an update.

Apologies for the radio silence. This season has slipped away from us and as a result, we will NOT be in the Caribbean come November. Interlude spent the winter in storage where she was supposed to have her chainplates replaced and unfortunately, that didn't happen until June. Our mistake was in not working on her all winter while she was indoors. We have several significant projects that still need to happen before we can cast off and we did not do them. Oops! Having a baby is time consuming, you know? This fall and winter, we will not make the same mistake. 

Projects we still need/want to complete:

• Fix leaks over the butterfly hatch, v-berth and quarter berth
• Replace some of the lights for LEDs. We did several this season, or rather Josh did, but there are a few more to go. This will help lower battery consumption in addition to the frequency of which the bulbs will need to be replaced.
• Replace the head. This one is a biggie. We had plans to have my brother help do this while visiting but time got away from us.
• Put lights and outlets in the cockpit. The lights will be LED but at this point we are trying to figure where to mount them. On the cabin top? On one of the bars of the dodger/bimini? To be determined.
• Reconfigure storage situation in the lazarette
• Possibly rebed the port lights
• Convert the galley hand pump to a foot pump. Hopefully freshwater but we are toying with the idea of doing it as a seawater one.
• Replace v-berth mattress
• Account for all the engine spare parts
• Repair a few tiny areas on the canvas on the dodger/bimini
• Potentially replace the running rigging
• Convert flat sheets into fitted ones for the quaterberth
• Configure storage for long term cruising. This one is a toughie. I kind of need to wait until Josh has used all of his allotted storage to work on space for canned and dry goods and we need to take a good hard look at exactly how many clothes items and toiletries we realistically need. 

That's all I can think of now. I'll update as we go. Or hopefully, cross them off?

did you know

Stumbled across this posting on a tumblr site I follow and couldn't resist sharing with you. Being so young and now undertaking this journey with a baby, we certainly feel the dismay of those around us when we tell them our plan. But we feel it's important that each of us follow our own path. Maybe it's not for you. And that's fine. We don't begrudge you that. It is, however what we feel strongly about. Something we feel we need to do for our own satisfaction. Enjoy. This pretty much says it all.

"Did you know, you can quit your job, you can leave university? You aren’t legally required to have a degree, it’s a social pressure and expectation, not the law, and no one is holding a gun to your head. You can sell your house, you can give up your apartment, you can even sell your vehicle, and your things that are mostly unnecessary. You can see the world on a minimum wage salary, despite the persisting myth, you do not need a high paying job. You can leave your friends (if they’re true friends they’ll forgive you, and you’ll still be friends) and make new ones on the road. You can leave your family. You can depart from your hometown, your country, your culture, and everything you know. You can sacrifice. You can give up your $5.00 a cup morning coffee, you can give up air conditioning, frequent consumption of new products. You can give up eating out at restaurants and prepare affordable meals at home, and eat the leftovers too, instead of throwing them away. You can give up cable TV, Internet even. This list is endless. You can sacrifice climbing up in the hierarchy of careers. You can buck tradition and others’ expectations of you. You can triumph over your fears, by conquering your mind. You can take risks. And most of all, you can travel. You just don’t want it enough. You want a degree or a well-paying job or to stay in your comfort zone more. This is fine, if it’s what your heart desires most, but please don’t envy me and tell me you can’t travel. You’re not in a famine, in a desert, in a third world country, with five malnourished children to feed. You probably live in a first world country. You have a roof over your head, and food on your plate. You probably own luxuries like a cellphone and a computer. You can afford the $3.00 a night guest houses of India, the $0.10 fresh baked breakfasts of Morocco, because if you can afford to live in a first world country, you can certainly afford to travel in third world countries, you can probably even afford to travel in a first world country. So please say to me, “I want to travel, but other things are more important to me and I’m putting them first”, not, “I’m dying to travel, but I can’t”, because I have yet to have someone say they can’t, who truly can’t. You can, however, only live once, and for me, the enrichment of the soul that comes from seeing the world is worth more than a degree that could bring me in a bigger paycheck, or material wealth, or pleasing society. Of course, you must choose for yourself, follow your heart’s truest desires, but know that you can travel, you’re only making excuses for why you can’t. And if it makes any difference, I have never met anyone who has quit their job, left school, given up their life at home, to see the world, and regretted it. None. Only people who have grown old and regretted never traveling, who have regretted focusing too much on money and superficial success, who have realized too late that there is so much more to living than this."

