Articles

There has been a rash of theft in our marina lately. It started with a bunch of fishing gear getting stolen off of some power boats, but this Saturday I found my bike had been stolen. This kind of thing can really make you question the quality of the average person… until you come back from your errands to find an annoymous gift in your cockpit. We think one of our friends down the dock left the toy castle for the kids. They had a ball playing with it but agreed that it wouldn’t fit in our boat. The next morning Ruby and Olive raced down the dock to return it and were perfectly delighted to put it back aboard Gemini. ...

Today sucked royally. I started the day saddled with the dread of a project (replacing the hot water heater) that I just knew was going to go badly. This project was going to go badly because: I couldn’t get to all of the fittings to measure what size they were and therefore didn’t know for sure what to buy to replace them. The old water heater may have or may not have fit out through the available hole… Oh no. It didn’t. The beginning of the project involved cutting the safety net (all of the hoses, strapping, and electrical) thereby completely committing me to raving success or miserable failure. The space that I had to work in was miserably small, virtually guarantying several minor concussions, gashes, and bruises (check, check, and check) The very best that I had hoped for was to get enough done that I could safely turn on the pressure water in the evening (cold only) to do the dishes from the margaritas. So after a grumpy breakfast, and a grumpy trip to the chandlery and the hardware store, I grumpily made by way back down the dock with not quite enough parts to complete the project, and a pretty bad attitude. I was short tempered all morning, and when I finally remeasured the new hot water heater and found that it was something like 10" too tall for the space it was going into, I was pretty certain that I was going to go stratospheric. When I then remeasured the old heater and found that there was no possible way to get it out without removing the countertop, I thought I would cry. ...

Olive: “You know what this is daddy?” Me: " No Olive, what is that" (she’s holding two paint stirrers) Olive: “Its a gun for catching gooses and ducks with fire and steam” Me: “Buddy, do you think you’re old enough for a gun?” Olive: “Oh yeah, Im a very big girl. Very tall” Me: “Okay then i guess you’re big enough to go to bed without nursing then?” Olive: “Aye Aye” ...

Thought this was pretty funny. Thanks to this article by the super funny and entertaining Janna Cawrse Esarey for hooking me up with this video.

Can critically evaluating your relationship lead to a happier healthier self while simultaneously improving the relationship?

A Friday ritual, inspired by Soule Mama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.

Most landlubbers take for granted that making a bed consists of removing linens from the closet (or what-have-you) and spreading them over a rectangular surface. For the salty amongst us, the chore begins the same way but quickly devolves to wrestling rectangular bedding around the odd and unaccommodating shapes that berths tend to come in. In our case the traditional vee-berth came with the added challenge of the affectionately named Chastity Cable. Because of this lovely piece of below decks rigging, we don’t have a need for the little wedge shaped piece the many vee-berths have and we require either two completely independent sets of sheets and covers, or some clever way to work around the obstacle with one. ...

A Friday ritual, inspired by Soule Mama. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.

I know that our RSS Feed has been broken for some time, but with the move and all I haven’t had time to fix it. Well today I discovered that the little stats program that was supposed to keep an eye on the popularity of the feed, was in fact preventing it from working at all. That’s all gone now so please, if you were a subscriber before, try again now. If you weren’t, its a great way to get your forgeover fix without having to type all those letters :)

A four year old friend of ours wants to know why we live on a boat. Her mom said it was so we could travel around the world. “Planes are faster. In case you maybe didn’t know that.”, she replied. “Is it so nice as all that?” asked the mole, shyly… “Nice? It’s the only thing,” said the Water Rat Solemnly, as he leaned forward for his stroke. “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” ...

For the past 9 years I’ve had less than 30 minutes of commute a day, total. Today I commuted a total of 3 hours. The two bike segments home were directly into the wind, with killer traffic, in my lowest gear. I got home and met Vick and the kids in the parking lot and spent nearly an hour searching for food and clothing in the ManVan. Tonight, with winds howling at ~20 knots in the harbor, we finally relented to the worsening head smell in our cabin. It was obvious what needed to be done but with the cold and wind and dark, we were hoping it could wait until morning. Not so. After one aborted attempt for a pump out at the fuel dock (turns out that pump out must have gone away when they relocated the fuel dock) we headed back to our slip to do some reconnaissance on foot. Once I had confirmed that we could get over and back to the Emery Cove pump out we pushed off again and made our way over, did the deed, and got Convivia back into her slip. ...

This is it. As of Monday we are officially live-aboards. To me that means that, starting on Monday, I will come home to the boat, sleep on the boat and wake up on the boat every day for the foreseeable future. This is deeply comforting to me. To Vick it means a week (only a week) of final push to sell everything that we own that doesn’t fit this new life, or doesn’t fit in the boat/manvan/storage unit. Monday is not deeply comforting to Vick. This morning Vick made the brilliant and unexpected decision to call our good friend Katherine in for some professional organizing help. Katherine arrived late in the afternoon and the two of them lit into the piles of stuff that we’ve accumulated over the years and reduced it to a tidy stack of boxes and neatly organized piles. They made it through two rooms. Tomorrow Vick will be flying solo, but she’s already significantly more optimistic. ...

From time to time I am reminded that my culture has no coming of age tradition. Some of the effects of this deficit are subtle, some more obvious. This weekend, as I near my 35th birthday I experienced another Man Making Moment. Man Making Moments are different for everyone. I suspect many are like me and derive some significant part of their manliness ideal from their fathers. For me, the image of my dad under the hood, fixing, tuning and explaining our car’s inner workings, has left a mark. When the AAA guy confirmed my suspicion that the starter had failed on the ManVan I was both anxious and eager. This was going to be a greasy, cramped, and physical repair, but I knew I could do it. Never mind that I had never even heard a story about someone replacing a starter. I grabbed my socket set (thanks again Dad) and crawled under the truck. An hour later I had the starter motor out and Allison and I headed down to Kragen to get a replacement. I was quite surprised when the Nick (the Kragen sales guy) handed me a huge honkin box. Aparently I had only removed part of the starter. The rest of the job was going to be a lot harder than I had anticipated. ...

**** The plan was to meet Allison in Richmond at 9:00 and shuttle the ManVan back to Emeryville where we would pick Jon up and drive back to Richmond. Unfortunately the ManVan had other ideas. Somehow, after hauling a ton of gear over 700 miles, the ManVan decided to give up the ghost right in the Bay Marine parking lot. So, we changed the plan. By 10am everyone was on the boat and by 11 we were pushing off. After a hair raising shove off we headed out the channel and into the Bay. The wind was gentle in the morning and we put up full sails but by the time we were lined up with Racoon Straights it was blowing hard enough to warrant a first reef. By the time we were lining up with the Gut it was howling and a second reef would have been prudent. I was loving the speed (6.5 SOG according to the iPhone) and we were so close to Emeryville that it was nearly time to douse the sails anyway, so we let out a bit and enjoyed the wind. ...