Try not to be too quick to judge.

 

 

Last week I got caught up with the blog 'Rebel Heart' written by Charlotte Kaufman. I ran across Charlotte's blog a long time ago when I was googling boat type sewing information. Thanks to her I found a YouTube tutorial that shows how to sew a pillowcase that has no raw seams. I loved it and after a $40.00 visit to the fabric store I soon had four completed (and very pricey) pillowcases. I realize this has nothing to do with maritime sewing but it made me feel good (and it also dressed up our berth). Charlotte sewed tons of stuff for her family's boat and last night when I watched the dramatic NBC news broadcast of their rescue at sea, I was shocked, when amid all the drama, I recognized the beautiful salon cushions Charlotte sewed.

 

I can't imagine there are very many people out there who haven't heard this story and I hope those that do, don't rush to judgement too soon without knowing the specifics. But for those who haven't, here's a brief rundown. Charlotte and her husband Eric (a certified captain) have been liveaboard cruisers for several years and last month they set off on an around the world cruise. They left Mexico with their two daughters (3 years old and 1 year old) on a heavily provisioned (and I mean something like 4 months worth) blue water boat. This is nothing new in the cruising world and over the years many families have safely completed this voyage.

It can be a tedious journey and Charlotte's posts are brutally honest (which most likely explains the vicious nature of many comments on many forums). The newscast stated that the baby had suffered from salmonella poisoning that had been diagnosed before the family left port, but they also reported that doctors had cleared them for departure. This wasn't news for those who follow the blog because Charlotte wrote about delaying the trip while she and her girls had to take rounds of antibiotics after a check up revealed problems. It was after the doctor declared them okay to go they left Mexico on the first leg of their journey to Australia. Charlotte and Eric updated their blog frequently and then a couple of days after the last post and nearly two weeks into their jouney there they were on the news. Of course most of the early reports were conjecture and the first report I heard on TV was that a couple who are sailing around the world were on a disabled boat with an infant that has heart problems. I immediately knew they were talking about the Kaufmans but I also knew Lyra did not suffer from heart problems. If I hadn't known who they were referring to I, too, would have wondered who the hell goes out to sea under those circumstances. And I believe that's about all it takes to bring the haters out of the woodwork. It kind of makes me wonder how many other news stories start out wrong because the media feels the need to 'fill in' the blanks.

 

This much we know: A call for help was sent from Rebel Heart. The baby was sick and the boat disabled. Rescue crews were dispatched and upon arriving on the scene were able to stabilize the baby. Unfortunately, they could not get the boat restarted and once the family was evacuated, it was scuttled (purposely sunk). Personally I feel the situation was handled well. The Kaufmans had the proper equipment to call for help and did. I know a lot of people are upset about the cost of the operation, but that's what rescue squads are trained to do. Wouldn't it be a perfect world if they were never needed.

 

So here's a true story I read a few years ago. A cruising couple (mom was pregnant) and their two year old set out on a known to be very dangerous passage (I can't remember the exact piece of water). Among other problems, they knowingly left on a boat with bilge pump issues. For crew they brought along an exotic dancer they'd just met who had no sailing experience. The passage was every bit as bad as it had been described and in addition to a couple of knockdowns they took on an alarming amount of water. Of course the automatic bilge pumps quit working and had to be manually operated. The wife was down below in a berth with the two year old and the husband had to man the pumps with the dancer at the helm. There were a couple of times they nearly did sink when huge waves crashed over them and the husband couldn't keep up with the manual pumps (after all, he could only handle one pump at a time). But somehow they survived and later on wrote a rather light hearted article about it. Of course the world didn't weigh in on this couples questionable decision to take off on an un-seaworthy boat because, lucky for them, nothing happened.

 

The point of my story? We can prepare and take precautions and try to always do the right thing, but then life happens. Because honestly, Rebel Heart should have had a typical sailing adventure; not always pleasant and easy but certainly manageable. And that other boat? There are a lot of vessels like that sailing around and somehow they manage to stay afloat.

 

We make decisions every day to drive on highways, fly on airplanes, and sail the seas. And sometimes bad things just happen.

 

I'm relieved that Lyra appears to be doing well and I can't imagine what it was like for Charlotte and Eric when they were told their home had to be destroyed. If you read any of the links I provided you can see how hard they worked to make that boat a real home.

