Poor Debby. She's one of those annoying guests who is totally oblivious to the all too broad hints aimed in her direction that she just isn't welcome here anymore yet continues to hang around.
After taking Hans to work today I arrived home totally primed to take care of soggy boat business and found myself treading water both physically and metaphorically.
Thanks to all the wet towels and clothing left over from the weekend I had four loads of laundry as opposed to my usual two. But I do consider us lucky in that while during the incredible amount of rainfall we endured, we only had to live with a frustrated and slightly constipated pit bull, and didn't have to put out numerous drip pans to catch those pesky (yet all too well known) leaks coming from only God knows where like so many of our friends did.
I was well aware that high tide was due to arrive at 6 PM tonight so I didn't worry too much about getting off and on the boat during the day in order to take care of all our chores. I'd already unloaded our groceries, made a couple of treks to the laundry area, filled our water tanks, pulled up the carpet in our berth and settled it to dry at the bow (where it tried to blow away all day), hosed and scrubbed down our heads, emptied Hans' underwear drawer so that it could dry out (and we still have no idea what the hell happened there), when I realized I should probably check our dock box which is normally way above water level but unfortunately about a third of it had been submerged in salt water thanks to Debby.
I almost wish I hadn't because what I found in there was Hans' hockey gear. Hans' gross, disgusting, stinky, and very wet hockey gear. Heaving a huge sigh I spread his skates, pads, and gloves out on the sidewalk to dry and added his jerseys and socks to my laundry mess.
I then went down below to finish scrubbing the galley and salon areas. At one point I realized that a couple of vehicles driving past our boat had slowed down considerably but it didn't make a huge impression on me as we're used to feeling like animals in a zoo when people drive by and gawk at us (I've threatened to scratch myself and act like I'm eating fleas but so far Hans has vetoed this bit of fun).
I was just a bit frazzled when I realized that I was very shortly due to pick Hans up from work, I'd yet to have a shower, and poor old Wilbur never did get to go to the doggy park. Then I poked my head outside and nearly cried for all of Hans' hockey gear that I'd lovingly (?) placed on the sidewalk was now happily floating and sloshing about in a very merry fashion.
Thus the gawkers.
I nearly choked and I'm pretty sure I screamed.
I gathered everything up, deposited it in a picnic area, didn't give a damn whether anyone stole it or not, and went to pick up Hans.
On the way home we made a pit stop at West Marine for more dock lines.
You can see we no longer have a dock but we do have steps.
Our grill cover (that inverted white mass on the post) is drying out way down below the grill itself. Normally the grill is lower than where the cover is.
Seriously.
During these extreme high tides we get on and off the boat at the stern where the swim ladder is.
When the tide is normal the swim ladder is about 4 feet below the sidewalk and we step onto the beam from our dock.
I dragged Hans hockey equipment over to the picnic area to dry out after I found it floating by our dock box.
Actually, one of his gloves took off and waved itself all the way down the marina where our dock master rescued it and brought it back to its friends.
What an adventure.
I really want you to get a good look at this picture.
Our boat is in the lower left corner with our swim ladder sitting upright.
Our dock box is to the right.
During high tide we get on and off the stern at this point.
On our way home tonight, I drove and Hans critiqued (since his January car accident we've both become horrible back seat drivers).
I was tired and cranky and got on board first and Hans handed me our supplies very carefully and one item at a time.
Then it was Hans' turn to get on board.
I only wish I'd had my camera in hand when Hans (after telling me how to get on board) stepped forward (with his big size 13 sandals) onto the swim ladder area and tripped over a stern line. Down he went and I actually thought he was going to disappear from sight. But only one leg actually went all the way down between the boat and the wall before his butt landed on the sidewalk and he then rolled around like a Weeble (or a turtle on its back) before finally righting himself.
Just before dinner Hans thanked me for not laughing at him and I thanked him for the floor show.
That big pest Debby will probably find a way to take credit for the entertainment.
After taking Hans to work today I arrived home totally primed to take care of soggy boat business and found myself treading water both physically and metaphorically.
