Month: August 2012

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This and That

What the heck have we been doing all summer? Bet that is the number one question that y’all have. Right. Mostly a little of this and a little of that. And very little lounging about. Today and yesterday weren’t exactly lounging about days, but they contained no major chores. All the little ones were easy to accomplish and still have time for reading in the sun.

In terms of family time, the summer has been nearly perfect. We’ve all spent enough time together to talk, see and do what we like together, yet not so much time that we get on each other’s nerves- oh, maybe a bit perhaps.

We even found time one Friday afternoon, to take a short trip down river a few miles to Hamburg Cove. Being like turtles- no, not slow, but with our home always with us- is great. No worried about what to bring, we just cast off the lines and go.

Russ took the opportunity to scrub underneath

Benj worked 4-5 days/week at two jobs and ended with house sitting for his landscape employer. Not just house sitting, this job entailed harvesting the vegetables; caring for the goats, chickens, horse, dog and cat and mucking (cleaning) out the small barn. What to do with tons of pickling cukes, tomatoes and farm fresh eggs? How about refrigerator pickles, salsa, ratatouille, give away all you can and enjoy runny fried eggs and home fries (yes, they grew potatoes too) for breakfast. Best of all, he could milk one of the goats who was still nursing her kid.  For ages (since the 18thcentury), female goats were referred to as “nannies” and intact males as “billies”. More recently the trend among farmers is to use the term “doe” and “buck”.  ‘The Three Billy Goats Gruff” will not require a re-write- thank goodness.  Warning- goat humor- what do you call a goat swimming in the sea? Billy Ocean.  (not a Lori original)

The goats get a treat of bamboo from Benj

We brought dinner a few times, supplemented with side dishes Benj made.  The goat milking operation was fun to watch as Benj showed Sara, his evening helper how to milk the goat. She caught on right away. Sara filled in on weekends when Benj worked the POB and the couple days when Jack and Kerry visited from CA.

The doe will allow milking as long as the food holds out

Laundry; groceries; regular trips to storage, mail store, Defender, West Marine, boat cleaning and fix-it projects seem to consume a huge chunk of our “non-working” time. I thought this summer would find us with fewer projects; not so true. One fairly easy project was to set up a snubber for our bridle. This would provide stretch when anchored in windy conditions, as well as help keep the bridle away from the dolphin strikers.

New bridle snubber – test setup until we anchor “for real”

The birds have been active, swooping around carrying and dropping an interesting variety of objects. This year, at least, we didn’t have the sparrows repeatedly trying to build a nest in the end of the boom. The seagulls become active several times a day when they are dining out. One morning Russ pointed to the port bow. What the heck was it? A large slug, a huge bird turd… no it was… eeeu- the tail end section of a snake. Skinned. Pinkish.  A one inch piggy-bank coin slot cut lengthwise in its side. We figured it got dropped by a seagull, same as the piece of dead fish we found soon after, on top of the cockpit roof.  Food fight!!!!

The other day I figured out (sadly) the sound I’d heard about a week ago. I was reading (maybe I should have been scrubbing the boat) by the stern when I heard this awful, screeching sound; not high-pitched and I wasn’t sure if it was manmade or natural. I looked over toward the island where the swans, ducks, egrets and herons hang out in the marshes; didn’t see anything. Decided it might have been a heron, albeit one in some distress. Fast forward to the other day when I hear the same sound. Grab the binoculars. Ouuu- I see a hawk or osprey flying off with something in its talons. I’ll leave it at that.

Yesterday I was at my bird watching station (reading at the stern) when the seagulls began screeching; one drops his prize in the water and he and his buddy appear to be indecisive about their next move. Well, the large fish that jump and splash all day (ok, maybe just at eating time) sure knew what to do. In between grabbing the camera, trying to focus and still keeping an eye on the action, I watched as the fish snagged a few bites from below. The gull made a valiant effort to get his share, but in the end not much of the fish- or whatever it was, remained for seagull food.

Um, I think I want this.. better me than you…

Dive, Dive.. oh well, too late

Our dock is easy to live on; friendly, helpful dock neighbors who respect our privacy, much like if we lived in a house.

Nearly every night nature provides interesting views; boats and people provide a diversion and all sorts of creatures stop by for a visit.

Not well disguised for chrome, but he did find his way off eventually

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The Rule of Three

Why is it that we look for things to happen in threes?  Or stop counting after three, as in “testing, one, two, three”? Throughout the ages three is held in high regard in religious, spiritual, mathematical and daily life. Braids have three sections, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the Holy Trinity; you get the idea. Three is also the largest number written with as many lines as the number represents.

Our dock neighbors, Todo Bien have completed their set for the summer. Was kinda weird how each successive event was more worrisome than the previous.  First event was a mystery visitor who opened the canvas and set himself down at the cockpit table for lunch, leaving lettuce scraps and faint scratches on the table. Like most people, they keep their boat, a Four Winns, tied stern-to at the dock for ease of entry and socializing. After that, I noticed the cockpit table top got stored below when they left the boat.

A few weekends later they headed out further than they typically go, to New London. They joked when leaving that if they didn’t come back, to come look for them. The trip out was uneventful; however the trip back became “event #2”.  The Thames was busy that day, the day after the huge fireworks display and Todo Bien somehow lost the use of one engine. Limping back toward Old Saybrook and the mouth of the CT River, they kept closer to shore to shorten their traveling distance.  Bad idea. Somehow they managed to confirm the location of a charted rock and that took out the second engine. Didn’t hole the boat though. SeaTow brought them back home safe and more than a bit shook up.  On Monday the marina work boat came to bring Todo Biento to the travel-lift well and a week later brought her back all shipshape.

Back home- finally.

The big question was, would they be able to get back up on that horse again?  Of course. Boat ownership is costly enough without letting yours languish in the slip.

The following weekend we see owners and guests preparing to head out, most likely to Hamburg Cove. Roughly two hours later the VHF comes alive with some frantic sounding words, the local Fire & Rescue crew comes hurrying down the dock and we see a power boat zooming into the marina, clearly not obeying the no-wake signs. But hey, isn’t that the Essex police boat behind them? Uh oh, sure enough Todo Bien is heading for the fuel dock, which has become crowded with marina and rescue crew, pump out boat crew and curious boat folk.

All hands help bring her in.

Russ goes to talk with Benj- POB waits to off-load

Turns out that the owner’s wife was not fully recovered from pneumonia and, well you know what can happen when you over-do it too soon. I’m sure that outing will remain memorable for all passengers for quite some time. As though to prove the “rule of three” stops after three, Todo Bien went out for a week to Mystic and Greenport (places we love), returning with no tales of woe; even the weather cooperated. Amazing.