Zen In A Camper

Solomons, MD is a resort town located on the Patuxent River just off the western shore of the Chesapeake Bay. It is boater friendly and most of my favorite stores – Walmart, Target, Kohl’s, Belk, Marshalls, and Ross – are just across the Thomas Johnson Bridge in California, MD. Lowe’s and Ace Hardware are nearby so Steve has what he needs. We’re going to stay in Solomons a while, but we don’t want to stay at Beacon Marina. They have a great monthly rate, but it’s just a little too rustic for a long term stay

We go marina shopping and decide to stay at Solomons Harbor for a month, maybe two. It’s a Holiday Inn property so we get hotel amenities – pool, exercise room, free breakfast, free ice, and cable TV at the slip.  We even get discounted room rates if anyone wants to come visit!  Young Son lends us a car so we have everything we need. Except Wi-Fi. Surprisingly, Wi-Fi on the docks is not reliable and addressing that issue that has consumed quite a bit of our time, but that’s another blog.

Once settled in, we fill the water tanks. Since we’d filled them on our way up here using water that’s a little more “mineraly” than what we are used to, I want to siphon the water that’s in the tanks out and clean them before filling them. With two inspection plates and not much sediment or rust stains, the big tank is clean and filled in no time. Not so with the small tank. When we put an inspection plate on the small tank, we forgot about the brace that holds it and the diesel tank in place while we’re traveling. The brace has to be removed to unscrew the inspection plate.

We empty the tank and wipe it out. Steve goes up on deck, takes the fill plate off, and turns on the water. I watch as the water enters the tank.

M (banging on the portlight): Turn off the water!

S: Are you sure? It can’t be full already.

M: There’s stuff floating in the water.

S: Oh, God. Not again.

Steve sees the stuff floating in the water. We don’t know what it is but we both know that I don’t want it in our water tank. It must be the fill line. We siphon out the water and wipe out the tank. We fill the tank a couple more times to see if we can flush out whatever’s in the fill line. Fill, siphon, wipe. Fill, siphon, wipe. No luck. The floaty stuff is still there. We’re not going to tackle replacing the fill line today so we drag the hose into the salon to fill the tank.

WHAT??? The floaty stuff is still there. This makes no sense. Logically and systematically, we begin ruling out other possible sources of the floaty stuff.

Is it the hose hooked to the faucet?  Fill, siphon, wipe. Is it the hose hooked to the water filter  Fill, siphon, wipe.  Is the water filter?  Fill, siphon, wipe.  Is it the water line itself?  Nope.  The floaty stuff is still there so we add a little bleach to the tank and hope that the water filter under the sink will remove the floaty stuff.  The next time we fill the tanks, there is absolutely no floaty stuff.  Makes no sense but we’re not complaining, and since we expected to spend most of the day replacing the fill line, we use that time to move the brace on the small water tank.

Dealing with the controller on our A/C unit has also been annoying. We have a Crusair water-to-air system and a SMX digital cabin control system. It’s basically a heat pump. There are two discharge ducts, one in the main salon next to where I sit and one in the V-berth next to where I sleep. The factory setting is for the fan to run all the time. I don’t like air blowing on me all the time so I get the manual out and set the fan to intermittent. Problem is, it doesn’t cool as well if the fan is not running all the time. I did read something that said if you select intermittent fan operation, you may have to relocate the thermistor from the return air duct to an inside wall, but may is not must so I just ignored it. And then, weird things started happening. The unit turned itself off. It switched to heat. It went into dehumidification mode. We clean both the return air intake filter and the raw water intake strainer filter. They are both pretty nasty, but cleaning them doesn’t resolve our issues.

Steve calls the company. We have two issues he says. The system doesn’t work as well when the fan is set to intermittent and our controller randomly switches modes.

Crusair Guy: Do you have a TV remote?

S (knowing where this was going): Yes, but I don’t have a remote for my controller.

Crusair Guy: The remote is optional but there is an IR sensor on your controller and your TV remote is probably changing the settings on your controller.

The Crusair Guy told Steve where to find the sensor and since we didn’t have any electrical tape handy, he covered it with painter’s tape. Annoying problem solved.

