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.

bowed, bent, broken

Once again, apologies for the delay in posting. Here's what's been going on, mostly in photographs.

My dockmate next door left so I moved into his slip to get a smidge more privacy. The engine still won't start, so I rounded up a slew of sailors more experienced than me and they moved me on the lines. I put the dodger back on, so the cats quickly gave their approval to the new napping spot.

The new view from the bow.

An obligatory selfie.

Pup dog was nervous about the finger pier.

Moving my cable TV and high-speed internet was a nightmare and left me 5 days "unplugged" from the interwebs. But--thanks to the old gods and the new--it was back up and running in time for Game of Thrones. The Comcast tech was a good sport having to get on the very tippy work float to repair the cable at the new slip.

Installing the portable air conditioning was a nightmare and it is no where strong enough to keep us cool. It's still hellish and 80 inside if it warms up outside at all. And naturally rain still gets in the port light despite all my creative efforts to stop it. I will probably have to get a window unit to help the other one (that cost my last $300) and just put it in the companionway. Meh. I can't leave the boat to work in DC and have the pets sweltering.

This set up was so-so. Then I tried venting to the engine room, which was a total fail. Back to the port light but with gobs and gobs of insulation foam stuff and duct tape. But it still doesn't freaking stay, keep the water out, or cool the boat enough. Can we just catch a break over here!?

I used a piece of plexi to make a rain shield but the problem is the water still settles in the sill and doesn't drain out. I've got a new plan for that to work on this weekend. But I did drill through the plexi successfully after earlier having an idiot guy try to show me a stupid way that would have cracked it. Now I feel I will be able to drill into my plexi temp hatch (that leaked buckets of water during a recent storm)... just takes patience and a brain, things that guy sorely lacked. There's a story to be told there, but quite frankly, he's not worth the effort so I won't.

Pup dog wasn't loving the new slip and boarding so I bought new mats for her since she's afraid to walk on bare decks. These still slip a bit, but are better, and very squishy (they are kitchen mats not door mats).

The smaller piece on the side deck kept sliding and apparently went overboard one day when the dog walker took pup out. C'est la vie. Pup is much more confident jumping to the finger pier since I nailed down some door mats, which were too slippery on the decks anyway.

Since I've become a dock queen against my will, I decided to embrace the suck and have a deck garden. I have a black thumb so the pink flowers already look sad compared to the photo. But I planted some zucchini seeds and have basil and mint.

The eisenglass on the bimini was cracked and yellowed, so I just cut it all out. Now it's just sort of a bizarre canvas skeleton.

I took a Mother's Day selfie with my fur-baby. I would've been a great mom; oh, well. I've got awesome pets so I'm blessed.

Basically everything on the boat is broken, and that now includes the fridge. So I had to put everything in a cooler. Now I'm trying to get by with block ice in the icebox but it melts so fast, is expensive, and probably doesn't keep things cold enough to be really safe. A guy has said he'd drop off a mini fridge but I've learned the hard way that there is only one person in the world I can rely on--moi! 

But, hey, my baby zucchinis are sprouting! Yay! I planted these seeds and now they are turning into real plants and I haven't killed them yet. Miracles happen!

The batteries are still not fully installed and the technician I hoped to have come work on that and some other projects doesn't respond to my emails (though I always paid him promptly and even offered cash). I'm trying to pay people and still they don't come through. I'm killing myself commuting to DC to work but it takes a week of work just to pay for the cost of the commute (bus fare + dog walking). Another week of work to pay for the slip. I can only get six hours of sleep a night with the commute/work schedule and no exercise, so I'm falling apart at the seams. Just impossible to make any headway. Somehow I have to get the boat in decent-enough shape to get out of here and get her somewhere more affordable and where there is potential to have a life.

I'm going to try to be better to myself. To go do some of the things I want to do and stop spending my little "free" time doing things I'm not excited about. So back to flying solo! Two bands I like are playing tomorrow night at two different spots downtown so I might just get all dolled-up and go out a bit if I can get enough done not to feel overly guilty. We'll see. 

Everything in my life seems to be broken, but somehow I manage to bend, and roll with it, and keep going without breaking. I'm not sure how, and sometimes I just get so tired. But every night I tell the boat how much we love her, how she has saved our lives literally and figuratively, how I am trying, how I am so sorry I haven't brought her back to her former glory. We just need her be resilient a little longer, to be patient a little longer, until we can breathe new life into her. 

close hauled

Sorry for the delay in posting... life has been hectic and I've been sailing upwind literally and figuratively.  I managed to get out for a sail on Easter... not on my boat but on a J/80 at a local boating club where a friend I work with is a member. We headed out again a couple weeks later. The wind was very light at first but kicked up as the afternoon progressed. I only wrapped the jib sheet counterclockwise on the winch once. Doh!

