MAYA Adventures

2012-02-10T11:05:00.000-05:00

I can't lie to you. We are really liking this retirement gig. Life in the Florida Keys is very nice. There is a real community here, a sense of belonging. Even though the people here are passing through but for a short time, we have grown fond of the many friends we have made and truly believe we will be 'buds' for a long time to come.

I think one of the catalysts that brings people together is the proximity of one boat to the next. Marinas are tight spots and you cannot help but get to know your neighbor. As such, you are compelled to get out and meet each other. Back home, our house sits back in the woods on a little over an acre of ground. We can go months without seeing one of our neighbors. Here on the docks, you see everyone almost every day. And if that is not enough for you, there is a happy hour every afternoon at five where all the boaters gather on the beach, sharing a drink and some stories as the sun goes down.

One of the things we wanted to do this year while in Marathon was to try out a few of the different marinas on the island. There are many and each has its own flavor. The first place we tried was called Sombrero Dockside. Probably in the best location on the water, Sombrero is known for its lively clientel and popular bar and grill. Each night at the bar there would be live entertainment. The genres ranged from country to pop with one night reserved for karaoke (ugh!). Most times, the music was quite good, but sometimes it was just plain bad. Unfortunately for us, we were two slips removed from the stage which meant we heard every note that was played. It was if they were playing in our basement. This is okay if it was only a few nights a week. At Sombrero, in season, there is music every night. I don't think we could have made it the whole winter.

Luckily for us, we were able to get a slip at one of the other marinas we were wanting to try out. Across the road on the bayside of the island sits Banana Bay. As loud and boisterous as Sombrero was, Banana Bay is quiet and serene. With a scant 27 slips, Banana Bay is a tight knit community of boaters who value thier privacy. While there are still the nightly gatherings on the beach for happy hour, the conversations are shorter and pointed more towards banal things like the weather and the tide. We have made one friend here that we hope visits more often:

This is an eight foot manatee that hangs around the marina, looking for a kind soul to offer her some fresh water. It is amazing how large and docile these animals are. She lumbers in every other day or so, hangs around for an hour or so and then is back on her way. Its fun to watch her as she roll over from her back to her belly as the kids squeal in delight.

So as the days amble by here at "shuffleboard city," we are spending most of our time working on the boat. (theres a surprise!) The big project this season is to repaint the 'house'. The 'house is the part of the boat that is out of the water and not the hull. It comprises the flybridge and foward decks, along with the dinghy deck. It has been a lot bigger job than we thought it was going to be. Maya was looking a little tired in the paint department and I am glad to say that her new coats have made a great difference.

We are gearing up for our big 10 week Bahamas cruise later in the year. We can't wait for that! For now though, we are enjoying the weather and all the good friends we have made. I am going to make it a point to get out in the neighborhood a little more when we get back to Cincinnati. I wonder what they would think if we had happy hour nightly out on Treeknoll?

2012-01-12T09:37:00.004-05:00

After several months back in Ohio, we are finally aboard Maya once again. Its so nice to be back on the water. Its just so relaxing! We were talking the other day and Kim mentioned that after almost four years of owning Maya, the boat finally feels like our home. Kim thinks its all the special touches that make it seem so personal now. New chairs, carpet, paint....all the usual 'X' chromosome stuff. I feel that its all the 'units' we have invested in Maya that makes her ours: boat units and blood units (from so many injuries) ....the 'Y' chromosome stuff.

So Maya sat in the hot Florida sun this past summer. Up the river in a marina off the Caloosahatchie was her sabbatical home from June to October. We checked on her from time to time though, charging the house batteries and shooing away the occasional spider. All in all, after a thorough cleaning and some polish here and there, Maya was ready to go again.

We spent some of October and all of November and part of December down in Fort Myers. From there we tackled many of the projects we had been putting off. Maya got a new radar, some new furniture and carpet. We also got rid of the old surround sound and video/stereo units. In today's world, if you have the Internet, you have it all. No need for all those old pesky electronic components. If you have a wide screen TV and a wifi connection, you are good to go!

It was also nice being around Dad for all that time. He has been going through a rough patch recently and I think our boating diversion was good for him. He loves being on Maya and we try and take him out whenever we can. He is moving from his present spot to a high rise on the water soon. Here is a shot of a proud owner with his new digs in the background.

We haven't had a lot visitors cruise with us on Maya. I don't know whether its the idea of being on a boat with 'Gilligan' and 'Mrs. Howell' at the controls or just the fact that its hard to carve out the time off necessary to do a trip, but our passenger manifests are pretty sparse. We haven't had a lot of takers on our invites.

So, this past New Years Eve, we had planned to spend the evening with our good friends Tom and Tina. They were down from Cincy for a short break and the idea was that we would drive up to Sarasota where they were staying and meet them for some end of the year fun. Soon after that, the plan was that we would be depart for our trip down to the Florida Keys.

A few days before our New Year's bash, the weather forecasts indicated that a fast moving cold front would impact our ability to make the voyage. It takes three days to get from Fort Myers to the Keys and you have to make sure you will have good weather for the crossing. Cold fronts and north winds make for a very lumpy ride and we just weren't digging the idea of being bounced around for so long.

The two options were to leave early (and miss the end of the year festivities) or delay our departure until the adverse weather conditions had passed. It looked as if it might be up to a week before things settled down out in the ocean, so we decided to leave early.

I didn't like the idea of bailing on our plans with our friends so I gave Tom a call and told him about the situation with the weather. Being a pilot, he understood right away that you can't mess around with Mother Nature. So, trying out this spontineity thing again, I asked him if he and Tina would like to 'move the party offshore' and join us on the crossing. I mean, what could be more fun than trying to outrun a cold front in a small boat on international waters?

He agreed immediately. Tina.... maybe not so immediately....but pretty quickly nonetheless. Kim calls boating, 'camping on the water'. In some ways she is right. The quarters aren't as spacious as they are at home and for a few days, privacy takes a holiday. Lets just say that when someone flushes one of the toilets onboard, everyone else knows about it. They make a lot of noise.

Anyway, Tina is such a good sport about everything. I knew she would embrace the trip once she got over the initial shock. Tina and I are a lot alike....we are cut from the same cloth. So, I knew where she was coming from. Would I rather spend a week in Florida in my oceanfront condo with all the comforts of home or would I rather spend that time like a cork, bobbing up and down the waves hoping that my friend planned this trip so we would be safely ashore before the weather closed in? Ha!

So, the day of our departure, Tom and Tina showed up at the dock with their toothbrushes and a case of wine, ready for the cruise. They climbed aboard Maya and we were off. First stop: Marco Island. Just a short 6 hours away, Marco is a great place to spend the night. Totally protected from the wind and current and a very short dinghy ride away from lots of good restaurants, I thought this anchorage would put everyone at ease. It turned out the seas were like glass the whole way down and the trip couldn't have been better. We dinghied in to shore for dinner at a great restaurant that night. All was good.

The next day we departed at 'oh dark thirty' for our next stop: the Little Shark River. Located at the southern tip of mainland Florida, Little Shark River is about as far from civilization you can get (not counting Clermont County, Ohio). There are no cell towers, internet connections or even other people for miles and miles around. Just you and nature baby! After another day of smooth sailing, we arrived at the anchorage 20 minutes before happy hour. And, happy it was. We may have just set the world record for wine consumption that night.

Later that night when we were outside admiring the multitude of stars in the sky, one of the voyagers remarked how 'pretty the spinning stars were.' I didn't have the heart to tell him/her that the boat and the sky were perfectly still and that perhaps it was his/her head that was spinning. Oh well in my book, its a good night when nobody falls overboard. Kim also made a spectacular dinner, complete with grilled chicken, some potato thing and a vegetable, I think. I can't seem to remember anything other than it was good. hmmmm.

The last day, I had everyone up before dawn. The cold front was bearing down on us and I wanted to be safely tied to the dock in Marathon before the winds kicked up. I am not sure, but I think Tom was still drunk when we hoisted the anchor. He kept going on about those stars again, so I sent him back to bed.

Here's Tom thinking about how he will never be a liver organ donor.

It was a short 40 miles down across the open water to the middle keys where we would be the next three months...about a 5 hour run. The front was scheduled to arrive around 1800 (six p.m. for you landlubbers) and I wanted to be there by noon. As luck would have it, the seas were dead calm for the entire passage. If it weren't for the porpoises that were chasing us, I doubt that there would have been a ripple in the water. It was picture perfect.

We pulled into Marathon right on schedule and got into our slip without any problems. That night we met up with two of Tina's friends, Jody and Ed. They have a house down here in the Keys and they invited us all over for dinner... and it was wonderful. As we sat on their back veranda having a pre-dinner drink, the winds began to howl. 35 knots, at least. Boy was I glad we were on land! I love it when a plan comes together.

The next morning, Tom and Tina had to say their goodbyes and return to the great white north. We had a ball having them aboard for those three days and they have an open invitation to cruise anytime they want.

2011-06-21T22:49:00.001-04:00

One of the downsides to being in a career field for a long time is that sometimes your professional life spills over into your personal life. I can imagine how an accountant might view his friends as 'personal exemptions' after a lifetime of doing taxes. Some of my business executive friends can't stop talking in corporate speak. A conversation with them will always include words like 'synergy' and 'organic'. Problems are 'challenges' and obstacles are 'learning opportunities'. I don't know if I have ever had a real live "Aha moment" but I faked one once at a dinner party just to keep the conversation moving. I also have a couple of friends who teach elementary school. I think you have to be a special person to do that for a living. But I think that after a few years behind the desk, many have trouble turning off the persona they use everyday with their students. When at their homes, for instance, we have to make sure we use our 'inside voices'. Once we were invited to a cookout and I am sure that when the food was ready, the hostess told us all to "line up." I truly wanted to ask her if we had to sit 'boy-girl-boy-girl' but I don't think she would have gotten it.

So after 30 years of flying around airplanes, I too have some spillovers to deal with. This last trip up the west coast of Florida was a perfect example.

One thing pilots always have in the back of their minds is a backup plan. Doesn't matter what the situation, we are always thinking 'what if'. What if the weather is bad? Where we going to go? Better have a plan.

What if something breaks? Where you going to get it fixed? Better have something in mind.

What if? What if? What if? It is enough to drive you (and your spouse) crazy.

So, me being the itinerary planner, I seem to worry a bit too much about the schedule. Originally, we were going to go to the Bahamas. I don't know how many schedule iterations I went through before we finally scrubbed the trip, but it was a ton. Granted, there are a lot of 'what ifs' involved with a trip like that. I mean you just can't fire up the engines and take off across the ocean, can you? Well, I can't.

The western Florida cruise should have been a piece of cake. From Fort Myers, where the trip began, until we reached our destination of Clearwater, there are many great anchorages, marinas and attractions for us to visit. If there is anyplace on the water that you can just wing it and be safe, western Florida is it.

We started off thinking we were going to take three weeks to a month to visit all the places on the agenda. We were going to spend three days here and two days there. I had us staying at a marina in St. Pete for a week and an anchorage in Useppa Island for 4 days. I poured over the guidebooks and internet for every scrap of information I could find. After a few days I proudly showed Kim the fruits of my labor. "Huh!" she remarked. "I bet we don't do a quarter of all that," she said.

"No way!" I told her. "This is going to be great."

"Well" she said, "let just provision for a week to start. We can always buy more food as we move up the coast." I was fine with that because, what if something happened and we had to abort the trip, etc. etc. etc. I was at it again. The 'what if' syndrome.

We left Ken's house and started up towards our first destination - as planned. As it turned out, that was the only day that went off as envisioned by me. We were going to spend three days at the first anchorage, exploring the beaches and restaurants in Useppa Island. Each night as we sat on the back deck of the boat thinking about what we would do tomorrow, it seemed like we would lose a day off the itinerary. Our first stop ended up being two days instead of three. We skipped stop number two and went straight to stop number three, thinking we would just add a day on at that destination.

I think I drove Kim crazy going over every possible variation in the schedule we might undertake. "We can stay an extra night in Tampa if we skip night number seven in St. Pete," I would tell her. Or, "there's a great band playing on Wednesday in Sarasota but that would mean we would have to skip the Venice anchorage," I said to her. This was a daily event for us, this schedule gerrymandering. I think I was taking a lot of the spontaneity out of our trip as scheduling became more of a chore than something to look forward to.

One night the phone rang and it was our daughter. She had been in an accident and while, thank goodness she wasn't hurt, her car was totaled. Since the car was in my name it meant that I would have to fly back to Cincinnati and deal with insurance people. I also needed to help our daughter get another set of wheels. This was a 'what if' I hadn't anticipated.

Out came the paper and pencil and within a few minutes I had another itinerary ready for Kim to review.

"Okay" I said. "We can turn around tomorrow and still make it to the last half of our original trip if you want, or if you would rather, we can stop in Cabbage Key for blah, blah blah. " Peeking up from my handywork, I could see that Kim's eyes were glazing over. "Lets just get back" were her words of wisdom.

So we did. It took a another week to get Maya back to Fort Myers and tucked away in her slip but we had a good time on the way.

As we sat at the airport waiting to board our flight home, I turned to Kim and said, "You know, if this flight cancels, we can take the one thirty flight to Atlanta and connect to the four thirty back to Cincinnati. And if we don't get on the one thirty, we can......"

Judging by her response, I don't think she appreciated my due diligence.

2011-05-16T15:08:00.000-04:00

For some time, we had been putting together a trip from the east coast of Florida to the Abacos Islands in the Bahamas. We had put a lot of time and effort into planning this trip and were very excited about the journey. The plan was to stay about six weeks, exploring all the tiny islands that make up the northern part of our Island neighbor. Unfortunately, mother nature did not cooperate with us and we had to scrub the mission. Turns out that the water levels in Lake Okeechobee (which we needed to cross in order to get from where we were in Fort Myers over to the other side of Florida) were too shallow for us to safely navigate. They are having a drought in Florida and the lack of rainfall has had a serious impact on the lake levels. So, discretion being the better part of valor, we decided to go to plan "B" and head up the west coast of the state and visit some of the wonderful ports on the Gulf side.

Our first stop was at our old friends Ken and Phyllis Weber's home. When I was a corporate pilot at P&G, Ken was one of the pilots I flew with. He has been retired from flying for many years now but we still keep in touch. As a matter of fact, Ken was partially responsible for us getting into the boating world in the first place. Ken and Phyllis have owned a 56 foot trawler for over 30 years now. Kim and I were so impressed with their boat when we were on it the first time that we thought we would like to own one someday ourselves. So, 20 years later we found ourselves pulling into the Weber's dock outside their home in St. James City, fulfilling a dream from many years past.

To put it mildly, Ken and Phyllis are living the good life. Outside their waterfront home on the shores of San Carlos Bay, is where they keep their boat. They can keep a keen eye on it from the three levels of their home which all have expansive views of the water. They also have a pool and hot tub from where they unwind each evening to the sounds of lapping water and the taste of a fine pinot grigio. (Am I sounding a bit like Robin Leach?) Of course, they invited us to join them for cocktails that afternoon and we happily agreed.

I must tell you that sitting there in his pool with a glass of wine was quite the experience. I wouldn't call it a vulgar display of wealth but rather the fruits of the culmination of many years of planning and lots of just plain dumb luck. We toasted our good fortunes, well aware that we deserved none of it and that it could be all plucked away at any moment. "Carpe diem!" as they say.

We spent a wonderful evening with Ken and Phyllis. They took us to their favorite restaurant (in their Rolls of course!) where we dined on the freshest fish in southwest Florida. From there it was back to the boat for a nightcap and then a good nights sleep.

I hope Kim doesn't get too used to this lifestyle and its going to be hard to replicate it on a daily basis. But I will tell you that if we have learned anything from our short time at sea, its been to enjoy whatever gifts you have been given, whenever possible. You never know what tomorrow might bring.

2011-03-31T15:39:00.000-04:00

Our first cruise was now 'in the books' and it was time to head home and catch up with our lives up in Ohio. Three months was a long time for us to be gone and I think we were both getting a little tired. We have Maya tied up to a dock behind a friend's home near Fort Myers Beach. She will stay there for the next couple of months while we get ready for the next adventure.

We were scheduled to attend a Defever Cruiser's Rendezvous in Sarasota the third week of March. This annual event is a chance for fellow Defever owners to confab together to share stories, drinks and adventures. We always look forward to seeing all of our friends at the annual Rendezvous. Its a great three day party.

Around the end of day two however, we started to run out of gas. We had been boating non-stop almost since Christmas and feelings of homesickness were beginning to set in. Maya had been put to bed, our car was loaded up for the drive north and I think our brains had already checked out from life on the sea. As we got ready for the final day of the Rendezvous, we discovered our hearts just weren't in it. So instead of taking the highway offramp for the meeting venue, we kept going straight up I-75.

We haven't made the drive up from Florida to Ohio in a long time. Being back on the highway sure brought back some good memories though. When I was younger, we used to vacation in Florida every summer. During the high school and college years, there were the spring break trips. Now that I am in my golden years ;>) I am a little nostalgic for this old ribbon of concrete.

A few things have changed over the years. Yes, there are still senior citizens driving around with their blinkers on and truckers doing 85 mph on your tail. That part is still the same. What struck me the most was the flavor of the billboards along the side of the road.

I remember those benign (and annoying) signs for Stuckey's..... "8 Miles Ahead" or Howard Johnson's.... "AAA approved". Although those signs seemed to be everywhere back then, they were essentially harmless. During this drive up from Florida however, we were bombarded with signs touting "No Scapel Vasectomies" and "Porn Superstores." The Coppertone Girl has been replaced by scantily clad XXX models. I even saw one billboard cleverly advertising "Lookout Mountains" as the come-on to their porn shop.

I am no prude, mind you. But really. Do we have to have these signs all along the highways?

By far however, the most prolific ads were for personal injury attorneys. They were everywhere. Here is a short list of the best 'easy to remember' phone numbers in case I am in an accident:

1-800-GET-LAWS
1-800-BIG-CASH
1-800-THE-JURY
1-800-TELLU$$

and my personal favorite:

1-800-KA-CHING

I am thinking that a fair number of accidents are caused by people reading those annoying signs and not paying attention to the road. Probably a potential lawsuit in there somewhere.

