I can see (more) clearly now...

Or, "out with the old, in with the new."
I had the good fortune to buy new portholes at a bargain price. The fellow down the dock ordered extra portholes for his boat and had two left over. He sold them to me for the volume discount price that he received.
He's now on this year's Christmas card list.
After talking it over with him and a few other people, I undertook the task of installing them.
It's not as difficult as it would seem to be.
Prying out the old porthole took a bit of doing as they were caulked shut for ten years and the mounting screws had been in place for 40 years.

40 year-old porthole

To get a proper seal, the mounting surfaces must be clean, clean, clean as a friend of mine would say. That requires mineral spirits, towels, and a way to remove the old sealant. Just because the sealant is old doesn't mean it's gonna be easy to take off. I used my Dremel tool set to a medium speed and a wire wheel to remove the old stuff. Be careful to keep moving and don't bear down more than necessary to do the job.

Removing the old sealant

Take your time and be thorough. New sealant won't stick to old sealant so get it all off. Wipe the area with mineral spirits and let dry.
In my case, the new porthole matched almost perfectly with the old. The one adjustment to be made was where the drains fit. Again, out came the Dremel tool. Using a routing bit, I was able to clear out the needed space. Wear safety glasses, and don't breathe the dust. Wipe the whole thing with mineral spirits.

Adjusting for the new drains

I kept test fitting until I had it right. Once the new porthole popped in without resistance, I was ready to drill the new mounting holes.
Using the porthole as the template, I drilled the holes using the appropriate (1/4") drill bit. Use a sharp bit and don't force it. Let the bit do the work. Clean the area using mineral spirits and remove all of the dust.
Drill the trim ring to match the porthole holes. The twist was that the trim ring holes had to be one bit larger (5/8") to accommodate the barrel bolts I was using to sandwich the assembly together. I used the porthole as a template and drilled the holes to the 1/4" size and then separately re-drilled the trim ring to the 5/8" size.
Once done, test fit everything BEFORE opening up the tube of sealant. This way you will escape the trap of getting sealant all over the place and then finding out that one or more of the holes don't line up. Don't ask how I know this. Just trust me.
Now you're ready to get really messy.
For this step I suggest not working in direct sunlight or in the heat of the day. The sealant will skin over quickly, reducing your working time.
Apply a wide bead of sealant to the area around the porthole. Be generous. You want the stuff to squeeze out around the trim ring to indicate full coverage.
Make the assembly and install all of the bolts. Tighten them as needed.
Use a tool to remove the excess sealant from around the trim ring and use mineral spirits to clean the rest of the sealant from the area. The use of mineral spirits will keep the sealant from drying too quickly and when finished, will give a professional finish to the job.

The finished product

Well, then.

I like birds as much as the next guy but this is ridiculous.
The last few weeks have been a bit like a Hitchcock movie. You might say, "Jeff, you weenie, seagulls are a part of the deal," and you would be right. Like other marinas, there is also the local Osprey and some Pelicans.
Where this place departs from normal is the hundreds of blackbirds. They roost on the roof of the nearby restaurant and many of the boats, mine included.

The little buggers are just like seagulls. They steal scraps from the tables of the restaurant and, since they cannot be housebroken, drop said scraps and their leavings on the decks of the boats. Again, mine included.
It is a normal morning to pick up two or three bones from the deck.
What a pain.
Add to that the hundreds of seagulls doing the same thing and I begin to wonder the wisdom of moving here. Also, are the restaurant customers actually getting to eat before the birds make off with the food?
Add to that the pigeons shamelessly making little pigeons right there on the dock. Sheesh!
Spring time in Florida.