The big project I am thrilled about is the removal of the old RV HVAC unit from the cabin top. It was hideously ugly and so embarrassing. And I couldn't see over it when sailing. I can't afford the proper replacement hatch ($1049 for the Bomar 100 Series hatch on Defender), but I have a piece of plexiglass over the hatch as a temporary fix. The plexi didn't take well to the old 4200 we tried to use, but it isn't leaking and before I try again with black silicone I may see if someone can build a wooden hatch top without breaking the bank since the prior owners had left the old hatch bottom piece in place when they put in the air conditioner. Here are some photos of the old AC unit and my new temp plexi fix.

Of course I am currently without air conditioning which will become intolerable for me and the pets in about a week. I'll likely have to spring a few hundred for a portable room air conditioner and figure out how to vent it out a hatch without letting rain in. 

I also made it out fishing on the second day of trophy rockfish season. I caught the only fish of the day, a big girl just shy of 36". We ran 16 trolling lines, 14 off planer boards. For the fisherman: the keeper was caught on a white parachute on a tandem rig. 

I caught up with one of the charter captains from that marina and gave him my card. Lo and behold he called me a few days later asking if I could work charters this Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, but I had just picked up a project in DC and had to decline. I was definitely disappointed to turn down the chance to go out on another boat since every captain does things differently, which is a great chance to learn. And getting paid to spend the day on the water fishing is never a bad thing. Hopefully I will be able to sync up with him at some point this season when I am between DC gigs. 

The next project I began tackling was stripping the chipped, yellowed old Cetol off the teak. I hate the look of it and that it is all chipped and peeling makes the boat look shabby. It will be a labor-intensive, time-consuming job, but if I can knock out little sections for a couple of hours here and there I'll eventually get it all off and be able to start lightly sanding and then sealing the teak. I definitely do not see varnish fitting into my lackidaisical lifestyle and I actually like the soft gray of weathered teak, so I am thinking about using clear Semco sealant to give the teak some protection without changing the color. We'll see; I was all psyched up to knock it all out quickly since I wasn't expecting any projects in DC until mid-May, but I just picked up a small project and with the cost of all the boat projects I can't afford to turn it down.

This past Saturday I had my old batteries removed and new ones delivered. It was so worth paying for a couple of young guys to deal with removing the huge, heavy 4Ds! I was definitely maxed out lifting the new 6V batteries that are going in and those only weigh 64 pounds each. The battery box needs some work and the water pump is (crazily) installed right on top of the batteries, so my friend doing the install just hooked up two of the 6V batteries and the new group 31 dual purpose (i.e., high cold cracking amp and deep cycle) starting battery. We'll relocate the water pump, fix up the box, figure out a good strap system to keep the batteries from sliding around when sailing, and set the bank up properly. The four 220AH 6Vs will be two series that are then paralleled together to make one bank with 440 12V amp hours. Knowing it is bad for batteries to ever be drawn down more than 50 percent, that gives me a maximum electrical budget of 220 amp hours before charging, but I will try to avoid ever cycling them down that far. My single biggest electrical draw (outside of heat or air conditioning, which are only possible when hooked up to shore power anyway) is my 12V fridge, which draws 5 amps when running. In the heat of summer that could add up to as much as 120AH if the reefer is going 24/7. Power management is probably the hardest thing for people to adjust to moving aboard and so critical. Luckily I went into the process knowing that and never buy any electrical appliance without asking how many amps it draws (which always raises eyebrows with non-boaters). Here's a photo of one of the old 4Ds and then my shiny new batteries.

The battery replacement project was primarily driven by the need to get the engine to start. Unfortunately, when I tried to start her up yesterday it was the same sad sound of the starter just not making anything happen. So now I've got another mystery to solve and project to tackle. I just want to get her out of the slip! It's incredibly frustrating being a dock queen when I want to get her out as much as possible. As usual, I either have the time to work on the boat but no money for parts and labor or I am making money but have no time to get to the projects. I'm just trying to find a balance and plow ahead to make progress as best I can. 

