Next, Leave Puget Sound

To put our cunning cruising plan into action, first, we had to leave the dock. Check that off the list.  We left the dock and our heavy marina fees far behind three weeks ago. Other cruisers told us that leaving the dock was the hardest part of cruising. Once you had dropped the docklines, you were supposed to be golden. You had done it! You were now cruising! Are we cruisers yet?

A day in Tacoma to see some tall ships. We’re not all work around here!

In our case leaving the marina was the easy part. Turns out the hard part is going to be leaving this geographic area. We have to actually find a convenient time to travel north, pass Seattle to starboard, and continue on to cross the Strait of Juan de Fuca and right up into Canada, as was our plan. So far, we are still here.

We are currently comfortably anchored in Gig Harbor working on the fix to our aft cabin. Let me share with you how this repair is going. Our approach is one of sloth.

World’s largest rubber duck photo bombing the Foss Waterway.

When we were working fools all boat work projects had to be squeezed into weekends and evenings, so basically we made hay while the sun shone and hoped we could get a bunch done all at once. Suddenly, with the quitting of our day jobs, now all we have is time. With our new schedule, we’ve decided that accomplishing one small thing per day is fine. This new approach comes smack up against our well-ingrained work ethic. It’s like we’ve very suddenly forgotten that we are hard workers. And yet…well, here’s how our progress has looked:

Monday: Made cardboard pattern for replacing part of bulkhead. Called it a day. Went for walk in Gig Harbor. Ate food. Regretted it.

Tuesday: Napped and read books. Piddled around in the harbor doing nothing in particular. Went on walk. Spyed on neighboring boats with small binoculars. Serious cockpit lounging.

Wednesday: A banner day! My sister picked us up and took us to Mitchell’s Lumber in Belfair. Bought marine plywood for repair. Brought wood back to her place and used brother-in-law Darin’s tools to cut wood to fit space. Exhausted from this effort, called it a day. Hung around with her family. Played badminton; badly.

Thursday: Mixed thickened epoxy and used a large syringe to fill gap between bulkhead and coach roof. Made it smooth. Called it a day. Ordered replacement winch parts and a few other things on Amazon. Went kayaking.

Friday: Mixed more epoxy and filled gaps. Coated replacement piece of plywood with epoxy. Made thicker epoxy with adhesive filler and set that piece in place. Braced it with boat hooks which, wedged between bulkhead and cabinet, provided just the right amount of pressure. Swooning from effort, wiped our brows, called it a day. Went to have dinner with our kids. Mike’s birthday. Celebrated with cake.

Yes, it’s in Gig Harbor. Why bother going all the way to Italy.?

Today we might have the wherewithall to replace the piece of plywood we removed from the adjacent wall. We’ll mix more epoxy to coat the edges. The day after that we might be able to do the final piece which will finish the structural repair inside, except for the finish work such as trim and paint.

I’m pretty certain that at this breakneck pace we’ll have this repair completed by our July 10 date with Mr. Fiberglass Guy down in Olympia. We figured we would be able to cut loose from south Puget Sound right after the fiberglass repair was done and the mizzen mast replaced.

But, alas, we may not reach escape velocity even then. There is a garden party at our house for all the people who couldn’t go to Scotland for Claire and Dan’s wedding. It’s scheduled for July 22 and I don’t really want to miss it. Since we’ll likely be in Olympia through July 15 or so, it’s not asking too much to stay a little longer for the party.  After that, we should be good. Maybe that will be our fond farewell to friends and family?  No plans are ever firm anymore.

Sailboats race around the anchorage on Thursday nights.

Meanwhile, we live in Gig Harbor for awhile, seeing this town in a whole new way.  In terms of anchorages, it’s really great. The dinghy dock is safe, there is a regular Trolley that goes to the shopping district, and the harbor is filled with all varieties of interesting boats from big powerboats to lovely sailboats, even a real gondola from Italy. There are good restaurants and coffee shops nearby and lots of streets to explore to get our walks in. We’ve discovered a few small things that need fixing, now that we are using all the boat systems away from the dock,  and it’s a convenient place from which to order parts while we can still have them delivered to us at the house. In all, we can stay here happily for awhile.

