Home Improvements

We’re off at last! We actually had thoughts of leaving early, say the first week of June, but that just wasn’t happening.

Don't mess with a man covered in bottom paint dust!

After two years of neglect, the boat needed some attention. Many things were expected, like the deck needed a thorough washing, the brightwork (varnished wood on deck) needed multiple coats of varnish, and the bottom had to be sanded and repainted. These are yearly tasks, and pretty basic maintenance for all boats.

On top of that though, unexpected problems were found. The fuel tank leaked and had to be torn out and replaced. The cutlass bearing (this holds the drive shaft steady as it exits the hull) had to be replaced. We needed a new holding tank and all new batteries. Rick plumbed a new seawater pump in the galley, refilled the floating compass, did some rewiring of the previous owner’s electrical follies, and a whole long list of small but pithy jobs.

Then there were the unnecessary aesthetic changes that Rick insisted on doing, like totally redoing the bootstripe. The bootstripe is a strip of paint, thin or wide, sometimes even two or more colors that wrap around the boat right at the waterline, separating the above water hull from the bottom paint. Rick has always been unhappy with ours, firstly because it was crooked and didn’t accurately follow the water line as it should, and secondly because he wanted it a few inches higher to give the boat the optical illusion of a sleek, less tubby body. This turned out to be an enormous job, made even harder by Rick’s having left masking tape on the hull for a few weeks. It turns out masking tape adhesive turns somewhat stone-like if left on too long. Rick ended up having to chisel it off!

Old bootstripe

 

New bootstripe

One big improvement that we made to the boat is a brand spankin’ new bimini! A bimini is a canvas area constructed for the purpose of shading the steering wheel section of the cockpit. As a fair skinned woman, I have long lamented the lack of proper shade on our boat. “Couldn’t we have a bimini, like that boat over there?” I would ask pleadingly, while under my little umbrella. “Look at the amount of shade those people have in their cockpit!” I would exclaim, giving sidelong glances in Rick’s direction.  All to no avail. Rick loves having an open feel to our cockpit, and doesn’t like having his sightlines diminished while under sail.

This year, he finally relented, recognizing that if we spend a year in the Caribbean as we are still planning to do next year, the survival of my skin might depend on a bimini, and he himself would probably benefit from a bit of UV relief. He also thinks we might install solar panels later on, and a bimini frame would be perfect for that.

The cost of a custom-made bimini frame and canvas cover was way out of our budget, so we decided to do it ourselves. Rick came up with a design that worked for our boat, and we ordered the stuff from Sailrite – a DIY marine sail and canvas company. They sell a video that explains pretty thoroughly what to do. The only problem was that our needs and boat were not exactly what was shown in the video and we had to improvise where there were differences.

I have an arsenal of old sewing machines, so I dug out an old Singer that I had bought on Craigslist for $35, switched out a more powerful motor that I pirated from another machine, and set up the machine’s table next to our ping-pong table. Voila! An instant canvas-making studio.

OMG - I look just like my mother...

                                        

Despite being a great sewing enthusiast, I was very intimidated by the task of sewing anything involving canvas. I did a lot of studying (procrastinating), leaving the actual sewing until the last minute. In the end, I put in some very long days, trying to get the bimini done in time for us to leave. But I was so excited about the result that I went the extra mile and sewed up a “connector” piece that will shade the entire cockpit while at anchor. We now have a shaded patio with an ocean view!

All those jobs finally completed, our departure was delayed a few more days when the boat travel lift at the marina blew out a tire. 

Note the missing wheel (someone else's boat, thankfully)

         

It turns out we needed those extra days anyway, for provisioning, last minute cleaning of house and boat, packing, forgetting stuff – you know, the usual. By the time we left, we were both covered in bruises and small scratches, and sore from head to toe. The boat is now two years older… 

and it turns out, so are we.

New and improved Valkyrie

Boom and Bust!

So, campers. It’s certainly been a long time since my last post. Life got a bit complicated, and time somehow didn’t get the memo. It just kept marching along, until here we are, two years later.

In my last post, I talked about Rick’s family get-together in Maine/New Hampshire, and also about our visit with Rick’s father Dick, who had been recovering from a pretty debilitating stroke. If anyone actually follows this blog, it would seem that we dropped off the edge of the earth after that. Maybe the world is flat after all?

The story is that Rick and I made our good-byes, and headed back South towards Baltimore. We had made it as far as Chesapeake City, and were planning a leisurely few days in the Chesapeake before returning to house, jobs and responsibility, when we got a call from Barb, Rick’s sister. Dick had taken a turn for the worse and the end of his life was near. Rick needed to get back up to Maine as soon as possible, so we raced back to Baltimore in one day with the boat, and Rick flew up to Portland the next. Dick passed away a week later.

Dick had been one of my favorite people, and he had probably been my biggest fan and most avid reader of the blog. I’d had several blog posts yet to be written but still in mind when he passed, and I really did intend to write them up, but somehow – and please excuse the nautical reference – the wind had just gone out of my sails. After several months had gone by, I finally decided that I would just start it up again the next summer.

