Who was that Tropical Storm...?

... It was Andrea, that's who.  But unlike last year's Tropical Storm Debby, who unfortunately became one of those party guests who doesn't understand that by midnight her hosts really wish she'd get lost, Andrea caught on quickly and left as soon as things started to get soggy.

When Hurricane Season began on June first, Hans had taken to calling me from work in order to warn me that 'weather' appeared to be moving our way. "A huge system is approaching," his frantic voice mail would announce (I rarely have my phone with me). This would cause me to become a bit paranoid and instead of hitting the tennis court or gym and getting some exercise I would hole up below with Wilbur (and too many Keebler Cookies) while awaiting the 'big blow'. After a couple of warnings that resulted in a bloated stomach and sunny blue skies I told him to knock it off.  He apologized. And then came Andrea.

On Wednesday night I'd read on my computer via MSN that a tropical storm was approaching, but since Chicken Little Hans didn't say anything to me, I opted to sleep in the next day. On Thursday, Hans left for work, I flipped my pillow to the cool side, shifted Wilbur's stretched out paws complete with sharp pitty nails from my midsection, and had just dozed off when all of a sudden the shit hit the fan. 

What sounded like the wailing of banshees jerked me wide awake. I well remembered that sound from the time we anchored in the Sassafras River in Maryland back when I was a complete novice to this whole sailing thing and I've never quite forgotten it.  I leaped out of bed and in the middle of trying to wash my face the power went out and I started to panic. I frantically wiped the soap out of my eyes and was very thankful that I was able to reset our inverter when the electric kicked back on. I finished washing up and finally opened the companionway door to a gray world of gusting rain and wind.

After the whole Debby experience I'd vowed that we'd be prepared for the next storm but we weren't. I put on my swimming suit bottoms, foul weather coat and nothing else (if you don't want to wash it, don't wear it is my motto) and got to work. I slogged through ankle deep water to get ice (if I don't have ice for drinks then don't mess with me), took Hans' hockey gear out of our dock box (before it could get soaked), took down anything that might blow away, retied our dock lines, and moved our dinghy.

I didn't get down below to check things for quite awhile but I wasn't too worried as our boat is pretty much water tight unless we stupidly leave a hatch open. Needless to say, I was horrified and totally pissed off to find our berth completely soaked. We recently bought two new air conditioners and while the one in the salon area appears to be on perfect behavior with full intentions of earning an Eagle Scout Award, the one in our berth is the spawn of the devil. I watched in complete horror as it spit rivulets of water from its cold air vent in rhythm with the drumming rain, all over our big fat feather pillows and Memory Foam mattress pad. 

The rest of the day revolved around my adjusting the dock lines in tune with the tide, sitting in the driving rain at the bow of our boat with our hose in order to fill the water tanks because I forgot to do that the day before, trying to tempt Wilbur into the cockpit so that he'd empty himself on his potty patch and not down in our already sodden berth (the only thing that got out the door was his nose, whereupon he fled to his favorite spot on our settee where he sulked for the rest of the day with a full bladder), listening to all the tornado warnings, and rotating our sodden pillows in front of the two fans I set up in our berth in hope that things might dry out before 2014. 

And, then, as late afternoon approached, Andrea grew bored with us and headed north. I felt slightly insulted, kinda like when you've put up with a totally ignorant guest and all of a sudden they blow you off for something better. Wilbur finally came out and relieved himself, I tossed all our wet towels into the cockpit, and took a shower.

Hans arrived home to a clean wife and boat, a dry berth, homemade chili on the stove, and an empty dog.

Just before the water crested our docks. It rose about six more inches after I took this picture.

Wilbur's ears blowing in the breeze.

After Hans arrived home we decided to bail out our dinghy.  I bailed while Hans supervised!

What a difference. This is how our docks normally look.

And this is what a vicious pit bull looks like after a nerve wracking day . Scary, huh!

Late his afternoon while relaxing in our cockpit we experienced a typical Florida cloud burst and normally I enjoy this since our bimini protects us like a screened in porch. But I knew better. I went down to our berth and sure enough the air conditioner was spitting water like crazy. We turned it off and tomorrow it goes back to Walmart for an exorcism.

And to think this was just the first storm of the season. I hate to think of what's to come.

Hurricane Isaac, where are you??!!

Thanks to all the hype about Hurricane Isaac, we're completely stripped down and naked.  But the question of the day is, 'Where the hell is Isaac anyway?'
We usually sleep in on the weekend but today we were up early in order to batten down the hatches.  I decided to add a load of laundry to my ice run/Kravitz trip as I'd really hate to go down in a storm without clean undies.  During these sojourns I noticed a newcomer had arrived. It was a sail boat that had taken quite a beating at a neighboring marina and the owner decided we offered a bit more protection.  His very new bow sprit was demolished and his jib hangs oddly. But when he left today with a casual, "See you later,"  we couldn't help but notice he'd tossed out but one lonely little fender and his jib is still hanging by a thread.
The polar opposite is the boat next to him. This particular cruiser is usually full of banter and always joking but yesterday he was a bit grim as he literally tore his boat apart and announced that we were sure to be evacuated and he wasn't waiting around for it.

