Failure to Launch

It sounds cute when it's a fun filled movie complete with quirky characters and popular actors, but for cruisers the term Failure to Launch isn't fun at all.

Today was the day we were supposed to put the Knotty Cat in the water and make our great escape.

It didn't happen.

I'm probably partially to blame for this as last night I bemoaned the fact that unlimited hot baths, comfortable king size beds, and being able to jump into a car at a moments notice was soon to be history. Be careful what you wish for.

Yesterday when we initially visited the Knotty Cat I was relieved to have overcast skies and cool temperatures since we would be working outside for most of the time. I have to admit though that even with these conditions we were still sweating at the end of the day (that damn Florida humidity just never goes away) and I hoped today would be just as cool.

At 9 AM this morning, just as I was drying my hair (when will I learn that any attempt at taming my hair in Florida is a direct invitation to trouble?), the marina called to inform us that all launches for the day were being cancelled due to the weather. We looked out the window and, Holy Crap! We could barely see the whipping palm trees through the slashing rain. And just to make things more interesting there was a tornado warning until 5 PM. You can imagine what Wilbur thought when Hans took him out for his morning constitutional. So then another decision had to be made. We'd used up the last of our credit card points for this hotel room which meant we'd have to come up with cash for tonight. Or we could try for a room at a hotel where we still had some credit. The hotel with the credit had just one room remaining and would only accept pets under 25 pounds. And while Wilbur has been on an odd kind of hunger strike lately, no way could we diet him down to that weight in one day.

This doesn't even do justice. Outside our hotel window. It just dumped rain.

My jeans were soaked nearly to my knees after trekking through Walmart's parking lot. It rained so hard a frog leaped into our car when Hans opened the door. We don't pick up hitchhikers so out he went!

So we ponied up the money for one more night here and then went on a provisioning run.

Provisioning. It kills me. I don't like shopping to begin with but starting from scratch yet once again...it drives me nuts! Salt, pepper, garlic and onion powder, coffee, do I need sugar? flour? Not really so I'll skip those for now. Lunch meat, bread (Hans and I never agree about bread, but since I was the one shopping... he had to sit in the car with Wilbur), condiments? I bought mustard, laundry detergent (there went a chunk of change), back to the spice section for cumin and chili powder (no way can I make chile without those), TV dinners for tonight (yay for hotel room microwaves), and on and on. A couple of hundred dollars later I was done and I've barely scratched the surface, but it's a start.

We've been told to arrive at the boat yard as early as possible tomorrow as they will now have two days worth of boats going in the water. It's a long drive and arising before the crack of noon isn't my thing.

Why do I have a feeling there will be a long line ahead of us and it won't make a bit of difference when we get there.

Oh, one more thing. I've lost count of how many posts I've written about our (completely outdated yet thank god we have them or we'd be totally screwed) solar panels. If I've said it once, I've said it a bazillion times; we've nearly lost them too many times and we need to be more careful with them yada, yada, yada.

Did we learn any lessons? Apparently not, because after putting up all our canvas (dodger and bimini, and aren't they just wonderful 'wind catchers'? I'm glad we didn't remove our hurricane straps) before we departed the boat yard yesterday, we also decided to leave the solar panels out in order to 'juice up' the batteries. Sure!! Because one day of solar power is really gonna make a big difference after not being used for nearly seven months! Duh!

So once again I'm not looking forward to what we may find tomorrow.

 

Wilbur loves his new nest and would prefer to stay

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The Whole Dirty Story

 

After sitting for nearly seven months on the hard, our Knotty Cat welcomed us back today with filthy open arms.

Oh, my, where to start.

Well, she's just plain filthy.

Mildew. This seat was spotless when we left last summer.

I moved a line and this stain remained. Only one spot among many.

I feel like we left our teenager alone for the summer with hopes of her showing some personal responsibility and making us proud. Instead, it would appear our girl partied the summer away knowing full well we'd clean up her mess upon our return. We found dried up frog/toad carcasses scattered on the deck, wasp nests, too many cocoons containing God knows what, a half finished bird nest, tarnished stainless rails and lifelines, grimy dirt, and it was obvious that hygiene went straight out the window as everything that wasn't covered in bird poop was covered with a green haze.

Our dinghy outboard is mounted on a rail. You can just make out some branches from a bird nest in the middle.

You can see it a little bit closer.

