We are on the final push.  Only five more working days to go before we leave for the Wedding Cruise for the youngest son.  We want to have the boat pretty much ready to go by then, so that when we come back we can immediately leave for warmer climes. 

As we are going to be living "on the hook" (anchor), a pretty important accoutrement to a cruising boat is the dinghy.  It's basically the family car.  You get your groceries, go to the post office, etc. in this thing.  Regular readers of this blog know that I have two dinghys and two engines, and have been rooting for the two stroke Mercury (lighter, has a built in fuel tank that I can use as a reserve, more bottom end torque) over the four stroke Tohatsu (better fuel economy and easier for Carol to start). The problem is that, for some reason, the Merc will not run for more than ten minutes before it mysteriously dies.  Not to be outdone, I finally did the fine tuning adjustments to the carburetor and started her up.

OK, I'm done.  While I'm willing to take some problems on the road with me, this is not one of them.  Mount up the Japanese iron.

It runs, too.  And for more than thirty minutes.  As a final test, I took it to Paradise Cove for a beer.  Carol took the car, and met me over there.  It was flawless, and the Mercury was defeated.  I am now going to sell this demonic engine (with full disclosure) to someone who loves it even more than me.

Turn the page.

The final stage in our "sole" project is reinforcing the weak wood that is not bad enough (I mean, too much trouble to) actually replace.  This involves drilling holes partially through the floor and injecting an epoxy into the substrate, where it will wick it's way into the soft spots and make them hard again.  The down side of this is that you cannot step on the repair, as there is a 24 hour cure time.  So, I made Carol some "stepping stones".  Just like in her garden.

Today saw the installation (finally!) of the monitoring system for the holding tank.  This will end the guessing game of when we need to pump out the tank where the used drinks and meals go.  I am much relieved, as a wrong call here could lead to a blown hose, resulting in all that stuff draining underneath our bed and winding up in the bilge below the dining table, sure to disrupt dinner (or worse, breakfast).

It was a fairly straightforward install once all of the parts arrived.  Drill a hole in the top of the tank, insert the sensor, saw a hole in the wall of the head, mount the control panel, wire A into B and B into the ship's power supply.  It only took three trips into Oriental for supplies.

We pumped the tank out before we started, and the sensor tells me it's empty when I hit the "read" button, so I assume it is working correctly.  It seemed to be when I did a bench test before I started installation.

This was one of the final projects I wanted to make sure I finished before we left, while we still have access to transportation.

I spared you the pictures.

Turn the page...

The past weekend we spent with our good friends Rob and Tammy at North Myrtle Beach.  We were joined by Earl and Linda (Linda, as it turns out, is a take no prisoners Monopoly player).  A good time was had by all...sure do miss those guys.  We'll see them along the way.

Rain here for the next three days.  Will try to get inside projects done.  Maybe we can get in some canvas time before we have to leave for the wedding cruise.

Sea Bird is coming together.

Still working on my sole.

Today we made stellar progress.

I mixed up a little epoxy to act as a filler for the small piece of floor in the navigation station that had succumbed to a leak, causing water to puddle.  The leak had been dealt with by the previous owner, the aftermath had not.

Pretty decent job of matching pattern, if I do say so myself.  The blue masking tape is to mark the location of the plugs used to cover the screws holding things down.  It will also offer some protection for the existing finish tomorrow after the glue has dried and I break out the saw to cut them flush.  Then they have to be sanded, and a coat of Spar Urethane applied for waterproofing and appearances sake.  Not that I would let any water in my boat.  I'm just saying.

There are a few of them.  Forty three to be exact.  (But who's counting?)  Each of them must be dealt with individually, sort of like children.  It does make for an interesting walk around the boat while barefooted.  One of these in your heel will make you take notice.  I dread my walk to the coffeepot in the morning.  Maybe I can keep it in the runway.

Here are the rest.  a little trim work around the drop board and hopefully we will be ready for Spar Urethane tomorrow.

So things are starting to come together. 