The second issue requires a call back from a more knowledgeable technical rep. Bottom line, the manual is wrong. If you select intermittent fan operation, you must relocate the thermistor from the return air duct to an inside wall.

Another annoying problem solved.  Thank you, sir.  May I have another?

Steve is responsible for most of the boat maintenance, but I am going to take responsibility for cleaning the return air intake filter and the raw water intake strainer filter. Steve says it needs to be done once a month. Sounds good, I say, but let’s clean the raw water intake strainer filter again. I want to be able to do it all by myself so I take notes.

1. Remove flooring covering the bilge.
2. Close the seacock.
3. Unscrew the cap on the strainer.
4. Pull up on the handle to remove the filter.

M: OMG! There‘s something nasty in here.

S: It can’t be that dirty. We just cleaned it.

M: Jellyfish. It’s full of jellyfish and pee-YEW! They stink bad!!

The Chesapeake’s most common jellyfish is the sea nettle, a white, umbrella-shaped yucky-looking thing. We’ve seen them in the water and apparently, the hot, dry conditions we’ve had this year have increased the temperature and salinity of the water, creating an ideal breeding ground.

Sea nettles are nearly 90 percent water but that doesn’t stop them from being sucked into our raw water intake valve.

Cleaning the raw water intake strainer filter is now an almost daily chore. I pull the filter out, put it in a bucket, and hand the bucket to Steve. He takes it outside and cleans the jellyfish guts out of the filter. One day, I decide we need to flush the bilge. There are jellyfish parts floating around in it. I ask Steve to bring me the hose when he’s done. No answer. I ask again, a little louder this time. He appears in the companionway.

M: Did you hear me? Please bring me the hose. I want to flush the bilge.

S (Dangling the handle to the filter and obviously pissed): Yes, I hear you, but we have a bigger problem to deal with.

M: Where’s the filter?

S: Where do think the filter is? Stainless steel does not float. I’m going to West Marine.

M: Okay. Hand me the hose.  I’ll stay here and flush the bilge.

Steve returns with the filter still pissed because he knows better than to wash things off over the side of the boat but even more pissed that he had to spend $48 on a new filter. Thankful it wasn’t me who dropped the filter overboard, I fix him a drink.

A few annoyances? Maybe, but we’re retired, living on a boat and staying in Solomons. It’s what we signed up for. It’s Zen on a Boat.

July 5, 2015
Where to from Portsmouth? Solomons is at least 2 long days or 3 easy days away. Anchoring out in Mobjack Bay might be fun. Nah. It’s going to be in the 90’s again. During the day, we can take the heat but at night after being on the water all day, A/C feels really good. We set our course for Deltaville.

We leave Portsmouth around 7:30 AM. There’s quite a bit of activity on the river for a Sunday morning especially a Sunday morning after the 4th of July holiday. Shipping lanes are busy. We see cranes taking containers off barges, and fishing, lots of fishing.

It’s a lot quieter in the Chesapeake Bay. We eat a bowl of cereal. Steve turns on the auto helm, gets himself situated on one of his noodle lifelines, and keeps watch. I practice my cleat hitches and help Steve look for markers.

Steve almost always sees the markers first. There it is, he says, pointing. I can never tell where he is pointing so I ask where. He just keeps pointing and says there.

I get frustrated and start reading the Waterway Guide Magazine. Ironically, there’s an article in there about on-board communications called “Boat Whisperers”, and I read this to Steve.

“Always point out landmarks, other boats and particularly the next navigation aid using color descriptions and a clock reference.”  I demonstrate this when I point out York Spit Light as we cross the entrance to the York River.

M (pointing): There it is.
S: Where?
M (still pointing): There’s a black blob at about 1:00. See it?
S (adjusting our course): Yes, I do.
M: You’re welcome.

Neither one of us have trouble seeing Wolf Trap Light as we pass Mobjack Bay before turning left into the mouth of the Rappahannock River.

I am at the helm heading into Broad Creek. Steve is navigating but takes the wheel when I tell him I am going to slow down because I am only in about 3 feet of water. In my defense, it’s a narrow channel and it shoals quickly so that’s to be expected when you pass an oncoming boat.

