tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57803159603540391552024-02-06T22:15:09.178-05:00Liquid DesertJust us and our cat heading out on the liquid desert looking for new lands to explore.Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-718760474595221102020-08-27T16:12:00.002-04:002020-08-27T16:12:30.802-04:002020: It's Not A Very Good Year - For Anyone<p> <b>All of our plans for leaving the Keys went up in smoke - or I should say in pandemic.</b></p><p><b>This has, probably, been the most difficult year yet.</b></p><p><b>Keith goes to shore and does all the necessaries for daily life. I'm on the boat - all the time.</b></p><p><b>First, I can't wear a mask. I can't breath in one, never could. Remember the old Halloween costume plastic masks? I could never wear those either. A type of claustrophobia, maybe?</b></p><p><b>Second, I have a bit of a protest going with the marina we're in. When the head dude yells at someone to the point that someone's blood pressure rises, and paramedics are called in - well, I have a big problem with that.</b></p><p><b>This head dude has anger issues. And he has not one iota of customer service skills. When I did hang around the marina, I used to call him Smiley. Not once did I ever see him smile.</b></p><p><b>I was nice and polite whenever I had interaction with him, which was rare. Basically, because I witnessed how he went off on people (including Keith), and I wanted NO part of that! But, I gotta say, when his verbal abuse causes health issues in a Senior Citizen, it becomes a real problem for me. So, I have personally boycotted the marina. Sad to say, most of the marina staff have become carbon copies of this head dude, which makes it very pleasurable to go there.</b></p><p><b>We have had few days of pleasant - mostly they are Sundowners with photo's of the setting sun. I love sunsets. It tells me that we made it through another day.</b></p><p><b><br /></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0nJLsX99P7wER3KAEv62EPZeL13uftUuWp6COMixav12X_xbYD-4ek2XIpjNUuCGypSWeMr_O27GIxRbcyTvWJnua5swvmSfgvTSQrWk9_Rq0ofIeYHeQ0pXYnZnWOHpoRLIJnAL3FM/s1206/20180816_195609_HDR-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1206" data-original-width="1176" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT0nJLsX99P7wER3KAEv62EPZeL13uftUuWp6COMixav12X_xbYD-4ek2XIpjNUuCGypSWeMr_O27GIxRbcyTvWJnua5swvmSfgvTSQrWk9_Rq0ofIeYHeQ0pXYnZnWOHpoRLIJnAL3FM/s640/20180816_195609_HDR-1.jpg" /></a></b></div><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b><br /></b></p>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-89939544459033705372020-03-11T21:24:00.002-04:002020-03-11T21:24:55.223-04:00Back onlineKnow what happens when you kill your laptop?<br />
It takes forever to get another one, but I finally got one.<br />
I'll try to catch up, but will be online sporadically until I can get a new isp.Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-61744436892115579282017-11-06T18:14:00.001-05:002017-11-06T18:14:20.519-05:00Dinghy photoWhoa, two posts in one day. A first.....or second.<br />
I realized I have not posted what Lumpy looks like now.<br />
So, here it is. Still needs some work. Been busy with things like.....weddings, memorial service, hurricanes....you know, typical stuff.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the dock in FMB, after it was raised from the deep</td></tr>
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<br />Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-9743983135795388652017-11-06T16:00:00.001-05:002017-11-06T16:04:19.685-05:00Hurricane Irma<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Well, here it is November already. This season has been a wild ride. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Early September had us watching a new storm developing - and a doozy of a storm it was, too. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Irma - the wicked sea witch of the Atlantic Hurricane Season - was projected to bear down on the Keys. And she did.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'll post my story another time - maybe on my sailblog blog; but, needless to say, we packed up everything and headed out. We meant to head to Texas, but we quickly discovered the boat was not ready for that kind of trip, so we ended up in Fort Myers Beach and hunkered down with the help of a couple of friends. We made it through, just losing one dinghy (actually, both sank but our diving friend, Robin, retrieved Lumpy - the dinghy we made). Here are some pics of the Curse of the Sea Witch Irma disaster.</b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Florida Bay in a Circle of Cloud</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading out of BKH</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>After taking on water, and having the engine cause us a bit of grief, we were towed to a public dock in FMB. He set us at the end of the dock where the Sue was pounding against the dock as the wind was off the beam, so we felt it necessary to haul her, by hand, to the inside dock for better protection against the wind. Unfortunately, she grounded near shore, and it took us the better part of the day to get her back to the dock where we wanted her, pulling and tugging and winching the lines until we could tie her proper. Irma was less than 24 hours away, but the winds were already picking up quite rapidly.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>We secured the Sue as best we could, and dialed the number that was given to Florida residents for transportation to a shelter. But, having no television on board, we missed the newscast from a few hours prior, the Governor stating that if people hadn't moved by now, they were plum out of luck. We tried the police department for FMB. Their recorded message said they were closed on the weekends (it was a Saturday). We finally called our friend, Robin, who called his friend, Scott, and he came and got us, taking us to a Condo rental where he worked. Just in time, too. Talk about cutting it close!</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Irma made landfall the following day just south of us, in Bonita Springs.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Here are some pics from friends that posted online at BKH.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Sue made it just fine - with the exception of about 2 inches of water in the cabin. As I said, we lost one dinghy. We spent some time in FMB, then made it down to Naples, and stayed a few days there before finally making it back about a month and a week after Irma. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The Keys are still considered a disaster area, but much progress has been made since Irma. It will take some time before things are back to normal, but probably never as it was before that Sea Witch blew through.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-85463080831502572432017-07-17T12:00:00.001-04:002017-11-07T14:29:23.186-05:00Happening<b>I know it's been a while getting another post on this blog. I actually have a fair few that I do. We've been relatively busy with other things - including maintenance (and systems going out) on the <i>Sue. </i>We also had a wedding to attend - ours. Here are a few pics.</b><br />
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<b><br /></b>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-7682113205330525442016-05-15T13:00:00.003-04:002016-05-15T13:20:00.000-04:00Dinghy Update<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sometimes, I think Keith is brilliant in his ideas, solutions, fixes. Other times, I think he's certifiable and needs to be committed to a hospital ward.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Such was the case a few weeks back when he told me he had someone to help him bring the "work in progress" dinghy to the boat. Okay, not certifiable, good idea.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Than he got certifiable. He couldn't get schedules to coincide with the guy to get the dinghy to the <i>Sue</i>, getting impatient and feeling the five bucks a night cost was wasting money (it was), he decided to tow the dinghy out with our "deflatable" dinghy (we call it that because the entire front end is flat and there are a number of leaks on the port side).</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>He couldn't find any of the transport carts for the work room, so he drags the dinghy to the front dinghy docks where the deflatable is located. It's actually quite a distance for dragging something, so I'm sure it wasn't good on the bottom of this work in progress.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUS7Hsg0r57f0jgPRNHaIP1z-Sc73V9HkDLpJRg9pcJCKh77mYGfXFhqbo1VSVTfZFGDG82yS_EN3lzeQ8qZ5Y5tRQy2XdKpC_6oVNJS4dD63geRsdK_4CMvuLNigwQCBeKcp8M15IQic/s1600/IMG_0335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUS7Hsg0r57f0jgPRNHaIP1z-Sc73V9HkDLpJRg9pcJCKh77mYGfXFhqbo1VSVTfZFGDG82yS_EN3lzeQ8qZ5Y5tRQy2XdKpC_6oVNJS4dD63geRsdK_4CMvuLNigwQCBeKcp8M15IQic/s320/IMG_0335.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>A couple of his buddies saw him, and helped him get the dinghy into the water. So, he tows this sad looking dinghy shell out to the <i>Sue</i>.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Okay, this is where he is certifiable. He couldn't wait for a nice, sunny, low wind day. He did it on a windy, cold, cloudy, "we're going to get rain any minute now" day. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>He comes in the cabin and tells me what he's doing. Looking at the sky through the hatch, and hearing the wind blow, I just shake my head. I think, maybe, after 20 years, I'm getting used to "bizarre". </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Anyhow, the water is too rough for him to get the dinghy on the deck, but he tries anyway. He attaches the lifting line fore and aft and starts to raise it out of the water.....when it started to fold. Great. He dropped it back in the water, but now, it was half full of water. Now, he's depressed and pissed, convinced it will sink by morning.