Hmm. Puerto Rico

This is one of those days when I just can't seem to get away from the starting line. Sure, I have things to do but I seem to have left my get-up-and-go somewhere else.
I'm now working part time at West Marine. It's an interesting place to be and I'm afraid I fit in a bit too well with the other "older" gentlemen there. You know the kind: thinning grey hair, white beards, a few years in the face. Yep. That's me. I chuckle when I look at and talk to these guys. We all have our "life before West Marine" stories.
Most were professionals. Office types and glad to be out of the rat race. The kids are all grown and the condo life is just fine.
Surprisingly, some have been with WM as many as 20 years or more. That's as long as my tech writing career. To think that I could be here 20 years is not out of the realm of possibility. Mind you, I'm a relatively young man not yet 60!
I'm okay with that.
I like chatting with boaters,cruisers and contractors. I actually have some experience and knowledge of what I'm talking about and I enjoy talking with new boaters.
As for education, West Marine has an impressive amount of information stored in their catalog and online. Part of the attraction of working there is the online classes and tests made available to me as an associate.
It's a bit like drinking from a fire hose. You could make a career out of each department: Electrical, sanitation, plumbing, safety, Fiberglas repair, paint and so on.
There's also the flexibility of working most anywhere near the water. Florida has 15 stores and there are stores as far afield as Puerto Rico and Hawaii. Perhaps down the line I can go to Puerto Rico to work there for awhile.
Hmm. Puerto Rico.

My 2000 Watt Insurance Policy

In my quest to have more options on the boat, I added a generator. My concern was that I would be "out there" and run out of power and be unable to start the diesel or recharge batteries or not be able to recharge battery powered tools and the like.
I am no fan of gasoline on a boat but I took the leap and got a 2000 watt generator that is gas powered. At the moment I keep a one gallon gas can on the rail next to the diesel jugs. In the event there is a spill, the fumes and gasoline (or diesel) will go over the side harmlessly.
I use the same plan for the propane canisters on board. They are stored in a 4" PVC tube strapped to one of the stanchions and hanging over the side. Since propane fumes are heavier than air, they will drop over the side and not settle in the cabin or the bilge.
Back to the generator.

My 2000 Watt Insurance Policy

2000 watts is enough to recharge the batteries and power the boat lighting, radios and bilge pump. I put together a cord that plugs into the generator and the shore power input on the boat. Once the generator is running, the boat operates as if on shore power. The power goes through the battery charger and the interior 120V plugs.
So I have three options for recharging batteries: the diesel engine's 35 amp generator, the 2000 watt gas generator and the 100 watts of solar on the top of the bimini.
One thing I would still like to add to the mix is the ability to pull start the diesel like a lawnmower. It would require an additional pulley on the main crank shaft and a few feet of rope. By opening the compression levers and giving the cord a yank, I could start the diesel if all else fails.
Having options while "out there" is a good thing and to me, the more the merrier!

Louisiana and Its Charms

The trip from Kemah, Texas was an advanced course in boating. Thankfully I had the help of Scott, a former US Coast Guardsman and well versed in the waters around New Orleans.
The trip took a week or so longer than planned because of weather stops and taking a week off in New Orleans for me to visit my brother and he his daughter.
All in all, it was a good experience. I will tell the tale in pieces instead of trying to spit it out in order with a lot of detail. Parts of the trip were crushingly boring, like driving through the salt grass of Louisiana, and others were heart-stopping moments.
There is a beauty to all of the areas we passed through. Well, maybe not the Harvey Canal. That is as industrial as it gets. Driving a little plastic sailboat past all of those hulking, steel barges, ships and structures just waiting to crush you to bits is humbling.
The anchorages, like the Mermentau river or Shell Island for example, were beautiful. I'd stay there again if given the chance.

Anchored in the Mermentau River

Since there were no cities around, the night sky was on full display. I hadn't seen that many stars since back in the 90's when camping in the Chisos Basin in Big Bend National Park in Texas.
In March the temperatures were comfortable and the nights cool. The one word of warning though, and you'll see this coming - is put the screens up before sunset because the mosquitoes arrive in clouds! The buzzing might just keep you awake.
Watching birds is something I really enjoy and along the Intra Coastal Water Way (ICW) there are plenty of opportunities. We identified Bald Eagles, Osprey, Ibis, plenty of sea gulls. There were several other varieties I don't know.