Anyway, we are scheduled to make our next trip in a month or two. The plan is to cross Florida at Lake Okeechobee and head out into the Atlantic Ocean on our way to the Abacos. The Abacos are part of the Bahamas chain of islands and are the closest to the US mainland. Only 50 miles east of Palm Beach, the Abacos are a wonderful way for us to get our feet wet as we explore the islands outside the United States. We are very excited about this upcoming trip and already wishing we could leave tomorrow.

2011-03-11T16:35:00.001-05:00

We left the crystal clear waters of the Florida Keys behind and started our way back north. The "Season" as they call it down here is on the wane. The snowbirds, having had their fill of tequila and hubris, are making their way back to the thawing permafrost of middle America.

We left Marathon a little before the rush. Having some work to do on our teak railings, we needed access to shorepower and city water to complete the task. The plan was to take a slip in Marco Island for two weeks where we could take our time and finish the job right.

The trip up from Marathon is usually a two day affair.  We were in no hurry and wanted to check out some of the local flora and fauna, so we did it in three. First stop was the Little Shark River. Ideally situated halfway between the Keys and the Mainland, Little Shark is in the middle of a mangrove patch, a long way from nowhere.  There were no bars of any kind. No cell phones bars, no internet bars, no beer on tap. That was okay though. It was good to get back to nature and just bask in her enormity.

So we pulled into the anchorage around 2 o'clock and enjoyed the lapping of the waves against the hull and the callings of innumerable birds. By three o'clock we were into our first beer and by four we were looking at our now depleted cache of videos wondering what were we going to do for the next 18 hours? We decided to watch a horrible movie called "The Dog Problem" (it went straight to video) and pray that we fell asleep by nine.

The next night was a little better. We were anchored just outside of Everglades City. It is the last outpost of civilization before one makes the crossing from the west coast of Florida, across the swaps to Miami. We knew there was life there as all day long, a steady stream of fishing boats came in and out of the pass that leads to the city. Our plan was to go and visit the very famous Rod and Gun club for dinner. A mecca for sportsmen, the Rod and Gun Club has been around for almost 100 years. Big game fisherman make the pilgrimage at least once in their lives to pay their respects (and high prices) to those anglers who have come before. The place looks like a TGIFridays, but instead of license plates on the wall, they have giant dead fish. Anyway, we didn't make it in. The winds were so high that day that we couldn't get the dinghy in the water. It was a four mile run from the anchorage to the restaurant, so we would have been drenched on arrival anyway. So, discretion being the better part of valor, we ate cereal for dinner that night.

The next day we triumphantly made it into Marco Island. From about 15 miles away, we could begin to see the gleaming white towers of condos off in the distance. Like magic, our cells phones and air card came back to life and we were once again among the living. Or so we thought.

Marco Island can best be described as a haven for the over 80's crowd. I have never seen so many senior citizens in one place in my life (and Kim worked in a retirement community)! The restaurants are like a funeral home with bar service. The giant screen TV's behind the bar don't show the big games. They show Wheel of Fortune. If an ambulance with sirens blaring passes outside, you can hear the patrons whispering..."I bet thats Maury. He didn't get his flu shot." It was going to be a long two weeks.

So while we busied ourselves with the teak project, we also got accustomed to life in Marco... or 'Shuffleboard City' as I called it. They have a lot of rules down here... and a lot of people watching that you don't break any of them. Our grocery store in Ohio has an express line for those who have 20 items or less. The stores down here cap their item count at 10. So unknowingly, I got in line with a few too many items. Well a hush came over the store. All you could hear was the hum of Musak and pacemakers. Then came the stares. Not the furtive glances we give up in Ohio. These were the stink eye, in your face, if looks could kill stares. And they were all looking at me.

At first I didn't know what was going on, but I knew something was amiss.  I looked around thinking that maybe "Maury" had come back to life and was seen over in the incontinence aisle. It seemed though, they were all looking at me. At first I felt pretty cool. Here is a reasonably young guy, in fairly good health, visiting their local establishment. I must have looked out of place to them. Maybe they were just trying to remember when they were in their prime and Ike was president. Who knows. But they were definitely looking my way.

Finally it was my turn to "check out" (by the way, they don't use that term in the grocery stores in Marco...its too close to home.)  As I unloaded my cart, the checkout lady advised me of my blunder. Aha! That was it. It was me...over the limit. Well, I apologized the best I could noting to her that I was from Out Of Town and didn't know any better. She didn't care. I think the 'incident' livened up her usual dull shift.

Anyway, as I left I could hear the old farts whispering among themselves and looking at me. In a final act of defiance though, I exited through the entrance doors and didn't return my cart! Maury would have dropped dead on the spot!

.

2011-03-02T18:43:00.002-05:00

One of the favorite things we do on the boat, almost every day is enjoy 'happy hour'. I am not sure who coined that phrase or exactly what it means. For us, this time doesn't make us any happier, as we are generally in good moods anyway. And, lord knows our sessions normally last much longer than one hour, however for the sake of clarity and to keep with social colloquialisms, we will refer to our afternoon respites as HH.

Here in the Florida Keys, there seems to be this fascination with the daily sunsets. Admittedly they are beautiful. The cloudless sky and aqua blue waters coupled with the setting sun does make for spectacular vistas. The local custom around here though is to set your watch (who am I kidding... no one wears a watch around here...) so that when the sun is coming down on the horizon, you drop whatever you are doing and race out to watch the last vestiges of the vesper light. As though they are paying tribute to the sun god Ra, locals blow their conch horns the instant the sun touches the horizon. Some say that if you watch carefully you can see a green flash as the sun and earth meet in the final stages of daylight.

I haven't quite gotten onboard with this local custom. When I hear the daily conch horns blowing, it generally means that I am about halfway through the evening's bottle of wine. That whole thing about the green flash I think is just folklore. I think half the population down here is suffering recurring bad trips from acid they did back in the 60's, but who really knows. I have never seen this elusive flash, but I have made myself available to it.

So every afternoon when the shadows grow long, we meander up to the flybridge where our daily ritual begins. We set up our little nest, complete with the RDA of wine, cheese and olives (I checked with my doctor. He said daily glasses of wine are actually heart healthy!) and wait for the horn blowers to start their rackets. The cacophony begins as the bottom arc of the sun touches the surface of the water. Within seconds, the groundswell of conch blowers grows to a fevered pitch. The noise is almost deafening. For almost a full minute they celebrate the end of the day....or in my case the midpoint of HH.

So in the spirit of local customs, I am trying to convince Kim to join me in starting a new tradition here in Boot Key Harbor. We have found ourselves getting up much earlier in the morning than we did back in Ohio. (I think it is mostly a function of going to bed at nine p.m. as almost everyone does around here.) My thought was that we should also celebrate the beginning of the day with a ceremonial blowing of the air horn.... no conch shells for me, thank you. Precisely at first light, I want for everyone to go outside and make some noise. If someone doesn't have an air horn they can use the ship's horn (or the horn on their car if they slept there overnight). It doesn't matter what is used as long as its noisy.

Kim was doubtful that this 'new tradition' would gain much traction. As a matter of fact, she informed me that if she heard our air horn making any noise at all, she would start her own tradition. She said it would be called 'unhappy hour' and like our afternoon ritual, it would be daily and last often longer than one hour.

I thought you might enjoy a short film of the views from our mooring here in Marathon. Just click on the link to see a short clip of the surrounding area.

2011-02-20T16:39:00.000-05:00

Well, we have definitely found life in the slow lane. And, surprisingly we love it.

We are located on a mooring ball in Boot Key Harbor right in the middle of Marathon, FL, part of the Florida Keys. This is quite an interesting place, this marina we are staying in. It reminds me a lot of the intergalatic bar scene in the movie "Star Wars." I know Kim has never seen that movie (and if she can help it, never will). However about halfway through the film there is this snippet where the characters all convene in this bar for a drink. The bar was filled with all kinds of aliens and species from all over the galaxy. In the movie, everyone was non plussed about the fact that the person next to them might have four heads or six sets of eyes or whatever. The bar was simply a meeting place for stargazed voyagers and beyond that, not much mattered.

Here in the Harbor, there is a lot of that same sentiment. Boatwise, there is everything from multimillion dollar yachts to floating derelects. Peoplewise there are sailors from every walk of life. There are multimillionaires and those barely squeaking by on social security. The great thing about this is that nobody cares. Everyone down here is doing their own thing and supremely laid back.

Our day starts about 0730 when we get up and read the paper (on the internet) and have breakfast out on our back 'patio'. I have noticed that since here, we are eating more 'fat' food than we did back in Ohio. Pop tarts or leftover Key Lime pie seems to sneak into our meal plans anymore. Good news is that we have lost weight since being here, so I guess we are okay on that front.

Promptly at 0900 there is a radio program broadcast over the marine radio channels. It is a moderated - freewheeling account of the days happenings in and around Marathon. New boaters in the marina introduce themselves and those getting ready to leave offer their goodbyes. We are reminded that yoga classes are at 1000 or there is a pickup tennis league at 1100. Today there was a briefing put on by some fellow boaters about making the trip to the Bahamas. Anyone contimplating going was encouraged to attend and those who have been there, generously offered any tips that they might have. Beyond that, there is the crap (I mean craft) group, basketball leagues, walkers and lots of parties. A few weeks ago there was a Super Bowl party held at the main marina building where they had large screen projectors with the game on. There must have been 200 people there, watching the game and enjoying a beer (or two).

So, we sit, glued to our chairs as we hear all about the day's events on the radio. Additionally, part of the program highlights anyone who has anything to buy, sell or trade. Someone looking for help rebuilding a pump (or whatever) can solicit help via this channel. This radio program can also be a bit of a soap opera as some boaters are called out for making minor transgressions of the rules. The highlight thus far was when an amourous young couple was asked to keep their... ummm.....'voices' down as their 'adventures' were making quite a racket at night. As a matter of fact, the boaters in question were moored just down the way from Maya. When I heard what was going on I thought they were watching porn on their TV and had the volume way up. Anyway, this went on for quite a while that night and made great fodder for the radio show the next morning.

After the daily radio show (which last about 30 minutes) we generally putz around the boat. There are always some project that need attention and for the next two hours or so, we look busy. By then, its time for lunch. See? Isn't retirement grand!

After lunch we head to the beach. There is the most perfect beach we have ever seen a short 10 minute dinghy ride from the harbor. The sand is like powder and the views are spectacular. There are lots of palm trees, which I like as I am not a sun lover. Shade on a beach is great for me. This beach is run by the city of Marathon and has first class facilities. From volleyball to cookout shelters, you won't find a better place to enjoy the ocean anywhere.

We generally spend several hours enjoying the sun, sand and refreshments. We are getting to know many of the regulars who also come to the beach everyday. Everyone is so nice.

By 4 o'clock or so, we head back to the 'mothership'. Once back on board Maya, we enjoy happy hour while getting ready for the evening's festivities. Tonight for instance, we are headed out to the movies. Sometimes we meet some other boaters for dinner or drinks or once in awhile we just go to Home Depot or Publix for supplies.

I hate to admit this, but by nine o'clock we are usually tuckered out. There is no TV here in the harbor unless you have a satellite dish. We have one but haven't hooked it up yet. We really haven't missed TV so much and doubt if we ever will connect it. So our ritual of watching the boob tube until we drift off has been replaced by reading a few chapters of a good book or straining our ears to hear the couple making all the noise on the mooring ball down the way.

Anyway, its all good.

2011-02-14T07:58:00.000-05:00

The past several weeks have been just a whirlwind. We have been working on the backlog of boat projects non-stop. On top of that, we moved Maya from her temporary home in Stuart to her winter home in Marathon, FL. What a wonderful trip it was. More on that adventure later.

In the meantime, I wanted to share some photos of Maya's renovation. We were able to, among other things, finally repaint her non-stick areas and she looks great!

Like any good paint job, the most work is put into the preparation of the surfaces. We cleaned and scrubbed like there was no tomorrow. Throw in a little acetone for the removal of any lingering oil or grease (and brain cells.... that stuff is strong) and we were ready to tape it off. I think we must have used a mile of the blue painter's tape, but it was worth the effort. Gone was the faded old blue decking, replaced with a lighter tan that was more in tune with our teak and bimini colors.

After a couple of weeks of boat projects, we were finally happy with Maya's condition. Its been over two years since we bought her and we are now right where we want to be, the exception being the makeover of her fabrics, window treatments and furniture. But hey, that is the admirals department. My job is to keep the boat afloat.

So now, its off to the beach for some much needed R&R.

2011-01-26T08:04:00.001-05:00

We had dinner the other night with our old friends Steve & Diane Koch and new friends Pat & Chuck Berry. Both Defever owners, it shaped up to be a wonderful evening of food, drink and boat stories. Steve & Di live in Stuart on their boat, and Chuck and Pat have been here a long time as well. Both couples knew the area well, and when the decision on where to eat came up, they both zeroed in on the same restaurant.

A sushi bar.

I love sushi and all things seafood. Kim does not. I will eat anything that swims in the sea. Kim will not.

For the entire time we have been married, Kim would not sample, not even nibble anything from the ocean other than fish (cooked). Being from Ohio doesn't help as the seafood we get isn't exactly fresh. My guess is that the most popular 'pescado' dish eaten in our neck of the woods is the Filet o Fish from McDonald's. (BTW, the filet o fish and the hash browns are the exact same food item. They simply add tartar sauce and cheese to make it a 'fish' sandwich.) Now that we are boaters and will be near the water, there is a whole new world of seafood delicacies awaiting us.

So when Kim found out we were headed for sushi, she kinda wilted. Always a good sport, she didn't say, "let's go somewhere else" or "I hate sushi", but rather "sure, why not?" Usually she can find some kind of food alternative when we get into a situation like this, but that night, my intuition told me otherwise.

The group decided to get the house specialty, the sushi 'boat'. I must say that is was beautiful. It was arguably the best seafood display I have ever seen and boy did it taste good. Kim did manage to find something else to order, however midway through the meal something magical happened.

I don't know if it was the wine, our table mates or the "new" Kim in charge, but she decided to take a whack at some of the sushi items. I am not just talking California rolls here. She was trying octopus and crab. I think I even saw her take a bite of her long time nemesis, shrimp!

I wish that I could report to you that she loved all of the things she tried and that a whole new world of restaurant choices was now open to us. Such was not to be the case. She really didn't like anything she tried. But hey, this whole cruising thing is about trying new things and Kim started things off with a bang.

A few days later we swung by the Golden Arches for a quick breakfast. As Kim dived into the hash browns, I couldn't help but smile.

.

2011-01-09T15:09:00.000-05:00

When I was younger, I like reading about Greek Mythology. All those tragic heroes were interesting to me. I often wondered how those folks managed to get themselves into so much trouble and why the punishment for their infractions was so swift and severe.

My favorite character was Sisyphus. Sisyphus was a bad dude. His crimes included murder, incest, avarice and deceitfulness. Interestingly enough however was that his eventual punishment was for hubris against the gods and not for the other awful things he did. The thing that most people remember about Sisyphus however was his punishment. For eternity, he was sentenced to roll a huge rock up to the top of a mountain, only to have it roll back to the bottom before he could ever complete his task. Talk about your exercises in futility!

In some ways, I think that Poseidon, the god of the seas, is looking down on us from the Pantheon, delivering his own brand of 21st. century discipline to boat owners around the globe. What is that punishment you ask?

Any boat owner can tell you without missing a beat that the punishment I speak of is cleaning. Like Sisyphus, we have been relegated to spend the better part of whatever 'boating years' we have to scrubbing, polishing and shining our ships. It never ends. Once we have gotten the boat all spiffed up, the process starts over again. Round and round the hull we go, endlessly removing dirt and grime and salt and filth.

To add insult to injury, Poseidon has hackled us with no ordinary dirt. No, the scum that we must deal with won't come off with ordinary soap and soft rags. The super race of mold and mildew boaters face is unlike that of mere mortals. It is industrial strength.

A few weeks ago, Kim decided to tackle a job that we have both been dreading. It seems that our fenders have seen better days and the time had come to bring them back to new life. I don't know exactly what had overtaken their once resplendent luster, but the fenders were now stained in an ugly gray brown hue that refused to come off.

We tried every cleaner, polish and soap known to man. We had Comet, SOS pads and even steel wool at work on these bad boys at one point. After several hours on just one fender, Kim achieved moderate success. However, the price was high and her determination was low. We still had three or four more to go and I could see the energy waning from her soul.

Ah, Sisyphus. How did you survive?

An hour or so later, I noticed Kim on the computer. She was busy looking up prices for new fenders. A few clicks of the mouse later, she was free from the bondage of fender duty as four new fenders were on their way to us. I can't say that I blame her. Those fenders were nasty. This isn't something that we would normally do, nonetheless, it did feel good to drop the old guys in the dumpster. It felt like we were cheating the gods.

Then I remembered back to my friend Sisyphus. His punishment was for hubris.

I can't imagine what Poseidon has in store for us now.

2010-12-14T13:00:00.006-05:00

I took the plunge. For years I have been talking about getting my SCUBA certification and last week I finally did something about it.

The main reason I wanted to do this was so I wouldn't have to pay a diver to clean the bottom of our boat every month or so. Lots of barnacles and 'junk' accumulate on your bottom and if you don't get them off, it can affect your boat's performance. The cost of the course was equal to about two cleanings, so I thought this experience would pay for itself in a few months.

The dive shop where I would be taking the classes sent me a very large package in the mail with all the course materials inside. It also contained several DVD's and workbooks we were to complete before the training began. All in all, I spent about a week going over everything. The course itself was a three day classroom/pool event. We went over the course material one more time and then headed to the pool for some hands on training.

There were five of us in the course: three 20 something year olds from south Florida and two fifty-ish guys from Ohio.

We met on a Friday afternoon, the first of three days of 'scuba' immersion. The first thing the instructor asked was whether we had watched the videos and completed the materials. The two senior citizens of course had done everything. The young turks hadn't even taken the plastic off the books yet. Sipping his Red Bull, youth #1 asked if the test at the end was a 'take-home'. It was.

