april showers

A week ago Monday I had an opportunity to go out fishing. Although I'm allergic to seafood and don't really want to hurt or kill nature for entertainment, I hate to pass up an opportunity to get out on the water and I want to develop skills to serve as a mate on fishing charters. Those mates can make some good tips on a half- or full-day charter, and if I can do the job looking cuter than the usual old salts, well, I figure my tips would be even better. I've found that "soft skills" aren't much rewarded financially and are easily outsourced offshore, so I'm on a mission to stockpile some "real" skills like fishing, sewing, and fixing mechanical things. On my few trips out rockfishing I've learned how to put out the planer boards, clip in and send out the trolling lines, keep an eye out for knockdowns, bring in the lines, tidy up the reels for storage, and clean the lures. I've brought in a few fish, but I still need to learn how to safely net the fish, remove the hook, and filet it up. Although I learned a lot on this past trip (thanks Cap'n Chris and Mate Bob!) and we had 14 lines out, we didn't get so much as a nibble. It didn't look like other boats were having much more luck, though, so I don't feel too bad. The fishing gods must have sensed me typing this and in walked the captain of a local charter boat asking if I could work a charter this Friday. Fingers crossed I do well, make some good money, and get invited back for more work. I should be able to make as much in tips as if waiting tables, but with the potential for more. And it's time on the water, getting some exercise, and developing a skill I can take with me anywhere.

As you may recall, one Tuesday the car died and the following Tuesday I learned the A/C in the car doesn't work and I lost all my important keys (other than car keys). Perhaps the most important of the lost keys was the only key to the lock on my storage unit. So last Tuesday I started my errands with heading to the storage unit to pay the bill and see if they would cut the lock for me. The manager said of course they could cut the lock...for a fee. My heart sank; I'm painfully broke and whatever it cost was coming straight out of the small grocery budget. Then he smiled and said "Just kidding! Of course we'll cut it for free." I just had to sign a liability waiver saying I'm me and won't be upset they cut the lock, et cetera. Annapolis Self Storage rocks! Sparks flew, it smelled like melting metal, and voila! The 5'x5' unit is not even waist high with stuff, much of which just needs sorting, tossing, or donating.

Items I like to keep in the car were at the top in the storage unit, e.g. a trunk organizer, jumper cables, beach chair, hockey skates, emergency overnight bag, and my portable backgammon case. It was a rainy gloomy day so I hit up a fellow liveaboard and suggested I drop by after picking up my groceries and we could play some backgammon and hide out from the rain. He's very competitive, a racer. I'm not. I wanted him to have an edge since he was new to backgammon so I let him pick the black dice, which I suspect to roll doubles on a higher-than-average basis. Although he did roll doubles often, apparently I just have a gift for rolling more of them. Even when I didn't need them my double sixes kept coming up. After just three games he said he never wanted to hear me say "box cars!" again. I guess there's a hidden competitive streak in me, after all. So I promised to let him win at chess.

Having totally lost track of time hiding from the rain, it was about 1:00AM as I was finally heading home. But if it's Tuesday the universe has it in for me, and the car was dead again. I got a ride home only to find that the gasket in one of the port lights had come out of its track and what seemed like buckets of water had rained onto the settee and pillows. There's really no fixing it when wet, so I had to pile towels and a basin below the port to try to catch the rain. A couple days later I managed to get the gasket back in, though it still leaks a bit (I seriously hate the design of these port lights), but I'm still without a car. Every time it freaks out and fails it's been raining. The dealer is thinking it may need a new computer, but the part is elusive and I think they need to figure out how water is intruding and shorting it out so I'm not continually replacing an expensive and hard-to-get part. In the two months I've had the car it has run less often than it's been broken down. At this point whenever I'm about to cry I just start laughing kind of hysterically, like I'm on the verge of a psychotic break. At least I can look at the situation and laugh!

The rain, south winds, and high tides converged to flood the parking garage at the marina with a good 5 inches of water. Water didn't come over the docks but it was close and the boat was high above the pier. I wore my foulies all day Wednesday and had to sit on the deck to jump down.