There were trees full of these guys for maybe a mile or so

If you have the opportunity, take a trip on the ICW. The scenery and people along the way make the trip worthwhile.

Rain, Lighting, Work and Long Hauls

It rains a lot here. A LOT!
It's not so much the rain as there is also a regular light show, seemingly every night. I'm told that Florida is the lighting capitol of the world. I thought it was local boasting: you know, like the biggest mosquitoes or highest winds. Nope. It's not boasting if it's true.
This time of year you can count on a bit of rain most every afternoon. You can't set your watch by it but it is regular. When the forecast says "isolated" showers take them at their word. Walk a few feet and you're out of the rain.
Big deal. I live on a boat.
I'm now working at a West Marine store near the boat. It's a two-mile commute so there's no crying about that. They're a nice bunch of people and of course, they all have boating in common. It beats the office.
Retail is new to me. I've always been on the other side of the counter. It's a new perspective. I don't have any horror stories yet but give me time. I'm sure there'll be some.
Getting settled in takes time but I'm managing. It's not a sprint. I'm in for the long haul.

At the tiller on the trip from Kemah, Texas

Change is good. Right?

After several years of planning and many, many stops and starts, I have moved the whole shebang to Florida.
Originally, I was to take a year off and go sailing and then return to Texas and reinsert myself into the office work life.
So much for that!
Three years later, having made the promise to move to Florida if my parents did the same, I have finally cut the lines and now find myself in the Tampa area.
It's an open-ended plan and going about as well as can be expected. Leaving behind all of the music contacts, boating contacts and office contacts has me a bit out of sorts. When I think about it, dragging me up out of my rut will be a good thing.
Mind you, I liked my rut. It was comfortable. I had squelched myself down in the mud and knew where everything was. All of my favorite restaurants and guitar stores and hideouts were right where I knew and all was good.
Now I'm trying to work my way into a new music scene, learn where all of the shoals are in the waterways and find some work that will keep food in the fridge.
There is much to be gained. I am closer to some really good cruising grounds and the water here is amazing! The trip over was an advanced boating course in itself and I had many firsts - often several in a day.
So. A new chapter opens and as intimidating as it is, here I go.
Jeff

A New Year and a New Commitment to Keeping Up With this Thing

So, okay.  I've been derelict in my blogging duties.  Oops!
Frankly, I've become lax in realizing just how many people enjoy reading about the foibles of living on and working on boats.  I've been at it long enough that it's old hat to me.
I'll do better.

“The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” Robert Burns from his poem, “To a Mouse” and the source to John Steinbeck’s title, “Of Mice and Men.”

Or

“All dressed up and nowhere to go.”

Insert your favorite platitude here.

I’m still at the dock after all these months. The plan was to leave in January after quitting the day job in December. Lucky thing I didn’t leave. The transmission conked out and required several boat bucks (a measurement of money in thousand-dollar increments) to repair. It’s just as well. I would have ended up in a foreign boat yard trying to negotiate a deal.  As it is I worked with the local guys that I already have a working relationship with. While a good thing, I’m still out many boat bucks and the cruising kitty is reduced.

Next on the horizon is hurricane season. It’s a little lottery we on the gulf coast look forward to every year hoping we don’t win. Maybe ‘looking forward to’ isn’t exactly accurate and in my particular case I’m enduring it. It will set my evil scheme back another six months.

So here I sit at the dock working on various boat projects and trying not to fry in the Texas gulf coast sun (106°F heat index today).  Fortunately I’ve picked up with the band again and found work on a work boat during the week. “What about the office?” you say. Not a chance. While my wallet would thank me my nerves just wouldn’t. I’ve become accustomed to not commuting and the negative atmosphere would do me in.

