Night sailing.

Joined some other sailors for a midnight sail the other night. Sailing in the Bay Area is always beautiful. Nestled in the middle of the bay you can see all the cities perched on the hills, with elegant bridges stretching across the waves. 

At night it's a different beauty. The inky blackness of the waves are at once beautiful and terrifying. The tales of

Krakens and sea monsters don't seem far fetched at all. Anything could be waiting in that deep deep dark. 

And the signs of civilization take on a different look at night. Cities glisten in the darkness like jeweled tiaras dotting the hills. The new span of the Bay Bridge pierces the sky like a mast and spreaders. 

Getting Alfie on the Boat

So let me tell you about my adorable goofball of a dog. He's a 65lb pit bull mutt and he's a wimp, wuss, scaredy cat. He's scared of water, towels, and doors that move too suddenly. And it took him weeks to realize that the doggie door wasn't out to hurt him. 

Hello! My name is Alfie!

I'm a goofball!

I knew getting him on the boat was going to be a challenge. I thought he'd first be freaked out by the docks. He took to the docks like a champ, and then of course was more interested in going swimming than getting on the boat. 

But after he almost dove in to smell assorted sticks, ripples and the odd duck, I got him to my very own part of the dock. I climb my plastic steps onto the boat and my pup all excited goes to follow. But he puts his two front legs on the top step, tipping the steps and now the steps are suddenly like the MOST TERRIFYING THING EVER. Meanwhile my mom's fluffy terrier pup, Kiki is hopping on and off the boat like it ain't no thang. Sure she was motivated by chasing her squeaky ball, but she wasn't scared at all. And while Kiki is jumping back and forth, Alfie is pointedly looking anywhere but at her. Clearly he was saying "nope, nope, nope, still the scariest thing ever. Can we go chase squirrels and ducks now?"

So that was attempt #1

Attempt #2

We met another super friendly liveaboard with a dog. Alfie hit if off immediately with the dog (omgomgomgtheresanotherdoghere) and the other liveaboard (she had treats). Her adorable mutt was an old hand at the boat life. So we all went over to my boat and this new dog showed Alfie just how to navigate those tricksy steps. And the other liveaboard offered liberal treats. And oh my pup, he sure wanted to go on the boat. But still those steps....

Attempt #3

Treats, bribery, treats and more treats. A walk round the docks. And more treats. No go. Plus I ran out of dog treats. 

Attempts #4-7

Treats, praise, patience and still nothing. 

Attempt #8

Big strong boyfriend lifted Alfie into the cockpit.

Well this is kinda nice

And here he is on the starboard side thinking that perhaps the cockpit ain't that bad. 

He moved over to the portside of the cockpit. 

This is nice too.

Hung out for a bit and then got stuck. 

Wait what happened to the floor?

No seriously what's wrong with the floor?

I can't step down there. Nope, nope, nope.

Did you turn the floor to lava?

He forgot how to get down. It's like suddenly the cockpit floor turned to lava. 

He eventually figured out that the floor of the cockpit (that he had walked on just 5 minutes ago) was in fact just fine. And he had absolutely no problems figuring out how to get off the boat all by himself. Boarding on the other hand is still not something he'll do. 

Boat dog in the making (hopefully!)

Oh look a seagull!

Boat Doodles

White Cap

Quick little sketch of one of the neighbors. Lil' miss gadgets.

My First Gale

The other weekend I had my first storm on the boat. It was AMAZING.

Rain prep. Gotta put a tarp above the boom to prevent leaks.

I love the rain. Not in a I-want-to-go-run-out-in-it-and-get-soaked love. More like give me a thin roof over my head and let me listen to the pitter-patter, the drip drip drip and of course the roar. My childhood home had high ceilings with exposed beams and no noise dampening attics. In other words rain acoustics were top notch.