Yesterday I went to the spring sailboat show. It was the first show in Annapolis when I could actually buy something. Every other time I've gone I'm broke. I usually buy one overpriced Painkiller from Pusser's and a couple of sail ties. This time I could spend up to $200. I was hoping to find a nice pair of flip-flops and a good foulie jacket a little lighter weight than my offfshore one. But the spring show is just so small there aren't very many vendors. I also went with friends who are boat-shopping, so we spent most of the time climbing on used boats for sale. I don't normally look at any of the boats at the show since I already have a boat and seeing fancier ones just makes me feel bad. But going with a group makes it much more fun. So all I ended up spending was a $5 tip at the complimentary Paladar rum and food tent and $12 show ticket. 

Lots of projects ahead and an upside-down hectic life as usual, but I still wouldn't trade it for the world. 

going nowhere

Apologies for not having written more frequently. There simply hasn't been anything good or particularly interesting to report. Being here is being in a state of going nowhere. Which is exactly what I don't want or need. I wanted to be leaving this place today, so feeling stuck here, in this nothing place, makes me feel hopeless.

In hindsight, Annapolis was not a good choice for me. I've accomplished nothing in my time here and simply continued the decades-long trend of every year being a little worse off than the last. For a time I felt this stop along the way was a necessary respite, a chance to get centered and heal after horrible relationships I finally escaped. But if that was the case I have long overstayed my time. There is no opportunity for me here, nothing to keep me here, nothing that even moves me to leave the boat any given day other than the the need to walk the dog. If only I'd had the sense to buy a boat and sail away seven years ago when I had the financial wherewithal to do it. But, alas, hindsight is always 20/20.

I am grateful nonetheless for the handful of good friends I made by coming north and for my beloved boat, which has saved me literally and figuratively. But the time to move on has come and gone and the migration must become a priority. Life kicks me around and I do get down, but the one constant in my life is my resiliency. And I guess deep down I wouldn't trade that for success, or money, or love.

The winter has been long but now spring is beginning to bloom. Gone are these eerie, foggy mornings with chunks of ice covering the Bay.

Once the ice thawed in the marina and on the creek, there were so many dead things floating by. Dead fish, dead ducks. As if surviving the disgusting polluted Bay wasn't hard enough, the winter had to stress everything just that much more, including me. 

Three months without work, particularly over the holidays, was rough and depressing. Gratefully a few projects have come through here and there recently. Nothing long-term or permanent, but nothing along those lines ever works out for this stridently independent gal anyway. I have to chart my own course or things quickly go to hell. If I can keep netting little consulting gigs here and there to keep fed and gradually get the boat in cruising shape, that's all I really need. The only reason to have money is for the freedom it buys. The stuff, the things, they are all a trap and an illusion. All I want is to be free.

I am close to being able to replace the house and starting batteries aboard, which is critical since I have been stranded in my slip since last February. Then come solar panels. I have some repairs to make for which I already have the parts but need to figure out how to do the wiring myself or hire some help, and I will need help getting the chart plotter installed. Then I need to remove the awful old HVAC from the cabin top and put on a hatch (about $500 for the hatch, ouch) and I could do to replace all the running rigging (about another $500). So, yeah, freedom ain't cheap. I love how people think it's inexpensive to live aboard because dockage isn't as pricey as renting an apartment. I just figure the people who make that comment have never looked at the prices at West Marine. 

From the "people suck" category: There is a house in Eastport that we sometimes pass on our walks and the owner kept a jar of dog treats out front for passersby. They were labeled "Puppy Pause." They were just a cheery, neighborly thing that made pup dog happy. But someone stole the Puppy Pause treats. Seriously? Do people have no sense of right and wrong any more? From little things like that to all the atrocities in the world, it's just disheartening that people are so mean and dumb. As one friend of mine says, "We've done too much to interfere with Darwin." Amen. 

So as if I didn't have enough projects to tackle, for which I generally lack funds, ability, or both, now my galley sink was clogged and while draining better, it is still slow. I'm not looking forward to taking everything apart again to try to snake it farther down the hose. I'm hoping that eventually the combination of treating it with boiling water and Super Digest-It will clear out the rest of the grease. I wish I could say I did the initial job my self, but I'd probably still be trying to get the damn PVC connections loose. No, I sunk really low and played the damsel-in-distress card and flashed a smile at a neighboring powerboater who took the pipes and hoses apart much faster than I could have. Here are some photos of the mess. When I let that grease go down the drain and it hit the cold temps it formed a perfect sealant with coffee grounds mixed in for good measure. Live and learn. Very stupid mistake that I won't repeat.

