Balanced Once Again

Okay, so we've had a bit of a rough summer. Major breakdown in our communication, relationship, etc. etc. etc. The only thing that didn't break down was the Sue. We spent the last part of the summer coming to a balance, resolving personal issues. If you can find a couple that has lived in close quarters for as long as we have (8 years in a truck and 8 years on a boat. Some of those years overlap, by the way) and not have the down and dirty, drag out fights and disagreements, then I would say that you have a couple of brain dead people. I mean no insult to that. What I mean is that you have two people who are not individualistic, cannot think or act for themselves, but rely heavily on being one individual in two bodies. Keith and I are far from that. We met in our later years, not our younger years. Both of us were pretty set in our own ways, and we have butted heads on more than one occasion to keep our individuality and our set ways.
So, we passed the crisis, and we are now back on track.
Looking back on these many drag out arguments,  I can honestly say that I have no advice, at the moment, for anyone on how to resolve conflicts or avoid them altogether. Living in such close quarters and being around one another 24/7 is bound to bring on that feeling of "a bit too much". But, like any other couple, we just have to muddle through it.
So, as I try to get Keith to blog again on this blog, you will have to put up with my ramblings.....again. At least every few blogs. Because, until he starts blogging, I'll be posting various video's that I've taken over the years of our various sails and such on the Sue.
The previous post is the first one.
FYI - I posted another link to a new blog on Sailblogs. The previous one was member deleted (although, I think you can still view it) and I had to open a new member account to continue from the first blog. Sorry 'bout that folks. It's the fun of internet technology.

Covering a few years - like from 2011 to 2013, this is various pictures of our trip encompassing the entire Gulf Coast. Well, for Keith, anyways. From Port Isabel to Rockport, I drove the car and our boat creatures. I did the same from Rockport to Kemah. But, from Seabrook to the Keys leg of the journey, we had sold the car and traveled the route together, except for Carrabelle to Placida, which I traveled on land while Keith and his friend brought the boat down to Placida.

Beginning the Transformation of Moonlight Sue

OK, it's me again, you know, the imaginarian, and I've had a lot of time to come up with all kinds of things to make over our boat into one that is as unique as can be.
 First was the color scheme. I had already had enough of white boats. I mean, inviting someone to come over and telling them to just "look for the white boat" didn't make much sense to me. And this is important, I don't conform well to everyone's standard protocol. "Normal" just isn't part of my lifestyle. So I settled on jet black as the base color scheme, and designed the rest of the colors around that. Black is not that hard to complement and Interlux Perfection Fighting Lady Yellow seemed to be just the right shade to do just that. More on all the flak I took for choosing black later, and on some things, well, I would agree.
     One morning, as I was looking over the general appearance of the boat, I was disgusted with the the lovely shade of "chipped white paint"on the mast. "This is where it starts " I thought and made an appointment with the boatyard to remove the mast. 

     The day came and the forklift moved into position to set the lift straps under the spreaders in preparation to lift it off the shoe ( the mast is deck stepped). As they began to lift, the whole deck lifted and I yelled for them to hold (yes, all the shrouds and rigging had been disconnected). The mast was not splitting away from the mast shoe so I had to resort to unbolting the whole shoe from the deck and that enabled the whole thing to lift up. After I cut the wire to the lights and the VHF radio, the mast was removed to the yard and laid across saw horses.
 Oh, by the way, did I mention that I had never done any thing like this before and was clueless about how to proceed from here? 
     Well, how hard can this be? It's just a big aluminum pole with some wire in it that should be replaced as the wire is all black inside the covering (badly corroded). All I have to do is to slide the luff tracks out and replace the wire, right ? Simple! I'll just take this big hammer and 2x4 and knock the shoe off the bottom of the mast and....... IT's NOT MOVING! After a few minutes of pounding, I feared I would break the casting and resorted to asking the yard manager what to do. He said that heating the mast might do it, but I knew that could soften the aluminum at the foot of the mast so I opted against that. After a couple days of brainstorming I knew I had but one option; cut the shoe off the mast. 
     I had to make this a straight cut, so I wrapped tape around the mast 1.5 inches above the shoe and began to saw. The shoe eventually fell to the ground and I picked it up to peel the mast end off the shoe. I was totally astonished at how much corrosion had accumulated there! There was NO WAY that shoe would have come off any other way. But now the mast is 1.5"shorter than it was. What can that hurt, right?
     I proceeded with the rewire, complete with new steaming/deck light, anchor light, VHF antennae, and new VHF cable. I did everything right and slid all the luff tracks back in. By the way, THEY all slid in and out quite easily.
     After three coats of flawlessly applied Jet Black Perfection, I was now faced with a dilemma; all my standing rigging was now too short. What to do?

      I used to be a profile mill machinist and when we saw we were taking too much off the part the common solution was to shim up the pattern with the appropriate amount of masking tape thus moving the tracing stylus out, adding material to the part. So I fashioned two blocks of 3/4" teak wood to the shape of the bottom of the mast shoe, and using longer bolts bolted the shoe to the deck, effectively raising the mast assembly 1.5". Now the standing rigging would work.
     After installing bullet connectors to the wiring (so I wouldn't have to cut them if I had to drop the mast again), the mast was re-stepped, wiring reconnected and rigging re-tightened. I turned on the VHF radio and it worked - as did all the lights.
      I was quite proud of my newly rebuilt shiny

 BLACK mast. But this would not be the last time this mast would come down.

.  

Miscellaneous Ramblings of the Early Years

Okay, so I said Keith was ready to post again - and I wasn't fibbing about it. BUT, this situation is part of that "La Vida Loca" I was talking about in my earlier post. Essentially, it goes like this:
Me: Are you going to post on the blog tonight?
Keith: Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. I need to do that. Yeah, I'll do it.
Me: Okay 

This short conversation is followed by Keith getting out his favorite snack and drink and turning on the tunes or the tv. Of course, this is after he gets back to the Sue in the late afternoon from being on shore all day. He snacks until dinner, has dinner and falls asleep watching tv.
My new strategy will be to get the blog page set up for him to type in whatever he decides to type while I make dinner. Stay tuned to see if that works out or not.

