Category Archives: Danger Kitten

Official Diagnosis: Crazy-Pants

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I should simply have left the country for this part of the boat selling process. It has been determined that I am constitutionally unable to keep my heart from interfering with the whole thing. It could look to outsiders as though I am still too attached to Moonrise to part with her, but I don’t think so.  I think the reasons have just as much to do with fear of making the wrong choices, with knowing the future is filled with unlimited possibilities, and with always looking for the ‘why’ in the things that happen. Oh, for sure, sometimes I am just too ‘deep’ for my own good, you know? Some of us around here, and I am naming no names, simply think TOO MUCH. As Freud said, sometimes a sex dream is just a sex dream (or something like that). And I will not even go there. But I do wish all the voices in my head would be on the same page.

Andrew was with us when we sailed Moonrise home from her moorage in Olympia.

Andrew was with us when we sailed Moonrise home from her moorage in Olympia.

It all started with two things: finding out through our bank that we could actually borrow the money for a boat without having to put anything down (never mind all you financial geniuses out there who have just sucked in your collective breaths), and hearing my son say these words, “I have been in some scary situations with Danger Kitten. She’s a really lightweight boat for the winds in Bellingham.”. My mother’s heart opened the door to fear for my son. Profound fear. The kind that makes me really focused, really fast, and not necessarily in a good way.

And before you suck in your breath yet again and utter words such as ‘these are learning situations’, ‘sounds like he is getting good sailing experience’, or anything of that ilk, let me remind you that you do not know my son. Or his history. When he was a child, we quickly recognized that it was our job to keep this kid from doing something that would have life altering, if not life stopping, consequences. This is a kid who wanted to build a metal forge in the backyard at age 7. And he did it. This is a kid who spent years of his life making things that would shoot other things. I know that many little boys, and some girls, like to shoot things. But when I say my kid’s drive was extreme, that it included making his own pressurized airguns, and that it included building huge medieval siege weapons in our back yard (and they were accurate and worked!), you will simply need to believe me. There was no way to stop him without killing his spirit. And we knew what we were watching was a very potentially dangerous kind of genius. Dangerous to himself. We focused on doing our best to keep him safe, and we said ‘no’. A lot.

Andrew has many fond memories of sailing Saucy Sue, our Catalina 27

Andrew has many fond memories of sailing Saucy Sue, our Catalina 27.

And we failed. We failed completely. He had a very bad accident when he was 12 and was being creative. It had life altering consequences, although you could never tell by looking at him. And apparently I have still not forgiven myself for that. I thought I had, but clearly not. Because when Andrew talked about how his little boat responds to the high winds on Bellingham Bay, I began to get afraid for him, even though I know he is a cautious sailor. Ironically, it was his bad accident that got our family into sailing in the first place. I do not want that irony to become a bitter one.

So when he began to make noises about wishing he had chosen a heavier boat (which, by the way was my advice from the beginning), I began to think about how we could make that happen so that he would be safer and I could sleep at night and not worry about him. We bought him that boat, like I bought him the supplies that ended up hurting him at age 12. He named the boat Danger Kitten. Do you get it?

Danger Kitten. As clean as boat as you could ever hope to find on Craigslist.

Danger Kitten. As clean as boat as you could ever hope to find on Craigslist.

Please do not bother me with your rational thinking processes. I’m a mother. If rationality had anything to do with it, I would never have given birth in the first place.  I know that many good things have happened both in spite of and because of that accident. Yes, we do know how to make lemonade from lemons. I know Andrew did not let that stop him from living a full and enjoyable life. It did not take away his courage for living.  I know we would never have discovered a love of sailing had we not been compelled to bring our family together after such an experience.  I also know that his being safe in this world is not up to me, or his dad, or even his sister anymore. But at the end of the day, I am just grateful I have my son all in one piece.

So, this is where the whole life view thing comes in and the whole ‘looking at the possibilities’ comes it. I began to wonder if the reason we didn’t yet have a buyer for  Moonrise might be because we needed to let Andrew use that boat while he was up in Bellingham, and then sell it later. Since Moonrise is paid for, and we don’t technically need to sell her in order to buy another boat, it seemed to make a lot of sense. Like a car that’s paid for, that boat is worth more to us than it’s going to be worth to anyone else. We know that boat inside and out. We know it’s as safe a boat as you can get for the kind of sailing we do around here. He could safely take that boat up to British Columbia, or even Alaska. We know it handles great. Moorage for Moonrise would be only a little bit more than moorage for Danger Kitten. You see how that thought process quickly got out of control.

Mike and Andrew on Moonrise, a fun and safer boat in wind such as this.

Mike and Andrew on Moonrise, a fun and safer boat in wind such as this.

