Wordless Wednesday around the marina...

So do you like have a bathroom...?

Well yes, yes I do.

It always makes me want to laugh hysterically when someone asks me this.

Really? Do you think I'm a magical creature that doesn't make waste? Do I smell so bad you assume I never shower? (Yeah. That's right. I alluded to the fact that I use a toilet. Get over it.)

I think what they really mean to ask is, "What's your bathroom situation?"

I have a marine toilet, commonly called a head, on board. (Remember when I had to rebuild it?)

However, because my marina is awesome, I live RIGHT NEXT to the bathrooms. There is one boat that's slightly closer, but I couldn't begin to keep my boat in his slip (he's on the sea wall and my boat is too short for that!)

I have a personal access card to use one of four (or two in the winter) bathrooms.

 Each bathroom is its own room with a fold-down seat for putting clothes on, a toilet, a sink and a giant shower stall. Bathroom No. 3 is my personal fave because it has a really nice showerhead. And it's one of the ones only accessible with an access card (and therefore not open all day long for everyone to use).

So yes, readers. I have a bathroom. And I know how to use it!

Hurricane shmurricane... right?

Well, folks, Misty Rose is all set to ride out Hurricane Irene. The forecast is becoming more favorable -- we're sitting at 80 percent chance of tropical storm force winds, according to the NOAA weather radio aboard. Yes, I'm still aboard. No, I will not be here once it starts hurricane-ing. I know I posted the other day that I wasn't that worried, but, well, I've succumbed to peer pressure.

In the end, the marina decided for me that I would be taking off my roller-furled sail, which Greg helped me do after work yesterday. It's folded up in my dock box. I also took an extra line and tightly tied around the outside of my sail cover.

Now, many of the boats in my marina came out of the water for the hurricane. I decided not to go that route. Tidewater, my marina, cited on their Facebook page an MIT study that found it is safer to keep your boat ashore than in the water during a hurricane.

I don't necessarily disagree with that. Or maybe I do. One of the ladies in the office here said to me a couple days ago, "but what if it comes up the Bay?"

Well, that's what insurance is for when it comes right down to it. If the hurricane comes up the Bay, you're pretty much screwed whether you're ashore or in the water in my mind.

I did, however, wake up at 8 a.m. this morning and decide, for no apparent reason that I wanted more fenders:

I called my dad from the car after I made the $143 purchase of one large fender, one smaller fender and two double-braided fender lines. His response?

"Good girl."

I also bungeed my grill shut. I suppose it's recommended that you take it off the boat, but it's not like I have a garage where I can put stuff and my dock box is pretty full of genoa just now.

The final precaution I took was doubling all my lines. I doubled the bow line, stern line and spring lines.

I think I'm as ready as I can be. I had crabs for dinner last night. I'm going to a hurricane party tonight. Misty will ride out the hurricane, just as she has ridden out hurricanes for nearly 30 years.

Either that or I'll be homeless come Monday...

Anticipating the unexpected...

So it looks like Baltimore is going to be hit by Hurricane Irene this weekend. Weather reports are still sketchy, but at the very least we will get some high winds and rain, according to the weathermen.

I don't claim to be an expert on hurricane preparedness on boats, but when I lived in Washington, D.C., I was required to file a hurricane plan (including location of extra lines and fenders) which is what initially got me thinking about and researching hurricane preparedness. That and Ida, which hit the first year I lived aboard.

Here in the Chesapeake Bay we don't frequently see the effects of hurricanes beyond what's expected for this weekend: high winds, some possible flooding, high tides and lots and lots of rain.

Rain and high water aren't so much a problem for me since I am docked at a floating dock. The dock will just rise as the water rises. And so will Misty Rose. The problem comes with the high winds. High winds cause large waves, which if your boat is not tied up properly can cause serious problems -- like hull damage.

Tidewater, which is where I live, posted on their Facebook page today that they recommend boat owners consider taking their sails off and removing canvas coverings.

