Home. Again

 

Very pretty. But cold

It seems like we'd barely unpacked our bags in Hooterville this past spring where the grass never stopped growing when all of a sudden it was January 1st and time to repack and head back to the boat.

Just like that, nine months of hard work was over.

Speaking of hard work, December didn't disappoint as we were busier than hell and my Pacer App logged in several 10 mile waitressing days. Dear Friend and I were beyond counting down the days, we were now counting down the hours, and yes, finally the minutes to when the inn would shut its doors for the season.

Again, very pretty. But cold.

I crawled through the door of our little farmhouse after my very last shift, took a shower, put on my pjs and fluffy robe, and collapsed into my camp chair. Everything from my arches, heels, and ankles, to my back ached, and while I've never taken a Xanex or Valium in my life I believe I now know what it must feel like. Knowing there would be no more emergency summons (Oh my god! Get your uniform on, we need to go in early!), I let the stress of the last month drip off me and I felt like a strand of overdone spaghetti while I dozed in front of our space heater and TV while snowflakes drifted outside our windows.

This occurred at noon and I pretty much stayed comotose until collapsing in bed and sleeping soundly til the next day.

 

But, it was time to get back to our boat. Our home.

I tearfully hugged Dear Friend goodbye and we departed on a 17 degree(F) morning and crossed the state in order to visit the cutest baby in the world (our granddaughter!). Andi greeted me with one of those huge smiles only a three month old can pull off wherein her whole body contorted and we all got a wonderful view of her toothless gums. She then demonstrated to Papa Hans just exactly how far she can stick out her tiny lower lip before letting loose a banshee wail.

On a different note I have to say I'm extremely pleased to find my son is an excellent cook and not one of his dishes contained Skittles.

Our next trek was further south where we spent a couple of couch-potato filled days with our youngest daughter and her girlfriend. Baby Girl has a knack for picking out great movies to watch and we finally got to see 'The Martian'. And also on a different note, I'm extremely pleased to note Baby Girl is an excellent cook and even though I love Chinese takeout, it was not on the menu this time.

 

We once again piled into our car (man it was still cold outside!) and this time we aimed straight south. At each rest-stop we would shed a layer of clothing and all of a sudden we were in Florida. Well, not really 'all of a sudden' as we had to fight our way through some of the craziest traffic and insane drivers I've ever encountered.

Are we there yet?

We (mostly I) were vastly relieved to find the Knotty Cat in excellent form (ie; cockroach free) and she was launched with little fanfare. A lot of drama on my part was avoided when we were informed that we could spend the night on the wall and not have to leave within an hour of launching. This allowed me time to scrub the topsides (three hours alone on this project), do a quick provisioning run (bread, lunchmeat, COFFEE, etc...), drain and fill our water tanks, make up our berth, put away all our junk (how does one stuff so much stuff into a Corolla is beyond me) and try to talk Wilbur into using a potty patch again. Gone are his long days of 'boys only' walks with Hans in the countryside.

After working on the outside all day long there's no sitting down until all this crap finds a home!

We left early the next morning, got through a lock and arrived at our home for now.

I fear progress took a giant leap forward while we were on the farm and has quickly surpassed us. Since the water fountain at a rest-stop was frozen, I asked Hans to get me a bottle of water and just as I was ready to send out a search and rescue team he arrived back at the car in a foul mood. It would appear the vending machine not only didn't take quarters, it didn't state just how much said water would cost. "Oh, I know how many calories everything there has, like I give a shit!" He huffed. "But I have no idea what the hell I just spent on this damned water!" He was livid. "For all I know some asshole is using my credit card now!"

I had to laugh and brought up the movie The Martian. "You know, Matt Damon might have been able to get off Mars with all his MacGyverish methods but after being up there a couple of years I bet he wouldn't be able to figure out these vending machines either."

I was hoping there hadn't been too much progress on the waterways while we were gone but then we jumped onto our Active Captain App. Let's just say I'm glad we have a couple of months to figure things out again.

 

Very pretty. And warm.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Getting the Cold Shoulder

When we left Pennsylvania a few years ago and headed south I couldn't wait to be shut of 50 plus years of dreary winters. However, we ended up moving too far south and found ourselves in the tropics of Florida where the weather there consists of nine months of ankle sweating and a mere three months of being able to venture outside without melting. Just one extreme to another.