In the meantime - you get me again. Alright, alright - I can hear the groaning through the speakers on the 'puter. Sorry, can't be helped.

Getting settled in PI after our permanent move from Nevada was really easy - and I mean, easy. Port Isabel (and South Padre Island) had a very relaxed and "laid-back" feel to them. I remember thinking that it had the same "feel" as San Diego back in the ancient age when I was growing up in "America's Finest City" (no, really,  that's how they described it - in San Diego). Also, the Queen Isabella bridge from PI to SPI reminded me of a mini Coronado Bay bridge. Another similarity was it bordered Mexico, as did San Diego. The only difference was San Diego is a huge city and PI was small (one main highway) and intimate (cozy). Yes, I felt right at home in PI.
I also felt right at home on the boat. After about 6 years (give or take) of living in the truck, the Sue was a palace.  I could stand up straight and walk more than two steps! Of course, getting in and out of the truck was easier for me than getting on and off the boat - especially when it was low tide. Several years later, when we were at a marina in Seabrook, Texas there were times in the day I couldn't get off the Sue at all during low tide. 
There were some things on the boat that I didn't like, and until it was changed (ie.....torn out and re-built), they were real frustrating irritants. 
One of these was the cabinet above the stove. I'm sure Keith will talk more about this cabinet when he gets around to talking about the changes made in the cabin (stay tuned for about 5 years! heeheehee), but right now, I'll describe this shelf in one expressive word - AAAGH!
This cabinet was two long shelves. The closest shelf surface sat lower than the furthest shelf. Neither shelf was made for convenience in either storage nor retrieval.  I tried using it for dishes and cookware; than canned and boxed food.  No dice. The cabinet was a menace. 
The sliding doors were enough to make me take a hammer to the whole thing. Actually, they didn't slide at all - not placed in the cabinet's wood grooves. The "handles" were just indents in the dark plexi-glass doors. So, the whole schameel was to get your fingers in the indents and slide the door - about 1/2 inch. This is where it would abruptly stop and break a finger nail as your hand was wrenched from the door's "handle". Repeat process until door is opened completely and your fingers have no nails left at all.  I was never soooo glad to see that cabinet gone!
The other major irritant that sticks out in my mind was the nav station chair. It was a stand alone chair that swirled - only it didn't swirl. Keith tried everything to get it to swirl, but it was old and worn out. I was glad to see that chair go, too.
As we had to deal with the old and horrible cushions in the v-berth and starboard settee (which we had laid out as a bed), Keith picked up some memory foam mattresses. Ah - memory foam. The best invention of the past century! There's nothing like a cushy cushion to cush the tushy while sleeping - and the gentle rocking of the boat, too, made for a good nights sleep. Take any of life's conveniences from me - but don't touch my memory foam!

Moving aboard...sleeping, eating, and other things

Keith has assured me that he is ready to blog again, but I'll do this post first.
After reluctantly agreeing not to stay in the motel again on our home time to Port Isabel, mainly because I wanted the use of the motel's wifi service, I began to stay on board the Sue. Naturally, I prepared myself with a new internet connection - a wifi card from Cingular (which was later taken over by AT&T). So, now I could be on board and stay in touch with fam and friends through the internet, and do my genealogy research, also, on my home time away from work.
It did not take long to adapt to living on a boat. It was, actually, quite easy. I think the only two major factors in adapting was very minimal space when cooking and using the head. Actually, using the head was almost non-existent. Neither Anchor Marina nor South Point had any type of pump out system. Keith solved the problem by bringing aboard the porta-potty that we used in the truck. If I recall correctly, Anchor Marina had a shower, but when we moved over to South Point and joined the Yacht Club there, we used the Club's showers. 
Cooking on the Sue, at first, was also nearly non-existent. Keith had to replace the stove that was in the galley first. I did use the top burners on the original stove, though. I also did a lot of meals in the slow cooker, too.  A majority of time, until the new stove went in, we just went to the local fast food joints around town.
Once the new stove was in, it became an experiment to cooking meals. The stove was on propane and the oven consisted of a strip of propane flames on the "floor" at the very back of the oven. Essentially, all of the major heat stayed in that area. Cooking times consisted of two-three times longer than average times and a lot of turning the dishes around for even cooking. Prepping was also a lesson in organization and patience what with the small areas in which to work, so I learned to use any space in the cabin that I needed. 
Most of the time, I would decide what to fix the day before, what I would need and the area's I would use. Chopping and mixing were done in the mid - to late afternoon on a TV tray. 
Why not the table in the salon (like most boats have)? Well, we did have a table, but the support pole for it was not the proper base for the table. The pole that we had caused the table to severely lean from one side to the other. So, the table was kept in the low position and made into a bed for me to sleep on after I discovered how difficult it was for me to get in and out of the v-berth at night when I needed to use the head. We used tv trays for eating meals and the Nav station for computer and other "office" business.  The trays and Nav Station also doubled for extra work space for cooking, too. 
By the time Thanksgiving rolled around in our second year on board, I was ready to do the first home-cooked holiday dinner we had had in years. While driving team, we would head back to Vegas for Thanksgiving and have our holiday meal at one of the many casino buffet's in town. Of course, there were a couple of times we didn't make it home and ended up at some truck stop restaurant for our Thanksgiving meal. It wasn't too bad a meal either. I've always been thankful and grateful for the truck stops and their attention to making life easier for the driver with the services they provided for us.
So, anyway, back to that first Thanksgiving on board the Sue. My first consideration had to be the turkey. I decided on a 12-13 lb. bird so that I could freeze the leftovers and than take it on the road with us when we got back in the truck. However, I did not trust our oven to thoroughly cook the bird (and it would take a LONG time to do so, anyway), so I started to explore alternative options for our main course. I settled on an electric roaster. It would not take as long as the oven, browning the bird is minimal in a roaster, but it would cook it through and through. Using the roaster itself was not a problem either, as we were hooked up to shore power. I used the slow cooker for the green bean casserole, and everything else was done on the stove top. 
Organization was the key to it all, really. The bird and green bean casserole had to be started first. Of course, I do an ambrosia salad on Thanksgiving every year, too, and it was always prepared the day before. Pies were store-bought at that time. I didn't discover I could bake the pies in the roaster until years later, and we didn't get off the road in time to do them anyway. I barely had enough time to defrost the turkey after getting home off the road. So, once the bird and casserole were cooking, it would be a few hours before everything else had to be done. So, peeling potatoes, and cooking up the gizzards was used for that time frame. So, I would pace myself and organize - turkey, green bean casserole, gizzards, potatoes,  Stove Top stuffing (because of time and space limits), and the gravy and rolls last. I would even put out a tray of crackers, cheese and pickle slices for Keith to munch on before the dinner was ready.Since that second year on the Sue, I have done Thanksgiving (and Christmas ham dinners, too) on board every year.
No, it wasn't that difficult to adapt to living aboard. I have lived in houses, apartments, cabins with no electricity or running water, motor homes, and trucks with sleepers. Living on a boat was just one more place to add to the list. 