We stay at Deltaville Yachting Center for the next two days. A well-taken care of, friendly marina. Good, clean facilities. Excellent Wi-Fi signal. Pool.  Loaner car. We provision, do laundry, watch a few episodes of Longmire, and that’s about it. Yep, I can live in a marina.

July 7, 2015
We’re going to Tangier Island. A straight shot across the bay, it should be an easy trip. Like us, the diesel is a little slow to start, but once she warms up, we motor on out into the bay. Winds are blowing 10 – 12 knots on our nose and it’s a little choppy so no sailing today. Steve is keeping watch and I am in the main salon reading. I look out the hatch in the quarter berth and decide I better go out on deck. I am not feeling quite right.

I like to sit in the companionway and look out over the deck so I sit there for a while. A few ujjayi breathes help (see link below) but I am not going down below anytime soon.

http://www.yogajournal.com/article/practice-section/what-is-ujjayi/

We get to Tangier Island around 1:30. I feel better. We call the marina on the VHF radio. No answer, but that’s okay. We’re in a quaint little harbor with lots to see so we’re in no hurry to dock.

We call again. No answer. We pull into a slip after our third call goes unanswered.
The wind is blowing us into the slip but I get a line on a piling before we ram the pier. Steve starts tying the boat up. Two lines on and here comes Mr. Parks riding down the dock on his scooter. We had read about Mr. Parks. He’s the 80-some year old marina owner.

Mr. Parks apologizes for not being there to meet us and then tells Steve that he is tying up wrong. Amazingly, Steve is speechless long enough to realize that cussing out an 80-some year old man is not in his best interest and dutifully follows the often conflicting orders that Mr. Parks is barking from the dock without blowing a gasket.

A small close-knit community, Tangier Island residents make their living off the water. We spend the afternoon walking the streets of this small village and listening to the locals speaking to one another in what sounds like the High Tider dialect spoken in Hyde County, North Carolina.

We eat an early dinner and with no Wi-Fi to stream Netflix, we turn in early.

July 8, 2015
We talk about dinghying over to the beach on the south end of the island, but we’re ready to move on. For us, Tangier Island is one of those places we’re glad we visited but probably won’t go back to. We’re underway by 8:15.

With winds blowing 15 – 20 knots, it’s a rough ride. Steve lets the headsail out and things smooth out some. Having felt not quite right the day before, I took a Dramamine before leaving and even though I took the “less-drowsy” formula I still get sleepy so I take a nap.

The highlights of our day are realizing that the ship we’re approaching is a target ship and trying coconut water.

We like water and we drink a lot of it. We drink Gatorade every once in a while, but if I am going to drink empty calories, I prefer they be the fermented kind. I’d read about coconut water and bought some a while back thinking it would be a nice change of pace. We try it. BLECK!  Not good. YUCK!! Not good at all. In fact, coconut water reminds me of Tangier Island. I’m glad we tried it but it is not going to be our change of pace drink.

Solomons is just inside the mouth of the Patuxent River.

We plan to stay at Beacon Marina on Back Creek. The dock master is not answering our VHF radio calls or his cell phone so we tie up to the end of a T-dock. The marina is affiliated with the nearby Comfort Inn. The young man at the front desk there tells us that the dock master is gone for the day but we can stay where we are until we talk to him. What do we owe you? Wait until you talk to the dock master, he says after he gives us the Wi-Fi password and tells us that there’s a free breakfast in the lobby and gives us directions to the bathrooms and free laundry. Sweet. Not bad for $1.50/foot/night, we’re thinking. Nothing fancy. Basic accommodations. Docks are in okay shape. Could definitely be cleaner but we can make this work for a few days. We settle in for the evening. Tomorrow, we’ll get the lay of the land.

We’ve traveled between 250 and 300 nautical miles since leaving Oriental. FNR has proven herself to be mechanically and structurally sound. We’re gaining confidence in our vessel and in ourselves, but we’re still figuring things out so Solomons is going to be home for a while.  We plan to stay cool, work on a few projects, hang out with Young Son, and decide when and where to go next.

