Getting Down to the Details

We have set our departure day for not later than May 10.  If we can get out before that it would be great, but absolutely no later, even if it means the paint is still wet.

But no!  The paint won't be wet on May 10, because we're done painting! 

I have stayed home from school today with a head cold and my thoughts are all over the figurative map.  I just began reading Annie Hill's Voyaging on a Small Income, primarily because she was an omni who ate vegetarian while at sea to save money.  She and her husband cruised on an income of about $2000 a year (back in 1995), and sailed a 28 foot catamaran that she calls "too small for two people to live on."  Well, we're on a 23 foot tri, so, welcome to the world of microcruising.  

I've been under the weather and had no desire to hang out in the warehouse huffing epoxy fumes the last couple days, so I've been starting the rather daunting process of deciding what to bring with us.  I purchased a copy of The Boat Galley Cookbook, which has lots of great advice on how to store food to make it last longer without refrigeration (no, we don't have a fridge on board) and ways to substitute easy-to-find ingredients for things that might not be available once we leave the US.  I've been taking an inventory of what we have, what we need, what we should leave behind.  We received the most thoughtful gift at my bridal shower in October - my dear, sailing-savvy friend Jenny got everyone together to get us a big box of galley accessories.  It was so amazing, and took away almost all the work of putting that stuff together.  

Next up is a list of clothing to bring, for me, anyway.  Cody has two pairs of shorts and an ultraviolet protective button-up that he says are all he's bringing.  I started a list of shoes to begin with:

1. Boat shoes (duh)
2. Flip flops (of course!)
3. Running shoes (for when we come into port and I need to decompress and move)
4. Rain boots (the first couple weeks might be cold and wet, and I want to stay as dry as possible!)
5. Five-fingers (for when it's not cold, but we're in rough seas, and I need to run around to haul up/down sail and secure lines and stuff)

The conversation went something like this:

Me:  Cody, I made a list of the shoes I'm bringing on our trip.

Cody, looking apprehensive:  You needed an entire list?

Me:  Well, yeah . . . so, there are five pair.

Cody:  FIVE?!  What do you need five pairs of shoes on a boat for?!

Me:  Well, <launches into aforementioned explanation> so, I really can't bring any fewer.

Cody:  Ugh.  I suppose.

Marian's shoe fetish:  1  Cody:  0

(but who's keeping score?)

Anyway, now I'm tallying up how many bathing suits to bring.  We'll see how that conversation goes.

In non-clothing and kitchen related news, we're planning on bringing Tri-oomph home this weekend!  We need to remount the pop-top/solar panel, seat covers, safety rails, and windows (one of which cracked and need to be replaced), fold her up and set her back on the trailer.  Our boat-inspector extraordinaire need to come over and inspect our mast and rigging, then we hope to drop her back in the water!  It would be pretty rad to actually get to sail before we embark on 3 months of sailing.  You know, makes sure we remember how to do it and all.  Seriously.  

So, that's where we're at.  I have 2 more weeks of school, Cody has two more weeks of work, and then we have one week of no-commitments to wrap things up and get the hell out of here.  

Here's some boat repair pics.

Repainted interior.  It's called "Creme Brulee"

Once we got it folded out on barrels and jacks, Cody said, completely deadpan, "That looks badass."

We re-fiberglassed the entire skeg in anticipation of frequently running aground.

Oh yeah!  We actually got out on the water one day!  Motored over to the beach (not on Tri-oomph, obviously).

Looking so, so sleek with just the hard coat ablative finished.

And looking oh so tri-toned with the soft ablative.  Cody's mom's SO is a retired fisherman.  His boat was red, so he has gallons of red Pettit boat paint at his house.  If we'd realized he had the epoxy top paint we'd be about to set sail on a bright red boat.  That epoxy finish is so nice!  But we didn't realize until we were up to our elbows in green again.  So he gave us a gallon of "red", $300 soft bottom paint, that's really "rust".  It . . . doesn't look as bad as I thought it would.  And whether you love it or hate it, it should be below the waterline.  All for the sake of not spending literally days scraping marine growth off her.