Spring in Michigan!

Beautiful weather! Cool strong winds, hazy blue skies, everything turning green! Nice thunderstorm a couple nights ago.


I've always loved spring with all the plants bursting into life, but  never realized that the spring leaves have colors similar to fall.... more green, of course, but lots of reds and yellow-greens, too.

The shiny red leaves of some maples,

the fuzzy red of an oak leaf,

ferns unfurling,

sassafras buds just beginning to loosen up..

Cynthia and I walked through the woods and marshes,

looking for mushrooms (found none), finding lots of places that wild turkeys had dug up the leaves, enjoying the spring scents, and finding this strange semi-arboreal creature.

Lucy loves hunting squirrels!

Once we returned to the car, we found ticks, so spent five minutes then and later picking them off our clothes and dogs... and added DEET to our grocery list.


We found loads of wild strawberries and wild blueberries in bloom. In another couple months the fields of commercial blueberries will be ripe. So will the cherries, wild black raspberries, and wild blueberries. Wonderful place for foraging!


And Cynthia (well, Lucy) found a mallard duck sitting on her eggs at the edge of a parking lot close to our house, near no water we know of. We wish her well.

Reflections

Here I am, back in Grand Haven, MI. I had forgotten how much I love the northern spring, but more on that in my next post: this one looks back at my last three weeks in St John, three weeks without Cynthia...

I find that a curmudgeonly mood settles over me lately and I don't really greet anything with much gusto, just stay below and read and eat. Perhaps this is due to the minor but constant pain in my elbow and arm (from knocking oysters off the hull back in November), perhaps due to being unable to dive much deeper than 25' before the pressure creates pain in my jaw (sinus? *sigh*), perhaps other reasons. I see so few people who live aboard their boats actually are visible, enjoying the view and air: they seem only to emerge to go ashore.

And so I fight the ennui. Maybe actually tackle some needed improvements on the boat, like rebuilding the hatch dogs.

And popping my head out at the sound of many little voices and flapping sails to see these cute little moth-like sailboats...

Or, rather than remain below when I wake, drinking coffee and reading latest developments (not terribly uplifting), I motivate myself with a virtual kick to the backside, emerge to do yoga as the stars fade, then drink coffee with my back to the mast and my face to the breeze and sunrise. Random thoughts chase their way through my mind like rambunctious puppies. And, once I can see enough to avoid moorings, I set sail for reported lionfish, on a mission of ecosystem purification, and note the unexpected thrills of finding a pile of shells with eyes among them (a hidden octopus in his pile of dishes) or of swimming through a shoal of bait fish while a barracuda and other predators harry the fringes. It really helps... when I do it... but I need to prod myself more often.

My neighbor Larry arrived on the 24th. I had agreed to help with various work and, so, climbed the mast and repaired high rigging, worked on reducing leaking through the deck, mounted the solar panel solidly, helped on troubleshooting and demolition and repairs of wiring and wood, and hashed out plans, ideas, and general life questions over morning coffee and evening rum & coke, or, one night, over an excellent bottle of wine our neighbors gave us in thanks for helping undress their boat for the season.

We took turns providing dinners: I would cook something one night, and he would take me to Skinny Legs for one of their famous burgers another. Sometimes sunset sailing would call too loudly and I would sail away, skipping drinks and catching a mooring in Johnson Bay, then sail back with the sunrise in time for 6am coffee.

And we made excuses to go sailing to St Croix: me to sell excess fenders and watch meteors (well, I saw ONE and a pair of porpoises as we sailed back), him to check their chandlery for second hand winches and stoves. We headed out with our 6am coffee in hand

 took care of business on the island, watched sunset and slept on the cockpit benches, then headed back home in the dark the next morning.

 a storm just made the sunrise more interesting..

And we sailed for home, wind increasing, heeling well over, spray making the deck gritty with salt. I got to sleep a bit while Larry took the helm.

Another good adventure and more memories!

