waves

The past month has been marked by waves. Waves upon waves of sadness, but there have also been waves of joy. Water, life, they ebb and flow, bringing bad tidings and good, but ever changing. Knowing that a high tide will come and wash the tears, blood, muck, and hurt back out to sea makes the low tides of my days survivable. 

First things first, I owe you photographs of my beautiful new battery box. The wooden box was custom fabricated and epoxied. It holds my house bank of four 6V "golf cart" batteries and the black box in front is the group 31 dual purpose start battery. The bottom photograph shows the water pump relocated forward near the engine rather than laying loose atop the batteries as in the past.

I finally removed the stand-up portable air conditioner and returned it. It never condensed any water and just operated as a glorified fan. The boat is actually cooler without it! I have the window unit running over the forward hatch and it keeps the v-berth frosty and the rest of the boat comfortable enough. 

I had to finish sanding the brightwork. Here are snaps of the brightwork, before, during, after, and one of me after the final 8-hour day of sanding. I haven't finished the hatch, but can't currently afford the mural I want painted on it, so I figure it's better to leave what varnish is left as protection until I can tackle that project properly.

The new batteries and wiring didn't solve my engine problems, so the electrician removed the starter and took it up to Best Battery in Baltimore for testing. It failed the test so they did a rebuild. Before and after:

In the midst of all the repairs, the electrician had to disconnect and reconnect the water pump frequently to access the starter. Something must have jiggled loose at some point and the pump ran continuously, dumping half my water tank in the bilge. Below is the icky old automatic bilge pump that wasn't doing its job. Now there is a beautiful new automatic pump running well (donated by Doria, thanks!). It gives me peace of mind when I see the red light come on the electrical panel and the pump gurgle for a few seconds to clear the bilge (while my galley sink drains overboard, the head sink drains to the bilge...so the bilge is always getting a fresh influx of water when I wash my face or brush my teeth, yuck.)

I received a lovely bottle of port from a reader. Thanks! (Also pictured a bottle of Italian red I haven't opened yet, a gift from a dockmate). 

The electrician installed the rebuilt starter and miracle of miracles, the engine started right up. Of course, I had 45 gallons of old diesel in the tank I was worried wouldn't cooperate, but I gave it a good dose of tank cleaner and haven't had a problem. (Knock on wood.) Friday the new starter went in and Sunday the boat was out of the slip for the first time since the end of February 2014. 

A friend came to help me on the adventure--a trip down to Thomas Point Light, anchoring out a few hours, and then the hardest part--docking! Coming out of the slip we had our first big surprise. I had the wheel hard a-port but the boat was heading hard to starboard. I freaked out, backed her back in the slip, and fretted a bit. My friend hopped off to look at the rudder and indeed, the steering had gotten reversed. Apparently when my old mechanic and I installed the new engine control cables a year ago and the chain slipped down into the binnacle, we lost the twist in the chain that is needed for the correct steering. We didn't let it stop us, though it made for stressful moments when dodging shoals, crab pots, other vessels, and when docking. 

We went almost to the lighthouse and then headed back north looking for a spot to anchor. Everything shallow enough to be feasible was a minefield of crab pots but we managed it. We anchored out for a few hours, had lunch, and enjoyed the sun and breeze. Enjoying some waves of joy getting my beloved Ambrosia away from the dock at last.

We took some decent waves right on the beam--unable to turn into them quickly enough due to crab pots-- which caused the mini-fridge to tip open and spill its contents everywhere. The fan on top of it tumbled to the floor, pulling the power strip and the computer monitor connected to it to the floor as well. Luckily, nothing was broken, but since every surface on the boat is cluttered, I have a lot of work ahead of me to clear all those surfaces and secure appliances and such with shock cord to prevent mishaps in choppy seas or when heeled over. This was, however, the first cruise when no cats puked. I put them together on a towel in a pop-up dog crate so they wouldn't be able to get sick in some remote locker unbeknownst to me, and so they would be safer from falling objects. It was a good plan that worked out well.

On the way back north we opened the jib and got an extra knot and a half. Naturally, the furling line got fouled beneath the drum rather than wrapping onto it, so I had to go forward and unwind it while carefully jumping back whenever there was slack since the sail would take the slack and fill, spinning off the furler with force. Yes, that is my lovely hatch A/C in the photo. It is too much of a hassle to remove it so we just let it be. And, yep, below you can see the ratty weathered bungee cords keeping my main halyard from slapping against the mast. Don't judge me.