Staying warm and toasty down below

The storm's a coming 

Rain acoustics on the Pax are even better. There's the pitter-patters, the drip drip drips, the roar of the wind, the tink tink tink of lines hitting masts, and the lapping of the waves. But on a boat you don't just hear the storm, you feel it too. At one point the winds reached 32 mph. Usually the winds are a 6 (in the winter). Such force had the Pax tossing and pitching. With the wind roaring the rain battering down, and the boat being tossed around like a toy, I felt so small. Not the short small that my 5'2'' stature is used to feeling. The small, like I am just a speck of dust, in this great big world of ours. The small of seeing nature in (just some of her) glory and being in awe of her power. The small of realizing, even in the harbor, just how powerful the wind and the water could be. Truly, sitting down below I alternated between between slack jawed awe and adrenaline filled grins. Then I'd wonder how boats actually float, get paranoid about sinking, get paranoid about checking my lines, feel lazy and eventually check the lines.

Mid storm. Couldn't really capture it well with an iphone pic

My loved ones collectively sent me separate messages to "batten down the hatches" throughout the storm. Which I found at once touching and confusing. Did I know what batten down the hatches meant? Did they? Is that just something we tell to people when the storms are a coming?

The wind was really blowing. Are you impressed by the grass?

Also one last thought: fill up your water tank before the storm starts. Otherwise you'll be like me, half stumbling in galoshes out into the 32 mph winds that are hitting the starboard side, to get to the water pump access which is of course on the starboard side. And then you sit out there in the piercing wind and rain, clutching lines counting one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.... and on until the damn tank is full.

After the storm

I can't wait until the next storm,
Marisa

The One Month (Give Or Take) Review

So I've been living on a boat for about and month and a half. And I think enough time has passed that I can rightly say I FREAKING LOVE LIVING ON A BOAT. It's super awesome sauce.

Ok so my live has changed a bit since moving on:

1. Less dog cuddles. My dog is scared to come aboard. He loves the docks. He loves the water. He's terrified of my dock steps. They moved slightly underneath him this one time. I tried to lure/bribe with affection, treats, new exciting humans, new even more exciting dogs. We're working on it, but he's a scaredy cat pit bull.

2. Everyone wants to come visit me now suddenly. Is it me or the boat? Ya know, maybe I don't want the answer to that.

3. Making a mess in a small place is really easy. But then so is cleaning up. Either way I'm way cleaner than in my sprawling childhood home.

4. Living in a small space is fun and intimate. Practically everything is within reach. Limited space means that only my most favorite things are on board. This really only was painful when I had to select which books to bring on board. This also means that my most favorite things without all the excess stuff are easier to appreciate.

5. My fridge is tiny. Like a quarter to a fifth the size of a normal one door fridge. So every night I play tetris. Let's just say I'm really good at it.

6. Moisture is a big deal. Cooking makes moisture. Breathing makes moisture. Being inside makes moisture. You really don't want moisture. Especially right above your head when you're sleeping and then plop! Right on the schnoze.

7. Got sleeping problems? Come sleep on the water and let the sea rock you to sleep. Best sleep ever

8. Everything tastes better on a boat.

9. And perhaps most importantly, I spend far more time stopping and smelling the roses, so to speak. I'm just so much more aware of nature out here on the water. I'm constantly in awe of the water and the sky. I plan my days so I can catch the sunset. I actually care if it's windy or rainy. I feel like I've been infused with a newfound love for life, and beauty.

10. I'm panicking because once my sweet rental deal is up I'll need another boat to live on.

Boat Hostess

So now that I live on a boat my pad is suddenly the coolest. And I've been doing lots of entertaining this past week.

First I had one on one taco time. We chowed down on tacos in the cockpit. I adapted a crockpot recipe for chicken taco meat and it worked wonderfully on the propane stove. (Chicken breasts with taco seasoning, and salsa with some chicken broth brought to a boil and then simmered for 30 min or so. And then shred the chicken.) I also made some pico from scratch, delicious!

