trying to beat the odds

I'm not going to sugar-coat it for all the dreamers: winter aboard really does suck. Low tides. Precarious climbing on and off the boat. The poor dog trying to get on and off without falling in or breaking a leg. I don't mind the cold as far as comfort goes. I can always bundle up and I manage to keep it between 55 and 65 degrees inside with the space heaters. But the water line froze up between the tank and the pump. I had bought some foam for insulating the line but hadn't managed to climb down into the engine room to do it before it froze. So I had to wait for it to thaw. (And fill bottles of water in the bathhouse in the interim.) I aimed a 60 watt halogen bulb as far aft toward the line as I could; yes, I duct-taped a work light to a pink and black umbrella, don't laugh too hard. I've been running a space heater part-time aimed into the engine room. It finally thawed... and then froze again. Between freezes I did manage to climb down and put foam on the line but realized once I was down there that the line I was seeing was actually the one from the pump to the sinks, which wasn't frozen. I insulated that line, which I could reach, and then traced my way to find the culprit section. Naturally that segment is smushed between the batteries and the hull and I could barely reach any portion of it. I wrapped as much as I could, which was not much, but when the old batteries come out for replacement I will have to use that opportunity to squiggle down there and fully insulate that hose.  

Anyway, spring is easy. Anyone can live on a boat in the spring or the fall. It's the heat of summer and frigid, windy winters that test us. Most liveaboards don't last much past the first year, so I've already beat those odds. I know I'm in for the long haul and can handle whatever life throws at me, but if you're someone who heats their house to 75 degrees in the winter, you better head south if you ever live on a boat because winter aboard is cold, inconvenient, and frustrating. If you don't already curse like a sailor, it will inspire you to. But it's a good excuse for hot buttered rum or some peppermint schnapps in your cocoa. 

Hunter had his ear surgery six days ago. (Before and after photos that might bother the particularly squeamish are tucked away at the very bottom of this post, so don't scroll too far if you are feint of heart or having dinner. I'll put a warning before they appear).

A huge thanks to Annapolis Cat Hospital for fitting Hunter in a week early and taking such good care of my little guy even though he was apparently a terror to them. It was a pretty rough surgery and because the wound was oozing and bleeding, they had him stay overnight. When I picked him up the following day, I had to take him out of the cage because the tech didn't think Hunter would let him pick him up. Of course he let me pick him up and put him in his carrier and hasn't even fussed much when I'm putting on or taking off his Elizabethan collar. But he's a mama's kitty. It's really messy if he tries to eat with the collar on, so I've taken pity on him and given him some breaks from it when I can keep an eye on him to make sure he's not scratching at his ear or pulling any of the stitches. I kept him pretty well stoned on morphine for the first few days home. Gratefully I just had to shoot a small amount of the liquid into his mouth and it absorbs through his gums. Pup dog went to a friend's for the week since it would be almost impossible to put the litter box somewhere the cat can get to it with his e-collar on but that the dog couldn't get to it to raid it. It's sad/funny to watch Hunter trying to walk around with the e-collar on because it bumps into everything and he sometimes has fits where he bucks like a bronco trying to shake the thing off his head. Oh, the humiliation.

The bad news, though not unexpected, came today. The tumor was a malignant soft tissue sarcoma. Many such sarcomas in cats are related to vaccinations and appear at the injection site. Since this one is not vaccine-induced, it makes it difficult to sort out information online in trying to research it. The vet spoke with both the pathologist who analyzed the biopsy and with an oncologist. The good news is that we had a clean margin around the tumor. Unfortunately, that margin is only 2mm instead of the preferred 2cm. The location of the tumor at base of his ear made it impossible to obtain large margins around the tumor. Also unfortunate is that sarcomas tend to send out "tendrils," so any tendrils that went out are likely still there and the tumor has a substantial likelihood of recurring in a few months. More radical surgery is not much of an option because his eye and brain are right there. Radiation is the preferred next step, but I would have to drive quite a ways to Gaithersburg for such treatments and he would have to be under general anethesia. And, of course, radiation therapy would easily be several thousand dollars. Even if I had the money, however, I think the physical and mental stress that treatment would put on Hunter may do more harm than good. I wish he would live forever. He's one of my best friends and kept me going through very dark days. But I will not torture him with medical treatments, or prolong his suffering, just to delay my grief. I made that clear to the vet and I know that I'll likely have to have a discussion with her about palliative care if the tumor returns and he's in pain. Through it all he has been incredibly brave and his favorite place to be is still right on my lap, purring away. And with hope he will beat the odds.

