Author Archives: Melissa

Time Flies

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Dang it, we’ve been so focused on researching parts, welders, and magicians for our exhaust elbow that we completely forgot that October is our Anniversary month for Little Cunning Plan. We’ve been at this thing for three years now. Frankly, it’s about as hard to believe as the ages of our kids and the fact that we’ve been married a lifetime. I guess the lesson in that is that if you just start, then put one foot in front of the other, stay focused,  and write about what you love a blog that records the history of your process somehow emerges. Before you know it you have three years, 220 published posts, 2,664 comments, and visitors from 125 countries. Sure, some of those are spam robots, but still. It’s mind boggling.

Happy Halloween. If you are not spider-friendly you should probably stay away from my garden this time of year. Yeah, she is slightly out of focus. I don’t like to get too close.

Looking back at our first post I see how many things have changed in three years and how far we’ve come with ‘the plan’. We no longer have our Cal 34 (although we still miss that boat and the kind of sailing she allowed us around here) and we are deep into the months of refitting S/V Galapagos. We still have a house, and while from the first post it looks like we were of a firm mind to rent out our home when we leave the dock, now we’re not sure about that. Sell? Rent? We still don’t know for sure. I imagine the correct answer will reveal itself.

In spite of the fact that I do most of the writing on this blog, Mike continues to hold the record for the most popular post of all time in the entire universe. But I’m not bitter. I can’t really blame people for being wowed by photos of Orcas in Commencement Bay. That visitation was a stunning example of his ability to communicate directly with his watery brethren. I live in humility; outshone by his dark magic ways. We got 720 hits that day alone. That post was in March 2012.  I will never catch up to that.  Not ever.

We still live here. Enjoy garden photos while you can.

Shortly after beginning this blog, we discovered the concept of comment spam. I am vastly amused by this, especially since we put the security filters in place. Hardly any spam comments get through to the actual blog but it is still entertaining to go into the spam filter and read what robots have to say. Occasionally they come up with some pretty creative phrases that make one think; like this one from today’s batch:

“Make your own art work look like the result of mastication”.

You know, I’d like to meet the robot that came up with that. I’m pretty sure that he’s seen some of my art work and I have a bone to pick with him.

The boat reviews on our website get an incredible number of hits all the time, even though almost or all of those particular boats have been sold. People like to read those reviews and I miss writing them. If I have any regrets about buying Galapagos, it’s that in choosing a boat, the search then has ended. That means people aren’t really that interested in showing us boats anymore. And I really like looking at boats. I learn so much from looking, even if I’m not buying. If you have a boat you’d like me to look at and write up, contact me and we’ll see if we can set something up.

Mike sailing Moonrise during our bittersweet last voyage on a boat that taught us to love sailing.

This past year has been a whirlwind of activity since buying Galapagos back in October 2013. We enjoyed our time in Astoria and still miss our favorite places like Three Cups Coffee and Blue Ocean Thai. But we really do not miss the drive down, and we don’t miss worrying about the boat when the Pacific Coast storms hit that area. She is safer, snugger, in her slip here in Tacoma where we can tend to her, work on her systems, and enjoy her. How did we ever spend our time before we owned a big old sailboat? I guess we just need a project.

Here are a few before and after photos of S/V Galapagos that showcase the progress we’ve made this year. It’s impossible to list all of the projects that have been completed. Refitting a sailboat is such an organic process. One thing leads to another. I’d have to keep a running list to keep track of it. And we are not organized enough for that. These are the big ones.

October 2013’s engine room.

Current version of engine room, more tweaking going on continuously.

Current version of engine room, more tweaking going on continuously.

The salon in 2013.

Salon now.

 

Workbench then.

And workbench now.

 

Anchor locker then.

Anchor locker now.

Aft cabin then.

Aft cabin now.

 

Aft head walls then.

Aft head walls now.

In the coming year we hope to add refrigeration to the boat. We would also like to do some minor remodeling of the aft cabin and the salon. I have not given up on having a settee that is easy for both of us to sit together cuddled up to watch movies and a bed that is wide enough for both of us to sleep comfortably. And, of course, we hope to get to do some sailing, too.

 

 

 

 

All I Want for Christmas Rant

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The holidays are just around the corner, bringing their yearly stress. It’s time to start thinking about what you want for Christmas. You know it’s time because Halloween is not yet over, yet the stores are already gearing up. I guess hope springs eternal for them. All I know is that our list this year is really short. In fact there is only one item on our list.

Seems like not that long ago we were here.