Having lunch in the cockpit is fantastic. It's beautiful, peaceful and everything tastes better on the water! I was even expecting some bold seagulls to harass us. But they were off somewhere else. 

A couple of nights later and it was brewskis, pizza and Mah Jong night.

With three strapping men and little ole me the place started to feel pretty cozy. And my entire table almost disappeared under one large pizza box. When I'm by myself the table is huge, I forget that it's not a big table when compared to normal dining tables. Brought out my grandmas set of tiles and decided to teach some white boys how to play Mah Jong. Of course as I got more tipsy, I forgot rules and they reminded me of the rules. That means I'm a pretty good teacher while sober, right? It's also great to see other people discovering the joys of "Ponging" your enemies. 

And then a few nights after that, we had a company party at my boat. You can do that when your company only consists of five peeps. Take that super big corporations.

No pictures survived the night of my guests on the Pax (ie we all were having way too much fun or just forgot we had cameras). There is this sunset pic though. 

This was the most challenging night of entertaining. And it wasn't the because of the guests (except for one who really wanted to unscrew all the bolts holding the boat together.), it was because I found out the hard way about the door, the boom, serving sizes, and small kitchens.

For the party I was expecting anywhere from 5 to 10 people. We ended up numbering 7 including myself. Now this was starting to get tight, not cramped, tight. Thankfully it was mild and warmish January night so my guests could spend time down below and in the cockpit. All the ins and outs did introduce my guests to the intricacies of sailboat doors (I have three wooden panels that have to be placed in order, with the right sides in, otherwise the hatch won't properly close above the door. As one guest put it: "You like doors, and you like puzzles. Why not combine them?" Promoting some alcohol aided/hindered puzzle solving. Of course as soon as the door was closed up somebody would want to go outside, or somebody was outside who wanted to come in.

Sometimes I do really dislike my door. 

I tried to be a good boat hostess and tell people always have two to three points of contact, you know so they wouldn't fall over board. So focused was I on making sure they didn't fall off, that I forgot to warn them about the boom. The boom is perpendicular to the mast and extends out into the cockpit at normal people height. I'm short so I hardly ever hit my head on it. But my guests aren't of the super short Asian variety. And well BOOM smack dab into the boom. Guest's forehead 0, Boom 1. And of course it's the guy who my dog consistently hits in the nuts (no I didn't teach him that) who also runs into the boom. I felt like I just failed as boat hostess right there. But alcohol and pretty sunsets fix lots of things. 

So I was preparing for a group of 10 just in case everyone brought a plus one. I took this crockpot recipe that I had never cooked before (bad idea #1) and just doubled it, without paying attention to the size of the crockpot in the recipe or the one I was using (bad idea #2). So I mixed up the sauce, had some cocktails. Added the vegetables, more cocktail imbibing. Added the meat, didn't read the recipe, got distracted, ohhh hello alcohol. And then I realized the crockpot was totally full, to the brim, and I hadn't added any noodles in. And my guests were already there and hungry. So I split up the recipe, half on the stove top, half in the crockpot and tossed in the half the noodles into each pot. Of course, also half my noodles are Americanized Asian noodles that you can get at the regular supermarket and they have instructions in English, the other half were bought from Ranch 99 had instructions in Chinese, and despite my heritage I can't read it. I just assumed they'd both cook the same way (bad idea #3). Of course they didn't. The crockpot half with the Asian Asian noodles turned to goop. The other half though was just fine and enough to fill up my guests. It didn't hurt that I also pan fried up lots of potstickers. Cover up your mistakes with potstickers, they'll never know.

