Broken August and Red Huckleberry Jam

In Early August, my mom, who just happens to be a hand therapist, took a look at my right wrist that wasn't healing and made me a super special, customized splint.  In doing so, she effectively salvaged the rest of my summer.  So, thank you Mom.  :)

I started to work more on the boat more.  Then Ben got really sick, so for a while we weren't moving very fast. But we were able to get in this tile in.  It's where the diesel stove is going to go.  

He sat there on the ledge and placed all the tile and handed me pieces to cut.  I would then hop down to the dock where we had the tile saw set up, and back up with a resized piece.  I was able to do all but the last ten or so, when my wrist started aching. Here are some pictures:

We were going down to the boat one Sunday and I had my feet up on the dashboard of the truck, when I felt the unmistakable sensation of a large insect flying up the right leg of my shorts followed immediately by a sting. Since there was no shoulder and a steep drop off on the side of the road, we had to drive with this thing crawling around inside my shorts for a couple minutes till we found a place to turn off. 

I am not officially allergic to wasps, yet, but every time I am stung the reaction is worse. The last time I was stung and didn't get treatment immediately, the swelling wrapped entirely around my leg and I had to take antibiotics and other fun pills that I can't pronounce.  I was also limping for a week. So when I get get stung, it is unfortunately a bigger deal than I would like.

The place we found to pull off was a gravel parking lot next to one of the Swinomish Tribe administration buildings. Ben sprinted around to my side and helped me out. We had to move extremely slowly and carefully, I got both feet on the ground then took off my shorts. During this, I felt a second sting on the thigh. I can only imagine what this scene looked like the the people driving by.

Ben shook my shorts and a Bald-Faced Hornet fell out onto the ground. We then looked at each other and he said,"Well, I guess this day is shot."

We turned right around and headed to Island Hospital. Because it was a Sunday, the walk-in clinic was closed, so our only option was the ER. I got a bed, and Ben sat in a chair next to me and swapped jokes and talked Game of Thrones until the doc showed up. 

It was a hoot.  I am so glad I ate lunch before all this. 

In the Island Hospital ER.

Now, lest you think this month was a pile of crap, a week later I hiked to the top of Mt. Erie with my knitting.  Get a load of that view.


Partway up, I found the most heavily laden Red Huckleberry bush I've ever seen. All those little salmon egg-like berries peeking out from behind those little tender green leaves!  I like to rub my face against those leaves because they're so soft.
I made a note of its location and returned with a friend the next day.  Now only she and I know where it is.  I am so excited about this! I've been foraging berries and other goodies for awhile, but I've never had a treasure spot before.

Jamming time!

So no, August wasn't a loss.  And in terms of boat work, September has been pretty awesome.  I'll write about it in the next couple of days.  Until then, thanks for visiting.

April

April is here.  Look, pictures!

Sitting on the aft deck knitting or reading in the sun make for the most pleasant moments I have these days.

I'm knitting my first sweater.  What?  I'm proud of it!  If you wanna see boat pictures, keep your shirt on and scroll down.

Oh no the roof is gone!

So yeah, we found some rot in the overhead, so we tented the deckhouse and knocked that shit out.  I forgot how much I enjoy the sound of rain from inside a tent.

New deck beams.

While the tent was up, we could enjoy staying dry while searching our pockets for the keys to the cabin.  Eventually, we would like covered side decks, but that's a little ways in the future.

I've got this brilliant idea that we should get a miniature donkey and get him to pull the dock cart.  I'd name him Donkey Xote and keep him away from windmills.

Ben thinks this is an incredibly stupid idea.  Feel free to leave a note in the comments to tell him how foolish he's being.

Canada, Coziness, and La Conner

 Around this time of year, when the daylight starts to wane and the skies are dark and grey, my head starts feeling dark and grey as well.  It saps my energy and makes it difficult to do anything, regardless of any good going on in my life.  So, I will write about sunnier moments.

