The Waiting Game

As of this morning we've been in the yard, with the boat on dry land, for exactly one week. Unfortunately, we've got a few more days to go. We'll actually be done with our steering repair this afternoon at around 4:15, but the yard we are at works on a tight schedule and at precisely 4 pm, the bell rings and the place clears out faster than the port-a-potty at a chili cook-off competition (as a former construction worker who's generally had only one option for his daily big business, I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt, you don't want to stay in a port-a-potty any longer than is absolutely necessary...get it done and get out). And since 4pm is the start of a 3 day weekend, we've got 3 more days to wait.

I've never had a job that ran by a bell. At 7:30 am the bell rings and workers scurry to start their day, at 9 am the bell rings and everything comes to a screeching halt for 10 minutes, at 11:30 the bell rings and lunch happens for exactly ½ an hour, at 2 pm another bell for another 10 minute break, and at precisely 4pm the last bell signals a ghost town. By 4:01 this place is empty except for us. The lone boaters, living on a boat that is living on stands in a concrete parking space.

Every job I've ever had was dictated by the work needing to be done. Sure, there was a general starting time, but other than that, I worked until the task at hand was finished. If I was hungry and at a good spot to take a break, I ate. I did my daily big business in the port-a-potty when nature called, not by the sound of a bell. I would go home when I got enough things done to feel like I put in an honest days work, and that was that. Sometimes those days were 16 hours long for weeks on end, and sometimes I just went skiing. I know that the majority of people punch a time clock and that's normal life, I've just never been around it. It seems strange to a guy who can't schedule himself out of a box anymore (me). Nowadays, we are scheduling around weather and tides, night watch shifts, and the time it takes for paint or fiberglass to dry before I can put on another coat.

Yesterday we finally got our rudder back into the boat after some trial and error with a couple of new bushings. As much of a pain in the butt this little repair job has been, we are thrilled that it is getting done.

We had a miserable trip down the coast, partly due to nasty waves and weather, but more than anything, it was because there was a constant thought in the back of my head that our steering might fail and we would have to figure out how to somehow make it back to shore with a boat that didn't go where we wanted it to go. It's amazing how your mood can go downhill when there is a lingering thought of impending disaster running around in the back of your mind. It will be extremely nice to not be thinking about that anymore. Now we'll be able to complain entirely about the wind, waves, lack of sleep, and pretty soon, relentless Mexican sun that will make us wonder why we left the mild climate of the beautiful Northwest.

Now that the rudder is back in the boat and the steering system is all hooked back up, the real waiting game begins. I can do roughly 5 minutes of work laying down fiberglass, or paint, or epoxy, and then it's time to twiddle my thumbs until it dries enough for the next process to begin. If I could just do one thing and then go right to the next step, we could have the boat back together in about an hour, instead it will be 2 days of toxic fumes, sanding, re-coating, painting, and on and on and on. But like I said before, we are thrilled to be getting this done.

As much fun as it is to be living in the boat yard, we are excited to be getting out of here in a few days. There are a number of boats from the Northwest that have pulled into San Francisco on their way south with the goal of Mexcio and beyond. And we want to join the fun. We know of 5 boats from our former marina in Seattle that are here and we have met another bunch of boats as we were sailing down the coast that we would like to reunite with. We all have battle stories from our time at sea that need to be told and who doesn't like listening to battle stories. I know I do.

If you aren't a sailor from the Northwest, our trip down the coast to San Francisco may not seem like that big of a deal. Trust me, for those of us who have made it here, it is. It's roughly 1,000 miles of open ocean that for many sailors is the roughest stretch of ocean they will encounter in their entire trip around the world. It's also some of the first big water sailing that many Northwest sailors ever encounter. It's grueling, unforgiving, and also where a lot of people decide whether or not they can continue on.

We know of a few different boats who left Seattle with dreams of sailing around the world, only to give up in San Francisco because their trip here was more than either they or their boat could handle. We know of one couple that made it down the coast but was so beaten up by gale after gale, that when they got to San Fran, they drove their boat straight to a sales dock, stepped off the boat, handed over the keys to the salesperson, and have not set foot on a boat since.

Before we made it down here, I always had the thought in the back of my mind that those people were a bunch of weenies. I of course wouldn't have said it straight to their face, but the whole time I was listening to their story I was thinking in my head, “give me a break...it couldn't be that rough...you are a couple of weenies.” Now that we have made it, I can sympathize. It wasn't easy, and for us it wasn't a fun trip. There were moments of magic that made it worth while, but overall, I would give the trip a big thumbs down. I think it would have been much more enjoyable if our steering was working and not plaguing my mind, but it wasn't and it did. The steering was the fly in the ointment that unfortunately heightened my misery and affected everything else.

But now we are here and life is almost grand again. When we are finally floating and reunited with our friends, telling battle stories from our time at sea, all will be right in the world for us. But for now, we wait. I've got 2 more hours before I can start sanding and then start painting. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

For our friends and fellow sailors who have pulled into San Francisco from the great Northwest, congratulations on a job well done! It's actually a big deal. Nice job!

Brenda has all the proper safety gear on while she is working on the boat.  Gloves, respirator, and OSHA approved flip-flops.

Our good friend Caleb is machining us some new bushings.

The good news is that there is a rudder back in the boat.  The bad news is that it's the wrong rudder (that was a joke.  It's the right rudder).