From marking time to floating in limbo

Well, we are back in Seattle and back on the boat, now for the foreseeable future. I am pretty relieved in some respects; although we are located way out in the Seattle sticks (as much out in the sticks as you can get in Seattle, anyway), it still seems relatively close to everything. We went downtown yesterday to see the new Harry Potter movie. It was great; Seafair weekend is in full swing and we went to the noon showing, right when the Blue Angels are up. The theater was deserted and we got the best seats in the house. It was the first 3D movie Mandy has ever been to. I'm not sure she noticed any difference. But it was fun to get out and do city things finally after so long.

Although we are back in the city, in some ways we are feeling even more disconnected. The problem with the truck turned out to be the head gasket, which is a major problem and opens a whole can of worms with respect to other potential engine problems. I had been hoping to limp back to Seattle with it, but it really seemed to be deteriorating quickly when I started out, so I ended up leaving it up there and we took the bus back. So we are without a vehicle right now. We have pretty much decided just to sell it, rather than putting a bunch of time or money into repairs and even then possibly not having it actually fixed.

I have mixed feelings about this. In our grand plan of getting out and sailing around more, the truck was never in the long-term picture anyway. What's the sense in keeping a vehicle if you are never around to use it? It seems silly now to put more money into it or to go buy something else when the ultimate goal is to not have it anyway.

On the other hand, we weren't quite to that stage where we were going to head out yet, either. We don't even have the boat we plan to take! So that's a year or more, perhaps, of having to make things work out here in the sticks at Shilshole without having wheels of our own. Mandy says she feels increasingly like a hobo. I'm torn on what to do: bite the bullet and buy something else, accepting that spending that money on a car takes it away from buying a new boat, or to try to make do without a vehicle, even as Metro is threatening to cut the only bus line we have out to the marina (a bus that is very nearly useless already, as it runs so seldom).

We're going to try going without for a while and see what happens. We signed up for Zipcar yesterday, a car sharing service that won't really cost us anything if we end up not using it, and which should be pretty inexpensive for those times when we absolutely need a car. The down side is that the closest cars they have are in Ballard. That represents a pretty long walk, which reduces the convenience factor considerably. And while it might be tolerable in the summer, it's got the potential to be untenable this winter, particularly for the sorts of business engagements that we might need to drive to. Mandy isn't going to be looking her best heading to Boeing after slogging through two miles of mud puddles to get to the car. Taking the bus to the Zipcar, if the route even still exists by then, would work, but it's hideously expensive for a short hop. Walking to get the car, bringing it back to the marina, then getting ready and going, would also work, but is a very time-consuming process.

So, I have some trepidation about the situation but the only way to resolve it seems to be just to try it. We will still have the option of buying a car if this doesn't work out. My first instinct is that we can do anything for a while, and that the best way forward is to just accelerate our plans to get another boat and get out sailing again, but I don't have any clear plan for making that happen. There are a lot of little steps in between to be figured out, like selling this boat, finding a place to live temporarily while shopping for the next one, figuring out what to do with the slip in between, and figuring out how to sustain our businesses while we are out sailing. We were on a good path to get most of our income from remote, online work, but earlier this year that fell off a cliff for some reason and now most of our income is back to coming from in-person engagements. We're still making as much, maybe even a little more, but it's a setback for a traveling lifestyle. The state of the global economy also looms darkly. Sometimes I wonder if that's just a pipe dream I've been chasing, making one poor decision after another in pursuit of the unachievable. It's hard to look back over the past few years and see how many situations we have been in where life has handed us lemons, and I have made rancid lemon juice out of them instead of lemonade.

So far, I don't seem to be learning from that experience, which has left me a little confused. You're supposed to take lessons from life and use those to improve your decision-making moving forward, but I look back at all this and even though I see all the poor decisions, the lessons always seem ambiguous or contradictory. I never seem to be able to apply any of them to the next decisions I have to make. I feel a little cheated; where is all the life wisdom supposed to come from?

Marking time

We have had a pretty dull, non-nautical, non-summery summer up here so far, with no real progress on any front: business, boat-buying, boat-selling, general leisure, or anything, really. I had a much different picture of how the summer was going to go. It hasn't necessarily been bad, although we have had some setbacks, but I feel like we've just been marking time, sitting around and going through the motions without any real plans or real progress on plans we though we had.