Anegada

A year ago, we tried to make our way to Anegada, the northernmost island of the BVIs, but were blocked by a week without wind... and a lack of functioning engine This time, once again,  we waited days for enough wind. While we waited, we motored about and snorkeled new spots: the Seal Dogs (wonderful forests of staghorn coral), the reef at the north end of Eustacia Sound (found piles of conch shells dumped by some fisherman).... and The Invisibles (a beautiful submerged group of enormous boulders with schools of fish a mile east of Richard Branson's place). We also used our engine to pull up to the dock at Leverick Bay to conveniently purchase ice: I admit there are times an engine is nice.

Finally, the wind picked up... and the forecast called for much stronger winds in later days. We caught the first day of wind to sweep across the ocean

and into the shoals around the island. We used the engine for the last mile, making our way through the traffic of yachts and ferries, and snagged a mooring in what seemed like a crowded parking lot.

Barry, a local, motored over and chatted with us a bit and told us his uncle would be out to get the mooring fee: always fun to meet new friendly people!

With strong winds and a new island to explore, we went ashore

and rented a car. As a gardener, I have bought manure, but have never before rented something that could be called a "piece of manure". A friend finds movies that are so bad that they are actually good and this car was similar. I believe broken engine mounts created the interesting engine clunks and misaligned the transmission selector. One could lower the driver's window, but raising it took two people and five minutes. Only the driver could control the passenger window. Cracking noises from near the front wheels (ball joints?) made one wonder if the wheels would remain attached. And so much more....
And it was purple... and the engine hurt my ears....

Anegada itself is BORING! All scrub, blocking out any view of the shallow salt ponds

and the ocean.

Feral cows, cats, chickens, and goats stand in the road

(and left footprints while concrete pavement was being poured)

.

And the stores... I thought the stores on St John were limited, but the ones here measure 20' square and have next to nothing in them... but one we entered had cleats (for a boat) and cheap ice cream and diapers. I've never seen an island with less available to do, although the seaside restaurants and bars look like possible way to spend time and money), if one likes that sort of thing, and one could spend days snorkeling (with less wind!) and reading. We look forward to coming next time when the winds are lower (gusting 25 or 30 knots now) and perhaps anchoring in various places along the extensive barrier reef (the third largest in the world, according to one person) and exploring. Perhaps when the winds are in the 5kt to 15kt range, acceptable for both sailing and snorkelling...

We really did love this thatched roof over a bar on the north side of the island. Mostly made of rope and un-milled wood and palm fronds and a very few nails or screws. Beautiful and functional...

Michigan!

The last weeks have been far less itchy than the time spent working on my boat, but definitely memorable. Flying back to Cape Cod I saw the tip of the airplane wing orange with alpenglow.

The next day the weather made sure to point out that THIS IS NOT THE TROPICS! 

Cynthia had been working like mad to put in an entire month of full time work by mid month. We then loaded a UHaul trailer and headed to Michigan! We HAD to visit my cousin Jeannie since we never see her elsewhere, stopped to see the icy Niagara Falls

and this spire in the mists,

took a shortcut through Canada to Michigan, spent the next night with Cynthia's sister's family (and took the dogs for a very nice walk over the open fields),

and then, finally, got to "our house" in Grand Haven.

After two days on the road to arrive here, the pups took a few minutes to run through the house, then hopped eagerly back into the car, clearly saying "ok, this has been fun, now let's get back to our beloved home! We've been away too long!" We felt rather sad telling them that this is now their new home, at least for the next couple months. The next day I set them up with their dog beds on an impromptu window-seat and they seemed satisfied to sleep and wait for Cynthia to return from her first day of work.

And they certainly seem to enjoy the abundant sunshine coming in the windows here.

Lucy and I often compete for the beanbag chair.

So.

