Playing a new game: "hit the buoy"

Last time that Cynthia departed, we both hitched a ride from Coral Bay to the ferry at Cruz Bay and had a great chat with Danielle, a NYC escapee enjoying the low-key and friendly island life. We all hit it off and Cynthia (a truly wonderful gal!) encouraged her to go sailing with me. So, she has been out sailing once, working to learn better how to handle a boat with competence.... and a bit surprised that I have NO working engine.

Her good friend came to visit, bringing her boys, 6 and 9, and she wondered if I could take them out.

Well.
Hmm..
Umm...

I like kids, being one myself, but.... had heard that these kids might not be outdoorsy, critter-seeking, clam digging sorts... and wondered if they would be bored.... especially since the winds were forecast to be under 10 knots. And nothing can ruin a day like unhappy, bored, seasick kids. They had not learned to snorkel and probably would get sick if we went out into the serious waves... and steering a big boat, admittedly, can be frustrating and boring, often at the same time. What to do?

Ideaphoria struck: we could go to the barrier reef/beach at Johnson Bay, a short sail in fairly smooth water. They could feed (or at least find) hermit crabs. Maybe we could find interesting flotsam there, like a big bundle of rope. And, even better: I've been looking for a good way to improve my mooring skills, so had pulled out a spare mooring pick-up buoy, figuring I could toss it out in the open water and practice with no other boats around. The kids might find mooring practice tedious, but what boy would not like to run over things? How about a game of "Hit the buoy"?

Well, the kids seemed to enjoy the sail and the new game with hardly any "motion discomfort", the gals got a chance to have some fun snorkeling briefly at Johnson Bay, Dash brought home a half coconut shell (I found the coconut under the palm the day before) to use as a cup, we all visited the hermit crabs,

Dash made a booby on a buoy very nervous as we returned to the harbor,

and I carried the youngest, Henry, on my shoulders as we went to dinner afterward.

A good day. Put enough of these together and one has a good life....

Finishing up my drawers

Before I met Cynthia, I made all the parts for new drawers on Dorado (link), then brought them (with her help) back to Boston and checked them as baggage. Almost all the drawers were finished in the next couple weeks... except for the one drawer I use as much as all the others together, the silverware drawer. That one has been sitting, partially assembled, waiting for me to mate the face of the old drawer with the increasingly battered and stained new body.

Finally, with a fresh gallon of epoxy on board, I've been finishing up some projects. Here is the old drawer and new body,

a rotten corner from a long gone leak, 

and the shiny, new, slightly larger drawer. (Yes, that IS epoxy poured into the bottom of the drawer, so should be very tough and long-lasting).

There IS a certain satisfaction in carpentry, in a job well done.

And there is history: I cut this wood on an ancient cast-iron table saw that my dad used to make kitchen cabinets in our house in Glendale, OH; the same saw I used to make a centrifugal honey extractor that I spun with a egg-beater drill, the same saw Kenneth used to make a wonderful rowboat in our basement.

Well, that's all for this post. Next will be one about some friends I took out sailing yesterday to play "hit the buoy!"...

A fight to the death and a tasty brunch.

I've been doing a lot of diving in the last few days, since I ran away from home. Ran away? Well, sailed: I found I could not bear being on my mooring in the crowded Coral Bay harbor any more, so raised sail and moved to Johnson Bay for the night. The next morning I dropped that mooring as soon as I could see and headed for Rams Head, catching a mooring as the sun rose,

 then slipped into the water to seek lionfish.

Well, I found NO lionfish, but came across a large, hungry spiny lobster. I extended a hand and it eagerly moved toward the fresh meat, so I withdrew to get my thick dive glove from the kayak above me, took several deep breaths, then dove back down to engage.

The lobster moved to my hand, clasping it firmly between its two strong, spiny antennae.... but seemed quite taken aback when I grabbed one of them. It snapped its tail furiously to escape and the antenna broke like a brittle old branch. I grabbed the other, trying to grasp closer to the head, but things repeated. I reached in after it and it flicked its tail and shot off like a crayfish... and I pursued. After about three minutes of hide and seek, I pinned and secured it. It grasped my hand and arm tightly with its remaining legs and I brought it to the kayak and back to the sailboat... and invited it to brunch. Tasty, but very different from our Cape Cod lobsters. I have some ideas for experiments that may improve the taste.

These lobsters are really beautiful. I love the coloring of the underside of the body, and especially under the tail.

After breakfast, I sailed into Salt Pond and caught a mooring. The Bay and beach were so crowded with swimmers, snorkelers, and beach folks that I almost set out again, but decided to relax.... and, after about ten minutes, heard “lionfish” in an excited conversation between snorkelers. Interest perked, I snagged my gear, headed over, and managed to get the wily little devil. Happiness! At sunset, I sailed back to Johnson Bay.