Why would I want to do that? I’m driving a paid-off pickup truck that suits my needs and living on a boat that I’ve rebuilt, made more close friends than I’ve ever had and hanging out with a bunch of quirky retirees that entertain me daily. I’ve seen my first alligator in the wild and more fish than I can count.

We all cuss the ducks and their duck byproducts they leave on the docks and argue when the next high tide will be. My favorite is the “who’s laundry day is it?” conversation. You’d never guess the level of interest in laundry machine availability. Go to the office and miss this?

I wake up with the sun and often go to bed by it too. I’m more relaxed and my blood pressure has dropped. I’m eating a little better and the neighbor that drives the big rig occasionally brings fruits and veggies from his trips to the valley. We share here and look out for each other.

So I don't grouse about not getting away just yet. I already have. 

There's Right and Wrong and This Ain't Right

Usually the lessons learned under stress are the lessons that stay with you for a lifetime.

During my expedition into the mud while trying to enter the channel I tried to use the jib to heel the boat over enough to get the keel out of the muck. What I wound up with was the jib falling all around me on the foredeck.

Here is the reason for that.

Wire Tie Used to Seize the Shackle

The shackles were seized using plastic wire ties. The plastic breaks down in the sunlight and they let go at the first chance to endanger or, at least, embarrass the owner of the boat.

Once I had the furler and the top of the jib reunited on the deck (thank you Kelly Waterhouse!) I found the offending wire ties. Actually, wire tie. The other had disappeared like a teenager after dinner when the dishes need washing.

Shackle Pin and Wire Tie Consigned to the Depths

The proper way to ensure this doesn't happen again is to seize the shackle pin using stainless steel wire wrapped through the pin hole and shackle. I'm certain there is a more appealing way to do this but this bad boy ain't a'goin' nowhere!

Seized Shackels

Yeppers. I won't soon forget that lesson. I've gone over the rest of the boat for more of these little surprises. I can only hope I've got them all.

Okay Now. Enough is Enough!

We get a peek at warmer weather and then it gets cold and wet again. Sheesh!

Many things have happened and much money has been spent in the last couple is weeks.

I called the Yanmar rep here in town because when I revved the engine up to full power in gear I got this nasty black goo out of the tailpipe. In addition, the tachometer wasn’t giving me the honest truth when it came to RPM readings. To top it off, it still shuddered a lot and gave the impression that the engine wasn’t happy in its space and wanted to leave…NOW!

Hence, the call to the factory guys. Well Eric, (that’s the local mechanic and a really good one at that) showed up and started troubleshooting and asking a lot of questions. The engine is sound but needs a bit of TLC. TLC is a technical term that translates to Truck Loads of Cash. Those truck loads are measured in Boat Bucks. Now boat bucks are spoken of in increments of $1,000 and are tossed around like napkins in a pizza restaurant.

The possibility of the engine needing aligning was discussed and that the mixing elbow may have had a clog in it. The tachometer was condemned and a new one was ordered. And the propeller being over pitched came up for consideration. There’s also a propeller shaft and cutlass bearing to look over.

And that was only the first hour!

The decision was made to pull the boat out of the water. That’s yard time plus the price of actually lifting the boat out of the water and placing it on stands. Start your calculators!

I explained to the yard manager that I live on the boat and could he give me a place in the yard with a nice view? He said he’d expedite the work if he could. As busy as this yard is I was lucky to get a place in the parking lot.

Remember now, it’s January and we’ve had a long cold one so far. Here I am at the top of a ten foot ladder, the boat on stands with winds gusting to 20 or so miles an hour in 30° F weather. Add to that that there is no power to the light sockets in the yard so there’s no heat on the boat. I get points added for dedication to the live aboard lifestyle but many deducted for not being too bright.

The three days in the yard were a bit like being tossed out of your house for the carpet guys to come in and work. I had to find myself someplace to be during the day. I hung out at my marina office, wandered around town and sat in the truck perusing the web in the parking lot.

