Football and Freshies

We've written many times about things we miss while we're at sea or just things we can't find in foreign countries. Crunchy green things for salads, fresh blueberries, green chiles, ground turkey … cars … washing machines … blenders. We manage just fine without, but it's always a treat when we get to have these things again. We certainly appreciate them more. For sure, one of things I miss most when we're at sea is fresh produce and I try to get my fix whenever we're ashore. Sometimes, even when we're in port, finding a good variety of freshies nearby is a challenge. When we're in Boston with Lin, we head to Trader Joe's. When in Las Vegas, Mary and I usually head to Sprouts Farmer's Market, first thing. It allows me to OD on the beautiful displays of freshies … unbelievable variety ... apples, oranges, pears, pomegranates and pineapples ... salad makings galore and everything from parsnips to peaches and kale to kiwi.

Instead of planning meals based on what's left in the larder, (pickled beets, lentils and tuna?) we plan more appealing meals and buy to suit our tastes on a given day. “Let's have roasted root vegetables tonight”, Mary suggested. And so we bought golden beets and parsnips, carrots, red potatoes and onions. We threw in some butternut squash and Brussel sprouts for color and good measure. We prepped the veggies, then Mary tossed them lightly in olive oil, salt and pepper and popped them into the oven to roast. She didn't even worry that it would use up too much propane. Oh, my … delightfully tasty, yet nutritious … a winning combination served with basil chicken sausage from the grill.

Though David might miss the food aspect of things, he rarely complains. He does miss the space to work on his projects, access to more tools (if that's possible) and watching football. Here in Las Vegas he has space, several projects he's volunteered to do for Mary and a whole cache of tools. He's installed new LED overhead lights in the kitchen and added more lights over the breakfast counter. He's replaced a temperature sensor in her all-electronic Samsung fridge-freezer. He doesn't like moss growing on his boat shoes.

Especially at this time of the year, however, his passion for watching football comes to a crescendo. On the boat, we never watch games and rarely even get to listen to them. It's one of America's autumn pastimes and he usually misses out. Not this year. It's play-off season and Sunday afternoons are usually spent watching a game … or two. Of course, that requires a TV, as well as access to the sports channels, and luckily Mary has both.

Now, how do freshies and football connect, you ask? Beyond the fact we miss both things while we're at sea is the fact that not only do we eat healthier here and get to watch the football games now, but we eat (not always healthier) WHILE watching football games. We plan our football feast and shop expressly for it … chips and salsa, guacamole, beer, mimosas (champagne and OJ for Mary and me), spicy chicken wings with bleu cheese dip, crudite (that's the healthy part) and whatever else strikes our fancy. Me? Oh, I like football okay - I can take it or leave it, but I enjoy watching with everyone and then there's the mimosas. Did I mention the mimosas?

The Blue View - Clam Shell Patch for Inflatables

We were on our way to the local Lowes to pick up parts for a house project a few days ago, when the subject of repairing things in remote parts of the world came up. What a difference it makes having a car and just about any conceivable part available only minutes away. Marcie reminded me of a few years ago, when we were exploring the hundreds of tiny anchorages in Tierra del Fuego and Patagonia. We were anchored in a snug little cove for the evening with the anchor in deep water and two lines ashore, and after we were all settled in, we put the dinghy up on the davits. It wasn't unusual to experience large katabatic winds there, usually late at night. Right on schedule, at about 3am, a “racha”, or katabatic wind (also known as a “williwaw”), came blasting down the mountain behind us, and the 135 lb. (60kg) dinghy became more of a kite than a boat. The wind lifted the dinghy up against the solar panels with such force that a corner of one of the panels tore a 3-inch hole in the starboard pontoon of the inflatable.

Most of the anchorages in this area require lines ashore, so having a dinghy is quite important. Knowing we would be hundreds of miles between chandleries and being aware of how important the dinghy was, we came prepared. I had a couple of square feet of hypalon patch material, and a fairly fresh kit of two part adhesive. The next morning I pulled out our patching materials and adhesive, only to discover that the accelerator, one part of the two part adhesive, in our unopened, six month old kit had totally evaporated.