Dick and Rick, 2009

Barb and Rick talked often by phone that fall, and in the course of their conversations they hatched a plan, in part a tribute to Dick's memory, to charter a sailboat in the British Virgin Islands for the Easter break. David and Jane, who were friends of Barb and Jeff from Maine, would join us on a boat that could accommodate three couples. This was to be the trip of a lifetime; sun, surf and snorkeling in a sailing paradise!

And it Was!

 - until it wasn’t... Rick handed off the wheel to someone else, as he is prone to do, giving others a chance at captaining, and was standing in the companionway when the boat accidently started to gybe. Rick, acting on instinct, reached up to grab the lines, probably intending to prevent the boom from crossing over, or at least from crossing over quickly. Of course if he’d had a moment to think, he would have realized that this was a much bigger boat than any of the boats he had regularly sailed on. Bigger boat, bigger sail, there was obviously much more power in that accidental jibe than his arm could possibly hold. Unfortunately, he did not have more than an instant to correct his automatic response. The boom crossed to the other side of the boat in one violent motion, ripping Rick’s shoulder right out of its socket.

Rick was the only real sailor on that boat, and he was in a great deal of pain and obviously out of commission, but somehow he was able to coach the five of us in sailing craft, and with some luck, we managed to get the boat ashore. Rick spent a night in the hospital in Tortola where the excellent doctors (British health system) got his shoulder back where it was supposed to be. With his arm in a sling, Rick was able to join the rest of us on the boat where we finished out the rest of the week in a fun, but certainly more subdued manner.

Back in Baltimore, it became clear that Rick’s shoulder was much worse off than we had hoped. The MRI revealed that the incident on the boat had torn two of his rotator cuff tendons completely off of the bone, and surgery was necessary if he ever wanted to raise his right arm above his navel. The good news of course was that such a surgery was possible; the bad news was that the surgery required a recovery time of six months to a year for a successful outcome. No sailing.

Be careful what you wish for. Over the last several years I had been longing for a summer at home, relaxing in my sewing room, enjoying the farmers’ market and being near our friends. In my fantasies however, I had envisioned small outings in the boat, exploring the Chesapeake. I had not bargained for a husband in pain and with a broken wing. Considering, we had a very enjoyable summer. But we both missed the boat, which stood abandoned and ignored on the hard, and I let the blog languish as well.

More than a year after the surgery, and with Rick’s shoulder at 95%, we have finally managed to get the boat in the water, and are once again on our way up north. Yay – new adventures (and hopefully only minor catastrophes)!

Happy Ours

Portland equals family. That is what I’ve come to know over the past decade and a half. I’m really talking about Rick’s family here, but over time they have of course become mine. One way or another, all of the far-flung members of the tribe make their way to this city in Maine for a short period of time in the summer. It’s kind of like the monarch butterflies who migrate down to a tiny village in Mexico every year. We’re just as colorful, though perhaps not in the same way…

As always, there are big plans for outdoor adventures. This year we will be hiking, canoeing, and otherwise raising Cain in nearby New Hampshire. Our ranks have swollen recently with the addition of a few significant others among the younger generation, so we are a rather unwieldy crowd.

Typical Boothby hike planning, with maps on the hood of a car

Unfortunately, on these outings we are missing our most intrepid soldier. Dick, the patriarch of the Boothby clan, has been laid up in a rehabilitation facility, recovering from a stroke he suffered a couple of months ago.  Always the energetic and active senior, the loss of mobility and independence due to this stroke has been a tough pill to swallow for Dick. His perseverance during this difficult recovery period is truly an inspiration to us all. I think he enjoyed his numerous visitors, even if we rather overwhelmed the nursing staff. 

Rick and I have parked the boat on a mooring ball at the Portland Yacht Club, and plan to keep it there for a good week and a half. After family filled days, we return each night to sleep aboard, and each morning begins with a leisurely cup of tea in the cockpit. Gazing out at all of the neighboring boats, I can’t help but be amused by some of the names people have chosen for their vessels.

Puns are very big in the boating community. Of course there’s the ever-present and over-obvious play on the word “sea”: “Seafari” or “Fantasea”. Plenty of other, even worse puns abound – “Happy Ours”, “Nauti Girl”, and the ironic “Knot Too Bad” are prime examples. When Rick first bought one of his previous boats and was searching around for a name, my ex-husband, aware of Rick’s academic interest in psychoanalysis, suggested “Freudian Sloop”. Thankfully, a non-punny name was ultimately chosen.

Another theme among boaters is to poke fun at the amount of time and money that ends up being showered on these floating cash eaters. I’ve seen more than one named “Daddy’s Paycheck”.  I’ve even seen the idea stated more baldly with “Money Pit”.

One boat near us  –– “Go Dog Go!” –– is obviously owned by a fan of early readers. On the other side of the anchorage, a less imaginative owner kept it simple: “Steve”. My particular favorite is the boat named W.T.F. (What The F---?!!!) Upon closer inspection, the acronym really stands for “Waterborne Transportation Facilitator”. Doubly funny.

Before leaving Portland and heading south, we tried to get the family out on Valkyrie. Sad to say, once everyone was loaded on board and we had managed to set the sails, a terrific downpour ensued. This made for a very short sail, along with some pretty soggy Italian sandwiches. A more extensive “Seafari” will have to wait until next year.