Thanks to all the wet towels and clothing left over from the weekend I had four loads of laundry as opposed to my usual two. But I do consider us lucky in that while during the incredible amount of rainfall we endured, we only had to live with a frustrated and slightly constipated pit bull, and didn't have to put out numerous drip pans to catch those pesky (yet all too well known) leaks coming from only God knows where like so many of our friends did.
I was well aware that high tide was due to arrive at 6 PM tonight so I didn't worry too much about getting off and on the boat during the day in order to take care of all our chores. I'd already unloaded our groceries, made a couple of treks to the laundry area, filled our water tanks, pulled up the carpet in our berth and settled it to dry at the bow (where it tried to blow away all day), hosed and scrubbed down our heads, emptied Hans' underwear drawer so that it could dry out (and we still have no idea what the hell happened there), when I realized I should probably check our dock box which is normally way above water level but unfortunately about a third of it had been submerged in salt water thanks to Debby.
I almost wish I hadn't because what I found in there was Hans' hockey gear. Hans' gross, disgusting, stinky, and very wet hockey gear. Heaving a huge sigh I spread his skates, pads, and gloves out on the sidewalk to dry and added his jerseys and socks to my laundry mess.
I then went down below to finish scrubbing the galley and salon areas. At one point I realized that a couple of vehicles driving past our boat had slowed down considerably but it didn't make a huge impression on me as we're used to feeling like animals in a zoo when people drive by and gawk at us (I've threatened to scratch myself and act like I'm eating fleas but so far Hans has vetoed this bit of fun).
I was just a bit frazzled when I realized that I was very shortly due to pick Hans up from work, I'd yet to have a shower, and poor old Wilbur never did get to go to the doggy park. Then I poked my head outside and nearly cried for all of Hans' hockey gear that I'd lovingly (?) placed on the sidewalk was now happily floating and sloshing about in a very merry fashion.
Thus the gawkers.
I nearly choked and I'm pretty sure I screamed.
I gathered everything up, deposited it in a picnic area, didn't give a damn whether anyone stole it or not, and went to pick up Hans.
On the way home we made a pit stop at West Marine for more dock lines.
 |
| Check out Wilbur's manly pose in the cockpit! |
You can see we no longer have a dock but we do have steps.
Our grill cover (that inverted white mass on the post) is drying out way down below the grill itself. Normally the grill is lower than where the cover is.
Seriously.
During these extreme high tides we get on and off the boat at the stern where the swim ladder is.
When the tide is normal the swim ladder is about 4 feet below the sidewalk and we step onto the beam from our dock.
I dragged Hans hockey equipment over to the picnic area to dry out after I found it floating by our dock box.
Actually, one of his gloves took off and waved itself all the way down the marina where our dock master rescued it and brought it back to its friends.
What an adventure.
I really want you to get a good look at this picture.
Our boat is in the lower left corner with our swim ladder sitting upright.
Our dock box is to the right.
During high tide we get on and off the stern at this point.
On our way home tonight, I drove and Hans critiqued (since his January car accident we've both become horrible back seat drivers).
I was tired and cranky and got on board first and Hans handed me our supplies very carefully and one item at a time.
Then it was Hans' turn to get on board.
I only wish I'd had my camera in hand when Hans (after telling me how to get on board) stepped forward (with his big size 13 sandals) onto the swim ladder area and tripped over a stern line. Down he went and I actually thought he was going to disappear from sight. But only one leg actually went all the way down between the boat and the wall before his butt landed on the sidewalk and he then rolled around like a Weeble (or a turtle on its back) before finally righting himself.
Just before dinner Hans thanked me for not laughing at him and I thanked him for the floor show.
That big pest Debby will probably find a way to take credit for the entertainment.
Wow, Debby is sure a pain in the butt! It doesn't sound like she's leaving soon enough! Glad ya'll are doing okay though ... and that Hans didn't break anything during that fall!
ReplyDeleteHoping you get some sunshine soon!