I got a call from the manufacturer about the holding tank monitor, it should be in Friday.  I have the sensor already and he is shipping a jumper for me to install on the monitor so it will work with the sensor.

The replacement water filter cartridge arrived today. I am installing a valve so it can be replaced in the future without shutting down the entire fresh water system.  That project may be completed tomorrow. 

The dinghy motor project has still to be done, but I think I have a handle on it.  And if I can't fix the Mercury, I'll fall back to the Tohatsu instead.

The steering compass is being rebuilt and should arrive in about two weeks.

I still have to figure out the wiring to the anchor light and foredeck lights.  When you turn either on, they both come on.  The previous owner may have installed a jumper as a safety in case the anchor light burned out, but the foredeck light makes the forward stateroom too bright.  And together, they pull a lot of battery power.  And the foredeck light interferes with my stargazing at anchor.

I need to verify the depth markings on our anchor chain rode and inspect it for condition, and verify it has a length of nylon at the bitter end so I can cut it loose in an emergency.  I also need to look into a storm anchor.

That about completes my list of "must be done before we leave".  Maybe, just maybe, we can squeeze in some sailing time, as there has been very little of that.  We still have a couple of weeks, even after the diversion this weekend with long time friends in Myrtle Beach. 

I could use the break.

Progress, these days, is defined by getting anything done.  Even if it is parts of two different projects.  Everything takes longer and requires twice the effort.

I'm beginning to look back a little fondly on my recent days in retail, resetting steel racks.  Twice and thrice, because the plan changed five times.  (I usually waited two of the revisions out.)

The sole project is coming along.  I had allotted two days.  This is my third day, and I will be lucky to finish in the next two

Attaching cleats on the subfloor.  No, I am not drilling into my leg.  Or anything else important.

Some trim pieces still left to install, and the forward stateroom is ready for varnish.  No more stepping into the unknown in the middle of the night.

Ditto for the mast trim.  The piece to the right will be reglued, the final repair left for another time, maybe when I am at anchor in the islands somewhere, and I am totally bored with the perfect weather, perfect beaches, and perfect fishing.  (Right)

I am also reattaching and regluing the cleats that support the drop boards over the bilge.  They have loosened over the last thirty years, causing the boards to work and pop underfoot.  Not critical, but it will only get worse if ignored, and now is the time as we are about to get the varnish out anyway.  It's time consuming, for two reasons.  The plugs have to be drilled out to get to the screws holding them in place, which usually break while trying to extract them.  Then they have to be drilled out.

BUT FIRST (see the little white part under the grid?) I had to replace a water valve for the port fresh water tank when I just TOUCHED it and it started leaking.  This took three trips into Oriental to accomplish.

Oh, and I bled on Carol's new cushions, which annoyed her no end.  She did forgive me, as blood was shed while reworking the floors, which have annoyed her even more.

For the cleats, I am using machine screws, through drilled, with fender washers and lock nuts along with glue to reinstall them.  I do believe in the "belt AND suspenders" theory.

When I just could not spend any more time on my knees, I revisited an old nemesis.

You know.

After replacing the coil, I took her out again.  She ran pretty well, but still not enough power.  While adjusting the newly rebuilt carburetor, a light started showing through the fog.

A little fine tuning of the choke showed a much improved performance.  While this is not the permanent fix, it does tell me that the main jet is still slightly clogged, and probably just needs some more attention.

I am, cautiously, optimistic, while trying to explain what a main jet is to Carol.

And, while the day has been  long and hard, at the end of it, I'm NOT doing a retail store close.

The other day, I looked at our calendar.  It's starting to get a little full.  And we still have a few projects left before we check out of Point Marina in October for the trip south.

I'm not saying I'm worried, but I might be a little under the gun.  This is sort of a semi-hard deadline.  The first one we have really had to deal with and can't put off.  I guess we could, but one of the big reasons we are doing this is to avoid cold weather.  And October can have some cold days.

We can't really leave before then, as we are scheduled to attend a wedding for the youngest son.  On a cruise ship.  So we have to drive to New York, sail past my boat to Nassau, sail past my boat again to New York, and drive back to North Carolina, where we are then planning an early Thanksgiving with the family as we are not going to be there for the real event.  All well and good and fun, but that will take up most of the first half of October, so we pretty much need to leave when we return.

