Well, we have been here for a few days now. We arrived on the 30th, and spent that day clearing customs, getting something to eat, and then falling into bed at (I am not joking) 4:30 pm (3:30 for Mike) and slept through til Wednesday. We then spent most of Wednesday cleaning up the boat after our harrowing sail down here, and then were in bed by something like 7 pm. Thursday we worked on our bilge and the bilge pump to make sure there were no more problems and our theory about how the bilge filled in the first place was correct. (We are sure it was correct.) We strolled around a bit, had some food, and stayed up until after 8 pm! I can't remember Friday - Saturday I made it to 9 pm. We watched the Chargers game Sunday, had dinner, and finally we are keeping normal grown up hours. At our age, it takes a while to recover from being up all night and being traumatized.
Now I must admit that after we dissected the trip down several times, we realized that but for the flood, the rest of it was handle-able. The strong winds lasted only a few hours, and had I kept up on the barometer, theoretically we would have been aware some drama was about to occur and the sails would have been ready for it. Things had actually begun to die down a bit by the time we discovered the flooded cabin, so without that, our story would not have been so, well, harrowing. Not to get cocky, though. There are still tons of mistakes we can make if we are not on top of things. And me being sick was no help at all, although Mike said I toughed it out well. He told me he was feeling pretty awful when he went below and was manning the manual bilge pump. So it is nice that he understood and wasn't thinking I was being wimpy about anything. I also recently discovered a remedy for seasickness - it is called sturgeron (not sturgeon!) and is not available in the US. It has no side effects like the sleepiness one gets from dramamine, and better yet - you don't have to take it in advance - it is effective even after you start to feel crappy. I don't normally get seasick and even if I do feel funny, I can usually cure it with ginger candy. This time the ginger couldn't do its job because nothing was going to stay down at that point. I am excited to try this stuff.
I learned about it from a fellow sailor we met when we attended the weekly meeting of the Ensenada Cruisers Yacht Club - a loose group of people who live here and who are passing through. (I consider myself living here now because I have no home anywhere else.) They were fun, interesting, and a font of knowlege. One of them has an art studio here and is giving a workshop on watercolors, which I hope to attend. Maybe I will finally learn to use those paints I bought properly!
It is strange to be living like this. I feel sort of like a helium balloon after some kid let go of the string. I feel completely rootless, and it is taking some getting used to. I called my son just to hear his voice - would that he was more of a phone talker, at least to me! But he isn't, so the sound of his voice is about all I got. (I am pretty sure he doesn't read this.) It is also strange not to be working yet not having to worry about money too much. I have had some sort of a job since I was 14 years old (earlier if you count babysitting) and I sort of feel like somehow everything can come crashing down at any moment. I'd like to get to know some of the other cruising women better so I could talk about this stuff. Mike is pretty good - we share a lot of these feelings - but nothing beats talking with another woman who knows where you are coming from. My anxiety level is higher than I'd like it to be, but I guess no dramatic life change can happen without some discomfort. I am still concerned about my blood sugar, as I am really worried about being diabetic. It runs rampant on my mother's side of the family.
We are going back to San Diego in a couple of days to take care of some loose ends, and to pick up some boat spares and other things we (Mike) decided we needed. No argument from me. After his masterful repair-while-underway of the recalcitrant bilge pump, he is my shipwright hero. Anything he thinks we need, he can get. We will take a bus up - there are several options, all pretty easy.
I discovered a wonderful drink - they take clamato juice, zap it up with salt, pepper, worcestshire (I know this is spelled wrong), and a dash of tabasco sauce, and then they add real clams. Its like a meal in a glass. They do make them with vodka or something, but with the diabetes threat, I am staying away from alcohol til things are more under control and the numbers are better. But I love clams, and this drink is heavenly with lots of protein due to the clams and vitamins from the clamato. All without a lot of sugar as best as I can tell. And since I have very little appetite these days, it keeps me going. The loss of appetite is not a bad thing, since I desperately need to lose some weight. That is one area that is going nicely - I have no access to a scale, but there is a dress that I couldn't even get zipped in September that now fits pretty well. And of course the expensive pants I bought at the marine specialty shop are getting loose. But that is all good stuff.
