Hard week

I spent a couple of extra days at the boat again this week, trying to get the project list under control.  At the top of the list was sealing the toe rail to the deck.  It got done, but it didn't go particularly well.  The sealer we used must have come straight from the tool box of DE devil; it couldn't be worked after it came out of the tube, if it got somewhere it shouldn't it stuck and smeared and was nearly impossible to clean. At one point, working to get a good tape line around stanchions and fittings and such, I started to wonder, "When can I retire from retiring onto a boat?"

The day promised to be another that would end with sore joints, aching bones, and a dog-tired climb into the V-berth. I like working on things. I like working on this thing. But sometimes it is just relentless hard work and not a lot of fun. Still, the efforts of Thursday and Friday seemed to pay off and the inboard deck-to-toe-rail seam, both port and starboard, should now be water tight. So I took Saturday off and went for a motorcycle ride.

A bit of a strange one I admit, even for me. It started with a 100 mile run to meet the other riders. (All friends from the marina. We were starting 100 miles away because that's where the good roads are.) Mounted up we rode about 50 miles with 4 stops for a "break" along the way, one of which included lunch. After lunch I rode back to the marina for a total day of about 270 miles. The other riders were all on cruisers with me on an all out sport bike. It was a slow ride, but a lot of fun.  (I did scoot off ahead for one short bust of strafing corners at, shall we say, "extra-legal" speeds. But I played nice for most of the day.)

Deb worked on the side curtains for the dodger, but I wouldn't have accomplished much had I stayed around. Winds this weekend have consistently gusted past 35 knots and it rained all of last night. Kintala has been dancing on her lines and banging against the fenders with a lot of enthusiasm for a boat that weighs some 25,000 pounds. It will be interesting riding out big winds on a hook or mooring ball somewhere, with no dock or snug clubhouse around in which to sit out the blow. Maybe that's when I'll have retired from retiring onto a boat?