Not to worry – it was only the 'accelerator', which would imply that given enough time, the adhesive itself should still cure. I tried a small amount on a scrap piece of material, but even after 24 hours, the adhesive still remained tacky and wouldn't hold. I tried heating the adhesive – no luck. When I was a boy, patching a bicycle inner tube involved lighting the adhesive with a match and letting it burn a few seconds. This didn't work on the hypalon adhesive, however.

Maybe we could get by with one pontoon deflated... it had three chambers after all, and two were still inflated. I put the dinghy in the water, and the bow and port side pontoons kept the dinghy afloat, even with my weight. Rowing it was rather comical, however. It quickly swamped, so I couldn't sit down and row. I stood up and paddled it, but it was slow going and only wanted to go in circles. Trying to tow 300 foot (90m) lines ashore in a half submerged dinghy that only went in circles would have made a great Mr. Bean video.

I pondered our dilemma for awhile, then remembered I had once seen a product called a 'clam shell patch', a mechanical patch that could be used for patching an inflatable. I rounded up a few scrap pieces of aluminum, plastic panels and rubber gasket material and set to work.

The illustrations above show my first version of the concept. It still leaked air rather copiously, so I added a rubber gasket on both sides of the tear.

The second attempt worked quite well. The patch held well enough to keep the pontoon inflated for about 24 hours. As long as I pumped it up each day before it was needed, it would stay inflated long enough to get our lines ashore in the evening and retrieved in the mornings. The patch served us quite well until we reached Ushuaia and could get a new kit of adhesive shipped in. It now resides with our patch supplies as an emergency repair kit.

Cruising Fashion - It Ain't Pretty

I happened to come upon a blog the other day which discussed fashion for cruising women. It was a serious discourse on what fabrics didn't wrinkle and how to keep whites really white and what clothing was most versatile for sundowners and dinners ashore and what shoes to wear and how to accessorize. She encouraged people to share their fashion tips with others. Oh, my … was I ever left out. Fashion tips from the Nine of Cups' crew? Perish the thought.

Twenty years ago, I thrived on fine worsted wool suits, silk blouses and scarves, fine accessories and high heels in every color of the rainbow. That was then, this is now. I've been shopping in thrift stores and opp shops since I've returned to the States, trying to upgrade my dwindling wardrobe. If you've only paid $1 for a shirt, it's okay if diesel gets splattered on it or you rub against a rust stain. My sister gave me her last year's exercise shoes which have become my walking shoes. Sometimes I splurge on a pair of earrings ... if they're on sale. Underwear, whenever I buy it, is always new. There are limits to my frugality.

I'm always impressed by women who step off their yachts well-coiffed, with starched blouses and freshly ironed slacks with creases (no rust stains noticeable) and head for the local malls to replenish their wardrobes. Most of the full-time live-aboard cruising women I know, however, are pretty much like me, I think. We have limited clothes aboard … mostly because after all those spare boat parts and extra provisions, there's no room to store lots of clothes. What clothes we do have are practical and versatile … shorts, t-shirts, a couple of sundresses maybe, a bathing suit or two, a pair of jeans, sweatpants, sweatshirts, foul weather gear. I do have one old navy blue blazer aboard (from 1999) which I wear with a reasonably good pair of slacks (also from 1999), so I look somewhat presentable whenever I head back to the States. The neat, pressed look is always a challenge. We have no iron aboard.

High heels? NOT! Deck shoes, a pair or two of flip-flops, reef shoes, a good pair of walking shoes (usually with the soles re-glued in place), maybe a pair of Crocs (usually wannabe Crocs). While on passage, we rarely wear shoes at all.

While on passage, fashion never comes to mind. Truth be told, we don't change clothes very often on a passage. It's the same old t-shirt and shorts or sweatpants. They're not color-coordinated because who can tell with all the stains and wrinkles? We wear the same clothes over and over again, day after day, until they either get too crusty to wear or they get doused by a wave and are soaked. Sometimes we don't wear clothes at all actually … depending how hot or cool it is. Less laundry that way, no tan lines (as if?) and definitely no worry about fashion. Come to think about it, sailing naked at our age is an advantage … it keeps the pirates (as well as everyone else) away!