Generally Mike and I can rely on each other in terms of talking off ledges. But this time, I must have been fairly persuasive, and, of course, Mike gets afraid for Andrew, too. In times like these we become like boats that are so heavy they cannot sail out of their own way. Tired of the drama of all the boat things going on at once, he took Moonrise for a sail and while out on the bay, cleared his mind of detritus and found that he could see the wisdom in letting Andrew use the boat for his last couple of years in school. We’ll still be here, and then we could sell the boat at that time and use the money for a refit on whatever boat we had. He came home and was certain of his decision. We felt the stars were aligning behind this. Boy, were we wrong. That’s the problem with stars.

So now the crazy gets worse. Mike calls Andrew and says we want him to use Moonrise. I call our listing broker and tell her we are taking the boat off the market. And I get this stunned silence in response. Initially, that confused me because I had just been telling her a couple of days before that we were considering this move and would let her know as soon as possible, so I figured she would be disappointed, but not exactly stunned. The silence was a disturbing response. Her eventual reply? “I think I might have a buyer for you. Are you sure?”  If this wasn’t a family-friendly blog, I would be posting some mighty unladylike words here. Let’s use symbols instead: ***##$^&#(@)$)($%&%&*$(*&#(@#&*(*&$*$&*(^!!!!!  And the real clincher is that the buyer is out here from Vermont and is going back on Tuesday. He doesn’t really have the time to give us a couple of days to think about it.

Alert readers will recall that when we made the offer on Flying Gull, there was also a sense of urgency, that there was no time to waste. Why is this seeming to be the pattern in our world lately? I will have to think on that one. There’s probably a lesson here somewhere.

This kind of crazy, daytime TV-esque drama is something we are not accustomed to in our house. We needed a break. We needed food so we went to dinner where I proceeded to eat unhealthy things, a sure sign that I am knocked for a loop. Mike had crunched the numbers again and it’s just a financially better decision to sell the boat. We need to deal with Andrew’s boat separately. Well, duh.  I know all the money geniuses who read this blog will be breathing their collective sighs of relief. You go right ahead if it makes you feel better.

Andrew kept Skippy from jumping off the boat to get to the sea lions. Even our dog is crazy.

Andrew kept Skippy from jumping off the boat to get to the sea lions. Even our dog is crazy.

So now we have succeeded in jerking our broker around, jerking the potential buyer around,  and, worse than both of those things, jerking our son around. And, of course, we feel jerked around by ourselves. If we weren’t driving this train, we could get mad at someone but the sad truth is we are completely in charge. We are flippin’ ridiculous. All because when fear creeps in, rational decision making runs out the back door. Brokers just don’t get paid enough to deal with crazy people. And from the outside looking in, we look all kinds of crazy.

So we are sorry to have jerked everyone on the tail end of our chain. And especially sorry to have raised our son’s hopes, only to dash them, but again, I look for the reason in all of this. And I discover that I have some work left to do in letting go of my mother’s guilt for a son’s mishap. So maybe it’s worth it if I can clear my heart of this for once and for all. That will not put my son in a safer boat, but it will put my heart in a safer place, and that’s all to the good when it comes to choosing boats and letting go. So, I’m working on it.

But don’t think for one minute that the question of Danger Kitten is a settled one. We’ll be looking for a pocket cruiser to replace her. She’s an excellent little boat but not for sailing where he wants to go. He’s in the same position with her as we are with Moonrise.  He’ll continue to enjoy her until we find the right one, knowing her limitations and respecting them. We will take our time and enjoy the search, I hope. It will have a galley, and an enclosed marine head, and it will have either a full keel or wide fin keel. And it will be under 30 feet LOA and will be built to cross oceans. Like his parents, Andrew wants to sail far over the sea. If we could afford to buy that little Flicka I recently reviewed, that would be cool.  But we’re looking below that price range..well below it. I know the right boat is out there, and it will appear at the right time. Keep your eyes open for us, okay?

Andrew adjusting a sail on Moonrise a couple of years ago.

Andrew adjusting a sail on Moonrise a couple of years ago.

Days of Sloth

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It’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, a time when people reflect on their lives and what they’ve accomplished over the year, setting goals for the future. The dark days of winter are, I’m sure, created in order for us to have time to be introspective, thoughtful, mindful of how we live our lives. And I intend to do just that. After I’m finished resting and relaxing.

Hermione knows what I’m talking about. What a face!

Yes, indeed, I have hit the days of Sloth full force with my resting ways. Today I have accomplished the following: a shower, throwing wrapping paper from Christmas into the recycle bin. That is all, really. And I am completely satisfied with my level of usefulness in the world. My needs this week, in terms of being at all useful to others, are small.  And in this slow-moving, deliberate living I have embraced of late, I have, indeed, had some time to think, even if I haven’t given it much notice.

The ultra cool Space Needle in Seattle. I stuck this in here because it’s a groovy photo I took this season. Some day I will buy myself a really awesome camera and learn how to use it.