When we arrived back here in Hooterville I quickly realized how much I'd missed the changing seasons along with the beautiful topography. Where Florida is flat and mainly consists of but one kind of tree along with endless strip malls, Pennsylvania has mountains, valleys, and trees galore. This fall when we were out for one of our Sunday drives in the country, we crested a hill and the view of the valley below us consisted of a small country church, a farm with horses and cows wandering the pastures, and again, all those trees. I've always wanted to visit Vermont but after our year here, I no longer feel the need.

The only drawback to our beautiful spring and summer was the fact that we never did get Dear Friend's lawnmower working and the grass and weeds quickly grew to epic heights. Eventually a friend of Dear Friend's came over with a brush hog and we no longer feared losing Wilbur in the jungle while Hans played with his fire pit. In the mornings while we sat at our little kitchen table we were entertained by an abundance of insect life outside our window that were drawn to the flowering weeds close to the house that the brush hog couldn't reach. Actually, without all the lawn manicuring we've become used to in our previous lives, we both kind of like a more natural setting. Mother Nature does a pretty good job on her own and I know the bees love it.

Fire pit fun. Look at that grass.

Our Sunday drives continued into the fall and we experienced the vibrant colors of the trees and we didn't have to spent big bucks on a B&B to enjoy them, we just opened our curtains every morning. But fall never does last long enough and boom! winter was upon us.

I've used this one before but I love it.

Something we noticed this summer and very much enjoyed was the fact that our house is cool. Not groovy cool, mind you, but cool, temperature wise. Now that winter is here it's not so cool to be cool! In order to conserve heat, we've strung a blanket across the door from the living room (where in addition to living, we sleep) to the kitchen and with the electric baseboard heat on and a space heater plugged in, we're pretty comfortable.

In the living room.

For awhile we called the kitchen our walk-in refrigerator (it's actually colder than our fridge) but, when the temperatures dropped to single digits, we called it our 'sub-zero', and it's quite safe to leave food out without fear of getting sick. You can see your breath in there and the walk to the bathroom (where we thankfully have another space heater) is quite brisk.

Come winter, a twenty foot praying mantis could be lurking beyond that frozen window and we'd never see it.

I mentioned in my last post that due to a polar vortex we spent a weekend at the inn. Since Dear Friend advised us to leave a space heater on in the cellar to prevent frozen pipes, we took our passports and Wilbur's health records with us. We were relieved upon returning home to find the house hadn't burned down in our absence and we went back to our regular routine. The next morning after switching on the coffee pot and turning on the space heater in the bathroom, I was in the middle of washing my face when the power went out. We finally found the right breaker switch in the cellar, and now know that you either freeze your fanny in the bathroom if you want coffee right away, or you pee in comfort with the heater on and wait for that coffee.

The other day Hans noticed my soaping thermometer sitting on a shelf in the kitchen and wondered if the 40 degrees it showed was accurate and if it could register lower temps.

The mystery has been solved.

So, when people ask me if I miss the palm trees and beaches of Florida? My answer? Suprisingly, no, I really don't.

I've never claimed to be normal.

 

Wilbur's ready.

 

Posted with Blogsy

An Eventful Week.

I find it strange that shortly after posting about things one doesn't want to hear or say while on a boat, we soon thereafter experienced a middle of the night equipment failure, and a couple of days later I certainly didn't expect to hear the horrible cries for help from one of our fellow liveaboards who fell into the water while getting on his boat after a grocery run.

During the summer when someone falls into the water here at the marina it's usually a comical experience. But when it happens at night, in the winter when water temps are much colder, it's not so funny.  

And our friend, who was maybe in the water for five minutes is still in the hospital.

I remember reading somewhere that more people on boats die while at dock than they do at sea, and I don't have any doubt that that's true.  

Very peaceful and calm during a hot summer day.

I will never forget the night Hans went into the drink and it will forever haunt  me that I could have lost him in such a simple and stupid way. Don't think I've ever let him forget this.

I, for one, would hope this is the last post I write about things I prefer not to say or hear while on a boat.

But since I live on a boat, I think I know better.

Perhaps we deserve this.

Now that's some cold beer!

I'm talking about the current weather situation here in good ol' sunny Florida.

You see, when we first announced to family and friends that we were moving to Florida, we received a lot of not so encouraging remarks about what we might expect to find here. And once we did arrive I did nothing but bitch about the insufferable heat. Fall finally showed up along with cooler weather and we became a bit smug. Every night after work, Hans would get online and announce the temperatures from back home and we'd laugh and laugh. "Oh boy," we'd say, "Twenty degrees and snow!" "You know it's gotta be gray there all day long!" "By the way, did I tell you I rode my bike to the library today?" "Are we heading out into the bay this weekend because I'm not sure if we have enough sunscreen?"
Shame on me. I should have known better.