Anyway - that is what is happening now. The woman in one of our new favorite restaurants always gives me a Spanish lesson when we come in, and my Spanish gets better every day. I get a lot of compliments from the people I talk to. I like to speak Spanish, and at times, I am getting to the point it just comes out without having to translate everything in my head first. My immediate goal is to learn to speak in more than just the present tense! Adios amigos, hasta luego!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
The Revenge of Tempest
I am writing this from Ensenada, Mexico. It is nice and peaceful here in the marina. Things were not so nice, however, on the way down here. Let me begin at the beginning . . .
We left San Diego on Monday, November 30, at three pm. We had a nice motor out of the harbor, and then put the sails up. We sailed along nicely for a couple of hours, and then the wind went all screwy. It didn't exactly die down, but rather was coming from all different directions. This made it extremely difficult to set the sails. We basically drifted along with the current (which thankfully was going south, just the way we wanted to go), with the sails slatting around all over the place. The seas also began to act up, causing big waves that battered the boat about in a very uncomfortable way. I do not usually get seasick, but I did this time. This was the situation from about seven pm until about one am, at which time the wind shifted to the east and began howling at about 20-30 knots. This would not have been so bad had it not been for the mounting waves, which were reaching 10-12 feet. I know that when I looked at Mike standing in the cockpit at the helm, the waves were as tall as he was and even taller. We were surfing down waves at 9 to 9.5 knots, which is faster than we are supposed to be able to go.
This part was actually pretty exhilerating. It would have been more fun for me had I not been so sick. Being seasick is more than just being sick to one's stomach - it also makes one disoriented and and sleepy. And slow on the uptake. All I could really focus on was trying not to throw up too much. We had to reef the sails (make them smaller) in order to handle the strong winds. Reefing is one of those things one needs to do BEFORE one actually needs to do it. The reason we did not do it sooner was because I was so sick I did not try to read the barometer when I logged our hourly position, because being below trying to read it made me even sicker. That is not an excuse, believe me. I have learned my lesson. Had I done so, and told Mike how much barometric activity there was, we would have known we needed to reef those sails - a skill we have not practiced - in plenty of time before it all got so wild. So we had to struggle with the sails in a strong wind. Very difficult and not fun. But we got that done and thought everything was reasonably settled, except for my stomach. Little did we know.
At about when three thirty in the morning, Mike looked down into the cabin and discovered to our horror that the floor of the cabin was covered with water. He lifted the floorboard to discover the bilge was completely full of water. He hollered at me that we were in danger of sinking. I cannot tell you what I was thinking, because I wasn't. The only reason I wasn't ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED was twofold: I was too sick to really process it all, and I could still see land, so I figured rescue would be possible. Probably not true, but it was a comfort at the time. Mike and I immediately started using the manual pumps to clear the bilge - a physically exhausting job. I called to Mike "Shall we get on the radio?" He hollered back "Not yet!" So I figured at that point he must have a plan. He was on his stomach digging around in the bilge while the boat rocked all over the place and we went completely off course. That was the least of our worries. Our big concern was that we could not tell where the water was coming in from. Mike finally got the bilge pump working again, which was clogged with - you guessed it - DOG HAIR! (Hence the title of this post - Tempest did not like us making her live on a boat and punished us for it.)
Once the pump was working again, the seas also began to calm down, but by this time we had dropped the sails because the wind was against us and we were too tired to diddle around with the tediousness of tacking back and forth, and we also felt a need to get to safety. We turned on the engine to make better time. We noticed that as soon as the seas calmed down we were no longer taking on so much water, so that narrowed the possibilities as to what was going wrong. By the time we got into the harbor, the sun was shining and there was almost no wind. Mike docked like the champion he is, and I was never so happy and relieved in my life. It took another two or three hours to go through customs and all that stuff, we got something to eat, and went to bed at four in the afternoon and did not get up until Wednesday morning. I have never slept so long or so hard.
