Hooked...

One thousand, seven hundred and twenty-three. That is how many days it has been since Deb and I slept a night on a boat at anchor. But that string will end in a few hours. First Light rides to her hook roughly 600 feet off the free dock at Washington, NC. It is really good to be back. After day one here we decided to spend one more day in Washington, erring on the side of caution because of the weather. Then we would leave this morning riding a near perfect forecast. But last night I woke up feeling really odd, with a sore throat and an occasional, but very brief, feeling of choking. Seriously annoying and a bit concerning given my recent history. Moving up to the salon and lying reclined rather than flat helped. But, for the first time since we started this trip I really wished I was back in St. Louis and feeling far less vulnerable. That is not a feeling I am used to. Deb has also been bothered with a sore throat as her arm slowly improves. Given her recent visit to an OR that was a bit concerning as well. So first thing this morning, instead of heading off on the next leg, it was off to visit the local Urgent Care. The good folks there had us on the mend before the morning was spent. It seems Deb picked up an infection during her hospital stay which I then picked up from her. We are both on meds, feeling much better, and cleared to be on our way whenever. 

The first weather delay was for a potential for strong storms forecasted across our route. I am still trying to make peace with being a trawler driver, so one of these days I want to drive this thing through some weather from the lower helm—dry, comfortable, and with the windshield wipers thumping away. But that day isn't here yet. We actually tested the wipers while sitting at the dock when the rains came. I think light to moderate rain wouldn't be much of a problem save for a) the big chart plotter with the RADAR overlay is mounted on the fly bridge along with b) the auto pilot control. Still, I'm hoping to give it a try soon. One of the things that always irritated me with Kintala was just how little weather I felt it safe to tackle. So far I am feeling the same way about First Light. Thunderstorms and 20 knot winds? We drive a car through that kind of weather without a second thought. Of course the road under the wheels doesn't routinely rear up and smack one upside the head. So there is that to consider. Still, I would like to think a little rain and a bit of breeze would not be a show stopper with First Light.

Another thing we are re-learning about boat life, now that we are off the dock, is just how dependent we are on electricity. Even equipped with a bunch of solar panels, when the clouds move in the gen-set gets a regular workout. The amp meter suggests that we bring the gen-set online whenever the stove or the microwave needs to be used, sun or no sun. If it has been a cloudy day and we haven't been under way, evening gen-set time is needed to fill the batteries up for night duty. Come morning, particularly if we are up with the sun just joining us? You guessed it, fire up the gen-set as the batteries are near spent after carrying the fans, lights, and refrigerators for a night; even with the fridges turned down as low as we dare. Fans are needed, particularly when it is raining as there is no chance of AC without shore power or the gen-set running. We do not run that thing when everyone is sleeping or no one is on the boat. I suspect we are being overly cautious, but I don't know any other approach to take. One really nice thing about this trawler's gen-set is that starting it means setting some switches and toggling the start button at electrical panel. No digging the thing out from its lashings, plugging it in, filling the gas, and pulling on the rope. It is also much quieter than was the Honda generator we carried on Kintala. So here I sit, up on the flybridge with the windows rolled up, watching the week end party and fishing boats putt-putt by. They must all be locals because every single one of them (minus the jet ski Neanderthals) is being careful about their wake and courteous to those leaving the free dock. Of course the music kind of grates on the nerves, but this is the country & western bit of the eastern US. And the music pouring out from the boats is not near as loud as the rap music bellowing out of the cars in the city—even with the windows up. If you ever have the chance to anchor here for a night or two, don't miss it. With any luck this will be the turning point of our “summer to move the boat” and things will be a little less trying from here on. But if not, well, we will just keep on plucking away: medical issues, boat issues, weather issues...just keep on keeping on. 'Cause it is really good to be back.