After what seemed like endless rains, we got some sunny, warmish weather and the dock water was turned on. I borrowed a pressure washer from a dockmate and spent Sunday giving Ambrosia a bikini boat wash. I spent four hours going over the decks with the pressure washer. The boat went from gray to white. One guy said he always found it cathartic to clean the boat like that, and I have to agree. She was just caked with grime and it definitely gives a sense of accomplishment to blast it away. By the time I reached the cockpit I was feeling rushed because the temperature was dropping and winds were kicking up. I didn't want to be caught out in a thunderstorm. Gratefully it passed us by. I spent another hour working on spots by hand and still have more to do to clean up the topsides, but she looks so much cleaner and brighter now.

Come Sunday evening I had a bunch of chicken to cook up but no one was up for coming over for dinner and drinks so I was on my own. I've always left grilling to men. Everyone needs their own "turf," their own things they are good at, skills they get to "own." Since I'm a pretty decent cook and baker, I like to be in charge of my galley. So I've always left the "killing beast over fire" Neanderthal thing to guys. I let them own that primal manly task. But being a single gal and (perhaps overly, painfully, stridently) independent, I have to do for myself these days. For a while I've been using a little George Foreman grill, which I actually quite like. However, it only fits a couple chicken breasts or burgers and if I'm cooking in larger quantities (as is often the case), it takes a long time and there is a lot of clean up. So, this past Sunday I got a fellow dockmate to show me how to light the communal grill by the dinghy dock and lo-and-behold, I grilled up my first batch of chicken by myself. Folks walking by ooh-ed and aah-ed; one family said they wouldn't have gone to Boatyard for dinner if I'd been grilling when they walked by, another guy said it smelled delicious and could smell it a block away. I'd say the real skill in it was marinating the chicken for a few days in a Ziploc bag with olive oil, garlic, fresh ground pepper, and kosher salt, but I guess my grilling abilities aren't too shabby, either.

I had been planning on moving slips but don't like the slip open on the main pier. I'd be stuck between two power boats (which cuts off breezes and could make me feel boxed in) and the view would be of a shabby boat at the marina next door. I'm going to pass. I was mostly resigned to staying put, which pup dog would probably like and would avoid drama dealing with Comcast, but the parking garage noise and being right next to another liveaboard really do bother me. There is another slip possibly opening up on a pier with a gate (so less risk of strangers walking up to the boat) and the docking situation would likely be relatively simple, but that slip would cost almost $1,000 more per year than where I'm at...money I obviously don't have right now. So, we'll see. I think I would have more privacy and peace and quiet there. It's an adjustment being in a more urban/commercial marina with all the noise and foot traffic, but I think what is harder for me is all the liveaboards, gossip, and unsolicited advice. I've got to get the boat fixed up so I can take off on some mini-cruises and get away.

Although it'd be nice to fall in love or at least find a good guy and have a playmate this spring and summer, I'm so thankful that I am not trapped in a stale or bad relationship. I'm saddened when I see someone encoupled with the wrong person, staying by default because inaction is easier than action. There is an enormous opportunity cost to doing that because the love of your life might walk right past you but not see you because you were on another's arm. I keep telling myself (and want to yell at my friends): Don't settle! You deserve better. The person you're with deserves better. No one should ever be pressured to get married or have children, nor pressure anyone else to do so. Marriage is hard. Marriage is a partnership and a sacrifice. If you don't wake up every morning wanting to be there, you are shortchanging yourself and your "partner." If you wouldn't stay if there weren't a legal bond between you, you sure as hell shouldn't be together. Too many people marry for all the wrong reasons, under all the wrong pressures. Too many women marry because they want a wedding, because all their friends are doing it, or because they think they can't have a kid on their own. If a guy truly loves me he won't need legal papers, or a name change, or a joint checking account. He'll show he loves me by being there in my bed every morning and not fucking anyone else. By being his own person, independent, self-fulfilled, seizing and sharing his dreams.

One thing I think we often forget is that we are not responsible for anyone else's happiness. We are each responsible for our own happiness and only when we love ourselves, are independent and complete in ourselves, can we truly love someone  else, seek only to lift them up, not pull them down or revolve around them. I don't want to be the center of anyone's universe (well, other than pup dog's). It's too much pressure. And it isn't love, it's obsession or dependence; there's a very big difference between those things and love. Jealous people, like drunks and addicts, don't truly love. They lack the self-value and self-confidence to do so.