I do have to add that one of the most difficult aspects is the rocking. It's not the extreme rocking while on the move, but that gentle rocking when in a slip...or at anchor....or on a mooring. Even when wide awake, it's like being in a giant baby cradle. If you don't move around, keep busy, go topside occasionally, it puts you to sleep just like a baby in a cradle. It surprises me that I don't see more cruisers always yawning!

Boat Creatures Around the Boat

So, now we get to those creatures that make their home around the boat. Actually, if you just arrived at an anchorage, dock, slip, mooring than technically it is their home and you are just visiting them.
There are many of these types of boat creatures - alligators, manatees, dolphins, pelicans, sting rays, crabs, ducks, herons and a plethora of other creatures we have yet to encounter on our travels.
Even though one may feed, hold, cuddle, pet their boat creature who lives on board, it is better (and, sometimes, the law) to not mess with any of the boat creatures around the boat. Talk to them, take pictures if you desire to do so, but don't attempt to feed, pet, touch or swim with them. Even a docile looking creature such as a dolphin can get his "fin out of joint" and inflict injury.
On our entire trip thus far, I have yet to encounter an alligator or a manatee. Keith has seen both, but not I. Manatee's, apparently, make appearances in the morning hours after sunrise. I admit, those are not my favorite hours of the day. I'll wake up around 9'ish and Keith will come down into the cabin and tell me all about the "huge manatee that was swimming around the Sue" - no picture, no rushing down to wake me up so I can rush up and take a pic. So, I now have this insatiable goal to see a manatee. Maybe one day <sigh>.

When we first bought the Sue we would take her out on day sails. Once the sails went up and the motor shut down, dolphins loved to swim with the boat. Port Isabel was great for "sailing with the dolphins". There was something very peaceful, and almost spiritual, about cruising along in the company of such graceful and playful boat creatures. 
While in Seabrook, my favorite boat creature were the ducks. Now, we did feed them crackers or day-old bread. During breeding season, we would get a Mama Duck and Daddy Duck with their passel of ducklings paddling around the boat every evening around 5 pm waiting patiently for their bread or crackers. I laugh when I think about it. They were a close-knit brood until feeding time - than it became "every duck for himself". They would chase each other away to fight for that bread or cracker crumb.

The inhabitants of water and sky are interesting creatures. If one observes them for any length of time, you can get a sense of character and individual personalities in them. They are far from helpless, as some have surmised, as they forage for their own food and provide themselves with shelter. They even, at times, find their own unique way of entertainment. I enjoy being around these boat creatures as much as I enjoy being around our on board boat creatures. 

Boat Creatures Topic on the Terrible Twosome

When Peachy arrived on the Sue in 2009, she had one year to enjoy living aboard as the only pet until the terrible twosome arrived in 2010. Of course, I'm talking about the brother and sister tuxedo cats - Face and Elvis (whose name was later changed to Ziva by Keith. So, from this point on, I will refer to her as Ziva).
Face and Ziva, along with their sibling (I called Ashes) were found on a stormy night in San Antonio by my daughter and her friend. They stopped along the side of a deserted road when they saw a number of kittens wandering around wet and frightened. Out of all the kittens, which was obviously an abandoned litter, they managed to catch three.
Ashes was adopted right away. She was a beautiful two-tone tan kitten. When the three arrived at my daughter's house, Ashes was the obvious protector of the three of them. Face. likewise, was obviously the runt of the litter, being much smaller than the others.