The ads for the course highlighted that everything was included. Instructors, pool time and open water certification were all part of the price. What wasn't included was any equipment needed to actually dive after you completed the course. For that, I found out, one would pay dearly. The dive shop did provide some rental gear if you wanted, however I didn't relish the thought of putting a regulator in my mouth that had been previously used by another customer.

Of course, you could buy all you needed right there. It was all on sale. I had no idea you needed so much stuff just to go underwater. Here is a what a basic diver needs to have before he jumps in.

These are just the basics, mind you. When it comes to the water, the sky is the limit.

I bought the bare minimum I needed to complete the course and get my certification. I figured I could always add things later on after I had a feel for what was really necessary. Even so, I was going to have to clean the bottom of Maya many many times in order to break even.

The in-water portion of the training was a real blast. We started off with the fitness test which consisted of swimming 16 laps of the pool and then treading water for 5 minutes. Old guys smoked the young guys (who probably smoke too much). After that, we practiced using our equipment, getting used to the fit and feel. It was all very cool.

The next three days consisted of practicing emergency procedures, equipment malfunctions and diving techniques. At the end, I really did feel confident and prepared to tackle this new hobby. Our instructor constantly reminded us that our certification was only a 'license to learn' and that we only knew enough now to not kill ourselves in the water. As Clint Eastwood would say, "a man has to know his limitations."

The last day as we were packing up our gear, one of the young turks asked me if I wanted to race him and his buddies in a few laps of the pool (apparently they were hung-over the first day and were a little embarrassed at their performances).

In my best 'Clint' voice I responded.... "sure". "Are you feeling lucky? .... punk."

They didn't get it. I am not sure that they even know who Clint Eastwood is and I would bet that they have never seen a Dirty Harry movie (and hence didn't recognize his famous quote or my wonderful impersonation). What they do know however is that the second thrashing I gave them, "Made my day."

.

2010-07-25T17:11:00.000-04:00

When I was in college, I did my fair share of bar hopping. It wasn't unusual to go to three or four bars in one night, taking in the 'ambiance' of spilled beer and sloppy drunks. To make the evening a success, all I needed was a pitcher (or two) of beer and a good supply of quarters. Happily those days are behind me now as I would much rather spend the evening in one spot, quietly contemplating the finer points of the local cuisine while sharing a bottle of wine with 'The Admiral.'

Okay, so I will admit it right off the bat. I am boring. There. I said it. Give me a comfortable place to sit for the evening and I am happy as a clam. I don't need to work the room anymore. I hate being in a place where you have to shout to be heard and where everyone there is so much younger that you look like you are visiting your college kids during Parents Weekend. Its quality over quantity for me. I can nurse a 10 year old Pinot all night long and never get up once.

That being said, a significant amount of our 'on shore' boating experiences have either begun or ended at a local establishment. I am not sure why that is so. I would like to think that when we first arrive on the scene, a quick drink gives us a chance to chat up the bartender a little so we can find out if anything is happening in town. Maybe we are just thirsty from all the work of dinghying ashore. Who knows?

Anyway, we go to a few bars now and then. Who cares right? We are old enough.

There is just one small problem.... and its with me. I have started this slightly strange habit of photographing our food and drink. I know its weird. I know its embarrassing. Kim doesn't particularly like it either as flashbulbs going off inside a quiet and darkened bar seems to draw attention to us. But, I like it anyway.

I think this all started when I was flying the international routes at Delta Air Lines. We went to a lot of pubs/bars/cantinas/beer-gardens back then and I wanted to share the experience with those back home. Every bar had its own personality. Unlike the places we have in the States, European bars have a lot of character. Visitors can get away with almost anything over there. You can do the dorkiest things and the locals will just look the other way and mutter to themselves, "toursits!" I routinely would take a few shots (photos) at every place we visited and now have a pretty good collection of my favorite hot spots.

So, we are in Saint Augustine and we stumbled upon the neatest place. It was styled as a Spanish Tapas bar but decorated in early Ernest Hemingway. Sort of Antonio Banderas meets Old Florida. I thought it was really neat, as did Kim. On top of that, it was 100 degrees outside and they had the a/c on full blast. It was heaven to be inside.

We could sit anywhere we like as the place was deserted. It had just opened for the evening and we were the first to arrive. I immediately saw these huge overstuffed couches that ringed the lounge area. Those soft cushions had my name all over them. I was going to settle in for the long haul at this place.

They had a terrific wine list, lots of imported and local brews and a menu that was out of this world. On top of that, they had live music scheduled for later in the evening. It doesn't get any better than that. So we worked our way down the menu ordering a little of this and a little of that. Being a tapas bar, it was set up for little portions meant to be shared. Perfect.

So the server starts bringing out all this wonderful stuff and I can't help myself but whip out my camera and take a few shots with every new dish. Each plate was more interesting than the last. The colors were vibrant. The presentation was a work of art and the taste... well you'll have to take my word for that. I am not sure what they were thinking back in the kitchen. Was I a food critic? .... an author researching his next cook book? ... a chef, scoping out the local competition? They didn't know. All they could tell was that there was a strange person out there, taking lots of photos of the food.

We spent three or four hours there that night and I must have rolled off about 30 pictures. I was like 'Rainman' with that camera. No crouton got off digitally uncaptured. Finally Kim told me to knock it off as I was becoming a pest. Enough was enough.

"One more picture," I said.

"Tourists!".... must have thought the waiter.

2010-07-07T11:26:00.001-04:00

There is the old adage that says there are "those who have and those who will". Now I know that saying can apply to a lot of circumstances however in the boating world, it concerns running your boat aground.

Up until last week, we were part of the group that "will". Unfortunately now, we are part of the group that 'have'. Yes, I am here to say that we ran our boat up onto a sand bar in Saint Augustine harbor.

We were having a wonderful day cruising from Palm Coast northbound towards Saint Augustine. The plan was to spend a day or so there, taking in the sights and enjoying the oldest city in America. We made it to the anchorage that is just off the city's sea wall and were looking for a place to drop anchor. There are a lot of boats parked here as it is a popular place to go.

We found what seemed like a good spot: not too close to the other boats, but close in enough to the dinghy dock that we didn't have to trek a mile or so to get there. Anyway, we were getting set to drop the anchor when at the last minute, we had a small problem with the chain tackle. (one of the bridles was stuck). I ran down to the engine room to get a tool to fix it and by the time I got back up on deck, the current had moved us a little closer to the boat parked next to us.

Not wanting to be elbow to elbow with our neighbor, we put the boat in gear and swung around to get back to where we were. Now the navigation instruments told us we were in 13 feet of water, and that is a lot for us. We have two of these gizmos and they both said the same thing. However, in the short time we were moving the boat, the depth went from 13 feet to 3 feet and the next thing I knew, we were not moving anymore.

Astonished, I checked out the depth finders and they confirmed my worst fear. We were stuck.

I am not really sure how we went from 13 feet to 3 in such a short distance, but we did. Apparently the harbor has a lot of bars hidden here and there and we caught one. Okay, so it is no big deal. Besides our pride, there wasn't any damage done. The key was not to make a bad situation any worse. How do you do that? Well, many boat pilots might try to power their way off the sand bar. Not knowing exactly what you are caught on or how far forward it extends makes this a bad idea. Other pilots will try and go backwards (from whence they came) and while this is a plausible game plan, you really don't know how far up on the bar you are and you certainly don't want to damage the props or rudders.

The safest and least expensive way to go is to determine if you are at low to mid tide and simply wait for high tide to lift you off the obstruction. This was certainly an option for us except it was hot out and we wanted to get into town as soon as possible. Option two is to pick up the radio and call for help.... which is what we did.

In the boating world, there are a couple of "Triple A" type organizations that will come out and help you in these situations. They are really great to have. If you run aground, run out of gas or your engines simply quit working, they will come out and tow you back to safety. One tenth of a boat unit a year is cheap insurance in my mind. Anyway, we have always subscribed to this service but have never used it. I thought now might be a good time to cash in on our annual benefit.

So I picked up the radio and gave them a call. I told them what had happened and where we were located. They said they would be there in 20 minutes and they were. After a bit of paperwork and some small talk, the rescue boat operator tied one end of a line to one of Maya's stern cleats and attached the other end to his boat. A few minutes of soft backwards pulling and we were off the bar.

The guy was very nice and he took great care of our boat and our egos. Neither was damaged beyond repair.

In some ways this was another rite of passage for us. No longer newbies, I think we can safely say now that we are part of the ones that 'have'.

2010-06-02T11:23:00.006-04:00

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Well its great to be back after our short hiatus. Kim and I have been celebrating our 25th Anniversary and haven't been aboard Maya in a month or so. That is all about to change as we are planning our very first 'fun' cruise next month.

In the past, most of our cruises have been 'work' cruises. We were either positioning Maya further south or doing some kind of chore while aboard. Other than a cocktail or two in the evenings, we weren't doing all the fun things that you can do while cruising.

Our itinerary includes a trip up to Cumberland Island, Georgia. Cumberland Island is one of the largest uninhabited islands in the United States. It is a National Park as well. Located just at the boarder of Florida and Georgia, its a one and half day cruise from Palm Coast.

We are looking forward to this trip because for the most part, we will be outside the cozy confines of the Intercoastal Waterway and out on the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. By going this way, we eliminate
much of the hassles of dealing with bridges and 'no wake' zones that dot the inland route. Besides that, on the way down, we saw lots of areas that were pretty shallow (depth wise). We don't want to mess up our perfect record of not hitting the bottom! Anyway, an offshore excursion is an excellent way to miss all of that trouble.

Our boat was designed to cruise out in the open water and this will give us a chance to really give her a workout.
We have only been offshore twice and we want to do it again. No worries though, we will always be in sight of land and if something bad were to happen, Kim could swim to shore and get help.

Last week, my dad and I flew down to Orlando and drove over to visit Maya for two days. I had a project I wanted to complete and dad offered to tag along. While we were there, we took Maya out for a short spin. During that trip, we noticed another vibration coming from below. Like before, it was more pronounced at higher RPM's, indicating that there was some kind of obstruction on the propellers or running gear.

My guess is that we have a major build up of barnacles on the props. Here is a shot of what I expect to find when I go have a look next month. Most likely we will hire a diver to go down and clean that stuff off. My last jelly fish adventure has me a little gun shy right now. However, this fall I am headed south to the Keys to get my Scuba certification and will be able to keep the bottom clean all by myself. Woohoo!

2010-04-10T11:12:00.000-04:00

I will be upfront with you. Watching television on the boat flies in the face of what cruising is all about. Sitting around watching the 'boob tube' is not my idea of having a grand time on the high seas. That being said, there are times when it is nice to be connected to the outside world. For instance, I was mildy curious about Tiger's coterie of non-golf friends. I also took an interest in the NCAA Final Four.

So, for the sake of current events and our ability to converse intelligently with those on the outside world, I thought it prudent to hook up the long range TV antenna Kim's mom Ginny got us for Christmas. With it we are able to access TV stations from over 50 miles away. Made especially for boats, (overpriced) it is guaranteed to greatly enhance your ability to waste time in front of your onboard TVs.

Last week, I conned my dad into flying down with me to the boat. His last adventure was not that hot (it was very cold) and we didn't get to do much fun stuff. I told him that I had a few minor projects to complete and that his help would make things much easier. After that, we would be taking Maya for a spin to shake out some the cobwebs from her systems. "Sign me up!" he cheerily said.

The antenna project was a real knuckle buster. We had to run coaxial and electrical lines through narrow conduits inside Maya's structure. With the help of an electrician's fish tape and a lot of spilled blood, we were able to finish the project in a day. Here is a picture of Dad enjoying himself on Maya.

It was touch and go there for a little while as Dad tried to get himself out of the tight space he had crawled into. I was ready to call the paramedics and their 'jaws of life' to extricate him, but with a little pulling and tugging he made it out of there unscathed.

The next day we took Maya out for a test run. I had done some work on the engines and transmissions and wanted to give them a workout. It was the perfect day for boating and Dad enjoyed himself immensely. I did too. We were also able to take the dinghy out for a spin. That little boat is so much fun. Luckily we joined up with a school of dolphins who were out for a spin as well. They were close enough for us to literally touch. After following them for an hour or so, it was time to return to Maya.

We tested out the new antenna that night watching back to back episodes of "24" and the best NCAA 'final two' basketball game I have ever seen. It all worked great! What a treat it was spending time with Dad. I promised him that the next trip would be all fun and no work. I don't think he cared though. He's a tough cookie!

2010-03-16T21:20:00.005-04:00

Someone told me once that women are not female men. Truer words have never been spoken. Having been married one month short of twenty five years, I feel I have earned the right to speak on the issue. Knowing in advance the consequences of such actions, I nonetheless feel the need to vent.

Since we bought Maya about 18 months ago, we have been spending a fair amount of time cleaning, repairing and outfitting her. Much of the effort has been focused on the engine room - the heart and soul of the ship. Lets face it, if we can't get her off the dock, boating isn't going to be very much fun. With that in mind, my contribution has been mostly mechanical in nature. I've been down there sweating and bleeding, covered from head to toe with all kinds of fluids. From hoses to filters, from batteries to switches and from wiring to pumps, I have contributed a lot of sweat equity to this adventure. While it has been a labor of love, it also has been a lot of work. Knock on wood, we are coming down the home stretch on the mechanical rehabilitation of Maya. It is my hope that in the future there will be more fun and less toil.

In my mind, the mechanical aspect of running the boat is by far the most important issue we have to deal with. Since that part is just about behind us, I am ready to roll. Anything else that needs done can wait for awhile.

Not so fast. Since we have now completed the preliminary phase of boat ownership, it is time, I have been told, to move on to the secondary phase.

Decorating.

I have to be honest with you. I do not understand a woman's need to decorate, redecorate, update and remodel. It makes no sense to me. When we purchased Maya, she was in great shape. The previous owners had done a marvelous job with 'redecorating' and had just completed their project shortly before we signed the check. Why we need to redo what they just redid is beyond me. But after 25 years of wedded bliss, I should know better than to ask questions like this.

First up is the curtains.... or should I say 'window treatments.' Kim has had me hang lots of drapes over the years and I still cannot understand why they are now called 'window treatments'. When did that happen?

So anyway, on my last visit to Maya, I had to remove the old 'treatments', count their pleats, measure their height and width and then pack a sample from each cabin and bring them back home to Ohio. I have been told that we need to do this in order to properly match the colors on the walls with the other fabrics throughout the boat.... fabrics which, no doubt are also going to be replaced.

Second up is the bedspread, although it is not called a "bedspread" anymore. It now goes by one of several updated names such as "Comforter" ... "Duvet cover" ... "Coverlets" and "Quilts." It must be 'accessorized' with one or more "shams" "dust ruffles" and "decorative pillows". Coordination with all other aspects of color is the goal.

Kim dragged me a local department store a few weeks ago to look at possible alternatives. "What do you think about the mauve?" she asked me.

"The what?" I asked.

"The mauve one. Don't you know what that is?"

Just for the record, men can identify six or seven basic colors. Red, blue, yellow, green, brown, purple, black and white are the colors in my world. Mauve is not one of them.

So, in the interest of brevity, I said I liked the 'mauve', hoping to end the tortuous shopping trip as soon as humanly possible. But it was not to be. After a few seconds, Kim decided she didn't like the mauve either and we moved on. Up and down the rainbow we went that day. I learned about colors I didn't know existed.... and I read the newspaper everyday!

Here is a partial list of my new favorites:

Cinnabar (red)
Fuscous (brown)
Heliotrope (purple)
Ochre (light brown)
Periwinkle (blue)
Primrose (yellow)
Umber (red)

In the end, we did buy something. I am not sure if it is a coverlet or a duvet though. I also don't know what color is it, although it looks light brown to me. What I do know is that I hate shopping for fabrics and would give anything to not do it again. I feel though that this is just the beginning. We have many more rooms to go. I am cyan just thinking about it.

2010-03-04T17:24:00.001-05:00

I should know by now that you get what you pay for. I have
been burned enough over the years that you would think that lesson would have sunk in. What must be happening is that when I see a good deal, the dollar signs that are floating around my eyes cloud the judgement part of my brain, thus rendering me unable to think clearly.

Such was the case with our new teak table and chair set..... the one I drove 900 miles one way from Cincinnati down to the boat.

As deals go, this was a goody! Teak is not cheap. It is weather proof and lasts forever. The table and chairs were the perfect complement to the teak floors and cabinetry we have virtually all over Maya. We bought this set at a local 'close-out' warehouse type store and were able to save nearly one boat unit over the prices on the internet.

When we saw it on display in the store, I became giddy with the prospect of another great deal coming our way. It wasn't until we began to load our car with our newfound loot that the seeds of remorse were sown. Two familiar phrases were emblazoned all over the packaging; phrases that put the fear of God into deal chasers like me.

"Made in China" ...... and ...... "Some assembly required"

Confucius says to "Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes". Perhaps they should have printed that on the packaging too. If they had, I probably would have turned around and taken the entire set back into the store for a refund, because as I stood there loading my car, that little voice I tend to ignore with great peril (no, not Kim's..... the other voice) was telling me that this wasn't going to turn out good. My past experience with imports that needed assembly have without exception, ended in disaster.

So if truth is the first casualty of war it might follow that pride is the first casualty of marriage. I spent the drive home from the store extolling to Kim, the virtues of our new furniture. She, being the smart one, had her radar on from the git-go. "Let's look at this a little closer before we buy it," was her advice.

"While you are looking closer" I told her, "I am going to go look for someone to help us out to the car with this."
With those few spoken words, I had just taken ownership of the table and chairs. If any problems concerning the purchase came up in the future, it would be on my head.

So flash forward to our current location in Florida. The moment had arrived when I would take the old worn aluminum table and chairs over to Goodwill and majestically replace them with my 'deal of the century'. As I sat down to ponder the instructions and sort through the various nuts and bolts, it dawned on me that there was something missing.....namely assembly instructions.

Well, I guess I should correct that by saying there were no instructions that were in English. There was this sheet of paper that I am guessing described what to do with the 60 odd nuts, bolts and screws that were in a pile at my feet but unfortunately it was printed in Chinese.