When we agreed to house sit for a couple months this summer, I had envisaged an opportunity to continue what had been a pretty productive winter, work-wise. As I have probably mentioned too many times, the boat is a little too cramped for me to really get good work done, so being in a house with a real desk, stable Internet, and un-encumbered electricity is a big opportunity for me. Unfortunately, I haven't had a lot of luck capitalizing on that this summer. The place we are staying is very nice, but there actually isn't a really good desk setup, the Internet has been a little flakey, and there have just been too many little distractions and disruptions for me to really get cranking on things.

My sense is that Mandy has done better, but it's been harder for her too, because a lot of the opportunities that have popped up for her this summer have required physically being in Seattle, so that adds the commuting element to the equation. Complicating that factor has been automotive problems, which I have been unable to fix.

And all the while we aren't really getting anywhere on our short-term goals to get Insegrevious ready for a potential sale, and finding a replacement for her at a suitable price, in a reasonable location, and in the right time frame.

This actually produces something of a negative feedback loop. Our inability to get sustainable, online business going also affects our ability to go places and look at boats, or to travel anywhere once we buy a bigger one. So it seems like we have taken a couple steps back this summer rather than taking a couple forward as I had hoped for.

I don't have any good answers for the boat situation going forward, but at least business seems to be picking up. We'll see how the dragging economy starts to impact that going into the second half of the year, I guess, but for now both Mandy and I are looking at more business lined up for the fall. It's all on-site stuff, unfortunately, but it does represent additional income, so that is something.

After this week we will at least be back on the boat, which may not be the best thing for business, but may give me more opportunity and motivation to work on the larger lifestyle arrangements again. And although the rest of the summer is no less crowded with commitments than the earlier part, we might at least actually get a chance to go out sailing a bit, even if only for a couple days at a time.

First sail of the season

A short one, and no pictures, on account of Mandy wasn't here and I was at the helm pretty much the whole time. I took out the lucky winners of the Federal Way AmeriCorps team's "Sweets for Success" charity auction, which promises a thrilling four hour sailboat ride among the many biddable items. We provide the sailboat, and the thrills. Also light snacks.

Snacks and thrills were in short supply this year. Pretty much any given day before July is a crap shoot when it comes to weather and yesterday was better than some and worse than others. It was sunny and moderately breezy when we pulled out mid-morning, but the wind died off as we got down into Elliot Bay and the clouds started to come in as we slatted our way north again in light air off West Point. Actually, I was a little relieved that it was so calm, since it can be a drag to effectively sail single-handed with four obstacles in the cockpit. As it was, I barely had to touch a line all day long, no one got sick, and no one got sunburnt.

Fortunately, no one had to pee, either; I charged up our recently re-assembled head (a re-circulating model) before heading out, and it still leaks. If there is a plus to this, it looks like it may be leaking now from the discharge hose and not from the main gasket. It's nearly impossible to tell for sure since it only happens when it is in place, and there is no access at all to see completely around the base or the gasket. But the drips I could see were much closer to where the discharge connects than to the gasket. That would be relatively good news, since we can always tighten the hose clamp up and see what happens.

But that will have to wait for Mandy and her tiny little hands to get back, since I can't get mine in there.

It was good to get out on the water, anyway, and just gave me a taste for more, which is bad because I'm heading to Arizona soon, where water and sailing are both in short supply. Sunshine, on the other hand, appears abundant, so I will have to hope that is an adequate substitute. Oh, and there is some baby or other down there I am supposed to see.

Back aboard

It is always a more difficult process to transition back into living aboard full time after a stretch of time in a larger space. We came down yesterday with our truck load of stuff and the inevitable compression back down into 33' is always stressful. When we go elsewhere to house-sit, it's the opposite: our relative paucity of stuff is released into a huge environment where it all flows out and is hardly noticeable. Here, it piles up quickly and all the habits of getting things packed and keeping them stowed have not yet kicked in so it is constantly cramped and untidy.

This year, just about the time we re-learn all those habits and things start to get ship-shape again, we're going to be off house-sitting again... the bad habits that come with living in huge spaces will only be reinforced.

