Boats Break A Lot. Or: Why Sailors Drink Rum

Boats are ticking time bombs. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but - really - the fact that our home is floating in one of the most corrosive environments on the planet (sun + saltwater... have you seen what these things do to stuff?!) means that everything from bathing suits to booster pumps (and, sadly, skin) have a severely truncated shelf life out here. Combine the harsh natural environment with the fact that a boat is constantly in motion with gear that is heavily used (and sometimes abused) means stuff breaks. A lot. Scott reckons he could be fixing and/or maintaining something every single day for several hours a day if he felt so inclined. And our boat is in "really good" condition.

And this is the part of cruising that drives many to denounce this lifestyle. This is even the part of cruising that wears down others enough to actually 'swallow the anchor' and move back to land. Most landlubbers have no idea how much work it takes to keep a full-time cruising boat afloat and in good working order. "I had no idea how hard this would be" is a cry I've heard from many a new cruiser. It can be a real shock to the person who envisioned cruising to be all that it looks like from our Facebook Pages (which, understandably, share predominantly the good stuff...and, don't get me wrong, there's a lot of good stuff).

What's worse is the fact that if you don't know how to fix the systems yourself, you are paying handsomely to have someone else do it for you.  I've written before on the virtues of having a handy person aboard, and it warrants repeating: if you want to live on a boat in paradise, get ready to roll up your shirt sleeves. It's work. Not "desk job" 9-5 work, but back-breaking, jury-rigging, bang-your-head-against-the-wall, contort-yourself-like-a-freak-show and sweat-a-full-bucket-while-you-do-it McGuyver-style work. It's unpredictable, it's sink or swim, and it often comes at the most inopportune time (example: engine dies as you are navigating a rough cut between islands). And before you tell me that "it sure beats XYZ", know that once the cruising honeymoon wears off, constantly "fixing your boat in exotic locations" (and possibly in hairy situations) can be incredibly frustrating, discouraging and downright maddening. Because it's not just the fixing that needs to happen, but the diagnosing (sometimes the hardest part of all), the sourcing of parts, and the research as well. Throw three small children into the mix who require a lot of attention and need naps at various times throughout the day (read: shhhhhhh!!!!) and it gets pretty tricky staying on top of it all. Sometimes, from our perspective, your cozy traditional home with unlimited power, water, amenities, proximity to child care and Trader Joe's looks just as appealing to us as our palm lined white sand beaches look to you. 

Sometimes. 

Don't get me wrong, it's the yin to the yang and the price we willingly pay for the tremendous benefits of this life afloat... but that doesn't mean we love it all the time. That is just life. There is no Utopia. For me living on a boat in the tropics with my family is about as close as it gets, but every rose has it's thorn and while I don't write this to complain, I do strive to paint a realistic picture.

I digress...

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here's a condensed list of what has broken on our boat in the last five months. It's important to note that we are not doing any "hard core" sailing or long passages, so wear and tear is way less on our boat than, say, a boat that is doing more serious miles or an ocean crossing. We do short (>4 hour) day sails and island hops, but sail often and all our our systems (from watermaker to windlass) are used regularly. These breakdowns are in no particular order and don't include the litany of things we fixed immediately when we came down here, nor do they include the impressive amount of general maintenance (must. polish. stainless.) that has to happen regularly. It also does not include the high priority "want to do" things like rewiring certain areas of the boat, finding a new home for our fridge compressor, getting our freezer up and running and re-locating our battery bank.

Here's whats broken this season:

1. We discovered our starboard side aluminum fuel tank has corroded and developed a pin hole leak. This is what you would consider a "BIG" (and probably very expensive) problem. Luckily for us, we have two very large fuel tanks and the leaky one was just about empty. Scott put together a pump to remove fuel from the leaky tank to the good tank with an old pump (read: sub-project) and we are still figuring out how and when we are going to deal with this issue.
2. Scott has had to repair the "boost pump" on our water maker three times (by literally taking it apart and fixing teeny tiny pieces that I think might be called 'scrubbers') and he's now just installed a brand new boost pump to hopefully remedy this issue. This job required electrical know-how, plumbing savvy, the mind of a Tetris champion, the hands of a surgeon and a lot of patience. (If you are counting, there are four fix-it projects within this one.)
3. Our mast was leaking. That needed to be fixed, stat. We used Spartite, it has proven effective.
4. Our generator's heat exchanger needed something super important. I can't remember what. I was chasing babies, managing tantrums and changing diapers. But it was a big thing, I remember that. Scott was in the engine compartment for a long time. Something about the raw water pump perhaps?
5. Our generator's battery died and needed replacing (we've since reconfigured our battery bank, see #10). A simple fix, but a nuisance none the less.
6. When letting out all our chain to see exactly how much we had marked, our windlass died and started sparking. Turns out, it was wired wrong and actually was a huge fire hazard. (Bullet: Dodged). Scott put on his electrician hat and fixed it. Now it works better than before. Oh, and now we know for sure we have 275 feet of chain marked. Win/win.
7. We ran out of propane. No biggie. Luckily we were able to have it refilled quickly (not always the case) but it sucked none the less.
8. The wooden seat on our bowsprit broke off in some nasty waves. Whatever, we never used it anyway. It sits in our cockpit locker until we have the "time" to fix it. Hahaha!! Time?!?! What's that?!?! Let's be honest, this is so low priority it's not getting done for a loooong time. Or ever.
9. Our engine's thermostat needed replacing because our engine kept giving us a false overheating alarm. We did it, but it seems our issue is back, though our engine is not overheating. Hmmmm. The plot thickens.
10. Our chart plotter has gone on the fritz and is more or less unusable. Thanks, Raymarine. Point for backup systems (handheld GPS) and paper charts!
11. A hose clamp came loose from our forward head sink, so that every time we used the water, most of it ended up in our bilge. Simple fix. But tracing back where all that water was coming from and why the bilge pump was going off was a bit tricky. 
12. Our galley plumbing consists of some cheap house-hold plumping (note: must replace all of it...later). One of the pipe fittings came loose under the sink gushing impressive amounts of saltwater into our bilge. Simple straightforward fix, but a bit alarming when Scott first noticed the bilge pump running non-stop and even more alarming when I looked into the bilge and saw a hefty river of saltwater rushing into our boat. This was all before the morning's first cup of coffee, mind you. I don't function well these days without coffee (see #7).
13. Our house battery bank died. Turns out, the crappy batteries we bought for a small fortune in St. Kitts were not a good "long term" solution (we had no other options at the time) so we needed to replace them. While doing this, Scott rewired our start battery and reconfigured our house bank (read: job within a job). We're pretty happy with our new setup. Our battery situation was far from perfect so this was a blessing in disguise. Side note: Boat batteries are not cheap (and my God are they heavy!)
14. Our outhaul snapped. We tied it to a u-bolt on the boom with a bowline, called it good and said we would fix it properly "later". This was about three months ago. Again...time?! What's time!?!
15. Our aft head clogged and needed to be unclogged. My poor sister was the one to do it (unclog it, I mean.)
16. Our aft head needs to be rebuilt.  When our toilet began to seep in seawater, it was a minor annoyance. Scott switched out the forward and aft head pumps and that solved our issue for a while, but the issues persists and it's clear we need some new o-rings and seals and a new toilet pump shaft. These items need to be sourced from the states and shipped down here. Not an urgent matter, but stepping onto a wet floor near a toilet (even if it is only seawater) is...gross.
17. All of our portholes need re-bedding and a good polish. We have eighteen of them. This is an incredibly laborious job that we just haven't had the time for. Say it with me folks...Time!?! What's that!?!?
18. Just about every wooden surface on our boat needs re-varnishing. Again, suuuper low priority and very labor intensive. Aka: This is not happening.