My daughter could not find a home for Face and Ziva, so I called Keith and presented my case for taking on these two orphans. To my surprise, he agreed and I brought them home with me.
As much as Face and Ziva, who were most likely in the 6-8 week range in age, wanted to be friends and play with Peachy, she wanted nothing to do with them. She even "warned" them away if they got to close. In time, Peachy learned to tolerate the two, and even, on occasion, they would all sleep side by side.
Face and Ziva adapted well to living aboard - so much so that I believe, in their mind, they owned the Sue. They had specific times for sleeping (kitty nap time), when they wanted their treats (kitty kandy), and when they wanted to play (anywhere between 2 am and 5 am).
Okay, so if they wanted to believe they owned the boat - fine. If they wanted their treats at a specific time - fine. If they wanted to sleep - so sleep. BUT when play time consisted of chasing each other (with occasional tackles) up and down the companionway at 2, 3, 4 or 5 o'clock in the morning - all bets are off. It became a battle that Keith and I lost until they were old enough where play time consisted of staring at each other until one swatted the other with a paw and they tusseled on the settee for a short time, eventually retreating to opposite corners and falling asleep.
I will talk more about these two little minions in later posts. They were a great source of entertainment for us over the past few years - and a great deal of heartache, too. 
If you are wondering if they ever landed in the water on occasion - yes, they did. Not as often as you might think, though. Each of them (Face, Ziva and Peachy, too) took tumbles into the water about 3-4 times each. Fortunately, we were there for almost all of them - and when we weren't there (for the cats, anyway, as they wandered even when we were away from the boat), we were close enough to shore for them to get there and make their way back to the Sue. In time, the terrible twosome learned the advantages of not taking chances when jumping from the Sue onto a dock. Peachy never left the boat without one of us with her, but we did learn to keep an eye on her. Peachy's eyesight isn't what it use to be and there were a couple of incidences where she walked right off the end of a dock or right off the bow of the Sue without noticing it was "the end of the road" (so to speak). Even at her age, she's still a good, strong swimmer!
Next blog, I'll talk about boat creatures that hang out around the boat.

Let's Talk......Boat Creatures

We've taken a break from our "normal" blogging because Keith's been busy with other business. So, guess what? You get me again!
I've been trying to come up with a topic that won't interfere with the chronology of our blog and confuse the crap out of everyone. I thought, maybe, talking about boat creatures would be a "safe" topic.
No, I'm not talking the creepy, crawly things that can settle themselves into the bowels of a vessel (although I might talk about one way they can get there thanks to "other" creatures!). 
The creatures I'm talking about are our pets. One kind are our "family" - dogs and cats, for the most part. They are the ones that travel with you wherever the wind takes you. They are our companions, protectors and boat guards.
There is another group of boat creatures. They are temporary, for the most part, and only stay for a short time (an hour, a day, a week, etc). They hang out around your vessel. They are dolphins, manatees, stingrays, ducks, pelicans and any other creature of water or sky. 
We started out, after buying the Sue, with no boat creatures at all. We were still driving team coast to coast and pets just weren't in the picture at that time. But, in 2009, we got back our dog after the passing of my mother. So, let me introduce you to Peaches.
Peaches is a Toy Poodle originally owned by Keith's mother (the namesake of our vessel). We're not sure when Peachy was born, but our best guess estimate is somewhere around the Spring of 1998. 
Peaches has had quite the life. She was born in a puppy mill and came to Susie from a person who treated her "unkindly". In her lifetime, she has lived in the mountains, desert, small towns, and big cities. She's traveled all over the country with us in the truck, visiting almost every State in the Union. She's been in weather as high as 114 degrees and as low as -9 degrees. Now, at the approximate age of 16, she has sailed the Gulf Coast with plans to continue her life's adventure to the end.
I think the most extraordinary thing about Peachy is her comforting nature. Her personality, body language and expressive eyes had brought great comfort to not only Susie in the last years of her life, but to my parents as well. Even now, with poor eyesight and hearing, arthritis in her back legs, and only a few teeth remaining, she will sit in Keith's lap (or mine) and cuddle up while showing you her love and gratitude. It is absolutely amazing.

On my next post, I'll talk about our "terrible twosome' - brother and sister tuxedo cats we brought home to keep Peachy company (or drive her crazy).

Day Sails

I have to admit, that second day sail was a lot better than the first sail we had on the Sue. With the exception of the mouth of the Channel heading out into the Gulf of Mexico (which always seemed to be a conglomerate of confused seas and breaking waves due to the two rocky jetties on either side), it really was one of those kick back in the cockpit with the sun high and the music playing kind of sail.. 

    South Padre Island from the Gulf of Mexico

The sun was glorious on that second sail. On the first sail, we actually went out on a fairly cloudy and a little too much windy day. If I recall correctly, it wasn't so much the Sue dipping in all directions, but more of the rise and fall from bow to stern. I'm used to that motion now, but it was a bit disconcerting on my very first time out on a sailboat. Being the landlubber I was at the time, I stayed seated in the cockpit on that first sail. Every time I tried to stand, I'd lose my balance. Geez, what a wimp I was! Of course, now I can scurry around on deck in 1-3 foot swells, but not back when we first purchased the Sue.
Why do I always call her "the Sue"? Basically, for two reasons - that is her name now, and it is the name I will always associate to her; and, I just plain did not like the name Grey Bird. When we had talked about re-naming her, I was two hundred percent behind that idea!

The mouth of the channel, looking at the north jetty toward SPI

So, back to that second day sail. After Keith had completely changed out ALL the rigging (except the stays - they needed it, but I think that came later), it most definitely was a different experience taking her out. I can still see the grin (and the pleased expression) on Keith's face as he unfurled that genoa and raised the main, tacking throughout the afternoon - and giving me lessons at the same time. We made it a point thereafter to always practice our tacking when out on a day sail. I at the helm and Keith working the sails. I have to laugh as I think back on that one. It took a while for us to synchronize our actions for tacking. I would turn the wheel too quickly and set the sails in irons quite a number of times before we got it right. Keith would scramble to the helm to get the Sue back in position to catch that wind in her sails.
So, it took me a while on the artistry of tacking, but what Keith was impressed with was my ability to hold the Sue on the wind point. To this day, I don't quite yet understand the mechanics of it. It's just a feel I have for keeping the Sue's sails full.

One of the things I loved about Port Isabel was all of the old Shrimp Boats.

I thought it gave a unique look and feel to the marina but some

saw it as an eyesore. A few years later a wrecking barge came through and 

demolished a great many of them. 