It's like when I warned Wilbur that he should remain humble and not brag to his friends at the doggy park about his recent a mani-pedi (that's how he refers to his nail clipping trips to Petco), and he ended up getting his butt kicked by a poodle.

Don't lord what you have over others because in the end it will come back to bite you in the butt big time!

We woke up a couple of nights ago to a howling wind, loose halyards (not ours!) slapping at their masts with a nerve wracking rhythm , and feeling ourselves being jerked from side to side in our slip. We arose the next morning to cold air and no hot water. Normally we only need to turn on our hot water tank once a day and our water will actually stay hot all night long. But when the weather gets cold so does the water in the tank. Sadly, we can't use our space heater and hot water tank at the same time as they draw too many amps.

This has made my lazy life a tiny bit complicated and I threw in the towel today and took my shower in the bath house since it was too cold to even think of taking one on the boat. I couldn't decide on whether I wanted warm air and cold water... or warm water and cold air.

Far too confusing for me.

Poor Wilbur has truly become a hot house flower and this morning after Hans left for work, instead of lying down on his Steeler's pillow, Wilbur raked one of his big pitty paws down my side as I sat next to him on the settee. What the...? He did it again. I felt like Lassie was pawing at me in order to let me know that poor dumb Timmy had fallen down a well yet once again. Then I realized the big stinker wanted under my blanket. But I have to tell you I'd already draped a fleece blanket over him but was this enough for our Little Man? No! He crawled onto my lap and nudged his head under my blanket, heaved a deep pitty sigh, and went back to sleep.

Where's Wilbur?

I can't imagine what he'd do if he had to go out in the snow to do his business, as it is he doesn't even like to leave our warm cabin and take a few steps to his very convenient potty patch located on our stern!




"You want me to go out there? No thanks, I can hold it!"

By the way, if you like getting attention everywhere you go, from the dog park to the grocery store, wear your Penn State sweatshirt. Yes folks, when I purged my wardrobe for our trip south I donated every stinking sweatshirt minus one!

I may not leave the boat until spring.

I Only Wish That I Made These Things Up!

I didn't have my camera with me today when the Rescue Squad, Fire Chief, Fire Truck, and paramedics showed up to take care of Hans.


I didn't take pictures of the blood all over our spring line, cockpit cushions, and helm pod cover.

And I think I'm kind of glad I didn't as I really don't want any visual reminders of what I consider to be one of the worst days of my life.


At the end of the day Hans received just 7 stitches in the palm of his left hand, has a very bruised and swollen knee, but he's alive and that's all that really matters.


Before I go any further though, I have to tell you the Rescue Squad was purely overkill (as was the stretcher they rolled up to us) and we were shocked and embarrassed (although Wilbur was thrilled) when they all showed up this morning after Hans informed a marina employee that he might need some stitches in his hand.


And to think that yesterday started out as a very uneventful day at sea.


Once again good old NOAA was completely wrong and the 15 knots of north wind that he promised were really 10-15 knots of south wind. I will never quite understand how these forecasts can be so wrong. The ocean was as smooth as glass so I went ahead and took advantage of this situation and made a pan of chocolate chip brownies.


We had hoped to sail as far as St. Catherines but since the winds didn't cooperate and it was getting late, we headed into Ossabaw Sound inlet. We decided that after days of cold nasty nights a marina might be a welcome relief, and with shore power Hans could watch the Steelers.


Here's a bit of trivia; water depths in the Ossabaw inlet can vary by 9 or more feet with the tides, and the currents just rip. We discovered that low tide is very low and at 6 PM we found ourselves aground at the entrance to the marina creek. And we draw two and a half to three feet!


Hans immediately shut down the engines so as not to suck a bunch of sludge and sand into the engines and we thought, 'Now what?' Just then a small motor boat came down the creek and the owner, a former tow boat captain who was on his way home managed to pull us off. By now it was dark and he led us up to the marina, helped us tie up, and absolutely refused payment. "We've all been there," he laughed.


After anchoring in three nights of bitter cold temps, we were so happy to finally be able to relax and use our space heater, I made Tuna Tettrazini (Tuna Helper!), and we watched the Steelers beat the Jets. All was well.


And then at 4 AM everything went wrong.


What happened next is exactly what boaters should never do.


