This weekend is one of those cosmic collisions that one must both embrace and shudder about, all at the same time.
Yesterday I finished the boat, to within about five percent of it being done. There is some paint to be applied, a few screws to be inserted here and there, and some hardware to be mounted. But I could throw it in the water today and make it work!
Today is both Mothers day and my best friends birthday. He would have been 54 today. My mother passed away seven years ago.
I will admit that yesterday's work was hard. I kept picturing the both of them sitting with me in the boat on some piece of calm water, I can see my mother in the galley, making sandwiches and a pot of tea, and then we would sit and eat and point out interesting things on the water. Jeff would laugh his full deep laugh and be quiet, smiling all the while. He would want to drive the boat, and he and my mother would sit in the cockpit, sipping tea, and talking about all the shared experiences of our lives. I might sit in the cabin, baiting a hook to fish with, and although I am no fisherman, it would keep my hands busy. My dog Nala would be near Jeff and my mother, eating the crusts of the sandwiches.
I could see us coming up to some landing somewhere, tying the boat up near a field, and going out to pick some flowers my mother had seen. The dog would run and play and chase bugs like she does.
As the afternoon turned towards evening, the radio would come out, as would a glass of wine to go with some music. We would light some lights, put up the tent awning and make some dinner. The stars would slowly come out in time with the music as we ate. Nala would snore softly on the bed in the cabin, rousing now and then to make sure she has not missed her share of the leftovers,
We might watch the stars move across the sky a while, my mother would have, perhaps, thirty five pieces of historical and philosophical trivia about the stars. She would voice how she always wanted to be an astronaut.
Jeff would not say too much, his laugh would come out now and then, and his measured voice would contribute a remark now and then.
The water would push against the hull and make soft noise as we soaked it all in. At some point my mother would insist on doing the dishes before we turned the boat around and headed for home. Nala would sit next to her, waiting for a plate to lick clean. Jeff and I would talk of the day, and other days like this one. Once the dishes were done, we would untie the boat, and slowly chug back upriver to the boat landing, where the real world awaited us.
It was a great, hard day that has spilled into today as well......and that is more than ok.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Mothers Day!
Sunday, September 30, 2012
End of the season, but not just yet.
The last month has tried my soul, my patience, and a few other things I won't name here, as I am trying not to behave like a drunken sailor.
About seven weeks ago, I was within striking distance of being able to launch the boat. A fairly significant illness in the family gave me the gift of making sure my priorities were in order, this meant the boat needed to wait. One or two weeks after that, I was diagnosed with either plantar faciatis or a severely strained Achilles tendon in my right foot. The doctor said that there wasn't too much difference, they both hurt like hell and the treatment was pretty much the same. Stay off the foot and take these pills. Since my doc is also a good friend, I paid attention.
Since my bike is my preferred mode of transit, this curtailed my movement even more. God knows I love the CTA (Chicago Transit Authority, a.k.a The Buses and Trains that sometimes move us!) but even at 50 plus years old, I can pretty much beat any bus to whatever destination I choose in the city when I ride my bike. They won't, and probably rightly so, let me race the trains.
So given my priorities with family illness and a semi useless right foot, (although the whole wooden peg leg, pirate scenario is kinda cool!) the boat has languished a bit here. I have stayed at home in my castle by the big lake, taking the occasional ginger footed walk with the dog over to the lake (it's two blocks away) and in general, have been pining to sit in the cockpit of my boat, puttering around on the water.
In the last two weeks, I have been able to ride more, and my hopes started to rise that I might get a few days of boating in. I spent some hours at the boat shop, last coats of paint, loading up the storage lockers, fitting in windows, etc., etc., getting the last details glued and screwed.
Speaking of screwing, the City of Chicago chose to close my boat launch ten days ago for renovation.Let me state this again, so you understand what these muthafu.....um...ok....you get the idea. They closed my damn boat launch! There is a lovely sign there saying something to the effect of "See Ya Next Spring Suckers!" I stood and swore for ten minutes in three languages.
I have, in this last week or so, stopped swearing in two of the languages, thus freeing up what little is left of my mind to form a back up plan. There is another boat launch, farther away, but reachable.It's not ideal and it has some issues, but...........but............BUT........it may be possible to still do this. I may be making Thanksgiving dinner on board when it happens, but it may still happen! If you happen to see an ad on Craigslist in Chicago over the next few weeks or so that looks like this..."Wanted, Crane or helicopter rental near the Chicago River...." well, that's me launching my damn boat!
Patience me hearties.....
About seven weeks ago, I was within striking distance of being able to launch the boat. A fairly significant illness in the family gave me the gift of making sure my priorities were in order, this meant the boat needed to wait. One or two weeks after that, I was diagnosed with either plantar faciatis or a severely strained Achilles tendon in my right foot. The doctor said that there wasn't too much difference, they both hurt like hell and the treatment was pretty much the same. Stay off the foot and take these pills. Since my doc is also a good friend, I paid attention.
Since my bike is my preferred mode of transit, this curtailed my movement even more. God knows I love the CTA (Chicago Transit Authority, a.k.a The Buses and Trains that sometimes move us!) but even at 50 plus years old, I can pretty much beat any bus to whatever destination I choose in the city when I ride my bike. They won't, and probably rightly so, let me race the trains.