Our day sails in Port Isabel were actually few and far between due to a number of things; our jobs, working on the boat, and day to day business that occasionally takes up a lot of home time. Looking back at that time now, I wish we had taken more time for those day sails. With the exception of a few minor mishaps, like losing helm control getting back into our slip (that's a story for another blog post down the line) or having the engine overheat, those sails were relaxing after a couple of months or so driving coast to coast. 
I intended to write this post on my memories of moving onto Moonlight Sue and the experience of living aboard a boat for a landlubber such as I was at the time. Keith's previous post of the second outing brought back some good memories though, so I will have to write about the move in the next post (unless something Keith writes brings back another flood of memories!).

The Laguna Madre from South Padre Island had the most 

beautiful sunsets I had ever seen in my life - up to that time

anyway.

   

Improving the Sail

I was truly amazed. I mean, our first sail a total disaster! Did I, in my reverie in buying a potentially great boat, get a lemon?  OK, Keith, get a grip. Get up there and analyze what the problem was then FIX IT! How the hell Paul, the previous owner, ever sailed like this was beyond me, but I wasn't ready for this. So,when we went back on the road I ordered 60 feet of 5/8" 12 braid rope to replace the 3/4" granny knotted genoa sheets.
We got back to Port Isabel about three weeks later. I went to the marina office and there was a box with my name on it. Wow!, A Christmas present! I opened the box and there it was - 120 feet of 5/8" 12 braid rope. After marveling the wonder of all this new rope for a few minutes, I took it all back to the boat and VERY carefully (and accurately) laid it out on the dock and cut it into 2 even pieces with a kitchen knife. Next, I CUT (yes, cut) the old sheets off the genoa, as trying to untie the granny knots proved futile. 
Now, being on the road for weeks at a time gives one a lot of time to read and  I was totally immersed in the sailing thing.  I was reading about everything from knots to navigation. Now it was time to tie my first "knautical  knot". Lets see, this end over that loop and then through the clew ring and then under the loop and around the back of this part of the rope then .. . look at the book again . . . no, this goes OVER this end and . . . this looks really easy in the book! ! The clew of the genoa flapping in the wind didn't help either. OK, so I was getting a little taste of how a minor repair (or upgrade) on a boat could turn into a major task. 
After about a hour of wrestling with the clew of this uncooperative sail, I got two pretty nice bowlins into the sail and reeved the two sheets through the blocks and back to the genoa sheet winches. 
With the exasperation of my task slowly turning into excitement, I announced to Carol that it was time for our second sail. I just had to know if my fix would really solve the problem. 
This time we took a different route out to open water, which proved to be a lot less stressful, but took a little longer than the other way. Less stress was becoming more appealing than low water. Once we were beyond the Santiago Pass jetties and approaching the inner buoys, came the moment of truth. This would prove whether I was a real sailor to Carol (and myself), or just a cluge making up excuses for my inability to sail.
I quickly uncleated the fors'l control line and pulled our new $140 sheets and watched as the sail took the wind. I set her on a close haul and as the wind was running about 12 to 14 knots, I let her run there a few minutes while I contemplated  a tack to starboard.
"Ready about". Ready! Hard a'lee" I snapped the helm over to starboard and at the same time yanked the port sheet out of the self tailing winch while I started pulling the starboard sheet in, at the same time maintaining control of the helm. As the genoa came across the deck, I quickly wound the starboard line on the winch, set it in the self  tailer and sheeted in until the sail was set the way I wanted. Grey Bird settled in to her new tack, and as I  set the helm on her new course, a whole new wave of awe overtook me. Although a bit rusty in tacking maneuvers, I did it. My suspicion about the granny knots in the genoa clew (and subsequent fix) worked. 
     We had a wonderful sail that afternoon, and I tacked several more times with no hang ups in the sail. I could see that I needed a lot more practice, but was confident I would improve each time I went out. The best part was that I was able to show Carol that I was not just boasting, but really did know how to sail. I think she was greatly relieved..

Calmer seas and company for our second day sail.

Grey Bird

The "original look" of the mast.

Even the cockpit will eventually get a makeover

The First Year and Resistance Really is Futile!

Keith will probably focus on the work he did on the Sue for the first year we owned her. 
For myself, the first year of our life with the Sue was really one of turmoil - literally, an emotional up and down roller coaster ride culminating with Dad's passing in November, 2006. 
Looking back on that first year - it's all kind of a blur for me. I do know that we were only at Anchor Marina for a short time. Keith finally got fed up with grounding the Sue on the couple three times we (or, sometimes, just him) took her out.  
I remember taking her out one time where we hit a shoal almost directly under the Queen Isabella Causeway (the bridge that connects Port Isabel with South Padre Island, a lot like the Coronado Bay bridge in San Diego).  I remember we radioed BoatUS for help, but ended up cancelling that request when Keith managed to "rock" the Sue loose. 
I have to digress here a minute, and do make mention that while we were at Anchor Marina, I do remember spending more time in a room at White Sands than I did on the Sue. One of my hobbies is internet genealogy, which I loved to do, and I could not get a wifi signal on the Sue at that time (eventually, I would get a Cingular wifi flashdrive, but I did not have it yet). When we got off the road for our days off, all I wanted to do was everything that I could not do while working. Oh, I could do it here and there with the little downtime that we had, but it was always interrupted with the work schedule. On our very limited days off, I could do my internet "work" without the interruption of that schedule. So, for a while, I went into the motel while Keith went to the Sue during the day and worked on her "little idiosyncrasies" to transform her into a better looking and more efficient vessel. For a while, Keith stayed at the motel and went to the Sue each morning, returning in the afternoon (or, at least, by dinner time). Eventually, though, he wanted to stay on the boat....and he did so, coming back the next morning to tell me how absolutely wonderful it was with the gentle rocking (I believe he even used the words "like a baby in a cradle").
I knew what all that was about - he wanted us out from under the cost of the motel and staying on the Sue each time we took time off in Port Isabel.
And, that's what it was, time off somewhere other than our work designated "home" base. See, as soon as the Sue was purchased, Keith called our work and changed his home status from "Henderson, Nevada" to "Port Isabel, Texas", while I left my home base in Henderson. So began the battle of "the move". 
He was ready to move - a new boat to work on, a new place to live - he was excited over it all. I understood that. I just wasn't ready to make that move. I loved living in Vegas. I loved the hotels, the restaurants, the nighlife (and, yes, the gambling). But, it was also the change itself, and the emotional roller coaster ride from that year. Things were moving fast - and, to me, it was like gaining speed on a downhill. I felt out of control of my own life - my own destiny.
So, during that year - we bought a boat, we moved the boat from one marina to another, we moved from one State to another (not to mention going from a "dry heat" State to a "humid heat" State. My God, it took several years for me to get acclimated to humidity), and at the end of that first year, Dad passed away. I can't say it was a bad year. I can't say it was a good year. It was just a roller coaster ride year.
So, we battled back and forth over my "move" to Port Isabel. Finally, he said he would be flying to Vegas on our next time off (we were now spending all of our time off from work in P.I.) and getting our car (we had been renting a vehicle during out time there) and he wanted to know if he needed to clear out my stuff from our storage unit and move it to Texas,  too. Ah, the moment of truth.....was I ready? 
After careful thought and consideration, I knew resistance was futile. While he jumped in 100% with the move to P.I. (and the boat), I hesitated. It was time now for me to jump in 100%, too. Even though I was still getting use to the Sue, I loved Port Isabel. My decision? I told him yes, pick up all of our belongings and let's make the move permanent. I can't quite remember why I didn't fly to Vegas with him. I seem to recall him telling me that it wasn't necessary. He was just flying in, renting a U-haul, closing up storage and getting back asap (he was back in 2 days). I also remember that someone needed to stay behind to fire up the truck to keep the batteries from getting too low (our batteries in the truck really sucked at that time, and we needed to idle the truck for about 1/2 hour every couple of days). 
So, now, we both pledged our loyalty to the Moonlight Sue. And, even though we had more personal battles between us, more hurdles to jump, more turmoil to sort through in our personal lives - this was one pledge we have never regretted.

