Thus spoke Kris: “Folks, you’re doin’ it wrong,
Three years on the hard is too long.
Yes, the boatyard is great
And the folks are first-rate,
But the WATER is where you belong.”
You are probably saying, “I told you the same thing.” But where are you? Kris put his money where his mouth is, and came halfway ’round the world to help us splash! So he gets the reward … TODAY …
(=<
“If you say this is work, I’ll not stay,”
Said our friend Kris, who’d come all the way
Here from Capetown, to get
Flutterby’s bottom wet,
“So let’s not call it ‘work’ — call it PLAY!”
In two days, Kris and Barry and I have played with … sanders and grinders and saws and drills and dremels and screwdrivers … epoxy and polysulfide goop and solvents … impellers and zincs and hoses and clamps and backing plates … the list goes on and on. We’re all enjoying the work and we’ll be floating very, very, VERY soon!
For those of you wondering how we managed to get the world’s absolute best crew member from South Africa, I wrote about some of our earlier adventures with Kris in 2007 and in 2004.
We went into that boating store, “West,”
For a brand new flag halyard, the best.
We replaced it — OK!
But the very same day
‘Twas the main halyard broke: Who’d have guessed?
“I’m so glad it’s your problem, not mine,”
Said our Freedom friends, sipping their wine.
But those friends don’t know Lee,
Who, with Simplicity,
Kindly fixed it — we sailed back, just fine.
He went up using spitwads and tape,
But no halyard! We watched, mouths agape.
It’s a bird! It’s a plane!
Superman’s on our main!
No, it’s Spiderman! See? There’s no cape.
A little note of explanation for our non-boating friends…the flag halyard is a loooong piece of string that you use to hang pennants from the mast. On our way to the Freedom Rendezvous with our friend Jacqui’s Freedom 30, we replaced it ($20), because it looked old and rotten. Twenty minutes later, the main halyard, which is the big beefy one used to hoist the mainsail ($200), broke instead. Since there was no backup or safety line, we had to deliver the news to Jacqui that a crane would be needed to re-reeve her halyard ($150/hour). Then Lee and Kathleen magically appeared in the harbor aboard their C&C, Simplicity. Not only did Lee free-climb the 44-foot mast at anchor, he also cooked omelettes for us for breakfast.
Images below: Meps, motoring north, has plenty of spare cycles to clown for the camera. Lee sets up his climbing gear for the ascent. Barry watches Lee from below (hope he doesn’t drop anything!). The masts of Piper and Simplicity at anchor in Port Ludlow, with Lee at the top. Success! Barry shows the bicycle chain weight that Lee fed down from the top of the mast. Out sailing again, with Barry grinding the winch. Crewmember Will takes the helm of the 30-foot sailboat.
When the skies opened forth with such power,
I was drowned like a rat. So I glower
At my husband, who’s dry,
And who says, smug and sly,
“I towel off when I go take a shower.”
It rained so hard the other day, I nearly drowned getting back to Flutterby — even with a fortuitous ride across the boatyard from Ted. I should have just gotten into my birthday suit and stood on the foredeck with a bottle of shampoo.
“Sham Poo? No way! Give me the real thing, or nothing.”
When I painted the name on the side,
Philip’s comments were terribly snide.
“All your curves are a fright!”
“Get a stick, do it right!”
Now I’m feeling all shame and no pride.
We could have had the name applied professionally in vinyl for a few hundred bucks. The only reason I painted it freehand was to fulfill a sense of “artistic pride.”
The boat was so cold that we shut
The door to the forward end. But
We still had a bed,
And a galley and head,
In our maritime eight-by-twelve hut.
Below is a photo of me in our dinette bed during the cold, when the boat interior was about 45 degrees for a week. I’m wearing a wool top under my jammies, a fleece hood, and have two teddy bears to help keep me warm. Although we couldn’t drag ourselves out from under the blankets before noon, we were able to make coffee without getting out of bed!
My two pirate friends, Goofy and Funny,
Have sailed off to the south, where it’s sunny.
They have left this fine village,
To seek plunder and pillage,
They’re not dumb — but they’re plumb outa money.
Maybe you can look at the photos below and tell me, which one is Goofy and which one is Funny? (that’s Dick on the top and Larry and me on the bottom)
Our friend Alex was feeling quite blue,
For a flock of demonic birds flew,
Over each perfect mast,
And he watched them, aghast,
As the paint job was ruined by doo.
So he came out to paint them anew
And the finish was ruined by dew,
Now he frets at the weather,
And fears every feather,
And says, “Will I ever be through?”
Barry and I hired Alex Baker to give our carbon fiber masts a beautiful professional paint job. Unfortunately, Alex has been unable to control the outdoor conditions where he’s working! After the doo and dew, Alex was thwarted by heavy wind, rain, and cold. We all hope the third time’s the charm.
The photos below show the working conditions out in the “sand pit” before the masts were painted. Alex, Barry, Kenny, and Dick had walked out to look at our innovative mast-suspension system. A portion of Dick’s broken mast (right side, top photo) was used as a derrick to suspend both masts.
While I was away, the boatyard had a potluck so memorable, people were still talking about it 5 weeks later:
Now, Miss Manners would never say, “Eww,”
So Miss Audrey knew just what to do.
With a smile so polite,
She spoke out with no spite,
“Oh, how nice! Ken brought turkey that’s blue.”
Someone tried to give the turkey to the cats, but they wouldn’t touch it. Barry says it’s probably still on the bottom of Core Creek. Eww.
Here’s a big, buzzy carpenter bee,
And a husband with sting-allergy.
Now each trip on the ladder,
To relieve his bladder,
Is a peril, so it’s up to me.
Right here is a new, bee-free ladder,
90 pounds, though, and that is the matter,
For the lift goes awry,
It just falls from the sky,
And it makes Larry’s barbecue flatter.
Now I wish that my friend, Mrs. Bee,
Had drilled out her nest in a tree,
Then she’d still be alive,
And her children would thrive,
And my ladder would be bee-hole free.
In a funny coincidence, we bought a CD on Friday called “A Buzz, A Buzz.” We had discovered a great new alternative band out of Durham called Bombadil. Seattle friends, go see Bombadil at the Tractor Tavern on July 26th!