Later, we figured out the water came in through the anchor hawse pipe, which is the space where the anchor chain comes out of the bow (front pointy part) of the boat. Because the seas were so high, hundreds of gallons of water poured through that space, and the dirty bilge caused the pump to clog and therefore short out. We now know to plug that space! This morning we tore the bilge open and cleaned it out. That is one nasty, disgusting job. But it is done, the bilge is clean, and the pump seems to be working properly.
We didn't have any idea the weather would get so bad. We can no longer blithely assume the weatherman will be right. I should have kept track of the barometer. Next time, even if I am sick, I will do that first, no matter how close to throwing up I come. We will plug the anchor hawse pipe, and will also make sure we have a spare bilge pump - just in case. I am proud of us, because we kept our heads, I didn't cry, Mike was awesome with his mechanical skills and diagnostic ability, and we didn't need to call for help. (I did forget one other problem - it was REALLY cold out there on top of everything else, but as soon as everything started going south, we worked up a sweat with the manual pump and the cold was not much of an issue compared to the rest of it.)
But we are really happy to be here in Mexico. The people are wonderful and I have been speaking Spanish like crazy. If this keeps up, I will be fluent before I know it. We will be here for a couple of weeks, because we want to get all the wood on the outside of the boat redone. I love it here and don't care how long we stay. Viva la Mexico!
We left San Diego on Monday, November 30, at three pm. We had a nice motor out of the harbor, and then put the sails up. We sailed along nicely for a couple of hours, and then the wind went all screwy. It didn't exactly die down, but rather was coming from all different directions. This made it extremely difficult to set the sails. We basically drifted along with the current (which thankfully was going south, just the way we wanted to go), with the sails slatting around all over the place. The seas also began to act up, causing big waves that battered the boat about in a very uncomfortable way. I do not usually get seasick, but I did this time. This was the situation from about seven pm until about one am, at which time the wind shifted to the east and began howling at about 20-30 knots. This would not have been so bad had it not been for the mounting waves, which were reaching 10-12 feet. I know that when I looked at Mike standing in the cockpit at the helm, the waves were as tall as he was and even taller. We were surfing down waves at 9 to 9.5 knots, which is faster than we are supposed to be able to go.
This part was actually pretty exhilerating. It would have been more fun for me had I not been so sick. Being seasick is more than just being sick to one's stomach - it also makes one disoriented and and sleepy. And slow on the uptake. All I could really focus on was trying not to throw up too much. We had to reef the sails (make them smaller) in order to handle the strong winds. Reefing is one of those things one needs to do BEFORE one actually needs to do it. The reason we did not do it sooner was because I was so sick I did not try to read the barometer when I logged our hourly position, because being below trying to read it made me even sicker. That is not an excuse, believe me. I have learned my lesson. Had I done so, and told Mike how much barometric activity there was, we would have known we needed to reef those sails - a skill we have not practiced - in plenty of time before it all got so wild. So we had to struggle with the sails in a strong wind. Very difficult and not fun. But we got that done and thought everything was reasonably settled, except for my stomach. Little did we know.
At about when three thirty in the morning, Mike looked down into the cabin and discovered to our horror that the floor of the cabin was covered with water. He lifted the floorboard to discover the bilge was completely full of water. He hollered at me that we were in danger of sinking. I cannot tell you what I was thinking, because I wasn't. The only reason I wasn't ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED was twofold: I was too sick to really process it all, and I could still see land, so I figured rescue would be possible. Probably not true, but it was a comfort at the time. Mike and I immediately started using the manual pumps to clear the bilge - a physically exhausting job. I called to Mike "Shall we get on the radio?" He hollered back "Not yet!" So I figured at that point he must have a plan. He was on his stomach digging around in the bilge while the boat rocked all over the place and we went completely off course. That was the least of our worries. Our big concern was that we could not tell where the water was coming in from. Mike finally got the bilge pump working again, which was clogged with - you guessed it - DOG HAIR! (Hence the title of this post - Tempest did not like us making her live on a boat and punished us for it.)