Here we are in Michigan! How can I tell we are in the midwest? We have Meijer, Walmart, Staples, West Marine, and Home Depot within five minutes drive. We have our own coal power plant for the town. Also, a really nice thunderstorm came through at about 1am on our first morning, dropping hailstones (well, pebbles, really) that drifted up as deep as nearly an inch in spots. Tio hated the noise and sought refuge in the bathtub, so I put his bed in there with him and turned on some music. Lucy, of course, snored right through it, cuddled up to Cynthia.

So far I've fixed one toilet (while keeping Tio company during the thunderstorm) and need to replace the valves on the other. And the shower drips. Wind blows through many cracks in the basement. And, when we got to the "furnished house", we found no sign of silverware, cups/plates/bowls, utensils, garbage cans, shower curtain, etc. So glad we spent the prior night at Cynthia's sister's place rather than arriving here after dark, exhausted, with hours of work before we could rest!

So, I'm busy fixing things and taking care of Cynthia and the beasts. Cynthia has been learning and generally enjoying the new job (and she loves being able to walk there in two minutes and seems to enjoy the people). Life goes on. Life is good. Life is interesting.

Boatyard madness and sailing at last

Written Wed, March 8:

Well, bringing my boat into the boat yard was an EXPERIENCE! I planned on only knocking off the highest sharp bits on the hull, then painting right over the thin crust of years. I figured that this way I would not only avoid large costs in time and money, but also avoid releasing all the encapsulated toxins on the bottom of my boat... and breathing them.

How did this plan fare? I've heard it said, that the way to make God laugh is to tell God your plans.

That fellow I hired after he came by several times, telling me that he knew exactly what to do? Talk about stubborn as a mule! This guy knew exactly what the boat needed and, despite my repeated pushes, KNEW that I had the funds to cover it. He stripped the bottom, ripped open blisters, patched blisters and then opened the repairs when they turned out to have imperfections. I learned a LOT about glass repair, but if I made a move he didn't like (such as patching blisters while waiting until noon for him to show up) I could feel his simmering anger. Finally, after the repairs had gone from four days to ten, I did what I had to and told him not to dig into the keel as I did not have the time or funds. He stomped off in fury, taking his tarps and tools.... but I stayed even-keeled and he came back, we talked, and we resolved the issues. He even let me borrow the tarps and tools, although he worked no more. He had actually thought I would pay him more, despite my telling him repeatedly that I had a very specific and limited access to cash, despite giving him an absolute maximum...

I wondered what sort of mind thinks that alien way. Perhaps I gained some insight when we were chatting later about another job he had taken. "Skip, I worry he might not pay, but he could be my father, so I should give him respect." I think I blinked a couple times: ok, very different.

Well, back to work on the boat: now I had tools and knowledge, but had to do all the work myself. The big problem here is heat: I can not work even in shorts and t-shirt in the shade and anyone working on fiberglass wears a full-body Tyvek suit and a dust mask.

Easy solution: put ice in my pockets! I can fit about a pint of ice in each and this keeps me functional for about an hour, then I'd take a break and refill my pockets!

Everyone I told about it laughed.... and then often became a bit thoughtful. I know of at least one who tried and liked it while I was there.

So, hours of grinding out blisters and then filling them with epoxy resin and fiberglass, letting them cure and then sanding them smooth. I had to figure out how to install glass where the keel met the hull of the boat, a rather complex spot as well as being overhead. Solution? Make up a model out of cardboard,

cut all the fiberglass cloth to fit, then mix up the epoxy and install it on the real keel: this worked SO much better than trying things out on the keel, upside-down, dripping epoxy!

We went through nearly 200 plastic gloves, dozens of sanding disks, many grinding disks, $400 of epoxy resin, a few Tyvek suits, and several dust masks. Finally, I was ready to prime and paint the bottom.... and running out of time.

Three gallons of gray 2-part primer ($170 each) gave me three coats. I started at 7:30pm, as early as I could. The next coat could start three hours later, so I painted by work-light, grateful for the breeze wafting away the fumes, stomping on the occasional passing cockroach. The final coat went on at 1:30..a..m.