Tarnished stainless rails.

But first, we needed to hoist Wilbur aboard. Remember, our boat is on the hard which means the deck is way up in the air and we can't just step aboard. We need to climb the skimpy swim ladder that drops down from the stern. This means that at 5 feet 0 inches I have to lift my leg up somewhere in the vicinity of my armpits in order to get a good foot hold (and yoga is not one of my strengths). And since Wilbur is shorter than me, we had to strap him into his life jacket and when he saw us drop the main sheet over the side in order to tie it around his middle he went ape-shit. Wilbur has the memory of an elephant and I'm pretty sure he recalled us doing this exact same thing to him years ago when the line got tangled and he ended up doing an unplanned mid-air somersault.

"As God is my witness, I will never be hoisted again!"

We finally got the little man aboard and then proceeded to assess the situation. I made Hans go below first as I felt if there was a nightmare to be discovered, he could handle it far better than me and I was thrilled beyond belief that nothing major seemed to be amiss.

We put our solar panels out and they immediately began charging our batteries.

After yanking the hell out of the generator cord it finally caught and also started charging the batteries.

Our inverter decided to work even though it was a big stinker at the end of our trip last year and only performed when it felt like it.

I was able to prime the water pump (we'll find out about the hot water tank tomorrow), our cabin lights work, the refrigerator hummed for the couple of minutes we turned it on, and we didn't find any major water damage from leaks.

I will admit that I was disappointed to find that the phifertex shield that wraps around what I call our 'windows' (official term is dead lights) failed. We had this wrap made for us a few years ago and it keeps the tropical sun out of the inside of the boat. The problem is that it's held in place with glued on snaps and not snaps that are drilled into the boat. I found some gorilla type Velcro on the boat and I'm going to see if I can fix it on the cheap. We really don't want to drill holes if not necessary.

Failed phifertex. I hope to fix this tomorrow.

But, I have to say, I believe my happiest moment occurred when I realized that even though our girl partied the summer away like it was 1999, we came home to a boat absent of crabs cockroaches.

I can live with that.

 

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I'm With Stupid.

 

Poor Wilbur lies atop my foul weather gear. It was used far too often during this trip.

When we reached the end of our voyage and reversed our route to head home from the Bahamas, we suffered a disastrous re-crossing of the Exumas Banks from Nassau to Cat Cay, and 'I'm With Stupid' is what I truly feel our boat should be named. I'm not kidding when I say we experienced a text book Sail Magazine 'what we did wrong' with very little of 'what we did right' kind of experience.

We departed Palm Cay Marina (where we performed a successful surgery on Windy), anchored in West Bay for a night, and then crossed the Northwest Channel (with a touch of the Tongue of the Ocean) the next day. Along with a cruising couple who'd left us in Blackpoint in order to reach Georgetown and then actually caught back up with us, we dropped the hook together at the Northwest Shoal anchorage for the night. We were feeling pretty darn good about everything and early the next morning we both hoisted our mains at anchor and beat it for the long trek to Cat Cay just south of Bimini.

The wind was perfect, we put out the jib, shut the engines down and exalted in a beautiful day at full sail, until the wind died at noon. So we furled the jib and let the main do its thing.

At one point we noticed a line dangling in front of our dodger and were shocked to find it was the topping lift from our boom. Hans had tied it with a bowline knot and a couple of half-hitches several years ago and I guess after all the slamming and banging we endured over the last couple of months it finally gave way. The fully raised mast is what kept the boom from swinging around like a billy club (or smashing down on our on bimini). So while under sail Hans was able to tie it back to the boom.

Not long after that I remarked that I didn't like the look of the clouds way off to our port side and shouldn't we drop the main? Since we now had next to no wind and about seven hours to go (we'd already been underway for five) Hans agreed. Why I didn't say something, I don't know, but when we started furling the main into the boom I thought it sounded strange. Damn! The topping lift Hans had tied off earlier had too much slack in it and was now caught in the boom furling mechanism tight as a drum. And there was no releasing it. We had no choice but to drop the main onto the boom and try to secure it. Our main is new and crackly and stiff, so dropping it was a chore. We ended up with each of us standing on either side of the boat while we tossed a long dock line back and forth over and under the boom and cinched it tight. In that short amount of time we got pretty soaked because those pesky clouds I'd spotted earlier had moved in and it had started raining.

Our main lashed to the boom.