Of course, I've been out of work since December 17. The total cost for the cat's surgery came to $981.50 (plus another $15 for the collar) and $775 for the dog's. I definitely don't have the money right now to pay for the vet to remove the cat's stitches, so they'll either take a few months to dissolve or I may have to figure out how to remove them myself. They let me leave a post-dated check for the 29th for the $401.75 balance for the cat's surgery, but that leaves me with just $60 to my name after paying the rest of the bills due this month, and in the hole $133 for paying the bills due on the 1st. (If anyone wants to donate towards Hunter's vet bill, feel free to call Annapolis Cat Hospital at 410-268-2287, no amount is too small, any amount is deeply appreciated, and you can remain anonymous to me if you so desire.)  

If I can get everything out of my storage unit I could save $57 a month so I'll probably have to figure out a way to make that happen in the next two weeks. I've been applying online for jobs as well as hoofing it around trying to find restaurant work. The challenge there is that if you show up any time other than between 2:00PM and 4:00PM Monday through Wednesday or Thursday, the odds are good they will just toss your résumé for not coming at the deadest time; I get it, but it adds an extra logistical challenge. And of course it is winter, so many of the restaurants are slow and people are fighting for shifts, so not many spots are in hiring mode at all. Fingers crossed something shakes out very, very soon. But, hey, I need to go on a radical diet to lose that last 15 pounds anyway!

As I think most of my readers know by now, I'm not about sugar-coating my life or the liveaboard lifestyle. It is the right thing for me, but it's not all palm trees and fruity rum drinks and it is especially challenging with pets. Having pets aboard is something I had to do in my particular circumstances. I made a commitment to my pets for their lifetimes and I have sacrificed many opportunities so that I can keep them and keep them all together. The opportunity for me to buy a boat came along and because of my very challenging and unstable financial situation, I had to seize that opportunity and move aboard and have a home of my own. It was the right thing for me, but my pack didn't get a vote in the matter and it probably wasn't the best thing for them. I know there are readers who will be miffed at my saying this, but, honestly, I truly don't recommend having pets aboard. I'm not casting judgment or trying to make anyone feel guilty, but unless you absolutely cannot put off moving aboard until your pets have passed on, it simply adds an extra layer of strain to a lifestyle that isn't exactly easy for human, canine, or feline. I admit that perhaps down the line I will have a boat cat again to take care of rodents and provide a little companionship, but I would get a kitten who never knows anything but boat life and has sea legs from the beginning.

Pup dog hates the boat. Or at least hates getting on and off and getting inside and out. I think she was equally bored hanging out in a house all day as she is hanging out on a boat all day, and her preference would be if I could stay home and play with her, go swimming, go hiking, and just be together all the time. (As one friend told me "Having a dog is like having a three-year-old that never, ever grows up.") Unfortunately, the kibble doesn't just magically appear and I have to work. We haven't even tackled the utter hell that will be trying to get her in and out of a dinghy to go ashore for potty breaks when I head south or if I end up living on a mooring ball or on the hook since I probably can't afford marinas anymore. That will take our shared misery to a whole new level. As much as it would break my heart to let her go, if I had a friend with a farm where pup would be loved in abundance and could run around all day and then snuggle up by a fireplace, I would probably let her move ashore because it would be a happier life for her.

I think my cats do love being in the boat while docked since it is full of interesting little napping spaces. And they enjoy sunning on the decks, smelling smells, and hunting marina mice. And since cats hate change, when we move, all their stuff goes with them and stays in the same place, so that puts less stress on them than moving from house to house did. But they hate the boat in motion. Max lays down and just has the most pathetic queasy, terrified expression. Hunter pukes exorcist-style even for a mild motoring trip from one creek to another around the Eastport peninsula, and for longer, bouncier rides he really loses it.

When you have pets aboard is that really what is best for them, or just what is best for their human? I hate to say it, but I think it's the latter. I know a lot of people have pets aboard, and I don't doubt that they are loved and better off than in a shelter, but it definitely makes cruising more difficult and costly. Many islands are rabies-free and simply no-go zones without very lengthy quarantines. Even in countries where pets are allowed to enter, there are often complicated hoops of paperwork and veterinary certifications and fees to jump through. If you have a purse dog it is certainly easier than if you have a breed than isn't easily carried aboard. And other than the sizable footprint a litter box takes up, cats are simpler and don't ever actually need to leave the boat for anything other than vet visits. 

As with most things, folks tend to remember the easy parts and get amnesia about the hard stuff. Anyone can live on a boat in April. Springtime is a cake walk. But in a place like Annapolis, the cold of winter and sweltering heat of summer last a lot longer than the mild, easy days of spring and fall. Sure, if you have a dog that weighs less than 30 pounds you can just lift it on and off by hand. If you have a younger dog who can jump on and off, it all may seem simple. Until the dog gets old and arthritic or has an injury and isn't allowed to run, or jump, or climb stairs. Then, getting a 60-pound dog three feet from point A to point B may take hours, and tears, and risk life and limb. (It took all of those last week and I think pup and I were both at our wits' end.) No one wants to think about or tell anyone about those days. So that's why I'm saying it. Just go in with your eyes open. And if you're doing a better job of having pets aboard than I am, I envy and applaud you, because it is not easy.

