Oh, Crap!

I don't think I've ever been as frustrated by technology as I have been these past few months. My camera died days before our wedding and after replacing a costly battery I discovered it was really the battery charger. Of course the new charger arrived after the wedding. Then my computer, which for quite some time had been whining for attention like a snotty toddler, refused to have anything to do with the new blogger updates and had a melt down. Ignoring it did no good and I finally had to take it to the doctor. It came home last night and I was finally able to download Google Chrome (but only after about 3 time sucking attempts).  

Anyway, we've been very busy here on the Knotty Cat. This includes: An on-board wedding at sea (past post but still plenty of pictures and a video to come). A neighbor got the boot, thank God (future post). Another (yet very unsuccessful) trip (unsuccessful because of aforesaid neighbor) up the mast for me (future post). New house bank batteries have been installed (costly, too boring, no future post), but at least when we escape for a weekend and get to anchor in the bay, we don't have to pray that our anchor light lasts the night.

And then there's our issue with the head. And for all of you who know anything about boats, depending on what kind of a person you are, you're either cringing or laughing (and if you're laughing, you're no longer my friend). It all started when I was attempting to flush our 'toilet' and the handle stopped moving. Wham. Dead in my hands. "Hmmmm," I thought, "this is strange." After a few frantic emails to Raritan (toilet people. And I laughed when we were asked if we had an exploded view of our head. Let me tell you, I now know exactly what an exploded head looks like. And I stopped laughing) and a few feeble attempts on our part to unfreeze the handle, it all came down to 'you probably have a blockage in your exhaust hose', and we saw the writing on the wall. Although after my efforts all I really saw was a lot of 'crap' on the wall (and the shower stall, engine room, screw driver, wrench, power drill, socket set, the towels I forgot to move, the shower curtain, and me). By nature I'm a very stubborn person, but why I decided to become stubborn about unclogging our head is just beyond me. But I did. Go to work I told Hans. I'll take care of it I told Hans. This was on a Monday. And by Thursday I was thinking about writing a book entitled, "Muriatic Acid is my new best friend and why you too can lose 10 pounds in 4 days by using it". This is because after reading far too many forums on the pros and cons about this cheap yet deadly fluid, this much I know; when you fear that you'll be blown to kingdom com any minute, your heart races, your metabolism kicks in, you run like a maniac when your hoses foam like a rabid dog, and that apple strudel you ate for breakfast will be burned up in no time.  Just keep in mind that you'll also be wading in soupy poo that oozes from the hose that was connected to your head. And you'll be happy because that means the acid must be doing its job. You'll also be pleased to know you can scare the heck out of the marina maintenance man when after knocking on your boat you emerge into the cockpit wearing safety goggles, face mask, and rubber gloves.  Zach just shook his head and said he didn't want to know what the heck that stuff was was all over my shirt but I'm pretty sure by the way he wrinkled his nose he realizes we aren't cooking meth on board.

But I still wasn't done. Two days into the job I was beyond excited when I finally broke through the crunchy blockage and saw my snake emerge at the other end of the hose. That excitement was short lived however when it immediately closed up with what was no doubt a mass of more shifting sh*t. I then spent the rest of the day fending off the snake (I finally attached it to our power drill) which whipped about in a very menacing fashion, covering everything within its range with crap every time it came upon a stoppage.
By Friday I admitted defeat and on Saturday we replaced the hose. It had to be fished through the wall behind the shower but I attached an old plastic sewing tape measure to the old hose (which I also plugged up  so that the continuing ooze wouldn't spill out) and it helped us guide the new hose into place.

I took these pictures before the sh*t hit the fan. I have better ones (if you want to call them that) but they're pretty gross so I'll just post these.


A parting picture of our little man.  Here is Wilbur modeling the collar that Miss M and Mr. B from Two Pitties in the City sent him. It sports a nautical theme and came complete with a bow tie. It's from Silly Buddy (an etsy shop) and it's a very well made collar. Wilbur wore it for our wedding and he hasn't taken it off yet.

Wilbur has a crush on the Divine Miss M but he realizes she's already taken so he just dreams about her instead.