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Okay, nothing we can do about it now. If it's still afloat by morning, we'll haul it to the deck together.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Lo and behold, the morning brings decent weather....and it's still afloat. But instead of waiting for me to help him (impatience is not one of his best qualities), he hoists the dinghy up on the deck by himself, by clamping sturdy wood to the port and starboard shears and lifting it up to the deck. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>By the time I got up on deck the dinghy was set in place at the bow. Keith is still pissed, convinced that there is no saving it and wants to chuck it back overboard and watch it sink. We'll just buy a used dinghy, he tells me.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjq63xBYNkPdM4ieU7tylA8h5ZuYM_8slEOI1s3rN5WUPkstCRBYi8AkzFSvCVy12_xHwiCYl_r8CYc1J_D0xwUXZdah-A9SNoOsTWMkorbARXqE-H1prEFYSX8azs0WC8vw30QofnyU/s1600/IMG_0339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjq63xBYNkPdM4ieU7tylA8h5ZuYM_8slEOI1s3rN5WUPkstCRBYi8AkzFSvCVy12_xHwiCYl_r8CYc1J_D0xwUXZdah-A9SNoOsTWMkorbARXqE-H1prEFYSX8azs0WC8vw30QofnyU/s320/IMG_0339.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Oh, no...no...no. We didn't spend all this money to give up. I asked him if it could be saved. He wasn't sure. Okay, let's tarp it down for the coming weather (still windy....rain expected) to keep it as dry as possible (and to dry it out), take a couple of days and think about this dilemma. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bottom line.....he repaired the collapse the following weekend. He is now working on it once again, with it sitting on the <i>Sue</i>. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I do believe he might be the only person to build a boat on a boat.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>He's certifiable.</b></span><br />
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<br />Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-6720958835009633012016-04-04T09:12:00.001-04:002016-04-04T09:15:17.937-04:00Pause on the Dinghy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRRiImhduHzGfl-k-fbnEgjOAPUBvNOUPpsLMZ_xYW42MmivqsecaQ4HstsuVwSrN2S9OZje2HyBPas-p1CY2fGa3YcUkgMWyZgCP-X3JD_0c0rIt5ibeoaPCL4ThzqFUThTW0U1Rc5c/s1600/IMG_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRRiImhduHzGfl-k-fbnEgjOAPUBvNOUPpsLMZ_xYW42MmivqsecaQ4HstsuVwSrN2S9OZje2HyBPas-p1CY2fGa3YcUkgMWyZgCP-X3JD_0c0rIt5ibeoaPCL4ThzqFUThTW0U1Rc5c/s320/IMG_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I think, maybe, a good rule of thumb for doing any planned project is to not accept kind offers of help. Sometimes, that can be difficult, as some just jump in without really extending the offer.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Such was the case in our third session of building our new sail dinghy. The form had been completed, and it had been time to fiberglass the outer hull. Things did not go as planned.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I have observed with a project such as this being accomplished in the public eye, there are different types of "looky-loo's" that wander past the project room.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSm3ffr6wxaBj5EkhDbcFmmauCgt79sCKmHZziHv1aSjC0I1GT61UaqM3qb5BfmqRqnkfvNmG6ahOsLhnOpBuUi5xvryVW6r4fJ1pqBnj9I2Lor7ffW10dxGvIVGZRaHzxZhn1ihem3Mc/s1600/IMG_0016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSm3ffr6wxaBj5EkhDbcFmmauCgt79sCKmHZziHv1aSjC0I1GT61UaqM3qb5BfmqRqnkfvNmG6ahOsLhnOpBuUi5xvryVW6r4fJ1pqBnj9I2Lor7ffW10dxGvIVGZRaHzxZhn1ihem3Mc/s200/IMG_0016.JPG" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The first type walk by and glance, but continue walking.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The second walk by, take a look, than walk a-ways, turn around and come back for a second look.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The third type walk by, stop at the bay door entrance, talk amongst themselves about the project, and, eventually, continue on their way.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The fourth type is like the third, but they will talk to Keith about the project, ask questions, etc.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The fifth type is like the fourth type, but they don't ask questions - they will tell Keith how to do it. They are the experts.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Out of the fifth type comes at least one person, who insists it is being done all wrong, and wants to help "fix it". This type also, somewhat, blends in with the beautiful and well-meaning friends who just wants to help with such a tremendous time-consuming project, but does not know anything or have any knowledge of the task at hand.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Now, in my opinion, there is nothing wrong with any of these types of "looky-loo's". The first four are simply curious. The fifth can become a lesson in patience, at times. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>It is the other two types that come out of the fifth that one has to risk offending, but say no, as politely as possible.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>This is where Keith and I fail miserably. We do not like to offend people - or hurt feelings of people. So, we didn't say no.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVRuY-AfYBU9VuW08eePsgx90QVTLTLToNxcvUNmf-xGlNulUtJC_8igZSybfOj7hblITqWCOpMYLOxVmx50tGjcwMDgfMeo-AQG-RUdyuUQ56qaj9kedOLLk0s9gVGFbIUIPBNbCO2w/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVRuY-AfYBU9VuW08eePsgx90QVTLTLToNxcvUNmf-xGlNulUtJC_8igZSybfOj7hblITqWCOpMYLOxVmx50tGjcwMDgfMeo-AQG-RUdyuUQ56qaj9kedOLLk0s9gVGFbIUIPBNbCO2w/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>As a result, the fiberglass applied to the outer hull now needs a grinding and sanding almost down to the first layer, or more, and the bow section needs to be completely redone. More time. More money. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>First lesson learned. It is better to politely say no.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJnuNPZakkGrTvzpOnqhrHXLA3c1yl-zWVxa2WjLmSb2KBITI-XEfEfdbQjP3rOv4WNHeGWeaSl5dvaXc3OlgN0boO8sFcHBwYbyu2XxYy4b4kPJVUddkLEuoj43zmXIRYK5GWG0xsUSE/s1600/IMG_0049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJnuNPZakkGrTvzpOnqhrHXLA3c1yl-zWVxa2WjLmSb2KBITI-XEfEfdbQjP3rOv4WNHeGWeaSl5dvaXc3OlgN0boO8sFcHBwYbyu2XxYy4b4kPJVUddkLEuoj43zmXIRYK5GWG0xsUSE/s320/IMG_0049.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>On top of that, Keith has been told he cannot grind or sand in the project room. So, our only other option is to find a way to bring the project out to the boat and do that here. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>We did not work on the dinghy over Easter weekend. Keith worked on it a bit yesterday. He wants to get the inner hull done before repairing the outer hull. I did not know he was going to work on the inner part, but having been sunburned and energy-drained from Saturday's trip down to Boca Chica for the Air Show, I probably would not have been much help anyhow.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwj6vSwSDJqSCIynz-oz9RzU2cCzCTY2DTwfJFk2Ti5ornONemw4-dYBhE9Lx6cT3tstpBiLsCq2n-2yKSQWlFnPWyF_aiRyAjji2VoxWKHaM_uRsA_DPslH857B9F5SB7LIIYdwtCXzg/s1600/IMG_0050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwj6vSwSDJqSCIynz-oz9RzU2cCzCTY2DTwfJFk2Ti5ornONemw4-dYBhE9Lx6cT3tstpBiLsCq2n-2yKSQWlFnPWyF_aiRyAjji2VoxWKHaM_uRsA_DPslH857B9F5SB7LIIYdwtCXzg/s320/IMG_0050.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I guess the problem of transporting it out to the <i>Sue </i>will be a bridge we cross when we come to it. Keith thinks the only way is to tow it out, although he admits it will do some harm to the outer hull by doing so. He is hoping that if we get it out of the water right away, it will minimize the damage. I think we should ask around and see if anyone has a large dinghy that could hold the hull and we can tow it up out of the water. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'll just have to wait and see what Keith decides, I guess. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Forgive me for not having photos of the fiberglass session. I forgot to bring my camera.</b></span><br />
