Sailing Vicky Lee Has Moved!

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Merry & Bright

After patiently opening all twenty-four tiny doors on our advent calendar, Christmas has finally arrived.   Ty is in Oregon with the Hedlunds, and I am keeping Vicky company in Seattle and spending Christmas day with my family.
 

The boats at the marina are all decked out in lights and our fellow live-aboards are full of good cheer.  Ty even surprised me one evening by stringing red, green, and white lights all along Vicky's lifelines, which I left on extra long last night.

As we celebrate this Christmas in the Pacific Northwest with our families, I can't help but wondering where and with whom we'll celebrate next Christmas.

Brrrrr......

When Ty and I first talked about moving onto Vicky, he warned me that winters on a boat are hard.  And by hard, what he really meant was cold.  A boat is half submerged in water, which is cold, so the floor and walls never warm up.  And no matter how hard you try to seal up windows and hatches, something is always dripping.  But no matter what Ty said, I, being stubborn, contrary, and thinking too highly of myself, scoffed at his warnings and insisted I’d be just fine.  So in August -- when Seattle is sunny and 75 degrees every day -- I packed up most of my belongings and moved onto Vicky.

Last weekend, we had our first cold snap of the winter.  In one day, the temperature dropped from the fifties to below freezing, and the following morning we woke up to a nice layer of snow.  From the warm V-berth, the snow looked lovely, but then I ventured out to use the facilities to discover the dock and ramp covered in slippery ice.  

We spent the next three days nursing hot beverages and shoving each other over to get closer to the small space heater we use to heat the cabin.  And it didn’t take long for me to admit to Ty that he was right – winters on a boat are hard.



But, in my limited experience, I can also say that living on a boat in winter also offers many things that cozy apartment living doesn’t.   I now realize how terrible it is that our society allows anybody to live on the street and see homelessness for what it is -- a tragedy.   If winter on a boat is hard, winter living outside, with only cardboard and emergency blankets to keep you warm, would truly be torture.  I am also keenly aware of the power of nature and my place in it, which is to say that I am humbled and respectful of our earth and her weather cycles.   On an afternoon walk to the hardware store for salt to de-ice the ramp to the dock, we found ourselves in awe of delicate, sparkling ice formations on the chain link fence around the parking lot.  



Being on Vicky in the winter has also made me appreciate simple things like never before... when there's enough fuel in the stove for making dinner, holding and drinking hot beverages, slipping on a fresh pair of wool socks, a functioning space heater...
 

and last but not least, Ty's companionship.   No matter how cold it gets on Vicky, Ty can always make me laugh (cue gorilla impression) and realize that our little life is not that far from perfect.
 

Thanksgiving

It seems like just last week, we were enjoying long days and warm nights.   And before we know it, Thanksgiving has come and gone.  I've never had a year pass as quickly as this last one has, full of adventures with my two favorite things in the world, Ty and Vicky Lee.  

My parents decided to host Thanksgiving this year.   My sister, Laura, came up from San Francisco, and luckily we were able to spend some quality sister time together during her visit as well.

Tom, my Dad's oldest friend, also joined, along with our friends Mara and Jeff, and Mara's mom, Jeanne. 

Ty and Laura making the first difficult decision of the evening.... to start with red or white??  I think they ended up opening both.
 

This was by and far the largest group meal my parents have ever had at their house.  Dad built a special insert to extend their small round table to accommodate everybody.  And there weren't enough chairs in the house, so Mara and Jeff pulled the bench into the kitchen from the piano and sat on that.  They didn't seem to mind.



Mara and Jeff brought the turkey, along with homemade cranberry sauce.  Ty braved the unenviable task of carving.... 
 

By the end of the meal, I'd caught a mean case of the hiccups --  probably due to trying to swallow while laughing, a dangerous combination.  Laura kindly instructed me in some natural hiccup remedies.  One involved me splayed over the piano bench while holding my breath.   I became light-headed, but the hiccups didn't go anywhere. The other involved prolonged handstands....  

Although Ty and I look forward to many longer adventures on Vicky Lee, we will both miss spending time with our families and friends.   Because they are all so great.

Lake Union

On Sunday, we took Ty’s friend and co-worker, Kinnan, out for a sail on Lake Union.   (Kinnan is also a fellow knitter, so of course we spent some time admiring eachother's knitware.)

We’ve spent many Sundays sailing the perimeters of Lake Union, pointing out various sights: the “Sleepless In Seattle” house, Ty’s favorite Tugboat company, and the floating planes taking off and landing seemingly on a dime.  But no matter how many times we travel the same route, I am in awe of our city as if it were the first time I’d laid eyes on it.  