That doesn't sound too bad, but then I realized that it means the boat has to be ready before we leave.  And it's the middle of September.

OK.  Time to get to work.

The other day I spent working on the Mercury for the dinghy.  Replaced the impeller for the water pump (maybe overheating is the problem), rebuilt the carburetor (maybe trash or a bad fuel pump is the problem), and ran it around for about twenty minutes.

Came right up on plane...

...and ran like a scared rabbit...

...but you, dear reader, know where this is going, don't you?

At least this time I could get it to idle me home.  No need to break out the paddles.  My next theory is that the ignition coil breaks down when the engine heats up, causing a weak spark that shuts down the engine.  Parts are ordered and will be in tomorrow.

Another "do before we leave" project is the holding tank sensor.  Also waiting for parts there, should ship tomorrow for arrival early next week.
I'm not looking forward to that one.  It involves drilling into the septic system, but, it must be done.  And Carol won't do it.  I've asked.

Still another project is the sole in the forward stateroom.  No "fillet of" involved here, "sole" in a boat is the floor.  Ours is soft.  We have known this since we bought the boat, as there was, at one time, a bit of water in the boat (it's a boat, right?) and the ply floor had started to delaminate.  The process has accelerated since the boat is seeing daily use (we do, after all, live on board), so we decided to replace it.  We went today to Deaton's boatyard and purchased a replacement piece of teak and holly veneer and will go tomorrow to purchase a piece of substrate to reinforce it.  Today we tore the old floor out.

This is where I get out of bed.  In the middle of the night, half asleep to go to the bathroom.  There is a transducer for the knot meter, a water hose to the forward fresh water tank, and an emergency wooden plug underfoot, as well as a rib and a couple of stringers.  Hopefully I will live through the night.

We also got (most of) the last port replaced.

Oh, I forgot to mention, we are also meeting some good friends the weekend after next in Myrtle Beach for a celebration of some sort.  I'm a little fuzzy as to the occasion, but will make up almost any excuse to spend time with these people.  Looking forward to it.

...so we went to the beach.  'Cause if you're going to be hot, be hot at the beach.  Right?

We're going tomorrow, too.

There are several things to catch up on.

First of all, we installed all but one of the new ports.  You may remember I replaced a couple that were leaking and bought enough to replace the rest, as apparently a port should not only be watertight (which is my only criteria for a sound port) but also match the rest (which is the Admiral's criteria, and therefore overrules the Captain).  We managed to install four in one day, the day after Carol had decided it was cleaning day.

This was Carol's solution to catching the scrap sealant and sanding dust that was produced during the removal of the port in the head.  I protested the indignity of using my Tommy Condon shirt in such a manner, but was, again, overruled by the Admiral.

Then we were treated with guests.  Our daughter Heather and her boyfriend Michael came for a three day visit during Labor Day.

They are fisherman extraordinaire.  Here they are at the dock.  I'm waiting on my dinner to be plucked from the sea.  Alas, it was not to be.

The next day, after introducing them to our guests, we said farewell to Vadim and Katerina, our dock mates from Russia.  They are moving their boat into Oriental to have better access to chandleries for supplies to prepare their boat for sea.  We liked having them here, but it is a long way to Oriental via bicycle, and this will work much better for them.

Fair winds, my friends.

Then we went to the beach.  Turnagain Bay is right across the river and as we had never been, and the Neuse was flat calm, we motored the few miles across.

Once anchored, I ferried everyone and everything to the beach via dinghy, courtesy of the newly repaired Tohatsu four stroke, which performed flawlessly, if more slowly than the two stroke Mercury (that keeps stranding me). 

While everyone else fished, I enjoyed the view of Sea Bird at anchor.  This is a view of the Captain's anchoring spot.

As a seafood dinner once again eluded us, we returned to the dock and to Oriental, there to feast at M&M's, where someone else had better luck coaxing dinner from the sea.