I consider having some fun here and there, but I know I won't be satisfied with that. Even if it's just a physical thing, and especially if it's just a physical thing, I don't want to be with anyone that there isn't just this immediate, gut, pheromonal desire to rip each others' clothes off. I deserve that kind of passion. Anything less than that is selling myself short. So I have to stick with my mantras: Don't settle. Just keep running. Be the lioness, not the gazelle.

feed your head

I've definitely learned that I prefer my solitude to social obligations. Now that Showtime has killed the Borgias series and being in the off-season of the few other television shows I enjoy, (and figuring I won't have television in a couple of months anyway), I need to entertain myself (i.e., have ways to procrastinate on projects) and try not to have everything be boat-repair or sailing books, since my world already revolves around life aboard. I'm trying to get back to listening to a variety of educational and entertaining podcasts, which I can listen to while running or doing dishes or just walking about. Although I like my podcasts, I am very picky about what I listen to. I tried to listen to a sailing podcast but deleted it due to the sing-song of the guy's voice and the dull material. If anything is remotely reminiscent of talk radio or NPR, it's a no-go. I might actually dislike NPR even more than I dislike Jimmy Buffet music.

So, here are the podcasts that are on my plate as I feed my head:

Notes in Spanish: Inspired Beginners. They also have intermediate and advanced Spanish podcasts. It's a big change in accent for me because it is Spanish Spanish, rather than Latin American Spanish, so some of it is difficult for me to understand and I don't want to pick up the lisp. But since I have a lot of exposure to Latin American Spanish it is good for me to hear even more variety in accent and vocabulary. The beginners' level is too easy for me but since I don't live half my life in Spanish the way I did in Miami, it's good to refresh my ear as I work my way into more advanced levels. Despite college courses in Spanish and Portuguese and strong vocabulary in both, I never managed to get comfortable with future and past tenses, and need to find a way to get myself there so I am not stuck with just shopping and dining out level ability. I'm going to try to watch more movies in Spanish as well for mini-immersion and to expand vocabulary. Spanish is handy in a lot of places and especially for cruising in the Caribbean and Latin America. Having learned that the Canary Islands and Malaga have pleasant year-round weather, perhaps I'd be willing to check out those other Spanish-speaking locales as well. And I have a long love of Brazil and Portuguese, so once I've got my Spanish back a bit more, I'll work on refreshing and expanding my Portuguese, which was at one time quite good.

Wine for Normal People. From practical to geeky, but without the snob-factor. They cover different grapes, different regions, tips on developing your palate, and how to get good value in your wine selection. Check out episode 73 on alternatives to the expensive stuff and episode 55 on improving your palate.

The New Man Podcast. I'm a girl, it's true, but I still love this podcast. I'd recommend it to any guy and to most women. The tag line is "beyond the macho jerk and the new age wimp." It's for guys who are confident enough in their manhood to embrace having feelings, use them to better themselves, their relationships, their careers, and their lives. Explicit language and topics, but, hey, life is explicit. Good recent episodes with Alyson Lanier (#147) and with Kamal Ravikant (#144).

I also have a podcast audiobook of Robinson Crusoe to listen to and if I'm feeling sporty, I'll start the learn German podcast to refresh many years of German studies that are long dusty.

As some of you may know, I'm trying to buckle down, run more, eat less, and lose gobs of weight. I'm meticulously counting calories consumed and calories burned, using the web and iPhone app versions of MyFitnessPal. My target is to lose about five inches in bust, waist, and hips, and 20-25 pounds. One week into the new regimen I was down one inch and four pounds, which is nice motivation to keep me going. The other day I made a quick vegetarian burrito for lunch that logged in at 552 calories (follow the link for the recipe and photos). Not bad for a full plate of flavorful food. Not every day is easy; a lot of them are very hard. I don't do well with my tummy growling. I'd rather go run a few extra miles than be hungry. I'm trying not to be so strict that I go completely off the wagon, but I know that if I mostly hang in, the results will come.

So, with all this cold weather, the pump out boat was iced in and couldn't come out last Saturday. They put me on the list and will call me when they come out; I think I'll call them tomorrow just in case. Fingers crossed. Yes, I'm getting tired of winter aboard. Days when it's so icy and windy that I take a handheld VHF with me just in case I get blown off the bow or slip off the pier. When I bitch endlessly about the heat, humidity, and constant stickiness in the islands, remind me about how I bitched about winter aboard.