At least yesterday was a pleasant spring day and we got to go for a walk and enjoy the benefits of being back in the marina. We have a fairly easy month ahead. We decided we did not ultimately have time to take any trips up to Canada in between now and our next house-sitting engagement, so we are just going to stick around Puget Sound. We might take some short trips to the South Sound, or to a weekend yacht club event or two, but otherwise we'll hang out at Shilshole until we go back up to Port Townsend in mid-June. We'll be back again in mid-August and have no idea at all what we'll do after that. August itself is pretty well booked up with events in Seattle or Idaho, so we won't be going anywhere then. After that, we're really up in the air. Gas prices being what they are, it's an open question whether or not my parents will need anyone to look after their place next winter. The RV is a thirsty beast! We almost certainly won't find a new boat by then, and there are some business opportunities that may be coming up for Mandy in the Seattle area anyway, so I guess the odds are that we will stick around here for fall and winter, at least. We may take some short trips but fall is not the time to be heading north.

I managed, eventually, to get the starter problem fixed with the truck. It turned out not to be the contacts at all, but the gear assembly, so I did end up replacing the whole thing. The new one was a little quirky at first but it seems to be functioning smoothly now. Next up: a vacuum leak (I suspect) that is messing with my idle speeds.

As far as the boat itself goes, it's in pretty good shape except for the head seal leak that needs fixing. The head is all cleared out and ready for me to get started, but I have not been eager to dive into it and it may be mandatory to wait for a day that is nice enough that I can have all the portholes and vents open before I start cracking it apart. Looking at the forecast, I am hard pressed to find anything of that sort coming up.

Getting ready for summer

We had to go into town last week to see our accountant, and it was our first opportunity to catch up with friends and family there after a month of dog-sitting had pinned us down in Hadlock, so we turned it into a three day mini-trip. It also conveniently overlapped with a monthly yacht club meeting, which we have missed the last few of, so we were also able attend that.

It was the first time we had a chance to spend any significant amount of time on the boat for a few months, and I was a little worried about what I might find. I already knew there were a couple projects to be done. The leaky head has been on my radar since last fall, but before tackling that we needed to pump her out (as clean as possible, thank you!) so that was on the agenda this trip, and also some AC wiring needed to be replaced/reterminated after a melt-down earlier in the winter. What else might have happened in our absence was what I was most apprehensive over, however; boats left sitting on their own do not fare well during the winter months and I attribute our relative lack of troubles this past couple of years to a continuing presence aboard even during the off-season months.

Our trip to town did not start off well; we had a ten AM meeting with the accountant so we planned to catch the eight o'clock Kingston-Edmonds ferry, but when I got in the truck and turned the key, all I got was: click! My first impression was that the battery was out, but that didn't really make a lot of sense since it had only been a week since I had been anywhere with it, and it had started without any hesitation then. Sure enough, when I hooked the charger up to it, the only change was: click!click!click!click!click!click!click!click!click!click!

So, most likely the starter, not something I could do much about right then. Fortunately, my parents left their car here over the winter so we grabbed the keys for that and made the next ferry and got to our appointment on time. Just before we went in, I got a call from someone and had to make some notes; the pen I grabbed exploded while I was making them, and got all over my hands and notebook. So I looked really poorly prepared when we went in to go over our tax return. At least that part went well.

Afterward, traffic was terrible, the weather was miserable, and Mandy was hungry, a very bad combination. We had to get gas before going to a restaurant, and since the Costco gas station is right next to Home Depot, I had to buy my project supplies there too. Instead of just being able to pick the wiring you want off the shelves now, they have some big fancy motorized rack that only store employees can use to access the wire spools, so I was further delayed explaining what I needed and waiting for the Home Depot guy to figure out how to get it.

Eventually we got the girl some food, which was helpful, and then I dropped her off at a Starbucks to get some work done and stay out of my hair while I was working on the electrical system. It was, I think I have mentioned, cold and miserable, but while I was working on the AC system the whole thing had to be off, which meant no heat. So, I fumbled around with numb fingers stripping wire and crimping and re-attaching various connections. In some ways I got lucky: the main trunk from the shorepower connector had been melted right at the switch terminals, but it still had enough slack I could cut that away and re-terminate it with clean wire. The length of wire to the aft AC circuit was completely trashed, so I replaced it with some outdoor wiring, hopefully better suited to the harsh engine compartment environment it runs through. That was a pretty short run so I didn't have to do much to replace it. I was worried that it had damaged some of the other circuit cables, but fortunately it had not.