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<br />Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-89998904894237694052016-03-11T15:59:00.003-05:002016-03-11T16:15:10.079-05:00Beginning the New Dinghy<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Last weekend, we started building the new dinghy sailboat. </b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBA8kmE960s7MqJP76-Toiu7xYSD5nBWYyw-Hmvvzbs8bK_oe_uYiFZ-MriJjTOK0D7SfgmlbTEersphWKhv2fO8uIJFJmmVxwY0MZE1Z5h2qXVfYlb2RV2lZuKcNkckG3DT5l266Xgfg/s1600/IMG_6625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBA8kmE960s7MqJP76-Toiu7xYSD5nBWYyw-Hmvvzbs8bK_oe_uYiFZ-MriJjTOK0D7SfgmlbTEersphWKhv2fO8uIJFJmmVxwY0MZE1Z5h2qXVfYlb2RV2lZuKcNkckG3DT5l266Xgfg/s200/IMG_6625.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Start of the Base Frame</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGasYWGo_GQw3BZhBsd-Oxd_S8_q_M3I35yfEJnaIDzEvnKeaeBVSmuGjt7NcXRne-qOxfNyYLI2P0N-OL64aBzf5MRovQVk3UqHPRVvrzs5YC7v-9aJcjZo_9sv2p2WH6vGHW8UuXVDo/s1600/IMG_6626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGasYWGo_GQw3BZhBsd-Oxd_S8_q_M3I35yfEJnaIDzEvnKeaeBVSmuGjt7NcXRne-qOxfNyYLI2P0N-OL64aBzf5MRovQVk3UqHPRVvrzs5YC7v-9aJcjZo_9sv2p2WH6vGHW8UuXVDo/s320/IMG_6626.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another view of the base frame. It's formal name <br />is the Set Up Frame.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Actually, our first major decisions had to do with what days to work on it, and when I would be up there to help. Keith and I - we're vastly different on time schedules. Because of his work history through the years, he is a morning person. Me? Well, it goes all the way back to Middle School when I was babysitting for my brother and sister-in-law who worked the night shift at the hospital. I am a night person. </b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkoF1wCrNAaxgyijxInGJqktfgQ6_7QoW-w9KSuXCsnJ7vvjpZDq9GYgPjSuWfzt9IyU9iBF3H4CGl1azVgjXX_RKzMSxKlAFsT0t9fRH_96jkEOyqxNcgelvUd-cAdjj9w6akeYv3UU/s1600/IMG_6629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPkoF1wCrNAaxgyijxInGJqktfgQ6_7QoW-w9KSuXCsnJ7vvjpZDq9GYgPjSuWfzt9IyU9iBF3H4CGl1azVgjXX_RKzMSxKlAFsT0t9fRH_96jkEOyqxNcgelvUd-cAdjj9w6akeYv3UU/s320/IMG_6629.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many Cut Out Forms</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Our final agreement was to work on the dinghy on the weekends with Keith heading up to work on it from early morning to about noon. He would come out to the <i>Sue </i>around noon and pick me up, where we would work on it together.</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqZaMKVwhqDfxvYw9BRqb0WTCt18WJqXoWRqegKCWn7uY0p2tn_NBWKDKrkSqrtb_1-FeEjgs42287VKDE2LvaPAXlPhzlIR-sVjvV75MbZGJgudt2nIRCx3cblHZHjAzFVM_KUwbj48/s1600/IMG_6634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGqZaMKVwhqDfxvYw9BRqb0WTCt18WJqXoWRqegKCWn7uY0p2tn_NBWKDKrkSqrtb_1-FeEjgs42287VKDE2LvaPAXlPhzlIR-sVjvV75MbZGJgudt2nIRCx3cblHZHjAzFVM_KUwbj48/s320/IMG_6634.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keith placing the Cut Out forms on the Base Frame</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So, last Saturday and Sunday began the new sail dinghy - aptly named <i>Runaround Sue.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>When I arrived Saturday afternoon, Keith had the base frame done and set up. The base frame will hold the cut-out forms for the dinghy frame.</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JW7_N4I9OfEKDo-j-s7MlN2M0HidxLkbPZzh4KDaDBjUYcl0TbcBXKtcCsXUTORlsKyCLwdx3iO6SyS7g1SPvcpCTpxj8Ak5pZEM6VETCbwDApoDCZQj5YixlaXAXGChpHMeLEjUrFk/s1600/IMG_6635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9JW7_N4I9OfEKDo-j-s7MlN2M0HidxLkbPZzh4KDaDBjUYcl0TbcBXKtcCsXUTORlsKyCLwdx3iO6SyS7g1SPvcpCTpxj8Ak5pZEM6VETCbwDApoDCZQj5YixlaXAXGChpHMeLEjUrFk/s320/IMG_6635.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keith setting the Stem.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>We spent the afternoon, along with Sunday, finishing up the tracing of the patterns, cutting the forms for the dinghy frame, and placing them on the base frame for accuracy in measurement. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Throughout this past week, Keith would take a little time out of his sail work to go over and sand out some of the rougher pattern forms and keeping the measurements intact.</b></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBy9QVIAo6hOiflUkgQCUrmp-OKXGCYdHwfCxRcsWf5YwJ805och6Ahu5IF8w9PjrD7gyGHAsmO0G8WMudUCN1m7NJvcz5eY5L_jurL2dA32BJPrjECyZtE9Pw5PIa5gD-afXY7hELxw8/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBy9QVIAo6hOiflUkgQCUrmp-OKXGCYdHwfCxRcsWf5YwJ805och6Ahu5IF8w9PjrD7gyGHAsmO0G8WMudUCN1m7NJvcz5eY5L_jurL2dA32BJPrjECyZtE9Pw5PIa5gD-afXY7hELxw8/s320/008.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Accomplishments by the end of Sunday</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So, tomorrow continues the work on the dinghy. We have a tentative plan for possibly an hour or two of work on Sunday after the Seafood Festival.</b></span><br />
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<br />Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-32371267263050184452015-11-17T17:13:00.001-05:002015-11-17T17:13:23.803-05:00The Plans Have Arrived<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6mW1MmOFwLWKrDDR_AjXqZNjbFEbSui2QmFZG_2L27BSheQAk-Jd-I6M6KQl6JJUkLhdePUUT86zV6N2hetQDH36bGFVpEdaltI4ojocA1pXPivpJD3nIZeoeUYVqW6jVETy-rhvlA4M/s1600/IMG_6459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6mW1MmOFwLWKrDDR_AjXqZNjbFEbSui2QmFZG_2L27BSheQAk-Jd-I6M6KQl6JJUkLhdePUUT86zV6N2hetQDH36bGFVpEdaltI4ojocA1pXPivpJD3nIZeoeUYVqW6jVETy-rhvlA4M/s320/IMG_6459.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The boat plans arrived in the mail on Saturday. Keith spent all evening going through them quite thoroughly. I will do the same after Thanksgiving, and after decorating for Christmas. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>We have been discussing the little "personal" changes we will make to the boat when we build it.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'll discuss those as the changes commence.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>In the meantime, we have been kicking around name ideas. We've always called the inflatable "Sunset Sue", but since this new boat is going to look almost identical to the <i>Sue</i>, we are considering a new name.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Names in the hat for consideration are - Little Sue, Moon Sue 2, Sue Two, MS2, or just keep Sunset Sue. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Any suggestions?</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-pt7cm7oOPeULGCRQJCzQbnF0R1xD91yXrn1CFnbJEHyZJ2msXfRfK-sEoU9hQs9sCCR724HG8wAiRkVpHMgpzREdxmqN7eLMa80hkwTjAxwULxW0UWo105WNwVHioRNOi7z7ZLVGVk/s1600/IMG_6462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-pt7cm7oOPeULGCRQJCzQbnF0R1xD91yXrn1CFnbJEHyZJ2msXfRfK-sEoU9hQs9sCCR724HG8wAiRkVpHMgpzREdxmqN7eLMa80hkwTjAxwULxW0UWo105WNwVHioRNOi7z7ZLVGVk/s320/IMG_6462.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<b>So, this is what happens when we leave Face out of our plans.</b><br />
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<b>He won. He will be getting his own little space set aside in the new dinghy.</b></div>
Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-69578620824036822192015-11-08T08:33:00.001-05:002015-11-08T08:33:44.906-05:00The Waiting won't be the Hardest Part<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So, here we sit - waiting. Keith can't take care of the cataract in his eyes until he gets Part B on his Medicare. He can apply for it in January, but it won't kick in until July.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>What to do?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Well, it won't be boring. We have had a bit of a problem with leaks in our inflatable dinghy. Not one, but a few burst out here and there. Keith is now calling it our "deflatable" dinghy. It's beginning to look like a floating patchwork quilt.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So, we have decided - with all this spare time until July- to build our own 1 off fiberglass "non-leaky" dinghy. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>It will be an 11' mini Moonlight Sue with a genoa, mainsail, centerboard, Hunter-style reverse transom, and outboard engine. I ordered the plans and patterns from Glen-L yesterday. We will begin construction after the first of the year, and we will be building it together. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'm stoked. I've never built a boat before, but Keith has - a 14' footer.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I will be documenting every step in this endeavor, so stay tuned. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Hope it floats.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://www.glen-l.com/designs/sailboat/feather.html">http://www.glen-l.com/designs/sailboat/feather.html</a></b></span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-64058540406913871082015-10-14T12:19:00.000-04:002015-10-14T12:19:25.935-04:00The Work Never Ends<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I came across more photo's from the early days on the changes made to the <i>Sue.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>As I was going through the pics, I couldn't help but think back to that time. Constant work, constant change. I remember thinking, "I can't wait for all this work to be done so things will get back to normal". It took a few years during these constant changes to realize that the work <i>never </i>stops when you own a boat.</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFqAkOLP_mxZOTFk9wuQUdVUDZHvrTyxkdugxsRpSgqt-0Vz-oQLDWydHS_6Ryex-yA6VE-KGSiVPNhsQSB43-7XHbs8NrP92t962Tgs-ec7MyHcUJ5Qp_0mfyyh9c3wAaUGX-hGkMX8/s1600/14306743913_e363281ab1_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFqAkOLP_mxZOTFk9wuQUdVUDZHvrTyxkdugxsRpSgqt-0Vz-oQLDWydHS_6Ryex-yA6VE-KGSiVPNhsQSB43-7XHbs8NrP92t962Tgs-ec7MyHcUJ5Qp_0mfyyh9c3wAaUGX-hGkMX8/s320/14306743913_e363281ab1_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Now, as I hope you'll remember from previous posts, the first thing Keith did was change out all the standing and running rigging. </b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4eI6aUiOBvbOeAB3rl35qUGnlzjGUcvHWRCe5o-MJhfTbsP7Zz3F_0Z9oY1pUajcxOg61QzYdGziB2QQEIrChUu2vI1A4KKGIPnmqvSXzv6HzehqR8AWKNQB1sSwDtc6BP7o6ioBO8M/s1600/15431558677_c25b45d3de_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4eI6aUiOBvbOeAB3rl35qUGnlzjGUcvHWRCe5o-MJhfTbsP7Zz3F_0Z9oY1pUajcxOg61QzYdGziB2QQEIrChUu2vI1A4KKGIPnmqvSXzv6HzehqR8AWKNQB1sSwDtc6BP7o6ioBO8M/s320/15431558677_c25b45d3de_o.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>The second thing he did was haul her out and paint her. And, boy, what a paint job! His son came down for a visit and they applied the graphics before she was splashed. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>By the way, after that first haul out, the <i>Sue </i>would haul three more times before the year was out.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>The next thing (if memory serves me correctly) was our absolute dislike of the Nav Station. Keith hated the control board. I hated the design....and the chair. So, even though the chair went bye-bye much later, Keith changed everything else.</b></span><br />