Whew! we said, aren't we glad that's out of the way and cranked up the engines just as the shit hit the fan. The non-existent wind kicked up and we were suddenly seeing 20 plus knots on the beam and it kept getting worse. Poseidon then pulled a filthy shower curtain around the Knotty Cat and let loose with all kinds of mayhem. The wind continued to build, and our boom, thanks to our lashed down yet billowing main sail, started swinging back and forth with a vengeance. We ended up utilizing yet one more dock line and this time we tied it around our main sheet and yanked it tight to a rail. I leaned out and ventured a peek at the main, shuddered, and staggered back to helm where I stood for the next five hours in the wind and rain. Wilbur, who normally stays with us in the cockpit, hustled his little pitty butt down below when the rain started slashing through the cockpit.

That black line tied to the main sheet kept the boom in place

We slalomed and slid up and down the waves that had built quickly and they were pretty sizable considering we were only in 12 feet of water. I'd hate to think what we would have experienced if we'd still been in the Tongue of the Ocean which is thousands of feet deep. The wind settled in at a steady 30+knots, the gray clouds continued to empty buckets of water on top of us, and while Hans sat in the captain's seat, I found I was most comfortable standing and grasping the handles of the helm and companion way with each hand (the next day I wondered why all my knuckles ached). I ventured down below in an attempt to use the head and even though I did my usual crab walk I still managed to get body slammed into a couple of walls.

Every time I slid the companion way door open to check on Wilbur, I was apprised of yet one more horror taking place down below. Stuff was falling all over the place, and when Wilbur expressed interest in coming up top, he immediately lost his footing and fell heavily on his side. He turned tail and shot back down below where he panted heavily even though he had plenty of water. At one point he stood with his front legs on the companion way steps and it wasn't until later that I figured out why. The settee where he would usually lie now contained along with various miscellany, our heavy road rocker, and our berth (I didn't get down there until we anchored) where he likes to nap, was covered with tons of books. These books reside on a shelf in the center-most part of the boat and I'm still amazed that they fell. I finally quit looking down below when I saw the garbage can had tipped over and my 'First Mate' Tervis Tumbler was in pieces on the floor.

And once again we forgot to roll up our portable solar panels but I'd tied them down pretty securely on top of our upside down dinghy stowed on the bow. Except; Dear God! I'd forgotten to secure the dinghy itself to the deck and a couple of hours into our little adventure I was horrified, when we fell hard to starboard, to see the dinghy slide in an alarming fashion across the deck and come to rest on the lifelines. Hans forbade me to go up front and try to fix the situation I'd put us into but I was afraid the dinghy would become airborne and take out our fore stay. This also put a huge strain on the solar panel connectors because they were now stretched to the limit and we'd already ripped those connections apart in Ft. Myers.

I guess there's something to be said for wishful thinking because for the next few hours (and I mean hours!) I stood there clutching the helm and willed that damn dinghy to stay in place. It did. Finally, the wind and rain started to ebb and at around 7PM we finally motored into Cat Cay and dropped the hook in surprisingly calm water. We stripped off our foul weather gear and after comparing our pruny fingers and toes we set about straightening up the boat. I was totally beat and after our friends expressed their intention to cross the Gulf Stream to the USA the next morning I told Hans no way was I up for that. We didn't have enough weather information and I also felt that after such a long strenuous day we shouldn't push ourselves.

Of course the next day turned out to be a perfect 'crossing' day and the Atlantic resembled a huge mirror; absolutely calm with zero waves. By the time we realized this, it was too late.

If this were that Sail Magazine article I'd list what we did wrong along with what we did right, but you can already see what we did wrong along with basically nothing done right.

Thank goodness for Lady Luck.

 

At the end of the day; our friends from Island Bound heeling nicely.

 

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Shakedown Cruise # ?

 

The entrance to Fort Jefferson. This is where Dr. Mudd spent four years (all he served) of his life sentence.

 

I'm way behind on posting because we ended up in the Twilight Zone that is otherwise known as the Dry Tortuga's where there is no wi-fi or telephone coverage.