Hmmm...I think that's about it. Not too bad, really. But we could do without the leaking fuel tank. That one's gonna be a doozy.

And this right here might answer the age old question of "Why do sailors drink so much rum?" Answer: Because you need it at the end of long, fruitless day spent in a 110 degree engine room trying to diagnose why your thermostat isn't reading properly, or after a full day on the phone calling various islands trying to source batteries for your boat, or after four hours dealing with cranky customs people only to find out they're not the agency you need to deal with. You especially need it to celebrate the wins; the parts sourced, the cost-effective DIY that worked like butta, the problem solved... Okay, that and the fact that rum is literally cheaper than water down here. But still, like parenthood, cruising is a job that is not recognized as such. No one pats you on the back and says, "Well done" and the moments where you truly shine are often unseen. We don't do this for the accolades. Like parenthood, cruising is one of the most rewarding and gratifying jobs' you will ever love, despite the all the "work" it takes to keep going.

Until the next thing breaks, of course. But then, there's the rum.

What would us cruisers do without Nigel? 

The leaky fuel tank. This really warrants it's own blog post. Huge can of worms right here.

Scott jury-rigging a pump to siphon fuel from one tank to another.

Eben and Scott removing and installing our new battery bank.

Parenthood and Cruising: Two of The Hardest Jobs You'll Ever Love

We got away from the marina for a solid two days. That's something.

But, alas, we find ourselves back here at Nanny Cay.  Except this time, instead of greeting visitors, we are waiting on marine mechanics to help diagnose why our generator went on the fritz.

So back to "work" we go.

"I am literally fixing something every day," Scott lamented over coffee this morning, "Every. Single. Day," he punctuated. And it's true, he is. Cruising really and truly is fixing your boat in exotic locations. Sometimes the fixes are simple and more of the preventative nature, like re-sealing a slightly leaky porthole or stitching a torn sail ... other times it's more serious, like the ceasing of a major mechanical system or breakdown of something structural. These things usually require much more time and effort (which is usually synonymous with money) like the attention of a professional, time at a marina, and/or a special part flown in. These are the issues many cruisers lament. Our current conundrum is one such issue. <sigh>

For many "self-sufficient" sailboats, a generator is something of a luxury, these boats have enough solar and/or wind power to keep their batteries topped up and usually have minimal power demands to begin with. We are not that boat. We are what I like to call "cozy cruisers." Our boat is more than a vessel made to take us places, it's also our home and, as such, we like certain amenities. We enjoy our three speed fans, we prefer our water to be pressurized (and warm if we feel so inclined!), we enjoy having ice and cold drinks, we have gadgets (both personal and boat-y) that need to be charged pretty regularly, and we LOVE fresh water. Lots of it. While we have a nice little solar set up that can usually keep our batteries topped up at anchor when the sun shines unobstructed, we will almost inevitably fall behind after two or three days.  Which is when we make water. We run our generator to make precious H2O for two or three hours after which we have full water tanks, charged up appliances, and boat batteries that are fully loaded. It's a nice system that works really well for us.

Until our generator craps out, of course. Then we are kind of screwed.

Which is why we are back at the marina where I can take the girls to the beach or on a walk so Scott can work on the boat, something that is almost impossible with three little ones aboard.

Let me tell you, chasing around three small children is exhausting. My day is a blur of diaper changes, meal preparation, nursing sessions, playtime, tear wiping, hazard removal, snack-plying, soothing and near-constant tidying up. I almost never stop moving. Like any full-time, stay at home mom I have very few precious minutes to myself. When the babies sleep, I am usually cleaning, doing laundry or running an errand. If I am lucky, I have an hour or two every few days of computer time in which to blog. Don't get me wrong, I know that I am beyond blessed. Being a mom is the greatest thing in the world to me and I love it more than anything (for real) - but holy crap, it's a lot of work.

And this is where cruising and parenting are very similar: they truly are two of the hardest "jobs" you will ever love. And despite the fact that both come with more stress and responsibility than any "paying" job ever will, you will not, in fact, get paid for raising humans or keeping a sailboat afloat. Wah wah.

So how, exactly, are cruising and parenting similar you ask?

The Daily Grind
With cruising and parenting every day is, indeed, an adventure, but both require a pretty rigorous daily grind of SOP's and routines. And, believe me, it can be a grind. Both are incredibly challenging, exhausting, frustrating and sometimes you will question what the hell you are doing. Though there are a million books, blogs, and articles on the subjects - neither come with a manual and much of the information you find out there is either bogus, a matter of personal opinion or contradictory. There is no "one size fits all" approach to cruising and parenting, and we all must do what works best for our boats, situations and families.

Lack of Control
With both cruising and parenting, there is an almost complete lack of control; kids are not robots who can be programmed despite our best efforts (oh how lovely it would be to hit the "sleep through the night", "stop tantruming", or "do as you're told" buttons!) and, as cruisers, our lives are often dictated by mother nature and/or our boats (and their finicky systems!) despite our personal wishes. For a major "type A" person like myself, this one is a hard one to deal with.

Responsibility
Raising children and living on a cruising sailboat require a tremendous amount of responsibility. As cruisers we have to be riggers, plumbers, electricians and mechanics to keep our boats running. As parents, we must be teachers, role models, disciplinarians and supporters. Our kids' health, happiness and safety falls entirely on our shoulders. We all hope to screw up as little as possible - even though screwing up is inevitable and par for the course in both parenting and cruising. The primary goals are to keep the kids alive, raise good, happy people and keep the boat afloat and working smoothly. Pretty tall orders.

The Hours
Boats and babies will demand your attention 24/7. Both will wake you up in the middle of the night on a regular basis. Children, like boats, require a tremendous amount of attention and TLC to keep in good order. If neglected, you will pay dearly in either a mini Spencer Pratt or a derelict boat - both of which have the potential to be the bane of your existence. We do everything in our power to avoid such outcomes, and to avoid these outcomes, you've got to put in the hours. These are jobs that you can never step away from. There is no break room out here.

Extremes
Like parenting, cruising is a life of extremes where a day can go from hunky-dory to "oh $*@*" in a matter of seconds. One minute you are a boss mom with three well behaved little ones at the park, the next your toddler is pitching a fit because she's mad at the wind while one twin is wandering into the street and the other is eating a cigarette butt. One minute you are a boss sailor enjoying a lovely beam reach, the next minute you blow a halyard, your autopilot craps out and all hell breaks loose. Zero to utter mayhem in the blink of an eye. For real.