From Ballard Mill Marina, we travel east toward the Ballard Bridge, past the working Fisherman’s Terminal where boats come in from Alaska and further away, unloading their haul.   At the beginning of the summer, we watched as many of these boats and their young crews headed out to spend the season working in the waters off the coast of Alaska, hoping for a prosperous haul of fish.

We keep heading east toward through the Fremont Ship canal, its close-by banks paralleled by recreational trails on either side.   Without fail, somebody will waive at us from the shore, which gives me a feeling of importance and belonging in our city, for what would Seattle be without boats travelling its many waterways?

Kinnan took to sailing right away, figuring out quickly when to turn Vicky toward or away from the wind.    This gave me a chance to sit back and enjoy looking out at the city.  From Lake Union, you can turn one direction and see the University, turn another and see straight into Downtown, and then back again along the ship canal at the towering Aurora Bridge and Fremont Bridge beyond that.

The Lake itself sits below many hills and feels like a protected inlet in the middle of a bustling metropolis. From Vicky, we can see the lights and cranes of downtown, the radio towers atop Queen Anne, and the traffic speeding past along I-5 and Aurora.  From her deck, it all appears more calm and orderly.

Happy (Belated) Halloween

October flew by.  We were busy with projects and trips... not to mention our day jobs.... and suddenly Halloween had come and passed.    The weekend before last, we headed out to Ty's friend, Gary's place, for a pumpking carving party.  Gary sets up his entire workshop as a pumpkin carving zone, complete with power tools for cutting off the stems. 

I was very interested in making sure our jack-o-lantern came out perfectly.    Ty was a bit less concerned.

We stayed  in on Halloween night -- but did happen to catch some robots and a teenage mutant ninja turtle wandering around the marina.

A Weekend In the Sail Loft

Back in March -- which seems like a lifetime ago -- I signed up for a sail repair seminar put on by Port Townsend Sails, the sail loft that's making Vicky's new set of sails.   Ty and I agreed that at least one of us should have basic sail repair skills before we do any major trips, and since I generally like any craft involving fabric, needles, or or thread, I eagerly volunteered.   Ty also thought it'd be good for me to have a marketable skill so that he could send me off to make money if we ever found ourselves penniless in some foriegn port.

The two-day seminar started bright and early on Saturday morning, so we left Seattle on Friday to sail up to Port Townsend. 

Although the the clouds threatened rain pretty much the whole time, we still had excellent wind and slivers of blue sky.   By the time we popped out of the canal nearing Port Townsend, the winds started picking up from behind and we found ourselves swiftly hopping up and over white caps. It was quite a relief to arrive safely at Boat Haven and tie up for the night.  Ah, Boat Haven.... our home away from home.

As soon as Vicky was settled in her slip, we made our way over the the Pourhouse, our other home away from home.   Ty tried a pumpkin beer and a seasonal cider, both of which he gave rave reviews.  Since I never try new things, I had white wine, which I also gave rave reviews.

The walk back to Vicky from the Pourhouse along the beach was gusty, but beautiful.

 On Saturday morning, Ty and I walked across town from Boat Haven to the Sail Loft, which is located at the Point Hudson marina near the historic downtown of Port Townsend.  The seminar was divided into four classes, three of which were hands one tutorials of pretty much every basic sailmaking or repairing skill.  We learned how to sew in rings, repair rips and holes, attach various types of patches and chafe protections, and we even got to practice sewing seams on the large, industrial machines.

The Sail Loft a breathtaking place.  Well, at least for me!  Everywhere you look, there are assortments of tools and materials, organized on wooden shelves that extend from floor to ceiling. 

We used punches to make holes before sewing in rings, but we also learned ways of sewing in rings without a punch, which I don't think many folks carry on their boats.

My favorite part of the seminar was the hand sewing classes, where we learned all the basic stitches that could be used for any repair job.  We also practice sewing on leather, which required super heavy duty needles.

While I was in class, Ty worked on various projects and roamed the boatyard by boathaven.  We even saw another Cape Dory 27 who was only two boats ahead of Vicky in production.  Ty also found this beast who was looking a worse for the wear.  Scrub brush, anyone?

On Monday, we left Boat Haven around 7:30 in the morning to catch favorable currents for the trip home.  One of our new sails -- the genoa -- was finished, so without too much trouble, we got it hung on the front roller furler and were able to sail home with her.   Ty and I both thought that with the new genoa, Vicky was better able to sail close into the wind, which made for less tacking and a shorter trip home.