 

I do know they have a huge support group among the sailing community and I hope only the best for them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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.

We're in the Bahamas!!! And I have to wonder; why the hype?!

I didn't mind having to wake up at 3:30 AM in order to traverse the channel out of Dinner Key Marina.


I didn't mind getting sea spray in my face as I knelt on the bow of the boat while using a rapidly dying (yet new) spot light in order to find day markers and those bizarre houses in Stiltsville (homes just outside of the channel, and really truly built on stilts, and I have to wonder how they feel about spotlights in their houses as many a sailor heads to the Bahamas).


I was okay with the 2 to 3 foot seas that NOAA had predicted, and was quite proud of myself when I waited until we were nine nautical miles from Bimini to puke.


I wasn't overly thrilled with the wind as it remained E SE for most of the day (even though we'd been promised S winds) which meant we had to motor the whole way and never had a chance to sail. Our time in the water went from 8 hours to possibly 12.


I was dismayed when right behind us I saw huge blue black clouds marching across the sky like Nazi soldiers when we were only 7 miles away from Bimini's shore line.


I was more than a bit frightened when the skies opened up and winds hit us clocking up to 51 knots (that's nearly 60 MPH folks!) and visibility went to nearly zero.


I would've liked to puke (but my stomach was empty) when Hans told me to get on the radio NOW and ask for information about entering the Bimini channel.


Thank God some good citizen (as all officials ignored us) answered me, plotted our location, and told us that our best bet was to head into Nixon's Harbour in South Bimini and anchor for the night. I felt a huge sense of relief when he said, "Get yourselves settled and enjoy the evening." Gee, maybe we wouldn't die after all.


Forty five minutes later we rode the wind and waves into Nixon's Harbour and after two attempts at dropping the hook, it stuck. And then we got to spend the rest of the night hoping we wouldn't drag into the ocean.

But when my French Press broke this morning, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.
" I'm. Not. Happy!!!!!" I stated. "Period!"






Welcome to Bimini!





Who would have thought we'd arrive wearing foul weather gear, life jackets, and jack lines!













This morning we navigated the channel into Bimini with 20+ knot winds and hellish waves. I'm not exaggerating! There are boaters here who refused to go out today.







The quarantine flag goes up.

















And thank God for miracles, we got through customs and immigration with no problems.





Wilbur our poor little Salty Dog (who hid in our bunk shaking with fear), poses with the Bahamian flag.
























Wilbur takes a much deserved rest atop Hans' safety harness.








Of course Internet is expensive and iffy but I'll try to update whenever possible.

Wilbur goes AWOL

We motored into Palm Cove Marina in Jacksonville, FL on Sunday, got cleaned up and headed out to dinner with our departing guests. Unfortunately I forgot to take my camera and didn't get any pictures. Craig (who lives in Jacksonville) had already arranged to take Monday off from his job and came back to the marina in order to give Hans a hand with replacing a piece of brass plumbing that burst this winter due to freezing. We had paid to have the boat winterized and were a little concerned when upon getting back aboard we didn't see any 'pink' (anti freeze) in our lines. Long story short, a pipe burst and we were finally able to take time to repair it. Hans emailed the boat yard that performed the winterization, and they agreed to reimburse us for the materials and the extra day we had to spend at the marina in Jacksonville. They (and we!) are lucky that Craig is very handy and was able to help Hans replace things properly.


Wilbur loves to check his Facebook account whenever he can. Although after his shenanigans of this morning I think he's going to find that a lot of his privileges are going to be revoked.

"A little privacy please!"









We decided that in order to catch the right tides for our trek to St. Augustine, we should get out bright and early this morning.



Easier said than done when you wake up to pea soup!
This is the marina as I observed it from our stern.

The boat next to us finally decided to venture out at around 10:30 AM.

Here he is crossing our stern.

And just a little way past us. You can see how foggy it still was.

He was back in about 15 minutes and said that it was like a curtain of white in the ICW. I told him that in the 15 minutes he was gone that he'd missed some huge drama at our dock.

So this is what happened.

Hans and I had started the engines and were trying to remove our cooking grill on the port side of the cockpit. Wilbur thinks he has to help with everything every step of the way so I wasn't surprised to hear the tags jingle on his collar as he came up to join us in the cockpit.