OK, here's a photo of my beautiful boy Hunter with big green eyes and enormous scooper ears. If you keep going past that photo...be forewarned. I don't think the photos are overly gross but if you can't handle seeing stitches and such, you may want to stop here.

down the lazarette we go

I'm rather independent and like to do things myself. However, we don't just come into the world knowing how to do everything. I didn't happen to grow up learning to fix cars or build things. Thus, I often find myself not knowing how to do some simple repair and maintenance tasks that guys just take for granted. I wonder how they would feel if I talked to them like helpless little girls because they don't know their way around a kitchen. Anyway... for several months I have been begging people to come show me how to water the battery on the boat. At this point the water level was probably so low that permanent damage has been done. But I'm facing the reality that even when I have cash in hand to pay people to help me with my boat, the only person I can rely on to get anything done aboard is me. 

I did some research online, put on my goofy headlamp, and started pulling everything out of the port lazarette. The single biggest problem with the design of my boat is the terrible engine room access. To get to the engine, batteries, and water pump, one has to climb down one of the cockpit storage lockers, which means removing everything stored in them first. It's very difficult to reach things toward the bottom of the locker but there were various items I didn't want to step on. I was laying in the cockpit hanging myself down as far as possible without crashing in, and pulled as much out as possible. I tucked a screwdriver and wrench in my pocket just in case and set distilled water and a small measuring cup above the lazarette. 

Climbing in and out of the lockers is very difficult. The opening is long but narrow, so my hips won't fit going the direction I want. The locker is very deep, so my feet won't reach the bottom if I'm sitting on the edge of the opening trying to hop down. The sides of the locker are very slippery with condensation. Once I was in and organizing, I knew it would be much easier to have another set of hands to hand me things so I wouldn't have to keep trying to climb in and out. I texted three different guys asking for some quick help, but it was a newly-liveaboard gal on the other side of Eastport who came through. Everything about sailboats is new to her, but I assured her I just needed someone to be able to hand me things and rescue me if I got stuck in the lazarette. As I was pulling stuff out of the lockers and trying to reorganize and store items I found my sea anchor. I don't plan on seeking out the weather that would require them, but I am glad a prior owner invested in a storm sail and sea anchor.

the sea anchor

I got things cleared out and started taking a look at the battery. For some reason the water pump is on top of the batteries. That doesn't seem like a good place for it, but there was very little slack in the hoses to move it around. As I tried to prop it up more against the wall, all of a sudden the pump started running. I must have jiggled a hose clamp loose. I started yelling at my friend to run down to the breaker panel and switch the pump off. I was worried the hose would come loose and water would be spraying everywhere as I sat there next to the batteries and battery charger. Of course there are probably 40 or more switches on the panel so I'm yelling to her that it's the far right row, third from the bottom. Once it was off, I tightened up the clamps on each hose. I still need to investigate the leak between the pump and the water heater, but getting to that spot in the engine room will be a major contortionist act for another day. Since the water in the line to the pump has frozen a few times this winter--not good, I know--I relocated one of the 60 watt work lights from the engine block over to the pump, where it was last winter. That should make a big difference when the next cold snap hits, probably next week.

On to the battery. I suspected that the little black and white knobs (shown in the photo at top) were where I needed to pour the water, but I wasn't certain. I also noticed writing on them. "Keep" and then something I couldn't read. I was worried it would say "closed" or "shut." I took a close-up photo since there was no way to get my head in close enough and saw it said "keep tight." I messaged a photo of the knobs to a friend asking if these were what I needed to remove and how much water to add. Although he's sailed off to South Florida, I was lucky he was online to help me troubleshoot; thanks, Phil! I slowly poured distilled water into four of the six little ports; two were just too far for me to reach without better lighting and a turkey baster. Even using a mirror it was too difficult to see the water level, but I wanted to be careful not to overfill the cells and have electrolyte leak out. Even if they needed a little more water, they are certainly better off than they were and I'll just have to make it a quarterly chore to climb down and water the battery.