This morning, I set out again, this time for Hansen Bay. I dived on the deep reef, sometimes finding the surface a surprising distance above me... up and up and up and up! I spotted one lionfish so deep that I could not hold my breath long enough to stalk it: probably near 40' deep. Still, I came home with three more lions... and felt completely tired and ready to nap. Another good morning!


Now I'm back on my mooring in Coral Bay. Tomorrow I will probably go hiking and hunting at Brown Bay, maybe even start from Haulover and make it a nice 3-mile swim! Right now, I am well fed and completely ready to sleep. Goodnight, all!

Taking a bite out of invading lionfish. Sailing adventures with new friends.

Cynthia remains in the winter cold and darkness in Cape Cod, but says the warm blanket of insulation in the attic makes a big difference: she used to have an effective thickness of about 2" of insulation and now has 16". Still, she looks forward to coming down here in March. I look forward to it, too... and look forward to heading north with her a couple weeks later.


A report in January placed seven lionfish at the deep reef between Hansen Bay and Haulover, so I sailed over at gray dawn, dropped anchor, and entered the water at sunrise. Nine spotted, eight speared shot, seven recovered. I also found the remains of a remote control drone.

The thing I found really interesting is that one of the lionfish had a clean bite out of its tail: I guess an eel or shark took a bite. I am very glad to know that predators are learning to recognize them as food and hope that this holds their numbers down eventually, allowing them to become a part of a healthy ecosystem rather than the current situation. 


In the meantime, Diane, a friend of hers is visiting the islands with her fellow, Steve, and I took them out sailing and snorkeling.... and then again two days later. We sailed from the mooring to Water Creek where we found an octopus too far from its den. In defense, the octopus clasped a rock and changed color to instantly become nearly invisible. I had to actually touch it to show it to Diane and Steve. I've never seen anything like it... but had left Cynthia's camera on Dorado. Sorry! We also caught a mooring in Salt Pond and enjoyed that, although the waves lately have been pretty rough and sloshed us about and diminished water clarity. A final snorkel took us from Otter Creek (where we found many large thorny starfish) to Princess Creek where we found a large live conch and a nice Nassau grouper, an endangered species that we like to report on a tracking website.

Diane and Steve also helped me re-set the speedometer through-hull that sprang a leak. I figured that I COULD do it alone.... and only let ten gallons of water into the boat.... but we three did it in under an hour with under a pint of water! Very nice, considering that we replaced a 2" fitting 3' below the water line! Nope, didn't take photos of that, either!


When Cynthia last departed, we caught a ride to Cruz Bay with Danielle, a gal who has traded a life of business in NYC for contemplative work maintaining a local property. Cynthia encouraged her to go out sailing with me and, when she returns, with us. We sailed to Salt Pond (where I repaired a park mooring), to Booby Rock (where we snorkeled and got sloshed about in the waves), and to Water Creek (where I showed her the feather duster worms(link) that, I'm sure, were the models for some of the jungle creatures in Avatar. And she really enjoyed rapidly gaining competence and confidence sailing.

Once I dropped her at the dinghy dock, I could not resist stopping by and chatting with my next-door neighbor Zack as he tested his new hammock strung high above his deck. He invited me aboard his old and ragged boat and I had to admire the fact that he focused on things like an excellent fridge and stove and mattress rather than on a glossy paint job. Good priorities!


Thoreau lived in a tiny house on Walden Pond and, rather than spending his time making money to build or support a big lifestyle, spent his time and money socializing with friends. So many folks I know are lonely, partly because they are too darned busy supporting their lifestyle and partly because our large houses allow us to live inside in isolated comfort, enjoying warmth and Netflix and TV. Part of the attraction of the whole tiny house movement is to make a house that pushes one out to visit with others, to sit in the yard, to go to a coffee shop. Making friends, sharing ideas and plans, enjoying serendipitous encounters: this adds to aliveness.


One thing I love (and love to share) is sunrise sails... and very few folks are ready to rise and shine before the sun does. Perhaps I am cheating since I live right here on my boat and need walk only about fifty feet to set sail. Still, this morning I did yoga and then waited a bit longer for enough light to see moorings, then sailed out of the harbor using cleats instead of winches for the jib so as not to disturb sleepers aboard boats as I tacked past them. By the time I cleared the mooring field, the sun neared the horizon. I caught a mooring in Johnson Bay, ground my coffee in the hand mill, and brewed up a batch as the first electrons started to trickle from my solar panels. Nice way to start a day. Can't wait to have Cynthia back to share it with me.

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.