Cape Cod, just in time for Jonas!

I'm back on Cape until Feb 4th: it was my turn to travel a couple thousand miles.... and things were too danged busy for Cynthia to make another trip down south to visit me so soon.

Fair is fair, so I'm not down there.
Let's be clear: for now I'm here.


Let's see.... a few days before Jonas (the big blizzard), we insulated Cynthia's ceiling with a large amount of cellulose after first wrapping both her potentially hot metal chimney and the furnace flue with fireproof mineral wool insulation. She worked on feeding the blower machine with the bales of insulation (over 1500 lbs!) while I handled the hose and laid down a foot deep blanket in the attic. Quite satisfying... and the first time I have used the stuff. I can see doing it again, but it would be a terrible job to do often. And I didn't get any good photos, but you can certainly find good videos of folks blowing cellulose insulation online.


Whipping winds made walking miserable, but we still managed to take a couple walks before the snow, and we walked today in the intertidal zone in Barnstable, where the beach had been naturally cleared of snow. The two Jack Russel Terriers we were caring for (in addition to Cynthia's two little black dogs) loved it.

A couple days after the storm, we played in the yard and made a snow fort. Too bad no one would challenge us to a fight... but at least I got some sunshine!

My toes are cold. *sigh*... now I remember why a boat in St John seemed so appealing. I SUPPOSE I could put on warmer socks.

Masthead work, monarchs, energy efficiency, and charter practice.

Well, life continues. I now need to get ice only once every three days, less than half as often as before. The mast no longer chimes with the motion of the waves. I've tracked down the drain on my battery and took a couple steps to deal with that. My first attempt to raise a monarch butterfly here failed. And I took out a couple nice young folks for their first sail on the open ocean, as well as showing them some of my favorite spots... and a cute shark. Sorry, no pics of the shark..

OK, people first: Emily, a cousin's friend's daughter and Rich were visiting St Thomas and I offered to take them for an adventure. Sailing, lion hunting, snorkeling in a few places... yes, I tend to overload the plate of offerings, but (unlike a banquet of food) ideas don't go to waste. So we sailed from the mooring in Coral Bay to Great Lameshur Bay, hoping to find a lionfish that had been reported there, but the marker and lionfish were removed. Still, we did find a cute lobster, many many interesting fish, quite a few octopus feeding spots (piles of shells), and even a sweet little 3' nurse shark resting on the bottom.

Then we headed to the other side of the bay and scanned the deep reef there, but saw no lionfish, just a ray and small fish. We set sail and discussed all the options remaining, but we reached a consensus that the day had been sufficiently seized and headed back upwind around Ram's Head and back to the mooring, spotting a nice turtle coming up for air about 50' away. 

We finished off the day with them treating me to a delicious burger at Skinny Legs (and we all enjoyed a drink or two), then we made our separate ways home. They seemed to enjoy the sail and snorkel and encouraged me to continue to work toward my captain's license.

On a visit to Cruz Bay, I found milkweed chopped down by road maintenance folks and even found a monarch caterpillar leaving the scene, so snagged some of the fresh leaves and the larva and brought them home. At first all seemed well, the larva ate some leaves and then attached himself to the paper towel I used as a lid and hung there preparatory to pupating. 

Then, instead of becoming shorter and rounder, it went all long and slack. 

I guess it was injured along the road: sad... I guess I'll try to find another when I return from Cape Cod in a month: I want to be sure they are actually monarchs rather than a similar species.


I've tired of the inefficiency of my ice box and coolers. None of the coolers hold a bag of ice longer than 1.5 days (my poor one only holds it 1 day) and the ice box needs about two or three bags per day!!! I bought a sheet of 1.5” styrofoam and, using spray foam, glued it into the inside of the ice box and old cooler. 

While I have not tried the ice box, am confident it will hold a bag for at least two days. The cooler is even better, holding one for three to four days! As long as I don't need much volume (and mostly I just want some cold drinks and ice to chill me on hot days) the tiny remaining volume of the cooler suits me perfectly... and I am saving about $2/day.