I have to tell you that gave me a little pause.

A huge cabin cruiser that resides at the far end on the sea wall left yesterday morning with a boat full of party goers. As they ran the gauntlet of those of us choosing to remain, they shouted out that they were going out to meet Isaac (Ha Ha) and we were all left wondering just what was really going on. They never did come back and word has it that they were going somewhere else in order to get hauled out because during Tropical Storm Debby they'd been bashed against the wall far too much for comfort. At least that's what they said. I have to kinda wonder if they didn't appreciate the fact that Wilbur chose to take a huge dump right beside their boat (in the grass and anyway Wilbur has been pooping there long before they ever brought their boat in here) during one of their on board parties which included a lot of snotty teenage girls.

Across the way, the boat with the hurricane ready tarps got ship shape very quickly after a severe tongue lashing from the marina owner and by noon or so we were all ready for Isaac.
Sally (from Blue Moose) and I decided to take advantage of whatever nice weather we had remaining and headed for the pool but then Hans showed up and announced that it had started raining in Pass-a-grille. I got out, took a good long shower in the bath house and washed my hair.
Once back on our boat we awaited the big blow.
We ate Publix fried chicken.
I had two Wilbur Wow Wows and worked on a crossword puzzle.
The rain stopped.
The sun came out.
The boat got hot (we now have no air conditioning).
I got pissed.
The radar showed that we were currently being slammed with a huge amount of rain.
We were bone dry.
I went back to the pool.
An hour and many laps later it started spitting rain.
We went back to the boat, again.
The rain stopped.
Sally and Brian, and another couple we know stopped by for an impromptu cocktail party and with the same question on their minds.
Where the hell is Isaac?
I've finally figured out that Isaac is a blow hard.  He's the 'Party on Down Dude' who's really just full of his own hot air.  He's the 'Big Man on Campus' and after assuring all us low life hangers on that he'll be showing up at our party, has really just chickened out.

We were so desperate for entertainment during our Getting Schnockered While Waiting for Isaac Soiree we actually stopped talking long enough to watch a fellow livaboard across the way get on her boat.  I'm ashamed (not really) to admit that we all hoped for a repeat performance on her part where she takes a misstep and falls into the water.
This would have been spill number five but alas it wasn't to be.

Maybe next time.

Hans ridding our boat of its many layers of sun protection.

"I think it's time to start cruising again."

"Where's my sunscreen? I have tender skin you know!"

It's late Sunday night and I'm amazed at how calm things are here.  We fully expected to be under siege by now. 

Of course there's always tomorrow.

Tropical Storm or Hurricane Isaac

I was so hoping hurricane season would end this year without us becoming directly involved with one. But I guess that's not going to happen. We were surprised at the force Tropical Storm Debby exerted and I have a  funny feeling that Isaac scored himself some steroids and intends on showing us exactly how a proper storm should behave. Poor old future storm Joyce started forming right behind Isaac but when he started roaring and pounding his chest Joyce grew depressed, lost her momentum, and headed north out to sea.

Today we were kept busy readying our Knotty Cat for what's sure to be a hell of a blow.  We took down the Home Depot patio curtains that we had draped over the boat in order to provide a bit more sun protection, re-secured our dinghy which is currently upside down on our bow, and bought some washing machine hose to put on our dock lines for chafe protection. Tomorrow we'll take down the bimini and dodger (which we did not do during Debby because we didn't know she'd hang around so long), lug our air condition down below before tons of rain sneak around its horribly inefficient tarp, and move our car to higher ground.  Oh yeah, I also emptied our dock box. You might recall that during Debby our dock box was flooded and all of Hans' hockey gear got soaked.  His gear is now in plastic bags and stacked in the car.

Since we're relatively new to this whole live aboard life (it's been just one year this month) I found myself Kravitzing around a bit more than usual as I was curious to see how other people in the marina were preparing for Isaac. I expected to find everyone in a panic and braced myself for the most dire of predictions (kind of like the cruiser's forum in real time) and I was almost disappointed to find that everyone was pretty calm.
Today we all looked like a bunch of worker ants; tarps, biminis, dodgers, jibs, a lot of main sails, cushions, potted plants, dinghies, etc... have been removed.  We didn't remove our jib but wrapped the jib sheets around it a couple of more times and we have an in-boom furled main so it too was left alone.
By coincidence our marina's palm trees got trimmed this week and now with everyone's boats getting stripped down we resemble a poor depression kid with bad summer buzz cut.  Hans thinks everything looks clean and neat.

During my ice run/Kravitz trip this morning I came upon a sight that both horrified and delighted me, and I knew I had to go get my camera. I immediately made a pit stop at The Blue Moose and told Sally (the better half of that live aboard team {sorry Brian}) what I'd seen. Of course she wanted to go with me and after dumping the ice in our cooler I informed a pouting Hans that he could most certainly start taking down our many layers of curtains without me since a photo-op was awaiting me.

