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!

Winter is coming...

It's not even mid-November and already we've had two overnight frosts. What does this mean, readers? You guessed it. It's time to think about my least favorite part of living aboard. Winterization.

There's a lot of things I dislike about winterization. For one, it means that there is no more sailing until spring. For another, it means winter is here. And who likes winter? Finally, it means that there is an opportunity for really scary things to happen. Things like the engine block cracking because the engine wasn't winterized properly.

I have nightmares about that last one. Seriously.

So I've compiled a list of things that need to be done before winter well and truly sets in:

1. Have the marina haul Misty, scrape the barnacles of the bottom and replace the zinc.
2. Winterize the engine.
3. Figure out what to do with the dinghy.
4. Change out summer clothes for winter clothes.
5. Start obsessively buying water. And propane. And beans and rice. In case there's a blizzard. Or in case you're an irrational worrier like me.
6. Lay in a stock of antifreeze to winterize the head and the water tank in case I have to leave for an extended time.
7. Buy a second space heater from West Marine.
8. Stop dilly-dallying and buy and install the range already.
9. Buy slippers.

So you can see some of these things are slightly more challenging than others. For instance, buying slippers is much more difficult than choosing a range. Or not.

I went in to talk to the marina staff (who are incredibly helpful and nice, by the way) last week. They agreed to do the short haul and work and haul my sad, sorry little dinghy out of the water in place of my haul-out and blocking. This didn't make sense to me at first until I learned that they include a haul-out and blocking at a significantly reduced rate to the lease and that paying for a short haul is still more expensive than what I payed for my original haul-out and blocking. If that doesn't make sense to you, try not to worry about it too much. It took me a while, too. Anyway, the short haul is coming on Wednesday.

And come hell or high water I'm going to measure for a propane locker or CNG tank today and try to order the range this week. Or at least by next week...

It's all about getting ahead...

Oh yes. It's every boat owner's nightmare. A broken head. This spring, upon opening the seacock for the seawater intake that provides the water for flushing, I discovered, much to my horror that something -- and I'm sure only God knows exactly what -- had somehow broken in the head.

Oh it would pump dry. But water would not come in. I died a little inside. When the dial was turned to "flush," the handle would become almost impossible to push down and no water would appear in the bowl. I almost cried a little bit. Almost. OK, maybe one tear. Don't judge.

Anyway, once my serious panic had subsided, my dad mentioned that some guy in the boatyard had said that pump repair kits could be bought and that it would likely solve my problem.

Pump repair kits? Yeah, they cost $75 for a Raritan head -- which is, of course, what I have. Just so you know. And the Golden Anchor coupon I'd gotten from US SAILING and had been saving? It was expired.

So I gritted my teeth and paid full price. When I finally got the courage to open the little plastic box on Saturday, I was relieved to find instructions. And I was not so relieved to discover a large amount of strange parts never mentioned in the instructions.



That's the box, sitting on the head. See that red thing? I never used it. No clue what it's for. But you can bet that at $75 I saved the darn thing.


The first thing you do is close the seacock and take the handle arm apart. The instructions are very specific that before beginning work you should CLOSE THE SEACOCK. No sweat. Then it gets scary. It involved a 7/8" deep well socket (don't even bother going to Wal Mart, all they have is metric.) It involved taking a cap off and putting in new rubber and plastic bits.



It involved a new black rubber ball, the function of which I can only guess at.

And finally it included "Raritan Super Lube." Get your mind out of the gutter. I smeared that stuff all over the part of the pump that moves (I'm pushing on it in the second picture) , reattached the handle, opened the seacock again and pumped -- and darned if it didn't start flushing like a champ!

I may not know a thing about marine electronics, but I can sure do some plumbing with the right tools and a well-thought-out chart. First the seaweed and now the head pump? I'm unstoppable.

At least until something else breaks.