Speaking of energy waste, I was having trouble with my battery getting drained. I finally tracked it down to the relay that allows propane to flow... or allows one to shut it off quickly in case of emergency. My tests showed that the relay uses about 9watts: now this may not seem like much, but in 24hrs this adds up to about 3 hours of maximum power production.... or, put another way, means that I need to wait an extra five or so hours in the morning for battery power to get restored! Triumphant, I have been enjoying having my power back to normal... and then found that I forgot to turn that little green switch off last night. So, I've added an LED light as an unavoidable alert: let me try going to sleep with THAT glare!

Speaking of lights, I've been wanting to add a masthead navigation light, but that involved either going to the boat yard and having them pull the mast or some very clever work swaying 45' above boat and water. I opted for the latter and, finding Tuesday dawn nearly windless, climbed up, installed lines as temporary stays, climbed down and secure them, climbed up again and.... well, you get the idea: by day's end I had climbed the mast four times, called for assistance pulling wire from Rick on Long Distance, cleaned and lubricated the masthead bits, fixed errors in the existing rigging that explained a lot of the internal friction I dealt with raising the sail..... and found more I should do soon. 

I also got caught in a downpour (grumbling as rain poured into my open boat below), found my hands kept cramping on the fourth climb, and now have very sore hands, shoulders, and thighs. One thing I discovered was that, as suspected, the manufacturer had installed a pvc tube in the mast for containing wiring.... but the coaxial  antenna wiring had been run outside it and has chimed loudly ever since I owned the boat. Now?....silence... Very nice. And the masthead navigation lights make me legal for night sailing, finally!

And I've dried out the boat (mostly) from the rainstorm soaking.


Now I need to fill some voids in the deck and then re-install the winch, clutch, and deck organizer before I can sail again! Maybe tomorrow or Saturday I'll have my chance.

Viva la company!... and fun with lionfish & lobsters.

Well, Cynthia is gone: my bird has flown north (well, her 2:30 flight is now planning to leave 4.5 hrs late), back to the world of wind and cold and work. Her time here was exceptional..... as usual.

First of all, I sailed to Lindberg Bay and anchored a quarter-mile from the airport, then paddled to shore and met her a few minutes after she had snagged her luggage. Exhausted by the red-eye flight following many hours of work, she swam and cleaned the boat bottom with me, then curled up on the bed and slept for hours and hours, finally waking enough to say she did not want to spend the night there.... so we hoisted the sail and headed east (I keep wanting to say “north” since it is upwind and feels like up...which translates as north in my map-mind). We spent the night at Buck Island, arriving just after darkness had fallen, making catching a mooring trickier than usual.

The next morning we headed out again, going as far as St James Island where, exhausted by fighting the intense winds, smashing through the turbulent waves, and dealing with hot sun and (surprisingly) chilling showers, we caught another mooring in Christmas Cove. We ate lunch (one of these days it might be fun to go over to Pizza PI, a well-known sailboat/carry-out-pizza-restaurant there), then went for a nice snorkel/hunt, finding and killing one lionfish.

Anyway, you get the idea: we worked our way up the islands toward home, cooking and hunting and sailing,

 woke Christmas morning at Haulover, where she gave me a coffee mill and beans,

 then we did an early fishless hunt in Haulover Bay, then a later one in Elk Bay,

she found a den in Elk Bay and shot six fish!

 then sailed to Salt Pond, arriving at the Christmas party in Kiddel Bay a bit late, but in time to enjoy the full moon, food, company, and music. That night we "slept" on a wildly rough mooring in Salt Pond and, at sunrise, got another lionfish hiding under a knob of coral.

On her final day (yesterday? Time flies!), we dove Elk Bay where we found three more lionfish in the same spot and she killed two. She also found a very cool slipper lobster...

Then we sailed to Rams Head where she got another two lionfish that had been reported a week earlier... and found many spiny lobsters.