Up to that point we anchored in Bahia Honda (where we dragged anchor. Again), and at Stock Island (where we didn't drag because we were literally sitting on the bottom). We finally got to Key West where I was able to walk Wilbur to a vet and where he then collapsed on the way back to the dinghy dock because he just can't take the heat. We were meeting friends in Key West that day and thank god Hans was with them because he and Bob and Rose were able to find me and Wilbur with their air conditioned vehicle and we all ended up going to lunch. They also took us on a quick provisioning run. You gotta love these friends from the 'burgh (Pittsburgh for those who don't know what I'm talking about)!

At anchor in Stock Island. Actually, no anchor necessary.

 

There was a tri-maran anchored next to us in the Dry Tortuga's and its owners response to our question as to where he was headed to next was, "I'm not sure yet, I just bought this boat and I'm on a shakedown cruise." I made the mistake of laughing and said that as far as I was concerned, every day on the water is a shakedown cruise.

The fort is surrounded by a moat even on the gulf. This was to keep enemy vessels at bay.

 

From inside the fort. Hans is in silhouette while you can just see our Knotty Cat at anchor in the distance.

Wilbur was able to romp about on the beach here (on his leash of course).

 

Aother view of the moat.

 

We departed the Tortuga's the next day hoping that the forecasted N-NE winds would give us a smooth ride back to the Marquesas. The first two hours were rolly beyond belief. At my seat in the cockpit I'd find myself nearly lying on my back one moment and the next second almost standing upright (and remember we're on a catamaran!). Poor Wilbur (who refuses to go below while we're underway) really put his sea legs to use and swayed like a little hula dancer everytime he tried to walk and I actually had to hold onto him while he ate his breakfast in order to keep him in one place. If I'd had my camera on hand, the video I could've taken of him using his potty patch would surely have gone viral. As he hunched up to do his business, his rear end dramatically sashayed from side to side while little turds spilled and rolled about. What a dog though! everything stayed on the patch and he even managed to quick-step over his output without stomping in it.

I gave him a 10 and a gold medal.

This is just a random pic of Wilbur doing his business with a very noisy generator blasting in his face. He's 'da bomb!"

 

We picked up this poor little castaway in the Marquesas. Can you see the fishing line emerging from his beak?

I swear he's asking us to help him.

The seas finally calmed down enough to throw out a fishing line (no success) and after eight hours of motor sailing we were anchored. Yaaay! Shower time! and right in the middle of rinsing my hair I lost water pressure. I thought my shower head was acting up again but then Hans suffered the same problem in his shower (not that he cares what his hair looks like) and we figured our water pump had crapped out on us. This very same issue happened in 2010 during our first attempt at living aboard and I remember nearly coming unglued and I may have even cried and said I couldn't live this way. This time around I simply asked Hans if he remembered where our spare water pump was and then we discovered we'd drained our water tank. We switched over to the other tank and everything was fine. I have to admit I was a bit surprised that we'd used up 70 gallons of water (I'm quite the miser when it comes to water consumption on the Knotty Cat), but at the end of the day; after a week of washing dishes, rinsing salt water off of us and a very sandy pit bull after every single dinghy ride, etc... took its toll on our reserves.

The next day we decided we would motor (no wind what-so-ever) two whole hours (snore) to Boca Grande Key (we passed it by on our trip to the Tortuga's) where we would do absolutely nothing but relax. Then we woke up to nearly dead batteries and figured out our badly damaged solar panel connections had bought the farm and were actually draining our batteries. We decided as soon as we got to Boca Grande, Hans would hard wire the solar panels until we could get new connectors.

In Boca Grande when we dropped the hook and shut down the engines a piercing alarm from the helm went off. This is something that has never happened to us and no matter how much Hans jiggled the ignition key that damn thing kept screaming at us. After restarting and then shutting down the port engine it finally stopped.

And then it started again.

We shut absolutely everything down and with the solar panels taking a back seat to the shrieking alarm, Hans ripped the helm apart while I defrosted the refrigerator, again (I'd defrosted it just 2 weeks prior while at sail). At one point I was upside down inside the refrigerator when I heard Hans say, "I always thought this wheel could come off." I didn't even bother to come up for air to look.

This is a first for me.

Hans finally decided to sever the wire that leads to the 'speaker' for the alarm. He explained why this was an okay thing to do and I said "fine" and would he "please hardwire those damn solar panel connectors so all the meat in the freezer doesn't melt!"

So this is what we did on what we'd thought was going to be a relaxing day. We're still not sure if our batteries are okay or not, whether the job he did on the solar panels worked, or if disabling the alarm was a smart thing to do. I will say that I'm very glad we bought that Honda 2000 generator as it's been a life (if not a sanity) saver.

