is a boat, it all has to be put away before
we go or as we are tossed about at sea it will fall, land on the floor, break.
Part of the problem is that things don’t have a home yet. No one knows where
anything belongs. In my cabin for example, there is, on the teeny tiny floor, a
foot tall pile of poster sized charts, a large duffle bag of first aid
equipment, a salad bowl full of dice and cards, a huge crate of alcohol,
several pairs of large flippers, some old solar panels that we might keep, and
boxes and boxes of new spare parts for the main engine that just recently
arrived… The spare parts, presumably, will go somewhere in the tool shed (but
where? Ole and I cleaned it all out a few days ago but it is already a total
mess again) and the rest of the stuff has been thrown there because no one
knows, at all, where else to possibly put it. And, hopefully, someone will go
shopping for food before we leave because there is none on board and ordering
out for pizza is unlikely to be a viable option at sea, and if/when shopping is
done then where oh where will any food bought even go?
September 3rd,
and we leave in 4 days! Really?
But it’s a
beautiful day out. I put away my long underwear and get out my sunglasses. My
mum asked if I was going to use time this year to try and resolve some issues.
No, I answered, I tried that last year and nothing got resolved, this year I
just plan to have fun. Now all I need to do is relax a bit so that I can manage
that. I should have done this - bummed around the world on boats - in my 20’s, of course, but I was too busy having kids then and now is certainly better than
never. Back home it is the first day of school. I could be there, unemployed,
tied to my phone all fall waiting to be called in to supply. What a horrible
thought. Seven of us sit around the main salon table after supper sipping wine
and talking about all manner of things, Aitor is playing beautiful gentle
background guitar music, and I am totally sure for the first time that this is
exactly where I want to be right now.
.jpg)