Once the pump was working again, the seas also began to calm down, but by this time we had dropped the sails because the wind was against us and we were too tired to diddle around with the tediousness of tacking back and forth, and we also felt a need to get to safety. We turned on the engine to make better time. We noticed that as soon as the seas calmed down we were no longer taking on so much water, so that narrowed the possibilities as to what was going wrong. By the time we got into the harbor, the sun was shining and there was almost no wind. Mike docked like the champion he is, and I was never so happy and relieved in my life. It took another two or three hours to go through customs and all that stuff, we got something to eat, and went to bed at four in the afternoon and did not get up until Wednesday morning. I have never slept so long or so hard.
Later, we figured out the water came in through the anchor hawse pipe, which is the space where the anchor chain comes out of the bow (front pointy part) of the boat. Because the seas were so high, hundreds of gallons of water poured through that space, and the dirty bilge caused the pump to clog and therefore short out. We now know to plug that space! This morning we tore the bilge open and cleaned it out. That is one nasty, disgusting job. But it is done, the bilge is clean, and the pump seems to be working properly.
We didn't have any idea the weather would get so bad. We can no longer blithely assume the weatherman will be right. I should have kept track of the barometer. Next time, even if I am sick, I will do that first, no matter how close to throwing up I come. We will plug the anchor hawse pipe, and will also make sure we have a spare bilge pump - just in case. I am proud of us, because we kept our heads, I didn't cry, Mike was awesome with his mechanical skills and diagnostic ability, and we didn't need to call for help. (I did forget one other problem - it was REALLY cold out there on top of everything else, but as soon as everything started going south, we worked up a sweat with the manual pump and the cold was not much of an issue compared to the rest of it.)
But we are really happy to be here in Mexico. The people are wonderful and I have been speaking Spanish like crazy. If this keeps up, I will be fluent before I know it. We will be here for a couple of weeks, because we want to get all the wood on the outside of the boat redone. I love it here and don't care how long we stay. Viva la Mexico!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving in San Diego
Since it is but two days to Thanksgiving and we are still here, this year it will not be celebrated in Mexico. Here is the most current, and sorriest reason yet for not leaving - we have to wait for the bank to send us new credit cards. No, they were not lost and they did not expire. Mike literally wore his out at West Marine. The damn thing is about to break in half. The magnetic strip is damaged. And of course you cannot just walk into the bank and get a new one. Not possible! So we wait. And wait. Now that the boat is ready to go, it is terribly frustrating.
My medical tests came back and while the doctor did not label me as officially diabetic, I have to test my blood twice a day and I cannot eat anything that actually tastes good. Fruit! Who would have thought they could take that away! But I am being overly dramatic - it is no worse than Weight Watchers, which I know I can do, and it is sort of interesting to do the blood tests.
The first time I could not get the machine to work properly, so I had to call customer service. After the guy on the phone walked me through the recalibration and reset process, he had me do a test. I left the phone on the settee and went to wash my hands for the test. Mike wanted to know what I was doing, so I told him I was washing my hands for the test. He said "Why? Did they tell you it was not okay just to lick your finger before poking it?" The guy on the phone heard him, so after that it was just one big phone party with laughing as the guy talked me through the process. There - enough about my health.
