We went over to Rocky Point to work on the boat the other day. Before going, we stopped and bought a telescoping broom handle and special brush head that was stiff for scrubbing the hull below the waterline. The handle cost $40, but because it extended to 12 feet verses the 7 feet of most handles, we sprung for it. Same with the $10 brush head.
Our $50 ‘broom’ worked great. Evolution got her bottom scrubbed, and I’m sure she enjoyed every minute of it! However, it’s the last time she’ll enjoy it, because like the bolt off the tiller handle, the broom decided to jump ship. Yep, it’s laying at the bottom of a 25 foot deep marina.
Bob laid it down on the dock while we walked over to the restroom, and upon our return, it was gone. Now either a band of renegade cliff swallows made off with it, or it went in the drink. We highly suspect the latter. We stood there and tried to figure out how to retrieve it. I offered to hold Bob by his ankles, and dangle him over the edge until he found it. But he still wouldn’t be able to reach it, and he didn’t like that idea anyway. Go figure! He thought of lowering a strong magnet on a rope, but I reminded him that the handle is aluminum, and the head was plastic, so that wouldn't work. He even considered snorkeling down to get it, but 25 feet is pretty deep. So I guess the broom stays below.
I’m glad I didn’t drop the darn thing down there. I’d have NEVER heard the end of it. But since it was him, well you know, accidents happen, it’s no big deal.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Hey! I'm needing some advise over here....
The search for sailing lessons has begun, and there seems to be plenty around. Again, I’m faced with an amazing amount of choices. I can have a skipper work with me on my boat for $50 hr. or I can take private lessons on someone else’s boat for $33 an hour, or I can take a really in-depth class for two to three days for $350. That seems like a lot of money,... Bob never took lessons, he learned to sail by working on a boat, so he’s not offering much input in helping me decide what to do. But he is also from the old school of, "The best way to learn to ski is to stand at the top of the mountain, point your tips downhill and push off." To which my reaction would be, "Aaaaaaaahhhhh!" WHUMP! Tree. ...silence...
You know, I just don’t think this is an area to scrimp. If we’re really going to go out on the ocean, for months or years at a time, I think I should spring for the best I can find. Actually, I’m thinking of one of the full classes for $350, AND having someone come work with me, (us), on Evolution. I know Evolution is not the boat we will be on for years at a time when we are out crossing oceans. We’ll get a larger one for that. But we are planning on taking her up to Seattle and the San Juans, and depending on how she handles, we may even take her up the Inside Passage, which will take a few months. So I think having someone come on board and work with me on our boat is a good idea too. Hmmm, any suggestions? Do any of you local sailors have preferences or experience with any of these local sailing schools?
You know, I just don’t think this is an area to scrimp. If we’re really going to go out on the ocean, for months or years at a time, I think I should spring for the best I can find. Actually, I’m thinking of one of the full classes for $350, AND having someone come work with me, (us), on Evolution. I know Evolution is not the boat we will be on for years at a time when we are out crossing oceans. We’ll get a larger one for that. But we are planning on taking her up to Seattle and the San Juans, and depending on how she handles, we may even take her up the Inside Passage, which will take a few months. So I think having someone come on board and work with me on our boat is a good idea too. Hmmm, any suggestions? Do any of you local sailors have preferences or experience with any of these local sailing schools?
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Evolution on the Move
The slip at Tomahawk Bay where Evolution had been moored for the past 20+ years, was a long way from where Bob and I live, 32.4 miles give or take a foot, so we decided to move her a bit closer to home.
For our purposes, we were looking for something a bit further west. I was amazed at the number of marinas in this area. Do you realize that there are over 80 marinas on the Columbia and Willamette? And about 50 of them within a 15 mile area? There are not only a large number of marinas, but the amenities, services and prices vary greatly too. We found slips in our size range from $90 to $195. (If you'd like to know more about area marinas, you can email me, and I will share my reasearch with you.)
One marina, which shall remain nameless, after quoting us a price of $100 a month, suddenly realized he’d quoted us an incorrect price - after learning that our boat was old and still needing work. Yes, the stuffy ol’ gent ‘remembered’ the correct price was $195 a month! Well! (Humpphh!) We didn’t want to moor there anyway! Crusty ol’ fart!!! (Dang, there goes that small town hick sneaking out again!)
We did find a nice little marina, with power, water, fuel, and even a little store. Rocky Point Marina, on the Willamette channel, had it all at a great price, and it’s run by very pleasant people!