I pulled everything off the AC bus and cleaned and shined up the switch terminals. I suspect poor contact there led to a lot of the excess heat in the first place. In a perfect world, that panel would get replaced, but here I settled for cleaning and sanding them up. The subject might get revisited next winter if we need to run heaters frequently again.

That work took me all afternoon, curled up like a contortionist over the engine, and I was cold and sore and in a spectacularly negative mood by the time I was done.

The next day, though, things were a little better. The wiring all worked, and despite running the hot water heater, battery charger, and a space heater all night long, it wasn't warm at all. Then I fired the engine up for the first time in six months and despite having forgotten to switch the battery over to the start bank, it turned over and caught on the first attempt. No water in the fuel, and I only had to top up the transmission fluid slightly. The transmission itself was no worse than ever. The much-patched muffler spat out a load of rusty water, but didn't leak at all. It's getting replaced this summer anyway, but it was still gratifying that all the patches held over the winter. Perhaps the rust has reinforced them.

So we went over and pumped out the holding tank in the rain, and flushed it through as many times as I could convince Mandy to do so. We pulled the access plate on the toilet and it was as clean inside as I have ever seen it. I'm going to let it set for a while to dry out, then pull it apart to hopefully find and fix the leaky seal.

There were no other leaks anywhere; the forward part of the bilge was bone dry. There was a little water in the after part but no more than was there last time I looked at it, months ago.

While I was mucking around with all those systems, Mandy cleaned up the galley and icebox and took off the rails that hold the ice box lid up, which were beginning to fracture and need to be repaired. We'll have to do something similar with the larger and more fragile rails that support the nav desk at some point, so fixing these up will be a good trial run.

So things are fairly good on the boat front, even as we continue to look for a replacement. As far as the truck goes, I found a rebuild kit online for about ten bucks, so that is on the way and I should have time to pull the starter and make sure that's the problem before the kit shows up. And as for the rest of our summer, we have a slightly better picture of what it's going to look like than we did a month ago. Some friends of my parent's are planning to go to Las Vegas for July and August, and they asked if we could watch their cats while they are away. Since we didn't really have anything else planned, we said sure. So we are going to be house-sitting for most of the summer, too. If there is time in between, we might duck up to Princess Louisa Inlet, which we still have not seen after passing by it five or six times. Otherwise, we finally got official liveaboard status at the marina, so we can hang around at the dock as long as we want or take short trips around the Sound without respect to watching our dock-time to stay under the allowed limit.

It's probably not going to be much of a sailing summer, but that's okay; we'll be able to get more work done, and hopefully afford a better boat when we find one!

USCGC Bertholf

We noticed something odd about the superstructure of a Coast Guard cutter nearby here for the past couple days, but she arrived in the rain and we didn't get a good look before most of her hull was obscured. We're pretty used to our two resident High Endurance Cutters, the Midgett and Mellon, both Hamilton-class vessels based in Seattle, and this didn't look like them.

Today she is pulling out and it turns out there is certainly something different: she's the USCGC Bertholf, the first of the new Legend class "National Security Cutters." According to the Wikipedia article, she's homeported in Almeida, so I don't know if they are moving her up here or if it's just an extended cruise. I haven't decided yet if I like the looks or not. Kinda boxy superstructure, but the hull itself is more classic. As implied by the name, these are more oriented toward drug-runner interception and terrorist intimidation than search and rescue, so there is less to like on that front. But, if we ever have a dust-up with the Canadians, I trust now we'll come off fairly well with the new weapons systems.

Know the market

Just now watching CNBC, I realized why MREs are so expensive right now... they had a story on about how disaster supply and survivalist stores are booming right now, in part because of the recent example of the Sendai quake, but more so because of the Mayan mythology about the world ending next year. There couldn't be a worse time to be shopping for that stuff.

I think I will just stock the kit with ramen and macaroni for now, then, and pick up my MREs in January 2013 when they are suddenly dirt cheap.