Sunday, August 8, 2004
Same Place
After my last article, many of you contracted me to make sure I was okay. I am . . . Really . . . Believe me. But, thanks for your concern. Carl, our boating friend from Las Vegas summed it up best in our guestbook. For reference, here’s a quote:
“I read your last post to the log. Don’t get too discouraged. When you get blue, let me give you an update from Nevada to ponder: it’s 116 in the shade of my porch; the grass needs mowing but I’m hot and tired (went to work at 4:30 a.m. and got home a lttle after 5 in the afternoon; the dog peed on the carpet; got my elctric bill in the mail ($260); and I haven’t been to the lake in three weeks. If you want to swap places, I will come sit on the boat and wait for the new engine. I don’t think you do. So, open up a cheap beer, pet the cat, play with Binga and ENJOY!”
Thanks Carl. For the record, I totally agree. And you are also right, I don’t want to switch. But, just to be sure, we’ll insert a new rule here. It is based on an old sailing cliche, updated to fit our personal situation:
Rule #3: This is Great, No Matter What. Any day sitting on an engineless boat that isn’t even in the water with too much work to do while drinking cheap beer BEATS THE HELL out of sitting in 115 degree heat all day, only to get dressed (in black clothes mind you) and get in a car that sat in the scorching sun all day to drive in push-and-shove traffic to work where there are way too many tourist pushing-and-shoving and asking the same tourist questions over-and-over again, waiting until it is over so I can go home to pay the mortgage, the car payment, and the bills and go to bed so I can get up and do it over again tomorrow. The original and abridged version goes something like “a bad day of boating beats a great day at work.” But my version is much more personal and fits me better.
After I wrote and posted my last article, I had a few cups of coffee and the morning haze cleared. A deep breath. Everything is good. I’m still a cruiser. Time to get back to cruising. Focus. Direction. Action. I started. A simple phone call revealed that the engine shipped on Monday, so everthing is in play. All will be fine . . . or so I would think.
The cruising life is idillic, but it is not with out it’s stresses. It is a small price to pay for living the lifestyle. However, in certain moments of weakness, things can seem over whelming. Just doing simple tasks takes time. Another rule? Perhaps . . . Yes, let’s.
Rule #4: Easy Mean Exponentially Exponential. In other words, if a task you are planning will take just ten minutes, that means plan on all day. Take the engine for example. A week is turning into a whole month. The boat’s shaft log, is another fine example of cruising life efficiency. The prop shaft exits the hull through this flanged bronze tube, which houses a cutlass bearing the shaft turns in. I have to remove it and reset it when I install the new engine, as it is easier and quicker to reset than trying to line a new engine up with the old engine’s shaft angle. No problem, just remove the log, clean it up, and reinstall it with the new engine. Easy ten minute job to remove it. Right?
Not me. I like practice, which means I have to do things four or five times to before I finally learn my lesson. This is my second go around with this log, so I have a few of more times to go before I have get it right. Last time, I left the internal bearing sticking out some to facilitate removal this time, as its is extremely difficult to extract from the log. However, I didn’t want to remove it. I wanted it to stay in there. I wanted to remove the whole assembly intact. But the log wouldn’t come out and, after beating on it for an hour with a hammer, I slipped and bent the bearing. “Ooops. Okay, well, no problem, I’ll remove it later and get a new one – no real harm done. Now I can pound on this thing harder.” Another hour and the log finally let go and came out.
Day 2 – I found that the log, which is bronze (i.e. soft), had taken quite a beating (hmm, imagine that) and the end had caved in slightly, holding the already held tight bearing in place. No problem, I’ll just cut the bearing out and use the dremel to clean up the log – easy. After five hours and two broken screwdrivers, I found myself staring at the log that was firmly holding on to one completely mangled cutlass bearing and two additional screw drivers. Feeling like both Laurel AND Hardy, I decided that what I needed was a bigger hammer. I found one and promptly bent the flange that bolts the log assembly to the hull. “#$%@! Oh, @#$* I can believe this @#$^*&!” and other choice phases expressed my immense displeasure. There was only one thing left to do: Throw it!
As the shaft log made it’s flight across the yard, I stopped my maniacle rantings long enough to see Vanessa and Binga staring at me with a certain look of amazement. Binga came over. “Angry Dada?” she said with an uncertain look on her face.
I bent down and tried to explain, “Yes, Binga. Please understand. I’m not mad at you, I’m just . . .”
Smack! She puched me dead in the left cheek and said, “No Dada. Naughty!”
Well, shit. What can I say, my infantile actions scolded by my infant who’s growing up too fast? And what was I going to do, I just ruined our shaft log? That is another who-knows-how-much of an expence that is completely unnecessary. Receiving no simpathy from my kid, I called my buddy Pat in Florida, who has spent the past few years rebuilding his Westsail – and is still at it. If anyone would know what to do, it would be him – he redoes everthing almost as many times as I do, which makes him an expert. Besides, misery loves company. Pat not only provided me with options, he also offered up a new rule.
Rule #5: If You are Gonna Throw It, Throw It Away. “What the hell is the matter with you. You know when you throw something, you don’t throw it where you can still see it, you throw it in the water, or at least in a dumpster,” he laughed.
“I knew you’d understand,” I replied.
“Yeah, I threw quite a few things during my restoration project. You’ll be all right.”
“Yeah, but the difference is you can afford to provision with better beer.”
“Yes, but at least you still have beer.”
“Yeah, that’s true . . . By the way, my kid punched me.”
“I’m sure you deserved it. Let me know if you need anything else. Kiss that kid for me.”
Another breath . . . actually a lot of them . . . followed by a couple a ice cold cheepies, and I was back at it. I think the throw actually helped, as I was able to get the screw drivers out. Then, low and behold, the cutlass bearing, with a couple of quick hits, almost fell into my lap. I used the big hammer again to reverse the bending of the flange. I worked pretty well – you almost can’t see the cracks from the bend anymore and it is sort of straight! I used the dremel tool and the log cleaned up pretty well. Not new, but it will work just fine – maybe. I’m still thinking about it. Plus, I still have to get a new cutlass bearing into it, which could be worth a whole other article in itself. But, at least after eighteen hours, four beers, and a whole bunch of cussing, it is done. See, just like I said – easy.
Yup, Carl is right. This still beats working for a living. Thanks Carl.
– Steve