So last weekend Evolution packed her bags and said goodbye to the only home she’d ever known. She sailed quickly and easily down the river, as if she knew she was bound for exciting new adventures at last.
For our purposes, we were looking for something a bit further west. I was amazed at the number of marinas in this area. Do you realize that there are over 80 marinas on the Columbia and Willamette? And about 50 of them within a 15 mile area? There are not only a large number of marinas, but the amenities, services and prices vary greatly too. We found slips in our size range from $90 to $195. (If you'd like to know more about area marinas, you can email me, and I will share my reasearch with you.)
One marina, which shall remain nameless, after quoting us a price of $100 a month, suddenly realized he’d quoted us an incorrect price - after learning that our boat was old and still needing work. Yes, the stuffy ol’ gent ‘remembered’ the correct price was $195 a month! Well! (Humpphh!) We didn’t want to moor there anyway! Crusty ol’ fart!!! (Dang, there goes that small town hick sneaking out again!)
We did find a nice little marina, with power, water, fuel, and even a little store. Rocky Point Marina, on the Willamette channel, had it all at a great price, and it’s run by very pleasant people!
So last weekend Evolution packed her bags and said goodbye to the only home she’d ever known. She sailed quickly and easily down the river, as if she knew she was bound for exciting new adventures at last.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Lucy Re-incarnated?
Oh boy! Time to go out on the Columbia River again!
After the misadventures of Evolutions first outing, Bob and I were very careful not to act so impulsively for Evolutions second little voyage. This time, Bob made sure that we’d attached the tiller handle, removed sail covers, closed hatches, and every thing else you’re supposed to do before casting off. (sheepish grin…) But despite our best efforts, we still had problems.
We were quickly reminded that Evolution had sat idyll for many years when we put the little 10 horse Honda in reverse, and carefully backed her out of the slip. The control linkage decided to jam, and we were stuck in reverse! (Geez, why does my life always seem like an episode of the I Love Lucy show!) Well, there we were cruising along in reverse, in an area PACKED with boats, unable to get the dumb thing even into neutral. Bob quickly killed the engine, and grabbed an oar to stop our backward motion. We ended up in another slip, just two away from our own. (sigh…) But good ol’ Bob broke out the tools, and after a few minutes and a few colorful swear words, the linkage lines were working properly, and off we went.
Hoisting the sails went well, and again all the sheets and halyards worked smoothly. The only problem we had now was the deck hand, (me). I had to help with the jib sheets, and at one point, as we were trying to move it from starboard to port, the jib filled with wind unexpectedly and I felt like I couldn’t control it. It was controlling me and I began to panic. Bob calmly handed me the tiller and took the sheet from me. He let the sheet slack, which took the wind out of the jib, and then he maneuvered it somehow and set it to the port side. I have so much to learn…
Ok, and I freaked out again when we heeled WAY over to starboard too. I was sitting on the port side and it still felt like we were going to lay it down! Bob claims we were only at about a 15 or 20 degree angle. It felt closer to 45 or 50 to me! After peeling me off his chest, Bob tried to tell me that heeling was part of the fun.
“Oh, I was having fun? Well, good thing you told me, because I mistook that feeling of dread for a near death experience!”
The truth is I’m fascinated by sailing. I LOVE being on the boat. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about sailing for about a year, waiting anxiously to finally get a boat. Yet when I’m out there doing it, it can be pretty frightening at times. Trust me, I have no intention of ‘turning chicken’. I think it was Mark Twain that said, “Courage is not the lack of fear, it’s acting in spite of it.” I know I need to stick with it and turn the fear into respect. So, upon further reflection, I’ve decided that perhaps it would be best if I took sailing lessons this summer. I know Bob is a good sailor, and God knows the man is patient, but I think I’d feel better learning from someone else, someone who does it for a living. You know how it is, you never believed what your mother told you, but as soon as you heard it from someone else, it suddenly became gospel. Well, I think it might be the same with having your spouse tell you that heeling over at terrifying angles is fun. Maybe if an instructor, after peeling me off himself, is still saying it’s fun, I’ll believe him.
Anyone know a good, (and patient), instructor?
You can comment on any post by clicking the word 'comments' below.