stuck in the lazarette under a heavy, moldy sailbag; yuck

Once the battery task was done, it was on to the starboard locker. It was full of loose PFDs, random stuff, and two big, heavy sail bags. Both sails are just old mainsails. I'm probably due for some new sails, but since that's likely going to run about $5,000 I don't see it happening any time soon. The old back-ups, however, will likely be turned into harbor shades or other sewing projects. But now for, I needed to get them out of the way of the engine room access. There's no getting around filling these lockers to the brim; I absolutely need the storage space. I sure wish the design had made them internal quarter berths, but I've got to work with what I've got. Therefore, I'm trying to at least consolidate loose items into bags and bins so that I only have to pull 5 big things out of the locker, instead of 20 little things, every time I need to get to the engine room. It sucks having to store sails in these lockers, where they are exposed to condensation and may get moldy, but there simply isn't any space inside to store them... I've still got a car full of stuff and a few items in storage that have to find a place aboard... it's a process, not an easy one, but worth it in the end. Despite all the challenges, I really couldn't imagine not living aboard.

six months aboard

Half a year aboard. I guess that's something of a mini-milestone and the next temporal one will be a year. Yesterday I started early with projects, feeling some momentum to make headway. At least I managed to bail out the dink.

Looking around inside the boat, it appears I've made little to no progress in the past six months. Clothes are in bags and piles. Random clutter inhabits every surface. It seems as if no amount of vacuuming can keep pace with the dog's shedding.

The weather yesterday was beautiful. Finally warm enough to open all the port lights, let in some sun and fresh air. The two projects I really wanted to get to were replacing the holding tank vent hoses and drilling out the hinge screw holes on my companionway door, then filling the holes with epoxy and wood plugs. A warm, dry day is best for epoxy work so that it will cure well. I should have started with the latter project so that perhaps next weekend I could re-sink the hinges and have a functioning door. Instead, I decided to tackle the vent hoses first. Getting rid of the stinky permeated hose would let me put away clothes in the hanging locker and free up space in the cabin, making it easier to clean and organize.

In theory, vent hose replacement is simple. The only tool required is a screwdriver for loosening and tightening the hose clamps. In practice, the job was not so simple. I went to work on the thru-hull connection first. I contorted myself to reach the hose clamps and quickly got them loose. I twisted, tugged, and pulled the hose, but it would not come free from the thru-hull. I worried that the fitting would fall out into the water and considered duct-taping it down outside. Donning my goofy headlamp, a mask for mold and smells, and rubber gloves, I begrudgingly went a couple slips down and asked for help. To be clear, I was only asking for their advice on how to remove the hose. I just don't think you can ask for volunteers with head-related projects; those projects are icky and smelly enough that I think you have to pay real cash money to someone to help. But one guy offered to hold down the thru-hull from the outside while I tried to break the hose free. He seemed to think the thru-hull was not going anywhere and was nice enough to come inside and after some twisting and pulling get the hose free of the fitting.

On to the unpleasant end of the project: disconnecting the hose at the holding tank fitting. The working space there is much smaller unless I disassemble part of the berth, which is likely what I will end up having to do because the starboard vent connection is even harder to reach than the port one I was working on yesterday. I loosened the hose clamps, one of which promptly broke anyway. I was able to twist the hose back and forth on the fitting, but like the other end, it would not come free of the fitting. I figured it may be easier to work with a smaller section of hose, so I used a hack saw to cut the hose away about an inch past the fitting. I stuffed a paper towel in the end of the hose to cut down on the smell and took a study break.

I looked online and found no useful information or handy YouTube videos (apparently no one on Sailnet or Cruisers' Forum has had this problem...not likely, but I can believe they wouldn't admit to it.) I referred to Nigel Calder's Boatowner's Mechanical and Electrical Manual and Peg Hall's Get Rid of Boat Odors. They both have useful information for installing the new hoses, e.g., Nigel Calder suggests dipping the end of the hose in boiling water to soften it to slip over the fitting more easily (rather than using a heat gun), and Peg Hall suggests lubing the fitting up with some K-Y. I will likely use both suggestions. But to remove the old hose that is stuck on the fitting the only advice I've found is to soften it with a hairdryer. I was hoping to avoid that because I will have to link a couple of extension cords together to reach all the way inside the boat since plugging a hairdryer into the boat's electrical system would almost certainly trip the breakers.

Hunter studying up on Nigel Calder's plumbing guidance.

I went back to the project a couple of times, trying to pry the hose off the fitting with a screwdriver, (which risks damaging the fitting), and trying to cut the hose section with a utility knife, which could also have damaged the fitting if the knife hadn't been utterly useless against the hose. I really wanted to finish that project, or at least one of the hoses.

Six months in and I can't even finish this simple project that requires no power tools. I know exactly how to do the job, but I'm not strong enough to pull the stupid hose off the fitting. I hate that feeling of defeat, weakness. I will probably have to hire someone to help me with this simple project, but don't even have the money to hire anyone right now. At least the port hose is removed and I can plug the fitting for now. The tank is still vented to starboard. I can clean the hanging locker again--the moisture and mold keep coming back from the cold weather--line the locker with some insulation, and actually hang some clothes there. I guess I have to find the little success even if I lost the battle against the vent hose for now.