I checked in regularly at the yard to assess the progress on the boat. There was much inactivity. And some activity that turned out to be nothing to see and then some actual work being performed.

On Wednesday I got the phone call to come get the boat. They’d already put it in the water so I wasn’t able to see for myself the finished work below the waterline. But being the trusting soul that I am, I paid the bill, cast off and headed for home port.

Mistake #1: Getthereitis.

Hindsight being 20/20 I should have stayed in the shipyard marina for the remainder of the day and overnight. But, no. I headed back home at low tide. On top of that I had to work with the band that night.

Four PM. I got firmly stuck in the muck at the channel entrance of my marina. After an hour of pushing and pulling trying to get out of the mud, I called the marina office to see if there was anyone willing to pull me free. I figured I needed to be pulled 100 feet to the main channel. This, of course, comes on the heels of not renewing my towing membership for the first time in many years. That was Mistake #2. In this area always have towing insurance.

I would have just tossed out the anchor and waited till midnight for the tide to rise if not for the whole needing to get to work thing. Mistake #3: trying to keep a schedule.

A friend on his way to an appointment at the bar across the lake stopped and offered a hand. He suggested raising the jib to heel the boat over a bit. A reasonable suggestion. Unfortunately, unknown to me the shackle that holds the jib had parted and was only waiting until I needed it to fall around me on the foredeck. Yep. Now I had a pile of sail trying to fall into the water. I wrestled it to the deck and tied it off to keep it on board.

A neighbor that had just finished washing his boat, now came to my rescue. After much conversation and planning (and pulling) we had my boat out of the muck and I was on my way back to the shipyard marina.

After all of the pushing and pulling and being stuck the engine again sounded as if it wasn’t at all happy and that it was going to leave me in the middle of the lake. One of those, “Stop the car right here, I’m getting out you bastard!” kind of moments. I cooed, I nursed, I implored it not to be hasty and that we could work it all out.

At about six PM I pulled into an empty slip and tied off the boat. I had to be at the club at seven or so to start playing at eight. I called the fellow that had volunteered to come get me and got no reply. I was concerned since he had taken a swim a few days prior and now had a new phone. I tried another friend that is always at the marina and he was in Houston at a friend’s place. Another call to a friend down my dock that never goes out was at a get together for a coworker that had just crossed the Atlantic. I started walking. I figured that if I hustled, I could get back to my marina where my truck was and make it to work in plenty of time.

I almost made it. My first volunteer pulled up behind me a mile from my destination and picked me up. He had left his phone in the marina office and wasn’t able to get it after closing time at 5 PM while he was still helping me out of the mud.

He was waiting for me at the yard parking lot but got impatient and went looking for me. We figure I passed him by but because of buildings, he didn’t see me. He finally decided to come looking for me and that’s when he found me just up the street from home.

Next day, I return to pick the boat up at high tide and put it in my slip. Later in the day I get a call from Eric, the mechanic. He asks me when I’ll be ready for him to align the engine! I told him the boat was back in the slip and I thought he had already done the work. Here I thought I screwed his work up digging in the mud and it turns out the boat should not have been released to me because the work was not complete!

Eric worked the rest of that day and most of the next finishing the project up.

A very expensive week, it was. While I know I have added many years to the life of the boat I have shortened the life of my checking account by about four months of cruising money!

And so it goes.

How Cold Was It?

It has been a ridiculously cold winter here in Houston. Unnecessarily cold. “Dammit!” quality cold. Today was the first day in weeks that didn’t require a jacket of some kind.

When it’s this cold I lose the will to work on the boat. Most boat tasks require taking large quantities of stuff out of the boat and placing them on the dock or in the cockpit. The hatches are open and the companionway is open and it’s just too cold for that. So I sit inside and eat. And nap. It’s rough. Don’t try this at home kids. Leave it to the professionals.

Right now the air temperature is in the 60s and I have the boat opened up to air it out. What a relief. Even the cat is acting a little less crazy.