Via Wunderkammer

This. Every single thing about this. It falls in line with our beliefs as travelers and wanderers. This is the life we want to give to our child. A life free from the trappings of things and the need to "fit in" with the norms of our American society. The most interesting people you'll ever meet are the ones who take that leap. Who trust in themselves and the wholeness and beauty of the world surrounding them. Who never, for one second doubt that there is more to living than what society tells us we should want for ourselves. Who experience the culture of others, who nurture a spirit of humanity and soak up every new opportunity given to them. That. That is what living is. We just can't wait to see the world and show it to our little one in this way.

sunday share!

This post is also known as "mistakes were made". This is a cautionary tale. Generally on the Sunday share I want to tell you about an awesome or helpful upgrade project we've done. This one? Yeah, great theory but mistakes were definitely made. 

Back story: I regularly clean the cabin sole (floor of the cabin) since we have a dog who sheds profusely. And I am not kidding when I say PROFUSELY. When I clean the floor, I start by vacuuming (we have a long runner rug and a few doormat rugs) then follow with hand-wiping with Simple Green and a rag then sometimes taking a pass at it with another rag and some Old English Lemon Oil. This makes the floor shine but also causes a certain slippery-ness. I also include the companionway stairs when I do this routine, so you can imagine that with bare feet or low-tread shoes, coming down those steps can be a little dangerous. Actually, even between cleanings when you come down them with damp feet they can be treacherous. In addition to having no texture besides varnished and sealed wood texture, they are also very steep. 

And then I had a brilliant idea. Treads! I've seen them on countless production boats so I assumed they'd fix our problem. They did, but we made a few errors in the process. Josh was able purchase a 6 pack of adhesive treads for just such a use. I cleaned the steps and set about applying them (peeling the backing and centering them on the steps. Josh thought maybe we should wrap them around the forward edge of each of the steps (see photo) because he was sure we stepped up them we used the surface closest to the edge more than the middle depth of each stair. Okay, so I did that. Everything seemed fine until we decided to actually come down them. Did I mention that these stairs are notoriously steep? And that the overhang from one down to the next is pretty narrow? It is. And this means that when you walk down them in shorts, you catch the back of your leg on the sandpaper-like surface and scrape your leg. Not only scrape it, we are talking break the skin abrasion. Like it leaves a mark and you bleed down the back of your calf. Or your thigh if you lean up against them when you're trying to reach a particularly unreachable cabinet space. Ta-da! So lesson is this. DO NOT WRAP THE TREAD AROUND THE FRONT SURFACE OF EACH STEP. If we hadn't done that, these treads would have been a no-brainer home run. As they are, we'll keep them and develop tough calf skin until they need replacing and never make the same mistake again.

perhaps?

After my recent bout with tossing my cookies I figured I should get serious about making a move to get my seasickness under control. First up in testing is sea bands. You know, those ridiculous elastic wrist things that you wear on the pressure points on the inside forearm. They run around $13 and since my mom has owned a pair since they came on the market I knew what to expect--I just had yet tried them for water excursions. 