So, back to everything about the Sue in that first year. Keith had really had enough after grounding on a shoal at the entrance to the fingers heading back to Anchor Marina. This time the grounding was set, and he had to call in BoatUS to be pulled out. He told them, "Get me over this shoal and I'll take care of the rest". They did and he sailed straight to South Point Marina (on the other side of P.I., near the Swing Bridge) and rented a slip. Problem solved.


After our move to South Point Marina. Click on the pic and you can probably see the tractor/trailer in the parking lot. The back of the Marina Office is the 2-story building on the left, just beyond the entrance to the lift area. Out of picture range to the left of that entrance is the boat barn and the boat yard. The building on the right housed Homeland Insecurity, the shower rooms and the storage lockers.

I remember some of my first impressions of South Point. It wasn't "state of the art", but it did have a boat yard, a yacht club (of which we are now members) and a huge parking area....and I mean huge. We could now park the tractor/trailer where we had the boat. Prior to this, we had to park it in an empty lot across from the motel or at Wal-Mart. Also, eventually, the marina owner would get upset with the truck there, but we were allowed to park it behind the boat yard.  Either way, we could now keep our eye on it without making a special trip every day to make sure the truck was safe and the batteries didn't die.
It was also during this first year that Keith painted the mast and boom with wrinkle black (changing it later on to just a smooth black), and my daughter and grandson came to visit from Colorado. This was our first visit from family (and my second paid vacation ever).
I drove to San Antonio to pick them up at the airport there. The plan was to spend a few days in San Antonio sight-seeing than head on back to P.I. But this was July and the humidity was so high that I would get soaked just standing outside. After a very "soggy" trip to Riverwalk and lunch at Landry's, we decided a nice cool air-conditioned environment was in order. But all we could come up with was a shopping mall. So, we chose the best one - a multi-level huge mall on the west side of San Antonio. We had a great time, too. We shopped, window-shopped, did lunch in the food court and laughed, joked and "played' around. I spent an obscene amount of money, but it was all worth it because we had a ball!


The Lighthouse in Port Isabel
We eventually packed up and made our way to P.I.  We got them a room at White Sands (actually, it was more than "a room", it was a bloody suite complete with a separate bedroom, living area and kitchen). I took them all over Port Isabel and South Padre Island (can you say "beach store"? There are eleventy-nine beach stores on the island!). We went to lunch at The Lost Galleon and dinner at Pirate's Landing. And, of course, a day sail on the Moonlight Sue. It was a wonderful visit. I had a great time (and, I think, they did, too). And, as I always do when I have to say goodbye to my children after visiting with them, I got teary-eyed and sad.

My daughter, grandson  at Pirate's Landing

After the visit with my daughter and grandson, I kept busy with genealogy. Keith and I also started talking about his plans to change the complete look of Moonlight Sue. When he told me what he was envisioning, I had to admit that it sounded beautiful. So began the year of "The Transformation of the Moonlight Sue".

My grandson doing his best pirate "argh" outside The Lost Galleon after lunch.

I'd Rather Be Sailing.....Really!