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<b>Original </b><br />
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<b>Oh....all that has got to go!</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOfkO3eRggbHvRrqLW1FyyDdJdilin5P9OvtXB7vP1YOynam4Xbq47WghJj-jTETrPy5XVc43Iee5a43U5I1N3YAt9pgd5zwesQ8d4T_8RMaz2QGofKwsN1aKfEhxs-VqjkwGetSV9v8/s1600/14286753455_8fdafb6c2a_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOfkO3eRggbHvRrqLW1FyyDdJdilin5P9OvtXB7vP1YOynam4Xbq47WghJj-jTETrPy5XVc43Iee5a43U5I1N3YAt9pgd5zwesQ8d4T_8RMaz2QGofKwsN1aKfEhxs-VqjkwGetSV9v8/s320/14286753455_8fdafb6c2a_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Better!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHvfTtLq0-mcP81b1e5taP8wrsTnmf0RcS0rFGcVljVYiT1_gWRZYIDCxDy3AiBNtNU3PDI70-wfwSDR1dWC7pUJuAMfOXdmnypCEMY4T0LcpNT0KNeG4tf6IXn7TTeOcx2MgpjUWJ9M/s1600/14289924202_715546e93d_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHvfTtLq0-mcP81b1e5taP8wrsTnmf0RcS0rFGcVljVYiT1_gWRZYIDCxDy3AiBNtNU3PDI70-wfwSDR1dWC7pUJuAMfOXdmnypCEMY4T0LcpNT0KNeG4tf6IXn7TTeOcx2MgpjUWJ9M/s320/14289924202_715546e93d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRTSTIj8FNIsrsPp7ZuAArCxrJgbzE3kf0G-9yyxdOKlBAjLHYNuHuJmL4wj4Yr-CBIf6moJZUBqHWscbqRyNrEEiF-GQZQqELl7_fkPmunMLp_iIC9ZN_Q4iX5Y73F2LiLNMVnUj2c94/s1600/14291384634_f746fb536f_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRTSTIj8FNIsrsPp7ZuAArCxrJgbzE3kf0G-9yyxdOKlBAjLHYNuHuJmL4wj4Yr-CBIf6moJZUBqHWscbqRyNrEEiF-GQZQqELl7_fkPmunMLp_iIC9ZN_Q4iX5Y73F2LiLNMVnUj2c94/s320/14291384634_f746fb536f_o.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmuSrN2gK7X0qeeC9ZFVNoffUHAMEQBsABCiTXE5OZSsziQnyRBRwmbYVnU9We67YEMKZArDezfdc2oAkmsdQU-1E9I8ZBf3DYL0S4nbskvNRWMql0Pw3CI3-GayBdYnaOLFWrIh4x8R8/s1600/14291379734_8d85831a0d_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmuSrN2gK7X0qeeC9ZFVNoffUHAMEQBsABCiTXE5OZSsziQnyRBRwmbYVnU9We67YEMKZArDezfdc2oAkmsdQU-1E9I8ZBf3DYL0S4nbskvNRWMql0Pw3CI3-GayBdYnaOLFWrIh4x8R8/s320/14291379734_8d85831a0d_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Much Better!</b><br />
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<b>New radio, New VHF, New Design....this will work.</b>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-65027483326399108102015-10-13T14:08:00.001-04:002015-10-14T12:26:27.856-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I'll be posting various photo's of work done on the <i>Sue </i>over the years, as I come across them. Maybe, one day, I can get Keith back online to blog about a few of them.</b></span></div>
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Shortly after acquiring the boat, Keith hauled it out and changed the look.</div>
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This is what the hull originally looked like before the change.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSkCW68fpRZvyNSFHtrVroaZvUFbCacgt-xb68EcxhqyLYqoiXSBhbAFsND3nTik7xL851CZED-abrgBjt8SUUwbNFR7GMWrhinGcFVg8A8iehMExYyAi4wTjsiMm9InTn72uoczsMRU/s1600/Dads_graphic_rev2_backup_copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkSkCW68fpRZvyNSFHtrVroaZvUFbCacgt-xb68EcxhqyLYqoiXSBhbAFsND3nTik7xL851CZED-abrgBjt8SUUwbNFR7GMWrhinGcFVg8A8iehMExYyAi4wTjsiMm9InTn72uoczsMRU/s320/Dads_graphic_rev2_backup_copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTlp-kmQw8rQwHHBB7MGxHAUUV_Ba4aOsH3ke2apK12ZhE8Gap6-Dp45JerUt58r8OqsuEZwGBtXygFS5j8SMxr4m9WbwYtLVHOeRwjFKIrD-Hzndc5sOyWejKd2-YSoMtxfgFG1pCpQ/s1600/Dads+Graphic+Part2_Page_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguTlp-kmQw8rQwHHBB7MGxHAUUV_Ba4aOsH3ke2apK12ZhE8Gap6-Dp45JerUt58r8OqsuEZwGBtXygFS5j8SMxr4m9WbwYtLVHOeRwjFKIrD-Hzndc5sOyWejKd2-YSoMtxfgFG1pCpQ/s320/Dads+Graphic+Part2_Page_3.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The graphics for the port and starboard bow and the graphics<br />
for the stern.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9hWkDWymUn0ZAPeBeB_1w7Jcayh6tLgfu5Fqiems317VwM7Gg1Ob-5YhcL6MErAalnxtMqeUuN52EopGJGYKHX7exRFjn2eL6SXO3Z0gSx2YMNMtBgtvMRWTZt0Dh2oU2l7JnTU4s_aY/s1600/08142011+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9hWkDWymUn0ZAPeBeB_1w7Jcayh6tLgfu5Fqiems317VwM7Gg1Ob-5YhcL6MErAalnxtMqeUuN52EopGJGYKHX7exRFjn2eL6SXO3Z0gSx2YMNMtBgtvMRWTZt0Dh2oU2l7JnTU4s_aY/s320/08142011+008.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
The sailmaker. He'll use any space he can find to get the job done. In these pics, he's making a new genoa for the <i>Sue </i>after the other was shredded up when the boat grounded on Mustang Island.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2q6utbcqoh7sIGICPofBryMr7cX0jkVK_RToOhrVHBJxcKoekMxevXb_UqtbcLWxOrHCgZBKmucMb1sQ00zpWpe3KFFa9MGjozNTg-5JKN2hGAGbNR_lQp8toLt3-uFf8HFor_5qALWk/s1600/08142011+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2q6utbcqoh7sIGICPofBryMr7cX0jkVK_RToOhrVHBJxcKoekMxevXb_UqtbcLWxOrHCgZBKmucMb1sQ00zpWpe3KFFa9MGjozNTg-5JKN2hGAGbNR_lQp8toLt3-uFf8HFor_5qALWk/s320/08142011+010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRDRrxT9K3DnqIZ7op-GybEHMoiuUS5oDRh5y4bGX6NRCxoSAlYlu7YZEvNr0iw1cJ67xspl4EAj7Z1mIk1iihUKf-Hxt-tKDNQEBdeuF_roCYSp1NgO_1dbsEQsBftb52m9KMQyG3fQ/s1600/08142011+011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRDRrxT9K3DnqIZ7op-GybEHMoiuUS5oDRh5y4bGX6NRCxoSAlYlu7YZEvNr0iw1cJ67xspl4EAj7Z1mIk1iihUKf-Hxt-tKDNQEBdeuF_roCYSp1NgO_1dbsEQsBftb52m9KMQyG3fQ/s320/08142011+011.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6mU0TgsgMKC7MH0OdAG5NB-SAKWhmruecvgsSBsemQ3t_U-iLWzcjACH9TNkA5jrHxrnQ2GiloSgAV7etO57jyBc6I1w_7h-fZ2TusGuLPy1GfaYTa9IejJW0Lu5eBQTw71ANIVl01A/s1600/08142011+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6mU0TgsgMKC7MH0OdAG5NB-SAKWhmruecvgsSBsemQ3t_U-iLWzcjACH9TNkA5jrHxrnQ2GiloSgAV7etO57jyBc6I1w_7h-fZ2TusGuLPy1GfaYTa9IejJW0Lu5eBQTw71ANIVl01A/s320/08142011+012.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Evolution of the galley shelves. I'm sure I have a pic of the finished project somewhere. I'll add it when I find it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDegodiepYmilhIDCcPsqqsGLkR9LCTehJX2c0aj1eaiWauGAl-5BwPJJNAXzlNwsebzVAbDdmf1INtXC_qjSHMZaOxHT0J0RPdcX6VTRSkQ5-sOJAhGj-wwgnPBP-HoXQA9Wgizja44g/s1600/08142011+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDegodiepYmilhIDCcPsqqsGLkR9LCTehJX2c0aj1eaiWauGAl-5BwPJJNAXzlNwsebzVAbDdmf1INtXC_qjSHMZaOxHT0J0RPdcX6VTRSkQ5-sOJAhGj-wwgnPBP-HoXQA9Wgizja44g/s320/08142011+017.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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Organizing the lines.<br />
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The propane locker he made for the stern rail.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi77QQiLTaopCJL4QkOdWkkQ1M51WmTWbAlKivW1FicoLB08UlYSGhcG3RK7Wiglm9lPRA2v9RO2JJapbJIcQd84GvboTJhdra1CO35XcKezpMhRRYwy3AG8clmcRpe6s3fxrIglFUE9_4/s1600/08142011+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi77QQiLTaopCJL4QkOdWkkQ1M51WmTWbAlKivW1FicoLB08UlYSGhcG3RK7Wiglm9lPRA2v9RO2JJapbJIcQd84GvboTJhdra1CO35XcKezpMhRRYwy3AG8clmcRpe6s3fxrIglFUE9_4/s320/08142011+024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJijwAA2VcawzUpp_RNYsZ9fW2pz7GPGFy2sEnxoPUDyo-NUNpLrT8_KT4S_QQ_1NGSD5O-SaI4DrRsEMR1e-pRJRoA8OoRYa_iKp8HTybA9zicwkxfw2WCoEvBLk0mhZrGraVls99v6s/s1600/073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJijwAA2VcawzUpp_RNYsZ9fW2pz7GPGFy2sEnxoPUDyo-NUNpLrT8_KT4S_QQ_1NGSD5O-SaI4DrRsEMR1e-pRJRoA8OoRYa_iKp8HTybA9zicwkxfw2WCoEvBLk0mhZrGraVls99v6s/s320/073.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
The cushions he made for the cabin.Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-26744224424850367912015-06-11T13:19:00.002-04:002015-06-11T13:19:33.449-04:00The Battle of the Box<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Having a cat on board really doesn't take too much extra care and attention. Face gets fed and watered every day, and with the weekly sweep and vacuum of the cat hair (especially when he sheds his winter coat), there's not too much left to do to make him happy. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Oh, there are two other things. One - he likes to have conversations with either Keith or myself. He will sit next to us and meow. Of course, we answer back with our Cat Language 101 lessons we've mastered. Face will answer back, then we answer, and so on and so forth.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Then, comes the battle of the box - the litter box, that is. It gets cleaned every 4-5 days, give or take. When I clean it, I always start with a cold beer and a few cigs. I know that from the time I start to clean that box, until the time I finish, it's going to be 5 o'clock somewhere.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Once the beer and smokes are set up, I get the "quiet stuff" - broom, dust pan, trash bag. I get these things together first because I know that the minute I move the fresh litter container out from under the v-berth, no matter where Face is napping on the boat, he's going to be right there to supervise this particular chore. And he starts by tripping me as I lug the container back to the nav station where we have his litter box.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Getting the litter box from under the Nav bench and cleaning it out is easy enough. I just avoid looking at Face as he sits as close as he can and stares at me in his attempt to intimidate a well done job. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Once the litter box is clean and any spills swept up, the chore becomes a sport. I switch into my "goalie" mode to protect the box from Face hopping in to either examine or use it. It becomes a contest of wills as Face circles around me looking for a chance to pounce. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>There have actually been times that I have held the box high with one hand and wagged my finger at him with the other hand, lecturing him on allowing me to finish the job.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I finally manage to find a stance that protects the box to fill it with fresh litter, and keep Face at bay, only to keep looking over at the area where we keep the box as I scoop the fresh litter. Why? Because that darn cat is over there, circling and sniffing around as if he's going to use his box whether the box is there or not. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>So, I spend the next few minutes guarding the box, furiously scooping fresh litter, and looking over my shoulder at a cat who seems to relish such a game.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>I finally get the box filled, shoo him away from the Nav Station, get the box all set up and done. And it never fails - he sniffs around and over the box, then goes back to his favorite place to continue his afternoon nap.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">It's five o'clock somewhere!</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_Cn79XQ1GA63qfMVznfphN8xeaRWh3guLRMfBM1BPdUyzSd7rkN9hVP2L81Eb7Bb8SceIydq0o9_QLsdPvxwDAKNcGtgtHMo81KtGQSzYRjMY8ewsnCYzDJel0XmlgeTpqNwRhqIIv8/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_Cn79XQ1GA63qfMVznfphN8xeaRWh3guLRMfBM1BPdUyzSd7rkN9hVP2L81Eb7Bb8SceIydq0o9_QLsdPvxwDAKNcGtgtHMo81KtGQSzYRjMY8ewsnCYzDJel0XmlgeTpqNwRhqIIv8/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>He's really not as innocent as he looks</b></span></div>
Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-2434592642885022132015-05-30T02:01:00.002-04:002015-05-30T02:01:29.591-04:00Second Time Around<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Well, my grand idea of Keith and I writing a blog together has pretty much bit the dust. All attempts at dragging him to the computer to write his share of the blog failed miserably. So, I guess, now I will be doing this blog all by my lonesome (this is a good time to head out if you only read this for Keith's posts).</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiRufuiNzW1ZLCYdSSQCS7rVnaXMMQ5kP9RQohxtw2qExFIzc7Hc7RlOiIt_t7OZeC-ZSMOZzrG51Baawg3rC0Bz19TuTuCIrvuGDqQ31XVl-t_r3UoH55Df8_yNL6PS4i-ZcxGslqxE/s1600/055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFiRufuiNzW1ZLCYdSSQCS7rVnaXMMQ5kP9RQohxtw2qExFIzc7Hc7RlOiIt_t7OZeC-ZSMOZzrG51Baawg3rC0Bz19TuTuCIrvuGDqQ31XVl-t_r3UoH55Df8_yNL6PS4i-ZcxGslqxE/s320/055.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We have now been in the Keys for eighteen long months. It's not a really bad place to be for so long, but I am getting real ansy to get out and continue this trip. Really.....honest.....truly.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So, I came upon a bit of good fortune, and convinced Keith that we were ready. So, with fingers crossed, it looks like we will be leaving soon. Can you see this first mate doing the happy dance?</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglY-ysUCbzS01KnVyC3U-DMC-k6ql6_SRo8zDVVx2_YOP_G9FxEI_Tap2Ml_G11LoQVNjXIpLudXWo6op3qq9JJr7tSioeCLhx3ScJs_Sk3eSzOGuHc50O3fTZzr8svNUEni0fhlaavT0/s1600/046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglY-ysUCbzS01KnVyC3U-DMC-k6ql6_SRo8zDVVx2_YOP_G9FxEI_Tap2Ml_G11LoQVNjXIpLudXWo6op3qq9JJr7tSioeCLhx3ScJs_Sk3eSzOGuHc50O3fTZzr8svNUEni0fhlaavT0/s320/046.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I have already begun trying to get the cabin in order before we start again. How we managed to accumulate so much junk is beyond me. We didn't leave Texas with this much junk. I cleared out a ton of that crud from the port side in the salon - piles of stuff that would get tossed on the settee for lack of a better place to put it. I also convinced Keith to junk the old dorm-size refrigerator he bought a few years back. It had stopped working, so we used it to store extra stuff for the galley. I junked or re-distributed the galley stuff and got Keith to take the frig ashore and trash it. It is amazing how much roomier the salon looks now. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I also got Keith to dump all of the old charts that he bought from a friend a couple years ago. Some of them were 20 or more years old! We had stored them behind the port settee, but now they are gone, and I have all of that wonderful space to use for something more worthwhile.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I also cleared the shelf above the port settee, taking all the books, cruising guides, etc. down, cleaned, and re positioned the tv and dvd player so that I could put all of the dvd/cd's on the shelf, too. These are in plastic shoe boxes, and were previously stacked on the floor. It's not perfect, but it does look better.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZFpC-Jl56NeZVgw8g0fo9gjNc-1VglhvrK5UsZBZN4QH4229r7eKZ6dvQxgY22mfdzWjPtfhBQK3vJ6NCMJH67YxH4jzdtvV2gp4WguBSvyx0RxVEkLA4MPfSbJGj0LUOPHT7FCO4kw/s1600/045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZFpC-Jl56NeZVgw8g0fo9gjNc-1VglhvrK5UsZBZN4QH4229r7eKZ6dvQxgY22mfdzWjPtfhBQK3vJ6NCMJH67YxH4jzdtvV2gp4WguBSvyx0RxVEkLA4MPfSbJGj0LUOPHT7FCO4kw/s320/045.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I know I probably won't be done with all of this before we leave, so I'll just have to keep it going as we keep going until it's all done. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>So, I hope soon that I will have new stuff to write about, and new pics to post of different places, peoples and events. Soon....I hope.....soon. </b></span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-58426737540567846232015-03-14T01:13:00.001-04:002020-03-09T14:44:44.537-04:00Peaches 1999 - 2015<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Peaches Portman came into our lives in early December of 1999. We believe she was about nine months to a year old at the time.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDK-t9fABFWz0paGkYMHNXoZqz6FvFWRvgL34AkwW-_hyphenhyphenUvB2EiCfjcqRHsacOVO5QoYmgs17_Gi7p4_jM6GEvQE0wgXl4Np0iWpf8BxacYD_J4nvZ3hyphenhyphenou7MmR9jAEoOlpP70l2-_d1M/s1600/038+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDK-t9fABFWz0paGkYMHNXoZqz6FvFWRvgL34AkwW-_hyphenhyphenUvB2EiCfjcqRHsacOVO5QoYmgs17_Gi7p4_jM6GEvQE0wgXl4Np0iWpf8BxacYD_J4nvZ3hyphenhyphenou7MmR9jAEoOlpP70l2-_d1M/s1600/038+(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Keith's mother, Susie, always had a dream of breeding poodles. An acquaintance of ours had a poodle that he wanted to find a home for, so on a cold night, I drove Susie over to his trailer to pick up this dog.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>When the man came out with Peaches (the name was given to her prior to her joining our family), she was small, frightened and shaking. Susie took her and immediately nestled this scared little dog in the inside of her coat. When we got her home, we were able to examine the shape she was in - and it broke our hearts. Her nails were long and her hair was horribly matted in knots. She had huge brown eyes that showed genuine fear. We knew immediately that this was not a dog who had been treated well.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>We made the appointment and took her to the groomers. Actually, it took about three appointments to get her cleaned up, groomed properly with her hair and nails looking good. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>She took to Susie right away. Even during the process of grooming all the extreme knots from her fur, Susie kept her close by - petting her, talking to her, and giving her the attention that I believe Peaches had never before experienced from any human. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>But with men, Peaches did not like them. If they were in the same room, she steered far away from them. If they came too close, she growled. I seem to recall that it took Keith about 3 weeks for Peaches to trust him - but she still wanted nothing to do with any other male human.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Through time, we discovered some of her history before she arrived in our household. Peaches was born in a puppy mill, cages stacked 4 and 5 high where waste and dropped food and spilled water rained down on the cages below the top ones. She was given to our "former" acquaintance who treated her so badly that when he came to visit our home shortly after giving her to us, Peaches stood between him and Susie and bared her teeth and growled like we've never seen her do in the time that we had her. We suspected that this was the reason she disliked men.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nVsGJ8PgMUS2H0zwS7FPweE5hhclLZxwCSF4gpa95U0Ch81RUg0DbY9QjvgvEUByxmjxVuU_wQQB97vTGId7N8GDSZwfSrwFW_9r_sUGlCMaQBshG5WzIkR6a5UUwNjv30jBSrjnNFI/s1600/14327039933_0e48301f81_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7nVsGJ8PgMUS2H0zwS7FPweE5hhclLZxwCSF4gpa95U0Ch81RUg0DbY9QjvgvEUByxmjxVuU_wQQB97vTGId7N8GDSZwfSrwFW_9r_sUGlCMaQBshG5WzIkR6a5UUwNjv30jBSrjnNFI/s320/14327039933_0e48301f81_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>We lived in the mountains of Northern California at the time, with plenty of space for Peaches to run and explore in her newly found happy home. She also had the run of the house, but while inside, she stayed close to Susie's side. Sometimes, just a little too close.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Susie had a penchant for chocolate covered cherries. One day, she had an opened box in her room. Her bedside table had no room to set the box on, so Susie set them on the floor next to her bed. We walked in to find Peaches plowing down, as fast as she could, a box of chocolate covered cherries. Oh, was she going to town on them! We snatched them up, but not before she had eaten enough to make her sick to her stomach.