Hans was getting ready to cast off our lines when I wondered where Wilbur was. Like I said, he's normally underfoot. However, a quick check of the salon area and our berth told me that Wilbur was not down below.

Hans insisted he was in our berth as he'd seen him there right before we tried taking the grill down. I went back to our berth again and pounded the covers to make sure he wasn't hiding.

No dog!

Hans ran down below to check it out for himself and I started looking over the sides and into the water. When he came up and confirmed that there was no way Wilbur was on the boat I went into panic mode and we shut off the engines. Off the boat I went screaming out Wilbur's name as I ran around to the stern and bow trying to see if he might be trapped by the dinghy lines or heaven forbid had been caught in the propellers.

By now I was sick with fear and then I heard someone way up at the end of the dock yell, "Up here!" That's all I needed to hear and I have to tell you I don't think an Olympic sprinter could have out ran me as flew up the dock.

And then I saw Wilbur coming out of the parking lot in order to approach the men who'd been beckoning to him. Luckily he didn't run away when he saw me and came right to me. By then I was shaking so bad I could hardly stand up and one man with wildly unkempt hair and ratty clothes stared at me like I might actually be crazier than him.

We now know that when I heard his tags jingle when we were in the cockpit, he actually scooted over the starboard side and jumped down onto the floating dock. It was a very long drop and I can't believe he did it as he's not overly fond of getting on and off the boat.

I think what happened was this; when I walked Wilbur yesterday he found a very delectable smell in the parking lot and nearly sucked the pavement up his big pitty nose he sniffed so hard. I think he still had that smell in mind and just had to get back to it as soon as our backs were turned.

Time out for Wilbur.

I don't think he looks sorry enough for what he did to me.

This has gotten me to wondering though. It would appear that the men in my life will do anything, including going overboard (even in freezing temperatures), in order to get away from me.

Perhaps I should be putting our shower to use more often.

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.

Another Haul Out.

I took this video on Friday when The Knotty Cat was initially dumped into the water. She was hauled out again today, and Honest to God I don't think there's a boat on earth that's been hauled out more times than our Knotty Cat.

According to the experts today is supposedly the most depressing day of the year and I would imagine the folks at the boat yard might concur with this notion after Hans wandered up to the office at 7:30 this morning. Very soon thereafter the manager arrived at the Knotty Cat, assessed the situation, determined the problem to be on the 'outside' and promised a haul out as soon as the tides lessened. And let me tell you Tide is King in this river. Even the TowBoat US guy told us he hates getting called to this neck of the woods because of them.

When the travel lift finally hoisted our girl out of the water I fully expected to find that she'd shed her propellers but sonofagun they were still very firmly attached. The only problem was; they were on backwards and apparently our girl doesn't like her shoes on the wrong feet.

Hans immediately noticed that the propeller blades weren't lined up properly and couldn't be put into their feathering position, and he's now blaming himself for not noticing this before the Knotty Cat was launched, but I think he's being too hard on himself. The mechanic who originally did the work is off until Wednesday so the manager and another mechanic went to work. They started talking about pitch and angles and diameters, and did we have any specs? Unfortunately these details were left out of all the literature we received when we bought the boat but a call to Island Packet and VariProp (a company that offers some support for the now defunct propeller maker) answered our questions, and let me tell you that the people at VariProp are wonderful!

So in the end what we've learned is that propellers are actually quite sophisticated and not only were ours improperly aligned they had different pitches. This caused our engines to scream in outrage and our boat to race with the mercy of the current because they were of absolutely no use to us whatsoever. Tomorrow (Tuesday) we go back into the water and this time we'll have company (most likely in the form of the manager) for a bit of a sea trial to see if all is well. We're a bit puzzled over this situation and really don't understand how it happened but we also know that sh** happens and as long as everything works out in the end we'll be happy.

However, Wilbur is not at all happy with his situation. I mentioned yesterday that while we were on the hard we had to rappel him on and off the boat. Apparently Wilbur has a very good memory because tonight we had to once again hoist him up via the gennaker halyard and as soon as Hans dropped the line overboard Wilbur went nuts and tried to get away. I jammed him into his life jacket anyway, hooked up the halyard, and when he tried to flatten himself into the ground, Hans started hauling him up. Even though Wilbur was paddling the air like crazy, all was going well, and then Hans' phone rang as I was scrambling up the ladder to finish hauling my baby on board and he dropped us both like a hot potato in order to answer it (I forgave him since it was the man from VeriProp). He didn't actually drop Wilbur but it was now up to me to free a very strong and frightened pit bull from his harness and safely deliver him to the cockpit.