What I want to say is this: If Santa really loved us, he’d get those tiny reindeer hineys in gear and shimmy down our chimney early with a brand new exhaust elbow for Galapagos. Have we not been good? Have we not practiced ‘believing’ in all things seen and unseen? Are we not on Santa’s ‘Nice’ list?  Is my husband not ready to spit nails on anyone who even mentions the word ‘exhaust’ to his face? Is he not dead tired of explaining what we’re looking for? All these things are true. So I believe it’s not too much to ask that we have a new fancy pipe before Christmas. This has been the warmest, sunniest fall ever to grace the Pacific Northwest sailors and we HAVE MISSED ALL OF IT with Galapagos stuck in her slip.

Why is this happening? Why is the progress on this project so slow? Oh, gently innocent reader. We love you so. I can hear your sweet un-boat-wordly thoughts saying things like “What’s the problem?”, “I thought you had a design already.”, and “Just get a welder and you’re good to go”. Insert sound of loud maniacal laughter here. Let me ‘splain something to you. It’s not that easy. It’s. Never. That. Easy.

Did we tell you we got the cockpit floor painted? And by ‘we’, I mean Mike. That was an easy project. They do exist. And very satisfying.

We have a design. In fact, we have two.  But Mike wants to redesign the plate that attaches to the engine so that the pipe coming off has a curve in a different direction. Then the pieces need to be welded together. So we need a welder.

You’d think this would be a simple thing. Possibly it is. But it hasn’t been for us. Maybe we just don’t know how to look for one. Mike has met with numerous welders; none of them have worked out for one reason or another. The stories of why are long. There are scheduling issues, equipment issues, personality issues. Perhaps over a brew at an anchorage we can share some of these stories with you in the future. Maybe by then we’ll be able to laugh about it. For now, suffice to say we’re still looking. Tomorrow morning will find Mike making the rounds of the local muffler shops.

Keeping our eyes on the goal.

Then there is the considerable issue of working for a living. Most of the trade shops are closed on the weekend. Tacoma Diesel, who advertises being open on Saturday, is, in fact NOT open on Saturday. Ask Mike how he knows. The term ‘spitting nails’, used earlier in this post, almost adequately describes Mike’s level of frustration when he discovered this. All I can do is make soothing noises, which, in fact, probably just make it worse. Mike finally went there on a Monday. They were precious little help. I strongly suspect this job is just too small for them to take seriously. OK, maybe I’m a conspiracy theorist in disguise. But still. I have my suspicions.

Aside from the myriad number of frustrations and hard brick walls we’ve come up against with this little project, underlying all of it is the issue of trust. After the experience of finding water in the oil of our brand new engine, we’re pretty gun shy about taking chances with other people working on stuff for our boat. In the end, we will figure it out. Mike has sourced some of the parts we need. If only he didn’t have to work Monday through Friday it would probably have been done by now. Maybe we are making this too hard, but we’re waiting for our gut to say ‘yes’ to making a move. We’ve been known to do that.

Let’s go back to Sucia. So soothing.

So the story continues. You know there is much more to it than can be put in one blog post but it’s been so long since we posted anything, I felt compelled to get an update published. Be assured that we’ve followed up with Broomfields in Seattle and that has not panned out any better than Tacoma Diesel did, probably because we’re still trying to do much of this ourselves, using what we already have. Yes, we’re trying to keep costs contained and still get a good system.

Never fear, Exhaust Manifold Santa. We will not give up. We are down, but we are not beaten. We still believe in you. And our stockings are extra large this year.

We miss this guy.

Remember this guy from Bellingham? We miss him right now.

Update: Halloween. We have a welder! And we have an isolator. We should be posting the results of those two acquisitions soon.

Where Are the Wild Things?

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Got to say that as much as our recent trip to the Gulf Islands was a raging success, we were wildlife-watching failures this year. Watching wildlife both above and below the water is one of the pure joys of cruising by small boat and the southern Gulf Islands of British Columbia offer some mighty fine watching of all kinds of wild things. This year, however, the absence of some animals was more striking than the presence of others.

Vultures. We weren’t looking for them particularly, but there were lots of them.

Almost entirely missing from our trip was the ever present Bald Eagle. I was dead disappointed about this, if not downright perplexed.  I have a soft spot for eagles, considering them a special totem and I believe their presence to be an auspicious sign (except, perhaps, for their prey)  Symbolic of the archetype of Freedom (among other things) the far-sighted eagle portends good things when I spot one as a trip begins.  Six Bald eagles circled above Galapagos, talking back and forth to each other, the day we first splashed her with her new engine. So if that doesn’t prove their worth, I don’t know what does.