I wasn't as concerned about putting the puzzle together as I was seeing the look on Kim's face if this thing didn't piece together just right. I knew that if I didn't make this work, I would never hear the end of it. If the legs of the table were wobbly or the chairs were squeaky, it would forever be my baby. So there I sat for the next three hours, trying different combinations of screws and bolts with chair arms and table feet. It must have been amusing to watch as the older couple in the next house down came out with their evening cocktails to enjoy the show.

"How's it going there young fella!" they called down once or twice. "Fine, just fine," I replied.

Eventually it all came together and I must say it looks rather nice. While it took a bit longer to assemble than I had anticipated, I am quite proud of the job. Whenever you come down to the boat and sit in one of the chairs, make sure you ask me to tell you the story of how we got this great deal on the set. I would be happy to tell you all about it. Although Confucius tells us that "real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance" I will probably be right there the next time I hear about a big sale on Chinese imports.

2010-02-18T15:16:00.004-05:00

I am not big on junk. I hate clutter. A long time ago I read somewhere that if you haven't used something in a year, you should throw it away. I agree with that for the most part except when it comes to clothes. I have some t-shirts that are-no kidding- over twenty years old. There is one in particular that has been through the washer so many times, you can actually see through it.

Next week, I am driving my car from Cincy to Palm Coast, Florida to deliver a bunch of junk to Maya. (Well, not all of it is junk) This is all the stuff that we were unable to get onto the airplane for some reason or another. Too big, too bulky, too heavy. Whatever.

Over the past year or so, all of this junk has been accumulating in our basement, waiting for its chance to make it onboard Maya. Much of it is stuff we really don't need. For instance, we have cold cups. You know what they are. They are those spongy beer holders used to keep the suds from getting too warm before you drink it. We must have two dozen cold cups here in our house right now and I would wager that there are probably a dozen on Maya already. I cannot tell you the last time I even used one. It has to have been years.

I asked Kim why I am taking cold cups down to Maya. "Well" she said, "the ones down there aren't ours."

"They came with the boat when we bought it, so I think they're ours," I responded.

"They were used by somebody else, and sometimes its just better to start over with new things" she said. "Its like a toilet seat. There are some items you just replace no matter what."

"You just don't get it, do you?"

I guess I don't. But who am I to argue over something as silly as a foam cup holder. (I was going to mention to her that we still have the same toilet seats, but I figured that replacing them would just be another job for me to do so I kept quiet.)

There are still more things that I am taking down that could just have easily been purchased in Florida. For instance, towels. Towels take up a lot of room in your suitcase, that I will give you. It really isn't practical to take them on the airplane when traveling as you can only bring so much luggage. Towels have been piling up, ready for transport to Maya for the better part of a year. I know that if you find a good deal on something its fun to buy it now and think about how much you saved later, but does it make sense to drive 900 miles to deliver towels that you saved 5 dollars a piece on?

I am also delivering garbage bags, a fly swatter, knives, bowls, glasses and tongs among other things. To be fair, I am also taking down a rather large teak table and chair set we bought a month or so ago, so I guess the trip is not for naught.

While I am there, I am going to knock out a few projects that I have been putting off. All in all, I should be gone about a week.

I asked Kim if she was going to miss me while I was gone. "A week is a long time you know...."I said. "What are you going to do with all of your time."

"I am going to buy new toilet seats for the boat" she said.

2010-02-03T11:54:00.006-05:00

Sunsets are a wonderful time on the intercoastal waterway. As if on cue, everything around you begins to wind its way down for the evening. The wave action begins its ebb, the wind starts to settle down and the general mood for most boaters takes on a decidedly mellower tone.

To top it off, mother nature provides spectacular displays of light and color with each setting of the sun.

Since we have been out on the water, we have always made it a point to get out and enjoy the waning moments of the day's sunlight. There is nothing quite like a cool refreshment on a warm evening, watching the final moments of the sun's daily journey from the aft deck of our beloved Maya.

We have enjoyed lots of great sunsets since we have been on the boat. While the camera can capture the awesome beauty of the moment, it is hard to describe the sounds and smells that often accompany the falling light of day.

My favorite sound is that of the gentle waves as they slosh up against the side of the boat. Kim likes the sounds fish make when they suddenly jump out of the water, hoping to catch a quick snack out of an unsuspecting insect. Sometimes you can hear faint music from another boater anchored further downstream, as they listen to the sounds of Jimmy Buffet or Bob Marley. The whole thing is a sensory delight.

Unfortunately, this utopian extravaganza brings out the worst of mother nature's annoying imps.

The bugs.

First let me say that I grew up in the woods. We now live in the woods. I am used to bugs. They are mostly an inconvenience up here in Ohio. On the water, they are a menace. Truly.

Here in the midwest, you have a fighting chance at keeping them at bay. For the most part, they are large and and you can see them. They make a noise so you can hear them coming. They are dissuaded from taking a bite out of your flesh with the simplest of repellents and pose no more of a threat than the Cincinnati Bengals in a divisional playoff game.

The bugs on the water are different. They are stealthy and tiny. You can't hear them or see them coming (as a matter of fact, they are referred to as 'no-see-ums'). Your first clue that they have arrived is the sharp pain you feel on an exposed part of your skin as they sink their teeth into your flesh and draw their fill of blood.

There is no escaping their wrath. Trust me, we have tried everything. Every lotion and cream, every spray and insecticide has been employed to deter this invisible menace. We have found nothing that works.

For now though we will have to enjoy our sunsets and then run for the safety of Maya enclosed spaces. Until we find that magic repellent, we will be like the fans at the end of a Bengal's game; looking for something better to do.

2010-01-19T10:43:00.005-05:00

I don't like being cold. Never have. Never will.

Included in this boat experience was the thought that we would leave frigid temperatures behind once and for all. Sure, there might be a time when we would see maybe, perhaps, some morning lows in the 40's, but that would be the extreme. Our last trip showed me how wrong I was.

A few weeks ago, we had another guest sailor onboard Maya. (Tom begged off on this one as it was going to be even colder than our last trip. Smart man.) So this time, my dad joined me. Dad is really great about trying new things. He is in his 70's now, but still as spry and inquisitive as always. It was going to be cold and uncomfortable, but he didn't care. He just wanted to go.

The trip started out in Jacksonville Florida where we were having some work done on Maya. We had new bottom paint applied and addressed several nagging mechanical issues that had popped up over the past few months. It is expensive to haul the boat out of the water so you don't want to do it very often. When you do, you will want to take care of all the maintenance items that require a dry hull all at once. Its best to save up these jobs and do them all at the same time.

The paint they put on the bottom is especially made for boats. That just means that its about 10 times more expensive than regular paint. Anyway, you cannot apply this paint in temperatures below 40 degrees. It won't dry correctly if you do. Because of the coldness in Florida that week, we just had to sit around and wait out the weather. This 5 day job was turning into a 10 day job.

It was neat watching them haul Maya out of the water. Essentially, you maneuver the boat beneath this very large lifting apparatus that has giant canvas straps connected to it. Once everything is in place, they simply lift the boat right out of the water. They then move it to jackstands and blocks where they gently set it down. 44 thousand pounds is a lot to lift and carry, but somehow they made it work.

Eventually the temperatures moderated enough for them to get the paint on and us out. As a business owner, I would think the last thing you would want is to have your customers milling about, pestering your workers all day long. We spent a lot of time asking questions. Unfortunately for them, the questions usually started with the word "When?" The days were tedious. It was like watching paint dry.

Soon enough however, the job was complete and we were on our way. The plan was to take our time and head over to Palm Coast where we had arranged for a slip. We were going to anchor out and enjoy a peaceful and serene two day cruise. When we awoke to temperatures in the teens, we decided to make a one day run for it.

I felt a little bad for Dad as I think he was truly looking forward to spending some time on the boat. It was just too cold though. We spent a marathon day inside the salon helm, taking turns driving and watching the dolphins swim by. By 5 o'clock when we finally reached our destination, we were both ready to be done. Cramming that two day trip into one was a lot of work. I think Dad enjoyed the adventure, nonetheless. On the way home he asked, "when can I go again?" Of course he has a standing invitation to come along anytime he wants.

2010-01-02T12:40:00.006-05:00

We finally made it to the sunshine state. Last week we made the trip from Hilton Head to Jacksonville, Florida where we had Maya pulled from the water for painting. This cruise was a little different because Kim wasn't aboard. She (being the smarter one) had looked at the weather forecasts and had seen that cold temperatures were predicted.

In her place was my old friend Tom. Tom and I used to fly together when I was at Delta Air Lines and have been friends for many years. Since he was a former Navy guy, I figured he would have no problem behind Maya's helm. On top of that, Tom has owned boats in the past and generally knows a lot about everything.

As smart as he is, I don't think he checked the temperature forecasts either because if he had, we never would have left the dock in Hilton Head. It was cold!

Maya has a great heating system which consists primarily of two giant iron diesel engines that when run all day long, produce copious amounts of heat. Just leave the engine room door open and you essentially have two big pot belly stoves throwing out all kinds of warmth. We also have a heat pump system that is designed to take the chill off for short periods of time, but you have to have the generator running for it to work.

The first evening out at anchor wasn't too bad. We were out in the middle of the Georgia marshes, miles from anyone. Sometimes being isolated is good. You get to enjoy the gifts nature has to offer all by yourself. Sometimes isolated is bad. At some point you find yourself asking, "are we the only ones dumb enough to be out here?" This time, isolated was bad.

As the evening wore on, the temperature slowly dropped. The twin diesels were cooling off and the free heat we were getting was waning. The forecasts called (yes, we finally came to the party and checked it out) for lows around 30. This was way too cold to be out boating.

Fortunately for me, Tom is also an expert bartender. I am not sure if his is a hobby or a passion, but he can make some mean drinks. The gallon of dark rum that we had onboard went to good use those nights out on the ICW. I am not sure if it made us any warmer or just numbed us from the cold, but it seemed to make things better.

After three days on our near polar expedition, we arrived in Jacksonville. We pulled up to the city docks where they have free overnight parking and a wealth of restaurants and shoppes to enjoy. We headed straight for the nearest pub where they had warm temperatures and cold beer inside.

I asked Tom what it was like on Navy ships when they had cold snaps like this. He said, "I don't know.... I was never on a ship while I was in the Navy. I was stationed in Hawaii the whole time and flew from the Navy air base there." "Never on a ship, really?" I asked. "How did you get so good at driving boats?"

"Trial and error, I guess" he said. "Hey" he said. "Did I ever show you a picture of my last boat?"

"No, I don't think you ever have" I said.

"Here, have a look" he said with a grin.

2009-12-10T16:40:00.007-05:00

Since the day we closed the deal on Maya, there have been two issues that have been at the back of my mind and of great bother to me.

Taxes and registration.

Without going into all of the legal mumbo jumbo, buying a boat out of state and moving it from jurisdiction to jurisdiction brings up all kinds of taxation and registration issues. The laws vary from state to state and there is no clear guidance on whom to pay taxes to or how much. Over the past year, I literally spent weeks on the phone and internet trying to figure out what we should do. I called the tax department in every state we transited as well as those we planned to visit in the future. As you might have guessed, I got different answers from every official I spoke with.

Florida has the most onerous restrictions and since we were going to be there for about a year, I decided that I had better comply with their rules just to be on the safe side. As they say, it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission. With that in mind, I visited the State of Florida department of Taxation and Revenue while down in Naples last week.

Before I go on, I should say for the record that I have the upmost respect and compassion for all of the good folks who work for the state of Florida. Theirs is a thankless job and I certainly would not like to work on their side of the plate glass window, but just once, I would like to be shown the courtesy and consideration customers should receive when they are forking over a large number of boat units.

Whoever designed the offices of the Florida Department of Revenue did not have the customer in mind. The plate glass window I spoke of has a small hole that you must speak through in order to be heard by the agent. This small hole is placed about four feet off the floor, so every time you want to talk you have to bend over, crank your head to one side and loudly state your case. I was wondering what kind of numbskull would devise such a system when it dawned on me that the height of the hole was there for the benefit of the agent. She sits all day and it is at perfect mouth level for her. But I digress.

I think the agent I dealt with knew right away that my situation was not going to be the standard car/license plate transaction they deal with most of the time. I was a non-resident, I had a boat (2 if you count the dinghy), the boat was documented by the U.S. Coast Guard and was bought out of state, there was a long line behind me and it was ten minutes till lunch. The perfect storm.

I thought I would try the 'lost puppy' routine on her to see if I could get past her air of indifference. You know the lost puppy routine. Act like you are totally lost and helpless, smile a lot and beg for any breaks that can be sent your way. This used to work well for me, especially when I was younger. I think now that I am without hair and generally irrelevant, I need to come up with a better schtick. I am not fooling anybody anymore.

I could tell in the first thirty seconds that she was not a dog lover of any kind and could care less about lost puppies, lost kittens or out of state boat owners. Her job was to get rid of me as quickly as possible as the noon hour approached. So much for the lost puppy routine. I decided to go for the more direct approach.

Bending down and leaning to one side, I told her that, "I had been in contact with the Department of Taxation in Tallahassee and they gave me a list of the documentation I needed to process my application for registration and title." I added, "I wanted to be prepared so we can do this as quickly as possible and so I won't waste your time." Raising one eyebrow (her only one as a matter of fact), I could tell immediately that she would be the judge of that.

One by one, she picked off all the documents that I needed. Like a machine, I presented each and every one according to her request, properly filled out and notarized. "Do you have Florida form 2271-A?" she asked? "Yep, right here," I said. "Damn" she must of thought, "this guy is good."

"Do you have a pencil tracing of the registration plate of the dinghy? I will need that you know...." "Of course," I said. As I slid the paper under the glass window, I saw some of the lilt go out of her eyebrow. "So you want to play hardball, do you sonny!" I could imagine her thinking.

But, she couldn't get me. Whatever she wanted, I had it... copies and all. Seventeen pieces of paper flew between the two of us. It was going to be a duel to the finish. She was just about out of cards when she said, "I will need your wife to sign this form. She is here isn't she?" As I swallowed hard and the color drained from my face, I meekly muttered "no." "Well come back when she is with you" was all she said as she closed her window and gave me that wry smile we all know too well.

Luckily Kim was not far away and by the time we got back, lunch was over. The agent had made her point, though. The victory was hers and we both knew it. From there on out, the process went very fast and after writing a boat unit sized check to the Commonwealth of Florida, I left with two yellow stickers the size of a postage stamp. "Make sure you stick these in the appropriate place," was her parting shot.

If only I could.

2009-11-19T16:11:00.004-05:00

For the longest time, we had been planning on getting together with our good friends Steve and Diane Koch. We met them last year at a Defever owner's rendezvous. Steve and Di are, besides being really nice people, experts at anything that has to do with Defevers. Steve and I spent three days down in the engine room where he showed me the finer points of taking care of our Lehman diesels. We cleaned the fuel injectors, reset the valves and installed some extra gauges. Along the way, Steve discovered some suspicious looking hoses and took care of a nagging leak we had back by the rudders.

But by the far the biggest project we tackled though, was replacing the ship's battery bank. As you may remember, Maya has a large cache of batteries that are used to supply our electrical needs while we are at anchor. From the microwave to the TV to the lights and pumps and yes, the blow dryer, the batteries have to have enough juice to make everything work. Like anything else, the batteries have a finite lifespan and ours were near the end of theirs. While we might have been able to squeak out another 6 months to a year on the current ones, with Steve there to help I thought it a good idea to make the change now and not have to worry about it later.

Maya had twelve of these batteries and they were all located down in the engine room. The space down there is a little tight and the batteries are located in a spot that is not easy to get to. Each one of these things weighs about 125 pounds and they are filled with acid. As we were to find out, some of them were leaking. Not good. This was not going to be one of those quick in and quick out 10 minute jobs. It was going to be a backbreaker.

One by one we lifted out the old batteries and hauled them onto the deck. From there we had to lower them onto the dock and get them out to the car where they would be then taken to the store and swapped for a new ones. Twelve bad ones out and 8 good ones in.

Thankfully, Steve had to foresight to ask around the marina and found some eager young turks who wanted to make a few extra bucks. Once we had them on the dock, the guys took the batteries off our hands and swapped them out at the store for us. It saved us a lot of time and probably kept my back out of traction. You know, I am not that old yet but watching these young guys struggle with the batteries was very satisfying to me.

It took the better part of a day and a half to get rid of the old and install the new and I will tell you that I was really feeling it there near the end. My only solace was that those twenty something year old guys were feeling it too. That was until I invited them up for a beer when we were finished. "Naw, thanks," they said. "We are on our way to the gym now to work out." "Thanks anyway."

2009-11-10T08:34:00.004-05:00

If you were a child of the 70's, you might remember reading the best seller, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, a novel by Richard Bach. The story is about a seagull who wasn't content with the lifestyle he was living. Instead of 'flying with the pack', he chose to go off on his own and experience life in a way different from those around him. You might say he was the Jack Kerouac of the avian nation.

In our latest travels, we didn't see too many 'Jonathans' flying around. There weren't a lot of loners.

When Maya cuts through the water, her two big propellers move a lot of water. It takes that to move our 44,000 pounds along. With that, the water gets pretty much churned up causing all kinds of fish and plant life to come to the surface. The seagulls love this as it makes it easier for them to feed. And for a seagull, that is all life is about (unless you are Jonathan).

We took this video to show you how many friends we had following us on our latest trip. We generally left first thing in the morning which worked out great for the birds. I think they were hungry from the night before. As Maya chugged along, the seagulls dived in and out of our wake looking for food. They followed us for hours.

When they weren't eating, they were buzzing the flybridge or doing loop-d-loops in the air. It was great fun to watch. They also can make quite a racket, all their cooing and cawing. I wonder what they were talking about? We really enjoyed having their companionship with us....being part of nature and all that.

Later on in the day, I think I figured out what they were squawking about. Above our flybridge is a canvas bimini top. It protects us from the sun (and rain if we were in it). It is nice and white and I just spent several hours cleaning it before we left on this trip. Seems like the birds like to use it for "target" practice as well. I can hear them laughing to each other right now.

"Hey Fred, watch this one!" Plop! Or perhaps they were saying, "Look at those two in the boat smiling at us! What buffoons. Wait till they see what we left them."

