Departure

Much has happened in the last few weeks, and much more is soon to come. I graduated, went aloft on a tall ship, made love to a hanging knee, met a dude who rides a horse to his neighbor's house 5 miles away to check his email, and got my first professional shipwright's job painting a boat down in the boatyard.

Graduation was a very formal event, which started with Christine playing "Pomp and Circumstance" on the "trench mortar". We had no idea she had been conscripted, so it was a pleasant surprise.  

It was so formal, in fact, that Ben actually put on a clean shirt and hat. Im fairly sure these were standard issue carharts, however. A potluck ensued after the awarding of diplomas. Liz and i hung out long enough to scarf down some food, make protracted goodbyes, and then we hopped in the 'bru and made for Aberdeen. She was to begin her shipwright's job aboard the Lady Washington, and i was there to volunteer for a few days before returning to wrap life up in Port Hadlock.

When we showed up, the topmasts and yards had already been removed, and there was limited need to go up the stick to take things down; however, Liz did have to climb the "spaghetti monster" to free a line. She basically climbed shrouds that were very loosely attached and wiggled all over with each step. Looked pretty crazy from where i was standing. Then it was my turn to go up on the Hawaiian Chieftain. This ship works in tandem with the Lady Washington for historical education programming. Liz certified me to go up the rig, and helped me over the dreaded "futtock" or platform. 

So, the deal is, you climb the shrouds just like a ladder, and then you clip the lanyard on your harness on the curvy line you see coming down from the platform. No problem so far. Now, you climb up the "ladder" that is leaning back into you at a 45 degree angle, and up onto the platform. "What the hell???" you ask. Yeah, that's what i said when Liz told me what to do. Then i said a few other choice things, then i wet myself, then i started climbing. And then, after i made it up, i took a deep breath and tried to stop shaking. I started shaking again when i realized i had to do it all in reverse. You know the feeling of being on the roof and waving your foot round looking for the top rung of the ladder? Like that but 50' up on a ladder made of noodles. I made it, and then we walked out onto a yard arm. It was nothing compared to the dreaded futtock, but i was still standing on a wiggly footrope leaning forward over a big stick. Between zip lines and rappelling in Mexico, and going aloft in Aberdeen, i think i have mostly conquered my fear of heights.

After this crazy day, i chose the "saltiest" berth i could on the boat. This enormous chunk of wood is called a "hanging knee" and is only one of many that help hold the deck structure up. I cuddled with it all night, and only hit my head about 19 times in the wee hours of the morning while adjusting my fuzzy sleeping bag. YES. I said fuzzy, because June is called June-uary here. I have had on either the clean or filthy black sweater every single day for 10 months. I kid you not. I told this to Dad on Father's day, and he said, "That's fixin' to change. Its about 90 here." Im ok with that. (For a day or two.)

Monday morning the shipwrights showed up, and we started digging into the planking on the boat to cut out any rot that may have found its way into the frames. I couldn't believe how big the timbers were. 8" of wood and then 8" of air. 8" frames 16" on center. Built like a tank. Unless it rots. Hence the tearing out.

This is the guy who rides a horse to his neighbor's.(Yes, he's wearing period correct slops). He also is the traditional blacksmith who made all of the edge weapons for all of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. Turns out, he's the nicest, most interesting dude on the planet. I had a blast getting to know him. He's hanging out with "Tiller" the ship's dog.

I got home Monday afternoon, took a nap, and settled into 2 days of drawing wrap up for the house i've been working on. Now i have to go down to the boat yard to paint tomorrow morning. Secret Ninja Ray recommended me to a woman in the port, and i couldn't say no to a paying gig. I probably should have cause i'm plumb tuckered out. I gave myself a few days to pack, which may allow a bit of time to ride around and see all of my old haunts one last time. Like the QFC parking lot and the marina. Ok. That took 5 minutes. I guess i'll take a break on Sunday before the big shove off Monday morning.

Its been quite a treat here in my salty fairy land. I feel like the luckiest dude on earth to get to have such an amazing midlife crisis, and would sincerely like to thank all of the folks who have supported my harebrained schemes and silly-ass dreams. Thanks--you know who you are.

Signing off, probably until the momster and i hit a hotel room in the desert. Needles California, here we come!

Winter in a SMALLER hobbit hole

As of October, I will officially be a Shipwright's Apprentice at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michael's, MD. For all of you who thought i had officially gone to the dogs and decided to just quit working forever, fear not. Its a (nominally) paid position with responsibilities including, but not limited to: cleaning and painting bilges, walking Rosie the shop dog, maintaining and restoring the floating fleet of historical vessels large and small, as well as interacting with the public in an educational way. The boat shop is a working exhibit, so when a 10 year old kid asks "what's that funny looking chisel?" i tell him its a corking iron and that I'm using it to drive cotton into the seams of some beautiful, rotten, leaky old hulk that we're trying to keep off the bottom.

"Nominally paid" means i can either buy housing or food, but not both, so i have opted to stay on my 23' sailboat at anchor through a Baltimore winter. I'll be across the bay during the week and home on the weekends, so I'll at least be able to shower, warm up, and do some laundry. During the week, I'll be colder than shit. And this time, i won't be able to stand up straight unless i go outside.

That's why i contracted my brother at "K-novel Inc." to build me a bad ass wood stove out of $20 worth of scrap steel. Feast your eyes upon this beauty. Design inspiration by some old English dude with a fish boat on YouTube.

It mounts to the mast step on the inside, and the flue goes through the deck, as per usual in a marine stove application. Not particularly looking forward to cutting a 5" hole in the lid of my boat, but its gotta be done. My brother stayed awake at night ensuring that i would have a smoke free environment, and swore if this boat ever sank, somebody was diving after this thing. So far, the tally is about $20 for steel and $400 for beer.

I have been assured that one load of wood will burn for about 2 hours, and its so hot, I'll probably burst into flames (especially if i have been using Bondo in the shop). I nearly choked to death the other day trying to light a "proper" vintage marine stove on a friend's boat, so I'm pretty excited about the smokeless K-novel model. Check out the prices on the competitor's website:
http://www.marinestove.com/sardineinfo.htm
ONLY a thousand bucks. Hell, I'll take two.

Taking orders now. K-novel Marine has a blue light special on wood stoves...Aisle 4.