The Stress
Living in tight quarters is stressful. Approaching storms are stressful. Dragging anchor in the middle of the night is stressful. Rough passages are stressful. Breaking stuff is stressful. Having sick kids is stressful. Dealing with tantrums is stressful. Three children running in different directions is stressful. Having to chose which crying infant to pick up first is stressful. You will worry incessantly about your kids getting hurt, bullied or worse. You worry regularly about your boat being holed by a floating object or catching fire. The anxiety of what could happen is ever present and must be kept at bay. This is not easy.

Risks
Taking risks and facing the unknown are regular occurrences as cruisers and parents. Sometimes you have to put trust that your boat and your kids can weather the storms thrown at them. Parenthood, like cruising, can - and will - scare the #*$& out of you daily. Both will force you to take a good, hard look at yourself. Both will show you what you are made of, and both will be glaring reminders of what you need to work on. Sometimes, you just gotta "let it go" and trust that everything will be okay. Again, not easy for someone like me.

The "Ick" Factor
Cruising and parenting are dirty jobs. Working in an engine room is messy. Changing oil is messy. Replacing a hose is messy. Dealing with snot and puke is messy. Feeding babies is messy. Injuries are messy. Changing diapers is messy. You will deal with a lot of poop, this is a fact.

Cruising, like parenthood, will test you in almost every way imaginable.

But it will be so worth it.

Because despite of all this (or possibly because of it?) there is the potential to be rewarded in ways you cannot even imagine. Cruising and parenthood will teach you about life and the world. They will make you a better, more thoughtful person. They will teach you to live in the moment and appreciate the "now". Both will enrich your life and change you forever in the most profound ways.

So we keep moving forward. We put one foot in front of the other day after day, despite the frustration, the exhaustion, the uncertainty and the seemingly never-ending task lists because we made the (very conscious) choices that brought us here. Always on the hunt for that perfect passage, that incredible beach, or that serendipitous meeting that results in a life-long friendship. Every day is a search for that deep belly baby giggle (best thing ever), the spontaneous snuggle that melts your heart (best thing ever) and the promise of being greeted by those precious, adorable smiles every morning (best thing ever) - day after day after day. It's all about the love.

And because of this, we take the good with the bad. We count our wins and learn from our losses. Because all of the cliches are true: Life is short. It goes by in an instant. Enjoy every moment. We only live once...

So we do what we can to make it count, because - at the end of the day - it's just a generator. And as frustrating as getting that damn thing working again may be, it's all part of the journey.

It's a Small World...When You've Got a Blog

Most of the time, I love the fact that we have a blog. It's given me a wonderful outlet to write, gotten us some amazing deals on gear, resulted in some cool sponsorships, and - best of all - has connected us with some incredible people all over the world.  The fact that our blog has a decent sized readership combined with the fact that we now find ourselves in the charter capital of the world means that we, at times, can be "recognized" while we are out and about which is pretty interesting, if not a little shocking. In the past week, we've witnessed no fewer than four "light bulb" moments when the people we've been talking to around the marina or by the pool all of a sudden either a) tally the children who are with us or b) see our boat and say, "Wait a minute! You guys have that blog, right? You are Windtraveler!" Yep. That's us. I must admit it's a tiny bit embarrassing (I mean, to be recognized by strangers for blogging?) but also pretty cool. We have yet to meet a follower who was not completely wonderful, interesting and kind. We have great readers, that is for sure.

The other cool thing about blogging is the blogging community itself. Right now there are quite a few fellow bloggers in the area and last week we got to meet up with Carly and her lovely family of Salty Kisses (if you think we are crazy, check them out! They are attempting the Northwest Passage with their three kiddos this summer). We've also had the pleasure to meet a couple long-time followers who'd emailed us in advance telling us they'd be in the area and would we be able to meet to say hello? Of course we are crazy busy at the moment, so gone are the days when we can kick back in the cockpit with a few cold ones, but I'm always happy to say hello and (if projects allow) give people a little tour of our boat. That said, I would particularly like to say thanks to Mark and his beautiful daughter, Lauren, for making the effort to stop by after their charter trip (Lauren - the world is your oyster, girl!) it was great to meet you both and I'm only sorry we couldn't have hung out longer. I also owe a very big THANK YOU to the Pingle Family (I'm talking to you Walter and Colleen!) who randomly recognized us by the pool, and then gave us a very generous cash donation for "all the blog entertainment throughout the years." Me being me, of course, got misty eyed at this incredible kindness and had a hard time accepting it. But then we went to Budget Marine and saw that the simple fan for Isla's berth was over $100 so we graciously accepted and thanked them in advance for keeping Isla cool at night.

In hindsight, I wish I would have gotten photos with all these great people but these days my brain is pretty fried. Between the tropical heat, my running around like a crazy lady all day long, and the fact that many nights I lay awake making lists and walking through scenarios in my head means I am usually a little "slow on the uptake" as it were. So I have no pictures of these great folks other than those in my mind's eye. It'll have to do.

As for projects, we have gotten a ton of great stuff done and while we're definitely feeling the pressure of our less than one week countdown (AJ leaves Wednesday, Grandma leaves Saturday - once our helpers leave, work will come to a screeching halt) we are feeling pretty good about what is going on. Our boat will seriously be better than ever in so many ways and this feels very good.

We have hired out some work in the interest of time, but the bulk of it has been done by Scott and AJ. Here's a list of what we have done - in no particular order- and what are working on, in case you are curious:

• Bottom painted and hull polished (done by yard before we got down)
• Replaced all zincs
• Tested all thru-hulls
• All lines re-run and sails put back on
• Polished all (well, most!) stainless
• Checked engine/genset zincs
• Re-wired our Rogue wave WiFi booster (new antenna on the way)
• Slowed leak on our generator heat exchanger (new end cap and assembly on the way)
• Designed twin berth (the local sailmaker is tackling this, as it was too complex for me to sew)
• Designed twin dinghy seat (local sailmaker tackling this as well)
• Re-purposed old (very cumbersome) cockpit table into additional shelving throughout the boat
• Added two more shelves in hanging lockers adding a LOT more usable storage space
• Removed our old microwave (we never used it) and added a shelf for food storage
• Added a fan in the walk through for Isla's berth
• Designed a lee board for Isla's berth (local wood worker made this, we didn't have the length of wood we needed)
• Designed additional counter space by having the local woodworker re-purpose an old countertop into cutting board covers for sink and stove
• Moved light in the v-berth from port to starboard side so not in the twin bunk (little fingers would have found it for sure!) and added one additional light
• Re-bedded leaky deck prism
• Fixed leaking forward hatch
• Serviced a ceased winch (checked all others - fine)
• Added washer to bow roller shaft to eliminate clunking noise when boat swings at anchor
• Checked all toilets to ensure they work (they do - phew!)
• Mounted the brackets for Isla's lee board (her little bed rocks!)
• Re-wired engine starter circuit (there were some fried wires in there from a previous issue)
• Replaced DC outlets in the salon and moved DC outlet port from Isla's bunk to the nav station (important for a power-hungry bloggers' office!)

We have created a ton of space and, right now, our boat is more or less empty of personal effects which means we *should* have plenty of room for all our toys, clothes and (gulp) the provisions (have I mentioned how much I despise provisioning?) One of the many things I love about this boat is the fact that she has a ton of storage. We'll need it!