The next day, we drove to Atlantic Beach, near Morehead City.  Savvy readers will remember that we anchored near there during our trip to Cape Lookout.  This time, we drove over the bridge I took pictures of while at anchor.  Pretty cool.  Once we were at the beach, the fishing began again in earnest.

But no joy.

Back to the boat to grill chicken, purchased for just such an anomaly.  The next day, our guests left.  We very much enjoyed their visit. A good time was had by all.

The day after, I revisited my old friend, the Mercury. I really am pulling for this engine to be our permanent dinghy choice.  After cleaning out the carburetor and replacing the spark plug, I left the dock on plane, to windward, (just in case) but with high hopes.

My hopes were dashed.

I really am getting way too good at rowing this thing.

Just like Dorothy when she finally reaches the Emerald City. . . All in the Land of Goodness and Light was not as it seemed.  And just like the noteworthy last words of her nemesis, the notorious Wicked Witch of the West, “I’m melting” are the very same words I seem to utter these days.

I’m no wimp.

But the temperature climbs most days in Oriental to somewhere just north of scorching, with a side of humidity that is outta sight.  So . . . when it comes time to do double duty and gopher for one of Monty’s projects (for which I’m extraordinarily slow to perform), “I’m melting” becomes my only defense.  Captain Monty seems to be immune to the temp, but not me, no, not me.  And we won’t mention the mosquitos.  Hungry little suckers.  They bypass Monty and make a beeline directly to me.  

Now most folks around here take it in stride. They perspire, they wipe, they swat and they keep on at whatever task they are doing.  Doesn’t seem to impede their progress too much. It's all taken a little getting used to but I'm slowly acclimating into the culture.

For me, the nights are the worst.  Now, that’s not to say that sleep is not an elusive partner in the best of times.  Add to that a bit of insomnia, 90 plus degree temps, a foam mattress and no breeze (other than a fan that sounds like a jet engine about to take off) and you have a restless, jaw clenching, Wicked Witch Melting kinda night.   Oh, and lest I forget, during the deep dark night, the occasional buzz by from a no seeum!

Oh yeah!  Life is good!

 

There was no pop top involved.

I did, however, cut my heel.  It took me three steps across the parking lot, wondering what the hell was happening.  Did someone drug me?  I felt around for the tranquilizer dart.

No.  The little piece that connects the top to the bottom and goes between your big toe and second toe had severed, leading me to drag the front of the flop underfoot for the three steps it took to bring me and the assorted beach accoutrement in my arms to a stop.

I have written about flip flops before.  It's been a serious love/hate relationship so far.  This latest incident was definitely leaning things toward the hate side.

Fortunately, we were still at the boat, and I had my shower flops.  Although they are probably of the worst quality of anything to come out of China since they started producing flops, it was Hobson's choice, and I wore them to the beach the next day.

This experience got me thinking about flops again.  I came to the realization that, although a genuine pain, on the boat they seem to work.  While at the beach I actually walked up to the store and looked at a couple of flops.  One was ten bucks and one was twenty five.  Ten seemed a little high to me.  No way was I paying twenty five.  For flops?  Are these people crazy?

So, I put it off until company left, and then Carol and I went shopping.  The first place had nothing in my size.  The second place was having a sale.

The first thing Carol noticed was some "reef shoes", basically waterproof loafers, for eight bucks.  A good deal, so we picked them up.  Then we went to the flops.  "Try these on," said Carol.

Wow.  They felt terrific.  A quantum leap over what I had been wearing.  "I like these," I said.  "How much are they?"

"They're on sale."

I immediately became suspicious.  "How much are they?"

"Fifty dollars."

"Holy cow!  No way I'm paying that for flops.  How much were they?"

"Seventy five."

Unbelievable. I might pay that for work shoes, in fact, I used to pay a hundred dollars for a good pair of work shoes.  But I spent all day in them, working.

Oh.  Wait.

I spend all day, these days, in flops.  Working.

I've had my OluKai flops for two days now, working in them.  And I have to admit, good flops make all the difference.