Broken Things part 1.

By on November 29, 2016 in Wendy Ann 2
Here’s a picture of our gangplank, which this week is vying with the toilet for top spot on the chart of really annoying broken stuff. Funnily enough I’m quite happy to live with a broken toilet, at least we have a temporary alternative. When I say ‘quite happy’ I actually mean am able to tolerate. The alternative to this load of bollocks can be seen on the top right of the picture. Yes, we are tight-roping our way across the chasm of certain mud every day on two 6×2” planks, loosely bound together with a couple of second hand screws. What a shambles. As if that weren’t fun enough it has suddenly turned very frosty indeed so walking the planks has become shall we say um, a little exhilarating in the mornings.
As you can see from the picture I was so disgruntled at storm Angus’ handiwork that I’ve just abandoned the wreckage where it landed. In my defence it is/was quite heavy, but it has to go as it’s bringing down the tone of the neighborhood and attracting the wrong sort of crowd. 
Obviously I’ve got to fix this, and before too long. The two planks near-death-experience arrangement will not survive the next spring tides without near constant mothering, so that’s less than a week. Oh goody.
This was Thing 2 of gangplank/staging construction, and somewhere waaay back in this blog I’ve written about making it in the first place. I don’t know if you remember but Thing 1 was completely total rubbish and just floated away on a surprise tide when I wasn’t looking. This one was never really meant to be a long term thing, cobbled together out of scrap timber so I’m amazed it’s survived something daft like five years. 

But its all over bar the bonfire now, I suppose the wager is, in three weeks time will Seb and Becky still be tottering across this deeply unsatisfactory arrangement? Will either of us have fallen in, and if so how many times? And to what extent will I have managed to have begun construction of an adequate replacement?

Broken Things part 1.

By on November 29, 2016 in Wendy Ann 2
Here’s a picture of our gangplank, which this week is vying with the toilet for top spot on the chart of really annoying broken stuff. Funnily enough I’m quite happy to live with a broken toilet, at least we have a temporary alternative. When I say ‘quite happy’ I actually mean am able to tolerate. The alternative to this load of bollocks can be seen on the top right of the picture. Yes, we are tight-roping our way across the chasm of certain mud every day on two 6×2” planks, loosely bound together with a couple of second hand screws. What a shambles. As if that weren’t fun enough it has suddenly turned very frosty indeed so walking the planks has become shall we say um, a little exhilarating in the mornings.
As you can see from the picture I was so disgruntled at storm Angus’ handiwork that I’ve just abandoned the wreckage where it landed. In my defence it is/was quite heavy, but it has to go as it’s bringing down the tone of the neighborhood and attracting the wrong sort of crowd. 
Obviously I’ve got to fix this, and before too long. The two planks near-death-experience arrangement will not survive the next spring tides without near constant mothering, so that’s less than a week. Oh goody.
This was Thing 2 of gangplank/staging construction, and somewhere waaay back in this blog I’ve written about making it in the first place. I don’t know if you remember but Thing 1 was completely total rubbish and just floated away on a surprise tide when I wasn’t looking. This one was never really meant to be a long term thing, cobbled together out of scrap timber so I’m amazed it’s survived something daft like five years. 

But its all over bar the bonfire now, I suppose the wager is, in three weeks time will Seb and Becky still be tottering across this deeply unsatisfactory arrangement? Will either of us have fallen in, and if so how many times? And to what extent will I have managed to have begun construction of an adequate replacement?

FPB 78-1 Cochise: ETA 17th Street Bridge 1330

By on November 29, 2016 in Wind Horse

Attention SetSailors! Cochise is approaching landfall, ETA at the 17th Street bridge in Fort Lauderdale around 1330 local time. If anyone …Read More

Portland, Maine

By on November 28, 2016 in M/V Dirona

Portland, Maine was recently ranked the top craft beer city in the world, and it shows. The city is full of craft breweries and pubs. We of course visited several during our stay, but also explored historic Fort Gorges and did a four-lighthouse and Fore River dinghy tour. Trip highlights from October 17th through 20th,…

Inside the Iron Lady.