The magical- thinking creature inside me was perplexed, and then alarmed, as  days went by without even one small eagle sighting; not even a tiny flash of white feathered head. By the time we got to the islands, I was seriously concerned. I began looking with concerted effort, but every sentinel tree remained unoccupied, every craggy rocky outcropping was left unguarded. I wondered if the spirit of the eagle was, perhaps, leaving me. I tried to come to some acceptance, pretending to be all Zen about it, but really, I would feel the loss keenly. I’m kind of attached to their majesty and all.

No eagles at home here on Kuper Island.

Then I thought, ‘Get a grip, Melissa! This is more than just one totem going out and another still to emerge! Surely there is something in the world of… I don’t know.. maybe SCIENCE…that is happening here?’  And finally it hit me. This is September. We’ve always traveled in June, July, or August, so we’ve never been up in the islands this late. Isn’t there something about spawning salmon and rivers and eagles and migration and feeding that goes on this time of year? And yes, apparently there is. And I knew this but didn’t put it together at first. I’m slow, but I eventually get there, one synapse at a time.

This dog, Arch, liked to play 'stick'. He guards the dock at the Montague Harbor Marina.

This dog, Arch, liked to play ‘stick’. He guards the dock at the Montague Harbor Marina.

The eagles migrate this time of year to an annual eagle convention of the ‘Order of the Running Salmon’, or probably something like that. I’ll bet they feast, they celebrate, maybe wear funny hats and do secret handshakes, all the stuff.  Basically, it’s a huge eagle party. The Fraser River boasts that it’s the biggest gathering of eagles in the world. Seems like it’s a little early, but where else could they go?

So the eagles were not at home. It was a great relief to me to understand what was happening, but I really missed seeing them very much. Those bare trees just look undressed without an eagle to sit in them. And who knows what shenanigans happen on unguarded rocky outcroppings!  In the end, I spotted exactly two eagles, both on the west coast of San Juan Island on our very last day before heading home. They were close together, in fact, two flickers of white among all the green of the trees. Perhaps these eagles didn’t get the memo. Or perhaps they were being shunned; all dressed up with no where to go.

Don and his friend, Maxie. We enjoy the dogs of others while we’re cruising because Skippy hates the boat. Maxie was tired of talking and wanted to go ashore on Kuper Island.

More serious in its absence was the purple and orange sea star. There were exactly 3. In all. Three starfish in all, each of them in the tidal zone of Kuper Island.  Five years ago there would have been hundreds of starfish at any anchorage.  Our starfish are dying. Some scientists think we may lose them altogether. I hope they can come back from this wasting disease because their loss is tragic.  This, from my trip diary:

We both turned in early last night, just after sunset and moonrise. Full moon. This morning I had a nice paddle out to the light on the east side of Portland Island, then around Chad Island where I looked for more seastars and was disappointed to find none. I did see some small ones, the pale pink kind that have short and stubby arms, and also a large tunicate, but none of the ubiquitous big orange and purple stars that have always delighted me and brightened up the tidal zones.  These give such childlike pleasure in their perfect formation and gaudy colors. They look straight from the Crayola Big Box. They are sorely missed and remind me that the beauty of the natural world cannot be isolated from its animals.

This photo was taken last year at Kuper Island. Just last year there were many sea stars in the tidal zone there. This year there were two. 

No sea stars, no eagles. It was mightily discouraging and we had also seen no whales. We decided to rectify that situation. You want to see the Orcas? Go to Haro Strait in the late afternoon/early evening and look for the whale boats. They have some kind of secret way of knowing where the Orcas are feeding. There’s no guarantee, of course, but we’ve had good luck spotting them by making sure we’re in that area in the early evening. We sailed into the north part of the strait around 4:00 in the afternoon and started scanning with the binoculars. Bingo. Right off the coast of D’Arcy Island, a Prince of Whales boat just sitting in place. That means they are watching whales.

Hiram roared to life and we jigged on over in that direction mighty quick. Staying well clear we still got a magnificent view. A large male, two females, and a baby! We were able to watch them from a distance as we went back north to Stuart Island for the night. They stopped to rest at the surface, maybe tending to the young calf, by Sidney Island, then continued north. All’s right with our world when we see the whales, but keep a good thought for our sea stars.

Taken with my zoom lens, of course.

Just a small spy hop.

The little one is to the right.