After the misadventures of Evolutions first outing, Bob and I were very careful not to act so impulsively for Evolutions second little voyage. This time, Bob made sure that we’d attached the tiller handle, removed sail covers, closed hatches, and every thing else you’re supposed to do before casting off. (sheepish grin…) But despite our best efforts, we still had problems.
We were quickly reminded that Evolution had sat idyll for many years when we put the little 10 horse Honda in reverse, and carefully backed her out of the slip. The control linkage decided to jam, and we were stuck in reverse! (Geez, why does my life always seem like an episode of the I Love Lucy show!) Well, there we were cruising along in reverse, in an area PACKED with boats, unable to get the dumb thing even into neutral. Bob quickly killed the engine, and grabbed an oar to stop our backward motion. We ended up in another slip, just two away from our own. (sigh…) But good ol’ Bob broke out the tools, and after a few minutes and a few colorful swear words, the linkage lines were working properly, and off we went.
Hoisting the sails went well, and again all the sheets and halyards worked smoothly. The only problem we had now was the deck hand, (me). I had to help with the jib sheets, and at one point, as we were trying to move it from starboard to port, the jib filled with wind unexpectedly and I felt like I couldn’t control it. It was controlling me and I began to panic. Bob calmly handed me the tiller and took the sheet from me. He let the sheet slack, which took the wind out of the jib, and then he maneuvered it somehow and set it to the port side. I have so much to learn…
Ok, and I freaked out again when we heeled WAY over to starboard too. I was sitting on the port side and it still felt like we were going to lay it down! Bob claims we were only at about a 15 or 20 degree angle. It felt closer to 45 or 50 to me! After peeling me off his chest, Bob tried to tell me that heeling was part of the fun.
“Oh, I was having fun? Well, good thing you told me, because I mistook that feeling of dread for a near death experience!”
The truth is I’m fascinated by sailing. I LOVE being on the boat. I’ve been reading everything I can get my hands on about sailing for about a year, waiting anxiously to finally get a boat. Yet when I’m out there doing it, it can be pretty frightening at times. Trust me, I have no intention of ‘turning chicken’. I think it was Mark Twain that said, “Courage is not the lack of fear, it’s acting in spite of it.” I know I need to stick with it and turn the fear into respect. So, upon further reflection, I’ve decided that perhaps it would be best if I took sailing lessons this summer. I know Bob is a good sailor, and God knows the man is patient, but I think I’d feel better learning from someone else, someone who does it for a living. You know how it is, you never believed what your mother told you, but as soon as you heard it from someone else, it suddenly became gospel. Well, I think it might be the same with having your spouse tell you that heeling over at terrifying angles is fun. Maybe if an instructor, after peeling me off himself, is still saying it’s fun, I’ll believe him.
Anyone know a good, (and patient), instructor?
You can comment on any post by clicking the word 'comments' below.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Evolution of A First Mate
Sailing was never a goal, or even a desire, for me. Frankly, I’d just never thought about it. Heck, I’d never even been near a sailboat before. Then I met Bob, who on our first date told me he planned to retire in a few years and circumnavigate the Pacific on a sailboat. He asked if I wanted to go along. I had recently left a stagnant marriage in which excitement was limited to navigating the "isles of the grocery store", I said, "Uh,… Sure!" So Bob took on a completely unskilled, basically clueless first mate.
At the time, Bob was without a boat because we’d been living inland, but his goal for the previous three years was to get back to his home in the Portland, Oregon area, along the Columbia River, and get another boat. So the move was made and the following weekend we decided to take a break from unpacking to go walk along some docks.
We were strolling along just enjoying the day when we saw a little 25ft sailboat in a slip. It looked sad, was growing suspicious green things, and hadn't been sailed in several years. It looked abandoned and badly in need of love. There was a sign taped on its bow saying "Must Sell, Make Offer." Thinking that this might be a good size boat for me to learn on, we went back the following Saturday to take a closer look at it.
The owner’s friend and caretaker, Ann, met us at the boat. She told us that the owner, an old bachelor I’ll call Charlie, was now in a nursing home. Charlie had purchased it new in 1984 and lived on it for eight years, right there in the slip. He only took it out onto the Columbia a couple of times. Unfortunately, his health deteriorated, and he could no longer live on board so it sat idle for 12 years. It was filthy. I think I know why he had never been married. Eeeewww!