I suppose all that food they ate had to go somewhere. I am just wondering that will all the wide open water they had to work with, why did they choose our boat to make their 'deposits'? Later that afternoon, I got to climb up on the side rails of the boat and reach out and clean all the presents they left for us. Mother Nature....what a mad scientist she is.

2009-10-22T09:35:00.013-04:00

I want to take a short break from writing about our cruising adventures to tell you the story of another 'adventure.' This one involves my sister Kathy who has been battling ovarian cancer for the past several years. I don't get a chance to take my hat off to her very often but I thought this might be a good time to do it.

A few weeks ago, she invited Kim and me to join her and her husband Robby on a 'cancer walk'. It was a fund raiser for research efforts to find a cure for this awful disease.

I had never been to one of these walks. I will tell you that there seems to be a lot of 'walks' nowadays and I wasn't sure what to expect. My first reaction to this was that is was just another fund raiser... which was great but what I found was that it was much more than that. What I was expecting was a solemn procession of friends, family and supporters out for an important cause. The cold and rain of that morning certainly reinforced that mindset.

What I found was totally the opposite of what I had expected. What this was in reality was a

celebration. It was a celebration for life and perserverance, for hope and support and for love and compassion. The sight of all of the survivors gathered around by their family and friends was truly inspiring.

There were lots of tents and food. There were little speeches given and recognition to those who were fighting the battle. (Kathy got the honor of being one of those who had been fighting the longest... 24 years, and let me tell you that it has been a fight.) They had lots of giveaways and raffles. There was a silent auction and even a local celebrity showed up. Of course there were the T-shirts and 'the ribbon'. But, what I discovered was that all the fru-fru was just background noise. The real event was being with your loved one and acknowledging their struggle in an outward and public way. That was what the day was about.

So, at the appointed time we took off on our way around the three mile course. It was really neat seeing all of the people out for the walk. Kids, dogs, bikers and wagons peppered the trail as we made our way around Lunken Airport. It was great.

As we neared the end of the walk, I noticed that the clouds had begun breaking up and that the sun was beginning to shine. A more prophetic sign I cannot think of.

2009-10-08T17:10:00.013-04:00

With apologies to John Steinbeck, I would have to say that in many ways, this has been the 'Summer of my Discontent.' Seems that every time I headed down to the boat I came back with some kind of injury. If it wasn't a jellyfish sting it was some barnacle scrapes. If it wasn't a bonk on the head, it was a cut on the leg. Throw in various bruises and sprains and the list gets pretty long. This last trip added to that list and as usual, the injury was self inflicted.

As you may remember from reading about our pump out experience, the boat owner is responsible for dumping the sanitary holding tanks on his boat. The procedure is not for the faint of heart as you have to handle the nasty stuff we rarely discuss.

The last time we finished pumping out, I noticed that the gauge that measures the level of our holding tank still read half full. Hmmm. That was odd. We were quite sure the tank was empty. Why didn't the gauge agree? For most people, a discrepancy like that would be meaningless. In their minds, the gauge read wrong and all that was needed was to make the mental adjustment that a 'half full' indication really mean 'empty'. No big deal.

Well, whoever said that 'idle hands are the devil's playthings,' was thinking of me. I just can't sleep at night knowing that we have a bad gauge. So one quiet Tuesday afternoon, I decided to investigate this phenomenon. My first thought was just to look around the tank for loose wires or anything else that was an easy fix. Everything looked good however and I wasn't going to get off that easily. My second thought was to simply tighten up all the clamps and hoses thinking that it could be a vacuum issue. It wasn't. Finally, the least desirable option was to open up the tank and remove and clean the gauge sensor itself. That wasn't going to be fun.

Now I have never owned a septic tank and no nothing about them except that I am glad we have a city sewer system at our house. Without going into a lot of detail, its just plain nasty. The holding tank is a substantial unit and it is closed up pretty tight. There are all kinds of seals and rubber rings that keep the bad stuff locked up tight. In order to get to the sensor however, I had to break open one of those seals.

After removing the last of several screws that held the inspection plate in place, I took a deep breath, held my nose and lifted the cover. I was expecting to be hit with the foul stench of human byproducts but instead was sprayed with a voluminous amount of 'effluence' (that is the scientific word for potty water). I still don't know how or why this happened but in a nanosecond I was covered with this smelly green fluid.

I immediately started spitting profusely while keeping my eyes tightly shut. Feeling my way back to the galley, I found the sink and got to scrubbing the junk off of my face. Oh, the humanity! I sincerely hope that those antibacterial soaps really do work. I think I used a whole bottle. Anyway, it was off to the shower after that for a Phisohex rinse, a hydrogen peroxide gargle and a clorox spritz.

Being sanitized on the outside, I began to wonder what my insides were like. I am sure I got my mouth closed in time but I wasn't so sure about my eyes. You really can't close your nose, but I don't think the stuff got that far up there to do any damage. But for sure I thought, I should get some answers. A quick call to my doc back in Cincinnati confirmed that I should run, not walk to the nearest ER or urgent care center to get a Hep B and tetanus shot along with antibiotics for my eyes.

The girls at the Urgent Care center had a lot of fun with me that afternoon. They kept calling me 'potty mouth' and the 'creature from the green lagoon'. The doc said it was a good thing I came in because if I had waited until morning, my eyes would have been swollen shut with infection. All in all, it was an interesting way to spend an afternoon.

The good news is that I fixed the gauge. It reads empty like it should. Now I can get some sleep.

2009-09-21T15:55:00.006-04:00

The last thing we did before we left Maya to come home was to prepare her for the worst...a hurricane. Of all the challenges a boater can face, this is the biggest.

We are not 'liveaboards' and most likely would not be physically present when and if the National Weather Service posted a hurricane warning. With that in mind, we had to prepare Maya with the assumption that during our absence, she might be caught in the crosshairs of one of these storms.

We all know that hurricanes can produce winds in excess of 150 miles per hour and dump several feet of rain in the space of a few hours. On top of that, the storm surge and tidal fluctuations can raise the water levels in excess of 15 feet above normal. Ironically however, the greatest danger to your vessel is not mother nature's wrath. The greatest danger comes from the guy in the boat next to you.

That's right. Depending how well your buddy next door (or in a slip across the way) prepares his boat, your chances of coming out of the storm unscathed increases dramatically. You see, most boats are damaged because another boat wasn't tied down properly and gets loose during the storm. At that point, the wayward ship becomes a 20 ton projectile, careening around the marina like a bull in a china shop. If you are unlucky enough that his boat puts a hole in yours, you are sunk. Literally.

I have heard that the safest place for your boat during a big 'blow' is to be anchored out at sea. That way, you don't have to worry about being slammed into by another ship. I cannot imagine little Maya being whipped around out in open waters, much less with Kim and me onboard. That is why we buy insurance... so we can sit it out in front of the Weather Channel at home in our living room.

That being said, there are some other things you can do to minimize the collateral damage. In a hurricane, the rain comes from all directions...above, below and sideways. If there is a crack or a seam that is open to the elements, water will get in. Additionally, the strong winds will blow anything that is not tied down into the next county. We spent the better part of a day taping up the spaces between the doors and the jambs, electrical outlets, windows and anywhere else we thought water might like to penetrate.

We also took down the bimini top that keeps us shaded up on the flybridge. That project caused me some worry. Maya has a very wonderful canvas bimini. It covers almost the entire length of the flybridge. You also can completely enclose the area with screening so you can sit outside at night, uptop, without being eaten alive by the bugs. It is fashioned together with literally hundreds of snaps, clips and zippers, none of which are marked. Apart, the bimini consists of 10 sections... all very large and bulky. Think of a giant jigsaw puzzle and you will get my drift.

About half way through the dismantling, it dawned on me that putting this thing back up was not going to be so easy. I am not really sure where to begin. Its like a Rubik's cube and sudoku rolled into one. All I know is that it will definitely be a two person affair and that communication and temper management will be key. I promise to have my video camera ready to record the event and I will post it later on YouTube for all to see. It will be for your entertainment and my protection.

2009-09-07T10:10:00.009-04:00

One of the less glamourous aspects of living on a trawler is dealing with everyday sanitation issues. Washing dishes and showering uses a lot of water and it all has to go somewhere. Thankfully, this 'gray' water is pumped harmlessly overboard as it poses no threat to the environment (unless you are a fish that doesn't want jojoba or styling mousse passing through its gills). We use about 30 gallons of water every day we are onboard and if we had to process this water before sending it into the ocean, it would severely hamper the operation.

So, you ask, what happens to the 'other stuff'. Appropriately called 'black water', these are the substances you cannot just dump overboard.* You have to keep it somewhere until you are in a position to dispose of it properly. There are a couple of ways to do this. Some boats have a sanitation system that processes and treats the sewage much like our city run sanitation department does. With the push of a button, it takes the effluent and grinds it up, kills all the bad things and sends it overboard. It supposedly makes the discharge so clean you can drink it and be safe. I am not so sure that I would ever want to be in a position that I would have to test that theory so lets take their word for it and move on.

If you don't have one of those super-dooper systems then you will just have to hold it.

Well, not in the literal sense. You have to keep your black water in holding tanks until you are at such a time and place where you can discharge it safely. Maya comes with two holding tanks and each tank can hold about 30 gallons of "stuff." Under normal ops, this capacity should last us about a week to ten days before the tanks are full. So far, our record is four days. I am not sure what is going on here but eventually we are going to get to the bottom of it.

So what happens when the holding tanks are full? Well first off, we have some neat gauges that tell us when we are getting close to being full. I don't think you ever want to be at max capacity, figuratively or literally. So when you see you are getting near that point, you have to find a marina that has the ability to 'pump' you 'out'. This process involves a long hose and giant vacuum cleaner type pump. The attendant (Kim) wearing heavy rubber gloves, attaches the hose to an outlet on the outside of the boat. This outlet connects to the holding tanks. The administrator (me) heads down to the engine room to configure the valves and hoses..... its all very complicated....really complicated. When she is ready, the attendant has the dock hand start the motor to the pump and the sucking out process begins.

I am not sure why they call this procedure a 'pump out.' It is really more like a 'suction out.' Anyway, the attendant keeps pressure on the hose while at the same time watching a small clear window on the nozzle. This window allows you to see your progress. When 'stuff' stops going by the window, you know the tank is empty. See, I told you it was glamourous.

It is hard to engage the dock hand in small talk or idle chit chat while this process in underway. The whole thing is rather undignified and I think everyone involved feels a lot happier when the pump out is over. So as soon as she sees that the suctioning is complete, Kim hands the 'magic wand' (as I call it) back to the dock hand. He smartly replaces it in a covered compartment away from view. You don't want that thing hanging around in plain view. It is like the tools the dentist uses on you while you are in the chair. He keeps them covered until you are lying back and can't see them. You know they are there, but you don't want to see them.

Here you can see how they sanitize things after each use.

So when the process is complete and the appropriate gratuities have been dispersed, we button her up and head on our way. I don't know how or why but for some reason, the boat just feels better after a pump out.

*There is a third option for dealing with black water and we don't use it very much. It involves a big black pump down in the engine room called a macerator. Macerator is a nice word for the grinder pump. If you are three miles or more off shore, you can turn on this big pump and discharge your tanks directly into the ocean. There are no hoses or gloves involved. No dock hands or clear windows to watch. Just push the button and the tanks empty out overboard. The only things affected are those marine critters, who by now have lots of jojoba and mousse in their systems.

Next time....fishing for dinner. Not.

2009-08-24T09:53:00.006-04:00

So, we are parked at Lookout Point off the coast of North Carolina. Our good fortune has continued as the weather is spectacular. Fair skies and calm seas has been our story thus far.

This particular anchorage is the deepest water we have ever 'dropped the hook'. The distance from the keel down to the sea bed was 26 feet and the water was so clear, you could see all the way to the bottom.

This whole boating experience has been somewhat like a marriage. We have gone through the courtship phase where we took Maya out a few times before making any commitments. We met her parents, the previous owners. We got to know her 'family' by looking at other Defevers and talking to their owners. We made a proposal and got accepted. The 'wedding' ceremony itself was a bit of a blur. It, like our own wedding, was over in a blink of an eye and before we knew it, we were a couple.

While we were 'dating' Maya, we were just awestruck with her beauty. From stem to stern and from top to bottom, she was a ten. We weren't interested in seeing any other boats after we met Maya. She was 'the one'. Oh, there were a few brokers who tried to get us to go out on their boats, but in our hearts we knew no other could compare.

Now we are on to the honeymoon phase. Honeymoons are an interesting phenomena. For the most part, they can be a lot of fun. Some people think of a honeymoon as a chance to take an exotic vacation with their newly acquired partner. Others make their honeymoons a period of rest and relaxation after the whirlwind of excitement of the preceding months has finally come to an end. If you haven't done that 'living together' thing prior to your nuptials, honeymoons can be a time of discovery too.

Up until now, all we saw in Maya was her beauty. Our rose colored glasses were fixed solidly upon our heads. Don't get me wrong, Maya is still a ten, however our honeymoon cruises exposed some flaws that we hadn't noticed before. Lets just say there were some idiosyncrasies. For instance, Maya looks great when she is all made up. That is, when she is clean and spotless. After she sits in a marina for a few weeks though, she needs a lot of work to look good again. Maya is also expensive. I am not saying she is 'high maintenance' but there are some costs associated with having a boat that we did not anticipate. Finally, in a few years, we are going to have to take Maya out of the water and send her to a plastic surgeon. There are some cracks in her paint and of course she will need a bottom job. The engines will need to be overhauled and most likely we will update her interior.

But, we are on our honeymoon and those thoughts are miles away. For now, we are happy as clams, enjoying getting to know each other. We are in love.

So back to our deep water anchorage.

Maya had been having a few problems below the water line. Some were our fault. Running over the top of crab traps and getting lines tangled around her running gear don't make for a smooth running boat. Other issues were caused by little things living in the ocean. Barnacles.

Maya has a special paint on her hull and keel that make it difficult for things to live and grow on her. This paint is designed to wear away slowly and anything that wants to stick to it will tend to be cast off rather easily. Barnacles love to make their homes on the bottoms of boats and Maya is no exception. Many boat owners hire divers to swim under their boats and scrape off whatever is growing there. It doesn't take too long but if you don't clean it regularly, the accumulation of those critters will adversely affect your performance, and could damage your craft.

This particular anchorage gave me the perfect opportunity to dive under Maya and check out the barnacle situation. The water was clear and warm and I had nothing better to do at that particular moment. So, I grabbed a scraper from our toolbox and jumped over the side. All in all, Maya was in pretty good shape. That special paint was doing a great job keeping those critters off the bottom. What I did find was that the paint didn't work so well in keeping them off the propellers and rudders. There were tons of them pasted all over the place. Luckily it was easy to scrape them off but it did take a long time.

One thing about barnacles though. They are very sharp. They will cut you like a knife. I found this out when I came up for a short break. My hands were covered in blood, which unfortunately, was my own. My hands were also covered in the blue ablative paint we have on the bottom. I found that it also comes off when you rub against it. Upon further inspection, my clothes, hair and skin were all covered with the paint. I was a mess. I looked a little like those guys from the Blue Man group, except I have more hair (for once).

Well, Kim hauled me out of the water and fixed up my wounds. We were able to get most of the paint off and after awhile, I was feeling good as new again.

The honeymoon we are on is far from over, however in the short time we have been together, we have garnered a newfound respect for Maya and the sea upon which she travels. We have found that if we take care of each other, things will be just fine.

2009-08-05T09:50:00.004-04:00

So far, most of our cruising time has been spent in the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway (ICW). A little like the interstate highways that we are used to driving our cars on, the ICW allows boaters to travel up and down the eastern seaboard and gulf coast without ever having to venture out into the open waters of the Atlantic Ocean or Gulf of Mexico. Because the ICW is inland and protected, boaters don't have to worry so much about the large waves and stormy weather you might have out on the ocean.

The ICW is essentially a mish mash of rivers, lakes and man made canals that connect to form a dedicated path from Texas to Maine. It was started back in the 18th Century and is continually being updated and maintained by the Army Corps of Engineers. Sometimes it is referred to as "The Ditch" as many parts were literally dug out of the landscape with bulldozers and backhoes.

We really like traveling the ICW. There is so much to see. Sometimes you might find yourself alone, quietly traversing a nature preserve. A few miles later you might be among the hundreds and hundreds of multi-million dollar mansions that have been built right along the shore. At ten miles per hour, we have plenty of time to rubber neck all the sights. Nothing is passing us by too quickly.

However sometimes ten miles an hour can be a problem. Like the drivers around here, no one likes a following a slow poke and we are definitely slow pokes. Most of the other boats that we see on the ICW are powered ski boats and runabouts. There are a ton of jet skiers and a fair amount of commercial barges and tows. They like to travel at nearly twice our speed. Sometimes the ICW is fairly narrow and like a two lane road, you just have to slow down and wait until there is an opportunity for you to pass. That's the theory anyway.

In our real life experience, that is not always the practice.

When boats are underway, they leave a wake behind them that can often be quite large. Depending on the size and speed of the boat making it, a wake can cause quite a thrill as it knocks you and your boat around. Boaters are supposed to slow down to a 'no wake' speed as they pass one another as their wake can be quite dangerous. In my limited experience, most boaters try to slow a little but frankly, many don't slow at all.

The other day we are making our way merrily down the Ditch just outside of Topsail Beach, North Carolina. It was beautiful sunny day that had brought just about every boater in the county out for a day on the water. Normally, we try to keep to the right as much as practical so we can stay out of the way of those who want to pass us. This morning however, we found ourselves in a narrow section and had no choice but to run down the middle. Moving over towards the side would have put us dangerously close to hitting the bottom.

Out of nowhere came this fairly large power boat... about a 24 footer I would say. He passed us off our starboard side by about 5 feet doing easily 25 miles per hour. Before I could even react, Maya was thrown into a 30 degree bank and heaved heavily to port. I was able to right the ship quickly however if someone was standing near the rails or on the aft deck, they could have easily been swept overboard. My first reaction was to catch up with that guy and give him a piece of my mind. You know, like road rage. That thought quickly passed as he would be back in his marina and on his way home before we could ever catch him. I got my binoculars out and noted the name of his ship. Ironically his boat was called the "Ding Dong". I tried to hail him on the radio, but it was to no avail. He was gone.