Although we haven 't left yet, I do love living on this boat. I can clean it from stem to stern in an hour or so, and that includes vacuming. Even though it is cold (by SoCal standards) we have a space heater. I still do not miss TV, only when I am sitting around at night and am not in the mood to read or Mikeis talking too much for me to read. We have watched a couple of movies downloaded from Netflicks, but the internet connection at this marina is not very good. I know for a fact it is much better at Baja Naval, the marina in Ensenada, but I have to learn how to use a "US Proxy" in order to be able to see Netflicks and Hulu down there. I have had to learn not to generate clutter, which for anyone that knows me, is something very difficult for me. Especially paper clutter. But I have gotten pretty good at it - in fact, junk mail does not leave the post office.
I am currently reading "Kidnappped" by Robert Louis Stevenson. I never read it as a kid. I am really enjoying it. After this will come "Robinson Crusoe." I love my Kindle! It broke once, but I called Amazon and again there was a person on the end of the line to talk me through the reset process. I feel bad for anyone who actually reads this - we haven't done anything noteworthy. But please stay with me - I promise it will get better!
My medical tests came back and while the doctor did not label me as officially diabetic, I have to test my blood twice a day and I cannot eat anything that actually tastes good. Fruit! Who would have thought they could take that away! But I am being overly dramatic - it is no worse than Weight Watchers, which I know I can do, and it is sort of interesting to do the blood tests.
The first time I could not get the machine to work properly, so I had to call customer service. After the guy on the phone walked me through the recalibration and reset process, he had me do a test. I left the phone on the settee and went to wash my hands for the test. Mike wanted to know what I was doing, so I told him I was washing my hands for the test. He said "Why? Did they tell you it was not okay just to lick your finger before poking it?" The guy on the phone heard him, so after that it was just one big phone party with laughing as the guy talked me through the process. There - enough about my health.
Although we haven 't left yet, I do love living on this boat. I can clean it from stem to stern in an hour or so, and that includes vacuming. Even though it is cold (by SoCal standards) we have a space heater. I still do not miss TV, only when I am sitting around at night and am not in the mood to read or Mikeis talking too much for me to read. We have watched a couple of movies downloaded from Netflicks, but the internet connection at this marina is not very good. I know for a fact it is much better at Baja Naval, the marina in Ensenada, but I have to learn how to use a "US Proxy" in order to be able to see Netflicks and Hulu down there. I have had to learn not to generate clutter, which for anyone that knows me, is something very difficult for me. Especially paper clutter. But I have gotten pretty good at it - in fact, junk mail does not leave the post office.
I am currently reading "Kidnappped" by Robert Louis Stevenson. I never read it as a kid. I am really enjoying it. After this will come "Robinson Crusoe." I love my Kindle! It broke once, but I called Amazon and again there was a person on the end of the line to talk me through the reset process. I feel bad for anyone who actually reads this - we haven't done anything noteworthy. But please stay with me - I promise it will get better!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
test post only
The only purpose of this post is to see if I can do it through the short wave radio. Here's hoping@!
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Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Foiled Again
Of course things were going too smoothly. I went to the doctor mainly to get written Rx's, and they decided my blood sugar was too high so now I have to have more tests to make sure I am not diabetic which of course I am not. It foils us because now we have to stay here for a follow up appointment after I take some horrid test that involves drinking sweet stuff and then having my blood checked. All this for what I know will be a false alarm. I think if a person has diabetes there are symptoms and I have none. Mike of course now has something to blame all my bad temper on.
The boat is ready with the exception of the dinghy motor davit, and the boat guys measured something wrong, so it did not get put on when it was supposed to. This is all a bit discouraging, but we will deal with it. I sure hope I get to spend Thanksgiving in Mexico!
The boat is ready with the exception of the dinghy motor davit, and the boat guys measured something wrong, so it did not get put on when it was supposed to. This is all a bit discouraging, but we will deal with it. I sure hope I get to spend Thanksgiving in Mexico!
Friday, November 5, 2010
The depth meter works!