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>When Peaches came to live with us, Keith was a few months into driving professionally, on a regional route of the Western States. We found ourselves having to move from the house. Keith had made a run through Las Vegas, Nevada and thought the warm climate and multitude of activities the city had to offer would be good for us. But until we could get settled, Susie flew to Texas to stay, temporarily, with her niece; and Peaches and I became ride-alongs in the truck with Keith. It was also during this time that the company Keith worked for sold out to another trucking company. This had Keith driving further than the Western States. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>At first, Peaches didn't mind riding in the truck. We would stop at rest areas in varying States and Keith would give Peachy time to run and play. Their favorite game was for Keith to make sudden, surprise moves toward Peachy and she would run in various directions all around him, circling here and there. Then she would stop and freeze, not making a move until he did it again, and she would run around again. She absolutely loved that game!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>There were a few humorous moments, also, on our travels through the various States. In Washington, in the snow, she left a "steamer" - and I do mean a steamer. It really did steam. In California, she left a "missile", standing straight up! Keith and I laughed over her creative ways of relieving herself.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>We finally did manage to get an apartment in Las Vegas; and Susie, Peaches and I settled in while Keith went back to driving by his lonesome. But we weren't there very long before Susie's health declined and her daughter moved her into a care home in California. Peaches and I were back in the truck again.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Eventually, I obtained my Commercial Driver's License, and Keith and I drove team coast to coast. Peaches was right there with us, visiting every State in the U.S (except Hawaii and Alaska, of course). She loved being with us, and guarded the truck diligently. Not one soul could get with ten feet of that truck where she did not hear them and start barking. We always knew when someone was out around the truck.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>But, after a time, Peachy grew weary of being in that truck. We discovered this one day when she began to "put on the brakes" when getting back into the truck. What I mean by that is, we'd walk her right up to the door of the truck and she'd stiffen up her front legs and back her body up and resist getting back in the rig. She began to hate riding in that truck.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>While visiting my parents, who lived in the same area we had lived in the mountains of California, my Dad took a liking to Peaches. He had just lost his Keeshond, and he asked us if we would consider letting Peaches stay with him. We made an agreement that he would act as owner to Peaches, take care of her teeth (which were in the early stages of going bad), but if there came a time that something happened where he could no longer take care of her, or did not want her, she was to come back to us. So, Peaches found a new home with Mom and Dad.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCgvzR0hhF6WfLcAs2sNxjHwI02RKBE594cZVEMCjU1UvCMfeXqH0aIfpBNOLCvQfEdwU5NJweU09imc2xxpQMlqREdsLmIB5dBUVcFLLylUI8vAYiwxe24zuooK8AUh4PcgA6vMoEoQM/s1600/15312959218_8b2252c579_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCgvzR0hhF6WfLcAs2sNxjHwI02RKBE594cZVEMCjU1UvCMfeXqH0aIfpBNOLCvQfEdwU5NJweU09imc2xxpQMlqREdsLmIB5dBUVcFLLylUI8vAYiwxe24zuooK8AUh4PcgA6vMoEoQM/s320/15312959218_8b2252c579_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Now, this was one of the amazing things about Peachy. Most dogs connect to one owner, and that is the one person they fiercely protect for the rest of their lives. Peachy had five owners (Susie, Keith and I, and Dad and Mom) - and she was protective, loving and loyal to all of us. She was with Dad until he passed in 2006, and stayed with Mom until she passed in 2009 (Susie had passed in 2003). Shortly after Mom passed, she came back to us again.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>We were still driving long haul, but now we lived on a sailboat in Texas. Peachy wasn't thrilled to be back in the truck again, but she took to the boat quite well. And it was only a year in the truck before we retired from driving and Peachy no longer had to ride in "that big noisy contraption".</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>However, after we retired from long haul, we acquired a cat combo. Brother and sister tuxedo kittens, who had been abandoned on the side of a highway in San Antonio, came to live with us - and Peachy wanted nothing to do with them. No matter what Face and Elvis (later renamed Ziva) did to try to play and make friends with Peaches, she would not have anything to do with them. As time passed, she went from warning them away to just tolerating them, but she was not all that excited to have them around.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>After a time, we left our home port in Texas, and traveled the Inter-coastal Waterway to Florida, straight down the west coast of Florida to the Keys. Peaches never got seasick, and her regular spot was in the cockpit, sleeping next to Keith or I as we traveled. By this time, Peaches was about 14 years old, and she did not have the energy she had once had. She had been diagnosed with arthritis in her back legs and her lower spine, and her eyesight and hearing wasn't what it once was either. She was not in pain at the time, and seemed to be content staying indoors for the most part and sleeping. Keith would take her out for exercise and potty breaks, but had to keep a close eye on her as she had a tendency to walk right off the dock. Many times we just carried her, as she had difficulty walking due to the arthritis.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwx_M1za331ePZEnks6o_amKQLb9uu9Utv4PcEQCNhowrusIJVVCMD2DShyphenhyphenm3RPwj-BCKa-tEN3ZQatYNhrKuCUWDpyfbCKsurwg1ETur_rYLnRDK7jisB5n7CBYZgE1bZKBUQMveRIiw/s1600/14120528760_a817dcaff2_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwx_M1za331ePZEnks6o_amKQLb9uu9Utv4PcEQCNhowrusIJVVCMD2DShyphenhyphenm3RPwj-BCKa-tEN3ZQatYNhrKuCUWDpyfbCKsurwg1ETur_rYLnRDK7jisB5n7CBYZgE1bZKBUQMveRIiw/s320/14120528760_a817dcaff2_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>But a more loving dog you could not find. Throughout the years, she would sit on Susie's lap.....or Dad's lap....or Mom's lap....or Keith's....or mine, and lay her head against us, looking up with the biggest brown eyes ever seen on a dog, and those eyes expressed the deepest love she had for us. She was gentle, kind, compassionate, loving, and protective. And she had the most amazing life - from puppy mill, to abuse, to a caring home in the mountains, in the city, on the water. She traveled the country and sailed the coast. She was a companion, and a comfort, to three people during their last days....and I believe she loved every minute of her life.......</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHuAOnuBAeV2hGTYJ7BupGmDZdrWr-JECcdtRXq8D5sgkUccyfdYjlmAMxy8HV774mgOI99Q34IqztClZ3ACGp8TnhVd4cYEegDs2NmAnOTQf3Bslg0yJvDwTcFSzkdgnL2P17vKwpBNQ/s1600/Carol's%2BCamera%2B03252011%2B349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHuAOnuBAeV2hGTYJ7BupGmDZdrWr-JECcdtRXq8D5sgkUccyfdYjlmAMxy8HV774mgOI99Q34IqztClZ3ACGp8TnhVd4cYEegDs2NmAnOTQf3Bslg0yJvDwTcFSzkdgnL2P17vKwpBNQ/s1600/Carol's%2BCamera%2B03252011%2B349.JPG" width="320" /></a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I sat in a room, at the vets, that created a peaceful and serene atmosphere - oriental decor, the sound of a gentle flow of trickling water, in a chair designed for comfort. Peaches had already been given her sedative to calm her into a peaceful state, and she was wrapped in a large, soft blanket. She was not feeling any pain. The doctor had told me that, along with arthritis, blindness and deafness, she had also developed diabetes. I talked to her even though I knew she couldn't hear me. I walked down memory lane with her - from the time she came to us until the time we sailed away on the water. I told her how much she meant to me...to Keith...to Susie....to Mom and Dad.....and I thanked her for all the joy and happiness she had given us. I held her close, and I kissed her forehead as she took her last breath. It was the most difficult, heartbreaking, precious thing in my life. </i></span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-65784289703109399842014-11-15T12:46:00.000-05:002015-05-30T02:06:35.662-04:00Balanced Once Again<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MAsnQKCMP1vXWgY4joybo7-vo5HNR_qr-txAl3yzKF-Z0k3bGKPsgaY33Mu53YNiCL5vK8tbFZrw7iUZyN_qlxquydSVdUK3omQxs03P-BF1NR_W69sxXQzMBVebfTvi9lWTP0UZwyQ/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4MAsnQKCMP1vXWgY4joybo7-vo5HNR_qr-txAl3yzKF-Z0k3bGKPsgaY33Mu53YNiCL5vK8tbFZrw7iUZyN_qlxquydSVdUK3omQxs03P-BF1NR_W69sxXQzMBVebfTvi9lWTP0UZwyQ/s1600/009.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>Sue</i>. 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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, we passed the crisis, and we are now back on track.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>Sue</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The previous post is the first one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">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.</span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-58802612571468616112014-11-15T12:16:00.001-05:002015-05-30T02:24:09.556-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzH2Sm7Cqyk5Ts6OQSRNXelw5iGoKkwepcUswvSL0DUJIaLAZXbUuOHqUQZVCPHouP-R25MW2fsLZRBhT1YQA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">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.</span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-38984802843137963612014-05-20T22:35:00.002-04:002015-05-30T02:27:20.851-04:00Beginning the Transformation of Moonlight Sue<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QF3matcAjME/U3wP6l3cvRI/AAAAAAAAAF0/q849DThu4Jo/s1600/611746-R1-05-4A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QF3matcAjME/U3wP6l3cvRI/AAAAAAAAAF0/q849DThu4Jo/s1600/611746-R1-05-4A.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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. </span></b><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/--s-Rvjwv-Qg/U3wP7DxB-HI/AAAAAAAAAF4/xIYDmUOgQfI/s1600/611746-R1-10-9A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--s-Rvjwv-Qg/U3wP7DxB-HI/AAAAAAAAAF4/xIYDmUOgQfI/s1600/611746-R1-10-9A.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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.</span></b><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--s-Rvjwv-Qg/U3wP7DxB-HI/AAAAAAAAAF4/xIYDmUOgQfI/s1600/611746-R1-10-9A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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? </span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b> 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.</b><b> </b></span><br />