We’ve all done it because it’s the polite thing to do. Ooh’ing and aah’ing over someone else’s photos even though we’re not really impressed with what we’re seeing. It’s hard for us amateur iPhoneographers to capture what we’re seeing on our screens. I know that’s true for a lot of the pictures I’ve posted on Zen on a Boat, and that is definitely the case for pictures I took as we traveled up the Dismal Swamp Canal. Still, please be polite and take the time to look at them. At the very least, I hope they will inspire you to make the trip yourself one day. It’s one of those places you just have to see to believe.

We leave Lamb’s Marina around 9:00 Thursday morning. Once in the river, we put both the tarp and the screen house up. It is supposed to be a hot and buggy day. Everybody’s been warning us about the flies. Steve just smiles at me as we watch them bombard the screen house.

We get to South Mills Lock around noon. The next opening is at 1:30. We’re still not very good at figuring out how long it takes us to get someplace. We call the lock operator. He says he’ll let the water out so we can tie up to the pilings outside the lock. A few minutes before 1:30, we see the lock operator in the lock house. We’re the only ones there. We untie and wait for the lock to open.

Steve spent the last hour and an half telling me what to expect when we enter the lock. It really doesn’t sound like a big deal. The lock operator wants us to tie up on the port side and all I have to do is hand him my bow line. Easy-peasy, I’m thinking. And then, the lock opens. I am concerned. Steve neglected to tell me that FNR was going to be about 10 feet below the top of the lock which is where the lock operator is standing.

M: How in the world am I going to hand that man my bow line?

S: You’re going to use the boat hook and once he has your line, you’re going to hand me the boat hook so I can hand him my line.

M: You didn’t tell me about this.

S: I didn’t know there was going to be an 8’ lift.

I am doubly impressed. One, I hand my line to the lock operator like I know how to handle a boat hook and two, our boat rises 8’ in the water in 3, maybe 4 minutes.

We continue up the canal to the Welcome Center and anchor for the night. The lady there is very helpful. She warns us about the flies and tells us a dryer sheet tucked in a pocket will help keep them away. She gives us two of them but Steve tells her that we should be okay because we have a screen house draped over our cockpit. She says we are smart to have one. Steve just smiles at me.

Fine. The screen house is a good idea. I never said it wasn’t. All I said is that it wasn’t a good idea to be sewing on it in 100+ degree heat. You can quit smiling at me now, dear.

A couple of thunderstorms come through and cool things off but, even so, we’re in a swamp and it is HUMID. We’re the only boat at the Welcome Center so we’re okay with turning on the generators and running the A/C for a while to cut the humidity a bit. We eat dinner in the cockpit, and since no one’s around, we hook the water hose up to the faucet at the dock and shower there, too. We get clean and so does the cockpit.

We decide NOT to get up early enough Friday morning to make the 11:00 opening at Deep Creek Lock. We figure if we leave by 9 AM, we can make the 1:30 opening. Surprise. We miscalculate. We’re there at 11:30 and we laugh because if the guys dredging the canal, moved their pipes when they saw us coming instead of waiting for us to call them on the VHF radio and ask them to move them, then we could have made the 11:00 opening. No worries. It’s a cool day on the swamp and the screen house is still up. Life is good.

We are joined by a catamaran around 12:30. We chat for a bit and learn they’ve been cruising full-time for 8 years and are on their way to Maine. They ask us to keep an eye on their boat while they grab a bite to eat at the nearby Mexican restaurant and then run across the street to the Food Lion. That couple has obviously traveled this stretch of water a time or two!

The water is in the lock when we enter it so we are close to the top of the lock. Instead of taking the line that I am confidently handing him, the lock operator grabs his boat hook, snatches my line off the deck, flings it around the piling, hands it to me, and tells me to hold on tight because FNR is about to drop 8 ½ feet. I am amazed and concerned. I look at Steve.

M: I don’t think my line is long enough.

S: It will be if you stand up.

M: Ohhhhhh, that makes sense.

Out of the lock, we make our way up to Norfolk. We are actually staying in Portsmouth which is on the opposite shore of the Elizabeth River. We see lots of shipyards, both military and commercial, and a few marinas before pulling into Tidewater Yacht Marina.