Yesterday was wonderful and not just because Mike got the depth meter to work. We spent the whole day out on the bay. There was hardly any wind, but Magda Jean managed to ghost along anyway, which was really amazing. It is actually harder to sail in light wind than it is in heavy wind. (hurricane force excluded of course.) I took the helm for a good portion of the day and managed to hold the course - another thing that is difficult when there is no wind. It was also over 80 degrees - in November! But it was wonderful.
This helming (steering) thing for me is pretty big. I have not been a good helmsman in the past. But the last time we went out, and I got blisters on my hands from handling the sheets (the ropes that are used to move the sails back and forth) I realized that helming is a lot easier than sheet handling. And if I am at the helm. Mike cannot annoy me by shouting "Pull! Pull!" when I am already pulling as hard as I can. So I decided that no matter what it took, I was going to take over the helm and let him drag those sheets around. I particularly disliked handling the large genoa, which is a big jib sheet at the bow of the boat. It is extremely heavy. And Mike did not seem to appreciate how heavy that sheet is. I concentrated hard, paid close attention to how things went, and I now feel like I can handle the helm for everything except docking. I need more practice for that. I also felt really vindicated as Mike got blisters on his hands and was looking at them with wonder.
Helming isn't quite like driving a car, because when you are in a car, the road beneath you isn't moving like the water is, and you are not as affected by the wind. In a sailboat, you can hold the helm perfectly straight and you will not necessarily go perfectly straight. The wind will try and blow you sideways, and the water is at times going the opposite direction you are. That is also why helming in light wind is harder - there is no wind to counter whatever the water is doing. So the boat drifts and you have to really watch it and keep the boat going the course you want to go. In the bay I use a landmark, but at sea you have to rely on your compass reading.
So all of this means that we are really close to being able to leave. There remains the davit for the stern rail, but that is being fabricated as we speak and should be put in next week. Oh Mexico - so close and yet so far.
This helming (steering) thing for me is pretty big. I have not been a good helmsman in the past. But the last time we went out, and I got blisters on my hands from handling the sheets (the ropes that are used to move the sails back and forth) I realized that helming is a lot easier than sheet handling. And if I am at the helm. Mike cannot annoy me by shouting "Pull! Pull!" when I am already pulling as hard as I can. So I decided that no matter what it took, I was going to take over the helm and let him drag those sheets around. I particularly disliked handling the large genoa, which is a big jib sheet at the bow of the boat. It is extremely heavy. And Mike did not seem to appreciate how heavy that sheet is. I concentrated hard, paid close attention to how things went, and I now feel like I can handle the helm for everything except docking. I need more practice for that. I also felt really vindicated as Mike got blisters on his hands and was looking at them with wonder.
Helming isn't quite like driving a car, because when you are in a car, the road beneath you isn't moving like the water is, and you are not as affected by the wind. In a sailboat, you can hold the helm perfectly straight and you will not necessarily go perfectly straight. The wind will try and blow you sideways, and the water is at times going the opposite direction you are. That is also why helming in light wind is harder - there is no wind to counter whatever the water is doing. So the boat drifts and you have to really watch it and keep the boat going the course you want to go. In the bay I use a landmark, but at sea you have to rely on your compass reading.
So all of this means that we are really close to being able to leave. There remains the davit for the stern rail, but that is being fabricated as we speak and should be put in next week. Oh Mexico - so close and yet so far.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Closer and Closer
Since we haven't left yet, it seems sort of silly to keep writing this blog as there is nothing that interesting to tell anyone yet. However, that isn't stopping me.
The elections are over. Thank goodness. I hope to never have to live through another election cycle here. I only want to read about it from afar.
We now have air conditioning! Really! Mike bought a generator and a small ac unit. If we are at a marina, we only have to position the unit in the space between the cockpit and the cabin (the companionway) and turn it on. If we are anchored with no shore power, we use the generator. Amazing if you ask me. I feel like a megayacht owner! Not really, but having ac is likely to save me in the tropics. A few people have asked me why, since I do not do real well in hot weather, I want to go to the tropics. Well, I only do poorly in heat when I can't get out of it. Since I am not working and will be surrounded by water, I can jump in and cool off. I can take a nap during the hottest part of the day. I can put the shade up over the cockpit so the sun isn't beating down on me. I can schedule work projects for early morning and evening when the sun isn't so high. When I went to Cancun, I spent most of my time sitting under a palapa on the beach rather than in the direct sunlight. I don't plan on getting sick from the heat. I know how to handle myself.
