The Blue View - When Blue Does Pink

We're in Florida and I'm up to my eyeballs in preparation for my SSCA presentation on anchoring and have put my battery evaluations on hold for a week or so. I thought it might be a good time to interject a bit of past BV humor into the mix. Not all of my projects go quite as planned. When we divided up the various boat chores, some were arbitrarily assigned as blue or pink while others just naturally fell into one of the categories. Just because a job is labeled pink doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to do it, however, it’s just that it is usually Marcie’s bailiwick.

A case in point is the laundry, which on Nine of Cups is definitely a pink job. Now that Marcie has been back in the States for a few weeks, I’d re-worn my underwear about as much as I could get away with, and the laundry bag was full. My choices were to go buy more or do the laundry. Now, it isn’t as if I’ve never done my own laundry. I was a bachelor several decades ago, and if memory serves, I did wash my clothes back then. How hard could it be?

I asked around about where the laundromat was and whether anyone could give me a lift. Gillian, a friend of a friend stopped by, and said she’d be happy to give me a ride.

Gillian is a pretty big gal, about 6 feet, 200 pounds, and works as a shipwright at a boatyard a few miles away. I suspect she is probably big and tough enough not to take much guff from her co-workers. We seemed an odd pair as she went off to look for boat parts while I was washing the clothes. We climbed into her 3/4 ton 4WD pickup and headed over to the laundromat. She said she’d be back in an hour or so, which would be perfect.

I separated the light clothes from the dark, added the appropriate amount of soap, inserted my coins, started the wash, and read my Kindle for a half an hour. Other than a colossal waste of time, this didn’t seem too difficult.

Once the wash was done, I loaded it into the dryer, set it to high (cotton) and resumed reading my Kindle. I checked on it about 10 minutes later. There was an odd smell in the air. The clothes were extremely hot. I couldn’t even handle them. So hot, in fact, that two of Marcie’s panties had literally melted to the sides of the dryer. I was pretty sure this wasn’t normal. I turned the temperature down to medium and when I checked again in five minutes, the clothes were only slightly warm. So the blue in me kicked in and I then ran it on hot for two minutes, then on medium for two minutes and so on until they were dry.

Other than that, there was only one other slight problem. Apparently something with ink must have previously been in the dryer (or maybe it was the molten panties), because several of our t-shirts now had what appeared to be small blue ink spots on them. I checked all the pockets and didn’t find anything that could have caused it, and I was careful to put the dark and red clothes in a separate washer from the light colors. It remains a mystery to me.

So now Marcie is low on panties and we’re both low on tee’s. I am convinced that these were mishaps that could have happened to anyone and one shouldn’t lose one’s job over something so minor. On the other hand, if I let Marcie think I’m inept at laundry, she’ll probably never let me do it again. That’s a blue thought, ain’t it?

Doing Laundry...Again

I haven't complained about doing laundry for awhile. I'll admit that David does the lion's share of the boat work, but when it comes to the mundane, everyday stuff, I'm your girl. Cooking, cleaning and laundry are inescapable facts of life … on a boat or on land. I don't mind cooking; cleaning isn't all that hard compared to a house. But laundry … laundry torments me. It's the bane of my existence. It's never-ever done. I just did several large loads before we left last week and the laundry's piled up again. David's projects generate extra work clothes … the filthy variety. It's cold and we've been wearing heavier clothes like jeans and t-necks and fleeces in layers instead of t-shirts and shorts. Add to that towels and linens and there's never a dearth of laundry to be washed. We're either the cleanest or the dirtiest cruisers I know.

Our dirty laundry collection point is out of sight behind a hooked-open door in the aft cabin. There's a hand's-width gap to stuff clothes behind the door which land on the aft sink which we never use. When I can 't see behind the door any longer, it probably means it's time to do the laundry. I use an old dive bag to haul laundry up to the laundry room here. For some reason, laundry rooms at yacht clubs are usually stuck away in some obscure spot … probably because most of the members do laundry at home and cruisers like us, are the most common washer/dryer users. It doesn't make sense to use primo real estate for washers and dryers.  Luckily, it's off-season and there aren't many cruisers left here. I usually have the laundry room to myself … oh, joy! It does beat walking all the way up there to find that the two washers are occupied and someone else is waiting in line.

The walk to the laundry room is 367 long strides away from the boat … multiplied by three roundtrips before I'm done. The  narrow, little room is tucked between the marina manager's office and Action Yachting Chandlery … in the boatyard … behind the crane. The floor is tiled and stained with laundry soap and past overflow from the washers. The walls are whitewashed brick. There's always dust and lint and laundry powder on the floor, the tops of the machines and the table. The lint baskets in the dryers are invariably full. I empty the baskets before I throw in a load; empty them when I unload and still they're always full. More than 50% of the time, someone's washed a tissue with their load and the remnants are scattered in the washer, dryer, lint basket and all over the floor. Having raised a family, however, tissues are nothing compared to crayons, Legos and worms.

The washers and dryers work with odd-shaped tokens purchased for R10 (that's about US$0.88 per load) at the marina office. That is quite the bargain anywhere in the world. The laundry room is open 24x7, but it's kind of spooky up there at night … all those lost socks get together then. The washers are not in sync.  When I start both washers at the same time, one always takes 15-20 minutes longer to complete its cycles than the other, though the washers are identical. Evidently, the water fills one washer faster than the other. The washers actually do a good job and the dryers … well, they dry … really well … in one cycle.

As usual, the laundry room contains a book swap which occupies most of the table designated for folding. I'm always looking for something to read when the laundry isn't quite done. The swap library here is quite eclectic. There are several novels and guidebooks in German; one novel in Cyrillic; a guide to New Zealand weeds; a March 1998 issue of Cruising World and a 2004 issue of Sailing South Africa. Quite the appealing lot. Take your pick.

Though it's a time-consuming venture, I'd still prefer to do the laundry myself. In Durban, there were no DIY laundromats close by. You brought the dirty laundry to the office, it was sent out and returned in a day or so … poorly folded and usually wrinkled … all for R80-120 ($7-10).  Of course, soon I'll be doing the laundry by hand again – as long as we catch enough rainwater – which still beats pounding it on rocks in the river.

Gentry, our niece and loyal webmeister, gets a kick out of laundry posts, so she'll be happy to see this one. Reading and writing about laundry sure beats actually having to do it.