Friends of ours who were in the Bahamas recently, posted on Facebook. The caption under their pictures read:

"Cruising means fixing your boat in exotic places."

Not a new saying by any means but for those of us living it, that says it all.

-----------------------------------------------

 

Update: the solar panels still don't work. We know the panels are sending juice to the controller but it seems to stop there. Maybe. It's all too confusing. And I've also noticed the refrigerator doesn't seem to ever cycle off. And the water pump? Hmmm, it's working but it doesn't seem to have the oomph it used to.

 

After a long sweaty day of digging around a hot engine room and tracing wires into the tiniest of places, we called it a day. I went down below after clearing up the cockpit and came to a dead stop. "Who the hell stinks?" I exclaimed in an accusing tone and suddenly realized Hans had just emerged from his head where he'd taken a shower. I then took my own personal sniff test and marched myself off for a shower. It may just drizzle but at least I can now stand myself.

So, yeah boy, we're livin' the dream alright.

Possibly the first sun'rise' picture I've ever taken.

In the Tortuga's.

I couldn't sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Shake Up Cruise (Day Two)

 

Wilbur doesn't care what you do to him as long as he has contact with his peeps. Here, Hans sports his bloody lip from Sunday's adventure.

 

Why Hans doesn't just bitch slap me I'll never know. I'm pretty sure if we lived in a dog's world I'd be the irritating ankle biter and Hans would be the wise old Collie.

After our dinghy fiasco of 'Day One' we were sitting in the cockpit discussing our cruising plan for the following days when the wind kicked up. We looked up at the sky and admired all the different kinds of clouds and also noted some lightning off in the distance. Thunder started rumbling and Hans mentioned that perhaps we should roll up our solar panels. I disagreed and felt that they could be anchored down by the remnants of our sun pad (the main pad had abandoned us in the Chesapeake years ago thus proving as I've said before that inanimate objects are smarter than people). Hans, and this time he used his Captains voice, said once again that the solar panels needed to be stowed away. I continued to argue and insisted that we needed them to catch the early morning rays of the sun and insinuated that he was being overly cautious and petty.

It was when I was flinging and huffing my way to the bow in order to roll and stow those stupid (and not cheap) solar panels away, that a huge gust of wind picked one of them up and tossed it overboard.

I nearly choked and ran like a scalded dog (okay, scalded ankle biter) in hopes of catching it. I am one lucky pup because just a few months ago we had to have the connections to the panels replaced and these new ones are very secure. If we'd had the old ones, that panel would have been history. It fell into the water wiggling like an eel but thanks to that sturdy connection I was able to drag it back into the boat. I immediately rolled it and its partner up in a heart beat and slammed them into a locker.

Here are our portable solar panels. It doesn't take much wind to cause a problem

 

The new connections we had installed are what saved my butt!

Hans, being the nice person (or Collie) that he is, did not give me a hard time and don't think I'm not grateful; I gave him a huge kiss (avoiding the scabs left behind from Wilbur's rescue attempts on Day One) and let him mix me a Wilbur Wow-Wow.

Actually, today after a full day of motoring (the wind didn't kick in until after we anchored, go figure) I told him I needed to update the blog and was desirous, yet once again, of a Wilbur Wow-Wow.

My wish was his command.

Never, ever, underestimate an ankle biter!

 

Wilbur is stuck with us. The poor thing wonders what the hell we have planned next.

 

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New Boat Stuff

This has possibly turned into the most boring blog in, well, in the whole blogosphere.

It's not such a big deal since I obviously don't get paid for this thing and I know very few people read it, and it's not like it was ever very exciting but it still bugs the hell out of me how stale it's gotten. However, one of the reasons I post here is to keep track of the stuff we've done to the boat and it's also helped us settle some minor disputes like, "That's not at all what happened, don't you remember...?" "That happened the day before Wilbur jumped overboard" or "Before you fell overboard!" or "Before the sun pad flew overboard."

Dear god, a lot of stuff has gone overboard the Knotty Cat. Maybe I better shut up before...

Well anyway, on to yet one more boring blog post.

Our inverter died right around the time we installed our wind generator. This inverter both charged our batteries and allowed us to use our outlets while motoring with our Diesel engines. Luckily, the battery charging part works but without shore power or our Honda generator we could no longer use our outlets for charging phones, computers, etc... Damn, it's always something.