While there has been a lot of work going on, don't be fooled... There's been a little play as well. My mom and I take the girls to the pool almost daily (they are definitely the fish they were predestined to be!) and we take loads of walks around the lovely marina ground that is Nanny Cay. By 7pm when the kiddos are in bed, the boys and I usually head to the local beach bar for a nightcap to discuss the day's work and make a list for the next day, it's a nice way to unwind and lists made over cold beers are always better. 

Alight...Back to work! Here's some pics of progress and our daily life for you...

Added additional counter space over the stove

We added the middle shelf, and some more decorative bins for one of the main toy storage areas

Removed the microwave from this space (not pictured) and added a shelf for additional (easy access) food storage

Replaced the old starboard sink cover with a butcher block one. Much nicer.

Work and play, work and play. 

Carly and I enjoying some cocktails sans kiddos!

The beginnings of Isla's bunk!

And...She's Out: Asante on the Hard

Yesterday was a sad day for our beauty of a boat.  She was plucked from the water and is now sitting on jack stands where she will say for the next twelve to eighteen months (give or take) while we focus on "operation twinsanity".  Scott and my father worked around the clock the past few days removing sails, halyards, all loose deck hardware, fresh water flushing all systems and - in general - working to decommission our boat which, let me tell you, is not an easy job (huge "thank you" to my dad for his help.  Words cannot express our gratitude).  Scott and I have been down this road before and we are incredibly meticulous about the way we put a boat to bed, particularly if it's going to be for an extended period of time.  Doing things the right way now ensures that we will return to our boat just as we left her later.  That's the idea, anyway.

We had many, many discussions about what we would do with our boat when we made the decision to come home for more than a few months (which was our original plan when we thought it was only one baby).  There was talk about storing her in Trinidad as we did with Rasmus - it is outside the hurricane zone, and we already have a great relationship with a top notch facility there.  Ultimately, though - we didn't want to start sailing from that point again.  Then we thought that maybe delivering her to Ft. Lauderdale would better; we know the area well, have good relationships there and it would be an ideal place to get some work done.  The other benefit is that it would provide a great jumping off point to cruise the Bahamas again which would be an ideal place to begin cruising with three small kids (no long passages, easy sailing, beautiful and familiar to us...etc) - but we scrapped that idea too.  We even discussed delivering her back to the Great Lakes so that we could do work and sail/cruise with our kids starting much earlier here in Chicago.  But that was a logistical nightmare and we weren't sure the costs associated with doing this would be worth it based on how much we'd actually be able to use her (see: "operation twinsanity"), not to mention the fact that my parents have a sailboat in the city that they have said we can use and cruise whenever we please (as long as they're not, of course)....so where did that leave us?

Up until a few days before I left, we were going to store our boat in St. Maarten, but after looking further into it - Scott wasn't too impressed with the facilities there so we looked across the Anegada passage to the British Virgin Islands.  Ultimately, we decided to store our boat at Nanny Cay Marina on Tortola which is a top rate facility and a natural "hurricane hole" (a big deal as we will be in the "zone" this coming hurricane season).  We heard from one blog follower whose boat endured five hurricanes on the hard at Nanny Cay with zero damage.  That's not a bad track record.  The fact that there are a TON of excellent services (chandlery, sail loft, shipwright, boat guardianage, riggers, fiberglass repair services and custom woodworkers...etc) right on the premises was the icing on the cake.  It's not cheap, but thankfully because we will not be paying rent for a house while we are landlubbing, we can afford it.

Asante will be on the hard in a cradle and will be further secured to the ground with hurricane screws.  Her sails have been removed and will be properly stored in a sail loft.  Scott has commissioned for more hatch covers to be made to keep sun out and he purchased some very small solar panels to trickle charge our batteries (we remove our flexible solar panels and store them) so that our bilge pump keeps running.  A humidifier will be kept inside to keep mold at bay and we have employed someone to do monthly checks on her to make sure everything is as it should be.  Because we might have some custom work done while we are away, we have opened communication with a project management company that can oversee any work we want done.  Overall, we are very happy with our decision.

Another big consideration for us was where we wanted to begin cruising again as a family of five.  We have no disillusions about the fact that this is going to be a huge challenge for us and, in our opinion, spending a month or two in the BVI's to "get our feet wet" when we return in 2015 will tell us what we need to know about cruising with three tots in tow.  We think it will be a perfect training ground to practice living afloat with our three girls without having to do any long passages (hard enough with ONE baby!) and staying close to modern facilities (BVI's are very well developed), but still getting a nice dose of islands, sun and sand.

That's the plan for now.  But as we all know, plans are written in sand around here so who knows what the future holds for us...we're excited to find out.  One thing is for sure, Scott comes back to us on Friday after six weeks apart.  We can't wait to have our family back together again!  Time to hunker down and get ready for our girls to be born....and come up with some names for them (aye, aye, aye).

Packing Up and Shipping Out

Should packing up be this much fun?

It never ceases to amaze me how much stuff you can accumulate on a boat.  It's insane, actually.  Live-aboard cruising boats are like the Mary Poppin's carpet bag on steroids.  We learned this lesson the first time we packed up our boat, and I am learning it again this time around.  Where the heck did all these clothes come from?  How many towels, sheet sets and blankets can one boat have?  And exactly how many was I planning to feed with all these canned goods?  Thankfully, my amazing mother flew down the other day to help me out.  Packing up all your worldly belongings and then traveling with them through three airports over the course of a day is a lot to handle alone, never mind twenty-six weeks pregnant while accompanied by a very active toddler.  So, being the awesome mother she is (and, okay, her grandmotherly adoration was definitely a motivator as well) she flew down to help me pack up and ship out, as it were.

While we are not taking everything off the boat (like spares, charts, galley gear, books and any thing strictly 'boat' related) like we did when we moved off of our first boat, Rasmus, I am prepping this boat to be left for over a year.  We want to come back to no surprises which further means I have had my work cut out for me.  An unused boat on the hard can harbor a litany of unpleasant surprises if you don't pay careful attention to how you put it away (mold and bugs come to mind).  All the food has come off, yes, even the non-perishables.  Every last can, morsel and spice must go bye-bye (our friends have been happy recipients of the bounty).  I have put every single one of our paper books into a large water-tight bin so that - should a leak occur (best to assume the worst-case scenario imo) - we do not return to ruined, moldy pages.  All our towels, throw rugs, and linens have been washed and stowed in airtight bags, again to prevent them from getting wet and moldy.  I have de-cluttered and cleaned out all our hanging lockers and cupboards.  I have packed up pretty much all of our clothes and the ones I have left are, again, sealed in bags.  Isla's beloved toys have been put in a box to ship home.  The fridge has been emptied and cleaned.  Toiletries have been removed, medicine boxes have been cleaned out, old sunscreen has been tossed, trinkets stowed away and anything we haven't used in the last year has either been donated or trashed.  Today the interior of the boat is getting a through cleaning.  It's been a busy and slightly hectic couple of days and, for an organization junkie like myself, it feels pretty good to be on the finishing end of it.  I'm the kind of person who, before a vacation, would clean her entire apartment (laundry and all) just to ensure I came back to a nice, welcoming place where I could kick back my feet.  Same goes for the boat (though you will never return to a decommissioned boat and kick up your feet!).