I've never met a gal who can tire me out in her eagerness for the sort of adventures I love. Now I think I will rest for a day.... then off to hunt lionfish, capture and raise monarch larvae (I found at least twenty today), repair my boat, deal with a fungus gnat infestation on board, and dig away at my todo list.

Butterflies!

Butterflies, so many butterflies! Every time I walk over the hill to Brown Bay they burst forth from the foliage. I saw one big black one the locals call a bat moth, but most measure about 2” across the wingspan, about the size of the white cabbage moths (really butterflies) so common in the states. Here, the most numerous species looks almost like those cabbage moths and I'm sure I see a thousand or more on each walk. I also come across a few groups of a half-dozen tiger-stripped species, often mixing with the white ones, but the white ones are the main show: hitting me in the face as I walk, easily caught in a one-hand grab. I don't know what has caused this enormous population explosion, but perhaps it has something to do with the several-month drought that just broke in October.

Found dying on the trail

When I arrived here two years ago, I noticed a species of something that appeared to be a milkweed shrub and, on closer inspection, found a monarch caterpillar upon it. No one else here seems to know about the monarchs and I haven't looked much since until last Friday, when I altered my path to walk past a milkweed. There, hanging from a leaf, was the first monarch chrysalis I have ever seen in the wild. And, nearby, a caterpillar busily ate its way toward its own oblivion and rebirth.

Very cool.

Good night, everyone. I hope that you find wonders in your days.

Contemplating.... leaking boats and beautful sunrises.

So, here I am in my little house on the waves, bobbing about on anchor in Lindberg Bay, waiting for morning and the flight that arrives at 8:30, carrying my gal to visit me. It seems so long since I've seen her and yet it is less than ten days. Hard to believe that just two weeks ago I was bundling up and taking the dogs for sunrise walks on the cold Cape Cod beaches.

I guess the days have been really full, but with what?


Well, I've certainly had my share of tribulations..............

I pulled the ancient and rusted refrigeration unit (yes, it was empty of refrigerant, but filled with rusty water), cleaned underneath it, and managed to find a very slight leak that I quickly exacerbated, finally calling Peter over to help lend an extra hand. I could have done it myself, but a level head and good mind is helpful and I hoped he would provide those. Anyway, it hasn't leaked a drop since, but I really should pull the boat and patch the hull there.... hmmmm..or should I? Alternatives swirl in my mind!

I figured out how to install the masthead lights and, at the same time, run the radio antenna and new wire in the mast wire channel so they don't clang all night... or clang far more gently. Unfortunately, I'll need ot climb the mast at least three times.

I wired up the engine and now can crank it with the key! The bad news is that I then found diesel in the bilges, so had to clean that up well and will need to track down the leak. Oh unmitigated joy!

A large area (18” square?) of the plywood core over the entrance to the aft stateroom seems to be missing, almost certainly decayed. Now I need to track down the source of the water, dry out the core, and fill it with epoxy. No wonder the teak handrail was rotten and loose and the dodger foot rusty and wobbling.

It rained for a couple hours today and water dripped in through multiple screws that punctured the void (see above) and from hatch handles and ancient portlight seals. At least I have seals coming tomorrow!

So many more, but who has time to list all troubles?


Plenty of good stuff, of course.........

Coffee in the morning with my neighbor Peter and occasional visitors: a nice way to start the day: good coffee from a French press, a bit of conversation and contemplation, a nice sunrise, then off to another day.

A few walks to hunt lionfish and exercise and explore. Got four more: confirmed kills are now up to 58, I believe.

Making progress on wiring, engine, etc. Very enjoyable.

My experiments with preventing rust on my stainless steel is working pretty well, although certainly not 100%.

I tested the park service assertion that boats do more damage to moorings if the boats are moored backward. It turns out that with my boat, the stern produces a strong, steady force and the bow swings from side to side, producing far larger momentary forces. I think that means that, for my boat, the park service should prefer mooring it backward!

Stern mooring leaves some slack in line

bow tension pulls bungees until line is straight

I experimented with adding a layer of styrofoam to a cooler. Now it holds a bag of ice for three or four days rather than one! More experimenting to follow...

