A storm of epic proportions

I decided at the start of this trip that I was going to do my best to be honest about our experiences and give you a real feel of what this cruising lifestyle is like for us. Here you go.

I apologize in advance because this is going to be a long story. What I am about to write is true. It takes place on our boat. There are two people involved who are generally prepared for just about anything that comes their way. This is one of the few events that these two people (Brenda and myself) were truly unprepared for. Mom, if you are reading this, you may want to stop now. This is utterly disturbing, scary, and again completely true.

I am going to preface this story with a little bit of boating info and one of the big differences between sailing in Canada and sailing throughout the Puget Sound. This little bit of trivia has to do with human waste. On a boat, as in everyday life, some business has to take place. I call it “big business that takes place in the big house”. Some people call it potty-time, dropping the kids off at the pool, private time, call it what you want, it's a fact of life, and it's poop. On a boat, just like in RV's, there are tanks that hold your “big business” until there is a spot to dispose of said business.

In the Puget Sound, just about every marina has what is called a “pump-out” station and it does just what the name says. It pumps out your tank of “big business”. It's a miracle in the boating world because it's free. In Canada, there are very few pump-outs in existence and the couple that we have seen cost money. Most boats in Canada, as well as most coastal Canadian towns, just flush and watch their big business float away.

We have a valve on our boat that directs the big business either into our holding tank or overboard. When we are anchored in a bay, we keep the valve turned to divert the big business into our holding tank. For me, it's a matter of principle. I don't want to pollute the bay and also, it's my business and nobody needs to know if I had corn for dinner. When we leave the bay and are in the big ocean, we will turn the valve and turn on a pump that sends the business on its way. Well, a few days ago our pump died. I shouldn't say that it died but rather it never worked. I installed a new pump about 6 years ago when we re-plumbed the boat but since we were in the Puget Sound and there are pump-out stations everywhere, we never had the need to send our business overboard via the pump. Now that we are in Canada and don't have access to pump-out stations, we need that pump to work.

We now have a full holding tank and the pump doesn't pump. The motor turns on but the internal parts of the pump are actually missing (I find this out later after I have tried to fix the pump). Since our pump doesn't pump, we find a town with a pump-out station and pay our fee to pump out our tank. Problem solved for the moment. To my amazement, we find a new pump at a hardware store and plan on swapping it out when we get a free moment. At this point, we are just like every other boat in Canada and are sending our big business out to sea so we can keep our holding tank empty until we can swap the pump.

Back to the storm of epic proportions. I am going to preface this part of the story by saying there will be some foul language at play. Mom, if you are still reading this, I am sorry, I warned you to stop earlier. Also, I am going to tell you a little bit about myself that you may or may not know. I told you this was a long story, but you are still reading so it's your own fault for wasting all of this time. Anyway, I don't swear. I never have. For some reason all of the nasty little 4 letter words in existence will generally not pass my lips. I can count the times in my life when I have sworn on one hand. I was really mad and/or scared each time. I don't generally get too terribly mad and/or scared so these were all really a big deal. I am not offended by swearing. Some of my best friends can't make it through an 8 word sentence without 7 of those words being swearing. The words just don't come out of my mouth. This storm elicited a slew of curse words past my lips that may or may not ever happen again.

Mom, stop now...for real...I am serious. This is about to get real. I feel that I need to give a word for word playback of how this storm played out. It's the only way that you can fully appreciate the gravity of the storm as well as the fear and anger that was upon us.

So, I told you about our pump. I also told you that we paid our fee and we pumped out our holding tank. What I didn't tell you is that even though you pump everything out of your tank that the mighty pump-out will pump out, it doesn't get everything out. I know this tid-bit of info but since I can't see into this tank, I don't know how much is left inside of it. My assumption is that there is just a tiny bit left in the bottom of the tank. Why does this matter you ask? Well, the new pump that we have to install is connected to the bottom of this tank. My thinking is that I can take off the old pump and slap the new one on real-quick-like and boom...it's done...maybe just a little dribble out of the tank.

So off I go. Removing the old pump. As soon as the last bolt holding it in place is removed, a storm of epic proportions happens. H-O-L-Y FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!!! A SHIT STORM!!! In the matter of about 2 seconds, my lifetime swear tally has doubled. In our tank, there is apparently about 5-6 gallons of sewage left after you pump out the tank with the mighty pump-out. This is now sprayed all over the bottom of the boat. Imagine a 5 gallon bucket filled with raw sewage and pour it on your carpet, then pour some on your clothes, then on the blanket that happens to be about 5 feet away, then while you are at it you might as well put some in your hair, and what the heck...dribble some on your cheek. Not fun at all. I actually had to struggle to not vomit profusely.

We have now ripped out the carpet, gone through a few gallons of bleach while cleaning, done a ton of laundry at a real laundromat (our boat washing machine wouldn't cut it for this mess), and are in Nanaimo waiting for the carpet store to open tomorrow.

This boating life is fun. It's the first time since we quit working that we both said to each other “I'd rather be working”.