Sunsets

Ahhhh...another luscious, comforting sunset. Red sky at night...sailors delight I'm pretty sure it goes something like that. Anyway, today's heavily overcast sky reluctantly gave way to a tangerine-lit horizon. Funny, without the clouds capturing the fading light, we might have missed it altogether.

Beaufort, South Carolina, in late November. Not a bad place to be.

geocaching

I know I have been remiss in updating my blog for quite some time. Living on dirt has its advantages - like electricity, hot water on demand, the Weather Channel 24/7 - but one can find excuses for not keeping up the blog. I won't go into those, but I have found a few other distractions: singing, 4 year-old Lucas from next door, yard work and something called geocaching.

Geocaching is like a techno treasure hunt. If you have a GPS and access to a computer, you can go to geocaching.com and find out where all these little hidden treasures are in your neighborhood and beyond. Armed with the GPS and the coordinates, you trot off to go hunt them down.

With nine years of navigating our boat via GPS, having two onboard, sailing some 25,000 miles or so without running seriously aground or hitting a concrete wall, one would think that I could find these caches without any trouble at all. Ha! First, it really is imperative that the numbers are put into the GPS correctly!! I looked four times for the one at our local Senior Center and only when I returned with my walking stick to ward off any snakes in the area did I find it. I dislodged it from its very obvious hiding place. I think I will add a couple spiritual tokens to my stick from now on to improve my odds.

There are over 800,000 of these stashes so no matter where you are in the world, you can go off exploring and experience the fun of geocaching. I have looked for six and found three, but I am getting better at knowing what I am looking for. Most are in small water-tight containers like a film cannister or larger plastic containers. Some contain only a log for you to date and sign and then others are large enough for you to take/leave a small token. The whole idea is to get out and enjoy yourself while getting some exercise and a little "WD-40" for your brain.

So you think you want to paint your boat?

May 3, 2009

Yankee Point Marina, Virginia

(just a bit off the Rappahannock River)

Just sittin' on the boat,

Gettin' soakin' wet.

Now the paint won't dry

I might just up and cry.

It is said that one should not cry over spilled milk; I might add nor should one cry over a rainy day. Michael and I have just spent the last four days preparing to paint the hull of our current boat, a 1981 Schucker 436 motorsailor. Having spent most of its (?) life in Florida, the original gelcoat was definitely in need of painting. We purchased Sandpiper in the spring of 2002 on our way north for the summer. We had seen another, Mixed Blessing, in the Bahamas and became envious of the level of liveability the motorsailor could provide.

We took our Cape Dory to Washington, D.C. for a month (tourist thing) and Michael and our friend Jack Engels drove back to Florida and brought the Schucker up to Deltaville, VA, where we subsequently sold Beowulf that Fall. After seeing all that we had hoped to see in Washington, we then went back to Deltaville and began the process of moving on to the Schucker.

Why switch boats when we loved our Cape Dory 36, a boat we had owned for 14 years? The 10.5' beam of the Cape Dory does not compare to the added benefit of a 14' beam on the Schucker. We were now living aboard full-time and our needs had changed. Our favorite trip is to make the semi-annual journey down the ICW from the Chesapeake to Florida and back. A pilothouse provides us with plenty of protection from either the sun's rays or the bitter cold of a Nor'easter. It also draws 3.5', a real plus for our cruising: west coast of Florida, the Keys, the Great Loop and the Bahamas.

I've diverted from the blog so I'll get back to painting the hull. After receiving estimates that ranged from $20,000 to $40,000, we became instantly inspired to do the job ourselves. It did, however, take a few years for us to muster the courage. We painted the deck and pilothouse while staying at Jekyll Island Harbor Marina, Georgia, the winter of '08. 100 hours. We work slow; correction, I work slow. Michael has done the lion's share of the work. It requires daily prep work and then the window of opportunity lasts about two hours before the two-part paint sets up. We spread that 100 hours over six weeks, working only when the weather would permit. A daily routine of wiping off the dew, sanding, wiping again with a special solvent, and then applying the primer or paint. Shamelessly, I worked bent over with my hind end on display, giving plenty for marina patrons to talk about. But, we did get the deck and pilothouse painting before we had to start our journey back to Virginia where we leave the boat during the summer months.

November '09

(Beaufort, SC)

Our plan to return to the boat the following September ('08) was changed while we stayed back in Indiana to help Martha's older sister through her chemo treatments. And that's why we returned to the boat in April ('09), thinking we might just have enough time to paint the hull.

April showers bring May flowers. Shoulda remembered that old saying. Out of 12 days, it rained all but four. We did manage to put on two coats of primer, however, and hoped it would be okay without the final coats until we could return in September.

We returned again in September and, just like clockwork, we were able to put on three coats of topcoat during the only seven-day run of low humidity and no rain, requirements of applying two-part paint. three days for the white and three days for the wide blue stripe.