Unless the forecast gets a whole lot more serious, I won't be removing my sails. They are a lot of work to get off and get folded and I don't really want to have to do that. So without further ado, here is my list of hurricane preparations:

1. Make sure genoa is tightly rolled to the roller furler and tied down. 
2. Double bow line (mine has a tendency to rub in the chock and wear down).
3. Check all dock lines. Add extra lines where necessary.
4. Rehang all fenders so that they will stay between the boat and the dock.
5. Pump bilge (yes -- I am still pumping the bilge by hand!)
6. Dog down all hatches (it only takes one hatch partially open to cause a flood -- trust me, I've been there!)

And of course my final step -- head for the hills! When Ida hit I was incredibly seasick. I don't particularly have a mind to do that again, so I'll be heading over to the boyfriend's. Normally we split our weekends between his house and the boat, but this weekend we're definitely planning to hang out at his place!

SOURCE: Graphic from weather.com.

The 50th post -- where does the time go?

Spring is here and I find myself with an entirely new dilemma for my 50th post at Diary of a Liveaboard -- lack of time.

In the past, I held jobs that allowed for time to work on the boat. Jobs that weren't at least an hour away. Jobs that... well... weren't paid by the hour solely for the purpose of making me feel guilty about not working them. 

So after four months of unemployment this winter, I elected to take a 32-hour-a-week secretary job at a church an hour away and a supplemental job as a copy-editor for a Capitol Hill publication in Washington, D.C. -- an hour in the opposite direction. 

And I had to buy a new car, which only makes me want to work more (in my copious spare time I am copy-editing a book that the Capitol Hill publication I work with publishes every two years). 

So I now face dilemma that boat owners the world over must also face: I have no time to work on my boat! It's just killing me! I'm keeping up with the cleaning for the most part. That's no so bad. But measuring the floor for parquet? Putting the sails back on? Scrubbing the boat? Painting the bottom? 

I just don't know! How do you other boat owners find time to do all of this? I think I'll have some free weekends in May. I hope I have some free weekends in May. But jeez. For the time being all I see is the marina launching boats and painting bottoms and generally being industrious.

I guess one solution is to pay the marina to paint the boat bottom and scrape the barnacles and replace the floor. But pay someone to do something I could do myself? I just don't know about that.

So, fellow boat people, what are your solutions to this distressing dilemma? Where do you find the time?!

The arrival of an old friend...

Well, folks, today is the first day of spring, and I could not be any more giddy. (Well, maybe if it was 70 degrees outside and I had an old-fashioned Baltimore snowball in my hand...)

This was my first real winter aboard. I made it through the entire winter (with an occasional night at my parents' house or a friend's house) on Misty Rose -- and I lived to tell the tale! Last winter I wussed out and spent almost two months at my parents' house with blizzards and sickness. But this year, I managed to make it through. I didn't fall in and become a victim of the dreaded ice. No, readers, I made it with an electric blanket, two West Marine heaters, a down blaket, a faux Snuggie, some hiking socks and fleece pants, countless cups of tea and the kindness of the staff at Tidewater, who moved me to the sheltered dock close to the bathrooms for the duration.

Baltimore is starting to get warm, and you boaters out there know what that means -- work time!

Projects planned for my spring haulout include: replacing the floor inside the cabin salon, painting the bottom, painting the non-skid portions of the deck, re-varnishing the door boards, caulking the port holes, replacing some lines and cleats that aren't working well and, of course, going sailing!

Jeez, I'm tired just thinking about it all. Maybe we should stay with this whole winter thing for a couple more weeks...

The haul-out...

So in my last entry about the horrific nightmare that is winterization, I mentioned that I was having my boat hauled out by the marina.

Well Wednesday morning it happened. I was on "flex" as I live in the marina and wasn't too worried about when they'd get to me. I got up early just in case I ended up with one of the first slots and wandered up to the marina office and discovered that Misty would be hauled out at 10:15 a.m. I could live with that. I went back down to the boat to make coffee, have some cereal and get my camera ready. I'd never seen Misty out of the water before. The last time she'd been out of the water, about two years before, I had been away at school and hadn't really wanted much to do with the boat. (I feel guilty sitting in that same boat typing this now -- sorry, Misty!)