WORK!?!! Wuddya mean I gotta go back to work! Hey, in case ya didn't notice, we just bought a new YACHT! We're  gettin' ready to live the dream. Driving this truck pays the bills, I know, but does that mean our first sail has to wait? So, ok,  the boat was now side-tied at the end of the dock at Anchor Marina. three days on the road and we can come back for another week off. NOT!! So off we went on another "land journey" - but it only lasted 3 years....er.....I mean......three weeks (but it did seem like years). 
     Now driving sucks, but the one thing it does do is give one a lot of time to think and plan. Boy, did I have a lot of planning to do. All  I could think about was getting rid of that name, Grey Bird, changing her color, putting in new interior upholstery, and, of course, taking her out for our 1st big boat sail. Three weeks out would give us three days off and a good amount of time to begin to get a feel of the boat.
     Finally........ back home in Port I. We got there in the afternoon, so we just checked in to good ol' White Sands motel. The next morning we got up, had breakfast, and went over to the boat. Mark came out to greet us and let us know about the rental fees and such, so now I was paying my first slip rent on my own boat. Business done, I announced we would be taking it out for our first sail. 
     Did I mention Gray Bird was about 24 feet bigger than the last boat I had sailed? And that it was about 15 years ago when I did? Splashdance and Grey Bird had one thing in common  (if you don't count the fact that they both floated), and that was they both had a main sail and a genoa. I was familiar with this sail plan, so I felt confident I could sail her. 
While we're mentioning things, did I mention that this was also Carols' first sail EVER? 
Now, she and I had talked about taking a little introductory sail and had even talked to a captain in Port I about going out for an overnight sail with him, just to see if Carol was ok with sailing. As I talked with the guy, though, he seemed vague and really kind of disinterested, so I sidelined that plan/ Actually, I found out later that he only had a 28 foot Bristol and it wouldn't have been a very good experience for her. 
     So, anyway, we boarded the boat and I started the little Yanmar 2-cylinder engine (which only had 600 plus hours on it). While we let it warm up, we put things away and settled in. I untied the dock lines as Mark ,the dock master, looked on and pushed the bow away from the dock. We were tied between two other boats, so I felt a little uneasy, but as I ran back to put her in gear, we motored away from the dock nicely. I turned hard to port and we were off down the last finger of the channel, heading out to the Queen Isabella bridge. 

Christening the Sue.

    
 Now, I was not familiar with the local waters, and as we went under the bridge, little did I know we were heading into low water. First mistake - keeping my eyes glued to the depth sounder. I guess the water gods took pity on us "first time fools" and let us pass out to the seaward channel without grounding. And yes, that would be our only "free pass" through that area. 
With the end of the jetties in sight, it was time to show Carol that all that talk about "I really can sail a boat". "I know how to tack and jibe" and "I do know a genoa sheet from a halyard" was not just talk. So out rolled the genoa and we bore off to port. I hadn't felt this good since I first sailed Splashdance. 
With everything going so well, I looked at Carol. She was just smiling and enjoying the ride. For her first sail, she was taking it like an "old saltette" (Would that be the feminine version of "old salt"?). 
Looks like she's doing fine to port, so lets try a tack to starboard. It shouldn't be too hard. All the lines lead to the cockpit, so all I have to do is turn hard to starboard and change the genoa across to the starboard side, right? No problem. After all, isn't that what I did on Splashdance? So, turn to starboard, lock off the helm, uncleat the port gen sheet and pull the starboard sheet through to. . . I said "pull the starboard sheet"  what the hell is going on here!! The sheet would NOT pull beyond the starboard shroud, and with the sail flapping itself to death, I soon gave up and turned back to port and again tried to trim the sail, but now it just kept hanging op on the port shroud. I was getting more frustrated by the second and thought Carol must be thinking what a B S'er I was. ("Huh!! Can't even get out of the harbor jetties under sail, and with a good wind, too? Sailor? Yeah, right!"). And she would have been right, except that I had done this a thousand times in Splashdance and I knew it should have worked now. 

Just a short time at the helm....for a quick photo.
You know, when I looked over at Carol, she was just sitting there smiling like she was enjoying herself. I was amazed. She later told me that she thought it was quiet normal and was actually enjoying it. Well, I wasn't enjoying it at all, and was totally frustrated with this ridiculous display of inept seamanship!
     Beaten, I pulled the stubborn genoa in, started the little Yanmar, and motored back to the slip. Mark was there to help me get back on the side-tie, and after I shut everything down, I went forward to see what had defeated me. There it was - two of the BIGGEST, ugliest granny knots I had ever seen tied into the clew of the genoa! There was no way those could have crossed the shrouds; and how Paul (the previous owner) ever sailed her was beyond me. So, this is where a long list of changes and upgrades would begin. Oh, and my first of many calls to order from West Marine!

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                                         For another photo shot

Happy at    the helm!

Surprise! She ours!

So, there I was, on my first ever two-week paid vacation.

We toured the hill country of Texas - checking out all the places that Keith's ancestor's had lived, visiting San Antonio's River Walk and the Alamo, driving down to Keith's hometown of Raymondville and finishing up our vacation in Port Isabel.

We originally decided to just charter so that I could get the experience of sailing. But there was no charters available at the time, and Keith was busy with broker Bill checking out the Mark IV and discussing other options. So, I hunkered down during that time, in the motel, on the computer and organizing all the info and pictures of my first genealogy "bug-hunting" excursion (that term came from a cousin who had done some amazing genealogy road trips of her own).

In between Keith's hunt for the right boat, we enjoyed visiting various places in Port Isabel and South Padre Island. We had dinner at Pirate's Landing in PI one night, and dinner at Blackbeard's in SPI on another night. We enjoyed an afternoon at the Wanna Wanna beach bar. It had a great view of the Gulf as it was right on the beach on the Gulf side of the island. We toured Sea Turtle, Inc on SPI, which began a love of turtles and their preservation for me.

Now, in all this, I really didn't even imagine we would be heading back to work as new owners of a 36' 1981 Cherubini Hunter. Keith told me when we arrived in Port Isabel that he would be looking for the "right" boat, but not buying until he was ready and the boat "felt" right. I guess the boat felt "right", because I get this call while at the motel that he wanted me to see this boat Bill had shown him. I could hear the excitement in his voice, so I said sure, come get me.

In all honesty, my reaction (which I kept to myself - reserving my opinions until I've taken the whole tour) upon seeing the Grey Bird's exterior was 'this is small....where are we going to put out our chairs on that deck? There's no room'. My reaction to the interior was, ' this is samll'.

But Keith was right, I did notice it was clean. The wood paneling needed some care, the cushions were tattered and ugly, but it had potential. 