Of course there is a lot of other stuff to do.  Boaty-type stuff like remove sails, halyards, solar panels...etc.  Luckily, Scott is returning to the boat in four weeks after this last work rotation at which point he will sail her to the British Virgin Islands where Asante will be hauled out and put on the hard to await our return as a crew of five (!?).  He will be able to finish where I left off so the urgency is not 100% on me at the moment, though I do want to make his job as easy for him as possible.  The goal in all this, of course, is to come back to the same pristine boat that I am sitting on right now (though we do plan on having some modifications made to make the boat more family-of-five friendly).

So that is where I am at right now.  We fly out tomorrow morning, bright and early.  Luckily, the busyness of it all and the distractions (and help!) of our amazing friends have forced me to focus on the now and not dwell on the fact that this is my last full day on our boat for a very long time.  If idle hands are the devil's playground, an idle mind is his nice and cozy living room where he plots his games so keeping busy has helped me from getting too nostalgic and emotional about it all (read: sobbing like a baby).

Also - I need to thank you guys for the incredible outpouring of support, love and awesomeness I have received (and continue to receive) since my last post.  Man, I love you folks.  For real.  Looks like a lot of you could care less if we are actually cruising or sailing and are happy to jump ship and follow us wherever we go - so thank you for that, this makes me happy.  Your kind words and support brought me to tears of joy and while I do not have the time to get back to each and every one of you at the moment, I do feel compelled to say THANK YOU collectively.  I really, really appreciate all the love.

The next post you read from me will be from a northern latitude.  Wish me warmness from the inside out 'cause the cold will be quite a shock to this system!

Checked Your Sea Strainer Lately? The Story of "The Stink"

All this gunk created quite a funk.

The odor had been a menace each time we flushed our toilets ever since we returned from our three week vacation in Chicago.  It was foul.  No.  It was beyond foul.  Had I still been in the clutches of the debilitating morning sickness I suffered during month two of this pregnancy, I would have wretched with every pump of the toilet handle.  It smelled of rotten eggs combined with decaying god-knows-what and the aroma filled the cavity of our boat effortlessly with every flush, regardless if the bathroom-goer went numero uno or dos.  Our boat began to smell like one giant (and incredibly offensive) fart.  It was very unpleasant and no amount of Nag Champa (the incense of choice on our boat) could mask it.

Houston, we had a problem.

Living on a boat means that sometimes you live in or with circumstances that you might not otherwise (case in point: our roach situation which has since been eradicated).  You become a little harder, a little more rugged and you may or may not pee in the sink from time to time (never EVER the kitchen sink, mind you).  The standards you might have upheld in your landlubber life sort of go by the wayside; you wear the same clothes every day, regularly shower  in salt water with Joy dish soap and when you have friends over and your boat suddenly emits a plume of rotten egg tainted air into the cockpit as your partner flushes the toilet (or "head" as we boaters like to call it), you just shrug and say casually, "somethings going on with our hoses" and everyone nods in sympathy while they continue to dig into the pasta primavera.  No big deal.

After living with the stench for over a month (and complaining about it daily), we reluctantly accepted the mystery odor like an unwelcome houseguest.  It got worse and worse until finally we couldn't take it anymore.  "What if we just open up the sea strainer and clean it out?" I asked Scott one day thinking that perhaps it could be the culprit.  He had figured the offender was our sea chest and had been devising a plan to take it apart and clean it out (not a small job, mind you).  That seemed like overkill to me so I suggested what seemed to be the logical, easier step, first.  "No, that wouldn't be it" he said, shaking his head, "that just pulls in sea water, it's always running through there...." he trailed off.  I explained to him that, yes, it did strain sea water but it also collected gunk - and that gunk could create quite a funk if left stagnant for three weeks (stagnant salt water, for those who don't know, goes rogue fast and it ain't pretty.)

He was leery but he also knows that I have good instincts when it comes to this lifestyle so the other day, after a particularly foul flush, he decided to try cleaning it out as the first line of defense against what will forever be known as "the stink".

Long story short:  it worked.  He pulled out the soiled strainer and it was a disgusting mess of filth and grime.  He scrubbed it and made it look like new and put it back in it's housing.  He flushed the toilet and waited for the odor to slap him in the face.  He continued to flush.  It never came.  We can now flush our toilets without having to don Hazmat suits.  And Scott even gave me mad props by peppering me with phrases like "You are so smart!", "I'm so lucky to have a handy wife" and (every woman's personal favorite): "You were right".  Sigh.  Music to my ears.

Anyway, the point is:  if there is a mystery smell coming from any of the hoses in your boat, before you spend a ton of time, money and energy replacing hoses or cleaning out sea chests, you might want to try cleaning the sea strainer first.  Start small and work your way up.

Common sense can get you pretty far on a boat and more often than not, the most simple solution is the answer.

The gunk, and subsequent funk, are now gone.  Free at last!

Bedding with Butyl Tape

Leaks.  They are, quite possibly, one of the more (if not the most) annoying malady to befall the cruising sailboat.  If they are below the waterline, they can prove catastrophic (as in; your boat can sink).  If they are above, they can be madness inducing, teak-tweaking and gear-ruining.  Lucky for us the leaks we have had have always been topside, and - even luckier - their origins have always been obvious.  There are plenty of accounts of leaky boats who's sources are nothing short of a mystery.  It is not unusual to see water coming into, say, an aft hanging locker - only to trace it all the way to a poorly bedded cleat up on the bow days, weeks or months later.  Water, being what it is, has a way of migrating before entering the interior of the boat and playing detective in this regard has been known to cause some cursing.

Speaking of bedding (and, no, I am not talking about the new queen set that you found on overstock.com), the majority of topside leaks will come from poorly bedded deck hardware.  For those who have no idea what I am talking about, the art of "bedding" deck hardware is mounting and installing it to the deck.  Cleats, portholes, chainplates, stanchions..etc.  Don't be fooled though.  This is no small task!  There are literally hundreds of holes drilled into our deck for various pieces of hardware which means there are hundreds places that water can potentially enter our boat, so the job must be done with painstaking care.  Nothing will make you curse the previous owner of your boat more than discovering what a crap job he/she did bedding deck hardware and, for better or worse, the attention they paid to this crucial job is pretty indicative of the way they maintained their boat.

So far, our only leaks have come from our portholes (aka 'windows') in our cabin.  We need to re-bed about six out of fifteen.  I have mentioned before that being a full-time boat mommy has pretty much nixed my ability to help with boat work (dang!) but one thing I am still very, very good at is research.  When investigating the best bedding compound, I discovered (and kind of fell in love with - in a deep respect sort of way) "Maine Sail" of Compass Marine.  He is all sorts of awesome and his site is full of how to do a litany of boat projects the right way.  It was through him I learned the beauty of Butyl Tape.