Now, 2:30, the paint had to go on while the primer was still tacky, but no longer came off one one's finger. Three gallons at $350 each gave the boat two coats.... and they smelled even worse than the primer. The first coat finished by 3:30 and needed 12 hrs before recoating. I cleaned up and slept, then woke and rolled on the second coat: DONE!

Painting completed on Sunday, Monday Lee brought the lift over

and plopped Dorado into the water...

and I sailed.

Dorado, her hull clean and smooth, glided through the water, propelled by the 20 to 30 knot winds, slipping along between 5knots and 6.5knots, once hitting at least 6.8!

I believe my previous record was 6.1 and typical cruising speed between 5 and 5.5. I shot homeward with a certain delight... and occasional showers of spray.

Still, issues remain: a seeping leak just forward of the rudder & rudder needs re-building, LOADS of interior work. Mosquitoes have taken up residence in my cabin while Dorado sat on the hard. And, when I tried to run the bilge pump, I found that the hull-fitting had snapped off and the float switch had gone bad... so I had to make a ferry trip back to St Thomas for parts!

They say that once you own a boat you will never have nothing to do.... but this has always been true of me. I LOVED working on her, delighting in the functional work despite the itching and toxins, and look forward to rebuilding the rudder soon.

This morning I took my first sunrise sail in weeks...

and my last for a month or so as I leave tomorrow morning for Cape Cod. There is sadness in leaving here... and there is delight in going to Cape Cod and my gal. Right now, I sit under the warm light of the LEDs and listen to the rain patter and smell dinner. Right now is good. Tomorrow and the next day will be good, too.

Dorado on the rocks!

Dorado on the rocks?

Yes, I DO mean that the anchor dragged and the boat ended up banging around on the rocks for a while before it could be pulled free. However, this is a forensic discovery of the boat's history rather than a recent event.

I planned on pulling the boat Tuesday, doing a quick and dirty job of fairing the rough bits, apply a few coats of bottom paint, and then back in that lovely water on Friday or Monday and away from the noise, heat, lights, mosquitos, and toxic or itchy dust. I managed to back the boat into the concrete and rusted steel slip without trouble, they hoisted it and pressure washed the bottom,

and set me up in the yard, right by the busy road.

I rented a sander to partly smooth the bottom to help the paint adhere, although not perfectly smooth. As I sanded I found blisters that spurted cola-colored fluid, so I popped some and worked to patch them... but had heard they are cosmetic rather than structural and I think everyone knows how I feel about appearance vs function. I also found cracking where fiberglass was smoothed over the joint between the 4,000lb lead keel and the hull of the boat.

Experts have said this is very normal and not a problem as long as the bolts seem sound. Still, it seemed sensible to remove the loose stuff and smooth it out with some fiberglass.... and to smooth out the incredibly rough keel wing. But this became rather overwhelming: how can I do this much in the time I have, what shortcuts make sense and which are problematic.... paralysis sets in.

So, I finally said yes to a fellow who kept coming by and telling me to hire him. So, I have a fellow working for me who refuses to take my shortcuts, insisting that all the bottom paint should be stripped, the blisters repaired, and things done RIGHT. He may be right, although I find myself with very mixed feelings, becoming anxious as days pass and bills mount, then getting much better as we finish demolition and get into the repair phase. 

However, as he cleaned off the bottom paint (and bits of oysters and coral) we have discovered that the port side of the boat has a lot of repairs to undisclosed bashes and gouges!

Clearly the fingerprint of some traumatic event and, given the location of the damage, it could not have been impact with another boat, mooring, or dock. It sure looks like the boat dragged anchor and ended up on some rocks at some point.

We have not seen anything that leads us to believe that the structural integrity has been compromised and, today, moved launch day to this Friday.

Man, the things you see when you bring your aged equipment in for a good expert checkup can be pretty scarey... *grin*