Talk about culture shock. This is a happening place. A little too happening for us though. We thought about staying a week but two nights is enough. The fireworks over the river are the best we’ve ever seen but for where this marina is located and what we are paying to stay there, we are disappointed. Oh, well. Live, learn and post reviews on Active Captain.

The free dockage at Dismal Swamp Welcome Center gets five stars.

The $2.00/foot plus electricity Tidewater Yacht Marina gets two.

Hopefully, the video will earn a star or two.  Enjoy!

For the last 3 months, it’s been all about FNR and with only 15 days before we set sail, I am nervous about taking a week off to counsel a week of church camp. Having been a high school youth sponsor at my church for many years, the kids don’t intimidate me. It’s just that there are so many last minute boat projects to complete. Should I be taking a week off?

Wait a minute. I am retired. I do not work. I do not need to “take” a week off.  I can just go.  I leave Steve with a massive honey-do list and head to Camp Caroline in Arapahoe, NC.

I know most of the counselors…my son, a couple of my former youth group girls, various adults I’ve met at regional youth events over the years. I don’t know many of the kids…yet.

There are six girls in my cabin. I have the older girls – 5 juniors and 1 senior. They arrive, and we introduce ourselves. Anxious to say hello to the friends they haven’t seen in a while, they hurriedly unpack and head out the door. We gather as a large group to listen to our first keynote. Then, we break out into small groups to discuss what we heard. There are 11 kids and 2 counselors in our small group. We introduce ourselves. We’re an hour in and I have 17 names to learn. Seeing as how I can’t call my own kids by the right name half the time, I’m a little overwhelmed. Oh well, thank goodness for name tags.

Our day starts at 7:30 in the morning and ends at 11:30 at night. We eat surprisingly tasty camp food. We sing lots of camp songs. We participate in interest groups. We swim, sail, swing, play games and just hang out. We even get Horizontal Time (AKA nap time)!! We have a Talent Show and end the week with an all-camp dance despite an all-camp power outage.

I enjoy watching a budding camp romance. I hear a lot of laughter and witness very little drama. These kids absolutely love being at camp.

We have two keynotes a day, and the theme for the week is about being a good neighbor in a multi-faith society. The morning keynote revolves around various “neighborly” scriptures. At night, we learn about some of the world’s other religions. Hearing about the tragic shootings in Charleston, we commit to accepting and embracing our differences. We end the week knowing what it means to be a good neighbor. These kids are remarkably insightful and not surprisingly, they teach me way more than I teach them.

At our closing worship, someone asks me to share my “highs” for the week. Suffering from sleep deprivation, I can’t think of any so I ask for time to reflect. Several afternoon naps and full nights of sleep later, my “highs” look like this:

• Care? Bears!!
• Things that glow
• Small group meditation. We really got into it!!
• Three honorable mentions and one outright win for the daily cabin clean up competition. All I did was make my bed so kudos to Patricia and Nora!!
• Things on screen. You can NOT watch The Blind Side too many times.
• Miss Pauline’s cinnamon rolls
• Things with talent
• Jokes that are so corny they make pirate jokes hilarious
• Not cheating during the Camper / Counselor kickball game
• Not forgetting my Prayer Partner’s name during the PP circle
• Uncontrollable giggling at inappropriate times. Emmi. Mallory. Diane.
• Things we celebrate
• Spending the week with my son and proudly watching him connect and interact with Every. Single. Kid.

Exhausting yet rejuvenating, camp is a well spent week off.

Steve’s son, who lives in Winchester, VA, bought a 1980 Morgan 382 last winter. Steve helped him move it from Jordan Creek which is south of Belhaven, North Carolina on the Pungo River to Solomons, Maryland on the Patuxent River. Manned by a competent crew of three – Deckhand JR, First Mate “Fish” and Captain Young Son, Celerity left North Carolina on Saturday and arrived in Maryland on Tuesday.

As expected, they motored more than they sailed, but Celerity proved herself a seaworthy vessel and with a little TLC, will be an impressive boat.