Scott got to work removing our old porthole, and discovered that it was bedded with the dreaded silicone.  Silicone SUCKS.  Say it with me people, "silicone sucks" and, in our opinion, has no place bedding deck hardware.  After spending a few hours painstakingly scraping away all the silicone remnants, he epoxied the inside of the window cavity (so that if any water gets in, it's not absorbed by the core) applied the butyl tape around the edge of the porthole, and wedged it in.  He then - for good measure - applied some 3M 4000 UV to the outside casing of the porthole and put the thing back together.  Between the epoxy, butyl tape and 4000, we are 100% leak-free (and yes, it has been put to the test!)

Since we're far from experts, that's about as step by step as I want to go, but if you are curious about using butyl tape to bed your deck hardware the proper way*, please check out this article.

*There's more than one way to skin a cat and I am sure plenty of you have leak-free boats that swear by other products, but for us butyl tape is the way to go for bedding deck stuff from now on.

The role of butyl tape

Scrapey McScraperton.  This is the most annoying part of the job for sure.

So it helps to have a very good friend around for moral support.   Ben Affleck and Jake Gyllenhal in the Hiz-OUSE!

Applying some butyl.

Peek-a-boo! Clamping the porthole into place.

The outer edge of the window was sealed with some UV400.

Tools of the trade.

Look, ma!! No leaks!

Top 10 Tuesdays: Ten Things Freshman Cruisers Should Know Before Shoving Off

Motoring away from our home port in Chicago for the last time September 2010

I was asked to write this post by a soon-to-be-cruiser for her series on The Monkey's Fist which is a site that collects the perspectives of a bunch of bloggers on specific topics related to all things cruising.  Since I tend to like top ten lists and am always happy to help others, I thought I would oblige - despite the fact that I still feel very strongly that we are "freshman" in this vagabond existence.  Even still, we have learned a thing or two over the past few years and perhaps others can benefit from these snippets...or not.  Of course lists like these are totally subjective, and the ten things I am going to rattle off will almost certainly differ from the ten things someone else might list, but for what it's worth, here are ten things we are glad we knew - or wish we did - before shoving off:

Ten (okay, eleven) Things Freshman Cruisers Should Know Before Shoving Off

1. Fixing your boat is going to get old. We've all heard the cliche, "cruising is doing boat work in exotic places!" Yawn.  Yes, it's true.  But not all of us are slaving away on our boats every single day chasing down problem after problem.  Just like everything in life, some have it harder than others.  How much work you end up doing depends on a couple things, namely:  your boat and how well you maintain it.  If you left the dock two days after buying a boat on Craigslist for a song, you will most likely be doing a lot more work underway than the person who put a little more money and work into their boat before leaving.  But no matter what, no one gets away Scott-free.  Stuff will break.  You will have to fix it.  This will get tremendously annoying from time to time and, yes, it will get old.  The more handy you are, the more you will enjoy cruising.  There is a direct correlation in my opinion, so get a how-to book and start practicing! 
2. Do not underestimate the value of good cockpit cushions.  Bottom and back!  Seriously, if you are going to be spending a lot of time on your boat, you'll spend a lot of time in your cockpit and a little added comfort goes a VERY long way for your tush.  On our last boat we had foam cushions covered in Sunbrella which were great but got wet and required drying out after a rough passage or wet weather, this boat came with closed-cell foam cushions which are - bar none - the best.  No maintenance, all the comfort.  We also have four "outdoor" throw pillows that live in the cockpit as well, and despite the fact that Scott scoffed at having throw pillows on deck ("this is a BOAT, Brittany") he has since changed his tune and thanked me for them on more than one occasion.  Our cockpit is comfy-cozy.
3. Beware of advice from others.  Take it with a grain of salt.  Take some (particularly that from the anonymous "arm chair" pundits) with a bucketful of it, in fact.  I'm talking about all advice here: advice on forums, advice from peers, from other cruisers, and - yes - even advice you read on this blog.  Cruising is so very much like parenting, nobody does it exactly the same - and there are about a million ways to do a million different things.  Best cruising grounds, what sort of cruising gear to get, best boat model, type of safety equipment, how to organize, when and where to go, what to make for dinner...the list is endless and everyone has an opinion.  Do your homework, use your boat and figure out what is best for you.  
4. Baby steps, people.  For those of us who leave from the East Coast, we have a huge advantage in that there is a natural progression of difficulty as you head south and east.  The route we went first took us through the Great Lakes - which was fun and helped us get our feet wet.  Then, we traversed the Erie Canal - got some experience with unstepping and stepping our rig, introduced us to locks and acquainted us with running our engine and the regular maintenance that requires.  From there, we did the Husdon River which soon gave way to the Atlantic Ocean.  Sailing offshore on the East Coast was challenging (we got our first lessons in how inaccurate weather prediction is!) and exhilarating (big winds, big seas) and from there we found ourselves in the Intracoastal waterway which introduced us to anchoring and the wonderful world of currents and tides.  From there, we cruised the Bahamas which is without a doubt the beginning cruisers dream.  It's easy sailing, easy anchoring, no long passages are necessary and you're never too far from facilities and help should you need them.  After the Bahamas, things got more challenging.  More attention had to be paid to the weather, we dealt with much bigger seas, longer passages, more overnights, more challenging anchoring scenarios...the list goes on.  My point is this:  each stage was a milestone that, once graduated from, prepared us better for the next.  We feel very lucky that this is how we got our start.  Though I have zero experience with it, I would be hard-pressed to suggest any new sailor hop on their boat and cross an ocean.  I'm sure it's been done, but I think the learning curve we experienced was a beneficial one.  Baby steps.  Rome was not conquered in day, and you have nothing to prove to anyone.
5. Recognize the difference between wants and needs.  This is a big one, especially if you are doing a refit.  I could go on and on, but my bloggy friend Behan wrote an excellent piece on this subject.  Read it.  The jist is this: make sure you don't spend a fortune on the wants (i.e. new corian countertops for the galley, recovering interior cushions), when you should really be investing in the needs (i.e. rebuilding engine, replacing standing rigging).  I admit that this can be hard to do, but it is important to always be mindful of.  After all, the goal is to cruise, right?  Not to have the prettiest boat.
6. Have realistic expectations; about cruising, about the islands, about your plans.  This is a huge one.  Expectations can have a huge impact (positive or negative) on your trip.  I cannot tell you how many people we have met who were "disappointed" by cruising or by certain places because they simply didn't match their expectations.  So many people shove off on their boats and expect their life to be a gypsy-veiled dream.  They expect the islands to be beautiful, pristine and postcard perfect.  They expect steel drum bands, swim up bars and fun little beach shacks to grab a burger and a beer.  While this type of scenario does exist, the only places we have seen it are the ones that have been overrun with tourism (and many people avoid these types of islands for just these reasons - to each his own - we enjoy the touristy stuff from time to time).  Many islands are far from postcard perfect.  We had some friends who were so excited to go to Dominica because they heard so many good things about it only to be really disappointed because it was (their words) "a total dump".  Do some homework so that your expectations are realistic and understand that just because the majority of cruisers "love" a certain place, doesn't mean you will.  There is a tremendous "herd" mentality out here and lots of folks jump on bandwagons just because.  The same goes with cruising, make sure you read about the dark sides as well as the good because if you are too idealistic, you will be sorely disappointed.  ALSO, be FLEXIBLE about your plans.  Be ready for them to change.  In fact, count on them changing. Think you're going to circumnavigate in two years?  Sure, it's possible...but it's also really unlikely.  Set goals, make plans and prepare to change tacks from time to time.  I don't think we know a single cruiser who's cruising itinerary followed exactly what they had envisioned before shoving off.  I know for certain ours hasn't!
7. When selecting an anchor, go bigger.  This is well documented advice all over the place, but it bears mentioning.  Your anchor is one of the most important pieces of gear on your boat - it can keep you safe and even save your life.  Don't skimp on it (or them).  We have three anchors on our boat; a 73 lb. Rocna as our primary, a 63 lb Mantus as our secondary (sidenote: we LOVE Mantus Anchors, review to come!) and a 35 lb Mantus for our stern.  Also, if you can swing it, a windlass is your friend.  By no means a necessity, but definitely nice to have!
8. Do NOT skimp on you dinghy/outboard setup.  When we left Chicago on our first boat the whole dinghy/outboard thing was a total afterthought.  We had a thirty year old Johnson 2-Hp motor and an equally old inflatable and this setup was not ideal.  It was incredibly limiting and we stayed back from many excursions and outings because we simply didn't have the propulsion to get there.  That dinghy died (a blessing in disquise?) and we got a new one (including an outboard!) for $300, which should have been our first warning.  That dinghy was no better (in many ways, it was worse) and for about five thousand nautical miles we cursed the fact that we didn't invest in a better setup from day one.  We now have a 15 HP Yamaha and a 10 foot RIB and love this set up.  We can get to far flung beaches, and faster than a snails pace.  Think of your dinghy as your car, you want something reliable, practical and useful.  Choose wisely because it can really open up a world of possibilities for you. 
9. Invest in good paper charts and cruising guides.  I am so alarmed by the number of cruisers who rely only on their chart plotters for navigational information.  This, my friends, is NOT prudent boating for a myriad of reasons.  For one, they can die...and then what?  You gonna bust out that old sextant Uncle Joe got you from a garage sale?  If you are, good on you.  But the majority of us do not know celestial navigation and trying to figure it out when the "bleep" hits the fan is not advisable.  Furthermore, chart plotters have been known to be wrong.  We met one unfortunate cruiser who's boat was a complete loss because he went through an "inlet" that was clearly marked on his chart plotter, but in real life was actually land.  Land, people.  Buy paper charts.  Also...don't underestimate the good ole Lonely Planet guidebooks.  Great for land-based tips and up-to-date info.  Not every book you own must relate to cruising and cruising alone.  
10. Prepare for serious ups and downs.  This life is not one of "moderation".  I know, I know...I am beating a dead horse here - but it's true, be ready to feel a little bipolar from time to time.  I've said it before and I will not stop saying it as long as we are blogging:  high highs and low lows people.  There will be days you will curse your boat, this life, the islands, your spouse, the weather...whatever.  You will dislike cruising from time to time, you might even hate it sometimes.  But... in between, there will be many moments that will enrich your life in ways you never imagined, you will learn more about yourself than you ever thought possible and - most important - you will collect a lifetime of stories to color your soul.  You might do this for a while and find it's not for you - and that's okay too.  At least you gave it a try and collected some great stories along the way.  And who doesn't love a good story?