I recently had my scariest moment aboard yet. I was getting ready to do dishes and noticed smoke wafting from the engine room from behind the companionway steps. It was too thick to see what was going on in the engine room and my heart was racing with fears of burning to the water line while it snowed around us. But as I kept trying to see the source I noticed the smoke didn't smell like smoke. It was thick, but quickly dissipated inside the cabin. Gratefully, it donned on me that the "smoke" was actually steam from the water heater encountering the frigid air. I don't use the water heater often, but lately the water has been so cold that doing dishes downright hurts. So, I gave it an hour to heat up before putting on the water pump. Any time the water heater and water pump are both on, the pump runs continuously, so my loose theory is that there is a leak somewhere between them. Perhaps the boiling water began trickling into the cold, cold bilge, creating the cloud of steam that gave me heart palpitations.

But a real problem is that the leaks I had stopped are back after a year. Ugh. I think it's from the very cold and the resulting expansion and contraction of wood. For the one at the shroud, I think it'll have to be some silicone as a stop-gap to get through the cold weather. Once I have warmer, drier weather, I'll have to dig out all the 4200, fill with epoxy, and do the final seal with butyl tape.

I'll leave you with some snaps of pup on the snowy beach and Hunter in the snow.

bruised but not broken

Now the bruises have really come out. Black and deep purple. Large ones and small ones. Smaller ones dot along the inside of my right arm, and a light but painful one on my left forearm. A huge black one about 5" by 1" beside my knee distracts from many others along my leg. On the left side of my midsection it looks like someone punched me in the ribs. And centered at the small of my back a small but very dark bruise. We'll see how long these mementos of Thursday Night Races linger, having been tossed back and forth, bouncing off winches for two-and-a-half hours. Not my idea of fun.

Initially, I wanted to shake it off and hope for a better experience next Thursday. But my precious few days off need to be focused on making progress aboard and enjoying myself. I think I'll focus on saving up to replace a few pieces of the running rigging so I can get my own vessel under sail. I've been urged to do so before the much gustier winds of September and October arrive.

So, the port tube on the dinghy is once again deflated. I rushed the job because I generally prefer to work on these projects on my own. But now I will take the time to pull up the prior patches, remove the current adhesive, and use Hypalon contact cement a friend is donating to the cause. I'll have to hope for a day that the weather and my work schedule are both clear. The GFlex epoxy on the bottom of the dink may have sealed up some holes, so I still need to check that and plan for patching the others on the bottom as well. The remaining GFlex should work well on the threshold of the companionway; I just have to find a day I can leave the boat open for the 7 to 10 hour cure time.

The hard sailing dinghy had been in the water since January, so I seized an opportunity to get a dockmate to help me pull her out of the water. He volunteered to scrape the barnacles, so I wasn't exactly going to say no.

She was immaculate when given to me, so I feel bad that she looks so rough now. But I couldn't have undertaken some of my projects without her. I just wish the dingy dock at the marina did not have the owner's dink somewhat permanently on it, otherwise it would be far easier to drop her back in the water now and again to practice sailing with her.

I don't know what is in the new propane tank that was supposed to be purged, but so far I have not had any problems with cooking and baking. Yesterday I made cheesy garlic biscuits, yum.

I had three biscuits left, sealed in a ziploc bag on the galley counter. Breakfast for this morning. When I got up I found an empty ziploc bag, cleanly sliced open, on the cabin sole. Apparently, as I slept some sneaky cats stole my biscuits! I'm not sure if the dog was in on it, I would usually wake up from her jumping off and on the bed, but only Hunter is sneaky enough to have stolen the bag off the countertop. Well, at least I got two-thirds of the batch.

deflated

On Monday I finally managed to drag out the inflatable dinghy that was gifted to me by the marina owner. I was forewarned it leaks and needs patching. A dockmate helped pull it out on the grass and pump it up. He poo-pooed how rough it looks and opined I'd be better off buying one off craigslist. I don't want anything that looks worth stealing and prefer not to just treat everything as disposable. Besides, the other dinks in the marina don't really look so much more pristine.

I had the dog jump in and out of the dinghy, though we were just on the marina lawn. I figured getting her acclimated to it and comfortable jumping over the tubes and laying down inside would only help when I need her to board when it's afloat. She seems to like the dink. I can see us having some fun adventures and excursions in our little inflatable.

A little less than two hours after pumping her up, the port tube was noticeably soft. After 48 hours, it was substantially deflated.