As if my plate wasn't full--though admittedly, no matter how much progress one makes the boat project list never shrinks--I also need to follow up on the water pump. The new pump occasionally cycles on when no faucet is open. That is a sign of a leak. I get weak pressure at the galley sink, but very forceful pressure in the head sink, which is twice the distance from the pump. Investigation has revealed that the separate spray nozzle at the galley sink drips quite a bit when the faucet is on--but does not do so when the faucet is off. It's a leak that needs to be dealt with, and may account for the lag in pressure there, but I don't think it's the cause of the water pump cycling on when it shouldn't. It seems that the cycling on problem occurs when the water heater is on, which I only use for hot water for dishes as it draws a lot of electricity. My working hypothesis right now is that there is a leak somewhere between the water heater and the pump. It's a project I will bring in help for so that I can learn how to find and fix it without further mucking anything up. I also want to know whether I have a heat exchanger on my water heater; if so, I can heat water from the engine's heat when motoring, which would be quite useful when cruising.

Although I am frustrated that I have not made more progress in these six months, that I have not renamed the boat or held boatwarming festivities, I am trying to cut myself some slack and give myself credit for learning how to survive winter aboard a boat, learning how to manage three pets aboard, for embracing a lifestyle I was meant for but that certainly presents its quirks and challenges. I am grateful I have many local friends I can turn to if I want advice, since oftentimes the folks most insistent on offering up their advice aren't the ones whose advice you actually want.

I couldn't pass up these adorable Easter lambs on sale today:

I had a great Easter brunch with good friends. But I do miss Easter baskets. I prefer to give gifts than to receive them; I love to pick something special for someone and see them enjoy opening a gift. And although I am not religious, I am very spiritual and embrace the renewal, fertility, and rebirth that bunnies and eggs represent. Now that spring is blossoming I must focus on renewing myself through running, a rebirth (i.e., renaming) of the boat, and getting the boat in shape for a boatwarming and general entertaining. Progress will come. It has to be our turn for some fair winds.

blue all around (a/k/a project: tarping over)

Yesterday I did a most "craptacular" job at tarping over the boat. Using cord was a hassle and difficult to adjust. I wasn't able to get the angles and tautness I wanted. Today I bought two additional tarps and set out to do a better job. I removed all the cord and went with my initial plan: bungie cords. I used an entire bag of 18, and will need to buy more so I can add the third tarp on the foredeck. But today I did manage to tarp over the side decks and get the rooftop air conditioner covered--rain had come through it and onto my blanket a couple of nights ago. I also put a small tarp over the bimini; snow and rain can still settle there, so I will still need to knock any off, but it will ease the strain on the aging canvas and be far more water resistant.

It's definitely darker inside with the tarp up, but the windows now provide a blue glow and it may provide a little bit of insulation to the boat; we'll see how it holds up. The bungie cord strategy makes it easy to walk to the outside of the tarp because I can pull the tarp away from deck edge with my toe before I step--cord would not provide that sort of "give." I can also scurry underneath the tarp along the side deck if I want; either way, it's not too difficult to get up to the bow to adjust lines if needed.

 

The weather reports had predicted possibly 5 inches of snow accumulation, then this morning it was down to about an inch, and then it never bothered to rain or snow at all (as of this posting anyway). I credit that to my having put so much time and effort into tarping over. (You're welcome, Annapolis.) It's just like being in Miami, putting up all the hurricane shutters, and then barely getting a gust. It's the converse of the phenomenon where the bus only comes once you light a cigarette.

On my way back from the hardware store I stopped at the SPCA. I had been told they sometimes have dog ramps that have been donated and they sell them very reasonably. To my surprise they had exactly what I was looking for and for $20 I went home with a ramp that would have cost me about $250 new. (Many thanks to whomever donated it and to the SPCA; this will make a HUGE difference for us and I could not have afforded a new one.) Buttercup took to it pretty quickly. It is not secured currently, but tomorrow I will pick up hinges and attach it to either the boat or the dock (I'm leaning toward the boat, so it will move with the tide and be easy to use when traveling).

The other big task of the day was bailing out the sailing dinghy. A lot of rain in the past few days had filled it up and I was concerned about the predicted heavy rain and snow. A couple of days ago I had made a "bailer" (and a handy tub for mixing epoxy). I tied a good length of nylon cord to the bailer and around the forward bench of the dinghy.

I had not actually gotten into the dinghy before, or used the swim ladder, so I asked a friend (thanks!) to come spot me in case I went overboard during this little exercise. I decided the best time to do this was after my run so my clothes would already be wet if I went in the drink. I knocked out a 6 mile run and luckily my friend warned me my running shoes would be waterlogged if I wore them in the dinghy. I went and swapped them for galoshes and glad I did--that water was icy! The bailer worked perfectly, the swim ladder held, and no one went for an unplanned swim.

