Work Day Number Three, Safe Harbor Great Island

It has been another busy day for us, and we have not left the marina. NOAA has issued an extreme heat warning! The temperature was in the high 70s today, and tomorrow it may reach 85 degrees. Being from California's Central Valley, we scoff at these warnings. Temperatures in the 70s in Sacramento this time of year would be considered a cold snap. Having experienced so much chilliness over the last month, we found the weather here quite pleasant.

After breakfast, I set to work putting provisions, linens and a few other items in the two lockers in the aft cabin. A few things were discarded, but mostly I was able to create quite a bit of free space by carefully rearranging everything--for the first time since we owned the boat. The smaller locker in the aft cabin is now free for use by crew and guests, as was probably intended. 

Meanwhile, on the dock, Shalako sat on a fender and used a hammer to chip rust off one of the shackles for the sea anchor. As I worked below deck, I could hear the steady click of metal on metal and thought, "Poor Shalako!" It sounded like prison labor. When I took the base of the Ritchie compass on the dock to clean and polish the metal, I heard some grumbling and mention of catching the next plane out of here. I called for Peter, alerting him to a possible desertion of crew. He came on the dock, examined Shalako's work and said a sufficient amount of corrosion had been knocked off and started to put the hardware back together. It was only then that he noticed that the corroded piece was redundant and decided to reconnect everything without it! Peter considered keeping the rusted shackle because, as he says, it might come in handy sometime, but Shalako insisted the confounded piece be trashed. He was much happier soaking the nylon line in vinegar to loosen the rust imbedded in the fibers and then working it through his hands to make the line less stiff.

Shalako working on the sea anchor line

When I had the compass all shiny and bright, I moved on to the stainless steel on the swim scoop on the stern. Meanwhile Peter continued to puzzle about and work on the quadrant, and Shalako was at the helm turning the wheel all the way to starboard and all the way to port over and over as Peter applied lubricant. I was tasked with removing black gunk from the starboard side of the boat halfway between the bow and the chain plates and was pleased that I was easily able to scrape it of with a plastic razor, my new favorite tool. 

The three of us took a break to have lunch at Iris, the cafe at the top of the hill of the boatyard. The food was fantastic, and we had great views of the boatyard and the two-line highway from the pleasant seating on the deck. I left Peter and Shalako there to start another load of laundry--towels and a few odds and ends as well as two pillows that still had stains after being washed yesterday. I took a shower while the first load was in the washer. The marina has attractive and spotlessly clean facilities. 

Back at the boat, Peter and Shalako stuffed all the sea anchor lines and hardware in the bag and stowed it in the forepeak, which has been re-arranged yet again as we pull out sails to check them. Peter devised a contraption to filter the filthy fuel he had drained out of the starboard tank and returned the filtered diesel to the tank. Then he spent some time in the forepeak puzzling about the crazy wiring up there, and I assisted him by turning things off and on at the electrical panel by the nav station. He cleaned some wiring up, but he is still puzzled. 

Peter with his fuel filter

Shalako had picked up the local newspaper in the marina office, and he updated us on all the latest controversy and also shared useful tidbits, such as the fact that only 1-3% of tick bites results in Lyme's disease. It's the possibility, no matter how remote, that worries me.

Shalako keeping himself well-informed

Our next task was getting out the storm jib, hanking it on, attaching a halyard and sheet and raising it. Raising the sail was the easy part. Getting the bag open required a corrosion busting agent, pliers and both men working together to move the zipper. When the sail was out of the bag, we noticed that, off course, all the brass shackles were corroded, so we put in on the dock and the men were able to lubricate them and make them work freely. During our Safety at Sea course a couple weeks ago, we were advised to get out all the sails and gear that are not often (or maybe never) used to check them and become familiar with them. It's a good thing we followed this advise as learning all the parts of the sea anchor or dealing with corrosion in the middle of a storm would be extremely challenging. 

Cleaning up the storm jib shackles

A couple hours before sunset, the cormorants seem to be particularly active diving for fish, popping back up from the water with their meal sticking out both sides of their beaks. With a deft move, they flip the fish into their mouths; you can watch the wriggling fish being swallowed down their long throats. About an hour before sunset, other birds start flying to their roosts, including white gulls and graceful herons. As we were sitting in the back of the boat resting after another day of work, a black-crowned night heron alighted on the railng of our bow and its mate perched on the next boat's bow. 

Black crowned night heron

After this delightful occurrence, we retreated down below and closed up the companionway hatch as pesky mosquitoes come out every evening as the sun goes away for another day. It is a shame, because we miss the twilight, but we are not willing, particularly after just showering, to apply insect repellent in order to spend a bit of time outside as darkness descends.