The List

Owning a boat means that there is always a list of things that need to be done. Some are things that really need to be done, like fix the head, or stop a leak someplace. The rest of the list is a mix of things that need to be repaired, or added, or improved. This list is so much a part of boat ownership, that any boat owner knows exactly what you are talking about if you say something like "I am spending a few hours today on the list". A cruising couple like Joyce and I, have different lists completely, which is an interesting contrast in how we both view this whole sailboat thing. My list includes very important items like pump replacing and various mechanical improvements. Joyce's list includes very important items like provisioning items and organizing and removing excess accumulation from the boat. Both lists are equally important, and as such, we help each other get this stuff done. In other words, we work together, it's actually kinda fun! Now, at this point, I am sure that you are wanting to help tackle some of this list stuff too, and if you stop by, we can probably let you help. After all, this is Fun! No? OK, it just means more for us. On the list of important items was the leak around the front window. When we sailed from Key West to Miami, we had to bash into a pretty steep head sea, and we found a leak around our port side front window. The best way to fix this problem is to pop it out, and re-bed the window in new sealant. The problem was, these windows are made of acrylic, and they were getting pretty old. Maybe too old, as in time to go old. As these windows age they seem to do two things. They craze. Not like your looney uncle. This means they get hairline cracks in the acrylic. They are most noticeable when the sun shines from the side, and I don't know if the strength of the acrylic is affected by the crazing. Ask your uncle, maybe he knows. The other thing they do is get dull looking, like your Aunt. Just kidding. They just are not as easy to see through, and start to look a bit milky. We wanted to get the leak under control, and decided to just replace these old windows in the process. Simple enough, right? That's better, no more leaks, (my list), and we got rid of the pesky aunt and uncle (excess accumulation, Joyce's list). Slam dunk on this project. I am also proud to finally announce that we once again own a working wind instrument! It has taken an unbelievably long time to get this off my list, just so you know and understand my elation. All it took was to find a fool, I mean, a rigger, to go all the way up there and screw on the spinny part we got a while ago. It turns out , the only guy we could find to go up, was an old guy with a bottle of nitroglycerine pills in his toolbag. Ok then, go on up I say, better him than me. Does this make me a pussy because I won't climb the mast? I say no, it's more of a fear of heights thing. I overcame my fear of splicing (see previous post titled 'Fear of Splicing'), but Acrophobia, or the fear of heights is totally different. I'm not a pussy. No I'm not. Look how he is clinging to that mast, scared shitless no doubt. Another important thing on the list was to visit the Customs and Border Patrol office to apply for the SVRS. The SVRS stands for Small Vessel Reporting System, not Sailboat Velocity Really Slow. The SVRS is a process where you go to the Customs and Border Patrol office with your passports and boat documents, and after they give you the ten second stare (you have seen this stare at the airport), they give you your paperwork back and you are done. This means that when you return to the US, you can call the Border Patrol and Customs office on the phone, and clear in to the US without having to sail the boat to a Port of Entry and appear in person. Cool. In the ultimate irony of injustice, we spent two hours getting permission to come back to the US, while here in Miami, half the people here are undocumented illegal aliens!

All this work is tiring though, and we all sometimes just need a little rest, right Guincha? Oh yeah, the disco ball is here. What's a boat without a disco ball? Dull.

We Are Getting Close

It's true, we are getting very close to done around here in Miami. Things are getting wrapped up on the boat projects list, and the end is near for work here too. The windlass came back from California, and looks great. It all shiny and rebuilt, and looks great out front. I put a reversing solenoid and hand switch in this time, the way it was wired before was only for retrieve. In other words, there is a button that you step on that raises the anchor, but to let the anchor out, you had to loosen the gypsy that holds the chain just enough so that the clutches would let the chain slowly go out. It worked fine, but the new wiring allows you to actually stand at the front of the boat, and reverse the motor, letting the anchor fall slowly and gently to the sea floor. Much more civilized sounding isn't it? I thought so too. After all, Gypsies are notorious for trouble making. Everyone knows that. The windlass came back from Lighthouse Windlass Company in a wooden crate, not the totally awesome wooden crate that I sent the old windlass to them in, but a chip board version that is clearly inferior to the one I made. It seemed to work fine, but hey, where is my awesome crate? Probably on their showroom floor now I am guessing. Opening the crate, I saw the windlass, and two boxes. I opened the box on the left, and all the bits and pieces were in there. I couldn't figure out what could be in the box on the right. So I pulled it out. It was sealed up tight, and even labeled on the bottom. This box was just a plain empty box, from California. My crate didn't have any empty boxes, didn't need any. And it was real plywood too. It's in the showroom for sure.