Eventually we will make our way north with the continued plan to head south about the time the Coho ho ho goes south, which is the end of August-early September.  We won’t be joining the Ho Ho, but we will leave around the same time, depending on weather, of course.

I Am Not A Monster!

I knew we had a problem in the aft cabin. Our bed is crazy comfortable, I gave up on ‘special’ sheets cut to fit the mattresses, and never looked back. We figured out where to put the laundry basket. Both of us have barely enough room for our clothing, And by ‘both of us’ I mean me. Mike has plenty of room because he basically has one pair of shorts that I practically forced him to buy. All of these potential issues had been dealt with and were behind us. But still, a major problem was brewing; a problem I thought I had solved earlier in the day, a problem I believed I had successfully avoided. I was wrong.

One of our new paper charts of the Sea of Cortex.

I was in the head doing my evening ablutions, a routine that has actually grown more complex with moving onto the boat while simultaneouly discovering (because of our Claire)  Korean skin care products.  So many steps to smooth, younger looking skin. Interesting aside, my hair routine has decreased well past what I used to accomplish in grade school. I have no excuse. Anyway, I  finished up the final greasing and stepped into the cabin. Mike was cozy on his side of the bed already.

In the dusky cabin light he looked up at me, love (I thought) in his eyes, and took my hand, pulling me over. I thought to my self, ‘OH, he knows how hard this day was, being my last day of work and all. He’s going to be extra lovey tonight. Such a sweet man. He turned his dear face up to mine, pulled me down, and whispered in my ear,

“You are a terrible, horrible person.”.  Whatt???? Startled I pull back. I was alarmed!  We don’t do that kind of stuff in the bedroom. We’re middle aged, for god’s sake!

Confused, I look around, feeling guilty for absolutely no reason at all! I mean it! I had done nothing!  “What? Why? Why am I a terrible, horrible person? Uh uh… I’m not!”

“Nine pairs!  You have NINE PAIRS OF SHOES!”

UH. OH. I was afraid he’d notice that. This stupid living on the sailboat thing. There is just NO privacy! Whose idea was this, anyway?

“Well, let me explain. Yes, it’s true there are nine pair of SANDALs in my new shoe rack. But technically, those are ‘sandals’, not ‘shoes’. My actual shoes are stored somewhere else.  I’m just getting USED to the idea of getting rid of more of them and I’ve had most of them for a long, long time, and you know how I feel about special shoes, and, well, I’m always worried that my feet will hurt and that I will not have enough arch support. Plus the shoes I’m wearing lately I won’t even be able to take with me because I’ve worn them so much they actually have a HOLE in the toe! A HOLE! In the TOE! I will have to throw out my lovely Coach black calf skin driving moccasins with the grippy soles that I can actually wear comfortably with no socks. ”

No response. He just looked at me, limpid blue steel peering up from the depths of his pillow. I had not reached his cold, closed heart and he was still clutching my hand most willfully. My distraction had fallen on the ice of his resolve. Hateful man. Wicked. Had he no pity left? I tried again.

Sigh. “Yes, I know. Just give me a couple of days to figure out which ones need to be executed. The J-41s with the Jeep Tough soles and the strappy velcro straps? One of the TWO pair of identical Teva sandals that I’ve walked miles in already? They know my feet so well! The slide on Sketchers, which, while not even a brand I particularly like, are comfortable and look decent with a sundress? The Nike flip flops with the cushy sole so soft you don’t even know you’re wearing them? Finally a pair of flip flops that don’t hurt between my toes! You see, I know them all personally and they’ve cared for my feet so well. It’s hard. I’m sure I can find some to kill, I mean, throw into the trash to be compacted and wasted and add to the growing problem with garbage in this country. ”

His eyes narrowed to slits. He gripped my hand painfully.