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-itQymhjHu3s/U3wP67NbmSI/AAAAAAAAAF8/f9Zj_lI0YRU/s1600/611746-R1-11-10A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-itQymhjHu3s/U3wP67NbmSI/AAAAAAAAAF8/f9Zj_lI0YRU/s1600/611746-R1-11-10A.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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?</span></b><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-itQymhjHu3s/U3wP67NbmSI/AAAAAAAAAF8/f9Zj_lI0YRU/s1600/611746-R1-11-10A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></a><b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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?</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqL10LRisUQ/U3wQ67CRGWI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4-KEzcraAdI/s1600/583453-R1-18-7A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HqL10LRisUQ/U3wQ67CRGWI/AAAAAAAAAGY/4-KEzcraAdI/s1600/583453-R1-18-7A.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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.</span></b><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CyJUg1JEl8/U3wP9qw-bfI/AAAAAAAAAGM/-XmFMxlHI0o/s1600/611746-R1-15-11A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CyJUg1JEl8/U3wP9qw-bfI/AAAAAAAAAGM/-XmFMxlHI0o/s1600/611746-R1-15-11A.jpg" width="320" /></a><b> I was quite proud of my newly rebuilt shiny</b><br />
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<b><b> BLACK mast. But this would not be the last time this mast would come down.</b></b></div>
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<b>. </b>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-16171324302004829192014-05-20T18:28:00.002-04:002014-05-28T21:50:34.828-04:00Miscellaneous Ramblings of the Early Years<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Me: Are you going to post on the blog tonight?</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Keith: Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. I need to do that. Yeah, I'll do it.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Me: Okay </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunipbQ4QvEkIkURfBDvs3wfCEN1GeVEZhC6X3UeRjwAzugQ83KxozAznPDuVu9ssHNDrx2c7_91OyI-NchYrNYoaq7NawzTyIl1KJ6E_FldSGeVg3WoISHKNfcMCUk06q6D63NsMLupM/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunipbQ4QvEkIkURfBDvs3wfCEN1GeVEZhC6X3UeRjwAzugQ83KxozAznPDuVu9ssHNDrx2c7_91OyI-NchYrNYoaq7NawzTyIl1KJ6E_FldSGeVg3WoISHKNfcMCUk06q6D63NsMLupM/s1600/004.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></b></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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 <i>Sue </i>in the late afternoon from being on shore all day. He snacks until dinner, has dinner and falls asleep watching tv.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAEwxnU6gw05uhlAkWTN_tumT4Sipfs7U1Ky6Y-qYvJKaCDKzvKaqbuBm9zy1lLQca-izrJ-zbXeaVHCxc7mNGqQqgYStfw2EgplB_YAQIJkm3aDv_G6tUwlw3GwgfD13ZBqEfIOQHLc/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAEwxnU6gw05uhlAkWTN_tumT4Sipfs7U1Ky6Y-qYvJKaCDKzvKaqbuBm9zy1lLQca-izrJ-zbXeaVHCxc7mNGqQqgYStfw2EgplB_YAQIJkm3aDv_G6tUwlw3GwgfD13ZBqEfIOQHLc/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I also felt right at home on the boat. After about 6 years (give or take) of living in the truck, the <i>Sue </i>was a palace. <i> I could stand up straight and walk more than two steps!</i> 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 <i>Sue </i>at all during low tide. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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. </b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_d45RfiJQDtNCTljl_jc4NBMy2b_5o5au4jbMBlpp8TRtzCm6ZIkyFDEFvPNkTDcrabBDr4Nkc6R0-10DXk-sCy8Rbjibw2MxblOEL2RNjM-lL3C2K2nIh9fccnTZ3Vsx3Qr3IWvqAU/s1600/d+buying.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_d45RfiJQDtNCTljl_jc4NBMy2b_5o5au4jbMBlpp8TRtzCm6ZIkyFDEFvPNkTDcrabBDr4Nkc6R0-10DXk-sCy8Rbjibw2MxblOEL2RNjM-lL3C2K2nIh9fccnTZ3Vsx3Qr3IWvqAU/s1600/d+buying.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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. </b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZMQWddrd6kUnSr28wiaqpKFYPj-jkUoOul8KQbt_SFEoyswD0dyY01punHYv1mlB3q5fVW3-3N90r_93cdflBZtUfodCnMDgVSl73kraOVZ8hi0G0EDXXo_pajjuPAZMJWkT-7_6NTo/s1600/k.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZMQWddrd6kUnSr28wiaqpKFYPj-jkUoOul8KQbt_SFEoyswD0dyY01punHYv1mlB3q5fVW3-3N90r_93cdflBZtUfodCnMDgVSl73kraOVZ8hi0G0EDXXo_pajjuPAZMJWkT-7_6NTo/s1600/k.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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!</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKPHMW_RCrYoFGTwsUjczGJuWY3IhT_EqW3aPd8YMsRmhVabfbw7ZLTSBW0_uy7MXkBg1Uey2hjR-FR1arD70DyjPgqxQnjsXjZbbvjNJNZ62woBD_3y5NJSLFnRtlLrHOY7c6Kgz3F1o/s1600/e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKPHMW_RCrYoFGTwsUjczGJuWY3IhT_EqW3aPd8YMsRmhVabfbw7ZLTSBW0_uy7MXkBg1Uey2hjR-FR1arD70DyjPgqxQnjsXjZbbvjNJNZ62woBD_3y5NJSLFnRtlLrHOY7c6Kgz3F1o/s1600/e.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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!</b></span><br />
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<br />Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-52121912580929588612014-05-10T10:03:00.000-04:002015-05-30T02:28:40.044-04:00Moving aboard...sleeping, eating, and other things<b><span style="font-size: large;">Keith has assured me that he is ready to blog again, but I'll do this post first.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>Sue.</i> 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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixY3716MwixEW3OqsULOqf7qnzqpgGiLVJWZFst-NMeyr52kcUaoYGgkbByaIAEgk56lxcq0jqAKKK1YWrFXERBL0FugE6fuK8m_MdzGF3KyNfQbzVLK-AOTyoF3uGmjpy73jK8Jwqw3Y/s1600/058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixY3716MwixEW3OqsULOqf7qnzqpgGiLVJWZFst-NMeyr52kcUaoYGgkbByaIAEgk56lxcq0jqAKKK1YWrFXERBL0FugE6fuK8m_MdzGF3KyNfQbzVLK-AOTyoF3uGmjpy73jK8Jwqw3Y/s1600/058.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">Cooking on the <i>Sue</i>, 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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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<i> </i>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. </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBNk84sLf_qVp2CT5iSV1L8cWLCVmD19spj5pXdySG8dvIqyrIbT2XTdg2peC97lbLHWyPbaDOiCyZjdUWftJNP5h34TkUrvjRbSd3e6uRn90wHqgT8UDRvQXyAQ1lSibmFtJFqQhKY4/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoBNk84sLf_qVp2CT5iSV1L8cWLCVmD19spj5pXdySG8dvIqyrIbT2XTdg2peC97lbLHWyPbaDOiCyZjdUWftJNP5h34TkUrvjRbSd3e6uRn90wHqgT8UDRvQXyAQ1lSibmFtJFqQhKY4/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+625.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ktiuGtndSv6OWfLWwTT75811DvjTvyDLuvYbyylPB0oleVm20b-uEKgbMWCHGy9U4f5FxhmNVoUT6wxQ9GpJ7Ug7qd5vzRaBaPhNdULtGRsX5_muqsllDddA7JV7ADaHXRLSg20TMOI/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ktiuGtndSv6OWfLWwTT75811DvjTvyDLuvYbyylPB0oleVm20b-uEKgbMWCHGy9U4f5FxhmNVoUT6wxQ9GpJ7Ug7qd5vzRaBaPhNdULtGRsX5_muqsllDddA7JV7ADaHXRLSg20TMOI/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+627.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">So, anyway, back to that first Thanksgiving on board the <i>Sue.</i> 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. </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOLl7vO3i2g20A4aWONjRy450FmsCZmg07cSUSKaTU9Vcu3JlFpFRomHeHempFn0RXZu9mu3slP3kNcw5jxUR4LjBDuoztM5wv5UoX6yHlCv9sEMGkhJbxryvCN1KzPXai0ruiaxyIQw/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpOLl7vO3i2g20A4aWONjRy450FmsCZmg07cSUSKaTU9Vcu3JlFpFRomHeHempFn0RXZu9mu3slP3kNcw5jxUR4LjBDuoztM5wv5UoX6yHlCv9sEMGkhJbxryvCN1KzPXai0ruiaxyIQw/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+629.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>Sue, </i>I have done Thanksgiving (and Christmas ham dinners, too) on board every year.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">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!</span></b><br />