On Thursday I hosed it off, gave it a quick wash and scrub with the deck brush and set all the floor boards aside in the sun. I pumped the port tube up again and went over it inch by inch with soapy water to find the leaks. The only places I found bubbling were at the edges of two prior patches.

Although using two-part glue for Hypalon would be the best course of action, it is a little complicated and time consuming for my taste. Having heard of positive results from using GFlex epoxy (or even 5200), I will use it for my first patch attempt. Unlike the two-part glue, it has other uses for me around the boat and is also a less hefty initial outlay. My plan is to use scary-toxic MEK to loosen the edges of the patches and clean the area. Then I will sand both sides with 80-grit sandpaper and apply GFlex adhesive epoxy. Another upside to GFlex is a fast cure time: 7 to 10 hours. If the GFlex doesn't work I can always go back and patch it with the two-part glue.

I also found two small holes worn through the bottom of the dinghy and two areas close to wearing through. I bought a small piece of Hypalon and will cut patches to apply on those four spots. If all the patches hold, the other project will be either rehabbing the floorboards or making new ones. I have some marine plywood at my disposal for the latter approach, but would need to come up with a saw and saw horses. New boards would definitely be an improvement.

Last night when I came home I found the starboard tube soft. It had been perfectly hard only six hours earlier and had held up for three days with no signs of a leak. What could have happened to it while I was gone? I was upset but tried to just shake it off and look at it as one more project to tackle. This morning when I took the dog out I expected to find the starboard tube further deflated but instead it looked just fine. And of course it then occurred to me that it was simply the much cooler night we had last night that made the tube seem deflated. With the warmer temperature this morning the air inside had again expanded to fill the tube.

My week was somewhat derailed when in the midst of cooking lunch on Tuesday the burners went out and wouldn't re-light. I guess all my recent baking ran through the propane faster than during the first quarter of the year. I couldn't just run out to refill the tank because it's old and lacks an overflow preventer. The hardware store had told me they would not fill it again. If I was going to have to spend money on a tank, then I wanted to get a good fiberglass one. The fiberglass tanks are lightweight, will not corrode (the mild steel ones rust quickly), and--in theory--one can see the level of propane in the tank through the fiberglass.

Fawcett's did not have any and the hardware store no longer carries them. So I settled for going to West Marine and special ordered one for $130. (Yes, you can get one less expensively online, but the extra cost was well worth being able to make coffee aboard this morning!) When I picked it up yesterday I was disappointed that it was green. I had definitely been expecting it to be gray. Bright green on my aft rail is not the look I'm going for. But I really should cover the tank for UV protection anyway, so I am going to find a way to be okay with it.

I don't know about being able to see the propane level; it definitely isn't very clear. The hiccup I'm most worried about is that the hardware store just went straight to filling the tank and it would only take 3.5 liters of propane. I had paid for 4.2 and the tank holds 4.7. I insisted the tank is brand new and empty and should take 4.7. The woman filling the tank asked if I'd purged it. I didn't even know what she was talking about, so obviously I had not. Of course there was a sticker right there on top of the tank telling the filler to purge the tank first. I hadn't been looking for it and she clearly didn't notice it when she hooked it up to fill. I've used the stove successfully this morning without incident, but worry about what exactly is in the tank with the propane and whether it is a hazard, bad for my stove, et cetera. But in the meantime, I'll be heating up some chicken and italian sausage for lunch and cooking up the chicken that has been marinating in olive oil, garlic, and Old Bay. Let's hope it hasn't also been marinating in Salmonella.

Yesterday evening I headed back to Thursday Night Races at J World. Your skipper definitely makes or breaks the experience. The entire evening was unpleasant and when they called for a third race I was disappointed that we weren't heading back to the dock. I was assigned to the jib. I quickly learned that between just not having much upper body strength and constantly nursing a torn rotator cuff, I can't pull in the jib against the wind and the winch is virtually impossible for me to crank. If I don't have the strength necessary for the jib on a J/80, I certainly won't be able to fight it on my much larger boat. A couple of the crew had to help me on every tack (of which it seemed like there were an infinite number) because I simply couldn't fight the sail in by myself. By the end one of the other crew members and I had gotten down a bit of a "system" that made it less unpleasant, but to the bitter end I was constantly left cleating the sheet and trying to grab the winch handle as the skipper buried the rail and barked, and I was scrambling to hoist myself up to the high side of the boat.