Docking was a major challenge and I freaked out quite a bit. I really don't want to hit another boat so I get very trepidatious in close quarters maneuvering; this is a tight docking situation and a slip I'd never docked her in before. The reversed steering situation didn't help. Gratefully, the dock master was waiting on the pier to throw lines and give advice and we eventually made it in unscathed. But I think next time I will try backing all the way down the fairway and into the slip. I really need someone very experienced to come help me spend three hours going in and out of the slip over and over until it's in my muscle memory and my crocodile brain. But all in, a great trip, a huge relief to get out on the water, and some much needed waves of joy and relaxation.

Here's a nugget of truth to remember: bad tippers are bad lovers (and bad bosses, friends, ...). People who are stingy and selfish in one area of life, like money, are often also stingy in other areas of life--in bed, with their affection, and with their time. The same goes for people who cut in line, cut people off in traffic, and generally seem to have missed the message about the Golden Rule.

I've been running a fair amount, though not back up to my desired 30 miles per week. But I am trimming down, building muscle, and getting faster. Running is my meditation, my church. I listen to Matisyahu, take in nature, feel the connection of my body, mind, and spirit. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by grief and have a panic attack and hyperventilate. But it happens less and less now. So many days I just want to stay in bed, don't want to head out on that run. But I always feel better that I did it, even if it was slower or shorter than my goal. I need to focus on taking better care of myself physically, emotionally, and financially. In a sense, my body is all I have and I have to make taking care of it, making it the best it can be, my priority. 

I started school this past Monday. It seems crazy to be going back to school yet again, but at least this path (massage therapy) feels like it has potential both as something I can do while traveling and that is actually in demand (which is not the case with law). And after many years of lawyering and hating it, it will be nice to do something that reduces the level of stress in the world rather than increases it. Law is just a soul-sucking endeavor and I feel like I need to do something with a far better karmic balance. And it turns out that colleges are full of cute, young guys...so that's not so bad, either. I am juggling only being able to get in 30 hours a week of legal work in DC, so that's a $1,000 a month less income when I need it most. So, I need to make a better push to find something local and lucrative that will accommodate the school schedule for this next year.

But more seriously, I am nervous about whether I will be any good at massage, because if I'm not great at it I won't succeed. But I am also nervous about getting through Anatomy and Physiology, which will be the toughest course in the program and I am taking right now along with Swedish Massage. I've been a professional student, had an amazing memory, was a test-taking machine. That's how I got through law school, an MBA, three bar exams, and into a couple Ph.D programs I abandoned along the way. But since all that I've had two serious concussions. My memory has never been the same. The effects of a traumatic brain injury are so cruel and unpredictable. There are times I look at close friends and for the life of me, I have no idea what their names are. So, more waves. Waves of sadness at the loss of a skill I was very good at, at the loss of memory, at the effects I may never shake, but waves of joy at the potential for a new life, at some new chance to find a purpose, meaning, bliss.

waiheke island

The next four days in Auckland are looking rainy and windy, but with today being perhaps the least rainy I decided to walk to the ferry a few blocks from the hostel and head to Waiheke Island. It's a 45 minute ferry ride and thanks to my wonderful friends Lane and Eli providing a donation towards my adventures, I upgraded this trip from just a ferry ride and all day bus pass to the "Taste of Waiheke" tour with wine and olive oil tastings and a tour of the island. Lane and Eli are oenophiles enough that they even had their wedding reception at a lovely vineyard and rather than a little bag of Jordan almonds as a memento for their guests, we each received a specially-labelled bottle of wine to take home. So, I knew using their "blog subsciption" toward a wine tour would be very appropriate. Thanks Lane and Eli!

First stop was Stonyridge Vineyards. We had tastings of a chardonnay and a merlot. The whites from Stonyridge are all made from grapes from other vineyards farther south in New Zealand, but all the reds are grown on the vineyards there. We enjoyed a lovely lunch with baby greens, delicious spinach quiche, chicken quiche, and cheese and grapes. They gave us a special deal to have a glass of either wine we tasted for NZ$5, so I enjoyed a glass of the merlot called Faithful, named after the vineyard dog, a Labrador Retriever, who passed away four years ago or so. (Yes, I'm missing my pup dog and cats.)

Next stop: Rangihoua Estate olive farm. The olive oils were quite tasty, and each distinctive. My favorite was the one that was actually rated a top 20 olive oil worldwide by some Italian authority. It was just a bit too pricey for me to buy a bottle of olive oil but I couldn't pass up the jar of herb spread for NZ$15, so my Annapolis friends can look forward to trying it when I arrive back home.

Next we stopped at Wild on Waiheke, a local microbrewey. We sampled a pale ale and a porter, (the porter was delicious), and then a ginger beer. The ginger beer was quite nice, better than Goslings, but apparently can't be taken out of the country because it and their cider have no preservatives whatsoever. I would've upgraded to add a shot of local island rhum and make it a dark and storny, but need to get cash and didn't want to run a card for just a little sample shot.