By on November 27, 2016 in Wendy Ann 2

I’ve always resisted doing this, defiantly stating that I was protecting my privacy or something. But when earlier this week I was asked to get some pictures of the important bit, the home thats inside our vessel- insight slowly dawned on me. I wasn’t protecting anything at all, I’ve just found a really noble excuse to avoid tidying up.

The incredible shrinking home that we live in is difficult to photograph, at least, armed only with an iphone it is. It’s small. There are bits I stub my toe on, other bits I bang my head on. None of the walls are straight. Its fiddly. Half finished, and often a bit of a mess. Drifts of paperwork don’t look so great on film. Nor do socks, phone chargers, cat food, unmade beds or the sodding washing up. It basically took a day to get these snaps, during the course of that day my method changed from ‘just hide the piles of crap out of shot’ into something that at least did an impression of a responsible attempt at tidying like a grown up. This only happened under duress, because I quickly discovered the piles of crap were making friends with more crap and soon I was spending the whole time just moving big piles of crap around. So I was forced, somewhat reluctantly, to actually tidy the mess up. Around this point I found the new flexible exhaust coupling for the generator hiding behind the stereo. I don’t know how it got there, but it’s clearly been there for some time. I filed it out of sight underneath the cabin sofa, with all the other things that I’m supposed to fit, or re-fit, or screw to the walls one day. There is a very real chance that it will remain there, lost with all its companions; until we change the sofa, at which point I will triumphantly announce that I’m off to renew the generators exhaust system which will take me about a fortnight to nearly finish this time before I get distracted and I’ll have to hide some different parts behind the stereo..
So for your viewing pleasure here is photographed some of our home, as she is now. In all her unfinished, unvarnished, state. The rest of it wouldn’t fit in or was covered in piles of paperwork and socks. Show home she is most certainly not at the moment. It’s probably a common experience for many many homebuilders in the closer they get to the end result, the longer achieving that result takes. And I am clearly no exception. We eventually reach a state of equilibrium, where just enough is complete to enable life to function. Looking over these pics I’m reminded of the various promises I made myself to finish this or build that, but maybe the important place to start might be more storage to hide crap in.
But, for the eagle eyed, or really keen to know, here is a list of the most obvious (i.e. large) bits that are next, waiting to be done:

polished concrete worktops in the galley
hardwood strip lining the engine room hullsides and deckheads
all those radiators want plumbing in
Yup, the real cabin sofa one day
Putting the wheelhouse table back together might be good
And the oak bathroom wall instead of that plastic.
Oh and my god do we need our electrician to visit for the 240v side of things.

I keep playing this trick on myself, to make a short list that suggests I’m nearly there. It’s a simple trick that keeps me calm. Obviously this works by excluding from the list a TON of smaller things to install, fiddle with or finish, enough to keep me going for probably the rest of my life, or longer, whichever is sooner. Becky is fond of calling them ‘snags’, but to be blunt, some of them, like sanding and varnishing that parquet floor are big and involved enough to warrant avoiding like the plague for some time longer. And it’s probably for the best that I don’t even get started on describing the list of things that are currently broken down because I will start twitching, getting cross and having palpitations and sweaty palms and that will not do at all.

Inside the Iron Lady.

By on November 27, 2016 in Wendy Ann 2

I’ve always resisted doing this, defiantly stating that I was protecting my privacy or something. But when earlier this week I was asked to get some pictures of the important bit, the home thats inside our vessel- insight slowly dawned on me. I wasn’t protecting anything at all, I’ve just found a really noble excuse to avoid tidying up.