Perhaps as a marathoner I should have more appreciation for racing. Except that I don't even like running races. They are just a way to challenge myself, keep myself honest and on track with training, and it is more convenient for very long distances to have someone put out food and water for me. Racing sailboats just does not compute for me. I simply can't wrap my head around getting upset and hyped up about what is really a meaningless competition and I fail to see any fun in sailing nowhere around some marks. To each his own; I know a lot of folks are very serious about racing and seem to enjoy it. My interest in racing is entirely deflated.

One happy note to this long and tiring week: a cheerful pair of Keen sandals.

I was looking at various models at Fawcett's and asking about other colors, being picky about those sort of things, being a bit of a girly-girl and all. The salesgirl asked what size shoe I usually wear. It turns out that the largest youth size in the Keens fits me. At almost half the cost and with more "fun" colors, I was sold. These sandals are so "me," and make me think of cotton candy and bumble gum and jelly beans. They are amazingly comfortable, to boot!

And finally, as I write this Hunter has brought in an icky not-quite-dead thing. I told the marina owner yesterday that he must have mice under the shed because the cat had been watching a particular spot intently. He's been playing with it and licking it and then jumped up on the settee with it. Yuck! But he is a helluva mouser.

following my own path

I never seem to accomplish as much as I want or intend. But it has been a busy couple of weeks with smatterings of progress here and there. I feel perched on the cusp of a breakthrough with a flurry of progress just around the bend. I'm always going to go at my own pace, my own way. And some days time with friends just seems to trump tackling projects.

One project that has morphed is replacing my port screens. When the weather does not require air conditioning (or heat), I would prefer to open the ports and get ventilation in the boat, especially to help with the ongoing battle against condensation and mold. Unfortunately, every single screen is torn, some to the point the cats use them as doors. I planned to use screen material given to me by a friend and replace the screening myself. In my research on how to tackle the project I found a diagram of an exploded view of my ports. It turns out the frame for the screen for my ports is an important component, in conjunction with the gasket, for keeping water out. My gaskets also appear very old and dried out; I would not be surprised if they are the original installation.

I called Beckson and explained that I might be interested in screens and gaskets, but did not know what model ports I had. The customer service folks there were very helpful and walked me through determining the correct model, putting in the order, and giving me a discount (the price came out to about what I would pay at my local chandlery with my discount there). Six gaskets and six screens came out to $155.40 with shipping. The screens and gaskets should arrive any day now. Putting the gaskets in can be a bit difficult, so I'll have to pack my patience the day I tackle the installation. Down the line when the budget is not so tight, I hope to get a couple Internal Rain Shields. The internal rain shields include a screen and then have plastic louvers to keep the rain out but still allow ventilation when the port is open. They run a little north of $50 apiece. My plan would be to install one in the head and one in the port across from the head, though I am tempted to also install them on the forward ports in the stateroom, since the v-berth would be more comfortable with that ventilation.

My boat fixing-upping mission continued with a trip to Fawcett's.  I bought a small Gill dry bag to use when out on others' boats and for when I use the dinghy. I wish I could find one with slightly shorter, wider dimensions and a shoulder strap so it could just be my purse. Found the somewhat elusive lightbulbs for my running lights so I have back-ups. Bought silicone to seal up the air conditioner and to create a new gasket for the fridge. The fridge is leaking a lot of cold air and condensation is constantly forming a puddle on the counter along one side. I have to pick a time I'll be gone and won't need to get in the fridge for a while so the silicone can set. It should really have 24 hours to cure, so I may move essentials (i.e., beer, yogurt, and string cheese) into a cooler for a day. I will definitely include a post and photographs when I tackle that project. I picked up a little sign for the head (see photo below), but also made and laminated one with detailed instructions on how to use a manual marine head and what not to put in there.

I knocked out a quick fix that should have been done long ago... chafe guards for my lines. The bow lines especially have suffered some serious chafe. The old water hose I have was too narrow, but the extra length of sanitation hose was perfect. I quickly sawed it in two, slipped the lines through it, and positioned it on each fairlead. Now I just hope it doesn't chafe on the edges of the hose. 