Now that I have quit the day job I have the time for the next part of my nefarious scheme. I’ll begin anchoring out for a night or two at a time to make sure I have things sorted out. I need more time sailing and getting offshore is a requirement. I have got to get my sea legs under me. I can’t just “read” that part away. Getting used to the motion of the boat is something that can’t be done at the dock.

So it’s off to various anchorages around the area. I’ll mix in forays off into the Gulf and back to get more comfortable with being in bigger water. Nothing serious – I’ll leave the anchorage in the morning, sail out a few miles and come back in for the night. After a few trips, I’ll return to the home port and think about what happened. Easy. Right?

Easy or not, it's got to be done. Until I have the sea legs under me, there's really no trip. And no trip is not an option.

The Deed is Done

I’ve given notice at work. At first my boss was tentative. His concern was that I was going to a competitor. There’s all that do-I-try-to-outbid-the-other-place-to-keep-him talk. I cut that conversation short by telling him my plan of sailing for a year. He visibly relaxed and expressed his envy. With a child in college and all of the expenses he couldn’t even think about a long vacation much less taking off for a year.

 

He’s a gracious loser. No way can he compete with floating about in a sailboat in the Florida Keys or the Bahamas. 

 

I mean, it’s a nice company but be real.

 

So now the next phase of the plan begins. I’ll be spending time doing final checks on the boat and then taking off for points unknown.

I've had so many people support me on this project. I can't thank them enough. It is truly a new beginning for me. 

The Clock is Ticking

I’m still counting the days.

The wind vane installation is going slowly. The fabricator has delivered the mounting parts but the fellow I have preparing the transom is taking his time. Well, that, and the weather isn’t cooperating. The boarding ladder had to be removed in order to fit the mounting bracket. I called on the fiberglass guy to come fill the holes and clean up the paint and now I have one coat of gelcoat in place and am hoping for a clear weather window for him to finish the job.

Once done, it’s off to the races to get the steering gear set up and dialed in.

I am getting so much support from neighbors. Three have loaned me books and travel guides to help with the trip planning. One has given me a copy of his trip log to Florida to use as a guide. Everyone is really enthusiastic and cheering me on.

I, on the other hand, am feeling a bit unsure about this whole thing. I’m not sure why but I’m becoming apprehensive. I suppose it’s the whole “journey into the unknown” thing but it has me bugged. I’m putting it down to “normal jitters about big changes” and moving forward.

This is what I’m going with: Here I’m living in the known world and no longer happy with it. Out there I’ll be experiencing new things and seeing new stuff and people. I really do believe it will be for the best. And hey; If I don’t like it I can reinsert myself into this place and try something else.

But I’m really rooting for liking it and continuing the project. I don’t know how long I’ve got. Do you? 

The Boat is Ready. Me, Not Just Yet

The boat is ready. I am not. For once she’s ahead of me and I’ve got to play catch up.

The only big thing lacking right now is the wind vane mount and that’s in progress at the fabricator’s shop. The other project I want completed is the leak in the lens of the forward hatch over the V berth. I have the materials at hand and some time to pull the old cracked and crazed plastic lens out and trim up a new one to install.

The inaugural trip offshore into the Gulf of Mexico was a roaring success. The boat performed perfectly and all of that money spent wasn’t wasted. My mentor and captain friend, Eudell Jiles, went along for the ride and coached me on the correct way to manage traffic in the ship channel, talk to the ships’ pilots and in general how not to be a pain in the ass to the professionals that work the Houston Ship Channel (HSC) for a living.  

The weather was picture perfect for a newbie. The HSC was flat, the wind and the tide was in our favor. Traffic was light. The Gulf was reasonably calm with winds about 12kts and seas 2-3 feet. Nothing broke, the engine purred contentedly down below and kept her temperature steady. We turned south out of the jetties about eight miles offshore and set sail for Freeport, TX 40 miles south down the coast.