I knew what the real problem was. It was jealously. You see, I had created these cool little niches in which to stack sandals upright, using the spaces created by the ladder against the bulkhead in the aft cabin. (It’s impossible to use that ladder. It is narrow and goes straight up. You need the adrenaline of an actual emergency to use it. For that purpose, it will continue to serve.) He wanted one of those spaces, and I willingly, out of the generousness of my heart, gave it to him for his shoes.

There were only two problems with this. First, he has only 4 pair of footwear, two of which he will absolutely never, ever wear in Mexico. They are leather, and they are hot. These are Pacific Northwest shoes.

So that leaves one pair of sandals, which I remember I almost forced him to buy by constantly bringing up the fact that he had no sandals and pointing out to him how hot his feet will be. Obviously! And he has one pair of canvas boat shoes. Again, these will not only be hot, I predict they will begin to smell, meaning no way will they see storage in the aft cabin.

 

There’s room for a third pocket below. I may find shoes I love in Mexico. You never know.

I’ve been stockpiling Mexico sandals for years in ANTICIPATION of needing them.  I call that good planning. Other people can use whatever words they want to. Sure people in Mexico wear sandals and I could buy some there. But WHAT KIND? Hmmm? Do they have the kind I like? Yeah! I don’t know! And you don’t know either, mister. There are some things we just don’t leave to chance, and those things are shoes!

Second, Mike’s shoes are too big for the space. They do not fit! Is it my fault that he has long, thin man feet, not short, small little cute feet whose shoes fit perfectly into a small niche created with fabric? I mean, this clears out the shoe cubby under the drawers,  mostly for him. You’d think he’d be grateful!

Would you call your wife a terrible, horrible human being because of shoes? Well, if you would, you guys can just get together and cry into your beer together. I’ll get rid of more shoes when I’m danged ready. I’ll be ready on Sunday. That’s right. I will get rid of more on Sunday if I feel like it. I’ll let you know.

 

 

Fun With Finishes: Shabby to Chic

Remember two years ago when I posted the first Fun with Finishes blog post? I was able to turn a fairly disgusting aft bathroom into a warm and inviting space by using the cheap trick of interior latex paint. That finish has remained perfect for over 2 years now. It has worn well, has been easy to clean, and has withstood a constant leak from the mizzen mast area above it for this entire winter. Really. There is nothing like an almost constant trickle of water sliding down the wall to a) call attention to the fact it’s time to get serious about fixing that leak and b) put your wall finish to the test. I’m pretty impressed.

This finish, still perfect after over 2 years.

So when we decided to redo our galley, that was a good time to take the 1974 fiberglass  interior under my wing and give it a facelift. Our interior fiberglass is what I like to call ‘almond ugly’. It’s like a color that isn’t sure what it wants to be. It makes no statement of its identity whatsoever.  It’s not really almond in color, but it’s not really cream either, or white, or even yellow. I don’t think they make this color in 2017. Whatever it is, it’s sad and tired and I am having none of it anymore. Turns out, it’s really easy to change!

If you have a boat that needs an interior facelift, let me save you a lot of time and money. Painting fiberglass is not nearly the difficult thing it sounds like. I started my education for his project in the Sherwin Williams store where I bought a ‘special’ kind of Extreme Bonding Primer that allows you to paint over slick surfaces, like glass even, without sanding ‘most clean surfaces’.

Now, let me go on record as saying that I never believe that kind of bull doggy. There is never a time that I would consider painting a slick surface without sanding. But I was sold on the primer for some reason. Twenty dollars later, I had a quart of stuff I didn’t need. But whatever. I just saved you from a special trip to the Sherwin Williams store.

Sanded and taped and ready to paint.