Cold Getting Colder, and the Boat Show

Our boat has a great refrigerator and freezer area, as the Manta's were designed with a cruising couple in mind. Ours has been a bit too warm lately, and we decided to have a tech come check out our system and look at the two AC units while he was here. There is nothing I hate worse than to call in a specialist, I have to believe everything they say, and that has, for me anyway, proven itself in the past to be a problem. I have been told so many times, such unbelievable bullshit, that I am now skeptical, scarred and jaded. OK, I have some trust issues. But for sure, if someone you might give money to for a job, says 'Trust me, you need to ...' that means that you can't. Trust them that is. Anyway, the cold wasn't colder, and the AC systems keep turning off when they are on the heat setting (it gets cold here in Miami!), so we called in a refrigeration tech. Man was he in a hurry, he was here for all of about 10 minutes. He put a TINY bit of freon in the refrigerator, and looked at the AC. The AC systems are dirty he said, the coils are covered with lint and need to be cleaned. He said "I'll be Back", like a plump Arnold in The Terminator and took off to fix something on a boat displayed at the Miami Boatshow. The fridge is colder, but in fairness, I moved the sensor lower in the compartment to see what the temp is near the bottom. We will see if Arnold ever comes back, he probably will once he realizes I never paid him! If not, I will consider him Terminated. This time of year, the Miami Boat Show is the thing to do here in Miami, if you like boats. If not, well, you are weird. This show has gotten so big, it is now scattered all over Miami and Miami Beach at four or five different locations that are nowhere near each other. Try and find them all, I dare you. And to make matters worse, the boatshow website, that you would think would be a reference source for all things boatshow related, is worthless. Really a bunch of crap. This is the reason we missed the cruisers party that the old Lats and Atts magazine had on Saturday night. The boatshow workers at the gate to the docks didn't know where the venders were either, they said that there weren't any this year. "Nope, this is it, just these boats here in the water". Well, we missed it, and we were a bit miffed, but hey, what can you do. Get wings at Hooters and move on, I say. Joyce handled the temporary setback better than I did. We were back to see the boats the next day, and were drooling a lot. In the end, we decided that our boat is pretty good for us, and besides, we don't have a half a mill sitting around. So we saw plenty of cats that were way too big, way too expensive and way too cheap looking. What happened to wood? There wasn't much around, lots of very cheap travel trailerish paneling seems to have taken its place. The Lagoons were nice designs, but done with such cheap materials, they came of looking too fake inside. The panels were even chipping, exposing the pressboard under the paper coverings. Yuck. The Pajot's were OK, but the fiberglass work was horrible. There was fiberglass mat print-through the gelcoat on every panel on the boats. And 700 grand for 44 feet of print-through fiberglass. Seems a bit too much for us. We really liked the Robertson-Caine Leopard catamarans though. This was a surprise, but the new 40 footer was really nice. It's a big boat for 40 feet, nice gelcoat and glass work, and the interior was a step above the other two. Price? 350 to 450 depending on how much stuff you want. Arghh. Still too much. We found the vendors at the Sailboat part of the show, and it was OK. We also saw Bob Bitchin, we last saw him on a charter in the Grenadines that we all shared. His old magazine Lat's and Att's, is now Cruising Outpost, and he was in their booth. See you out there Bob. Great name for a boat lover, ... Bob.

