Author Archives: Melissa

Good Boat!

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We know you’ve been dying to find out how the engine performed on our trip; how that exhaust elbow stood up. Did Mike and Melissa do boat work in exotic places in British Columbia? Did the Little Cunning Plan team have to use their new unlimited towing through Boat U.S.? Did Mike perseverate on the exhaust system?  The answers are yes, no, and yes. Two yesses and a no, because we are resourceful and do our best to be prepared.

Scenes like this make boat travel worth the risk.

In this case, I was dead anxious about taking this boat very far from home with an exhaust system that was sure to fail…sometime. On the other hand, we had been taking the boat out in our local waters as much as we could, and thus far the stupid exhaust had held its ground. Which means it wasn’t broke, so why would we fix it? Still, even as we wanted to believe that it would hold for a long time, we weren’t convinced.

“What’s our Plan B?” , I asked Mike before we left.  So he made a plan. He’s cunning like that.

Before we left for the trip he stocked a repair kit of sorts consisting of supplies he got at the auto parts store. He bought a fiberglass/epoxy and wire muffler repair kit. To this he added a steel collar that could be bolted onto the pipe to hold pieces together should things go south. My contribution was a magnifying glass and a lot of praying. Our goal: have as much fun as possible before the shit hits the fan and also keep Hiram safe. 

Don’t think that my light tone implies that we didn’t take the risks seriously. We certainly did. But if you are going to have a boat and do the things we like to do with a boat, calculated risks are part of that equation. We figured we would be pushing the engine and the exhaust system pretty hard on that trip. If it failed, we’d just get it repaired wherever we were. If it didn’t fail, then we would stop worrying about it.

I had my little magnifying glass out each day, examining the weld all the way around. Days went by and I saw nothing. Then one day I thought I saw what looked like a fine pencil marking, so faint I couldn’t tell if I was actually seeing it. I talked myself out of telling Mike, thinking that it was nothing, truly not even sure it was there. That’s how faint it was, and how bad my eyes are, I guess. Mike checked with his bare eyeballs every day, or every few hours actually. We were both attentive to engine noise, always waiting for something to change. It sounds worse than it was. We just kept part of our brains in that ‘awareness’ mode you all know and love. Kind of like when you first bring a baby home and every time you walk by the crib you make sure the kid is breathing. That kind of thing.

View from under the hard dodger.

It happened when we were anchored at that lovely little beach on Kuper Island, about two days after I thought I saw what I thought wasn’t actually there. It was a Sunday. Mike went below and this time his silence just sounded different. You know, no cursing or anything like we’d had before. Just this silence that was deafening in its own way. I don’t know how I knew. I just knew.

It was cracked in the same place. Not completely broken yet, but soon it would be. Of course, we were pretty close to services where we were. There would be Ladysmith just across the water, Sidney wasn’t very far, and Maple Bay has services a well. We were not exactly in the middle of nowhere. There was a couple on a Cal 29 anchored close by who offered us the use of their car on Salt Spring Island if we needed it. We probably could have just had it fixed there. But we didn’t.

View from Sidney Spit

Mike whipped out the epoxy/fiberglass tape bandage and wrapped the thing carefully. I put on the receiving wire, which was kind of like jewelry wire only heavier so my hands knew what to do. When the epoxy cured, Mike put on the steel collar for extra holding power.

Our original travel itinerary had us going north of Gabriola Island and sailing down the Strait of Georgia. I felt strongly that karma would not deal kindly with us if we threw fortune in her face like that. It just felt like pushing our luck. So I kind of sort of insisted that we go south and start back home. We wouldn’t go home early, but we would stay close to services should we need them. Poor Mike. I felt as though I had rained on his very parade. We would have actually made it to someplace we hadn’t been before. We so want to go further north. But it was not to be.

Staged for purposes of photo because Mike had already removed it once.

Staged for purposes of photo because Mike had already removed it by the time I remembered a photo was needed.

We sailed down to Portland Island, using the engine as little as possible. Hey, babying your engine is a great way to practice your sailing skills. When we had the engine on we kept him at just the right RPM to minimize vibration. I love Portland Island, and we had a great day of sailing. So that was okay by us. We had the perfect anchorage there and settled in for a couple of days.

After our Portland Island stay, we had just enough time for a stop in Sidney to restock, then it was time to get home. We check in to Roche Harbor and began the trip back to Tacoma, again, sailing as much as possible. But damn that thing called a ‘job’, we did have a deadline for making it back.  So Hiram was fired up much of the way. Mike tested the integrity of the exhaust elbow constantly. If it was cool enough to the touch, he was testing it.  It held and held and held.

We arrived in Tacoma on Sunday afternoon after a wonderful, fulfilling trip to the islands. We docked that boat perfectly. We got her tied up and situated while the engine cooled off. Mike went below to check on Hiram. And the elbow broke. It broke all the way, as in ‘two pieces’. I am not making this up. That boat got us home with a cracked exhaust all the way from Kuper Island. It didn’t actually break in two until we were snugly, safely in our slip in the marina. Hiram was safe.

