Last week we left our slip again and sidled up to the work dock at Swantown Boat Works. We had an appointment with destiny. That is, Hans and Heather of Osprey Boatworks were going to meet us there and get started with installing the new backing plates and chainplates destined to give us a feeling of safety and peace at sea.  We had been warned that this project would create a lot of nasty fiberglass dust in the boat.  My attitude, while not exactly glib, was of the ‘not to worry, I know how to clean’ variety. “We’ll be doing a lot of grinding and sanding and this fiberglass dust is going to get everywhere”, said Hans. One day, I will learn to take people at their word.

Mid project, I say hello briefly before running up into the cockpit to escape the poisonous fumes. There is no breathing below without a respirator. In case you are curious, that sign is translated to say “Bidden or unbidden, God is present”, This is written on Carl Jung’s grave and this plaque has been hanging in my office since I graduated from my master’s program in 1989. Michael got it for me because my “major” was Jungian studies. I love it and will always have it hanging in my home, wherever that will be.

OK, well we figured we would close up the forward cabin, midship cabin, and aft head, draping the closed doors with heavy plastic and sealing the cracks around the doors with blue tape. Hans looked at me in a way I interpreted as kindly but which, actually, was a look most people save for the dying. It’s a look of compassion and knowing; a look of long life experience that allows people to go through their motions without having to educate them on the futility of their actions. He knew our fate, if not our airspace, was sealed.

The workspace in the salon.

And so it came to pass. After a little over a week at the work dock, a week of grinding, sanding, laying fiberglass, and more sanding, we got a text from Hans. “Your boat is ready for pickup.”, he said. Huzzah! The work was done. We’d take the boat back to the slip, give her a quick wipe down inside, and then Michael could finish preparing the mast step for the final push of this long project: putting the rig back together.

Down at the work dock at slack current, Michael went below to get the chart plotter and make sure the engine was ready to start so we could take the boat back to her slip. “Wait until you see the inside! It looks great and they got everything cleaned up, too!”, he shouted from the cockpit.  Hans and Heather had vacuumed the workspaces and tidied the boat beautifully.  It sounded like our cleaning work was going to be pretty easy and, indeed, the salon and aft cabin looked as they did when we left the boat the week before. We were so impressed! Of course, it was dark when we left the dock. We could not actually SEE very much.  It’s these moments of childlike excitement, where we have not yet been stripped of the innocence of our naivety, that keep us going.

Inside the navigation cabinet. INSIDE A CLOSED CABINET SPACE. We crammed things in there… to protect them. Ahem. Nope.

Alas. The light of day, watery sun shining through gritty ports, told a different story.  While our careful efforts to contain the carnage probably helped a great deal, the amount of dust we found literally on every single surface; every wall, inside every cabinet, between every dish, inside every cup and glass…well let’s just say that we have our work cut out for us. We had been warned. But just as we failed, at the beginning of our first cruise, to imagine the tempest that is the Sea of Cortez on a bad day, so we failed to understand Hans’ careful warning about the nature of this hideous dust. It’s one thing to understand something ‘on paper’, as it were. It’s another thing entirely to experience it. I imagine even the inside of the oven is covered with a fine film of deadly white stuff. I guess I better remember to check.

This boat is filthy; a word which as used here means it probably will never seem clean again no matter how good I am at cleaning. Everything will need to come out of every cabinet and be wiped down. My carefully folded Turkish towels will need laundering again.  I guess it’s a good opportunity to go through things and get rid of stuff we don’t need, maybe reorganize some space. I am grateful we had the foresight to remove all the mattresses and cushions from the boat. Thank goodness we had also had the foresight to cover Hiram, our Beta Marine 60 HP engine, with length of heavy marine vinyl and tape plastic over and around his doors. I took the vacuum to all of his exposed parts anyhow, just to be safe.

We began today, bringing one of the filtered vacuum cleaners from home to begin our work. Armed with this machine, a bucket of Fabuloso cleaner that smells like Mexico, a basket of clean microfiber towels, and warm water, I began in the aft cabin and am working my way forward. I got the aft cabin, aft head, and the shop done today. I got half of the galley done. At least all the dishes have been washed. The good news is the boat smells terrific. Tomorrow I’ll get started on the rest of the galley and the navigation area.

The other good news is the new chainplates look fantastic. They did such a good job and they even sealed the openings in the deck against rain.  Here’s the story in grainy photos so you can see how these things are put together on this boat. The photos are extra poor because I was literally holding my breath while taking them, careful not to breathe in the toxic fumes of curing polyester resin. Man, that stuff is powerfully horrible. And I want to live a little longer. I have fish to visit with.

All laid out and labeled.

Hans and Heather dry fit one of the chainplates before they get started.

Backing plates were mudded in and allowed to set up. This green stuff is extra smelly.

The backing plate on the right is glassed over. The left one is ready to glass over. They leave a stud in the hole at the bottom for reference. Holes will need to be drilled in exactly the right places for the chainplates. This stud allows them to place a chainplate in the right position where the holes will line up with the holes in the backing plates exactly to be drilled.

A new chainplate is finally installed with new bolts. Isn’t it lovely? We’ll be dead before this needs to be done again.  Mike thought he would be responsible for putting the plates in. We were thrilled when we found out that was part of Hans and Heather’s job. We are very happy to pay them for a job well done. We’ll let you know how much this set us back when we find out. But it’s money very well spent.

Tomorrow is another day. More cleaning, Michael finishing up getting the mast step in order. Then we get the mast stepped next Friday. It’s coming together and we truly look forward to getting this boat put back together.

S/V Galapagos, radio unplugged and safely encased in a plastic bag.