...and one more for good measure: you WILL screw up.  Many times.  Hopefully, (because you are prudent with boat maintenance, watching weather and being cautious) your screw ups will not be of the "colossal" variety, but of the minor to major annoyance or even the "wow, that was embarrassing" type.  Embrace these hiccups.  These are the times you will learn the most.  You will be humbled (which is always a good thing to be at sea).  You will be scared.  Frustrated.  Enlightened.  And the learning curve?  It never ends.  Cruising is like golf, it can never be "mastered" and as soon as you think you are on top of your game and get a little cocky, you can rest assured that the Universe will find a way to knock you down a peg.  Respect your boat, respect the ocean, keep your mind open and hang on tight because it's one crazy, beautiful ride. 

Lazy Days and a Harrowing Reminder

Isla, decked out for the beach

Since we decided to turn on our air conditioning, we have become hermits of sorts.  Honestly, if it wasn't for Isla, I doubt I'd leave the boat for much more than a shower and some food.  Thankfully, her happy, excited little face cannot be cooped up in a boat all day so I take her on walks to the beach, outings to the mall, and afternoon swims in the pool.  She's turning into quite the little fish lately and it's pretty awesome to see her become more and more fearless with each passing day.  She is now at the point where she'll jump in and fully submerge without screaming bloody murder.  A month ago, I couldn't even wash her hair without primal wails of protest.  It's incredible how fast they learn.  Just this morning, in fact, Scott taught Isla how to scratch our backs.  We consider this a milestone.

Anyway, there's nothing much to report other than the fact that the millions of projects we had such high hopes for accomplishing here remain undone.  No varnishing.  No polishing.  No replacing the halyards.  No cleaning out our heat exchangers and changing our generator oil.  The untouched list goes on.  Since we're plugged into shore power and not moving for a little while the impetus just isn't there.  Not to mention Scott is working so his time for our boat work is practically nothing.  We'll get it all done...eventually.  We plan to haul the boat out in a month or so when we go back to the states for a visit, so we'll get our butts into "work mode" then.  In the meantime, we just keep adding to the list while we do menial chores from inside our nice, cool, 85° boat.

In totally unrelated news (and because I have nothing really interesting to say at the moment), my bloggy friend Holli wrote a very poignant piece on some friends of hers who recently abandoned their boat off the coast of Spain.  Thankfully, nobody was hurt, but it is always good to be reminded that no one - no matter how much experience, how strong your boat, or how well prepared you are - no one is immune to the powers of the ocean.  It pays to be humble and always remember that.  I wish the crew of s/v Serena all the best in getting their life back as they recover from what must have been a devastating loss.

When Batteries Go Bad

When it rains, it pours.  And when marine batteries go bad, they go bad pretty quick.

When we were in St. Maarten, Scott noticed that our battery voltage was low.  Like, really low.  For the record:  we have had two 12 volt 8D AGM batteries as our house bank.  They were reading 11.4 in after a night at anchor when they should have been reading in the high 12 range.  Much to his annoyance, I had been telling Scott each morning for days that our refrigerator didn't seem cold (I am ever fearful of wasting cheese!) and now, it seemed, we knew why.  Our batteries were dying a slow and steady death, and taking our cheese down with it.

Since we have a generator on board, this was by no means an urgent matter - or so we thought.  We continued on our normal course south, figuring this was nothing more than a minor annoyance, and that we'd replace our battery bank once in Grenada.  Our batteries, of course, had other ideas.

Each day our battery voltage dropped lower and lower, quicker and quicker.  We started going into energy conservation mode, turning off all systems at the breakers, and finally shutting the refrigerator off at night.  This attempt to tourniquet the outpouring of energy from our AGM's did next to nothing for the health of our batteries.  They continued on their downward slope, slowly draining a little more life, each and every day.  I was getting worried.  We ran our generator more to keep up with our energy needs.  While this charged our batteries for a spell, they just couldn't hold on to it.  Almost immediately after the generator stopped running, the voltage would drop.  I watched our Victron battery monitor religiously, hoping to see something positive.  It never came. Our fridge began to smell.  Food began to rot.  The mood on the boat drained along with the battery acid.