The first night was the least pleasant. Heading up a channel in the North River off Albemarle Sound looking for a place to anchor, they needed a spotlight to navigate around the crab pots. With the spotlight on, the fuzzy bills starting swarming, flying into mouths, bombarding eyes, zooming up nostrils and any other orifice they could get into. There was no talking and with limited visibility, they hurriedly dropped anchor for the night.

Up early the next day, they fired up the generator and wasted no time getting underway.

On day two, they went through the lock at Great Bridge, VA. A lock is a section of water closed off by gates which control the water level so that boats can be raised or lowered as they pass through it. It’s like an elevator for boats.

If you’ve never been through a lock, you will be impressed. Deckhand JR sure was.

The Mexican tall ship tied up to the dock at Waterside Marina in Norfolk, VA provided the most non-alcoholic entertainment on the trip.

This ship is a training vessel for the Mexican Navy, spending much of the year on the high seas while teaching the essential elements of seamanship and navigation.

Wondering how long those cadets would stand on the yardarms, Celerity followed her for a bit but then headed north and with a 25 to 30 knot breeze, it was a great day of sailing.

Crossing the mouth of the Potomac impressed Steve. At 11 miles, it’s a lot wider than he thought it would be. Motoring up the Patuxent, they pulled into Calvert’s Marina around lunchtime. Mission accomplished.

Glad that young son bought a boat and that he asked his dad to join him on this adventure, I am reminded again that this is what retirement is all about.

As soon as Celerity’s dock lines were secure, Steve headed home. We couldn’t wait to see one another.

Many couples have trouble adjusting to “normal” retirement because they are not used to spending so much time together. However, when you retire to a sailboat, you spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week together. So far, this has not been a problem for us but we do like it when folks tell us how well we get along and work together. Hearing that makes us say WHEW…maybe we can do this!!

Still, I don’t think family and friends really understand how together Steve and I are. Take, for example, the text Steve gets from my older daughter the day before Mother’s Day. We have plans to visit with the kids the following weekend, but she wants her mom to have flowers on Mother’s Day. Steve thinks that is sweet and wants to oblige so he agrees to buy some and surprise me with them Sunday morning.

I’m on deck working on the teak. Steve sticks his head out the companionway.

S: You want to ride up to Grantsboro? (We only have one car now so Steve doesn’t want to hop in and leave me behind without letting me know where he’s going.)

M: What for?

S: Chelsea wants me to buy you flowers for Mother’s Day. I can do that, but she also wants me to surprise you with them and I can’t do that. I can’t hide flowers on the boat. So do you want to ride up to Grantsboro with me to get your flowers and then act surprised to see them tomorrow morning?

M: Aww, that’s so sweet, but we can’t have flowers on the boat. There’s nowhere to put a vase.

S: So what do you want me to do?

M: Tell her that. She’ll understand.

She did and we laughed about it the next time we talked.

See?  We’re not the only ones who are having to adjust to life aboard FNR.

FNR is a United States Coast Guard Documented vessel. She is also registered with the state of North Carolina. Recreational boats like FNR do not have to be USCG documented, but they do have to be state registered. Since once USCG documented, always USCG documented, we had to fill out a few forms and pay the Coast Guard some money to change our vessel’s name from Katele to FNR.

We don’t know why FNR was documented to start with but Steve is happy that she was. Being a US flagged boat, we have international recognition and that affords us some legal rights and protections when in foreign waters. The further you are from these United States, the more important being USCG documented becomes. Right now, we don’t plan to go very far but it is nice to know that if you need them, you can count on the US Consulate for help.

This Documentation stuff is complicated. USCG Documented vessels do not display their official numbers on the outside of the hull. If you see numbers on the hull, then the boat is just state registered.

A USCG Documented vessel is identified by properly displaying the boat’s official number, name, and hailing port.  And how should that information be properly displayed?  Per the USCG National Vessel Documentation Center, “the official number assigned to documented vessels, preceded by the abbreviation “NO.” must be marked in block-type Arabic numerals at least three inches high on some clearly visible interior structural part of the hull. The number must be permanently affixed so that alteration, removal, or replacement would be obvious and cause some scarring or damage to the surrounding hull area.”