I started out using the bonding primer but I was actually kind of unimpressed and didn’t see the point. It was thin, and I couldn’t tell whether it was actually helping the paint adhere better than just painting with no primer. So I moved to using some Zinsser primer for all surfaces. Why? Because we already had it and I’ve used it before with good results. I liked the feel of it going on the fiberglass better. No real hard data there, just that it was more satisfying to brush on, had more body to it somehow. It gave better coverage. So I went with that.

As in all painting projects, preparation is the key and I did not skimp on the sanding part of the prep. I started with a fairly coarse grit and the electric sander, attached to our shopvac. I ended with wet sanding using a finer grit. I used 220 because it’s what I had. Works great. I recommend the wet sanding when you are working inside a boat. It keeps the dust down. After sanding, give everything a bit of a wipe down with acetone.

In addition to the sanding, our fiberglass had a number of small holes from screws from previous owners over the years. I filled those holes with epoxy putty; the kind that is like clay that you work with your fingers until it’s mixed. That works great for filling holes as long as you use a product that says you can sand it smooth. The key, I found, is to over fill the hole a bit, then when it is partially set, carefully use a razor blade flat against the fiberglass to cut the excess off the top. You won’t have much sanding to do after that.

Taping off is critical and I used the blue painter’s tape that allegedly gives you a good clean line. It actually did what it said it would. I got nice clean lines where I taped against unpainted fiberglass areas.  I taped off everything because I didn’t want to have to remove all the trim. Most of it is screwed and glued and is a pain to take off. The tape was sufficient.

After sanding, taping, and priming, I was ready for the fun part.

Salon in ‘Rice Paddy’ green.

The green against the grey.

For color, I wanted bright and cheerful without being overbearing. Taking note of colors in our salon and on our new formica, I chose a cool, pale “Nantucket Grey” (by Dutch Boy) for the galley and navigation area. For the salon, I chose “Rice Paddy” (Sherwin Williams) a springy green color. In the sleeping cabins I went for soothing “Watery” (Sherwin Williams), a gentle cool blue. Aside: How can I get a job naming paint colors?

After priming, the painting is a no-brainer. I used at least three coats everywhere. After the paint had dried for several days, I put on the final finishing coat. This is what I believe helps this finish stand up over time. I know that without this last step, my bathroom wall would never had stood up to the continual drip drip rivulet of water from the leak under our mast. (Getting repaired at haulout in June.)

At this point, you’ll be chomping at the bit to pull the tape off your project. But beware, my padawan!! Beware! Don’t just go ripping off the tape. Your paint has now dried over the edges in some places. If you do not want to risk messing up the paint job, you’ll use a razor blade to cut through the layers of paint along the edge of that tape.

Aft cabin in ‘Watery’ blue.

Now here’s a kick in the pants for you: you can save even more money and time by skipping the primer altogether if you do a good sanding job. How do I know this? Because I accidentally skipped it in the salon in one area. The paint was going on smoothly and grabbing the fiberglass just fine. I didn’t realize I had forgotten the primer until I had finished two coats. At that point, I wasn’t going to sand that paint off. So I left it. A couple of weeks later, can’t tell the difference. Unless it suddenly starts peeling off great swathes of paint, I’m going to say you can skip the primer if you are thorough in sanding.

The final finish is a coat or two of Minwax Spar Urethane Indoor/Outdoor Clear Gloss Varnish. It needs to be the kind the dries clear, not amber, unless the amber works for you. I needed it to be clear, so I had the paint department at the local hardware store open the container so I could check. And, of course, I chose gloss but you could go with satin. The point is that this puts a hard protective coating over your paint. It’s another layer of protection in a tough environment.

Galley in ‘Nantucket Grey’. You can see the ‘almond ugly’ in Mike’s shop. I haven’t decided if I will do his shop, but i probably will extend the grey into that area.

Because the spaces are so small, this project turned out to be much easier and less time consuming than I feared. Cheap, easy, and pleasing to the eye. This project is a definite win.