This party night also got alllll the dishes in my galley dirty (well except for the cast iron skillet, but I probably splashed some oil on it by accident, so let's just say it got dirty too.) Of course I don't have too many dishes, but when your galley is tiny, having three big bowls, a plate, a frying pan, soup pot, crockpot, seven sets of chopsticks, seven mismatched drinking vessels and the cutting board all dirty make the whole place look completely trashed. And we even used disposable plates (because I only have one plate), but still it looks trashed. (I know, I know, disposable plates are bad for the environment. Trying to not use them in the future)

I spent much of the next day cleaning up the shenanigans from the day before. Doing dishes in the galley makes me miss high powered faucets and running hot water. Thank goodness for electric kettles! Anyways cleaning up took so much time that I didn't have time to run out and grab some provisions. Thankfully I crammed my galley with snacks and have enough for my guests. I hosted a meeting of tiny house enthusiasts in my tiny space! Tiny house enthusiasts should always meet in tiny spaces, right?

And now I'm going to be a boat hermit for a while. 

Morning view

Just a quick sketch of my morning view

Moving Day! (Actually Half Day)

Finally! Moving day! I think it took me a few hours to locate everything I wanted to move aboard. Can't take much after all, it is a small space.

Have I shown you the outside yet? I don't  think so! She's a beaut. Meet the Pax Vobiscum (Latin for peace be with you)

Except for the bedding stuff I moved on last night and a number of useful stuff left over from the previous tenant (space heater, dehumidifier, assorted spices, rice, tiny fridge and electric kettle) the place was pretty empty. 

Pictures taken from the galley/entrance

And here's what I brought aboard: 

- One laundry basket of kitchen stuff: pots and pans, utensils, rice cooker, chopsticks! mason jars, a tin mug with a Chinese dragon on it, some spices and sauces, bowls and whatever else looked useful and could fit in the basket.

- a shiny new still-in-the-box tiny crockpot 

- cans of chicken broth, beans and tomatoes

- assorted fruits, veggies and produce staples like onions and garlic

- one laundry basket full of clothes, toiletries, and accessories

- a largish suitcase with more clothes, hangars and 4 big fluffy bath towels

- canvas tote bags 

- backpack full of watercolor plein air painting supplies

- book bag containing my laptop, assorted chargers, sketchbooks and other day to day art things

- some DVDs

- some books from a recent trip from Powells in Portland, and the nifty red bag

- 6 pairs of shoes, including my trademark red cowboy boots!

- trash bin

- bottle of rum Aaargg!

- 3 decorative odds and ends

Aaaaanndd that's it! 

And you know what it only took me an hour and a half to stow everything aboard! It's still positively roomy aboard. Most of the storage holds are still empty too. 

I think I'll bring a few more things aboard like some more blankets and bedding stuff, trivets and more hot pads, coasters; useful things. Also because I've got the room I'll bring my oil plein air kit and some other art stuff and books. I don't want to stuff this place to the gills, just a few more stuff.

Thanks for reading,

Marisa

Move On or Go Sailing?

I was all set to move on. I had two laundry baskets full and an odd assortment of things gathered together and I was chock full of anticipation. But then my new neighbors asked "Wanna go sailing tomorrow?" 

And at first I said no. Can you believe that? Good sense won out in the end. And we went out on their Fuji Ketch. 

The day started out all beautiful

And super calm. Hardly any wind out there!

Thankfully we found some wind. And a friend. Or wind stealing jerk. Pretty much both at the same time. 

It was great sailing out on the bay. Got to see the Richmond, the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate all at once. The Bay Area sure looks purdy. 

We did the sailing version of a touristy visit to the Golden Gate. I'm not biased at all, of course. But I think our version was way cooler. 

Watch out for them tankers when you're out there! 

It was a chilly sail back with the wind blowing right at us. 

And when we got back I didn't really move on. Going sailing with the neighbors is part of moving on, right? I'm going to call it step number 17.

And I could have rushed and moved on in the dark. But instead I ate a meal topside. Because 1. Everything tastes better on the water and 2. Look at that view!

The night before

The night before I moved onto the boat. It really sunk in. I stepped aboard and and totally almost fell in to the drink (by which, I mean I lost my balance for a half second and panicked). And right there it sunk in. I'm going to be living on a tiny little thing floating above the cold, cold sea.  

Oh crap...... This is kind of scary isn't it?