Good boat. Really good boat.

A really Good Boat.

 

How to Gain Two Sizes in Two Weeks the Easy Way

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When we go on vacation, we take a vacation from everything including cell phones, laptops, and reasonable diets. If you want to gain weight really fast, live on a boat for two weeks. I know, it’s counter-intuitive. One would think with all that glowing exercise, weight would simply peel off.  If you believe that, I have some property in Florida…  No, my friends. Sailing the Gulf Islands consists of short bursts of activity and ladder climbing interspersed with hours of reading, sleeping and eating. There is the occasional hike, or slow perambulation. Falling into the water doesn’t count as an activity. This is a recipe for disaster but it sure is delicious.

After our circum-perambulation of Portland Island.

After our circum-perambulation of Portland Island.

First, there is the alcohol. At home, a mixed drink is a rarity. It would be empty carbs. Plain and simple. But somehow in my mind, ‘vacation’ is the same as ‘celebration’ and there is delicious vodka left over from Claire’s ‘Welcome Home’ party, so it goes on the boat. Here is my recipe for the perfect Lemon/Lime Drop Martini in case you, too, could use a couple of extra inches around the gut.

1 part vodka (or 1 cup, if you will)
1 part lemon or lime juice (another cup)
½ part sugar syrup (1/2 a cup)
½ part Triple Sec (another 1/2 a cup)
ice; Shake shake shake  Pour into tumbler. Repeat. Serves two, sort of.

While you are drinking that, let’s talk about what to make for dinner. Galapagos has no refrigeration yet. But we like cold drinks and fresh fruits and vegetables. So we use the fridge as an icebox. Just like at home, as foods begin to ‘need cooking’  we get a little creative with our combinations. When the broccoli began to scream for attention, I whipped this up in a hurry.  I wonder if it would be just as good without the potatoes, which I never even think about cooking with at home. Naw. It probably wouldn’t.

Eggless Skillet Fry

Fresh-ish broccoli
1/2 onion, chopped or sliced
some small orange and red peppers, or large ones – whatever you have handy
hash browns left over from breakfast
bacon – because it makes every single thing better

Fry bacon in skillet, extra crisp, remove bacon and set aside. Leave the fat in the skillet. Why waste a good thing? Stir fry vegetables on terribly hot.  Salt and pepper for flavor. Less salt, due to bacon. At last minute add rehydrated hash browns, stir fry until hot, then add crumbled bacon. Serve. Outstanding after a long day of motoring and sitting on your hind end, especially if dinner at 9:00 pm, just before bed. Maybe add a few red pepper flakes? Don’t blame me if you need larger pants after this. I warned you fair and square. For dessert? Fresh fruit and yogurt. One needs to make some sort of effort here.

Island Bounty

On the lighter side, sometimes when hiking you can take advantage of the bounty of nature. Such is the case on Portland Island, where there is an old orchard, and loads of blackberry bushes.  There is something about harvesting fruit like this that is soul satisfying. I look forward to Portland Island every year, partly because of the berry/orchard combination. We ate blackberries fat and juicy from the vine.

Beautiful apples from Portland Island. Organic, delicious.

This year, the apples were almost completely ripe. If we had longer sticks, the riper ones at the top of the tree would have been within reach. As it was, I had a longish piece of driftwood to use, left thoughtfully at the base of a tree by another scavenger. I filled my bag with apples, stuffed a few into Mike’s backpack. My plan: applesauce.

Portland Island Applesauce

As many apples as you can carry
Water
Sweetener of choice – honey, sugar, stevia, whatever

Cut up the apples, put them in your large pot. Add water about 1/2 way up the apples. Cook until the consistency you adore. Add sweeteners as it cools. You can also add spices such as cinnamon and cloves.

Ready for sweeteners.

 I discovered that, unlike my supermarket variety of apples, these have LOTS of pectin in them. They would make a fabulous pie (next year). So you may have to keep adding water as they cook. If you go to Portland Island in the late summer or fall, bring some canning supplies, or at least a pie crust.

Here’s one thing I did with this applesauce:

Peanut Butter Applesauce Spread

A cup of warm applesauce
1/4 cup, or whatever, peanut butter

Mix well with a spoon. Lick spoon. Delicious on crackers of any variety.

The bounty of the land! I will bring more jars next year. And maybe my canning pot.

Best Tacos Ever

Recently, we were nominated for the Liebster Award and we had to name our favorite restaurant. I’d like to correct my answer. I now consider Village Tacos, on Galiano Island to be my favorite restaurant.  Who needs Mexico when it comes to great tacos?

We discovered this little gem during a long walk down the main road from the marina. There was this place, set back from the road, that was a house that looked like it had an outdoor dining room. This little sign was by the side of the road:

Who could resist this?

From my notes in the Cruising 2014 diary: It’s a ‘farm to table’ place and all the food is fresh, local, whole, and delicious. I had the buttermilk chicken tacos, Mike chose the chorizo tacos. We had bay laurel iced tea – delicious tea with a bay laurel leaf in the glass. I would not think of this but it was lovely. The chips were crisp and thin, made there. The salsa thick and spicy. Not too hot. Hand made corn tortillas, thin, and delicious, full of ripe corn flavor. I don’t know about Mexico, but Galiano Island is now famous to me for its tacos.