Flannigan's Birthday

Yesterday, February nine, was the cause for some celebration here on Saltrun. It was my birthday, and as such, I decided that we would check out a place called Flannigan's, that is just up the street from the marina. It turns out that, although it sounds like an Irish Pub, it is actually something quite different. We have been to Ireland, and recommend it highly, a wonderful place and very nice people everywhere we went. But, we don't remember the pubs playing Katie Perry. Someone should tell Flannigans that they have... drifted a bit from the Irish theme. Oh well, what they did have was a great happy hour, complete with Guinness on tap. And the happy hour from 4-7PM features half off of just about all drinks, including Guinness! So, a couple pints of creamy Guinness set us back a whopping 6 bucks! After a second round, we almost forgot about Katy Perry! Almost, but not really. The food smelled pretty good, they have a decent menu. But we decided to get back to the boat, and chow on some homemade ( Thanks Joyce!) mac and cheese! It was awesome! Then, a mini cheesecake birthday cake complete with candles and another great birthday is in the books. Thanks for making it special Joyce, you are the best! And just so you know, I am not divulging my age. The boat projects are moving along. The wind instrument spinny thing ( Sorry for that description ) that goes up the mast is here and should fix that problem at last. While we are at it, we are replacing the steaming light and foredeck light with a larger LED version. And the latest super killer improvement to Saltrun is the totally awesome double helm seat! Now, we can both sit at the wheel and see where we are going! Before, it was a single seat, the other seats in the cockpit are too low to see forward. Problem solved. Besides, that old seat was pretty mancky, needed to be tossed out. I put it by the trash can outside the boat. It was gone in 5 minutes. Unbelievable. Probably a Katy Perry fan took it. The windlass is still gone. Maybe next week I was told.

More Boat Work

As our launch date to the Bahamas rapidly approaches, we find ourselves in the midst of some much needed boat projects. These are a few things that really need doing, because they are just a mere pain in the butt to do here, but they would be a royal pain the the butt to do later in the remote Bahamas. So we are, of course, doing everything at once. The place is a bit of a mess, but not too bad. The first project involves both engine alternators. It seems that a former owner of this boat allowed a dripping seawater pump to fling corrosive saltwater onto the alternator brackets. This saltwater is very corrosive, and caused the mounting bolts for both alternators to rust and make it IMPOSSIBLE to move the alternator to tighten the belts up. I am near certain that saltwater is a key ingredient in Lock-Tight. Luckily, they both sorta worked OK, but the belts were too loose, and eventually they would need replacing. One of the bolts in question happily donated its head when I attacked it with my impact wrench, displaying it's desire to remain tucked into its hole like a scared decapitated rabbit. The only course of action was to remove the part of the motor mount the damn thing was broken off into, and then have the bolt removed at a shop. Once this was done, the parts were cleaned and repainted like new, and will soon be back on the engines, haven't got that done yet.

Next on the list, the pesky wind instrument. This thing crapped out after a very close call with a trillion volts of lightning that JUST missed our mast on the move from Jax to Key West some months ago. So, it was no real surprise that it turns out that the spinny thing atop the mast is cooked like a fried egg. It LOOKS OK, but doesn't work. Much like all the people begging for money at traffic lights here in Miami. Seriously, they wait for the cars to stop, and then they pop out, limping and hunched over, going from car to car, peering at you with hopeful sorrow in their eyes. I reached for some money one day, and the light suddenly changes to green! The guy quickly straightens up, and sprints back toward the intersection, to be ready for the next performance. Unbelievable. Get a job, come on. Anyway, a new spinny thing for the mast is now here, sitting patiently in it's box, completely unaware of it's soon to be precarious position that is directly in the path of the next electrical storm. Don't tell it, it doesn't need to know yet. Also, there is something on the boat that works just fine, but just looks like hell. No, not me. I am talking about the windlass, the thing that dutifully pulls that heavy anchor and chain up off the bottom for us. Ours is made by a company called Lighthouse Windlass, and they now have the beast. It was shipped out this week, all 105 pounds of windlass and crate, so that they can turn this ugly duckling into a swan. The windlass was still working, but the poor thing was on it's last leg. The motor housing was rusted and cracking. Any day now it was going to stop completely, and then, there we would be. Stuck to the bottom. Have to get a broker to list her where she sits I suppose. Well, we were not going to let that happen, so out the thing came, and one hernia later, it is in California. They are going to fix it up good as new, and send it back. Awesome.