I found weevils in a bag of oatmeal. “How is this good?” you ask. Well, the weevils are out of the boat rather than spreading to other foods (Yes, I KNOW I probably didn't get them all, but many are gone). And the wild chickens were a delight to watch in their excitement over a pile of oatmeal (“With bugs? Cool!”)

I dumped my composting toilet for the first time! Smelled like peat moss, I'm pleased to say. And I think I'm getting a handle on making it all work even better.

Both water tanks are full, as are four buckets in the cockpit. Showers and laundry!

I have lots of good, meaningful, adventurous repair to perform on my boat. I like doing things that matter!

Last and far from least: my gal is arriving tomorrow!

Neither a borrower nor a lender be?

(written 11/25)
Off to Cape Cod! I do love the cold weather, beaches, lots of dogs, good fresh veggies, and, of course, my gal. I will miss being down here: there are still so many things to do: a teak handrail needs replacing



and so does the micro-cracked gooseneck fitting (connects boom to mast).



I DID just install a second solar panel: 100 watts for about $2.50/watt. The dimensions match my old 75-watt panel, but I have SO MUCH MORE POWER! Now my battery fills nicely even on partly cloudy days and I don't have to be nearly as frugal and cautious. Still, I worry about letting others use the system: I recall getting panels on our camper and my wife turning on EVERY SINGLE light at night, as if she had to use every watt we brought in... I thought the extra power income would allow us to live a comfortable and frugal life without running out or damaging the battery through complete discharge. Ah, the metaphors!

I am often taken aback at how different people take care of things differently: is this why I am uncomfortable about letting others use my boat when I'm away? What makes folks ok with lending their tools, cars, homes? Is it the stability and foolproof nature of the setup? Is it whether or not things are easily replaced? Maybe some examples in my life might lead to some clarity...

I am quite willing to let folks use..
>my kayak and paddles: cheap and tough and generic. Same for my hammer: very hard to screw it up....although they MIGHT lose it.
>sail sewing kit, but would fret about my one and only needle. If I had several, I'd lend one out happily.
>Some tools... although I fret and like to get them back soon.

I am reluctant to let folks use..
>my boat for sailing unless folks show proficiency or leave a replacement deposit: I don't think most folks would handle it competently.
>my power system unless it has automated protection (and it may: I should check.). I think it has too many things to understand for me to expect others to care for it well... and Peter found his battery flat and ruined after encouraging a neighbor to use it while he was away.
>my water supply as it is often hard to replace (I COULD tell them they need to supply their own by catching it with bucket and/or buying it... or that they will need to pay $2/gal replacement costs... or just shut off the tanks so others can not use it). I even wince if someone else wants to wash dishes on the boat as most folks use at least twice the water.
>my composting toilet as it can be hard to turn the composting handle. (I'm still learning how to manage the system)
>my boat, even moored, as I worry that they will let things get moldy and moist by leaving things open when it rains.


I notice that I worry that others will not care for my stuff well, will not look at the aspects as well as I might, will leave me regretting that I lent things to them. I think that I often create systems that require a fairly deep level of care, knowledge, and attention to work well... and other people would likely be sand in the gears. I've always created systems around me that take tinkering and time and I find that it makes me feel more connected to my life support systems, but realize that this is very personalized and not well suited for casual lending.

Could I create far more robust or generic systems, ones that work well for anyone, ones that protect themselves from abuse, ones that work well for ANYONE? Well, there ARE commercial systems that do this, so it IS possible. I'll have to ponder.

Heck, one easy thing to do would be to give folks a quick open-book test on taking care of whatever they want to use. Does anyone else have ideas, other than just nicely saying "No, this is my stuff and I don't trust others to take care of it. Please forgive my little psychological quirk."?

Friends and drinks on Jost Van Dyke

A few days after Cynthia left, I needed to get my butt out of the harbor and catch some wind, stir myself to have an adventure. A couple lionfish reported on the south side gave me a good purpose, so at dawn on 11/16 I raised sails, dropped my mooring line, and set off in the light morning breeze. As the boat began to glide away, my neighbor Larry called over that he and Laurie were heading to Jost around ten and I should meet up with them if I liked. I called back that I might just do that and continued on my way.