In other news, since I finally had a couple bucks to my name I headed for a haircut after five months since the last one. I chopped seven inches off my hair. The curls are so much happier and I may take a few more inches off next time. I want to say I was raised by wolves, but that would be an insult to wolves. But, yeah, it would have been nice to have had a mom to teach me girly things like that I have naturally curly hair that I have spent most of my life trying to make straight. Ugh. Anyway... I love the new cut and if I get it to dry with happy, bouncy curls I can even sleep on it and have it look presentable enough for a couple days. It seems like winter hasn't quite left us, but in Maryland it's pretty certain that I'll need air-conditioning within a month so having less hair to stick to me in the humidity will be pretty cool. My hair hasn't been this "short" in a decade so, as you may have surmised, this is a big change for me and I'm excited. And, of course, it'll grow back if I freak out. I may not be free yet, but trying to at least let my curls be. 

all clogged up

So... I have to admit to a major F-up with my galley sink. I put coffee grounds down the sink every day and know others who do as well, and in two-and-a-half years this has never been a problem. But last week I cooked up some ground beef that was 80/20 instead of my usual super lean 94/6, and I decided I needed to drain off that grease. And it just didn't occur to me in the moment that putting that grease down the galley sink was a huge no-no. I saw it start hardening in the sink and tried to wipe it up but too much had already gone down the drain. Very rookie mistake... I was just too caught up in my cooking and not thinking things through.

A few days later... the sink drained more and more slowly and for the last three days it has been fully stopped. I have poured boiling water and plunged, to no avail. I tried one of the other tips from The Boat Galley, baking soda and vinegar, but it just foams up into the sink instead of down into the clog. I won't have any cash until Wednesday, but then I will try to pick up some Super Digest-It enzyme-based drain cleaner that will, fingers crossed, eat through the grease. (Normal household drain cleaner will eat right through the hoses aboard so that isn't an option.)  

 

The PVC to hose connection looks to be on the permanent side, so I think if I have to disconnect them to clear it, I will have to invest in new hose and PVC... more of a project than I really wanted to add to my plate right now. I scooped and turkey-bastered all the water in the two sinks into a bucket and then tried the baking soda and vinegar concoction again, but if that doesn't help, I'll have to keep doing dishes in the bathhouse sink this week. Not fun. 

Yep, living the dream...

arctic blast

If you need any motivation to sail south, here it is. Even with one of my two little space heaters aimed into the engine room, this latest arctic blast has the water pump frozen yet again. It's been over 24 hours without running water and no end in sight with another storm coming tonight (allegedly 5-10 inches of snow coming overnight) followed by several more frigid days. (Anyone in Annapolis want to loan me a spare oil-filled space heater?)

The storm on Saturday night was awful, and stressed me and the pets much more than Sandy, which we mostly slept through. I took an extra pill to try to help me sleep but we were sailing in our slip and the noise of the wind whipping everything outside kept me up most of the night. The worst feeling is when a gust hits and my stomach is in my throat fearing a crash into the dock. We had sustained winds around 40 knots and gusts of at least 47 knots, likely more. I heard some terrible flapping above the v-berth as I tried to sleep and had images of my headsail completely unfurled, flogging wildly, being ripped to shreds by the winds. A few inches of snow had fallen and everything outside was iced and slippery, so with the ferocious winds and a decent chop in the marina's icy waters, I did not want to risk going topsides in the middle of the night. I popped my head out the companionway about 1:30AM. Miraculously the sail was fine. I was likely hearing three flags ashore that are basically just above my bow. The bimini cover I had slung over the boom and secured with bungees was a noise culprit, however. One bungee had worked its way free and the fabric was thrashing about. From the companionway steps I managed to reach the other bungees, unhook the fabric, and pull it inside. 

One of the main challenges with these rough north winds is managing my lines. The north winds blow all the water down the Bay, dropping the water level easily 3 feet instead of our normal 1 foot lunar tides. When the water is low I'm aground and can't move the boat closer to the dock. So I want the boat as close to the pilings as possible so I can climb off the boat, but I also don't want to be banging into the dock in the high winds. So, it's a delicate balance and a gamble every time. This time I lost the gamble. When day broke the boat was actually not badly positioned by the dock. But my lines were completely tight, which overly stresses deck hardware. So I loosened one of the stern lines. In my defense, I hadn't had my morning coffee yet. But I gave slack to the absolute wrong line. I must have been thinking I didn't want to loosen the one keeping me from hitting the dock, but by releasing the other line, which kept me close to the dock, it allowed the boat to move. Except that we were already sunk into the mud, which is why I probably thought it wouldn't matter. 