I’ve been thinking about how this time last year I was on a rampage getting rid of stuff. It’s as though I somehow thought that our cutting of the dock lines was just around the corner of our lives and that I had to hurry up and simplify. Oh, brother.  In so doing, I have complicated things terribly. Whatever you do, don’t believe everything you read about how ‘freeing’ it is to get rid of all your stuff because sometimes that is just a damn lie. And this lie comes home to roost on Christmas day when you have 9 people over for dinner and own only 3 dining room chairs because you gave the other chairs away since they were cluttering up the place. And then you have the neighbors over for dinner and apologize about the lack of chairs, commenting that you don’t know what happened to them and they respond with, “You gave them to our son last year because you didn’t need them anymore. Do you need them back? You don’t have anyplace for people to sit when you entertain.” Right. Like I’m going to take back chairs I gave to someone just starting out in life who can barely make a living much less buy new chairs. How embarrassing.

Oh sure, throwing everything out would be freeing if I didn’t ever need things again, or if I was moving onto a boat, say, tomorrow. But since neither of those things is true, I better slow down or we won’t have anyplace to sit in our own home.

What we have here is a collection of very tiny ornaments. I will NOT be getting rid of my collection of tiny Christmas ornaments. They will go with us on whatever boat we have. They take up almost no room. Without Christmas, there would be no Days of Sloth. And I must have them.

Oh, we’ve de-cluttered the place nicely this year. We’ve made so many trips to Goodwill that they know us by name. But the dirty truth is this: getting rid too much stuff well in advance of making a move to a small place, or a boat, is useless. Why? Because nature abhors a vacuum, that’s why. We live in a 3000 square foot house, more or less. Already with both kids gone most of the time, we feel as though we are knocking around in a huge empty space. Getting rid of things that take up that empty space just creates more empty space, and, naturally, it somehow gets filled with more stuff.  It just feels weird to have big blank areas where furniture needs to be. I took the advice of all the self-help gurus and got rid of all the stuff I didn’t use or have on display. That leaves exactly 3000 square feet of stuff that I DO use and IS on display. The house is too big for just us, but we’re in a transitional phase just now and we’re not getting rid of it anytime soon.

And speaking of that, I’ve been pretty attached to my house lately. Maybe it’s just that it’s winter, and cold and wet but I’ve come to realize that my dreams of being on a boat really do generally include warm weather and sunshine. Not that I don’t want to sail in colder climates. I do, but I don’t intend to be miserable all the time while doing it. So this time of year when I miss the boat and think ‘let’s go sailing’, I look outside, realize that what’s in my head doesn’t match the reality outside,  and then become thankful that I’m warm and dry. Call me middle-aged. Call me a sailing wimp. Whatever. I prefer to think of it as ‘blooming where I’m planted’.

Here’s a photo from the butterfly house at the Pacific Science Center, for those who need a break from the narration. I like how this butterfly totally brings together the colors of the plants. This is how gardeners think in the winter time.

Mike has been more productive today, but then, he has a more finely developed sense of guilt than I have. After all, he did grow up in the south. He and Andrew replaced the brake shoes on two cars today, so he feels like he deserves to be laying on the couch reading one of his many new books he received from Santa this Christmas…books on sailing. Mike received 4 riveting books that are sailing oriented, and we’ll post about them later. For now, suffice to say that while Mike received books on sailing adventures, and Andrew received new sailing boots and a new anchor roller for Danger Kitten, I received kitchen utensils and a gift certificate to the spa. I’m beginning to sense a trend. Now, to be fair, I have been ‘into’ cooking lately, as is evidenced by the luscious Beef Bourguignon I served for Christmas dinner. Still, I believe my point is well taken. I will be reading his books so I dearly hope he is in a sharing kind of mood.

He must be really enjoying this book because I’ve heard a lot of snorting and guffawing, and comments like ‘this guy either has balls or he’s an idiot’. And also things like, “I know what’s going to happen next because we’ve done this. Oh, Lord, at least we know he lived to tell of it.” I can’t wait to read this book.

And so during these days of sloth when I’ve given myself the gift of not giving a damn what I get done, Mike lies on one couch, I type on another couch… you can see where I’m going with this: we simply must buy a boat with two generously built settees. Otherwise, there is no other way this whole plan will actually work.

 

 

Sugar and Spice…. Not So Nice? Oh, the Political Incorrectness!

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Just saying… In the Gender Studies department around here, I am feeling more and more like a ‘girl’. To be fair, sometimes I enjoy being a girl. I liked being pregnant, I like that my husband is all manly and stuff, and has skills any girl would envy. Lately I’ve kind of enjoyed clothes and expensive boots (sorry, Tate). Why, just today I engaged in the time-honored girl activity of retail therapy. Keeping the economy alive, folks, just keeping it alive. We’ve come a long way since the 1960’s when I was a child and fervently wished I had been born a boy so I could have both adventures and upper body strength. Yes, we’ve come far, but not far enough!