My second reaction, (which thinking back should have been my first) was, 'where was Kim?' I thought she had gone down to the Salon as she had left the flybridge (where I was) fifteen minutes ago. However, she could have been anywhere at the time when we were thrown by the wake.
I couldn't leave the bridge to look for her so the first thing I did was yell. I knew that probably wasn't going to work as the engines are noisy and you can't hear much while underway. Even if she did hear me, I doubt if she would come running as, well.... we have been married almost 25 years and that kind of thing just doesn't happen anymore.

The next thing I tried was blowing our horn. The horn on MAYA is pretty loud and I thought that if Kim heard it, she might wander up to see what all the fuss was about. If that didn't work, I was going to have to turn around and go look for her.

You know, the greatest fear I have as the pilot of the boat is that someone might fall overboard and I wouldn't know it. I would keep on truckin' along oblivious to the event. With only the two of us onboard, there is no one to be a lookout. If someone went into the drink and you didn't see it, it would be dicey finding them again. Now we have all this fancy safety equipment and unfortunately we keep it nice and safe on the couch right next to the flybridge helm where it can do absolutely no good. If Kim had fallen in, I knew she wouldn't be wearing a floatation device as we had never put them on. It was just plain dumb on our part.

Now this all happened in the space of about one minute, so I don't want you to think that I was speeding on down the ICW while contemplating Kim's fate. I slowed the boat down to a stop and looked back to see if I could spot her bobbing around in the water behind us. At ten miles per hour, if she fell in she would only be about 200 yards or so away. Just then I heard the salon door slam and the sound of her footsteps coming up to the flybridge. "What the h*** was that?!?" she exclaimed. Apparently the wake had caused everything to fall out of the refrigerator and spill out onto the galley floor. Kim had been downstairs cleaning up the mess and didn't hear my calls.

I told her about the guy in the speedboat and how his wake had made us roll like that. I think she was mad about it too, but as always she was the cooler head about these things and just let it go. I also reached over and gave her a life jacket and said that as the captain, from now on, I am requiring all crew members to wear life jackets while underway. That part about being the captain didn't carry much weight, however when I explained the part about her falling overboard I think she agreed with me.

In the future, I have to remember to replace the word 'captain' with the words "your loving husband". If I ever fall over the side, I want her to turn around and come pick me up.

2009-07-23T16:12:00.011-04:00

Probably the best thing about cruising is not about what you do on the boat, but rather what you do off of it. Being able to visit small waterfront towns, making new friends and getting off the beaten track is what this experience is really all about. I have had the good fortune of being able to travel my whole career and during that time, I have discovered a cornucopia of of local flavors and hidden treasures that you don't read about in guidebooks. For the most part, the really neat places were found, not by Googling a destination and planning a visit in advance, but rather by an accidental detour or last minute diversion. The scintillating aromas from a restaurant kitchen or perhaps the music and laughter from a county fair drift on soft breezes until they entice your senses enough that you just have to find out where they are coming from. When you discover these gems, you have to wonder whether it was fate or luck that brought you there. In "The King and I", Yul Brynner would have called it kismet!

Now, about the only thing ole' Yul and I have in common is our hairstyles, but I would have to agree with him that resigning yourself to destiny can often bring great fortune. The trick is to be open to all possibilities.

This cruise was highlighted by several enroute stops. While we enjoy anchoring out, it is also a lot of fun to get off the boat once in awhile and explore.

The first place we stopped was a little community called Surf City. We chose it mostly because we had heard that there was a Dairy Queen right across the street from our marina and I was craving some ice cream. (I guess that is as good a reason as any to stop!)

The marina was sorta small...a real mom and pop operation. There were only about a dozen slips but they were very nice. We arrived a little late in the afternoon and got one of the few remaining spots. Unfortunately they parked us right next to one of those obnoxious 'booze cruise' boats. You know, the kind that take tourists and their money on a two hour swing around the beach. If you like Jimmy Buffet and watered down pina coladas, you would love this thing. For most of the afternoon and early evening, there was a steady stream of party-goers lined up to get onboard. They all had to pass Maya in order to get on their ship and as a consequence, we drew the attention of many gawkers. It didn't take us long to get cleaned up and headed into town. There is nothing like having people looking in your windows as you are trying to relax.

Surf City is probably a lot like most of the smaller beachfront towns along the Atlantic Ocean. It was not overrun with fast food places (but thank goodness for the DQ) and there weren't many hotels there. It was mostly condos, local restaurants and cars with out of state license plates. We found this little bar that offered a fresh fish sandwich and ice cold beer so in we went. I like these kind of places. Nothing fancy. It was right on the beach and most of the diners there were barefoot and in their swimsuits. The food was served in a basket with plastic untensils and the napkins were from a roll of paper towels kept on your table. It was all good. The highlight of the evening though was our trip over to Dairy Queen. I think Kim was glad that we finally got there as I had been blabbering about that ice cream cone all day long. Now, at least I could shut up about it.
The next day found us in Southport, North Carolina, Maya's previous home port. Roger and Cathy Tatum, the couple from whom we purchased Maya, still live there and we took the opportunity to meet them for dinner. They are a delightful pair who still have a soft spot in their hearts for Maya. We spent the evening listening to stories of their cruising adventures. It was really a treat. Of course, I had to have some ice cream afterwards. When it is hot out, it just tastes so good.

Southport reminded me a lot of Mayberry. I half expected to see Aunt Bee out on her front porch and Goober down at the fillin' station pumping gas. It was Fourth of July weekend and the town was completely decked out in patriotic garb. There were flags and bunting everywhere. The big parade was the talk of the town and people were coming in from everywhere to see it. We would have liked to stay and seen it but the marina was booked up and they needed us out the next day. We put Southport on our list of places to visit again someday.

We wandered about the town for awhile after dinner just taking in the Americana and watching the sun go down. You could see the kids finally running out of energy after a long summer's day of play and weary parents getting ready for them to do it all over again tomorrow. I could see why the Tatum's enjoyed living here so much.

It was a short walk back to the marina where Maya bobbed patiently in her slip. Tomorrow we would leave the tranquility of small town America and head for the mayhem of Myrtle Beach. What a difference a day would make.

2009-07-17T19:57:00.011-04:00

Sound and vibrations. That's what I am in tune with. After being around engines and mechanical equipment for so many years, you develop an awareness to changes in pitch and sound long before they might show up on the instruments you use to monitor the motors. You just seem get a feel for when things aren't running right.

I know that some mothers can tell when their child is sick by the way they look, often before a fever sets in. Its almost like they have a sixth sense.

Well we haven't been on Maya that long but the other day I knew something wasn't right with one of the engines. The instrument panel didn't show anything abnormal, but something wasn't right. There was this subtle vibration that I could feel. It wasn't there all the time but there was definitely something going on. At first I wanted to ignore it because after all, any problems we uncover eventually translates into boat units. In some irrational part of my brain, I must have thought that by not investigating the problem, I could save some dough. You know, out of sight out of mind. Well its been said that most men lead lives of quiet desperation and I was quietly desperate that the slight vibration would resolve on its own and I could keep my wallet closed.

But it didn't. As a matter of fact, after playing around with different power settings, I could pretty much make the vibration better or worse. The more power I added, the greater the shudder. This was not good. My experience over the years is that when an engine vibrates as thrust is added, it usually means that internally something is going bad. It is the precursor to the mother of all boat unit expenditures. The engine overhaul. I couldn't even think about it.

Well, we motored down the intercoastal waterway for the rest of the day with the engines happy as clams at low power settings. In the back of my mind though, I knew something was wrong. Higher power settings produced that ominous vibration and eventually we were going to have to address the situation.

Later that afternoon when we had set the 'hook' (that's a synonym for the anchor... I hope you are making wallet cards) and were done for the day, I went down into the engine room to have a look around. I couldn't find any leaks, the engine mounts were all tight and there were no broken lines or hoses lying around. Of course, finding a bad bearing inside one of the engines would take the expertise of a diesel mechanic and we weren't near anyone like that. But that would explain the vibrations. It wasn't looking good.

Well, by now I had recovered from my jellyfish experience and I thought I would jump in the water and cool off for a bit. I could finish scrubbing the boat's water line from the last time when I was so rudely interrupted. The waters where we were anchored were crystal clear as you could see the bottom 25 feet below the surface. It was plain to see that there were no 'critters' floating around that might cause a swimmer pain, so in I went. I was about a quarter of the way around the port side when I noticed a piece of rope (or "line") hanging down from one of the propellers. That was odd. I wondered where it had come from.

I dove down under the boat to get a closer look. Sure enough, there was some nylon line wrapped around the starboard prop and shaft... about 15 feet worth. Well, that would have to come off. As luck would have it, I had just bought this groovy knife that was made especially for cutting lines. Why it was special, I'm not sure. All I know was that it cost a lot more than the steak knife I probably would have used and it looked cool. Besides that, I am not sure future guests would enjoy hearing how their eating utensils were being used to perform minor mechanical chores.

You might remember this show that was on TV back in the sixties called Flipper. I don't remember much about the plots but it seems that the characters on the show were always going underwater to help Flipper save the day. Every week in the climatic scene, they would dive from their boat with a knife in their mouth and swim great distances (behind Flipper) to cut free the endangered fish/child/boat... whatever. The mental image of me swimming with a knife in my mouth was something that I considered to be totally insane. If I didn't drop it or cut myself, I am quite sure that I would look like a total moron coming up for air with this knife between my teeth. You know, that David Hasselhoff Baywatch look? So I decided to do the smart thing with the knife (or so it seemed at the time) and put it in my front pant's pocket.

Now listen carefully here. If you don't learn anything from my blog musings, know that it is not a good idea to dive off the boat and into the water with a sharp knife in your front pant's pocket. Nuff' said.

I am happy to report that I was able to free the entangled line from our prop and shaft and that the heretofore vibrations were most certainly caused by its presence. This was confirmed the next day when at high RPM's, the engines ran like butter. The vibrations were gone. I am also happy to report that the only thing that was cut that afternoon was the fouled line and that all body parts were later accounted for.

*Note to self: Buy sheaf for knife.

2009-07-15T10:41:00.012-04:00

When I was a kid, I had this little tree house down in the woods behind our house. Like most treehouses, it was small and compact but I didn't care. It was a place that I could go whenever I wanted and just hang out. It didn't matter if it was messy or dirty inside. I didn't care if it got wet when it rained and I was always glad to have guests over whenever possible. In some ways, it was a place that you could put all the normal ways of living aside and just 'be'. Even on those days when you didn't have a care in the world, the tree house was an oasis. Just knowing it was down in the woods made you feel good. It was your place to escape when you wanted to get lost.

For some reason as we get older and grow up, we give up our treehouses. I don't know why. For heaven's sake, we need them now more than we did then. Oh, some people might have a modern day treehouse that goes by another name. Sometimes people will finish off their basements so that when they want some quiet they can head down there. Others might find their treehouse on the golf course or in some other hobby they enjoy. Still others might build their treehouses in a bottle of bourbon or a pint of ice cream.

It is not the same though. Those 'psudo treehouses' are too complex. Too complicated. Too expensive. I want my treehouse to be as easy and stress free as possible.

So, we bought a boat. A complex boat. A complex boat that operates in an environment that sometimes is perilous, often expensive and always challenging. Not exactly the kind of oasis I had years before. Nonetheless, it does provide a certain amount of solice. When we are not down on our hands and knees scrubbing floors or when we are not sweating buckets down in the engine room, Maya can actually be a peaceful respite from the outside world.

One of the things I like best about this boat is the amount of space it has. Surprisingly, there a lot of places you can go and hide. I think Kim likes the flybridge the best. Up there, you are 25 feet above the water and the views are often spectacular. There are a couple of couches and chairs you can spread out on if you want and there is music piped in from down below. Take a good book and a cold drink and you are set. I like it because it is covered and the sun can't get you. I am not a 'fan of the tan' as my fair skin just tends to burn and peel.

Most people who have the same model boat as we do enjoy the aft deck the most. It is set up primarily for entertaining guests. Ours has ample room for tables and chairs, a wet bar, gas grill, access to the water via the swim platform and a direct line to the all important bar. It too is covered so the sun and (God forbid) rain can't spoil your fun. Many boats don't have this much outdoor space available, so when other boaters are looking for a place to hang out, Maya is the place to go.

The inside cabins also have a lot of space. The master stateroom has a big bed, large head (that's a bathroom... I looked at my card), lots of storage and 8 big windows. Windows you say? Well, Maya has the Master Stateroom low in the stern. The water line is only a few short feet from the windows. When you are at anchor and retiring for the night, you can hear the sound of the waves lapping up against the hull. Add in the nice breezes that perpetually flow in and out and you have a recipe for a great night's sleep.

Finally there is the Main Salon, Galley and forward staterooms. We don't seem to spend much time in these areas although they have a lot to offer. The Salon has an entertainment system that includes satellite TV and surround sound. It came with 5 different remote controls and I have yet figured out how to turn anything on. Usually I am pretty good at getting electronics gear to work however this setup has gotten the best of me. But hey, we didn't buy the boat to watch TV.

So that is our basic layout. Small and compact but in a big way. We can't wait for all of you to come on down and join us for a cruise! Just bring your favorite book and prepare for some R & R.

2009-07-09T20:39:00.007-04:00

Most boats that have a draft (that is the part of the boat that extends below the water line) over 4 feet carry another smaller boat onboard called a dinghy. The dinghy is used to get to and from the shore in places that are too shallow for you to anchor. Usually these dinghies are not much more than an inflatable raft with an engine attached, but they don't need to be fancy. They are only used to go 100 yards or so....about the distance most boats with a large draft have to park out away from the beach.

The dinghy that came with MAYA is a 10.5 foot hard bottom inflatable with a 15 horsepower engine. It normally rests on the flybridge deck in a specially designed cradle made to hold the boat while underway. In order to get it off the boat and into the water, you have to lift it up in the air, position it over the side and gently lower it into the drink. This is accomplished by use of the davit. (I know, its another nautical term that has no meaning to us landlubbers. Personally, I keep a card in my wallet that has the layman's definition of all those words and refer to it often. Whenever I am talking to an old tar and he starts using a nautical term that I can't remember, I reach in my wallet like I am looking for something and sneak a peak at my cheat sheet. But I digress.)

The davit is a machine that works like a motorized pulley. It has a long cable that connects to the dinghy. You simply attach the cable to the boat, press the button and the motor lifts the dinghy up off the cradle and into the air. Once it is off its cradle, you rotate the dinghy so it is over the side of the boat. From there you just push another button that lowers it down. How easy is that?

On this trip, one of the things we wanted to accomplish was to try out the dinghy. We had never used it before and were anxious to give it a go. The only problem was that we couldn't remember all the tips the previous owners had given us as to the operation of the thing. Little things like, how to inflate it and where the davit connects were items that weren't coming back to us. On top of that, the engine hadn't been started in over a year and I had serious doubts about it turning over. Engines that aren't run often usually don't cooperate without at least a 'one boat unit' investment.

Anyway, we got to our anchorage early one afternoon and decided to give it a whirl (whirl is a non nautical term). The dinghy is about ten years old and hadn't been cleaned in a long time. It was filled up with nasty water and dead bugs but it was no problem for us though. We have gotten pretty good at cleaning since we bought Maya.

It only took an hour or so and we had her up to speed and ready for launch. I had previously bought new spark plugs and fresh gas for the engine in hopes that it might turn over without a lot of fuss, so all we had left to do was drop her in the water and start 'er up. We were able, through some miracle of fate, to get the dinghy over the side and into the water. That in itself was a success for us. If nothing else, we now knew how to get it off the boat and into the water. The next milestone was to get it around to the swim platform, get in (without killing ourselves) and try out the motor. I thoughtfully tied her up to the back of the swim platform and after checking for jellyfish, stepped into the dinghy. I felt a little like Neil Armstrong must of felt when he first stepped on the moon. So much so that I actually wanted to say a few words. But it was hot and Kim had that Buzz Aldrin look.... you know, lets keep it moving... so I did it silently.

I am not usually surprised but I was this time. The engine roared to life on the first pull. Heck my lawn mower never does that. It was running! I was so sure that it wouldn't fire up, I didn't have a plan for what to do next. Meanwhile, Kim was uniting the lines so I guess that meant I was going boating!

I put her in gear and took it around the patch. Kim ran in to put on her swimsuit and do that sunscreen bit, so I knew I had a few minutes to try her out. What fun! Even with a little 15 hp motor, the dinghy has a lot of pep. I zoomed around the anchorage for awhile getting a feel for it. The beach was only about 200 yards away but I thought I should wait for Kim before heading over that way.

Before long, she was aboard and off we went. The beach was fantastic and having this little mini boat made us feel like George and Judy Jetson (they always had neat stuff). We pulled right up onto the sand and got out like we knew what we were doing. I was a little hesitant turning off the engine as I thought that it might not start again. Neil and Buzz must have held their breath too when they pushed the button that started the LEM that got them off the moon. They were 240 million miles from earth. We were 200 yards from our mother ship but it was a long way to paddle and we had put on enough shows for other boaters in the last few months. The sight of the two of us operating the oars would have been on YouTube within an hour.

But, it sprang right to life and before we knew it, we were back along side Maya. 30 minutes later, the dinghy was back on the flybridge deck, safely tied down on her cradle. We can't wait to do it again.

2009-07-04T13:48:00.007-04:00

I think that Forrest Gump had it right when he said that "life was like a box of chocolates; you never know what you are going to get..." In many ways our second trip was like a box of chocolates. As much planning and preparation as we did prior to our departure, we just didn't know what "we were going to get. "

The first day started off with a little 'dual' from a retired Coast Guard captain. We had gotten his name from a mutual friend and we hired him to come out to the boat for a few hours to help us refine our docking techinques. He was a wonderful instructor. We were pretty good at getting the boat in and out of a slip. What we wanted to learn was better coordination skills. Many times our docking procedure looked a bit like a Keystone Kops movie where there was lots of running around and general chaos. There is a lot going on when you come into a slip. From the flybridge it is hard to see how close you are to the dock. You need someone looking over the side for you to tell you how close you are. Then there is coordination between the ship and those working the dock. Lines must be handed over and secured and the communication between those above and those below has to be clear. It sounds so simple and I guess after we do it a few more times it will become second nature. We just wanted to get with someone who could offer us pointers and tips on how to best accomplish this task. We couldn't have gotten a better person to work with us through the morning.