Three successes in one day! I really wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop...but I think it did. I had the rooftop heat running and happened to glance at the ammeter and see it was on zero. The heater generally draws about 17 amps. I checked just in case I had accidentally put it on "fan" instead of "lo heat." Nope, the setting was on heat. But only cold air was blowing. I have an oil-filled radiator space heater, but it runs on my "main" electrical line with any other AC appliances/outlets other than the water heater and battery charger, so it limits how many electrical gadgets I can operate at once. I have two space heaters, but worry that together, and combined with powering the laptop, charging my phone, and playing the stereo, they would exceed the 24-amp limit for the line (it's a 30 amp line but it's ill-advised to regularly run more than 80% of its capacity).

Then I was cooking dinner and chatting with a friend who stopped by and I noticed the sound of something running. Was it the fridge compressor? Yes, looking at the DC ammeter, 5 amps was likely the fridge and the other 2 the light in the galley. But the noise seemed louder than the fridge compressor and continued to cycle on and off. I had a sinking feeling... I flipped the breaker for the water pump and the noise stopped. The brand new water pump is now angrily, noisily, running continuously. My understanding is that it has a pressure-sensitive switch, so open pressure (from a faucet, or a leak) activates it. Now I will need to call the boat guy who installed it and get his help tracking down the problem...likely a leak somewhere. A couple of setbacks that concern me, but happy to have made other positive progress today.

Just like when running a marathon, I have to keep moving forward no matter what. I have to remember that: to keep moving forward mechanically, financially, and emotionally, no matter what. Sometimes easier said than done. When I moved aboard I was stressed but happy to be moving forward in my life. I was happily single, not looking, considered myself "single but not available." It had taken me three years to fully recover from "the evil one" but I finally felt I could open my heart again, that I was done with any playing around, and that a real, long-term commitment would come along when the time was right. I was a fool to fall for the floppy-haired sailor guy. I actually put off projects I wanted to and should have completed when the weather was still good because I wanted to maximize my time with him before he left. In his time of need, I offered him everything I have to give. It is clear now I was an interesting new toy for a couple of weeks, and after than he hardly uttered a kind word to me. Now I am bruised and circumspect again. I just hope it doesn't take me years to pull myself back to where I was before meeting him. I have to remind myself every day that my pack and my boat come before any guy. I am just grateful to have them and to have wonderful friends, new and old.

Here's a sweet couple who lives nearby.

fire and water

At last, I have fire and water aboard! I took the old water pump (pictured below) to Bacon Sails to find a new one, replace a horribly kinked length of water hose, and pick up some Trident sanitation hose for the starboard vent line off the holding tank.

I wasn't able to find a used pump that seemed to be the right size and electrical draw, so bought a new one for $100. I was told I may be able to rebuild the old one, so that will be a project down the line so that I'll have a working spare to use in an emergency. I wanted to do as much of the work on this as I could or at least observe and assist, but as we always seemed to be working on this project as snow or rain were about to start or as the daylight waned, I watched as much as I could and asked questions, but ultimately let the guy I hired do the work so we could just get it done. The fittings on the new pump were smaller than the hose, so I had to wait a couple of days for my handyman to have time to get nipple adapters to connect the fittings to the hose without leaking. Finally, yesterday we managed to do that, used my hairdryer in lieu of a heat gun to soften up the hose ends enough to fit the nipples, and at last I have water flowing aboard again. The pressure is better in the galley than it was before, but still not what it should be, so we will end up disconnecting the hose to the galley sink and checking whether there is a problem there or in the sink fixture, but for now I can wash dishes again. And whereas the old pump would run continuously, (which probably burned out the motor), the new one's pressure-sensitive switch works so it only comes on when it senses I have opened a faucet. I'd still like to install a foot-pump in the galley as a back-up in case of emergency.

Although the propane is not yet mounted off the transom, in the interim I can now use it with the tank in the cockpit and just disconnect and re-connect the regulator which is in the lazarette. In the not-too-distant future, my handyman will help me build a base for the tank, drill a hole from the lazarette through the transom, and mount the tank below the aft rail. We'll make a teak or fiberglass box to protect the regulator from the elements. Today I need to go buy a tea kettle so I can boil water for coffee and tea. I'm very excited to be able to cook and bake again and not be dependent on the microwave, which is a strain on the electrical system and limited my on-board dining options.

When friends were over yesterday to help me get the propane stove going, Maximus slipped out and took a stroll on the deck. He quickly hopped right into a friend's dinghy tied alongside my boat.

What a trouble-cat! But it was he and his brother's tenth birthday, so I cut him some slack. At least the flock of ducks was not right there to tempt him to jump overboard.