Along the way I had a friend over for dinner and cooked up some delicious stuffed chicken breasts and risotto. You may drool over photos and grab the recipe here. I really need to get the dinette cleared off so I can have more friends over for dinner; I love to cook but cooking for one is difficult. It is much more satisfying to cook for friends; sharing good food, drink, and company is what life is all about. I made some additions to the galleyware since a couple of glasses have broken along the way. Two clear shatterproof pint glasses should come in handy and I love my new wine/cocktail glasses from govino.

A friend and I tried to take the dingy out for a sail, but alas, there just wasn't enough wind. My friend rowed us out toward the channel, but with nothing catching the sail, we just hung out a bit checking out other boats and then rowed back to the dock. I should have taken a bottle of wine so drifting along a bit would have been more of a relaxing sunset dinghy cruise. Here are a couple shots of Tenderheart rigged up.

Although I haven't made as much progress on boat projects as I would like, life has been busy and I continue to make realizations about my priorities and values. One interesting discovery is that although I love being out on the water, my priority right now is on fixing up the boat rather than learning  to sail. I enjoy the problem-solving and troubleshooting of the myriad boat projects and, Cancer that I am, I like tending my nest. I want to learn to sail, but to me it is a replacement for motoring, a way to save fuel, a way to get from point A to point B; it is not an end in itself. That may be one reason I find racing uninteresting. I want to cruise so I can have drinks on the hook, get to some secluded cove to snorkel, or find some destination to explore. I know many sailors will find my perspective sacrilegious, but it's my journey, not theirs. I live aboard to be on the water, to be rocked to sleep by the sea, to have the freedom to move, trying to escape the trappings and oppression brought by land, government, and society.

But as much as freedom is a priority for me, I realize that I am unwilling to apply it as liberally to relationships, love, and sex. Some say I am too uptight in this regard, but my view is that my body is a temple, it is a VIP room that not just anyone can get into. Though there are times it would be nice to have more physical companionship, I would rather keep my heart and my body aligned and hold out for something real and meaningful. It is hard to find someone confident, rather than arrogant, at ease in their own skin, able to share themselves and truly connect with another, heart, mind, and body. But he will be worth it when I find him. I just have to be less trusting, more circumspect, not entrust my heart so easily to floppy-haired sailors who think the sea is full of mermaids.

cooking with gas

I began wondering whether I was on the verge of running out of propane since I'd been cooking for a little over three months on the same tank. A couple of guys lifted the tank and said it felt close to empty so I dragged it over to the local hardware store to refill. It's a little smaller than your standard tank for a gas grill. The tare weight is 13.2 pounds and filled to 80% capacity it takes 11 pounds of propane. I was surprised to see I still had 5 pounds of propane in the tank. I may get six months out of it before it's empty. But the tank is old and lacks an overfill preventer, so the hardware store won't refill it for me again.

I somewhat covet a couple of aluminum tanks, though they are pricey at about $150 each for 6 pound tanks. Having two light tanks is nice so that one can be taken ashore for filling while the other is still hooked up. However, I think I am going to end up getting one larger fiberglass tank. The fiberglass will never rust and will be even more lightweight--a significant benefit for me being a girl and regularly nursing the torn rotator cuff that has plagued me for a few years now.

All winter I've had a large blue tarp covering half the cockpit because the propane line is running out of the port lazarette to the tank sitting in the cockpit. I put a coozie around the propane line so the lazarette would not smash the line or chafe against it. The tarp keeps rain and snow out of the lazarette, which leads directly to the engine room, and helped to keep more heat in the engine room this winter. Now that spring is here, I called my boat handyman to schedule a time for him to help me mount the propane off the stern rail. With a little luck, by the end of the weekend that project will be completed.

Even with a slightly jury-rigged propane set-up, I've been cooking up great meals aboard. I recently had friends over for my chicken and Italian sausage served with parmesan and white wine risotto and baby spinach sauteed in olive oil and garlic with a touch of kosher salt. Delish! I may have to attribute the blurriness of that photograph to the cook having had a few bottles of Spaten while creating the meal. The rest of the chicken was cooked in lime juice and white wine with garlic, adobo seasoning, onions, orange peppers, and edamame; the lime juice gave it a lot of zip!