The process on a daily basis never really changed: wipe down the boat to remove dew, apply solvent to remove any trace of wax from the manufacturing process, apply additional epoxy to dings that show up after sanding, sand and then wipe down again with solvent. Then Michael, the chemist, mixes the two-part paint while I wait, armed with my roller and tipping brush. Because we wanted as smooth a surface as possible on the hull, I roll and Mike tips, removing as many bubbles in the paint as possible. It is amazing how much is missed, so we apply three coats of topcoat.

Now, we are not only "anchorage quality," but can respectfully pull in to most marinas without them having to wave us off.

South Haven, Michigan

Spending two months in a 1940's-era fish camp and working on our boat while it was still in the storage shed was a great way for us to begin the process of winding down. I retired in June of 1998, thinking that I needed the extra time to have garage sales, ready the house for selling and helping Michael with his responsibilites as Commander for District 24, United States Power Squadron. That alone took up 16 weekends that winter that would not be used for getting ready to leave. Our home in Columbus, IN, sold immediately so we found ourselves moving to Indianapolis, nearer to Michael's work, for six months before we ever made the final move to South Haven, Michigan.

South Haven, MI, had been our home port for eight years. We lived some four hours away in south central Indiana. We had learned to sail on nearby reservoir Lake Monroe; but once we caught the cruising bug, we looked for a home port that would give us greater sailing/cruising experience than we would find on our inland lake. (Lake Michigan is an inland lake as well, but her deep waters, length and width, and inviting ports became our instructor for the cruising life we hoped to live.)

During the first part of the 20th century, South Haven was a summer destination for thousands of Chicago residents looking for a cooler climate during those long, warm summer days and nights. A steamer made regular trips across the lake to South Haven. With the advent of air conditioning, the resort area declined and the orchard business remained as the major industry. Reminders still exist of that era such as the Super Haven Campground, Sleepy Hollow Resort and numerous Victorian homes along the shoreline. Today it is again a hot tourist destination with its mild summer climate and perfect sandy beaches. Boaters find numerous places to dock along the length of the Black River. We found a slip at All Seasons Marina, across the river from the local yacht club and the ever popular sternwheeler-restaurant The Idler. Whether it was a quiet weekend or one which hosted the Blueberry Festival or Blues Fest, South Haven captured our hearts and became our door to the cruising dream.

Beginning the cruise

Log entry: June 6, 1999 South Haven Michigan



After a year's worth of saying our good-byes, Beowulf finally untied the lines and attempted to get away from the dock on June 6, as planned. Strong winds hammered the boat against the dock, forcing the fenders against the pilings, making for a rather inglorious exit-backwards. We didn't know exactly what to do with the dinghy so it wrapped around a stern piling, anchoring us sideways in the slip. It is always helpful to have ten to twenty people on the dock to witness the debacle as well!



I am so glad I had forgotten about that scene. Among the crew standing on the dock were family members, friends and a few stray tourists who just wandered by and wanted to know what everyone was looking at. We had just spent two months preparing our 1982 Cape Dory 36, hull#77, for living aboard...watermaker, radar and arch, SSB radio, additional lining for the ice box, new bronze thru-hulls, bottom paint, new waterheater, installation of addditional GPS's, cedar lining for the hanging lockers, pumps and fittings and spares and more spares. If we could think of it, we got it.



Our good-bye party the night before was shared with fellow cruisers Jack and Kitty Engels on Kittiwake. They were smart enough to leave two weeks later when the crowd was gone! Thanks to my sister Judy and brother-in-law Stan and our South Haven friends, especially Dan and Jane Chappell of Chaps, we enjoyed one great send-off party.



Superhaven Campground and Fish Camp was our home for two months: one bed, a TV, a microwave and a coffeemaker. This was really a great introduction to living aboard in a tiny space. Superhaven was one of those delightful places along the Michigan shore where a guy could bring his boat up to Lake Michigan, hang out all day on the water and come back to Superhaven in the evening, clean his fish and cook them over an open fire. It was not a fancy resort, but it felt like home to us.

The cruising dream

Just do it! Follow Your Dreams... Driving home from work or waking up at 3 am in the morning, the catch phrases rang through my ears. Did I have what it would take? Could I sell it all, stuff myself and my husband in a 36' sailboat and untie the lines to what most would consider a very secure, predictable life in the Midwest? Ten years later and well over 20,000 miles under our keel, I guess the real answer to the question is "yes." The initial apprehension and fears might have taken longer to disappear than I would have liked, but somehow I've forgotten (well, not quite forgotten) most of the sleepless nights and knotted stomach that would not go away. Now I dream of the crystal clear waters of Georgian Bay, the sight of sailing past the Statue of Liberty, the depth of the blue water in the Gulf Stream, the pink sands of Harbour Island in Eleuthera and th Bayou Castine in Mandeville, Louisana. And, I could just go on and on. I just think I will.