Just the right combination of tastes and textures, with a beautiful presentation.

Want to know what else they have?

And the service is also excellent.

This was our one and only ‘eating out’ during the trip. So worth it, and probably the healthiest meal I had in two weeks. Now that we are back to our regular lives, the piper must be paid. Ugh. Back to the old ‘being careful’.  In my next life, I plan to have a high metabolism, be naturally thin, and love all forms of tortuous exercise. I can’t wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes from the 2014 Cruising Diary: On Personal Flotation Devices

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Some days you get to test that little auto-inflate canister in the life preserver to see if it works. Ask me how I know. Okay, I’ll tell you. It happened at Kuper Island. I give it to you straight from my notes from that day.

On the way to Bergoyne Bay

Saturday, Sept 6, 2014 This is not a day for sailing. It is a day for motoring and charging the batteries. Destination Kuper Island;  the lovely sandstone beach we visited last year. We anchor just off that beach in 25 feet of water. I let the dinghy down to go rowing, go ashore and take photos.

Easy rowing on flat water, no turbulence.  I thoughtfully put my camera in a waterproof bag. I remember the water being quite warm here last year.  This year I have a swimsuit. Going for a swim would be fun tomorrow. The universe has other plans for me.

Portland Island

I tie up the dinghy to the swimstep. Stow the oars. Place my camera bag on the swim step and notice that the ladder has not been deployed so is too high. Holding onto the step, I begin to get up to let it fall into the water.

How is this happening? The dinghy is out from under me, I am stepping on the gunwale, and then watching in horror as the gunwale sinks beneath the waves and I am in the sea, still holding onto that swim step. I feel the water seep through my clothes and am amazed that it isn’t too cold; actually quite refreshing on this hot day. I cannot believe it. Maybe I am in shock already.

 I am relieved the life jacket has not deployed because I don’t need it. But just as I think that it pops open. First one side, then the other. My neck now in traction,  I am a cork with a head and two arms flailing around. Swimming in an inflatable life jacket is ridiculous. A big white jelly fish approaches me in a determined manner. I fling my arm out at it, waving it away. It tries to approach from the rear. I spin in the water, kicking ineffectively at the creature, a bobbing stooge ninja. It retreats, waving menacing tentacles, ghostly in the green sea. I see sunlight shining through its body. It is beautiful. 

Mike, examining the sandstone at Portland Island

I grab one flipflop floating by, yelling for Mike. His preternaturally good hearing works so well. Usually. But not when I’m in the water behind Galapagos, down low. I can see the exhaust pipe above my head. I feel happy that the engine is not running.  The dinghy is upside down, floating with all the oars, portable bilge pump, and square flotation device we keep there. No sharks in sight. Do we even have those here? I manage to get the ladder down, but I can’t handle the upturned dinghy. It is dead weight in the water. An island of heavy white gleaming dully in the brilliant sun.

 I yell for Mike. What the hell is he doing in there anyway? I bang on the hull. He appears, a bit nonplussed but calm in the face of a wet wife, treading water underneath a firmly engaged turgid yellow flotation device, fending off determined sea creatures. How did this happen, he asks. Seriously? 

The offending dinghy, ‘Tortoise’.

I remember my hearing aids.  I hand them to Mike to open and lay in the sun. I will clean them with alcohol.  I realize the top of my head is actually dry; most of my hair is dry, I have no water in my eyes. I must have been holding onto the swim step the entire time, never submerging completely. I hope they will be okay.  Damn the things!  I get dead tired of having to be troubled by them. Why can’t my ears just work right, for the love of Jesus?  

The davits, once again, worth their weight in gold. Mike is able to use one of the davit winches to pull the dinghy up. There is a gentle whooshing noise as the seal with the water gives way. I easily recover the items that had been trapped beneath.  What they say about Walker Bay is true. They are unsinkeable. As am I, riding each wave, facing the sky. I can barely move, much less propel myself with any accuracy. Ralphy, without snow.  I am wearing a sundress. Guess where that ends up? Who cares? This is British Columbia. No one knows me here anyhow. The jelly fish has given up. I think about staying in the water longer. 

Kuper Island, later that evening.

  I climb the ladder to the boat and prepare to rinse off with fresh water. I strip off the wet salty clothes and leave them on the deck. I can’t bring myself to remove my underwear while on deck. This isn’t Europe for Christ’s sake.  No salt water below. I think about how when we are in warmer climates we will have to be aware of this kind of thing. Salt water on the upholstery will make it always feel damp.  I hate that. No salt water on clothes below deck. Now it’s a rule.

I clean the hearing aids. They still work. No harm, no foul. I am completely uninjured without so much as a bruise. Except to my ego. But cruising will get you used to that in a hurry. 

Sandstone formation on Kuper Island.

Sandstone formation on Kuper Island.