Tomorrow we'll have to drop him overboard when they move the Knotty Cat again and I will try to get a video.

I'll try but if he does a mid-air flip on the way down like he did yesterday, I'm not promising anything!

Mr Wilbur's Wild Ride (or what went wrong this time)

First of all, today is Wilbur's first birthday. Look at his sad baby picture taken at the vet clinic when he was 11 weeks old. His former owners left him alone with a pregnant female dog and she promptly tried to kill him.

When they couldn't afford his treatment they relinquished custody and we ended up with him.

You can see the IV in his left fore leg.

Here he is trying to stay warm on our first night back on the boat.

After a 12 hour drive we arrived and found out the lock combination we'd been given in order to get into the boat yard wasn't right.

Luckily they have an emergency number to call.

Then we had to steal a ladder from another boat in order to get on ours, and I had to frog march poor Wilbur up to the top.

After a day of provisioning, getting the rental car back to the agency, and rappelling Wilbur off and on the boat: I was overwhelmed, wiped out, and vaguely depressed.

Hans was euphoric; he was back on the boat.

Wilbur was confused and constipated.

A yummy peanut butter birthday kong.

The Knotty Cat was put back in the water on Friday and we decided that since we finally didn't have a real schedule (YAAAAAAY!!!), and with all the details that really needed attention, we wouldn't leave on Saturday after all.

It felt so good to use an entire day to get things put away properly and by the end of the day (last night) I was feeling a thousand times better and didn't even mind that I had to heat water on the stove and wash dishes in a bucket on the dock. Our water tanks are empty and the marina's water is full of sulphur and to fill our tanks with it would be a nightmare.

Hans was thrilled to be able to watch football on our TV and the reception is incredible with our new antenna.

We got up bright and early this morning in order to take advantage of high tide and its strong currents, and put on our foul weather gear while the coffee was brewing. Boy we just knew after all the work that had been done on our girl she was going to just purr her way down the river.

I pulled off the last dock line, Hans accelerated forward and off we went.

In reverse!

Holy crap! We knew the current was strong but not this strong.

And why did the engines sound so loud?

We continued sliding backwards and I ran down to look in the engine rooms. Our newly aligned port engine had taken on a life of its own, was bucking like a bronco on its new motor mounts, and gave every appearance of trying to escape to greener pastures. The newly aligned starboard engine was also unhappy and in the spirit of competitiveness emitted very loud knocking sounds.

By now we were well away from the dock and the current was pushing us straight towards a green marker when Hans realized that we had no power at all in either engine. We just missed the marker and then had to worry about the huge electric tower we were skidding towards. I kept screaming to throw out the anchor but we were in thirty feet of water. We missed the tower and its cables and when the depth read sixteen feet the anchor finally went over. Thank God it caught hold and we finally stopped.

Wilbur had been with us in the cockpit the whole time and was really pretty good about everything but when the boat stopped he jumped on his potty patch and ended his constipation issue.

TowBoat US got us back to the dock by 10 AM but it felt like we'd been gone for hours. So here we sit with our newly repaired yet crippled boat and we can't even begin to imagine what the hell went wrong.

Tomorrow when the boat yard opens we'll find out, but I'm not sure I really want to know. It seems to me like every single time we get on board this boat we have some sort of disaster occur. And Hans tries so hard to keep all the systems in good repair, he checks the oil and belts every morning, and has all the maintenance done in a timely manner but we keep getting hit with very big (and very scary) problems.

Maybe this stuff happens to everyone but it sure doesn't seem like it.

While we were waiting for TowBoat US I took this picture.

That's marker #39 and the tower we just missed hitting. In the distance is the boat yard.

Wilbur is thanking Hans for getting us back to the dock after our thrill ride.

Crappy New Year!

I only hope the start of this New Year isn't going to be a reflection on the months to come or I may just start hibernating right now.


And my daughter did not have food poisoning by the way.


Ask me and my trusty bucket how I know.


Here are some highlights.


Thursday, Baby Girl shows up from college break so she can party all weekend with her friends.


Thursday night, Baby Girl gets home at 11:30 with funny stomach pains and by 2 AM has become best friends with our one and only toilet. All night long.