Final stop was Mudbrick Vineyard. http://www.mudbrick.co.nz/ We tasted a Sauvingnon Blanc, Pinot Gris, Bordeaux style red blend, and two Syrah. The grapes grown in New Zealand are quite similar to those that do well in Oregon (Oregon does Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris that are world-renowned). Particularly on this rainy, blustery day, Waiheke reminds me of Oregon in terrain and weather. There truly is something about volcanic soil that makes for amazing wines.

Apparently a few orcas were spotted swimming around the island a couple of days ago so I was hopeful I might see them, but no such luck. I guess they are spotted here a couple of times a year passing through.

I opted to stay on the island and walk around, visit the little shops, and have dinner before heading back to Auckland city. I popped into a beautiful shop of jewellery and sculpture by Paora. I was immediately welcomed by the scent of nag champa incense, which just soothes one's soul. Paora's work is very elegant and unbusy. If my budget were larger I would certainly have picked up a memento of New Zealand there. He was busy carving by hand at his jeweler's bench as we chatted, and it is always so nice to meet the artist rather than just get something mass-produced without personal touch. I tried to pop back in to get a web address to include here and find out if he might have a small koru charm on its own (there were ones attached to various semi-precious stone necklaces running around NZ$90) that I could add to my necklace, but alas he had already closed up for the evening. Here is a beautiful sculpture out in front of his shop, not sure if it is his work but it would seem logical to be.

Oh, here are my awesome Keen shoes that make me really look like a backpacker. I love them.

The shops closed up at 5:00PM so I should have done my window-shopping earlier rather than stopping for a coffee and cookie, but I headed to Sandbar for a burger, fries, and pint of beer for dinner. The outside tables with a great view of the beach are probably hopping on a sunny day. I think between it being winter here and a cold, rainy day, the island was relatively quiet for a Saturday. I'll probably make it an early night and catch a ferry back to Auckland before too long. 

Not sure what surprise will await at the hostel; for some reason one of the girls in the room had to move rooms, which she was upset about. I was grateful because she sleeps all day (so we tip-toe around even at noon) but then she stays up very late and won't turn the lights off. This even though she can easily see her tablet in the dark to read and write, and there are plenty of community spaces she could hang out in for that, but the rest of us would like some peace, quiet, and darkness for getting some sleep. Such are the downsides of dorm living, so fingers crossed whatever new roommates have arrived are better and not worse. I still have to decide what my plan is for tomorrow. I'd like to see the zoo and the unique-to-New Zealand flora and fauna, even though I do hate for animals to be caged. Monday there is a little walking tour from the hostel, so perhaps I won't be late and miss it like I did Friday's. I'd also like to see some of the eclectic and hip areas of town like K'Road, Mt. Eden, and Ponsonby. What I really need to do is get out for a 14 mile run, so perhaps I will rally for that tomorrow morning. I know I will feel better having knocked it out and I don't want my training, (or my figure), to slide any more than it already has.

For folks who may not be up on every exchange rate, when you see the New Zealand dollar prices I lament in these posts, multiply by .85 for the US dollar price. Two things that make the prices sting a smidge less is that (1) they already include tax and (2) tipping is not customary here.

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.

lazing around

The past few days have been cool enough that air conditioning was not a concern and I have been enjoying sleeping with the forward hatch open. I awoke at six this morning with little raindrops coming through the hatch and hitting my face. I hopped up and scrambled around the boat in the twilight to close up open port lights to keep the rain off of books and other stuff and then dropped the forward hatch. The morning has been a rotation of very gentle sprinkles, steady light rain, brief downpours, and dry spells. A friend may have found a used A/C unit to replace my current one, but a rainy day may not be the right time to play around with the largest electrical system on the boat.

I had high hopes for the holiday weekend. I planned to really get the boat cleaned up and company presentable, get the cockpit back to the relaxing environment it was when I first moved aboard. I got off to a good start on Saturday, starting to work my way through the boat with my new mold treatment: a solution of tee tree oil and water. Saturday afternoon I also fiddled around with the VHF radios, (though I never managed to get an automated radio check to work on the inside radio), and hailed the harbormaster's pump out boat. It was my first time using the pump out boat, and I'll enjoy the convenience of that service until it shuts down after boat show. The tank was not yet full after seven weeks.

I was off to a good start, but my Saturday night became more of a party than I had initially planned, and Sunday was spent trying to keep down ginger ale and Gatorade and nibbling Saltines. When I went topsides on Sunday there was wine spilled all over the deck and cockpit. I even found spots of red wine spilled on the dog--what a bad mother I am! (I wasn't actually the one spilling wine everywhere, at least). The kitchen counter was piled with shot glasses. I think a good time was had by all. Well, except my poor tummy, which can no longer handle red wine without a full meal and in small quantities.