I admit it. This is what I like best. It requires nothing of me except to know how to set up the hammock.

What gives? Well, I’ll tell you! Mike and Andrew are going to have an adventure next week. And not just any old ‘father/son’ adventure like throwing a ball, which they never, ever did, by the way. It will be a sailing adventure on Danger Kitten, Andrew’s Ericson 25. They are moving Danger Kitten down from Bellingham Bay to Tacoma for the winter.  And I hate them for it just a little bit. Okay, maybe hate is too strong a word, but I’m having a little gender jealousy moment at the very least and I deserve to have some foot-stomping to go with it. If Andrew had two dads, we’d both be going!

“But Melissa”, you say. “You love sailing! Might one inquire why you aren’t going on this grand adventure that is happening right before Armageddon? Surely this would be the best thing you could do during the end times!”  And to that I would say, “Exactly!”  Except for this: The Universe works in mysterious ways and one of those ways was to create men to be able to stay warm without the application of a constant, uninterrupted outside heat source. I may be generalizing here, which I do on occasion when talking gender roles, but I think I will be forgiven for saying that women complain about being cold more than men do. And it’s bloody cold AND wet out there with worse to come.

Here’s the forecast for the weekend of the 14th of December, when they will be traveling:

“… bitterly cold air mass developing in the Yukon, some ‘surface waves’ will skirt over the top and down along the BC coast for more cold rain. One of these waves may arriving by Fri Dec 14. The weekend of Dec 15 looks to mirror this coming weekend: chilly, showery, snow below the passes.”

This forecast does not focus on wind. So it will either be windy and cold and wet, or calm and cold and wet. You see the trend?

Sailors, there is no glory or enjoyment to be found in sailing a small boat with no dodger and no heat in conditions that are likely to bring on pneumonia. As a mother and a girl, I was dead worried about Andrew making that trip either alone or with some inexperienced friend. We get some high winds in the winter around here, and his boat isn’t exactly set up for that yet. I began to fret.  I began to be sleepless worrying about it. I began buying him things.

Oh, they’ve done this before. This was about 8 years ago, aboard the Saucy Sue, our Catalina 27. Do they look like they are having fun? Am I taking the photo from inside the cabin? You bet I am. It’s a wonder Andrew grew up to enjoy sailing with memories like this.

In a brilliant display that gave me hope, the Universe heard my worry and when I went on Ebay to see if I could find some used sailing bibs for Andrew, I immediately found, at the very top of the page,  a ‘buy it now’ deal on brand new, with tags, Gill sailing bibs just like Mikes, in the right size for ……badaboom… $85. With shipping. Score! Here is a video of Andrew testing them out: (Kids do some interesting things in a college dorm.)

While I was busy worrying and soothing myself by spending money, Mike and Andrew were busy colluding without informing me. I had probably two or three days of girl-worrying without knowing they had decided Mike would be going with Andrew on the trip. You see what happens when a father has a son like this? They talk to each other but not to the girl. Apparently this is some kind of Law of Male Behavior as this pattern is repeated in households and college dorms all over the world. Yes, yes, (insert hand flapping here) of course I’m grateful my son has such a great dad. Move on.

Mike and Andrew being manly men together while I hold the boat on course. Barkley Sound, BC. Damn I want to go back up there.

When I waxed disappointed that I didn’t get to go, too, Mike replied that he could take the cold better than I could. That might be true, but I don’t have to like it and I reserve the right to pout about it. The truth is that because of my girl-metabolism, which, by the way, I’m not seeing the point of since I don’t exactly have to conserve energy to grow children anymore, I would be lowly and miserable on that trip. Cold and rain is a sure recipe for disaster for me. I only hope it won’t be for them.

Don’t let anyone say I don’t at least try to pull my own weight. Also, this was before we invested in decent inflatable life preservers. I can attest to the fact that the big ones are warmer. Yes, I was completely miserable. And yet I did it. Why? Why?

So now all I get to do to participate in this little outing is the usual wife/mother/girl stuff like making sure they have plenty of nourishing food on board and plenty of things to keep them warm, like a box of hand warmers from Costco. It’s not that they are not capable of thinking ahead to what they will need for any contingency….. HAHAHAHAH! Who am I kidding?

Then I wait for 3 or so days at home while they are out having boy fun and bonding time and seeing whales, no doubt. Stupid boys and their stupid boy clubs. Rats. Maybe I will go have a spa day or something. Or buy shoes. I’m sure you’ll get to read all about it when Mike brags blogs about the grand adventure.

Maybe these would make me feel better. Hmmmm?