“The name and hailing port of a recreational vessel must be marked together on some clearly visible exterior part of the hull. All markings may be made by any means and materials that result in durable markings and must be at least four inches in height, made in clearly legible letters of the Latin alphabet or Arabic or Roman numerals. The “hailing port” must include both a place and a State, Territory, or possession of in the United States. The state may be abbreviated.”

And, did you know that even though you pay your fee and you have your Certificate of Documentation, you are not “valid” until the vessel is marked with the name, official number, and hailing port as shown on the certificate?

Up until last week, we were not marked. But we are now!!

Since we were having “markings” made, we decided to replace the old Cal 33 decal, as well. I think the sign maker did a pretty good job, don’t you?

Honey, where’s the Tums?

Steve has heartburn. That means he’s stressed. He’s asked for the Tums several times over the last few weeks. I’m wondering why and I ask him while we are lying in our comfy V-berth looking out the hatch at a sky full of stars.

It’s hard to explain, he tells me. I am living my dream but there is so much to learn and do and see. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. Sure, I had stress at work, but that was stress I was used to. Normal work stress. This is “I’m not sure what I’m doing” stress. Add that to me taking you away from our home, our family, and our dogs and yeah, I need a Tums every now and again.

Okay, I get that. I get heart palpitations when tackling a sewing project.

All the canvas on FNR needed to be replaced so shortly after buying her, we purchased a Sailrite sewing machine. Since Steve used to hang out at his best friend’s canvas shop, he figured making a sail cover, bimini and full enclosure wouldn’t be a big deal. And besides, according to him, the only difference between us and the people who do canvas work for a living is experience and we’re fixing to get that experience.

Uh huh.

We have a Sailtainer mainsail. It is stored in the boom so the sail cover is cylinder-shaped. Steve wants to make the sail cover first. He says it will be a “good” first sewing project.

Uh huh.

We take the old sail cover home and rip it apart so we can see how it is put together and use it for a pattern. We measure, cut, sew, install snaps and head back down to Oriental, confident that FNR has never seen such a good-looking sail cover. We start pulling the cover over the mainsail working our way to the mast. Wait, it must be bunched up somewhere. It’s not fitting. We pull, stretch, and straighten to no avail. It’s too short. Six inches too short to be exact. Perhaps that’s why the end of the old sail cover had ripped apart.

Uh huh. Chalk that up to experience.

We take the new sail cover and the old bimini home. Luckily, adding length to the sail cover is not that big of a deal, but the thought of making a bimini gives me heart palpitations. My mother is an accomplished seamstress and she taught me how to sew when I was a little girl. I can baste, dart, pleat, gather, hem, and sew a pretty straight seam but I struggle with sewing zippers. And, OF COURSE, a bimini has a boatload (no pun intended) of zippers. And, OF COURSE, they are not the normal clothing size zippers. I am looking at zippers ranging from 36” to 96” long.

I watch YouTube video after YouTube video before sewing my first bimini zipper. I rip it out and sew it again and rip it out and sew it a third time.

Uh huh. Chalk that up to experience.

I get better at zippers but we use the old bimini as a pattern for the new bimini. The old bimini was saggy and water pooled on top. The new bimini sags and water pools on top.

Uh huh. So much for experience.

We take the new bimini back and forth a few times trying to get the sags out. It’s not perfect but we’re satisfied.

Since we don’t have a full enclosure, we are going to have to “pattern” one. Novel concept, huh?

Uh huh.  That’s experience talking.

Steve can visualize projects like this in his head. I cannot. I have heart palpitations. Steve tells me that the front curtain is going to consist of 3 panels that zip to the bimini and to each other and then snap or fasten to the deck. I have no idea what he is talking about. The hand goes up. Don’t even try to explain it. Just tell me what to do.

So he does and guess what? It takes us all day but we make the center panel and it looks pretty doggone good.

We make patterns for the other two panels the next day and voila! We have a front curtain!! No more getting wet going up and down the companionway when it rains which, very zen-like, it did that night.

Tums? Heart palpitations? Nuh-uh. We have experience!