Anyway, 10:15 rolled around and coffee in hand, I stepped out to meet the yard guys, who wanted to know if I wanted to drive the boat over or be towed. I wanted to be towed. I wanted to take pictures. Plus I was super nervous. After asking very thorough questions about the location of my keel (fin) and the location of my stuffing box (just ahead of the wheel) and my knot meter (nooooo clue), the guys were ready to tow my boat over and haul her out.



Basically what happens, for the uninitiated, is that they tow the boat to a patch of water with concrete dock on three sides. A large sling apparatus can be driven onto the parallel sides of the dock and a sling can be pulled underneath the boat. Then the boat is lifted up and the slings are driven onto solid ground. I just did a short haul, so the boat stayed in the slings. If I'd been coming out for winter storage, they would have used blocks to brace the boat from the sides and stand her on her keel. But we'll talk more about that later.



I was actually surprised at the lack of barnacles. Sure, she was a little scummy, but not heavily covered in barnacles. This was a good sign.



The marina guys gave Misty a good and thorough power washing (have I mentioned I love this boatyard?) And changed the zinc for me. I'd offered to do the zinc myself, but you can't do any work on your boat when she's in the slings. Liability issue or something. Remember how I talked about winter storage? Putting the boat on blocks? Well whoever painted Misty last was very very lazy. That square block of lighter paint on the bottom? That's where the last boatyard we used didn't move the blocks to paint underneath them. Come spring I'll do the bottom painting myself. Yeesh.



In this picture, you can see the propeller clearly. The knob above the propeller on the shaft is the zinc. Zinc is what's called a "sacrificial." Basically, the zinc is there so that rust will eat the cheap piece of zinc and not the expensive-to-replace propeller. They unscrewed the old one and replaced the new. Zinc, in a boat heavily used, should be replaced once or twice a year. Three times is a little excessive. Twice is extra safe. Once is fine. Doing it less than once a year is not recommended. Of course we've never done that. Ahem.



Anyway, once she was all scrubbed and zinc'd, they dropped her back in the water and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

It's funny. I see the same guys sling boats in and out of the water without mishap every day. But when it's your boat? I don't think anyone could help but worry...

There's no place like home...

Well, folks, I just got back from a gloriously relaxing and rejuvenating weekend with my friends on the beach in Virginia. We actually stayed in a town on the Bay called White Stone. I checked? Three days minimum to sail there. Too bad we didn't have the time! It was a beautiful weekend with perfect perfect weather. Steady, light breeze every day and lots of nice warm sun.

I feel so relaxed right now, but I can't tell you how nice it is to be home. I set out my beach chair when I got here, and I've been sitting on the dock watching the sunset ever since.



I guess it really is like they say. It's very nice to go traveling. But it's oh so nice to come home...

The neighborhood....

So a couple of weeks ago I set out to leave Oak Harbor Marina in Pasadena and head to Baltimore. Since I'm working in Baltimore full time now, I figured that living there would not only save on gas money since the commute from Oak Harbor sucked, but I'd also get to live in Baltimore, my favorite place on earth.

So I called around to all the marinas in Baltimore and kept a list of pros and cons on each marina. Categories included: Price, Internet access, location of bathrooms/niceness of bathrooms and overall location.

Tidewater Marina won in most categories. They have no Internet, but are significantly cheaper than most and were offering a slip close to the very nice bathhouse. Sold! Dad called Oak Harbor and they easily were able to rent our slip out (which meant we got our deposit for the 2010 season back -- to go straight into the range fund.)

I shanghaied yet another unsuspecting crew -- this time my dad and my boyfriend Jon. That's Jon in the center of the picture... and my dad's rear end off to the left there. Hi dad!

We actually had a beautiful trip. It was warm and the wind was blowing over our beam the whole time, so we were able to reach right into Baltimore. Overall it was exceedingly pleasant.



But now to the point of my post. In addition to being my home, Tidewater is a serious boatyard in a very industrial piece of the harbor. Want to see my new neighbors? Coincidentally, Jon snapped all of the pictures in this post since I left my camera home (well, I took the picture of him and he took the rest):





My other new neighbors? The cruise ships. It's like living in a row house in the middle of mansion-land...