The incredible shrinking home that we live in is difficult to photograph, at least, armed only with an iphone it is. It’s small. There are bits I stub my toe on, other bits I bang my head on. None of the walls are straight. Its fiddly. Half finished, and often a bit of a mess. Drifts of paperwork don’t look so great on film. Nor do socks, phone chargers, cat food, unmade beds or the sodding washing up. It basically took a day to get these snaps, during the course of that day my method changed from ‘just hide the piles of crap out of shot’ into something that at least did an impression of a responsible attempt at tidying like a grown up. This only happened under duress, because I quickly discovered the piles of crap were making friends with more crap and soon I was spending the whole time just moving big piles of crap around. So I was forced, somewhat reluctantly, to actually tidy the mess up. Around this point I found the new flexible exhaust coupling for the generator hiding behind the stereo. I don’t know how it got there, but it’s clearly been there for some time. I filed it out of sight underneath the cabin sofa, with all the other things that I’m supposed to fit, or re-fit, or screw to the walls one day. There is a very real chance that it will remain there, lost with all its companions; until we change the sofa, at which point I will triumphantly announce that I’m off to renew the generators exhaust system which will take me about a fortnight to nearly finish this time before I get distracted and I’ll have to hide some different parts behind the stereo..
So for your viewing pleasure here is photographed some of our home, as she is now. In all her unfinished, unvarnished, state. The rest of it wouldn’t fit in or was covered in piles of paperwork and socks. Show home she is most certainly not at the moment. It’s probably a common experience for many many homebuilders in the closer they get to the end result, the longer achieving that result takes. And I am clearly no exception. We eventually reach a state of equilibrium, where just enough is complete to enable life to function. Looking over these pics I’m reminded of the various promises I made myself to finish this or build that, but maybe the important place to start might be more storage to hide crap in.
But, for the eagle eyed, or really keen to know, here is a list of the most obvious (i.e. large) bits that are next, waiting to be done:
polished concrete worktops in the galley
hardwood strip lining the engine room hullsides and deckheads
all those radiators want plumbing in
Yup, the real cabin sofa one day
Putting the wheelhouse table back together might be good
And the oak bathroom wall instead of that plastic.
Oh and my god do we need our electrician to visit for the 240v side of things.
I keep playing this trick on myself, to make a short list that suggests I’m nearly there. It’s a simple trick that keeps me calm. Obviously this works by excluding from the list a TON of smaller things to install, fiddle with or finish, enough to keep me going for probably the rest of my life, or longer, whichever is sooner. Becky is fond of calling them ‘snags’, but to be blunt, some of them, like sanding and varnishing that parquet floor are big and involved enough to warrant avoiding like the plague for some time longer. And it’s probably for the best that I don’t even get started on describing the list of things that are currently broken down because I will start twitching, getting cross and having palpitations and sweaty palms and that will not do at all.

Boothbay Harbor

By on November 27, 2016 in M/V Dirona

Boothbay Harbor is a popular summer tourist destination, but less so in October. By the time we arrived, most of the businesses were closed for the season, including the famous Boothbay Lobster Wharf. No matter. We enjoyed a walk through the quiet town, got a few boat projects done, and generally spent a relaxing couple…

Belfast

By on November 26, 2016 in M/V Dirona

We stopped in Belfast, Maine because it was a convenient place to rent a car and drive to Bangor to have Jennifer’s surgical pin removed, and also because the docking rates there were much better than nearby Camden and Rockland. But we ended up having an excellent stay there and definitely would return. The marina…

Bangor

By on November 25, 2016 in M/V Dirona

Bangor, Maine is the home of author Stephen King and the inspiration for the fictional town of Derry in several of his works. Bangor also is the location of the Eastern Maine Medical Center where Jennifer had an early-morning surgery scheduled to finally have the surgical pin removed from her shoulder. Rather than getting up…

Escape from New Bern

By on November 24, 2016 in M/V Maerin

    Early morning departure After finally having the windshield replacment wrapped up, we planned to depart from New Bern. But first, we decided to stick around over the weekend for the Mum Fest, an annual festival/street fair that’s normally held the first week in October. This year, the first weekend in October was host […]