We also got a dinghy. It is a ten foot inflatable with a hard bottom and a 10 hp engine. We rigged up a way to lift it up on the boat so it can be stored when we are underway. The boat guys are building a davit system that will double as an antenna tower so the engine can be lifted off the davit and stored on the back of the boat for sailing. If we are using the dinghy everyday, the engine stays on and we just hoist it in the air next to the boat at night so it won't get stolen. Your dinghy is your everyday car. Last night a friend came into town and we took her and her friend to dinner - using the dinghy to go across the bay to the restaurant instead of driving. It was really fun. I like riding in the dinghy - it is almost as much fun as Magda Jean herself.
The only thing keeping us from leaving is a problem with the sonar, which acts as our depth gauge and fish finder. I could live without the fish finder stuff, b ut a depth gauge is essential. The boat guys are having trouble figuring it out, and it looks like we might have to haul the boat out. I am hoping not - besides the expense and time, I don't want to live in that dirty shipyard anymore. The fun wore off a long time ago. Shipyards are filthy places, and everything gets dirty. In addition, I really want to get underway. Interestingly, I am experiencing a small but unpleasant depression, and I am not sure of the cause. I can't blame Mike for everything!
Anyway - that is the story so far. Please stay with me - I promise things will get more interesting eventually!
The elections are over. Thank goodness. I hope to never have to live through another election cycle here. I only want to read about it from afar.
We now have air conditioning! Really! Mike bought a generator and a small ac unit. If we are at a marina, we only have to position the unit in the space between the cockpit and the cabin (the companionway) and turn it on. If we are anchored with no shore power, we use the generator. Amazing if you ask me. I feel like a megayacht owner! Not really, but having ac is likely to save me in the tropics. A few people have asked me why, since I do not do real well in hot weather, I want to go to the tropics. Well, I only do poorly in heat when I can't get out of it. Since I am not working and will be surrounded by water, I can jump in and cool off. I can take a nap during the hottest part of the day. I can put the shade up over the cockpit so the sun isn't beating down on me. I can schedule work projects for early morning and evening when the sun isn't so high. When I went to Cancun, I spent most of my time sitting under a palapa on the beach rather than in the direct sunlight. I don't plan on getting sick from the heat. I know how to handle myself.
We also got a dinghy. It is a ten foot inflatable with a hard bottom and a 10 hp engine. We rigged up a way to lift it up on the boat so it can be stored when we are underway. The boat guys are building a davit system that will double as an antenna tower so the engine can be lifted off the davit and stored on the back of the boat for sailing. If we are using the dinghy everyday, the engine stays on and we just hoist it in the air next to the boat at night so it won't get stolen. Your dinghy is your everyday car. Last night a friend came into town and we took her and her friend to dinner - using the dinghy to go across the bay to the restaurant instead of driving. It was really fun. I like riding in the dinghy - it is almost as much fun as Magda Jean herself.
The only thing keeping us from leaving is a problem with the sonar, which acts as our depth gauge and fish finder. I could live without the fish finder stuff, b ut a depth gauge is essential. The boat guys are having trouble figuring it out, and it looks like we might have to haul the boat out. I am hoping not - besides the expense and time, I don't want to live in that dirty shipyard anymore. The fun wore off a long time ago. Shipyards are filthy places, and everything gets dirty. In addition, I really want to get underway. Interestingly, I am experiencing a small but unpleasant depression, and I am not sure of the cause. I can't blame Mike for everything!
Anyway - that is the story so far. Please stay with me - I promise things will get more interesting eventually!
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