Pup dog has had quite a challenge with winter aboard. I did purchase ice melt (and have shakers both in the cockpit and in the bathhouse ashore) to help us get down the finger pier, however the tides have also been a challenge. Until yesterday morning, she had not been ashore in forty hours (same length of time as during Sandy), due to extremely low tides from high winds blowing water out of the bay. The boat sat well below the dock and for a while was aground so I couldn't pull it closer to the pier; she likely could not have made the straight vertical jump almost three feet anyway. It's not been easy for me getting on and off the boat either; I had to stand on the toe rail and then swing my other leg up to the pier, grab onto the other side of the pier, and pull myself up. Getting back aboard I've often had to sit on the pier to reach the boat.

I already lost three mats (one coco-fiber and two carpet) into the water from the high winds; I won't be putting any more mats on the finger pier unless they are nailed or stapled down. While pup was stuck aboard, I bought a rubber-backed carpet door mat for the cockpit and an astroturf one as well, with the hope of teaching her to do her business on the astroturf. If she can learn to do that it will be safer during snow and ice or extremely high or low tides, rather than trying to get her ashore. It will also offer us more cruising flexibility to be able to anchor out and not need to get ashore; though she certainly will still want the chance to stretch her legs, a few days without that is not life-threatening the way a few days of "holding it" would be. I put "piddle pads" down in the boat and tried to convince her to "go" but she just wouldn't do it in front of me. But I knew if she really had to go she would use the pad if I wasn't around. So, while I was off buying the astroturf, she did at least piddle on the pad, and the next morning got a nice long trip ashore.

She wasn't willing to use the astroturf before I got her ashore, but when she was peeing on the grass I stuck the mat under her to catch some pee and "infuse" the mat with her scent, so I'll start trying to get her to use it aboard. I've read both success stories and ones of failure at this, but here's to hoping pup dog can adapt to this aspect of life as a boat dog.

I'd had no word from the floppy-haired sailor guy for just shy of two weeks and was quite heartbroken and worried about him. Losing a loved-one is so hard and I wish I could comfort him somehow. I finally got a brief message from him, so at least I know he hasn't gone overboard. There was a time he seemed so crazy about me. I'm probably a fool to hold on, but it's been years since anyone got inside my heart and I'm just not willing to let him go so easily. Studies show that happiness is not tied to money, success, or health. Across cultures the one key factor to happiness is finding that "one" to share life with. 2012 was the worst year of my life, so I am pleased to let it go and I am hopeful this year will finally be full of health and financial security, but most of all full of love.

are you the mermaid?

At a holiday party over the weekend a stranger came up to me and asked "Are you the mermaid?" I was caught a bit off-guard by the question, but realizing the host must have mentioned that I live aboard I responded "Oh, yes, of course I am." Living aboard is a rather substantial life-change and likely seems even more so to those who live ashore, so I guess my having become a mermaid/liveaboard now defines a lot about me, both to others and to myself. By happenstance my long hair was in very mermaid-esque waves; perhaps I've found my Halloween costume for next year.

I told the floppy-haired sailor guy that I wish I were his mermaid, but that the heart wants what it wants. Not having heard from him in ten days I think it's fair to assume he doesn't want this mermaid anymore. I worry he's stuck in a depression over the need to let his ailing and very elderly cat, and best friend, go and I offered all my support in any way he may need, but he doesn't lean on anyone and I was surprised he even shared the details of his crew's illness with me. I know the heart simply wants what it wants and can't be reasoned with. I just wish that after very knowingly, purposefully making me fall in love with him, he'd have been kind and respectful enough to tell me I'd be easily cast aside. On some abstract level I know I deserve to be cherished, yet for the low-low price of a measly text message every day or two as he cruised he'd have had this smart, loyal, beautiful mermaid dutifully waiting for him. There was a time when he actually said he cared about me and even warned me he'd be out of cell and internet range so I wouldn't worry or think he'd forgotten me if I didn't hear from him for a few days. As heartbroken as I am, I do hope the radio silence is just from a lack of caring about me anymore, and not that he's become too sullen to function or fallen overboard.

On the subject of falling overboard, pup dog and I both came perilously close to going into the icy drink this morning. When we went above it was 36 degrees and everything topsides was wet from rain, but not icy. We proceeded up the side deck, I pulled the boat closer to the finger pier, and pup dog jumped off. She immediately went skidding and I was helpless to do anything. The finger pier is but 29 inches wide. There isn't space for her and I to stand side by side and to "pass" her on the pier I have to basically step over and around her. She seemed to get her footing and so I stepped over to the pier, too. It simply looked wet, not even the sparkle of frost, but it was really just the thinnest, invisible sheet of ice. Once there, I could see the grooves in it where pup dog had dug her claws and skidded.