Hans woke up at close to four o'clock and realized that our space heater wasn't working. A glance at the navigation station revealed that our shore power was no longer connected and our inverter had shut down our batteries.

That's when Hans broke our iron clad rule. Never go above at night unless someone else knows about it. I was apprised of this situation when a huge bang woke me up. Hans wasn't in bed, he wasn't in the head or salon, and then I found the cockpit door open.


"I'm in the water," Hans shouted when I emerged from the cabin, and there he was, pinned between our boat and the dock in at least four knots of bitter cold, outgoing current.

He looked stunned and I knew we didn't have much time. I didn't agree with him but Hans felt he should try to get to our swim ladder while I hysterically babbled about throwing him a life preserver which would obviously not get him out of the water. Somehow he managed to pull himself along the dock (against the current) and then lunge over to our stern which was swinging well away from the dock, and partially swim and grab at our boat until he reached the starboard side. I dropped the swim ladder and up he came. His sweat pants were down around his knees and he had to strip them off before he could heave his way into the cockpit.

I managed to get on the dock, reconnect our power, and tighten the stern line. It wasn't until I was back on the boat that we realized that the palm of Hans' left palm was slashed wide open and bleeding everywhere. We bound it shut and after getting the rest of his sopping clothes off I stuffed him into our bunk and made him a mug of hot chocolate. Even with blankets, Wilbur, and me draped all over him he shook for a good long time.


This morning it was obvious that his hand needed medical attention and that's when the cavalry descended upon us. Even after all that the paramedics were not permitted to suture his wound and Hans had to take a cab to an Emergi-Center and get stitched up.


How did this happen?


Upon realizing that our electrical cord had pulled free from its source, Hans decided to simply jump onto the dock and reconnect it. He didn't count on the icy conditions and his feet went out from under him and he dropped straight into the water. It was a very narrow slot and I can't believe he didn't hit his head on the boat or smash his jaw onto the floating dock. We're pretty sure his injured knee is what hit the dock first and saved him from being knocked unconscious.

This one simple act could have killed him. He could have been knocked out, he could have suffered from hypothermia (the water was 46 degrees), and if we hadn't been at a floating dock he could have been swept away with the current.

Don't think I haven't given him hell for this.

Hans has been around boats all his life and this is what happens when you get complacent and careless.

I'm still a bit shaken over all this and as embarrassing as it is to post, if this keeps someone else from pulling the same stunt, it will be worth it.

How Cold Is It?

Too damn cold as far as we're concerned!

No, our Knotty Cat does not suffer from dandruff. That's sleet on our dodger and it didn't melt either!

Last night we were in bed by eight with Wilbur firmly tucked in between us and this morning some of our hatches had ice on them. It is soooo not fun to struggle into ice cold clothes.

Here are our coffee cups from this morning.

On a nicer note, we ended up motoring over 44 miles yesterday and anchored in Bull Creek. Hans was very pleased this morning when our anchor came up as slick as snot.

Today we're going 'outside' with predicted 15 knot North winds and 2 to 4 foot seas.

We hope to get as far as St. Catherines in Georgia. I would appreciate it if everyone would keep their fingers crossed! We've had three unprecedented nice days and I'm bracing myself for another disaster!

Baby, it's Cold Outside!

And just leave it to the Knotty Cat to find a way to take advantage of it.

When we left our girl in Charleston, SC this fall we debated about whether to winterize her or not. And since we were (and still are) going to return to her at the end of December, before it really gets cold, we were advised not to.


Well guess what? Not only is it going to get cold this weekend, the temperatures are expected to plummet into the teens.

In South Carolina!


So not only did we suffer through the hottest summer on record this year, we are now experiencing the coldest it's not even winter yet on record.

After receiving a concerned call from the boat yard (where the Knotty Cat has been drying out) that they were expecting temperatures in the teens this weekend, we needed to make a decision. Should we just pay them to winterize her, or should we rent a vehicle (which we would need for at least three days) and drive down there and do it ourselves.

We would also need to decide whether Wilbur would made the trip with us or spend a few expensive days at Doggy Day Care where we've discovered he's hugely popular and always welcome.

In the end it was cheaper to have the yard do the work but what kills me is that it's only going to be needed for a total of three weeks!

Honest to God, three weeks!


Today we were informed that the Knotty Cat has been successfully winterized and I swear I can hear her purring all the way up here because yet once again, she's gotten her own way.


What a Prima Donna. She should give lessons!