Ann told us that Charlie’s niece had put a fair amount of money into it in 2003 so that she could sell it out from under him, but it didn't work for her. Ann showed us all the invoices and receipts for the work that had been done; new sails, rigging, and wiring, work on the outboard motor and more, about $8,000 worth. But it sat for another four years after that, so it looked pretty bad. Ann said she'd had her son try to start the motor, but despite his efforts, it was dead. They were asking $8,000, but she said she'd take $5,000 because both she and Charlie really wanted it sold. It was deteriorating and they both knew it. Thinking that it was in really bad shape, Bob offered $3,000, feeling certain that they would probably decline. Well, they took it. It's funny, as soon as Ann accepted the offer, Bob and I both looked at each other like, "Oh crap, she took that fast. We just made a BIG mistake." Oh well, like it or not, that Saturday afternoon, we'd bought ourselves a Hunter 25.5 sailboat.
That evening, we talked about a name for the boat, which had never been named. I told Bob that I could really associate with that little boat, because she and I had both sat idle for many years, deteriorating, wanting to do more and be more than our present situation was offering. Then Bob came along and gave us both a new lease on life. There were changes ahead for both her and I. Changes usually don’t come fast; in fact they’re often very gradual. Bob suggested a name befitting of the situation that also identified our shared belief on a major subject. We named her Evolution.
We spent all day Sunday on Evolution cleaning her. Bob attacked the outside, (hull, decks and cockpit), with a power washer; while I attacked the inside with rubber gloves, Lysol, bleach, a razor scraper and a pretty fair amount of nausea. YUK! We braced ourselves for several weeks of cleaning and repair. We were pooped by the end of the day.
The next day, Monday, we were back at the boat bright and early. I went back to cleaning the inside, while Bob started playing with the little ten horse Honda motor. He hooked up the gas tank, and determined that the gas wasn’t getting to the motor. The cleaning inside seemed to go faster than expected, so we stopped for lunch and to go to a nearby boat store to buy new gas line fittings. When we returned, Bob put the new fittings on, and $4.94 later the motor started on the first pull! Life giving blood, (ok, gasoline,) began flowing in, and the little motor came to life. She purred like a kitten!
At the time, Bob was without a boat because we’d been living inland, but his goal for the previous three years was to get back to his home in the Portland, Oregon area, along the Columbia River, and get another boat. So the move was made and the following weekend we decided to take a break from unpacking to go walk along some docks.
We were strolling along just enjoying the day when we saw a little 25ft sailboat in a slip. It looked sad, was growing suspicious green things, and hadn't been sailed in several years. It looked abandoned and badly in need of love. There was a sign taped on its bow saying "Must Sell, Make Offer." Thinking that this might be a good size boat for me to learn on, we went back the following Saturday to take a closer look at it.
The owner’s friend and caretaker, Ann, met us at the boat. She told us that the owner, an old bachelor I’ll call Charlie, was now in a nursing home. Charlie had purchased it new in 1984 and lived on it for eight years, right there in the slip. He only took it out onto the Columbia a couple of times. Unfortunately, his health deteriorated, and he could no longer live on board so it sat idle for 12 years. It was filthy. I think I know why he had never been married. Eeeewww!
Ann told us that Charlie’s niece had put a fair amount of money into it in 2003 so that she could sell it out from under him, but it didn't work for her. Ann showed us all the invoices and receipts for the work that had been done; new sails, rigging, and wiring, work on the outboard motor and more, about $8,000 worth. But it sat for another four years after that, so it looked pretty bad. Ann said she'd had her son try to start the motor, but despite his efforts, it was dead. They were asking $8,000, but she said she'd take $5,000 because both she and Charlie really wanted it sold. It was deteriorating and they both knew it. Thinking that it was in really bad shape, Bob offered $3,000, feeling certain that they would probably decline. Well, they took it. It's funny, as soon as Ann accepted the offer, Bob and I both looked at each other like, "Oh crap, she took that fast. We just made a BIG mistake." Oh well, like it or not, that Saturday afternoon, we'd bought ourselves a Hunter 25.5 sailboat.That evening, we talked about a name for the boat, which had never been named. I told Bob that I could really associate with that little boat, because she and I had both sat idle for many years, deteriorating, wanting to do more and be more than our present situation was offering. Then Bob came along and gave us both a new lease on life. There were changes ahead for both her and I. Changes usually don’t come fast; in fact they’re often very gradual. Bob suggested a name befitting of the situation that also identified our shared belief on a major subject. We named her Evolution.