As the wind increased nicely, I contemplated... and thought of my predilection for turning away from new experiences that make me nervous, especially ones that involve paperwork and people and uncertainty... and I spun the wheel to the north instead of south. I sailed past Privateer Point and Haulover Bay, turned west and headed down-wind to Leinster Bay, then headed north across the international border with the British Virgin Islands, through Sopers Hole and Thatch Island Cut, then headed north across the sound toward Jost Van Dyke and the boats anchored at the nearby beaches of Sandy Cay and Green Cay.

When I reached Green Cay I turned back, heading for home, figuring I would either have a great sail under my belt or would run into Larry and Lauri on Gigi and follow them through customs, learning the ropes by watching. I had just crossed back into US Virgin Islands waters when the familiar colors of Gigi caught my eye, so I sailed over, had a brief shouted conversation, and headed back with them toward Jost.

We caught moorings* at Great Bay, then motored to shore and walked to the police station where we dealt with customs and immigration, paid fees, and got our passports stamped. Then back to Foxy's where we ordered Painkillers (the drinks, not the pills), and visited Foxy and others my companions had not seen since their last visit. I chatted to Rafael, the bartender, about fishing charters and catching dorado (mahi mahi), then we headed back to Gigi where we ate cheese and salad, drank red wine, told stories, and laughed as the stars came out.

The next day we piled into Gigi's dinghy and motored ten minutes along the shore to White Bay and the famous Soggy Dollar.

Lauri and Larry at the Soggy Dollar

I had heard that this bar & grill had been so named because people swam to it and had been under the strong impression that it, like Angels Rest, floated. Wrong! It is a perfectly normal land-based place and tourists sometimes swim from their boats to shore.... although most now pay with perfectly dry currency since they are ferried to shore. Well, this place would have had to be HUGE to deal with the tourists, so building on land works better. And it is far easier to grow shade trees...

We ordered drinks since it was nearly noon (painkillers, again: not as tasty, perhaps because the nutmeg was mixed in rather than left to float on top), then sat down and chatted with each other and strangers. We enjoyed chatting with Frank, Tom, and Mary

(they had been brought over on a nice catamaran that landed them in knee-deep water) and helped with their excess spiced fries. By mid-afternoon we had each had another drink and lunch and we headed home.... and lionfish, the breeze, and the open water called to me irresistibly.

I climbed onto Dorado, thanked Larry and Lauri, raised sails, and set off for Henley Cay, a small island in US islands just off the NW corner of St John. Mild winds tempted me to shake out my reef and gain more sail, but the impressive shower heading my way stayed my hand. It brought some decent winds and a little rain, but most hit Great Bay and I reached Henley at sunset, dark clouds and occasional distant lightning making things far darker than normal. Still.... the reported lionfish awaited, so I jumped in and hunted... without success... until darkness and the vertigo and nausea from a non-equalized ear drove me from the water.

After a long night, a beautiful dawn greeted me.

I entered the water again and swam to the reported spot.... and there was the 14" lion, lord of all he surveyed, choosing breakfast! One minute later, after a slow stalk and a meaty "THUNK", I placed him on my kayak.

 Ramgoat Cay tempted me from a couple hundred yards away, so I paddled over and swam around that, finding another large (12.5") lionfish and bringing it aboard. Most satisfactory! I dropped the mooring and headed for Coral Bay with fairly light winds. It took nine hours of mostly tacking (I did a lot of reading, sewing (new zipper),

 and listening to podcasts), but sunset saw Dorado back on its mooring.


Adventure, water, sailing, simplicity, learning, friends, laughter.... these are good.


*We could have anchored and saved $30 each, but the private mooring field for transients took up all the desirable anchorage area and offered security and simplicity. Next time I may scout the sandy shoals along shore and anchor there, in perhaps six feet of water.