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<b><br /></b>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-65459018611760119052014-05-07T23:24:00.000-04:002015-05-03T20:01:29.085-04:00Boat Creatures Around the Boat<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U8D1i9EnAy0/UbTMCadwsWI/AAAAAAAAbbA/H1OLLslCzEM/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U8D1i9EnAy0/UbTMCadwsWI/AAAAAAAAbbA/H1OLLslCzEM/s1600/083.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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 <i>their home</i> and you are just visiting them.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgbjLoYMFYDjY6d5Qc0KIA-dsMR4ZTguqU9Nt-nqmT2i1b9jg2SIN3pZomm_T6g9gnpgZQnE9WT1B8aZ3Z8oLLartxcJgvQkca1A0dfFkO1BWrJbC6Fi6PMdPP8ojfkivsKPlc-0J-SQ/s1600/Carol%2527s+Camera+03252011+083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgbjLoYMFYDjY6d5Qc0KIA-dsMR4ZTguqU9Nt-nqmT2i1b9jg2SIN3pZomm_T6g9gnpgZQnE9WT1B8aZ3Z8oLLartxcJgvQkca1A0dfFkO1BWrJbC6Fi6PMdPP8ojfkivsKPlc-0J-SQ/s1600/Carol%2527s+Camera+03252011+083.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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 <i>Sue</i>" - 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>.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>When we first bought the <i>Sue</i> 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. </b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2R2i4MUBK_bcQVzLCYLkvAshdA-aozETQls68_GR8nFNpgGZyF_CXHMhwNvWaeBPN7LAtdiMZck1k837p9uYBaP-NH2YCP3dTy3K0eDnD-uQ-CmlD_7O8L0yJZzErSb5G8gXBv7wpnw/s1600/006+%25285%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc2R2i4MUBK_bcQVzLCYLkvAshdA-aozETQls68_GR8nFNpgGZyF_CXHMhwNvWaeBPN7LAtdiMZck1k837p9uYBaP-NH2YCP3dTy3K0eDnD-uQ-CmlD_7O8L0yJZzErSb5G8gXBv7wpnw/s1600/006+%25285%2529.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-36073824021208283412014-05-05T11:57:00.000-04:002014-05-05T12:05:07.011-04:00Boat Creatures Topic on the Terrible Twosome<span style="font-size: large;"><b>When Peachy arrived on the <i>Sue</i> 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).</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5zT3UpRyh4ALrF2vdkGPf9WmPFqN1nCADSTnYjqkAHumWTCNmq2Zv8f94L78jRGsJS-WOQQIcADNzSuLzGVSRtSeUxGmK-Mdu8GIB9E1Y8x-_SAM7BDu9e3IHnoXjtUhTbG3cn1Vku3A/s1600/14065437404_ca8b8efdc5_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5zT3UpRyh4ALrF2vdkGPf9WmPFqN1nCADSTnYjqkAHumWTCNmq2Zv8f94L78jRGsJS-WOQQIcADNzSuLzGVSRtSeUxGmK-Mdu8GIB9E1Y8x-_SAM7BDu9e3IHnoXjtUhTbG3cn1Vku3A/s1600/14065437404_ca8b8efdc5_o.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Face and Ziva adapted well to living aboard - so much so that I believe, in their mind, they owned the <i>Sue.</i> 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).</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6WtZMWYH_NinrRABEe1RbCP_dAVKz90lXTmOJiObDMcd_K3r7ktQv-BiBQNDJfpxrFE4kgZdltKxS4nEowuzQbiww_bxahsgKhtMzQvsewMo8pVixSqXGtqhL84i5q8zHbzO6mY7WIA/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ6WtZMWYH_NinrRABEe1RbCP_dAVKz90lXTmOJiObDMcd_K3r7ktQv-BiBQNDJfpxrFE4kgZdltKxS4nEowuzQbiww_bxahsgKhtMzQvsewMo8pVixSqXGtqhL84i5q8zHbzO6mY7WIA/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+560.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>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. </b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyoDLc44QvGibKtI6iJ0WSgDS4m8yXC5lcTJ8L1c8eMbC0uUO996g3YLjZpVqxhohjuOHLyJ7YLyfA7vHABUt2k6Q4yDXfZqpJS7cypwG0keabZZKLHwztz6YsupXxjPAKIpoaZSFSnfo/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyoDLc44QvGibKtI6iJ0WSgDS4m8yXC5lcTJ8L1c8eMbC0uUO996g3YLjZpVqxhohjuOHLyJ7YLyfA7vHABUt2k6Q4yDXfZqpJS7cypwG0keabZZKLHwztz6YsupXxjPAKIpoaZSFSnfo/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+556.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b>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 <i>Sue</i>. In time, the terrible twosome learned the advantages of not taking chances when jumping from the <i>Sue</i> 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 <i>Sue </i>without noticing it was "the end of the road" (so to speak). Even at her age, she's still a good, strong swimmer!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Next blog, I'll talk about boat creatures that hang out <i>around </i>the boat.</b></span><br />
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<br />Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-45623403275033321032014-05-04T14:06:00.003-04:002014-05-04T14:06:41.399-04:00Let's Talk......Boat Creatures<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>We've taken a break from our "normal" blogging because Keith's been busy with other business. So, guess what? You get me again!</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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!). </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>We started out, after buying the <i>Sue,</i> 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.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7Uk6nXch8Y83hz-PK8NIBgaenI-TYwn4blkgk0c-MnhZiiID00Kvbwgk2Mu0ThXcLskGQAsnpKWpwyrWj72bnH4eSdmM0vY3xVwBjzjBNmZNHvD0ah9-gMrs7G1puFiivBPJGtIhgmU/s1600/038+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7Uk6nXch8Y83hz-PK8NIBgaenI-TYwn4blkgk0c-MnhZiiID00Kvbwgk2Mu0ThXcLskGQAsnpKWpwyrWj72bnH4eSdmM0vY3xVwBjzjBNmZNHvD0ah9-gMrs7G1puFiivBPJGtIhgmU/s1600/038+(2).JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ak71r1SqPAfCDT8m1ZDV2GHOnYce-oRBG0TjUYn2X27cuJ8WoWKXI1ZILyiyT5pxIk3RrEFlsKRKO9JK5XFVXFnx2u-XeqRUSch0n78_zBVrZ1yqyAb1uBVUls1YcSX6dFD5GtUVmZI/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ak71r1SqPAfCDT8m1ZDV2GHOnYce-oRBG0TjUYn2X27cuJ8WoWKXI1ZILyiyT5pxIk3RrEFlsKRKO9JK5XFVXFnx2u-XeqRUSch0n78_zBVrZ1yqyAb1uBVUls1YcSX6dFD5GtUVmZI/s1600/Carol's+Camera+03252011+349.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b>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).</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-61011267019338285172014-03-12T22:37:00.000-04:002015-05-30T02:32:32.196-04:00Day Sails<b><span style="font-size: large;">I have to admit, that second day sail was a lot better than the first sail we had on the <i>Sue.</i> 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.. </span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>South Padre Island from the Gulf of Mexico</b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>Sue</i> 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 <i>Sue.</i></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Why do I always call her "the <i>Sue</i>"? 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 <i>Grey Bird</i>. When we had talked about re-naming her, I was two hundred percent behind that idea!</span></b><br />
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<b style="text-align: center;">The mouth of the channel, looking at the north jetty toward SPI</b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">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 <i>Sue</i> back in position to catch that wind in her sails.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">So, it took me a while on the artistry of tacking, but what Keith was impressed with was my ability to hold the <i>Sue</i> 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 <i>Sue's </i>sails full.</span></b><br />
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<b>One of the things I loved about Port Isabel was all of the old Shrimp Boats.</b></div>
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<b>I thought it gave a unique look and feel to the marina but some</b></div>
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<b>saw it as an eyesore. A few years later a wrecking barge came through and </b></div>
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<b>demolished a great many of them. </b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">I intended to write this post on my memories of moving onto <i>Moonlight Sue</i> 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!).</span></b><br />
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<b>The Laguna Madre from South Padre Island had the most </b></div>
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<b>beautiful sunsets I had ever seen in my life - up to that time</b></div>
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<b> </b>Carol Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08341715515054534228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5780315960354039155.post-7591666645139230792014-03-11T00:11:00.001-04:002015-05-30T02:33:21.652-04:00Improving the Sail<span style="font-size: large;">I<b> 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.</b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">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.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">"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. <i>Grey Bird</i> 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. </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> 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..</span></b><br />
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<b>Calmer seas and company for our second day sail.</b></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JWTSACcH3fQ/Ux6MCHL3njI/AAAAAAAAAFI/2w5oHd2gFAA/s1600/0079496-R1-044-20A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JWTSACcH3fQ/Ux6MCHL3njI/AAAAAAAAAFI/2w5oHd2gFAA/s1600/0079496-R1-044-20A.jpg" width="216" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pra4HAcnoko/Ux6MB_yLy9I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/jyGvZ1BE1Ww/s1600/1145728_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pra4HAcnoko/Ux6MB_yLy9I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/jyGvZ1BE1Ww/s1600/1145728_1.jpg" width="320" /></a><b><i>Grey Bird</i></b></div>
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<b>The "original look" of the mast.</b></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XB-5DUpYn1A/Ux6MCrBxiOI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8s4m0FRGOaE/s1600/1145728_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XB-5DUpYn1A/Ux6MCrBxiOI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8s4m0FRGOaE/s1600/1145728_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Even the cockpit will eventually get a makeover</b></div>
<b><br /></b>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com