We saw the wind was very light a few Sundays ago but also that the swells were nonexistent. Perfect. I slid those oh-so-chic looking wrist bands on as we motored out and we were off. My only only real complaint is that the little nobby bit that pushes on your pressure point starts to hurt a little upon extended wear. I felt just peachy the 4 hours we were being carried along by the breeze. I wouldn't say this is a definitive review, as the sea was a calm one, but for now, I'll be using them again. I'm also looking for a product recommended to me by my sister-in-law called Motion Eaze, which I have yet to find. Will keep you posted!

on tossing your cookies

Monday was a first. We took Interlude out for a sail knowing it might be windy and did our best to account for that by reefing in the main so we wouldn't be over powered (read: tipped way, way over with the sails practically straining from the force of the wind). What we didn't account for was the 4-6 foot waves. At first it was fine. We motored out, me as the lookout on the bow, the bowspirit bobbing up and then landing with a white capped splash back down. Totally cool. I held on to the railing, flexed my knees to absorb the impact and was a-okay. Then we put the sails up and I was at the helm, which I find greatly improves any feelings of nausea as I am constantly scanning the horizon and generally occupied making sure we are on the right course, taking full advantage of the wind for optimum speed, etc. And I was fine until I wasn't. It crept up on me real slow like. And I chewed some ginger candy and maybe I was feeling okay? It was hard to tell. But then those 4-6 foot waves I mentioned, well they were coming at us crosswise, rolling us from port to starboard instead of bow to stern. So I changed our course and we headed back bow into them. Up and down, rolling from the top to the valley like on the roller coasters that make your stomach feel like its dropping out of the bottom of you abdomen. Over and over, so high I'd lose sight of the horizon and then so low all I could see was the azure water surrounding us and the sound of the hull cutting through them sounds more like slapping than the usual melodious fizzy bubbling. I let Josh steer and laid flat on my back with my eyes closed in the cockpit, breathing through the discomfort. It seemed like it was working one second and then the next I've got my head over the downwind rail tossing my cookies. Did I mention this is the very first time this has ever happened to me (unless my mom can recount some horrible car trip I've blocked from my mind?). I did feel better but as for my future as a sailor, I'd say I've got some serious sleuthing to do on how to nip this in the bud. 

new toy.

A

We got a kayak! 

When I graduated from college oh-so-many-years ago, my dad asked me what I wanted as a gift. Wise old 22 year old that I was, having NO idea where I'd be at the end of that year, let alone in the next 5 years, I proclaimed that I wanted a kayak. 

I can promise you that I was not a die hard kayaker (is that what they call themselves??). I wasn't even an intermediate. Honestly, I don't think I had ever attempted to kayak in. my. life. So why this new found obsession with water sports? Couldn't tell ya. My best guess is that I had dreams of seeing the world from a boat, which is not actually too far from the truth at this point. Oh, and also, then, as now, I am haunted by water. My life is never so fulfilled as when I am in or near water. I am not even kidding. I'm like that girl/mermaid in "Splash". I start to wither up and die (figuratively, of course) unless I get to submerge myself in water on a regular basis. That's why winter is so torturous as a midwestern dweller.  

Majorly off topic there for a minute, but I'm baaaack. Okay. Kayak. A few years ago Menards, of all places, had kayaks as part of their after Thanksgiving sale and I get this call from my dad. "Hey, they have these kayaks on sale. Do you still want one?" And foolishly, I said yes once again (what is wrong with me??). At this point, we do not have a boat, I don't have a roof rack to carry it on the mini to the lake or the river, or even a space in which to store it. Duh. You guys, I'm super smart, if you haven't figured it out. Luckily, I have the super coolest parents around that agreed to store it in the top of their garage for us. Every trip up to see us since that purchase has had some sort of mention about bringing the kayak up. Sort of a running joke. But it's ours at last! They brought it when the visited last weekend and now she's tied up in front of our bow at the dock. I just took her out this morning, as a matter of fact! Between the two of us, we take her out at least twice a week. It's allowed us to explore the marina (and scope out what other types of boats have their home here at Reef Point) as well as paddle up the Root River. I've seen lots of mallards and geese and today I even saw some sort of weasel trying to haul a dead fish from the water. What a wonderful tool to explore with and a great workout too!

sunday share.