So we finished our 'mini course' and said goodbye to New Bern. We decided to head out a half day earlier than planned to check out this anchorage that looked pretty neat. It was mostly on the way, no more than an hour off our float plan and we figured that we should get used to being spontaneous. In this world that is so structured, it is hard breaking out of that mindset. So we packed up and went.

The anchorage was in a little inlet off the South River which is off the Neuse River in North Carolina. The books and websites all gave it high marks for scenery and tranquility. The weather was perfect, the fuel tanks full and the water was perfect. What could go wrong?

Well, this spontaneity thing may not be all its cracked up to be. You see, after we had gotten to the anchorage, which by the way was beautiful, I decided to be spontaneous again and get in the water to check out the boat. Some crud had accumulated along the water line and I wanted to get in and take a scrub brush to it. It was also pretty hot out and the water looked very cool and inviting. So I got in the water from the swim platform which is at the back end of the boat (stern) and had just made it around to the front (bow) when I had the very painful sensation that I was being stung.....in several places. At first it felt like electricity but the pain quickly increased. I looked around to see what it could be causing this but I couldn't see anything. Suddenly there was another round of shocks and that was all I needed. Michael Phelps couldn't have beaten me back to the stern of the boat and onto the swim platform.

I literally sprang out of the water and onto the aft deck. Kim came running out to see what was going on. All up and down my arm were these little welts (soon to be big welts) that were red and white. There were also a few on my leg. And boy did they hurt. At first I thought that maybe there was some kind of fish out there that liked me more than its usual diet of bugs but it just didn't make any sense. Kim took a look over the side of the boat and with a tone of shock and horror exclaimed, "Oh my god!" Swimming all around the boat were hundreds of jellyfish. These weren't the little guys I was used to seeing at the beach. These were the big boys. And they were everywhere.

Okay, so I am the unflappable guy. You know, the one that won that award in high school. So there would be no panicking. Lets assess the situation. I was in big time pain. There were welts growing up and down my arm and leg and I was starting to lose sensation there. We were at least an hour away from any help. Our cell phone wasn't getting any bars and the perfect weather we had been experiencing was starting to turn ugly. Dark clouds were forming off to the west.

My first thought was allergic reaction. That could be bad. We had very limited medical supplies....mostly neosporin and tequila. I had developed some minor allergic reactions the past few years to things that would make me swell up and want to vomit. Things like bee stings, kiwi and Phil Collins songs were on my top ten list of things to avoid. Jellyfish have a neurotoxin in their stingers that cause the pain. I was hoping that I wasn't going to have an allergic reaction to it as my options were very limited.

So for the next fifteen minutes or so we stood around waiting to see if my tongue was going to swell up and I was going to expire right there on the South River. I kept checking my pulse and Kim kept asking me about life insurance. "Where was that policy again?"

The pain was inspiring to say the least. In my fleeting moments of lucidity, I seemed to remember from the boy scouts (or was it Dr. Oz?) that the home remedy for a Jellyfish sting was to apply human urine to the wound site. Something about the acid in it or whatever, but it was supposed to counteract the toxins in the barbs left by those monsters.

I mentioned this to Kim who didn't take long to see where this was headed. I needed a human donor and she was the only one onboard. Now Kim, like most women, is fairly modest and this was an unusual request for anyone to help out with. I told her that it might work best if she would find a pot or pan and use that to 'secure' a sample. With that, I could use a paper towel to apply as necessary. What happened next was a bit of a blur. I am not sure what was in that bowl. It may have been warmed over tequila or possibly the urine, but upon application to the burgeoning welts, the relief was almost immediate. Wow. I didn't think it would work, but it did. I was going to live dammit!

The rest of the evening was pretty quiet. We decided to forgo margaritas that night and had several cold beers instead. The storm that came quickly departed just as quickly and it turned out to be a nice evening. It took several more hours but the welts started to subside and the pain gradually tapered off. The lesson here was to take a minute or two before jumping in the water to make sure you know what is going to be out there swimming around with you. Had I looked before I leaped, I would have seen the hundreds of jellyfish that were in the water all around the boat and probably not gone in. Yep, when you don't look before you leap, you never know what you are going to get.

2009-06-21T12:25:00.003-04:00

When I was a senior in high school, I remember winning one of those ridiculous awards they hand out at the end of the school year. You probably remember someone winning 'most likely to succeed' or 'best smile'. Well, the one I won was called 'most unflappable.' I must tell you that when the category was announced, I had no idea what it was. Graciously accepting the award, I sheepishly didn't know if it was a joke or not. It wasn't.

The dictionary will tell you that unflappable means 'not easily ruffled, stoic or not excitable.' So, okay. It wasn't 'most handsome' or 'best body' or one of the other sexy categories, but at least I won something. I think the background on this award stemmed from some incidents that occurred at some of the proms we held. I was class president and the person - defacto- in charge of the events. We had a few small meltdowns at the dances, (but they are the subject of another post or made for TV movie) but I must have handled the situations with the desired level of calmness. Hence the award.

So far, my unflappable qualities have served us well while boating. I never do seem to get too excited when things don't go right. I attribute much of that to the planning we put into each trip. Right now for example, we are getting ready for Voyage #2. We will be leaving New Bern within the week and continue our journey south towards Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Putting together the logistics and details for this trip is no small endeavour.

Where to start? Initially, we planned trips based on where we would like to end up. Ideally, it would be a city that was served by Delta, as it makes it much easier to get home (and get back when the next trip starts). After that, we have to account for the time and distances involved. As I have mentioned, we only go about 9 miles per hour and seeing as how we like to be at anchor or in a marina no later than three p.m., we typically plan to go about 50 miles a day. What we like to see is a suitable anchorage or marina near that 50 mile point along the way. As anchoring is free, that is always our first preference.

The hard part in the planning stage is when you cannot find a place to stop that fits in with your travel day. We don't want to stop short, as it will take forever to get somewhere, and and we don't want to go too far as weather and sunlight become players. It is a balance. Of course we have all the usual books, plotters, charts and websites to help us plan. There is literally an avalanche of information. The difficult part is weeding through all of it to find what applies to you.

For instance, we found an anchorage that would work well for us on the second night into the trip. It was the right distance from our previous anchorage (about 50 miles). It was in an area that was deep enough and had enough swing room for us in case the wind changed direction. No large tidal swings is good too. Unfortunately, as I later found out, this anchorage is part of a large Marine Corps base and often times they practice dropping bombs and simulating water attacks during the night. Now they don't mind if you park your boat in their waters, however you have to put up with their exercises in the wee hours of the morning.

Bridges and tides also play a part in trip planning. As everyone knows, the tides rise and fall with predicable regularity. As the tides move in and out, it creates crosscurrents, tail 'winds' and 'head' winds. It also lifts and lowers your boat, relative to slack tide. So for instance, if you thought you were going to be anchoring in 10 feet of water and the ebb tide (low tide) drops the water level by 5 feet, you might find yourself in waters that are too skinny to accommodate your boat.

Most new bridges are tall enough that we can pass beneath without any problems. There are however, many drawbridges and pontoon bridges that we must plan around. Their opening schedules are erratic and you don't want to find yourself waiting an hour or so for the next opening. As they say, timing is everything and bridge openings another factor you must plan for.

Beyond that, there are the easier planning items like food menus, rental cars and fuel stops. If you know me very well, you can vouch for the fact that I leave no stone unturned in search of a discount. It is not that I am cheap, its more like an adventure for me, trying to get the lowest price... or at least that is my story. Anyway, we have spent a lot time on the internet and telephone finding the best prices. I am not bashful in asking for discounts. I know it embarrasses some people, but not me. As long as you ask with a smile, people generally don't take queries about pricing the wrong way.

So after what seem like several weeks of planning, out trip has come together. Our float plan looks very doable and has more opportunities for us to explore some towns along the way. The wild card, as always will be the weather. Being the unflappable guy I am though, I have built in a few days of slack in case we have to sit out some storms or high winds. Not knowing what is around the corner is what makes these trips so much fun.

2009-05-20T12:33:00.005-04:00

A lot of people consider fulfilling their gastronomic needs as a highlight of the cruise. For some reason, food just tastes better out on the water. It must be like camping. Food tastes good on a camp out too. Anyway, we put a lot of thought into what we were going to have to eat on our first voyage. I think in some regards you have to. You have to make sure that you have everything on board that you plan to eat as there aren't many places to stop along the way to run in and buy something you forgot.

So, we had each and every meal planned down to the last crouton. Each night had its own theme. First night was steaks and potatoes. Second night, Italian. Third night was hamburgers and the fourth was leftovers (how'd that get in there?) For the most part, we liked to use the groovy little gas grill that is stationed off the aft deck. It is the perfect size for two people and two steaks. We do a lot of grilling at home, so this worked out fine.

And, no cruise would be complete without a fully stocked bar. Ours isn't fully stocked just yet as we were sticking with wine and beer for this go round, however I am sure that if Captain Stubbing can spare him, "Issac" will be joining us next time.

We really liked this meal planning thing. It takes a lot of the stress of deciding what to cook out of the equation. You know a week ahead what you are having for dinner, so there is no discussion or flip flopping on what to prepare. You just get into the galley and make it happen.

The last night before we headed home, we snuck over to an Outback that was nearby the marina for a nice meal. Sitting in that booth, we both felt like we were still rocking back and forth as we did on the boat. When the bill came, we wished we were.

2009-05-10T20:37:00.006-04:00

Boats like ours are very similar to a small city. We have all the necessary utilities and public services, albeit on a miniature scale. There is the sanitation department (the heads or 'bathrooms' for you landlubbers), the water department (for drinking and bathing), power and energy (the engines and batteries for electricity) and the public works department whose job it is to maintain and fix all the other components that make the boat work.

Additionally, we have a city government that consists of the Mayor (Kim) and administration (me). I like to think that our 'government' is a democracy where we each get one vote in all matters.... and we do. It's just that in the event of a deadlocked vote, Kim has the authority to break all ties with her super-majority powers. This arrangement has served us well so far. The one thing we don't have onboard is a brig (prison). I am not sure what the penalty is for insubordination (or dare I say, 'mutiny') but I suspect that it is swift and severe.

On our first cruise, the public works department notified the Mayor of a potential problem that involved our electrical grid. There were some questions about how long the batteries could support her use of a hair dryer, microwave oven and such. Being new to the job, I wasn't sure how good our battery system was or how many amps these devices would use. You see, when you are running the 'city' on battery power alone, you have to conserve amperage lest you run out. Running out involves the loss of other essential services, notably the sanitation department and the ability to notify EMS via our radios. Seeing how this fell under my jurisdiction, I felt obligated to manage this situation before it became a crisis.

The batteries we have onboard are pretty good. They were designed to power the boat for several days while at anchor. Every time you run the engines or genset (which wasn't working on this cruise) they are completely recharged. However, we had been having issues with this system and I didn't want to go hog wild right off the bat. I felt that monitoring the power usage each day and then adding components a little at a time was the best way to keep us from having a black out. We have many other items that are good to have working as well. There are lots of lights, which are nice. We also have need for water and bilge pumps. The refrigerator needs lots of power as does the starter motor that gets the main engines going. In my mind, these are high priority items.

As it turned out, we were able to do fairly well by conserving power where we could and measuring our usage on a daily basis. Since we ran the engines all day, by the time we stopped for the night, the batteries were fully charged. We just had to make it through the night and following morning on our batteries until it was time to get underway again. We have this very neat device which measures our electrical usage and gives us a reading of how much battery power we have remaining. On behalf of the Mayor, I checked this device quite often and when necessary, provided 'recommendations' for her consideration. Unlike Bush administration officials, I felt compelled to speak out on issues even though I knew my thoughts would not be received kindly. But hey, that is my job and I take it seriously.

I am happy to report that the crisis that I was concerned about never did materialize and while some might call me a pollyanna, I don't think I overreacted. Being conservative never hurt anyone, especially when you are new to something. Perhaps a few protein follicles did not have the benefit of being dried in a controlled environment, however we were cruising essentially in the wilderness where the probability of running into any 'constituents' was nearly zero. Its okay to let your hair down once in awhile, especially if no one is looking.

I have also been informed by the Mayor's office that I need to get the electrical grid under control before the next cruise. This boat was purchased with the understanding that most of the creature comforts of home would be available onboard at all times and that it is my job to see that these things work. Seeing that the next election isn't in the foreseeable future, I best snap to it. I want to keep my job.

2009-05-03T20:32:00.003-04:00

Day four.

Made it all the way to New Bern. What a fantastic trip it has been. The ICW is so beautiful and unspoiled. It is truly a treasure.

I think that many of the crabs who live in the waterways have come to think that the areas immediately adjacent to and beneath the ICW are safe havens from fisherman. Why else would these same fisherman put so many of their crabtraps directly in the waterway?

We spent the better part of the last day and a half avoiding a lot of these traps. They were everywhere. The traps are identified with less than colorful buoys/markers that float on the surface of the water. They are connected to the traps, which lie on the bottom, by rope lines. If you run over one, you risk fouling your props. If that happens, you have to get down in the water (yes it is very cold) swim under the boat to the props and cut the line loose with a knife. I am just not sure that Kim would enjoy that.

Anyway, upon arrival at New Bern, an alert fellow boater pointed out to us that we had picked up a passenger along the way. Floating off the starboard side of the boat was part of buoy that belonged to someone's crab trap. It had gotten caught on one of the stabilizer fins that sticks out the side of the hull. Depending on the strength of the rope and the speed of your boat, catching one of these things can do a lot of damage.

My first thought was of course, 'boat units'. The damage to the boat could have been significant. The other issue was removing the stowaway. The water in a marina is pretty yucky. There is a certain amount of oil and fuel floating around and who knows what else other people are dumping off their boats overboard into the water. Getting down in the murk to free this thing wasn't going to be pretty. Besides, Kim had just blow dried her hair.

In typical boater fashion, the people beside us in the next slip had just come over to greet us when this discovery was made. They immediately offered their dingy for us to use so that we could paddle over to the side of MAYA to see if we could free the marker. As it turned out, I was able to pull right up to the stabilizer fin, reach down into the water and cut loose the offender with a sharp knife. There was also no damage done so those 'boat units' could be put back into escrow until next time.

It was sad putting MAYA to 'bed' so soon. Our first trip was too short but we had to get back to the grind. Counting the days until we can be full time mariners will occupy our thoughts for the time being. Even now, we are planning and dreaming of adventures yet to come.

2009-05-02T09:29:00.006-04:00

Day Three.

Every morning before we set out, I go down into the engine room and do a quick systems check. I am looking for anything that seems out of the ordinary. I check the oil levels in the engines and generators. I inspect the transmission fluids and fuel levels and other things like that. In reality, it is an excuse to putz around down there because I did the same exact check the night before, but I like to look busy around Kim.

Today during the check, I discovered that we were getting low on water. Our boat carries 450 gallons in two separate tanks and it is used to take showers, wash dishes and such... just like in a house. We still had some left in the tanks but I thought since we had several days left to go, it might be wise to stop at a marina and fill up. When we started the journey back in Norfolk, the tanks were full. One of the things we wanted to discover on this trip was to see how long these full tanks would last. We weren't trying to conserve any water at this point. I took my normal showers (heaven knows that it doesn't take me long to wash my hair anymore) and Kim did too. We were busy cleaning a lot and we found that the toilets used a fair amount as well. So it was no big deal to find out that after three days, we had used about 2/3's of what we carry.

We have these wonderful guide books that are similar to AAA travel logs. They list every marina and boat supply stop along the ICW. It was easy to just thumb through and find one that was along our route. We were packed up and rarin' to go early. The mission

today was to put another 60 miles behind us and

fill up with water. The weather was perfect again. Clear skies and calm winds. Kim worked part of the morning trying to figure out how the oven worked. She was going to make fresh cinnamon rolls for breakfast. I think that she had to use plan B as the big oven would light off. We have this backup toaster oven on board that in reality worked better. All I knew was that after about an hour, the smell of freshly baked rolls began wafting up onto the flybridge. It smelled grand!

The route today took us through another stretch of man made canals that connected a couple of rivers. We wouldn't be at the marina we picked out until around noon so we had much of the morning to drone along at 8 mph. One of the nice things about this marina was that it had free wifi available. We had been out of contact for several days now and I was starting to get withdraw symptoms. No internet? No cell phones? How could one survive under such spartan conditions?!! On top of that, it would be nice to just step on dry land again, if only for an hour or so.

We found the marina with no problems. They were glad to see us as business had been slow the past several months. We bought some fuel from them, even though we didn't need any. They had a dog, which gave Kim lots to be happy about. All in all, it was a nice pit stop.

About an hour after we left the marina, we were able to get a cell phone signal again. I felt like Tom Hanks after his rescue in 'Castaway' when I saw those bars appear on my phone. "We're back!" I called down to Kim. Three days out of the loop seemed like a long time. It was good to be connected again. Unfortunately I only had one message and it was from AmVets. They were going to be in the neighborhood and wanted to know if we had anything. I guess there wasn't much going on in the 'loop' anyway......

Our final anchorage looked to be a delightful spot. It was right off the ICW in an area surrounded by trees. It was protected on all sides from the wind and the water was calm. Unfortunately one of the reasons it was so calm was because it was so shallow. As we approached the entrance to the cove, our trusty depth sounder let us know that we were getting into waters that MAYA wouldn't like. We want to keep at a minimum, 4 feet of water under the hull. We weren't even near the spot we wanted to drop anchor and we were all ready at the limit. The chart said it was going to be tight anyway and upon further reflection, we decided to press on down the way to another spot. It turned out to be for the best anyway as it was still early in the day and we wanted to keep going if we could.

Another perfect anchor drop for us. We were now 2 for 3 and hoping for a continued winning streak moving forward. Pasta was on the menu for the last night on the hook. Another great sunset and it was time for lights out. I was playing around with one of the TV's and was able to watch a little of Jeopardy! Couldn't ask for more than that.