Also on the list for the next month... Finish the watermaker install, fix some wiring here and there, and grease my winch. Not wench, winch.

WHAT THE ... WHO IN THE...

Ah yes, the sounds of a windy evening on the boat. Wind whistling in the rigging, an occasional pop as the cockpit enclosure flaps in the wind. An occasional clang or click as something is moved by the wind. The chop and wind is usually relaxing on the boat, especially since we are tied securely to a seawall here at Dinner Key Marina in Miami. No chance of dragging anchor, or coming loose from a mooring, so a good nights sleep was in order. But it wasn't to be. I was suddenly awakened in the middle of the night, around 02:30, by a strange noise. I had heard that a strange noise would wake you from a deep sleep, but it has never happened to me before. One thing I am good at is sleep. As I am in that half-awake state, wondering why I am awake, I try to convince myself to go back to sleep. Then, I hear it again. Click, click, click, click. Above my head, outside in the cockpit. Weird, I thought, what could that be? It couldn't be Santa, he came and went already. Maybe there is something loose in the cockpit, the wind must be playing tricks on me. Click, click, click, clunk. OK, I gotta go see what is going on up there. I hop out of the rack, and make my way to the door. When I look outside, what do you think I see in the Cockpit? Well, it wasn't Jolly Ol' Saint Nick. It seems that a couple of what looked like 20 year old's were getting busy with it right on my boat! They just climbed right on and then climbed right on! Hey wait a minute, nobody asked me! I then realized what that clicking sounds was. It was high heels, black ones from the look of them, pointing toward the sky. Well, that did it, I am losing sleep over these amorous trespassers after all. I burst open the door, and said something totally stupid like "What's going on here?" The couple just about lost it, they were dumbfounded when out of nowhere appears this old guy, yelling and messing up their plans. "You better get your asses off this boat". I meant it too, I could see their asses and I wanted them gone. There was a scramble, some more clicking as the heels hit the deck, some lame ass "Oh, We must have the wrong boat" bullshit as pants were being rapidly donned, and quick as a flash they were gone. I wish the Army could deploy that fast, it was a model of efficiency. The last thing I heard was more clicking, as those heels were running off into the darkness. One single bark. That is the un-shakable devotion my dog Guincha provided in the 'I am a dog, so intruders beware' department. Oh well, I gotta get up soon. So I locked up and climbed back in bed. Joyce says sleepily, "Where were you?" I said, "I was investigating the noises I heard in the cockpit." "What was it?", she asked sleepily. "Just a couple of 20 year old kids, trespassing and doing the 'Wild Thing'" I said. "WHAT???!!" "Yep, they are gone now," I said, "Guincha chased them off. That and the sight of yours truly. Ran like crazy." I could feel the blank stare I was getting, even in the dark. "At least now we know why they call it that," I added. "What are you talking about?" Joyce asked. "The Cockpit," I said.

Who You Callin' Shrimp?

