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.

project: window insulation

I should have tackled this project much earlier in the season, but this morning I managed to get through the first step of my window insulation project. All but one port light is now lined with bubble wrap. (I ran out of double-stick tape to do the last window so I'll knock it out once I've made a run to the store.)

I also have window shrink wrap, so I may add another layer of bubble wrap to the larger windows and then shrink wrap them. I've been told this small project will really help keep the boat warmer, and since I have metered electric, that will hopefully translate into some financial savings for me, as well. I figure I will leave the insulation up year-round since keeping cool air-conditioned air inside in the summer will be just as useful as keeping the heat inside in the winter.

In keeping with the maxim that every item on a boat should serve a least two functions, these are now my "curtains" as well. They have the nice benefit of allowing in light but very much obscuring the view for privacy. I had planned to sew curtains from some beautiful natural linen fabric I have, but I think curtains will actually make the interior look smaller and more cluttered. I may reconsider wanting curtains come springtime when I open those port lights and want the privacy...but for now I'm happy with my multitasking bubble wrap.

The other insulation-related tasks I still have to get to include filling the forward hatch with big fluffy insulation, tucking big fluffy insulation around the holding tank and random other places I find to fit it that are not otherwise storing things, and placing the pieces of Reflectix that I have up against the hull wherever I can to fight condensation and mold and to insulate the boat.

Christmas dinner last night... heat and serve mac and cheese.

It's not like my homemade, but it's pretty good and I'm very glad the holiday is over. Three years ago was the last Christmas I spent with my father. I was there at the cabin in Oregon, cooked up a feast, and watched football with my dad. This was the first Christmas since he died, and the holidays are now just a reminder that he's gone. Without a significant other or children to share the holidays with, I'd rather just fast-forward to spring.

Solar charger update: I charged up the Opteka solar panel I bought on Amazon and decided to try it out for charging my cell phone. It took a few hours to charge my phone from 55% to 100% but the solar panel still had juice in it.

It's nice to know I have that emergency back-up, even if it does require sunny weather. Today is a frightful mix of snow, sleet, and rain...another perilous trip down the finger pier, so pup dog is in for the day and I am hopeful it will just be raining when I need to take her out this evening.

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.

what goes up, must come down

Well, this morning the problem was the crazy low tide!

I couldn't budge the boat closer to the dock to let the pup dog ashore. I figured we were aground. But no, the stern lines were just way, way too tight due to the low tide. I definitely should have gone out in the night to loosen them up... And because they were so tight and with incredible load, I couldn't get the cleat hitch undone on either stern line...well, the initial hitch was no problem, but where the line wrapped around the cleat it was "trapped" in place by the tension of the line running to the piling.

I was beginning to think I'd either have to wait for the tide to come in or cut the lines... and believe me, between both the expense of these fancy New England Ropes dock lines and the emotional investment in them from having spliced them with the floppy-haired sailor guy, I was loathe to consider cutting them unless they were going to sink the boat. So I sat there wiggling them and waiting for any millimeter of slack caused by a wind gust, and eventually managed to tease them free. Once I had loosened the starboard stern line I was able to pull the boat over to the dock (I have now looped a spare line around the dock piling just for this purpose). Pup dog still looked askance at me asking her to jump up so high to that narrow finger pier, but her need to piddle eventually outweighed her hesitation. Getting her to reverse the process and make that long jump down onto the narrow side deck...not happening. So she's leashed to an Adirondack chair ashore, braving the cold wind and, hopefully, enjoying the sunny day to watch the ducks.

the tide is high, but I'm holding on

When I looked at the weather forecast yesterday and saw a gale warning in effect I got a bit worried about the winds and potential loss of power. The power did go out--for all of Annapolis--but it was a major transmission line that went down, rather than a weather-related outage. Gratefully, my shorepower came back on after an hour-and-a-half; a longer-term outage during the cold weather would be very problematic for the engine, water tank, holding tank, and the pets. A small generator to run from the dock in case of emergency would be a good idea, but the budget currently has other priorities.

Hardly got any sleep during the night with the boat rocking and rolling in the steady wind and strong gusts. It's not any inability to sleep with the rocking--that is one of the things I most love about sleeping aboard--but when it's really blowing I am in alert-mode trying to monitor all the sounds and movements of the boat to protect her from harm. On one trip out to adjust lines a gust snatched the hatch door out of my hands and tossed it in the cockpit. (Note my West Epoxy job held, though!) I kept hearing squeaking fenders and boat-versus-piling noises, but they appear to be other boats I'm hearing as my lines seem to be keeping me where I need to be in my slip.

I failed to anticipate the extremely high tide, however. Higher than the surge from Sandy. When I took the pup dog above this morning to head ashore we were high above the finger pier and she just gave me a look. "OK, we'll try in a couple hours when it's gone down a bit." Ooops! That was a good four hours before high tide; it was only going to get worse. I have tide clock apps on my phone, but really need a tide clock on the wall so it just becomes ingrained. It can be difficult for me to board and disembark the boat at a particularly high or low tide, but with the dog it can become far too difficult to manage safely.

I adjusted lines, pulled the boat as close to the pier as possible and begged pup dog to go for it. She managed and then I realized how difficult it would be for either of us to get back aboard. I went below and gathered laundry, a change of clothes, a book, and prepared to spend the day ashore until the tide brought the pier and deck closer to equilibrium. Here's a photo right after I jumped the few feet down from the deck to the dock; it doesn't seem like a big deal until you have to do it, arms full of stuff, and only a narrow pier to land on.

The entire intersection and park in front of Davis' Pub was flooded.

At Davis' I caught up with a guy known to be handy with boat fixes and explained that I'm in rather a jam to get my water pump fixed and need some hired help doing it. I also mentioned that it'd mean a lot to me to be able to cook aboard on Christmas, so if he could help me with setting up the propane for the stove and oven, I would be really happy. Basically, I have a lot of work to do on the boat, but tomorrow I just want to get the very basics: water and fire. Then we can start tackling the rest.

I needed to make an exchange at Target and utterly failed to think through that this is the Friday before Christmas. The traffic disaster in the parking garage, surrounding the shopping center, and within a ten block radius of the Annapolis Mall was ridiculous. So if you saw some crazy girl mumbling and cursing all the people buying cheap plastic crap from China for their kids for Christmas...yeah, that was me.

I usually do love Christmastime; though I hate the shopping and gifts part, I love decorating the tree and singing carols and cooking (oft-non-traditional) holiday feasts. But it doesn't feel like Christmas at all to me this year. I'm not doing any shopping, not sending any cards; honestly, that's a relief. But it's the first Christmas I can't call my father. The last two times I spoke with him were the day before he died and last Christmas Eve. And I'm in love with someone who doesn't celebrate Christmas or me, so the holidays are just a reminder of being alone.

Needed to wait out the tide, so I spent a few hours at my office, doing laundry, locating items for the upcoming trip to Miami and Key West, and baking garlic cheddar biscuits and orange-infused bittersweet break-up brownies. I think I needed the meditation of baking a pizza and kneading the dough. Or the lengthy distraction of baking a cake. But I filled a bag with biscuits that I can re-heat in the microwave aboard and made two dozen brownies, so I can practice some random acts of sweetness during the holidays.

By the time we arrived back at the boat, she was level with the finger pier and I simply had to pull her closer against the wind to get the pup to hop aboard. Once I settled in on the settee the entire pack, dog and two cats, climbed up to snuggle and prepare for another gusty night.

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!