2009-05-01T10:52:00.001-04:00

Day two.

Didn't get a lot of sleep on night one. Mostly I was concerned about the anchor. After the problems we had getting it set, I just wasn't 100% convinced that it was going to hold. The wind had really picked up after it got dark and we were blowing around every time it changed direction. I know I was up every hour checking on it. The other issue that I had was the noise. Man, that boat makes a lot of creaks and groans. I had no idea. I am a light sleeper by nature and I can tell when my neighbor down the street flushes his toilet at 3 am. Being surrounded by new and strange noises all night was going to take some getting used to. Kim of course was dead to the world. I wish I could sleep like she does.

But, as it says in Psalms, "Joy cometh in the morning." Sunrises on the water are spectacular. It is so quiet and peaceful. The only noises you could hear were a few birds looking for an early breakfast, a fish or two jumping out of the water and that guy parked next to us flushing his commode.

We wanted to get underway a little early that day as we were going to cross a big open body of water. The Ablemare Sound is notorious for rough water and high winds. It is a stretch of about 25 miles where you are at the mercy of mother nature. In our boat that equates to about 3 hours of travel. We wanted to get going before it got rough. Additionally, we wanted to get the anchor up before the current started moving again. I am sure the boaters parked next to us were eager for another performance, but it was not to be. We pulled the anchor right out of the mud and hauled it onto the deck. Even though we had a wash down hose that got most of the mud off the chain and anchor, recovery is a very dirty process. But hey, we were loose and underway like we were pros.

Once again the weather was cooperating. The skies were crystal clear and the winds were dead calm. Our trek across the Ablemare was like skating on glass. It was a little unnerving at first being completely out of sight of land however there were lots of other boats transversing the Sound and we felt more and more comfortable as we went along. Navigation is not a problem as there are many buoys and day markers along the route. I think you could get away with using only a good pair of binoculars and a chart if you had to. Our boat has two very sophisticated Garmin GPS systems tied into 27 satellites orbiting the planet. We knew where we were to within a foot +/-. It is that good. On top of that, we have three radios and two compasses. Getting lost would have been difficult.

But we made it across and once again were in sight of terra firma. This stretch of the ICW connects rivers and streams with larger bodies of water (like the Ablemare Sound) with occasional man made cuts and canals along the way. It winds its way through the wilderness of eastern North Carolina and is very scenic. We didn't pass any homes or marinas the entire day. On top of that, we were out of cell phone and Internet range as well. We didn't know it then, but we would be without our techno-cellular lifeline for three more days.

As we became more and more relaxed, our routine took on a more normal complexion. Kim and I took turns driving the boat. We made each other food to eat and listened to the radio that was piped into the flybridge. It was starting to be fun. What could be better than NPR and a cup of coffee while you are zipping down a small river in the middle of nowhere at 8 miles per hour?

Three o'clock came and went. We were very near to where we had planned to anchor for the night. As we pulled off the ICW and into the small bay where we would be laying up, we were relieved to find no one there yet. Determined to build on our experience from the previous attempts at dropping the hook the day before, we slowly and methodically positioned ourselves for the 'drop'. Kim got the boat into the wind and gave us just enough power on the engines to keep us from floating backwards. "Anchors' away" I exclaimed to no one in particular as the iron beast splashed gingerly into the deep.

I gave Kim the signal.....okay, we really didn't have a signal worked out yet, but I let her know it was time to slowly back up. I had plenty of rode out (extra chain) and the chain gradually got taught. I gave her the stop signal, and we waited. It held. Amazing. Really amazing.

That was easy.

Okay so we were set up for the night. We were going to be grilling out steaks off the back deck and boy were they going to be good. The view was breathtaking, just what you hoped for when you planned out the trip. We had planned to catch up on emails and phone calls that afternoon but were unable to pick up any signals. We were out in the middle of nowhere. Just us and our boat. It is what we signed up for.

Turns out we were the only ones anchored in that area for the night. What a deal.

2009-04-30T23:03:00.010-04:00

I hate to quote Donald Rumsfeld but he was right about one thing. "You don't know what you don't know..."

Our first trip, now safely in the books was really great. It was fun and exciting yet nerve racking and sometimes scary. More than that though, it was a great learning experience - akin to being hit with a fire hose full of information.

For months, we had been planning this trip down to the last detail. We had all the bases covered and felt that we had a good handle on things. We had spent hours pouring over the charts, surfing the blogs and reading Chapman's guide to Seamanship. At some point though, you have to just get out there and do it. Enough of theories and technique. Time to put down the books. We wanted to get in the game!

And so we did.

We headed down to Norfolk on a beautiful Saturday morning to make ready the final preparations to the boat. She needed a day to make a few last minute adjustments, most notably a change in her port of call. The United States Coast Guard requires that all documented vessels have their name and home port clearly marked on the transom (back end of boat). The previous owners had their home port in Southport, NC and it was with a little melancholy that we removed those letters. On some level we were taking over stewardship of a wonderful piece of machinery that had brought years of joy and wonderment to all her past owners. The torch was being passed and now it was our turn. As I affixed our lettering to Maya, it reminded me of when we brought our first child home from the hospital a day or so after he was born. As I was fumbling around trying to put him into the car seat for the first time, I thought to myself, "damn".... "do I really know what I am doing?"

I am sure "W" felt the same way on January 20th, 2000, however, I am not sure that he ever recovered.

And so the next day, with two full tanks of fuel and a wing and a prayer we quietly slipped from our berth and headed eastward down the intercoastal waterway (ICW). The conditions for our first day were spectacular. Clear skies, calm winds and water like glass were the rule. Surely King Trident was looking out for us on our maiden voyage.

Within the first hour, we encountered a draw bridge. This bridge didn't raise up like most, but rather swung around to let you through. We were the only boat going through and I think Kim felt a little guilty looking at the line of cars waiting for us to pass. At a top speed of 10 mph, it takes a little time to get through. My thought was that it was Sunday morning and if they were on their way to church they would surely be reminded that patience is a virtue.

Most of the day was uneventful. That portion of the ICW is essentially a man made canal where navigation is not required. It is a 300 foot wide ditch that goes for miles. It made for a nice start to the trip as we had nothing to do for 5 hours except keep it between the treelines. Low stress.

Around 2 o'clock, we had planned to stop at a nice little cove and try our hand at anchoring. Two is a little early to stop for the day but the thinking was that since we had never dropped the anchor, it might be wise to give ourselves a little extra time to figure it all out. That turned out to be wise thinking. As we pulled into the anchorage, we noticed that there was another boat already there. It was neatly tucked into a spot and her occupants were sitting on the aft deck enjoying what looked to be an early happy hour. Little did they know that there was going to be entertainment involved with their evening cocktails. The water looked deep enough and the charts and depth finder confirmed this. We had 4 feet of water under the boat and that should have been plenty.

I put on my gloves and made my way out to the bow where the anchor was. I don't know why but it looked strangely like a child's car seat (but I think we covered that already.) Kim was up on the flybridge, keeping the boat as stationary as she could, given the winds and the current. I needed to work fast so we could set the anchor where we were. I knew what all the books said about anchoring and the procedure seemed simple enough. Untie the anchor from the bow and let gravity take over. Once it hits the bottom, slowly move the boat backwards allowing the anchor to set, or dig itself into the bottom. You will know that it is set as the chain that holds the anchor to the boat gets taught. You will also know because you stop moving.

It was that second part that didn't seem to be happening. The anchor was on the bottom, this we knew. We moved the boat backward and the chain got taught. After a few moments, we noticed that we were still drifting backwards (towards the weeds in the shallow water). In the flying biz, when you are coming in a for a landing and things don't look right, you do a 'go around'. In that maneuver, you climb back into the sky and come around again for another try at the landing. In the Navy, I am told that is called a 'wave off'.

So we waved off. No big deal. We pulled up the anchor, took the boat back out into deeper water and tried again. Same procedure. Drop the anchor, back up the boat and pray like there is no tomorrow that it catches. No dice. We were drifting again. Another wave off.

Okay so we are new. These things happen (although in the flying biz, you have to nail a landing eventually or you will run out of fuel). We had lots of gas- it was pride that was running low. An hour had gone by and we were still getting nowhere. I am not sure but I think we had four or five wave offs. Finally we heard a crackle on our radio. It was the crew from the boat parked next to us. Apparently they couldn't take it any more either. They offered a simple suggestion to us. They said to let out 100 more feet of extra chain before backing up the boat. That helps the anchor to drag along the bottom instead of lifting up as you move backwards. The dragging is what makes the anchor catch.

Well we knew that you needed to let out some extra chain (they call it the 'rode' in the marine world) but we didn't think you needed that much. At that point however, we were willing to try anything. We let out the chain, Kim put it in reverse and the boat stopped moving. Let me tell you that it is amazing how long you can hold your breath if you have to. We stood there hoping that this was the time. One minute, two minutes, three. We were holding. Five minutes, ten. I think we did it. Fifteen minutes and the other boat called again. "Nice job" they said. "Looks like you could use a drink" they added. "Come on over, the bar is open."

Thanks to their help we never had another problem anchoring. From then on we nailed it every time on the first try. Just like that car seat.

2009-04-22T10:17:00.004-04:00

We have checked the weather and it is looking grand. Sunny skies and calm wind for the whole week of our first voyage. You couldn't ask for better conditions. The ship is essentially ready. We have fuel and water. The engine problems have been overcome. All that is left to do is to make for provisions and do a little light cleaning and we should be underway.

As much as we like to think that we have thought of everything, the one issue that is still lurking around in the great unknown is the 'togetherness' thing. I don't mean that we don't like spending time together. We do. It is just that we have never done it while confined to such a small space. Our boat is 44' long and has a few levels. The lower levels have the staterooms and the middle level has the salon, cockpit helm and galley. Outside is the aft deck and above that is the flybridge. Sounds like a lot of space, but when you are there, well, not so much. Like aboard all boats, space is tight.

I know that a lot of folks live aboard their boats full time and never have a problem and I am sure that we won't either. It is just that we have become empty nesters recently and now that our house is quiet, we kinda like it. It is nice to find a room in the house to go hide and read a book or watch TV. On the boat, the other person is going to be aware of everything you do - when you do it.

There is going to be a transition to this new lifestyle.

The really great thing is that the boat has been outfitted very comfortably. It has a couple of music systems, satellite TV (which we don't know how to turn on) DVD player with surround sound (don't know how that works either) and four separate remote control units. I think I counted the buttons once and all together the remotes have 135 of them. That being said, we plan on bringing several good books along just in case we find ourselves unable to connect to the outside world.... which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Of course we will have our trusty laptop and cell phones for emergencies, but all in all, we are cutting ourselves off from society for awhile. It is exciting and scary all at the same time. Isn't that what life if supposed to be like anyway?

Wish us a bon voyage. We will try and update as we pass by some wifi hotspots.

2009-04-13T22:50:00.001-04:00

I was almost certain that I would find the mystery switch in the 'on' position. As it turns out that switch wasn't so mysterious after all. As a matter of fact, it is the largest thing hanging on the bulkhead wall and it is bright red. Duh. Anyway, it was, of course 'on'. As soon as I saw it, the words' boat unit' came to mind. Not only was I sure that we were going to have to buy a new battery, but I was also sure that we were going to have to pay someone to help us remove and haul away the old one. It weighs in at 170 pounds.

If the adage is that "behind every great man there is a great woman", then the corollary to that must be that "behind every husband's great idea, there is a patient wife." My great idea was to get Kim to help me and move it ourselves. The first thought was not to tell her how much that giant 8D battery weighed. If mind over matter has any standing at all, I figured this might be a time to test the theory. The second thought was that my first thought wasn't too smart. I decided to be practical and instead of saying it weighed a lot, I just said it was "a little heavy".

I don't know if it was the adrenalin, fear or the thought of spending yet another boat unit, but somehow we lifted the behemoth out of its resting place. It took several spurts of energy and many breaks but eventually we made it out to the rental car. With one last burst, we hoisted it into the back end of the car and I was off to the local Autozone . A nice young man came out to help me unload that monster from the trunk, but before I could regale him with tales of my fetes of strength, he reached in and lifted the thing out like it was a ten pound sack of potatoes and carried it to the store. He even waited to hold the door open for me, but I couldn't let that happen. I had too much pride. "After you" was all I could mutter.

I wound up buying two smaller batteries with the thought of wiring them together in parallel to increase the amps. With the advances in technology, these smaller batteries carry as much as wallop as the larger ones. Now we'll have more power with less battery. On top of that, the 31's weigh about 25 pounds each and cost a fraction of a replacement 8D. What a deal. On the way out, that nice young man suggested that I get someone to help me unload the batteries when I got back to the boat, effectively ending any chance he had of getting a tip. "They're pretty heavy", he told me.

I love a happy ending and I am glad to report that the starboard engine sprang right to life on the first try. I love it when a plan comes together.

We spent the rest of the weekend cleaning up the interior and getting ready for our trip down the ICW. Two weeks and counting.

2009-04-10T08:56:00.000-04:00

Every twelve to eighteen months, it is necessary to take your boat out of the water in order to inspect, clean and repair the bottom. Over time, after sitting in the water for an extended period, algae, barnacles and associated parasites build up on the keel. Unchecked, they can eat through the painted water barrier exposing the bottom to destructive forces. On top of that, it is just a good idea to make sure that the rudders, propellers, stabilizers and through hull fittings are in good shape and not leaking water.

Our boat is 44 feet long and weighs 44,000 pounds. It is a heavy ship. Taking it out of the water is a big deal. I often wondered how the marina yard workers are able to handle this chore. As one would expect, there are tools and machines for everything. This contraption is called a travel lift and is used to pick boats out of the water. Some are capable of lifting nearly 100,000 pounds.

It works by placing heavy duty straps strategically under the boat and hydraulically lifting the ship out of the water. Once 'in the straps', the travel lift can move the boat away from the water and take it anywhere in the boat yard. Often the boat is lowered onto wooden blocks where it is released from the straps and lashed down to supports. There it can be cleaned, painted or repaired. Sometimes boats are lifted out of the water and put on the 'hard' for long periods. This can keep them safe from strong hurricanes or allow bigger projects to be completed that wouldn't be feasible if the boat was in the water. In case you are interested, they generally charge about $20/foot for this service. That is .8 boat units.

2009-04-02T21:15:00.000-04:00

Well, the maiden voyage had to be postponed. We ran into some last minute scheduling issues and on top of that, the weather wasn't going to cooperate. I have heard that one thing that cruisers do not do is maintain a schedule. As the operation is at the mercy of mother nature, those who choose to tempt fate often find themselves in trouble. As they say in the flying business, it is better to exercise your superior judgement than to demonstrate your superior airmanship.

We were able to get down to MAYA for a few days. My dad accompanied me for a short two day affair. We were able to knock out a few of the more pressing projects and I am happy to report success on all fronts. It is fun to have dad come down and help out. He is so interested in all the machinery down in the engine room and is a big help. He changed out some water lines for me and helped while I installed a new fuel transfer pump.

We decided to start up the engines and let them run for awhile. The port engine (left side) came right to life however the starboard engine (right side) was dead as a doornail. At first glance, it appeared to be a dead battery. The boat has been idle since last November and its not out of the realm of possibility that it gave up the ghost during that time. It is a big battery and I couldn't understand how it could have just died like that. In my mind, there had to be some other reason that we were not getting it to start. So, like the newbie that I am, I got on the internet and starting phoning the experts. Turns out that there is a 'secret' kill switch down in the engine room that would prevent an engine start if it was left in the 'off' position. My guess is the boat yard mechanics that helped winterize MAYA last November left it in the off position by mistake, as I have never heard of nor seen this switch. Unfortunately, I will have to wait until the next trip down to reset it. If not, I think we might be into spending some serious Boat Units before we head for the Carolinas.

Some congratulations are in order for Kim, hereafter known as Admiral Kim. She completed her training classes with the Coast Guard and passed her tests. This boat is definitely a two person operation and I am glad that one of us has official credentials. I am going to have to sharpen up my salute as she is now the superior officer on deck.

2009-03-19T16:17:00.000-04:00

It seemed that our first few weekend visits to MAYA were comprised primarily of exploration and discovery. We were exploring every nook and cranny to see what exactly we had bought and along the way, we discovered many things that needed fixed. The previous owners did their best to point out a few things that needed attention before we purchased her, however there is no way to tell what may pop up in the future. This search and discovery process was fun and in some ways painful. When we would uncover some little neat thing that we didn't know we had, invariably our excitement was muted not much later by something that we found was broken.

For instance, the engine room is filled with all kinds of heavy machinery, electrical and plumbing components. At first glance it can be overwhelming. I know the first time I went down there, I almost walked away from the deal because the thought of learning how all that stuff worked was so daunting. All I could see when I went down there were dollar signs or as we have come to know them as, boat units. We have been told that a boat unit is worth $1,000.00 dollars and that everything you monetize on the boat is expressed in these units. You need a new autopilot, well that's 5 boat units. A new anchor, that's 1 boat unit. I think boaters use that term because it is less painful than saying the 'D' word. (dollars).

In any event, we haven't had our first voyage yet and we have already spent 3 boat units for repairs and maintenance. You may be able to pick out the round wheel that is leaking fluid in the picture. This engine component drives cooling water throughout one of the engines. It, along with its gasket, needs replaced. Just like that, another boat unit.

Nonetheless, it has been fun so far. In a few short weeks, we will be headed out from our temporary home in Great Bridge, Virginia, along the Intercoastal Waterway to our first port of call in southern North Carolina. We are hoping for lots of fair skies and fewer boat units.

2009-03-14T10:35:00.000-04:00

Welcome to our cruising blog. We are very excited about the new life style that we are about to undertake. For the past year or so, we have been preparing for our foray into the boating world and have done hours of research and training. We bought our boat without much experience on the water and have spent the better part of the last 18 months getting up to speed.

Two weeks from today, we embark on our maiden voyage as we depart our temporary home at Great Bridge, Virginia and make our way south to our new home in South Florida. We expect that this voyage will take the better part of 2009 as we will be making many stops along the way. We hope that you will join us as we share our experiences in what is shaping up to be a memorable journey.