I haven't been experimenting with the oven as much as I should but am planning on making a nice whiskey-infused pound cake soon. I managed a large casserole of mac and cheese, (with a blend of sharp and extra sharp cheeses), and have some potatoes in need of roasting. Getting the oven lighted can be a bit of a challenge poking around the bottom of the oven with a long lighter and propane flowing. I was pleased to see that the thermometer in the oven and the temperature on the dial actually matched up. My lack of success thus far with pizza and biscuits appears to primarily rest with having used baking sheets which take up the entire footprint of the oven and, thus, inhibit air circulation. With only 11" x 17" to work with, it's time to find some baking sheets 10" x 16" or smaller so I can have my garlic cheddar biscuits before a long run and turn out some gourmet mini-pizzas for friends.

you cook on your boat?

In a surprised tone, my current neighbor asked me that question yesterday. Uh, yeah; of course! I've got a propane stove and oven, though I haven't used the oven yet. The current neighbor is a guy crashing for a couple months on his friend's boat in the slip next to me. He picked the coldest two months to live aboard and from what I've heard is not loving it. Not long after he moved aboard I ran into him on the snow-covered dock; he looked at me skeptically and said "you do this all the time?" Uh, yeah, this is my home, I live here.

But back to cooking... not having the propane hooked up my first three months aboard was what made me feel like I was camping. I am used to cooking up huge meals and filling my freezer with lunch and dinner portions. I regularly bartered with meals and baked goods for pet-sitting, drinks, massages, hair cuts, and concert tickets. Last spring I briefly made myself nuts selling baked goods at a local farmer's market. The oven aboard is small, so I may have to focus on cookies, muffins, bundt cake, and biscuits, and let go my popular three-layer red velvet and piña colada cakes. (Anyone want to trade boat-repair assistance or sailing lessons for yummy baked goods or delicious meals?)

A few days ago I spoiled myself with quinoa smothered with braised chicken and a side dish of yukon gold potatoes, zucchini, and onion seasoned with garlic and paprika and topped with crumbled feta. Everything turned out delicious and, as I did not have any dinner guests, I managed to tuck several containers in the fridge and ate well, healthy, and affordably for several days.

Cooking aboard does present certain challenges. Chief among them is the steam generated inside the boat and resulting condensation. When I use my Fagor pressure cooker I aim the steam toward the hatch and crack it open so most of the steam quickly vents outside. The pressure cooker has already been used for three batches of pinto beans; the other liveaboards at socials tear through the bean dip I bring so it's nice to know I have a standby dish they like; it only takes 40 minutes under pressure to cook the beans, but I do have to remember to soak the beans overnight. I'll need to get some Arborio rice because the pressure cooker lets me make amazing risotto without having to stand and constantly stir for forty-five minutes.

I am very lucky that my boat has an impressive amount of storage space for its size. I plan to bring the rest of my cookware aboard this week so that I can really get cooking. I joke that I have every kitchen gadget known to man...I even have a little blowtorch for carmelizing sugar on creme brulee. Now I look at all the gadgets at Sur La Table or Bed Bath & Beyond and think what a silly waste of space and money most are. Before I owned a cheese grater I used to just dice the cheese so it would melt... it works, and on a boat with limited water for dish washing and limited space for gadgets, cheese graters are just a hassle of nooks and crannies to clean. Do people really need separate gadgets for dealing with every different fruit or vegetable? A few good knives, a few good pots, and a cutting board are really all we need... well, creativity helps!

So, here I am philosophizing on food. I love food and love to cook. Kneading dough and baking cakes and cookies are meditative for me. I am a "true believer" that breaking bread is a universal ritual that brings us together as human beings. But I am adamantly not a foodie. Food snobs are the worst thing that can happen to a good meal. (Sorry, correction: they are the second-worst thing; a date is the number one way to ruin a good meal.) If I discover a guy is a chef I run for the hills; the last thing I want to hear some guy blather on about is a balsamic-something-or-other reduction. Or the "crumb" of a bread. The floppy-haired sailor guy was a Grade-A food snob and enjoyed criticizing my scratch pizza dough, which he never tried, although several people have proclaimed my pizza the best they have ever had. (What can I say; I was annoyed but temporarily blinded by love and tried to see the upside that we both feel passionately about dough.)

Whether a dish is "comfort food" or haute cuisine, if it tries to intimidate or impress rather than comfort, then I don't want it. I like having friends who love food and cooking, are good cooks, and enjoy having potlucks and cook-outs. Sometimes the food is classic comfort food and other times more complicated or fancy-schmancy, but always infused with friendship, love, and generosity. If your cooking lacks those ingredients, it will never feed the soul.