We spent all day Sunday on Evolution cleaning her. Bob attacked the outside, (hull, decks and cockpit), with a power washer; while I attacked the inside with rubber gloves, Lysol, bleach, a razor scraper and a pretty fair amount of nausea. YUK! We braced ourselves for several weeks of cleaning and repair. We were pooped by the end of the day. The next day, Monday, we were back at the boat bright and early. I went back to cleaning the inside, while Bob started playing with the little ten horse Honda motor. He hooked up the gas tank, and determined that the gas wasn’t getting to the motor. The cleaning inside seemed to go faster than expected, so we stopped for lunch and to go to a nearby boat store to buy new gas line fittings. When we returned, Bob put the new fittings on, and $4.94 later the motor started on the first pull! Life giving blood, (ok, gasoline,) began flowing in, and the little motor came to life. She purred like a kitten!
We were so excited that the motor started so easily and seemed to be running so well that we decided to take her out for a little spin. We untied all the mooring lines, gave her a shove and hopped aboard. And so began the comedy of errors.
In our haste, we forgot about a little thing called the tiller. Yep, no ability to steer. The rudder was there, but we’d neglected to attach the handle. Mistake #1. So we were headed straight backward toward the boats on the next row of slips. As Bob gingerly tried to turn the boat with only the tiny motor, I swung below to retrieve the handle for the tiller. For as small as it was, that little Honda actually pushed the boat pretty well, so we over corrected and our bow swung around toward the other boats. Mistake #2. I promptly ran to the bow and stuck my foot out to keep us from hitting someone else’s pride and joy. Mistake #3. The other boat nearly pushed me overboard, and I raked my shin on their motor. But I did keep us from crashing into it. Using body parts as a fender is not a good idea. So we were now headed stern first into our original slip. Luckily (or unluckily for Bob’s pride) another boater was nearby and watching and probably trying hard not to laugh. He came to our rescue by catching our motor and keeping it from hitting the dock. Mark, the other boater, then held the stern in place so that Bob could attach the tiller handle.
While balancing the handle across the top of the rudder, Bob unscrewed the bolt to attach the handle. Mistake #4. The bolt chose that moment to commit suicide by leaping from Bob’s hands, sinking to the bottom of the drink. Aaaarrrgh….! With the boat being held by Mark and me, Bob removed the middle bolt from the tiller and used it to attach the handle. With steering capability restored, Mark turned us loose. Despite our mistakes, we were able to motor out of the marina without further mishap and our boat still intact, although I cannot say the same for our pride.
Once we were out into the Columbia, our quick little spin turned into a nice little jaunt. There was a little more boat traffic than we would have liked, but it was fun crossing the big wakes of the powerful cabin cruisers and having the water break over the bow. We decided to motor down the river a ways away from the mass of spiffy-dressed boaters near the entrance to the marina. We even got brave enough to kick the motor out of gear and test the sails and rigging, which I am pleased to say all worked well.
However, there was a small problem when a large number of really gross, bubble-butted spiders that had taken up residence in the previously abandoned sails began blowing down and falling all around us! I HATE spiders! Needless to say that didn’t go over real well with me. I didn’t realize how small 25 feet was until I was surrounded by spiders, and there was nowhere to run! Bob was pitching spiders overboard as fast as he could in order to keep the Coast Guard from coming to see what all the blood curdling screams were about. My shrieks were so shrill that Bob claims they opened the drawbridge down river for us. Yea, sure they did.
Once the boat was spider free we had a very nice sail: blue sky, a beautiful view of Mt. Hood, and just the right amount of breeze. It was the perfect day.
But the first time Evolution heeled over, having never been on a sail-boat before, I nearly wet my pants! I’d seen pictures of boats in that position, but it just didn’t look that scary. Well, I was terrified. As I clung to the rail I looked over at Bob for reassurance. He seemed content and perfectly calm, just enjoying the cruise. He was having a great time. I figured it must be normal, so I tried to act casual and just hung on for dear life.
On the cruise back, with the wind square at our back, we even sailed wing and wing for a while. We were moving along at a pretty good clip against a strong current and in a light breeze; it was like flying! As I became more comfortable, I even began helping with the sheets and tiller. I was feeling like quite the little sailor! Yeeehaw!!!! (Oops, that’s the small town inland hick coming out in me!)
