Friday after Thanksgiving

One year ago today, I was sailing with Paul and Joyce - Norfolk to St. Maarten - and had had a wonderful and complete Thanksgiving meal aboard, except for the pumpkin pie. Up to that point, I had lived while en route north, at the helm, only coming below in a run, to start the water boiling, or make the coffee, or pour the coffee, or wash a dish. I learned so much from them on that trip about how to live below while underway. How to cook while underway. Basically, life aboard at sea. Showers daily. (Oops - have modified that one a bit!) Trimming sails with Paul, late one night, he would show me how just a subtle change in one little aspect of a sail's shape could pick up a half a knot in speed. Other than my first touch of seasickness, for which I still feel guilty, as I slept long periods from the Dramamine for almost 3 days, although still taking my watch each evening, it was a fantastic experience, with 2 wonderful friends. I appreciate that they thought enough of me to invite me along. Joyce would have no way to know this, but I picked up several of her ways and copied things she did, like keeping an old coffee container to keep the 'slops' in at the galley sink, and pitching these 'organics' overboard when it got full, at sea only, of course. ( I remember when every kitchen had a place to put the peelings, and egg shells, and coffee grounds, in the corner of the sink, and it was a nasty job to take it out back and put it into the compost pile. No, you environmentalists didn't invent composting.) Slowly, I am developing my own ways and rhythms, but that 2 weeks with them gave me an example on which to base my own lifestyle. I appreciate them both so much, and really look forward to meeting up soon. You guys are just great friends, and I cherish you.

As is so often the case, the best plans don't go as intended, and so went yesterday. After running the generator to get a good charge on the batteries and reefers cold, I prepared my flare fittings with a touch of teflon tape(shh! You're not supposed to put teflon tape on hydraulic fittings.) and practiced a couple flares with this flaring tool. Then, headed back to start to rebuild this one section of the steering, in copper, eliminating the plastic tubing. There are 3 inlet/outlet ports on the top of the hydraulic pump, each, now, with a brass compression 90 degree elbow coming out, and continuing in the plastic. Well, flare fittings, by design are longer necked, and when I inserted the first, it is too long to thread into the port, because the 90 degree hits the next fitting. The ports are too close together on the pump. Damn! So there went the whole plan. I have thought of moving the pump and could re-position it, I think, so that the ports are on its side, and I could use straight fittings, but I would need to build a shelf first, and that is not too easy for me right now.
So I brushed my hair and put on a t-shirt, and loaded the dink with my smelly trash, and headed to the hardware store, where I bought compression fittings, to try. Then motored over to town, to the dumpster (Goodbye stinky mahi-mahi and pizza.) , and then walked up the hill to the sail loft. My jib is ready, and the cost was not as bad as expected, but we agreed, if someone was going to come out and help me get her back on the furler, it would have to wait until Monday, because of the blow which started over night, and is howling a bit as I type now. 30 knots expected with gale force gusts, again, are coming fast. So I wandered back into town to the little pub for a beer. Met a fellow from the research vessel based here, a reasonable and very interesting environmental scientist, and we shared about an hour's conversation. Walked over to see an Amel, like Paul's, with Hickory NC on the stern, but they were not so nice folks, and definitely not North Carolinians. The boat is based at a marina in Maryland. And then stopped to talk to some Canadians whom I had seen towed in the other night. They invited me for a beer, and we visited for over an hour. By the time I left them, it was long after dark, and AF's anchor light was not turned on.
So, some left over pasta for Turkey Day dinner (far from the feast Paul and Joyce put out last year), and a couple bite size Snickers and Milky Ways, for pumpkin pie substitute, and off to bed. UPDATE: I decided later today, to add this bit of info about a missing boat and sailor. The Canadians with whom I spent the evening last night are mentioned in the following article, and have his book aboard, and have met him several times: http://www.vancouversun.com/Sister+hopeful+missing+Halifax+sailor+will+found/2245834/story.html
The missing sailor/adventurer is named Hubert Marcoux, and he is also a single hander, but, unlike me, with many years of experience. His boat's name is Mon Pays, which is French for My Homeland. Bermuda Radio has been putting out a Pan Pan broadcast about him which started just a few days after I arrived. The folks I drank with last night were called almost immediately after he missed his arrival date, on their sat phone, by the Canadian authorities inquiring about winds, currents, drift rates, etc, in order to try to designate a search area for this man. I cannot help thinking that this could have been me and I pray for his safety every day. If he shows up anywhere in the news, would someone inform me, please? At this point, I believe it is a lost cause.

Woke this morning dreaming that Bermuda Radio was calling me by name. "Dennis Doak. Dennis Doak. This is Bermuda Radio, on channel 27!" So, was up early and still have not made coffee. Spoke to Bart about picking me up another small inverter at Harbor Freight, this morning if possible.
Will make the coffee, run the genny, and get started on the Plan B repair, and see how that goes.
Have a good holiday weekend, all, and be safe.