Pup had made it halfway down the pier and stopped. I was taking the tiniest baby steps but it was so slippery I had to stop, too. Pup and I both stood motionless for quite a while. Any time I tried to nudge her to go forward just a bit, she balked and wanted to back up, which risked sending us both overboard. I felt I would not be able to keep my balance and thought perhaps I could crawl on my hands and knees. But as soon as I put a knee down it slid. I threw one leg over the pier and sat with the other beneath me. Pup dog tried to turn around and almost went over the edge. She sat and tried to scoot into my lap. We sat there together; I hugged her and cried. I told her I'm so very sorry I've put her through this horrible experience, that I'm such a terrible mother. I see the look on her sweet face every time I bring her back to the boat; she hates it. I tried to think of someone I could call nearby to bring us salt, but there is no one I would feel I could bother on Christmas morning. I drank my entire cup of morning coffee, wondering whether I should pour it on the pier or whether it would just freeze up worse. Could I make it back to the boat and get cat litter? Maybe. Would pup be able to stay still and calm without me next to her? Unlikely. I recalled seeing an opened bag of salt behind the dinghy rack, but that seven feet to shore might as well have been a marathon.

Pup dog suddenly made a run for it, skidding out along the way, giving me heart palpitations, but made it to shore. I scooted my butt inch by inch along the pier, and when I got to the bulkhead grabbed a cleat and went on my hands and knees to the grass. I didn't have car keys with me to go anywhere or money to buy anything, and had forgotten her leash for a walk. I found the bag of salt, almost all of which had solidified into a few enormous blocks. I brought it to our finger pier and kept digging to the bottom to find loose handfuls and step by step covered the pier as I went.

I managed to make it back aboard to grab her leash and give her a good mile+ walk. I worried she'd never agree to go back down that pier to the boat. I kept her on her leash--dangerous because if she fell she'd quickly pull me over, too--but I knew she'd balk without it. Her hind legs still skidded as she pushed off to jump aboard and then I had to convince her to wait for me, since we were still connected by a short four-foot leash. She balked about going down the side deck and slipped on it just before the cockpit. I told her she's so brave, that I'm so proud of her, that I'm so sorry I've put her through this. She's scared to jump down into the cockpit, but I think it will become mission critical for her to learn to do so and learn to do her business there. That could save our lives on an icy morning when she needs to relieve herself.

Now she's sleeping peacefully at my feet on the settee. Hopefully she'll forgive me, survive the winter aboard, and learn to enjoy the boat when we have warm summertime and can cruise and swim, and maybe our real life will begin.

Solar light update: here's a photo of one of the solar lights I bought on Amazon. They are really quite bright. I think I will take down all the holiday lights I strung around the bimini and just rely on the two solar lights. One is hung on the aft rail (pictured) and the other looped around the end of the boom.

The guy I'm hiring to help me with boat fixes and teach me along the way was too hungover yesterday to help me with the water pump and propane. I put my dirty dishes in a bucket and carried them ashore to wash in the bathroom sink. I bought deli cheese and meat and a loaf of bread to make sandwiches and a grabbed a few other items I can just microwave. Every surface in the boat is a cluttered mess, so it won't hurt for me to take a couple of days to clean and organize, and I would really like to move back into the spacious v-berth rather than being cramped on the settee, which doesn't really fit me and the dog. I'm too tenderhearted to make the poor pup sleep on the floor.

Well, time to see if I can rally myself to have a bite to eat and go for an afternoon run. I surely need the endorphins to pick me up. I'll be relieved to get past the holidays. Hopefully next year I can anchor out away from civilization from mid-November until mid-January and miss the whole affair.

fill 'er up

Well, linked my hose with the marina one, the connection spraying water everywhere. Filled the tank plus 10 gallon jugs. The water tank was happy to be filled but when I turned on the faucets...nothing. Fresh water pump is dead. I guess we know what tomorrow's priority project is.

when the well runs dry

This time I'm not speaking metaphorically of my bank account, emotional fortitude, or mental health, all of which appear in daily jeopardy, I know. 

No, this time I am just left with the spigot on, but water only a trickle as I was about to wash my face. I feel like I filled my water tank not long ago and suspect it's quite large. But I have washed dishes somewhat liberally, many nights washed my face aboard before bed rather than schlepp to the bathhouse, have regularly filled a cup with water from the sink for flushing, since the raw water flush is not connected. I want to believe that water tank is bottomless. 

But worse than an empty tank I worry the fresh water pump that would run continuously has finally given up the ghost. Filling the water tank can be a hassle, but a new pump will be a few hundred dollars to replace and I'll need to have someone help me with that project. Pro tip: Install a foot pump for a backup!