While the motion of the boat was extreme for me, he was in his element. I could tell this was his payment for all of the times he helped me on this project. This guy lives for this stuff; tiller in hand, wind in his face shouting encouragement as I hung over the back rail and fed the fish.

Yep. That sucked. Of all the details to leave unattended, I forgot to get the motion sickness pills. In my defense, I didn’t know if I’d be affected by it. Oh, well. Now I know.

After a brief discussion about this going on another nine hours, we turned around and headed to the Galveston Yacht Basin for the night. We dropped anchor just after sunset and discussed the events of the day and what I had learned.

Now my appetite is whetted. I'm looking at the calendar trying to figure out when I'll be able to get out there for more practice. I've got only 20 weeks or so before the planned departure so I need to make the time to get offshore again.  

Not Everyone Was Working That Day

Biding My Time

Two milestones are rapidly approaching; my 55^th birthday and the final task on the boat. The last big project is installing the Cape Horn steering system.  Once that’s in place it is the jog to the finish line.

That will be the fun part. I’ll have to spend time sailing and making minor adjustments to the boat.  I know, I know. Tis a tough job but you know, someone has to do it. I plan a couple trips to Freeport and maybe the Flower Gardens 100 miles off the coast. Those trips will give me the offshore experience I need to begin making open-water passages by myself. Now that the wind and water are becoming more favorable for my part of the coast, I can make plans more reliably.

I’m toying with the idea of moving the departure date up by four weeks or so. Still chewing on that idea. While I don’t want to cut my training period short I’m getting the itch to get gone.

This trip is gonna be soooo cool! The plan is one year off to shake off old memories and hurt feelings and gain a new perspective for the next 30 or 40 years. At the end of 12 months I’ll reconsider; should I keep going or come back and reinsert myself into the matrix. 

Sitting here I don’t know what person I’ll be when that decision time comes. It will be fun to see.

Rounding Third and Heading for Home!

As the to-do list grows shorter and the months zoom by I am both eager and nervous about leaving. Focusing on the many details of getting the boat ready leaves me little time to just daydream about what it will be like when I arrive.

White sand, salt air, clear water and the cry of seagulls overhead are what I have to keep in mind. Venturing ashore to visit the village taco cart and chit chat with the locals is what I’m looking forward to. That and mixing with other cruisers that are happy to be where they are.

For now I’ll have to satisfy myself with reading the blogs and looking at the pictures of those already there.

Sitting here doing the math I find I’ll have enough to complete the boat projects and if I play my cards right I’ll have a dollar or two extra to put into the cruising kitty. Postponing departure to make extra money is not an option. I’ll go with what I have and work it out later.

Inching Closer to the Finish Line

Well a lot has happened in the last few months.
Bonnie Lou is just about finished. The most recent project was to install the new propeller, inspect and repack the stuffing box, inspect the rudder for water and other damage and get the bottom painted. I contacted Captain Randy Pruitt to do the work. He had done the initial work on the boat when I bought her in 2010.

With the installation of the new motor last February the propeller was now in need of replacement. The old Volvo MD7A rotated counter clockwise and at a much lower speed than the new Yanmar 2GM20 that rotates clockwise at almost twice the RPMs.
I contacted Bauman Propellers here in Houston and answered their questions and had a new propeller a couple of days later. The engine installer had (unbeknownst to me) reversed the transmission link so when the shift handle was in the forward position, the boat moved forward while actually operating in reverse. A tip of the hat to the installer for a quick remedy but not a situation I want to live with.

This Will Do Nicely

So, all is well on the mechanical propulsion front. Everything, from the deck fill to the cotter pin on the propeller has either been replaced with new or refurbished professionally.
Now when I put the boat in gear she really moves.
The rudder checked out fine except for some minor fiberglass repair at the top near the post. A bit of glass, resin and some paint and back on the boat it went. The play in the tiller was gone and my fear of the whole thing dropping to the bottom of the bay has gone away.
The stuffing box was a non-event too (am I living right, or what?). Just an inspection and repack. The shaft and bearings looked good.
There were a few blisters to attend to and then two coats of bottom paint.
Earlier in her life, little Bonnie Lou got up against the piling and scuffed the hull up a bit. I’d guess it was during hurricane Ike. I had the rough spot repaired by a friend in the marina. The Randy agreed to compound and buff the hull and paint the repair. That bit of work took an extra day in the yard but I’m certainly not complaining. The boat looks great!