In the morning and thinking I'm being funny, I ask her if she'd like some Gorgonzola, olive, and pimento spread, on crackers. She almost cries, and don't worry, God got even with me later.


Friday. New Years Eve, Hans and I (slouching in our sweat pants) watch Dick Clark welcome in the New Year. We then try (unsuccessfully) to get a good nights sleep on our living room futon (with Wilbur firmly ensconced between us) because Baby Girl is languishing away in our King Sized Bed!


Saturday. New Years Day, I throw a pork loin and sour kraut in a crock pot because we all know eating pork on New Year's Day is supposed to bring good luck. Well, for everyone except the pig that is.

Then my vet tech daughter calls in hysterics because "I just totalled my car and I need you to come and get me!"

I go get her and Duncan (her pit bull) who she claims was scared to death, but judging from the tail and tongue wagging appears to have viewed the whole episode as one giant thrill ride. Luckily she's insured (for now anyway) and in her words, "I should be okay. None of my other accidents have been my fault."



Sunday. It's not until I've eaten my french toast and coffee that I realize my arms feel like rubber and it's now my turn to hog the bathroom.

Baby Girl decides this would be a good time to go home and leaves. A half hour later she's back because she can't find her wallet. A quick toss of the apartment does not produce said wallet and now it's back out to her car and our SUV to see if it might be there. I leave all this fun to her and Hans and crawl back into bed.

On my next potty race I find Hans looking baffled and Baby Girl in tears. They inform me that Baby Girl has now locked her keys in her car. Before we can all panic Hans remembers that I always keep a spare set of keys in a magnetic box attached to the frame of the car.

Disaster averted!

Except Baby Girl has that evasive look on her face and when asked if she's looked for the spare she says it's not there and, must have fallen off.

I point out that those boxes don't just fall off, she starts bawling, and I run to the bathroom.


Sunday Evening. After spending a freezing afternoon trying to break into the car Hans finally calls a towing company (which I'd said to do from the very beginning) which arrives a few hours later The car is unlocked within seconds and I get the fifty five dollar invoice. I'm hoping I won't be able to smell the pork and sour kraut that I know is being reheated now.


Monday Morning. After a restless night I wake up and tell Baby Girl to get her butt out there and tear that damned car apart and make sure her wallet isn't there. My Vet Tech daughter calls and asks if she can borrow one of our cars to go to the store, and I wonder why the hell we didn't try to get down to the boat last week.


Still Monday Morning. Eureka! The wallet is found! It was in a pocket in Baby Girl's computer bag. Hans makes the mistake of asking why she doesn't always keep it in the same place and didn't it even occur to her to look there first? I ask her why the hell she can't be bothered to carry a purse and her brilliant reply is, "Because I'd lose a purse." (Keep in mind she's from the generation that we hope will save us from ourselves!)

For this I make her use her car to take Vet Tech Girl to the store.


Tuesday. I'm no longer sitting on the toilet with a bucket in my lap but all I can do is sleep and try to drink gingerale, orange juice, and club soda.


Wednesday. Even though I was able to get a shower and do a much needed load of laundry (and of course the lock on the laundry room door broke and I couldn't get my key out!) Hans calls the boatyard and cancels our Thursday (tomorrow) launching. Which is a good thing because by late afternoon Hans inherited the throne and bucket. This is a bit scary because about 12 years ago Hans suffered from an esophageal tear after a bout of throwing up and received many pints of blood during his stay in the hospital. This is the first time he's thrown up since then and it's very nerve wracking!


Thursday. Hans doesn't like being sick, I need to get to the store today, and I just noticed that Wilbur didn't eat his breakfast this morning. I hope this has nothing to do with that clothes pin he ate or the fact that he de-maned Hans' Christmas lion, and plucked the eye's and nose from our little sailor bear.

We are now due to drive down to Charleston, SC on Monday, and hope to have the Knotty Cat in the water by Tuesday.

One of Hans' friends just called and invited him to go skiing on Saturday. What do you think I had to say about that?

UPDATE: Friday AM. My Vet Tech Daughter just called to let me know she spent the evening in the hospital last night. She's been throwing up for a few days and thought it was the flu. Now it appears it may be her gall bladder. Her car wasn't totalled but did suffer $6,000 worth of damage and will be gone for two weeks. I told her to please be careful with her rental!