I remember as a kid, There was this cartoon sales ad in a magazine. Some shrimpy kid at the beach was getting sand kicked in his face by a big bully, right in front of a bikini clad hottie. Now this is the kind of advertising that sounds home to a self conscious ten year old, because there is always someone bigger, better looking or stronger. If I just had that weight set, things would be different for me too. Well, the truth revealed; there will always, always be someone bigger, better looking and stronger. Always. Don't get me wrong here, I am not saying give up, check out of the game. Oh heck no. What I am saying is, at some point in your life, you have to realize that you aren't perfect, you aren't going to be rich, you are kinda ugly and it is getting worse, you're not a total badass... whatever. By the way, it is OK to realize more than one of these if it applies to you. At some point you become... OK with it. There is more to life than that, life is more three dimensional than that. It's alright though. Being satisfied with who you are and what you have is something that should be natural, yet somehow we are pounded into thinking just the opposite. Realizing how unbelievably lucky we all are, and how insanely good we really all have it, that is the 800 pound Gorilla in the room. It doesn't matter how bad things seem at times, believe me, someone has got it worse than you. I am not saying this so we can all feel better because some poor sap has got things worse than us.I am saying, step back and realize how good things really are. Sure, someones got it better. So what. What about the things you already have. Someones got better stuff you know. Some people are worse off too. I eventually got that weight set. I used like crazy for a while, then guess what? I used it less and less. And even more less than that. (Not sure about that last sentence) Anyhow, I got into soccer, and swimming and girls and cars and... the cartoon of the bully and the shrimp didn't matter that much anymore. I'm no badass, that's for sure, I am OK with that. Hand me a beer or something. After high school, I was a lifeguard for the county in Daytona Beach. Those were the days... young, tan, and 100% in shape. I could run a mile on the packed sand barefoot, in well under 5 minutes. I could swim for miles and miles. Was I a badass? Nope. Not even close. My roommate was though. Totally. One day he said to me "Chris, I think I want to be a Seal." Silence as I stared into his starry gaze. "John," I said,"it's too late for that, you clearly are a human. It was God's choice for you, you should probably just stay with it". "Not that kind of seal" he said, ignoring my comment totally, "the kind the Navy has. Sniper, paratrooper, demolition, all that. I am enlisting in the Navy." Holy shit, it must be the sun. It's pretty hot today, maybe some cold water will help. I said "John, really? The Navy? You are the best swimmer I know, (he was on college scholarship for swimming),you are on the US National Iron Man team, and the girls John! Think of all those tanned girls at the beach." It didn't matter. After that summer, he left for school, finished his degree, and joined the Navy Seals. I didn't see him for 28 years. I ran into John at Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta, we literally almost ran into each other. We couldn't believe it, but there we both were. We had a few hour layover, and had lunch together, reminiscing and catching up. It turns out, John was out of the Navy now, but was on his way to a Navy sponsored gathering for all active and prior seals, to celebrate the capture of Osama Bin Laden. Try to imagine the poolside antics at that party. Anyhow, here was John, smiling from ear to ear, still a total badass, it was awesome. So why is this story important? Because for too long, so many of us believe that the satisfaction that we get from life, is based on getting ahead, at all cost. ..Working ourselves to death to earn more and more, taking steroids to be the biggest, plastic surgery to be the prettiest. But there will always be someone better, faster prettier. Why not be happy with what you have, what you can handle, with the skills and gifts you have been given. Let it go, it's alright. We're not all supposed to be rich, pretty, or a total badass. I am just glad, not envious, that there are some out there. Ever hear of Cliff Young?

Badass. Showed up in overalls and rubber boots to race in Australia's 875 kilometer ultra-marathon race. At the age of 61. And he forgot his teeth. They laughed at him, the pro sponsored types. He smiled. Then he kicked their asses. He ran 566 miles, that's like 21 marathons Back-to-Back across Australia. He not only won, he won big. He shattered the record by two entire days, he never stopped once. Never. Badass? Hell yes he is a badass. How about Henry T Elrod, The Mighty Atom, or Nikola Tesla?

How about Commander Shepard, Chris Kyle, and Joe Medicine Crow?

All badasses. To find out more about them, try going to... www.badassoftheweek.com. Not only will you find out about these totally tough guys, but there are lots more there too. Every week, just like the name implies, a new story. Interesting.Caution though, the narrative is a bit colorful. You'll see. Speaking of shrimpy, we are parked for now only a few hundred feet from some small scale, local shrimpers. They pull small nets from small boats, and catch lots of shrimp. I was up early for work today, and ran down to see the catch. For 20 bucks I got a bucket full of shrimp. Yes, a bucket. And they were still alive and kicking. They don't get any fresher than that! Yes I am grateful for badasses... and shrimp.