Before



After

Now I’m in the envious position of living on a refurbished 35-year-old boat that’s paid for.

Apologies for the Delay

Sorry for the delay. I've been busy saling and working out issues with the boat. I'll have a post here soon. Here's something I found while poking around that I keep on my desk to keep me focused. Perhaps it will do the same for you:
Where a brooding Buddha blinks,
Deeply graven is the message,
It’s later than you think.
The clock of time is wound but once,
And no man has the power,
To tell just where the hands will stop,
At late or early hour.
Now is all the time you own,
The past a golden link.
Live now my brothers,
It’s later than you think.
~On the ancient wall of China

Like I Need a Reason?

The reasons I’m doing this are:

To finally live my life on my terms. I’ve worked for others doing what they want me to do to produce things that benefit them in some way and reward me with money. What I want is to spend my time as I chose and be rewarded with life experiences that have meaning for me. Experiences like; seeing other places and cultures in their habitat and not the ‘Americanized’ version; live on my wits without comparison to others and the judgment that I’ve experience in those comparisons; I want to be in the company of others of a like mind that possessions are not the end goal; I want to do work that has meaning for me and gives me satisfaction;

I want to leave the routine of seeing the same people every day saying the same pre-programmed things. I’ve learned that we all have about five stories that we love to tell and to go beyond that requires thought, action and some risk. Thought and action require self-study and that can be unpleasant and require more than most are interested in actually doing. It’s far easier to wave our hands dismissively and say something like, “whatever. You know what I mean” instead of taking the time to think the topic through and explain the beliefs held. That short circuit of the thought process is, I believe, a result of our present ‘sound bite’, condensed-media-story life style. As a group we have convinced ourselves that differing opinions and discussion are passé and show some kind of weakness. We have become so concerned about offending someone or some group that we can’t say anything. On top of that there are the constant jokes about political correctness (PC). PC used to be just being polite. What’s wrong with being polite?

The risk comes from not wanting to take the chance that what you say may be unpopular. The presumed price would be the loss of friendship or maybe ridicule. None of us, regardless of how thick our skin is, want that.

And after some inward reflection we may find out that we don’t like what we see and that would take a decision to change and that would require some work on our part and that’s just not acceptable. It’s easier to wave our hands dismissively and turn back to listening to the talking head on the TV or radio.

So you see, I’ve done the 9-5 thing in the office and the field work in the heat; I’ve done the self-employment thing and the corporate drone act; I’ve done the single and married things. I’ve been so immersed in the American way and lifestyle that I really would like to try something else.

Having been showered every day of my life with the deluge of images, sounds and information messages that each of us is subjected to I am looking forward to the almost depravation-chamber quiet I expect on a days-long passage. I really wonder how I will respond. Will it take me a week to acclimate? A month? Will it be an easy transition? Will I grab the first person I see upon landfall and start talking nonstop just to hear another voice?

I hope to re-learn the trick of creating a complete thought in my head. I’m sure there was a time in my life when I could do that. It’s just been so long ago. I’ve always had a touch of ADD and the fast-forward society I live in doesn’t help at all.

The thought of slowing down to the pace of the boat and the waves is a bit daunting. I admit at times crossing the lake at 4 knots is a bit dull. But then I’m still living the 70+mph world of commuting to work every day. Once I make the change to a life at a walking pace I’ll know better how to deal with it.

I hope for a great cleansing; a new start. A reset, if you will. After the year is up I’ll make up my mind to continue or head back to civilization to pick up where I left off. I know I’ll never be the same.