Okay, so I was totally clueless and had no idea what kind of lifestyle I was getting myself into - and it took a long time to adjust to it. But I can honestly say now, that I can't imagine any other kind of lifestyle. I can't say every day has been a challenge to triumph over, but life is never mundane or average. I can't say that every day has been an adventure, but there have been more adventures than any we would have living on a ranch, or in an apartment in the city.

So, being the clueless person that I was at that time - and seeing how much Keith liked the boat, the gleam it put in his eye - I gave the Grey Bird a thumbs up. 

I was surprised at how quickly that boat was purchased and became ours. For some reason, I was thinking that it would take weeks - or even months, like a house, and we would own it after two or three more trips to Port Isabel. Imagine my surprise when Keith walked into our room at White Sands and told me we now owned the Grey Bird. A few written checks and signed paperwork and the deal was done. Whoa, that was quick - I blinked and we became boat owners.

Anchor Marina. 

I have always said that getting a boat was Keith's dream....and it was his dream. I never, in my wildest imagination, would have ever thought of it for myself.  It made him happy - which made me happy for him. Over time, I adopted that dream of his - a process of embracing it, pushing it away, embracing it - adjusting, adapting - until it sneaks into the soul and settles in (quite nicely, too).

After the purchase - and before leaving Port Isabel to get back to work - the Moonlight Sue had to be moved out of her private slip to a side-tie at Anchor Marina in the Fingers. 

We actually had the name change completed on the sale papers, as we had already made the decision to re-name the boat we would buy.

I came up with the name on one of our "truck talks" on the road. Sue was Keith's mothers' name. She had passed on a few years before we bought the Hunter. I knew that, if she was there, she would be excited about Keith fulfilling a dream of his - and we wanted her with us always. So, I tried out a few different "Sue" names in my head and came up with "Moonlight Sue".  Keith liked it and when the Grey Bird became ours - we christened her "Moonlight Sue".

 Keith on our last afternoon of our vacation. With no time left to take her out, Keith is                          goofing off his anxiousness to get out to sea. A classic picture - of which Keith disagrees.

We spent the last afternoon on the Sue at Anchor Marina. Keith was just chomping at the bit to take her out on a day sail, but we had run out of time. It would have to wait until our next time off. We spent the afternoon talking about plans for us, the boat, our lives. And we were excited. Everything was coming together.

Little did I know (since he never tells me anything until the last minute), that Keith had some very definite plans to personalize the Sue. And, quite frankly, between him and his son, Branden, had created one of the most beautiful boats I had ever seen in my life.

Wrong Boat, Right Purchase

So , ok. What's another broken dream? So what! The Mark IV was just exactly what I was looking for. I mean, I had it all figured out - center cockpit (so we stay nice and high - and dry), ketch - rigged, as I am a strong believer in redundancy (a second mast should one go down), forward and aft staterooms for a little privacy (and 2 heads are better than one) and 44' is a nice size. Yep, she was perfect and I could have fixed her problems; but $50,000 was just out of range. 
See, here's the problem; I'm just like my mother was - I want it and I want it NOW! Saving another $30,000 would have taken another 2 years, and that was just too long to wait to go sailing. So, we went back to our room at White Sands Motel to talk about what to do next.
We spent the next day shopping and sightseeing, and that afternoon we figured we'd check the internet and see what as there - nothing. Oh well, end of the line, I guess. 
Bill called later that evening and said he wanted to show me a boat that I might be interested in and could I meet him in the morning for coffee at Marchan's (the motel restaurant). 
The next morning, after coffee, Bill took me around the corner to an apartment building in "the fingers"- an area of the bay consisting of 4 or 5 parallel channels. and as we walked around to the back there was a slip in the channel. In the slip was tied "the wrong boat!". 
Grey Bird  was a 1981 36' Hunter......aft cockpit - wrong!........sloop rig - wrong!........forward v-berth - wrong! And she was not really as big as I wanted. She was every thing I DIDN'T want; but as I looked her over,  inside and out, I saw a lot of potential. What really got me was the cut of her bow and the overall lines of her decks - totally clean! There were no dorade vents, no protrusions on the decks - nothing but a clean aerodynamic shape. She was clean inside, too, although the upholstery was a bit ragged. Everything seemed to work okay, so I asked Bill what the selling price was, and he said $25,000.....but offer $19,000. Well, okay, lets see what happens.
 In the office at Anchor Marina, he phoned the owner of the boat and made the offer, of which the owner immediately refused  - so it was thanks and good bye. Bill and I talked for a short while and, during the course of the conversation, he revealed that the owner and his wife were going through a divorce and that was the reason he had to sell the boat. It was quite seaworthy - nothing to do with boat problems.  While we were talking, about 5 or 6 minutes later, the phone rang and it was the owner . . . accepting my offer!
I told Bill that before I submitted a formal offer, I'd better get Carol's approval. So, we drove back to the motel,  picked up Carol and went back to the boat. Now, Carol didn't know zip about sailboats, but she did know clean and good size so her review didn't take long.
I submitted the formal offer pending sea trials, which was to take place the next day - except Bill couldn't be there, but he did arrange for the marina owner, Mark, to go out with me. The next day was cloudy and a little rainy. Mark was complaining about the bad weather, but I insisted on the trials, so off we went.
We headed out the channel and east along the Queen Isabella bridge.  I wanted to raise the mainsail to check the rigging. This really upset Mark, so on this, I relented. Hey, the engine started and ran great, the steering felt tight and responsive, and the depth sounder worked well. Mark was pissin' and moanin' about the weather the whole time, so as we neared the end of the bridge, we turned back to the marina and called it a good sea trial. 
The wife of Grey Bird's owner signed the papers over the next day. so after that, I wrote out the checks to the soon-to-be former owner of the Grey Bird, Texas Parks and Wildlife, Bill's commission, and, of course, the sales tax.
Carol and I now owned a sailboat named Grey Bird !! (That name had to go!}