Last week, with a few days off for the Independence Day holiday combined with a few days of vacation time, I packed my bags for a whirlwind trip to the Lower 48 in order to see family and attend to the Wind-Lass.
Six flights, ten hours of driving, and over 4000 miles traveled later, I’m pleased to be able to say the mission accomplished! Now, I just need a vacation from my vacation… ;)
Back in March Scotty and I- along with a friend- brought the boat from where we’d kept her for the winter near Charleston, South Carolina, back to Beaufort, North Carolina to spend the summer hurricane season. There are several main reasons for this: 1, it’s cheaper and 2, it’s cheaper. The reasons for that have to do with insurance requirements and related costs based on the area in which a boat is kept, state use tax laws, and slip fees versus yard fees. We decided the latter made more sense.
So, for the past three months, Wind-Lass has been perched on land again. Despite the fact that it’s never easy on the heartstrings to store a boat, I’m glad that we could go back to the boatyard we were at before. The yard is allows "do-it-yourself" work (some don't) and is live/stay-aboard friendly. Plus, with its wonderful owners and helpful staff, as well as having a new and very clean bathhouse it totally made sense.
Whether or not I needed to actually needed to go there to physically check on Wind-Lass this trip is certainly debatable. After all, had we requested it, the staff could have peeked inside to make sure all was well and that no creepy crawlies had taken up residence. None had, but even so, I'm glad I went. Sometimes it just feels better to see firsthand that everything is okay, not mention cleaning periodically can save a lot of time later on.
I arrived on Monday, June 29th, in mid-afternoon and the hottest part of the day with a high of around 85 degrees (luckily, this was about ten degrees cooler than high temps over the previous two weeks!). Our next door neighbor’s wind generator hummed happily from their stern in the light breeze coming off the Intracoastal Waterway, which flowed past the yard only a dozen yards away. Smiling to myself, I climbed the tall wooden ladder one of the maintenance guys had propped up for me against Wind-Lass’s hull.
To get inside, I had to first untie some of the many knots Scotty had made to keep the protective cover secured over the boat. I shimmied up and down the ladder, untying knots and retrieving the strong, thin line that held the cover to the metal stands underneath the hull. Once enough line had been released, I unzipped the cover in several spots near the cockpit entrance. A burst of hot air rushed forward to greet me like an oven being opened.
Inside the cockpit the atmosphere had taken on a greenhouse effect and I hurried to unzip the other side and pull the cover back from the hatches above the main saloon, that, when opened, would allow the boat to air out.
Climbing down inside, I was pleased to see that all our hard work from the last time we were there had paid off. Wind-Lass: 1, Nature (i.e. mold and mildew): 0!
In fact, the boat’s interior looked the best it has ever looked after being left for a period of time. Before we departed in March we had carefully and thoroughly cleaned it, scrubbing the interior fiberglass walls with bleach cleaner and oiling the woodwork. It took several hours for the oppressive heat to exit the boat’s interior, during which time I ran to the store to purchase a fan.
Later, I retrieved fresh sheets and a blanket from the plastic bags we had stored them in and made a bed on one of the settees in the main saloon. Rather than attempt to move the giant main sail bag from the floor next to the settee, I decided to use it as a makeshift stand for watching shows on my laptop.
That night, I fell asleep with the hatches and the companionway wide open, the fan circulating air with a low hum. Aside from the fan, the only sounds were that of a few barges passing by on the ICW, the hoot of an owl, and the occasional drone of military jets overhead heading to one of the nearby bases. It was about as close to sleeping beneath the stars as one can get without actually doing so.
The next two days I did even more deep cleaning and touching up. The cobwebs were vacuumed; the tiny bit of rainwater that had collected in the bilge was suctioned up and wiped clean. I scrubbed away old cooking stains from before we were owners that had been hiding beneath our beautiful marine stove. The engine room was immaculate, just as Scotty had left it.
As the day progressed the interior of the boat turned into a virtual sauna and I had to remind myself to drink enough water. We Alaskans just aren’t used to sweating that much!
In the late afternoon, I rewarded myself with a trip to the beach after getting lunch. After a string of recent shark attacks in the area only a few people played in the water. Instead, I walked along in the shallow surf, its frothy spray cool and refreshing.
I really like being there and two and a half days definitely didn't feel like enough. Before leaving on the third morning, I restored the interior to how I had found it: a Jenga-like arrangement of open lockers, and evenly spaced sails, boat cushions, and storage bags, arranged to maximize air flow and discourage mildew from taking up residence in dark corners.
Finally, I zipped and tied the cover back into place.
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