We had anticipated that it would be weeks before we would have Evolution out on the water; we were really pleased with how she handled being out for the first time in so many years. The sails went up and down smoothly, there were no leaks, and the motor ran great. As it turns out, we’ve decided that we got a REALLY good deal. The little Hunter 25.5 is out doing what she loves to do, and she and Bob are patiently teaching me the ropes.
OK, consider me hooked!
In our haste, we forgot about a little thing called the tiller. Yep, no ability to steer. The rudder was there, but we’d neglected to attach the handle. Mistake #1. So we were headed straight backward toward the boats on the next row of slips. As Bob gingerly tried to turn the boat with only the tiny motor, I swung below to retrieve the handle for the tiller. For as small as it was, that little Honda actually pushed the boat pretty well, so we over corrected and our bow swung around toward the other boats. Mistake #2. I promptly ran to the bow and stuck my foot out to keep us from hitting someone else’s pride and joy. Mistake #3. The other boat nearly pushed me overboard, and I raked my shin on their motor. But I did keep us from crashing into it. Using body parts as a fender is not a good idea. So we were now headed stern first into our original slip. Luckily (or unluckily for Bob’s pride) another boater was nearby and watching and probably trying hard not to laugh. He came to our rescue by catching our motor and keeping it from hitting the dock. Mark, the other boater, then held the stern in place so that Bob could attach the tiller handle.
While balancing the handle across the top of the rudder, Bob unscrewed the bolt to attach the handle. Mistake #4. The bolt chose that moment to commit suicide by leaping from Bob’s hands, sinking to the bottom of the drink. Aaaarrrgh….! With the boat being held by Mark and me, Bob removed the middle bolt from the tiller and used it to attach the handle. With steering capability restored, Mark turned us loose. Despite our mistakes, we were able to motor out of the marina without further mishap and our boat still intact, although I cannot say the same for our pride.
Once we were out into the Columbia, our quick little spin turned into a nice little jaunt. There was a little more boat traffic than we would have liked, but it was fun crossing the big wakes of the powerful cabin cruisers and having the water break over the bow. We decided to motor down the river a ways away from the mass of spiffy-dressed boaters near the entrance to the marina. We even got brave enough to kick the motor out of gear and test the sails and rigging, which I am pleased to say all worked well.
However, there was a small problem when a large number of really gross, bubble-butted spiders that had taken up residence in the previously abandoned sails began blowing down and falling all around us! I HATE spiders! Needless to say that didn’t go over real well with me. I didn’t realize how small 25 feet was until I was surrounded by spiders, and there was nowhere to run! Bob was pitching spiders overboard as fast as he could in order to keep the Coast Guard from coming to see what all the blood curdling screams were about. My shrieks were so shrill that Bob claims they opened the drawbridge down river for us. Yea, sure they did.
Once the boat was spider free we had a very nice sail: blue sky, a beautiful view of Mt. Hood, and just the right amount of breeze. It was the perfect day. But the first time Evolution heeled over, having never been on a sail-boat before, I nearly wet my pants! I’d seen pictures of boats in that position, but it just didn’t look that scary. Well, I was terrified. As I clung to the rail I looked over at Bob for reassurance. He seemed content and perfectly calm, just enjoying the cruise. He was having a great time. I figured it must be normal, so I tried to act casual and just hung on for dear life.
On the cruise back, with the wind square at our back, we even sailed wing and wing for a while. We were moving along at a pretty good clip against a strong current and in a light breeze; it was like flying! As I became more comfortable, I even began helping with the sheets and tiller. I was feeling like quite the little sailor! Yeeehaw!!!! (Oops, that’s the small town inland hick coming out in me!)
We had anticipated that it would be weeks before we would have Evolution out on the water; we were really pleased with how she handled being out for the first time in so many years. The sails went up and down smoothly, there were no leaks, and the motor ran great. As it turns out, we’ve decided that we got a REALLY good deal. The little Hunter 25.5 is out doing what she loves to do, and she and Bob are patiently teaching me the ropes.OK, consider me hooked!
Ahoy!
You can comment on any post by clicking the word 'comments' below.
Evolution of a Sailor
This blog will chronicle my evolution as I leave my life as an inland landlubber, and transform into what I hope is a true and confident sailor. I will also contain additional tidbits of trivia, humor, and my own brand of drama, as they pertain to some of my other interests such as birds, wildlife and family, (which is just another form of wildlife). I hope you enjoy reading, and I love receiving your comments!
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