This week's share was a joint effort requiring some patience AND some elbow grease. Josh is the Internet surfer of the two of us and looks around for inspiration from other Union 36 owners--how they've modified, DIY'd, or upgraded their vessel to suit their lifestyle. One thing he found while poking around was a few owners who stripped down the teak in their cockpits. Ours, as you can see from the photo was in need of at least a scrape down and new coat of varnish and sealant. We decided that in the name of better traction for wet days and for a nice visual contrast, the cockpit bench will stay unfinished. 

A heat gun, a paint scraper, a chisel (which turned out to be a better scraping tool), and plenty of hours to spend were the key ingredients. I started on Wednesday around noon and finished the cockpit around noon on Friday. Slow and steady, right? Actually, the process was pretty tedious. Blow this crazy hot air from the heat gun over the surface of the teak, and when it blisters, run the scraper or chisel over the surface to pull off the varnish and top coat. Small sections, over and over and over. Some places it would all come off in a swipe, but some places required me to scrape again and again. Also, you have to be very mindful not to leave the heat gun pointed in one place for too long. Oops. There may be a few scorches places that hopefully some sanding and sunbleaching will take care of. We also did some teak on the cabin top. There are some boards inlaid on the fiber glass near the mast and we decided they should be unvarnished/sealed so they would have more traction when you're hoisting the main.

Eventually, all the teak will get stripped and some of it revarnished. The floor grate in the cockpit will stay naked teak once it's stripped, as will the grab rails on the cabin top. For now the boards by the mast and the cockpit bench that were stripped are "aging" in the sun while we are away this week. Next step is sanding to hopefully completely rid the surfaces of any remaining varnish/top coat and then replacing the caulk between the boards on the bench. Looks like I've got my work cut out for me!

Fair winds, and happy Sunday!

Top photo is before and bottom is after. 

off the docks.

Bottom two photo by Corey

Last week we headed back to the city for a week so I could finish up a freelance gig but prior to that, we'd been tucked in the marina for a glorious 10 days. Over that second weekend, we had our first overnight guests, Josh's uncle Corey and his lovely lady friend Merrie. They arrived late Friday evening and we had a few beers, chatted, soaked in the cool evening air before turning in for the night. 

Saturday dawned perfect. Breezy, sunny, warm but not sweltering, pretty much ideal for our day at Bristol Renaissance Faire. Ok, so geek alert, but I am reading the Game of Thrones series and am waaaaay into the lords and ladies and knights thing. We'd been to Bristol 5 or 6 years ago and thought it was pretty cool but my current geekiness over GoT made it even more fun. Corey and Merrie are a fun pair who only added to our experience--we were all overgrown kids just "ooooh"ing and "ahhhhh"ing at the craftsmen, costumes, and shows being performed on various stages throughout the faire. We spent the entire day seeing and doing everything there is to see and do there. If you've never been, have kids, or are a giant kid or geek at heart, I cannot recommend a trip to Bristol enough. 

Sunday, took them out for a sail. It was a first for them both, I believe. The wind was very light and I'm sorry to say that it could have been a more exciting first time if only the wind had cooperated. Oh well. It was warm and sunny and I think they had fun despite that. Just means they'll have to come up later in the season for another try!

After the sail, we had lunch and found the lighthouse at the north end of Racine. The grounds are lovely. A garden, a tiny museum, and beach access make it absolutely picturesque. 

Just a wonderful weekend at and away from the dock. 

day in the life. or just another day in paradise.

Life on the boat is a whole different animal than anything we've experienced thus far. Truthfully, we've been moving more slowly around here and we aren't even mad about it. I feel better than I have in awhile. It seems like the sunshine, the flexibility of our schedule, and the change of scenery are just what the doctor ordered. I'm calm, I'm more focused, I'm relaxed. I like myself on the boat. That's not to say that there aren't days that are busy or demanding (I fully expect this to be the sort of ebb and flow we will experience once we are underway) but I feel less tense when tackling those instances. 