Then we couldn't start the engine, and this is when I began to cry.

I know we are a sailboat, I know that sails don't require power - but to me, an engine represents safety and when, after running our generator for thirty minutes, we still couldn't start our engine, I got very nervous.  We had a problem. (Note: our engine starter is tied to our house bank.  I know that this is not ideal, and it's not the way we would have set up this boat - but it's the way it was - we are learning there are LOTS of things the previous owner did that we would not have done).

After more generator running and some desperate pleas to the Universe to "please let our engine start one more time" our trusty old Perkins laboriously coughed to life.   And then I smelled sulfur which, unless you are near Old Faithful, is not a normal smell.  New smells on boats are bad and require investigation.  I did some quick Googling and after reading words like "over charged batteries" and "explosion", it was an easy decision to limp into a marina.  Which is exactly what we did.

Within an hour we located an electrician.  He went in the engine room and told us our batteries were "hot"...after which he smiled and shook his head "too hot".  They needed more ventilation.  We took note.  And he continued to poke around.  After a spirited "discussion" with Scott about what the problem might be and what, exactly, this "electrician" was doing (he never told us anything we didn't already know) - I decided to take a walk with Isla to give the men some room to work.  When I came back our 12V 8D AGM batteries had been replaced with 12V 4D wet cell batteries.  Not ideal, but they should get us through.  Thanks to the advice given to us on our Facebook Page, we changed the settings on our charger from 'AGM' to 'wet cell' and have added "check battery water" to our list of weekly chores.  We are also going to be much more cognizant of voltage and battery monitoring moving forward.

Neither of us feel entirely confident that our problem is solved - we're not entirely certain that we don't have some other electrical snafu that might have caused this in the first place.  But for the meantime, we have put a band-aide on the problem.  Hopefully, this band-aide sticks until we get to Grenada.  In the meantime, I'm going to eat me some cheese.

Adventures in Watermaking

See that missing arm in the upper right hand corner?  That is no bueno.  This is a bad impeller.

What is that they say?  "If it's too good to be true, it is?"  Sigh.  When will I learn?

We have been using our amazing Cruise RO watermaker for about four months now and many of you have been requesting a follow up post re: do we like it?

The short answer is, we don't like it.  We LOVE it.  So lets just get that out there to clear up any confusion.  Installing our high output watermaker is one of the best decisions we made with this boat, no question about that.  Ample fresh water on a boat floating in a sea of salt is a good thing.

I had a post ready to go about the unadulterated love we have for our 30 gallon per hour watermaker (daily showers! plenty of water for dishes! washing the boat at will! rinsing gear liberally!), when - in an ironic twist of fate - we went to run it and it went on the fritz.  Something didn't sound right.  At all.  (Note: ignoring strange sounds on a boat, particularly strange noises with pumps and engines, is not wise).  Scott immediately shut the system down and got to trouble-shooting.  Within ten minutes he had removed and dissected our Jabsco "boost" pump and found the culprit: a damaged shaft seal and a corroded motor, as well as a broken impeller.  This was Jabsco issue and, luckily, it was under warranty.

We called Rich from Cruise RO.  It's not always you get to talk directly to the CEO of a company - on a Sunday of a holiday weekend no less - and, as usual, he answered his phone immediately.  Our part was under warranty and he assured us he'd be shipping us a new one first thing on Tuesday morning (Monday being a holiday). While we're not exactly going anywhere fast at the moment, I braced myself for what was sure to be a long wait, full of customs hiccups, shipping gliches and red tape.  After all, isn't the bane of every cruiser's existence waiting for parts to arrive in exotic locations?

Through the magic of online tracking, we saw that the pump was indeed shipped Tuesday, arrived in Puerto Rico Wednesday, Tortola on Thursday, and the marina where we waited on Friday.  Incredible!  And we didn't pay a cent for this!  I was so happy I did a little jig, I even took to our Facebook Page to gloat.  I mean, shipping boat parts to foreign places never goes that smoothly! Never, ever!!

Sigh.  No it doesn't.

Scott got to work on the installation and, after about an hour of contortionist work in our watermaker locker to re-install the pump, he came up on deck with a very sweaty, very forlorn face. "Um...I was just about to finalize the installation and I happened to read the fine print on the pump.  It's a 24 volt pump".

(Insert loud sound of record scratching).

Our boat is a 12 volt boat.

This was a big problem and if it were me who had been working on the pump for an hour in a steaming sauna and discovered this little fact, I would have dropped a big old "F" bomb that rang through the mountaintops with fervor.

We were shipped the wrong pump.

We called Rich, and again he answered immediately.  Despite holding out hope that maybe just maybe we were supposed to get a 24 volt pump, he admitted the mistake and apologized.  As often as I'd like to think he is an incredible customer service robot who permanently has a phone attached to his ear, he is actually human.  We could have a new pump in four to five days, he promised, they would un-do this mistake.

But we didn't have four or five days.  We need to move on and our weather window is looking like it will be here on Thursday.  Waiting would be too risky.  So Scott took matters into his own hands and started calling around the island to see if we could source the pump ourselves (a frustrating process in itself, mind you).  While there was not a single Jabsco Water Puppy to be found in all of the British Virgin Islands, there was one in St. Thomas, the U.S. Virgin Islands.  Scott grabbed his passport, hopped a ferry to the good ole U.S of A and five hours later brought back our puppy.  Running out to get a part when you have to go to another country can take a while.

Later that evening, after a celebratory meal and some wine, the pump was installed and our watermaker was back in action.  And what's best?  Rich and the folks at Cruise RO have decided to reimburse us completely for the pump, saying:

"In a situation like this we would typically say something like, 'we can get it to you for a cost of $150 but if you want to source it yourself to save time then we will cover what our cost would have been for us and you can cover the extra.'  That seems fair to us and most cruisers we have done that with have been happy with that compromise......BUT this whole situation was caused by us sending you the wrong pump, so this make it not a typical situation. We will send a refund check in the amount of $361.55 to the address you listed."

They say customer service is a thing of the past.  With Cruise RO Water and Power this could not be further from the truth.  This company has the best customer service I have ever experienced.  It is almost comical how good it is and I still secretly believe that Rich is actually a customer service robot with a phone permanently attached to his ear.  They go above and beyond for their customers and I can honestly say I have never been more impressed working with a company.  Can you imagine if all marine companies held the same standard (I'm talking to you electronics companies!)?  We boaters would free ourselves from a huge amount of stress and frustration and be floating around in a perpetual happy-land where questions are answered, warranties are honored and parts arrive without a hitch.

But that would be too good to be true.

Interested in our watermaker? Here are some more posts:

• Why we chose our watermaker
• The dry fit
• How we installed it
• The first test run of the system

* Full disclosure: We are sponsored by Cruise RO Water and Power.  BUT we do not get 'special treatment' - talk to anyone who has worked with this company and you will hear similar stories of them going above and beyond the call of duty.  They are really this awesome.