Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
My First Gale
The other weekend I had my first storm on the boat. It was AMAZING.
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.
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.
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?
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.
I can't wait until the next storm,
Marisa
 |
| 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? |
 |
| 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.
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.
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