Every day is a little different but this is mostly how it goes:

We get up when our internal clocks wake us, take the dog out, maybe have some coffee, I go for a run or to the YMCA to work out, Josh works while I'm gone--takes calls, does paperwork, sends emails, etc. I come back, I fix lunch, we eat in the cockpit, plan our afternoon (is today laundry day? Or do we need to get groceries?) then he goes back to it and I work on blog posts, read, clean, or jump in the pool here at the marina. As of this week my bike is here so I plan on doing some exploring and we got a kayak as my college graduation gift a billion years ago (thanks for storing it all this time, mom and pop!).

settled in.

Blogging from the boat! First time for everything and this one of those things I'm glad came sooner rather than later. The wi-fi is sketchy at best so I suspect there will some delayed posts. Oh well. If that's my biggest complaint, life ain't too shabby. Plus, I'm sitting in the open cockpit, breeze on my shoulders, fresh cup of joe in hand and my faithful pup next to me. No, not too shabby at all. 

We came up weekend before last around lunch time, unloaded our many bags and dug in. We brought the pup with us who seemed to remember the drill from the brief time up here last fall. She jumped aboard like a champ. She and water are not buddies so the proximity of water, especially deep water, always makes me a little worried for her anxiety level. We even let her roam the docks off her leash for awhile later. 

Josh decided to do a bit of organizing below deck so I cleaned out the dock box so we could stow some folding chairs, our power cords and hoses there when we are out for day sails. Guess what laid in wait?? Spiders. And grime. Oh, and also? More spiders. Not tiny ones. Big ones with fat bodies the size of your pinky toe. I thought I might have nightmares of them crawling on me and I was right. I woke up in a cold sweat on Monday thinking one had climbed into my ear. Yech. 

We grabbed groceries at Aldi, popped in the local Salvation Army (which is a hidden gem near the marina--yes! going back on a lazy afternoon once i bring my bike up), and picked up some beer and made dinner on the grill.  Grilled baked potatoes, salad, and grilled pork chops. After a long afternoon tidying, fending off spiders, and cleaning, it was heavenly. 

The rest of the weekend was a lazy, windy, wonderful time.

survey says....

Our survey, which took 10 hours over 2 days ("thorough" is the word of the day if you plan to make such a huge purchase and want to know without a doubt that your future home will, in fact, float while you are living aboard it) turned up various issues on the boat we are under contract to buy. Some of them we knew about and some were a surprise (not the good kind, mind you!). We used a gentleman out of Green Bay, WI named Ben Miller (who I highly recommend. I am happy to pass along his contact info for those in the market for a survey.) and after lots of discussing with him and between us, we approached the seller/brokerage with our list of "issues". We fully expected they would fix at least the very minimum problems in order to move forward with the sea trial. Those issues were more safety and structural in nature and ABSOLUTELY HAD to be addressed before putting the boat in the water, mast up, sails on, etc. Surprise of surprises, they have agreed to fix almost all of the items on the list! We should hear back today or tomorrow about the schedule of the maintenance and when we can get her into the water to complete the sea trial. We are beyond excited with the response and are already making our own little "to do" list of things we want to upgrade once she is ours :-)

make 'em an offer....hopefully one they won't refuse.

You guys, this is stressful. We looked at the Union 36 again on Friday, toting along our laundry list of things to consider (the list Mr. Nigel Calder has in his book Cruising Handbook). On the way home we threw out concerns and ideas for upgrades, and of course next steps. This boat is slightly different than previous boats we've seen in that it's owned by a brokerage, not an individual. What does this mean, exactly? That's what we are trying to figure out. Actually, we feel it puts us in a good position. This particular brokerage is associated with a marina and has its own shop for repairs, upgrades, and just all around knowledgeable people. So we have the distinct comfort of knowing that any repairs necessary will be performed by professionals. The next steps: we'll make an offer, make sure the surveyor inspects the issues we feel the boat already needs fixed and hopefully they'll agree to fix them. We actually feel as if the boat is very well outfitted for our purposes. And in excellent condition. Fingers crossed!