A new inverter would cost us around $1,000 so we decided we really didn't need one because at anchor we could always hook up the Honda on an as needed basis. And then Hans got the bright idea of buying an RV inverter (the outside of the box states: not designed for marine use, but since when do we follow the rules?) Actually, he bought two of them. A small DC one that can charge phones, computers, etc... and a bigger AC one that can actually allow us to make coffee and still keep our refrigerator running. Along with battery cables the bill came to around $140.00. We tested this system the other morning after disconnecting from shore power. After unfurling and connecting the solar panels we then accidently touched the inverter cables together resulting in a shocking and brilliant display in the galley. The fact that Hans' scheme worked almost paled in comparison.

The inverter mounted under the companionway steps.

 

A view from afar.

I forgot to take a picture before mounting it so here's a picture of the box.

This is the smaller DC unit. It can charge our computers and even (be-still my heart) run our TV. Talk about getting away from it all.

I put a pen beside it so you can see how small it is.

 

It has a USB outlet and an AC outlet for regular plugs.

 

Here are our solar panels, at the bow, atop our tarp covered dinghy (and, no, I don't need to be reminded that the tarp is wrong side out!).

Since they're portable, we can disconnect them, roll them up...

...and store them in a locker.

Of course these little gizmos will only work if we have 8 or more MPH of wind (wind generator) or sunshine (solar panels), but at least they now keep our batteries topped off so we can run our refrigerator and anchor light all night long.

We could continue to add layers of systems to the Knotty Cat but I think (except for regular maintenance required gy those who own boats) we're pretty much done.

Unless of course I talk Hans into a 'so easy even your wife can install it' water-maker.

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New Boat Stuff

This has possibly turned into the most boring blog in, well, in the whole blogosphere.

It's not such a big deal since I obviously don't get paid for this thing and I know very few people read it, and it's not like it was ever very exciting but it still bugs the hell out of me how stale it's gotten. However, one of the reasons I post here is to keep track of the stuff we've done to the boat and it's also helped us settle some minor disputes like, "That's not at all what happened, don't you remember...?" "That happened the day before Wilbur jumped overboard" or "Before you fell overboard!" or "Before the sun pad flew overboard."

Dear god, a lot of stuff has gone overboard the Knotty Cat. Maybe I better shut up before...

Well anyway, on to yet one more boring blog post.

Our inverter died right around the time we installed our wind generator. This inverter both charged our batteries and allowed us to use our outlets while motoring with our Diesel engines. Luckily, the battery charging part works but without shore power or our Honda generator we could no longer use our outlets for charging phones, computers, etc... Damn, it's always something.

A new inverter would cost us around $1,000 so we decided we really didn't need one because at anchor we could always hook up the Honda on an as needed basis. And then Hans got the bright idea of buying an RV inverter (the outside of the box states: not designed for marine use, but since when do we follow the rules?) Actually, he bought two of them. A small DC one that can charge phones, computers, etc... and a bigger AC one that can actually allow us to make coffee and still keep our refrigerator running. Along with battery cables the bill came to around $140.00. We tested this system the other morning after disconnecting from shore power. After unfurling and connecting the solar panels we then accidently touched the inverter cables together and were treated to a shocking and brilliant display in the galley. We were so relieved that the batteries and inverter weren't fried, the fact that Hans' scheme worked almost paled in comparison.

The inverter mounted under the companionway steps.

A view from afar.

I forgot to take a picture before mounting it so here's a picture of the box.

This is the smaller DC unit. It can charge our computers and even (be-still my heart) run our TV. Talk about getting away from it all.

I put a pen beside it so you can see how small it is.

It has a USB outlet and an AC outlet for regular plugs.

Here are our solar panels at the bow atop our tarp covered dinghy (and, no, I don't need to be reminded that the tarp is wrong side out!)

Since they're portable, we can disconnect them, roll them up...

...and store them in a locker.

Of course these little gizmos will only work if we have 8 or more MPH of wind (wind generator) or sunshine (solar panels), but at least they now keep our batteries topped off so we can run our refrigerator and anchor light all night long.

We could continue to add layers of systems to the Knotty Cat but I think (except for regular maintenance required by those who own boats) we're pretty much done.

Unless of course I talk Hans into a 'so easy even your wife can install it' water-maker.

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