8th December, 2024

Sundays in Paradise

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Moving straight onto a sailboat after eight months of it sitting in the heat of the tropics is quite a shock. First, because we are acclimating to the thirty-degree temperature change. Second, it has been closed tight which tends to distribute the lovely stench of diesel. Actually, it doesn’t distribute as much as invade every pore of every piece of material on the boat. Which means washing every sheet, every towel, and every piece of clothing. Do I have a washing machine on the boat? Of course not. I fill our cart and lug it up to the laundromat that is about a quarter mile walk. Often it is at low tide which adds a steep hill to the walk. When I get to the laundry, only one half of the machines work and half of those are usually in use. I press cold water and get hot water. The dryers are so hot, the clothes burn my hands. I have made this trip at least five times in the last ten days. And this is only the beginning of the work that lies ahead before we can take that long awaited first sail of the season.

(In all fairness, I must note that our caretakers, E2 Yacht Services, did clean the boat – and our interior cushions – prior to our arrival. They did a great first run-through, but it takes so much more as you can see.)

While the boat aired out, Jay connected the electronics and checked the windlass. We crossed our fingers that everything would work. Mostly, it did. Except for the autopilot. Jay recalibrated it and all was good again. We waited for Gilberto who was finishing replacing the exhaust elbow, the shut-off switch and the oil sender. We had new rigging installed and Jay fixed our spreader that was starting to rot. We thought the bow light was broken but it was just a hornets’ nest, blocking the light. I fixed the stern light under Jay’s direction. The mainsail was stored this season so that the boom could be painted. It was. Only it must be done again next season as there are bubbles in the paint. Our sailmakers returned our mainsail, and both the mainsail and genoa are mounted and ready to go. Three light fixtures are broken, and Jay and I are fixing them one by one. Tools are missing or misplaced or rusted when found.

Yesterday, we attacked the dinghy. Our caretakers took the chaps off to clean it but didn’t bother to replace it. I know why. It is a bitch to fit the chaps on the dinghy. Three hours later – this very hot and tired crew (Jay and me) – had the dinghy put together and back on the davits. Now we wait for the outboard motor to be delivered. Meanwhile, we purchased a new bulb fitting for the gas tank. We need to check the propane tanks. Fill the water tanks. Jay put the grill back together. One of the clocks is broken but he was able to get the digital recording barometer working and hanging in its place. Many of the chores take four hands, some take hands that are smaller than mine, others require boat yoga, and always they take a whole lot of patience to complete.

I could go on and on. It’s a boat. It never ends.

I confess. I have been a bit grumpy throughout these past two weeks. It seems to get harder and harder as we get older. I am hot and sore and tired.

BUT

I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Our boat is starting to feel like home again. It is also beginning to feel like a sailboat. I am remembering why we are here. To sail. To cruise. And Jay has finally agreed to go back to our Sunday ritual; mochas on the beach in the morning and no work. Today we are going out on a date. If we can’t be out sailing, Sundays in Paradise are the best.