On the last day of summer, as a belated birthday present to Ben's mother, we took her to the UBC Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver.  I love North coast Native art, and local history, and there was much of both there.  Seeing Bill Reed's Raven and the First Men was as impressive as seeing the portrait of Genevra de' Benci by Da Vinci in DC, and even more wonderful.
The photographs taken by a student at the St. Michael's Bay Residential School were heartbreaking, yet mischievous and surprisingly hopeful.  There were sharpies set out, so that any visitor who might know faces could put a name to them.  The testimonials on the wall however, were rage-inducing.  I hadn't realized that a Truth and Reconciliation Commission regarding the residential schools was happening in Vancouver that very day.  They were called boarding schools down here.  I wonder that we have no such commission.
It was a short trip to Canada, and it made me wish for more, so I rode home with a smile in my heart planning future trips and thinking about the healing of old wounds.  It is a strange thing to need a passport to drive up the coast for a day.

The next day was the equinox and Ben and I spent it hanging out on the boat, still at anchor in Cornet Bay.  A storm was expected and we thought we'd keep her company.  But Cornet Bay was so sheltered we didn't get much more than rain, and wind gusts.  The day instead, was the very definition of cozy.

Randy lent us his ancient Stanley thermos so we could have blood orange and cranberry tea.  Check out the cork!

The radio we thought was dead wasn't.  Ben was able to tune in to a classic rock station in Victoria.

Spent some time working on steering and getting the rudder angle indicator to cooperate.

Farley Mowat, good chocolate, and knitting.  

The big compass in the wheelhouse doesn't have a cover so I am knitting one.

Now a week later, the Boat is in La Conner, finally moored to a permanent dock, and snug as a bug in a rug.  We moved her yesterday.  It was gorgeous little cruise, but I am tired so pictures will have to wait.

Finally there is sunshine in my head.

Daydreaming on the Slough

Well, we've moved the boat.  We are also exhausted, but those are stories for another day. 

It has occurred to me that I haven't described the marina where our lovely boat has lived for the better part of a year and it bears mentioning.

The place we discovered the boat was up Ebey Slough, near Everett.  It's the sort of place where old boats go to die.  But it did work for the previous owners and us for the last several months to have a cheap place to keep her and work on her without requiring insurance.

It's an otherworldly place, a nameless (as far as I know) island in the Snohomish River delta.  The grass is 6 feet tall, and there are many blackberries, red elderberry, willows, alders that hide the freeway trestle bridge from view. And it's tidal, the flow of water changes direction four times a day.  I saw the same large uprooted stump float back and forth one long hot day, allowing me to keep track of time without a watch.

Full moon on an August evening.

The little Adaline moored behind us.

Oh, and the marina owners keep peacocks.  Have you ever heard a peacock call?  It is the strangest sound!  It and the humidity would transport me right out of temperate North America for a moment.

If this huffy little peahen could've given me the finger, I'm sure she would have.

There is also an overgrown asian pear orchard.  I wish I had a picture. They must be getting ripe now, if we were still there I'd ask to pick a few.  And maybe learned how to brew asian pear wine.  :)

The view from the wheelhouse.

During this time, Ben spent a lot of time cleaning the bilge.  I wish I could say I was more help, but my back being in the shape it is, made it very difficult to work down there without risk of re-injury, and certainly without pain.  He has done an amazing job though, and he's been very patient with me while I do what I can.

My tasks are quite a bit lighter.  (I scrubbed the crap out of the diesel stove.)  And I tended to find time to sit and knit while listening to rustling grass, buzzing insects, and yes, peacocks.  I'm knitting a cowl with a zig-zag lace pattern.  I liked to imagine living aboard this coming winter and knitting or reading in front of the stove in the galley.

We aren't sure when we'll be able to move aboard.  We were originally hoping it would be by Halloween, but we both agree that at the very least, we will wake up Christmas morning on our boat.  We've been together seven years now and have never spent a Christmas morning just the two of us. 

On our last little spin around the slough.

We've now moved.  Next time I'll write about the haul out and journey up the Saratoga Passage.