Monday I ran out for a meeting midday and then rather than dive into all my projects I lounged on the boat napping and watching almost all of season two of Game of Thrones. Sometimes we all need to just rest and vegetate a bit, I guess this weekend was my turn to laze around.

The big event this weekend at my little marina was the departure of one of my dockmates, the Eleanor Q. Frank and Mary Marie have been preparing their beautiful Gozzard for cruising and have been living aboard her the past few weeks. Memorial Day was the day they finally shoved off and took the dock lines with them. Buttercup will miss Frank throwing a ball for her and following them both around trying to "help" with whatever project they may be working on. They are headed north first and then down to the islands. Check out their blog Voyages of the Eleanor Q. They were great neighbors and will be missed, but hopefully we'll shove off ourselves and run into them in the islands down the line.

I'm frustrated that the remote project I'd been working on since September did not work out. I had been hoping that it would be profitable enough to cover core expenses and allow us to take off and cruise. Unfortunately, it did not turn out to be as profitable as hoped, was plagued with delays and difficulties, and I felt I had to cut my losses rather than continue to bleed time into it. Right now I am not here because I want to be, but because I lack the resources to go. It's not that I dislike it here, but I want my freedom so badly, want to be able to cast off the lines and go wherever, whenever I please. I know, we all want freedom and almost all of us simply have to endure a life without it. But I do not want to surrender so easily, do not want to live each day just to get by.

Another liveaboard friend has started a blog, but not about living aboard. She is undertaking a project in which various of her friends get to write one-month chapters of her life--giving her challenges to test herself, delve into her weaknesses, and embrace personal growth in a very out-of-the-ordinary way. Take a stroll over to living chapters and check it out.

crying over split sangria

Friday night I was heading over to Port Annapolis marina for a Happy Hour en Español. I was really looking forward to it, and planned ahead to make sangria, which really benefits from marinating overnight. Although I did not have the Gran Marnier I often like to add, or a dash of pineapple juice to toss in the mix, both the red and white sangria turned out quite good nonetheless. For the white I used about 64 ounces of pinot grigio, a shot of Bärenjäger honey liqueur, half a bottle of ginger ale, half a Gala apple, half a Valencia orange, and half a D'Anjou pear.

For the red I used a double-bottle of merlot contributed by a fellow happy hour-er, a bottle of ginger ale, half a Gala apple, half a Valencia orange, and half a D'Anjou pear.

I also made my "not quite refried" beans in the pressure cooker. My first truly scratch item cooked aboard on my propane stove! A half pound of pinto beans soaked overnight, a medium-sized sweet onion quartered, three minced garlic cloves, salt and pepper, a couple tablespoons of olive oil, and three cups of water. 40 minutes under pressure and they were done. I had forgotten my stick blender, which gives them the smooth texture of refried beans, but smashing them in the pot with a wooden spoon worked just fine. I layered the beans with salsa and some nice queso fresco, threw a bag of tortilla chips in my bag, and headed out. As my usual compatriot who drives the dinghy across the creek was under the weather, I planned to drive over by car and stop on the way to let him sample the sangria--he did supply the red wine.

En route to the car the container of red sangria slipped from my grip, crashed to the ground, and shattered. The bathhouse door looked like a crime scene with red wine splashed several feet up and across it. I was stunned and frustrated. I put special effort making it for my friends and had so looked forward to enjoying it with everyone. I stopped by my sick friend's to at least let him try the white sangria but ended up drowning my sorrows in pretty much the entire container of white sangria. I never made it to the party, and had to re-learn the lesson that anything more than two glasses of wine doesn't stay down in my tummy for long. I seem to really struggle with that lesson. How is it that I drank about a pint of bourbon neat one night with the floppy-haired sailor and didn't puke, but even white wine now sets off the little acid pumps in my stomach without mercy? Sigh.

Yesterday may have been the first day in a month that the boat was level with the dock! What a difference to be able to get the dog off the boat a few times with relative ease. The cats have both now decided to be serious escape artists, however. They perch at the top step and leap out as soon as I open the hatch door. Max runs right ashore, but cries out at regular intervals in this odd little Marco-Polo game. I'm glad he does it so I can keep track of him, at least. I assume it means he's unsure and wanting to let me know where he is. Hunter tends to stay aboard, but gets more interested in the water and the dinghy than suits my comfort level. I want them to be able to enjoy the sunshine and fresh air, but will feel much better if they only go out when we're away from shore. They just don't understand the perils of the world--cars, mean dogs, mean people, raccoons, osprey, and more.

Hunter looking intense and ready to pounce

Hunter was rubbing his cheeks on everything to mark the topsides as his territory.

Here are some photos of a foggy evening on Back Creek with the water smooth as glass.