And nothing happened right then. But by the time I had made my coffee and I was all bundled up to walk the dog, the boat had leaned over to port enough that at the boarding gate I was now a couple feet away, (and a few feet below), the dock. No way I could climb over to the dock. I put the dog ramp from the cabin top to the dock and sent the dog ashore to piddle on the snow. The dockmaster put her back on the ramp to come back aboard. But I was stranded. Inside, things on the starboard side of the boat were sliding to port and I struggled not to roll off the settee. Thank Poseidon for my gimbaled stove.

In the afternoon I knew the dog really needed another break and I was almost out of water for tea, cooking, flushing, et cetera. I needed to get ashore. I tried using a winch on a line to pull the boat upright, as if I was going to be able to grind a 20,000 pound boat upright. Not likely. I saw someone ashore and asked if they'd hold the dog ramp steady for the dog to get off since it was stretched as far as possible but just barely reaching across. Pup made it, but what about me? The dog ramp is not intended for people use. Even though it supposedly can handle a 200 pound dog, dogs are on four legs and lower to the ground. I didn't see any other way to make it happen so I crawled on my hands and knees on the ramp. It was pretty terrifying, but going back was worse. Only one corner was really resting on the cabin top. I convinced someone to hold onto the dock end, (one corner was tied to a cleat, but it could still fall away from the dock), but I was risking my weight causing the ramp to retract. The icy mud below with no ladder nearby is a very frightening prospect. It's not that I'm afraid of heights... but I am absolutely terrified of falling.

I went to bed early but luckily awoke a little after midnight and popped my head out the companionway to see if there was any slack in the lines. The water had risen enough to slack the line and bring the boat mostly back level. I hurried out and took in the slack in the line while I had the chance. This morning it was still just too far to try to get across and up to the dock. The only way I might be able to reach is to stand on the toe rail but at that spot it has a stainless steel track that is very, very slippery. I sent the dog over her ramp, took a deep breath, and slowly crawled over on the ramp. I thought I'd be able to sit on the dock, stretch a leg down to the deck, and launch myself down to the boat. But it was just too far for me. Maybe I'm a total scaredy-cat, but I don't just jump a couple feet down onto my boat, especially not when the deck is covered in ice and one misstep means falling between the boat and dock into the ice-covered water. So I risked the dog ramp again, which was especially scary with no one to hold onto the ramp to keep it from sliding off the dock. But I made it; whew.  As you can see from the photo above, the water is now covered in a sheet of ice except across the fairway where the ice-eater can only keep one slip clear.

Now I'm hoping the tide comes up a bit and makes it easier for me to get ashore. One of the cats peed on the bed at some point last night so I have to wash all the bedding. In case I haven't mentioned it before, making the bed in the v-berth is my absolute least-favorite boat chore. It is an unmitigated pain in the ass and is certain to end in tears if I don't have a couple adult beverages before trying to make the bed. If I ever have any money I must get fitted or drawstring sheets for the sake of my mental health. Since we are in for our biggest snow storm so far this season beginning late this afternoon, I'd also like to get in a run if possible. I ran 30 miles last week and the plan is to maintain that going forward. I'm down a couple pounds and half and inch so I don't want to lose momentum, especially since I've had to eat carb-heavy stuff like pancakes, rolls, biscuits, and dumplings since the pantry is close to bare (other than flour) and I'm still weeks away from making any money. But I just don't know if I can face running in sub-20-degree weather and snow this week. I can't afford to join a gym to run inside and I did one run last week on the "dreadmill" at a friend's gym and it was awful. I'd rather run 10 miles outside than 5 on a treadmill. I need to be doing yoga anyway, but an hour of yoga will only burn 150-200 calories, versus a good 700 calories if I run 6 miles. We'll see. My feet are still cold from walking the dog 3 hours ago, so I have a feeling when I finish writing this I'll climb ashore for a hot shower and admit the run isn't going to happen today.

Dear weather gods... please let it be spring. Not summer, because I don't have any air conditioning. Just spring. Just 70 degrees and no humidity and sunny every day.

P.S. I'm trying to be better about posting on Running Rabbit Kitchen; so if the cooking / food porn stuff interests you, check out the "what's cooking" link now and then or subscribe to receive new posts via email so they just come right to you.