Look at this (and while I took tons of pictures these ones turned out best).

Hmmmm. Hurricane ready?

Honest to God the owner of this boat showed up yesterday, declared it 'Hurricane Safe', and then left.

While I was taking pictures of it a puff of wind (that I didn't even feel) billowed the tarps out in an alarming fashion.  

Check out the frayed fringe on that back pole. The rest of the tarp is held in place with a couple of small bungee cords.

Wilbur loves going to 'the front' (that's what we call the bow when we talk to him).   Hans is removing our Home Depot Curtains.

Wilbur is not looking forward to having his schedule upset and as far as he's concerned Isaac can kiss his very cute butt.

Good riddance Debby.

Tropical Storm Debby became one of those events in our life where reality far outweighed expectation.
However, I have to say I only appreciate this type of experience when it comes to things like vacations.

Here at our marina we've all agreed that we were pretty complacent about this storm and we consider ourselves very lucky that we didn't sustain any more damage than we did. It doesn't help that our weather forecasters are huge fear mongers and they practically salivate every time a cloud squeezes out a drop of rain.
Which happens nearly every day.

One of our dog park friends cracked us up when he shared a news story he and his wife saw on TV awhile back. It depicted a weather man in full foul weather gear standing next to a (very poorly anchored) stop sign that was flapping madly in the breeze as he announced that residents were fearful and gearing up for a siege of terror.
I've no doubt the poor guy was mortified when right in the middle of his spiel a woman wearing flip flops and carrying a cocktail strolled into the picture and very calmly meandered right past him.
I like the way she was gearing up.

So you can see why people get so complacent when it comes to storms here. After a while we all get sick of Chicken Little screaming that the sky is falling.
However, I do have to admit that Debby did get the better of our SEVERE WEATHER TEAM and even they underestimated her power.



This is the sidewalk that goes around the whole marina.  This is what it looked like when poor Hans tripped getting onto the boat and ended up on his back. (I promise I'm not still laughing ;-)  )

One liveaboard said that in the 6 years he's lived here this is the first time this has happened.

This picture was taken of the bay on Sunday during the storm.

Poor little awning.  It looks like road kill

We thought Debby was on her way out of town and pretty much out of the picture but on Monday night she picked up the marina work shop awning (that was bolted to the cement floor) and tossed it over the fence and into the pool.








We are really hoping that Debby hasn't set a trend for the summer. But all the same we're going to try to be a bit more prepared the next time.

Which will probably be pretty much every week.

Tropical Storm Debby Continues

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.

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.

Tropical Storm Debby

When Debby arrived last night she was on pretty good behavior.  She rained on us and blew a little wind around and Hans and I relaxed below and watched a video.  The forecast kinda led us to believe that Debby wasn't going to hang around very long as she other places to go.
I guess this gave Debby the impression that we found her to be a weak and slightly boring guest.  This didn't please her at all and today she let us know that before she leaves she wants us to know just how powerful and exciting she can be.

Our dock box a couple of hours ago and we still haven't reached high tide!










This was this morning around 11 AM and we were shocked at how high the water was.  Normally it's about three feet lower.










This was at about 2:00 PM and high tide is supposed to be around 4:00 PM.  However the overflow is running into the parking lot so it really shouldn't get much higher than this.

If you'd have seen Hans get off the boat in this you'd know why once he got back on I told him he was staying put. His middle name is not Grace. So I left and walked to the marina office to get ice because tropical storm or not I refuse to drink warm Wilbur Wow Wows.

This video shows a little of what it was like here today and it went on and on and on and on!  Poor Wilbur, who's been through many storms with us, wasn't having any of it and has only gone pee on his potty patch once. I'm sure he's gotta be pretty full of it by now and we wish Debby would get sick of hanging here with us and move on. 

I've no doubt Debby has had a wonderful time here.  I just hope she's not too insulted that we don't intend to invite her back.

------------------------------------------------------
UPDATE


Let me just state right now that I don't care one bit whether Debby likes us or not.  She's a nasty b*tch and doesn't deserve any one's consideration.  My poor parents who live in PA called us as they were concerned about our welfare since the media was having quite a field day with this particular storm.  After I assured them we were okay and that the worst was over, Debby kicked it back into high gear and I ended up atop our boat, naked under my foul weather gear (I didn't want to traumatize the marina folk but I'm the one who does the laundry around here you know and our shower area is already full of soaked clothing!), trying once again to secure the completely ineffectual tarp- like covering that came with our very over priced West Marine air conditioner (Hans spent the better part of his day standing underneath the hatch attempting to deflect a constant influx of water). Soon thereafter Hans and I together, and with a lot of 'what the hell are you doing' comments (mostly on my part), took the damned air conditioner down.
And right after a fellow live aboard called to warn us about a tornado warning we watched a runaway jib on a boat behind us rip to shreds. After it was finally released and cut down we sat below and listened to halyards cling and clang  like xylophones all the way up and down the marina.
And poor Wilbur is literally cross eyed as he still hasn't gone pee on his patch since this morning.
We hate you Debby!