So given my priorities with family illness and a semi useless right foot, (although the whole wooden peg leg, pirate scenario is kinda cool!) the boat has languished a bit here. I have stayed at home in my castle by the big lake, taking the occasional ginger footed walk with the dog over to the lake (it's two blocks away) and in general, have been pining to sit in the cockpit of my boat, puttering around on the water.
In the last two weeks, I have been able to ride more, and my hopes started to rise that I might get a few days of boating in. I spent some hours at the boat shop, last coats of paint, loading up the storage lockers, fitting in windows, etc., etc., getting the last details glued and screwed.
Speaking of screwing, the City of Chicago chose to close my boat launch ten days ago for renovation.Let me state this again, so you understand what these muthafu.....um...ok....you get the idea. They closed my damn boat launch! There is a lovely sign there saying something to the effect of "See Ya Next Spring Suckers!" I stood and swore for ten minutes in three languages.
I have, in this last week or so, stopped swearing in two of the languages, thus freeing up what little is left of my mind to form a back up plan. There is another boat launch, farther away, but reachable.It's not ideal and it has some issues, but...........but............BUT........it may be possible to still do this. I may be making Thanksgiving dinner on board when it happens, but it may still happen! If you happen to see an ad on Craigslist in Chicago over the next few weeks or so that looks like this..."Wanted, Crane or helicopter rental near the Chicago River...." well, that's me launching my damn boat!
Patience me hearties.....
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Well, today was one of those interesting, "no such thing as coincidence" days! After several weeks of looking at motors, and getting a wee bit dejected about it, I took another stab at the problem today. I had gotten a slice of advice to be on the look out for a motor called an "Eska", it's air cooled, no longer made, but by all accounts, worth looking at if I could find one.
I had been enduring some rather annoying phone calls from people selling motors. Things like.....Me: "So, if I come at look at your motor, can I see and hear it run? Them: "I just had it painted, it looks GREAT!" Me: "So, that's a yes?" Them: "Did I mention that I just painted the motor and it looks GREAT?" Me: "Sooo, what you are really selling here is an anchor?" Them: "Well, it MIGHT need a little work."Me: "Ummmm, thanks, I'll get back to you."
Today I called a young man with this motor, after some chatting, he volunteered to bring it to me, and tank test it right in front of my very own eyes and ears! After I picked my butt up off the floor and regained my senses, I told him that I would add $20.00 for his gas to travel to me if it all worked out!
I immediately went out back, filled up an empty dumpster and waited for him to arrive. By the time he got here, there was a small crowd of my my tenants out back in the garden waiting with me as well, because you just don't get to see a dumpster full of water with an outboard motor churning it up every day! I told the tenants they could bring their laundry down and I'd run it through the motor wash for free. No takers on that!
The guy arrived, we filled up the gas tank, four pulls on the motor and off it went!
As you can see, today I found an Eska, 7.5 horsepower, and if you attach it to a garbage can full of water, it works!!!!! If it's possible for an outboard motor to be cute, I guess this one is!
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Update and such...
I had grand and glorious thoughts of building in a set of tandem wheel wells on the inside of the boat that would allow me to pull the boat behind my bike, thus avoiding the acquisition of a car that I really don't want or need. A few weeks ago, as I got near that part of the build, I was sitting in the completed hull, staring at the bottom of the boat. The idea of cutting two holes in the bottom just filled me with dread. Back to the drawing board! I have since started on a detachable cradle on tandem axles that should do the trick!
Here is a video update, I am out the door to go do some work on the boat!
Sunday, May 27, 2012
You can get in, but you can't get out...
If you haven't figured this out yet, I don't own a car. I do pretty much everything by bus, train or bike. Keep this in mind as you read.
Yesterday was a large, long day that required myself, my bike, and a trailer to fetch and deliver the last load of big lumber to the boat shop, and then lots of food. It was a rather busy week here with other things, so all of this needed to be done in one day. The equipment was up to the task, but I was not sure about ME being up to the task. My route was somewhat triangular in nature, first from my house to Menard's, about five miles, then up and over to the boat shop, another four-ish miles or so. After that, to the food store, and then home, all told, somewhere around fifteen miles for the day.
Below is a picture of the load from Menard's. I had five milk crates strapped under the wood filled with glue, hardware, and a LOT of ice water. On top of the crates were four sheets of plywood, two sheets of Styrofoam, and a sheet of plexiglass. On top of that is a bundle of 2x2's as well. Not especially heavy, perhaps 175 pounds, but rather wide and long.
I arrived at about noon at the lumberyard, a pleasant place to be, wandered around the store for a good hour or so gathering up what I needed. After you pay for your stuff, you have to drive around the store to the back, where the large goods are stored. They have a security guard kiosk as you go in, the guard writes down your entry and points you to where you need to go.
I must digress for a moment here. When you haul stuff around on a trailer, especially large things, loading that stuff is somewhat critical. There is no such thing as too many bungee cords or ratchet straps. You want the load to be over the wheels as much as possible, otherwise it feels like you are towing a piano playing gorilla around behind you. I had modified this trailer I brought to haul plywood sheets, but I had not tried it out yet, so I was curious to see how the whole arrangement worked.
After a good hour or so of loading, positioning and strapping everything down, I pedaled over to the security kiosk to check out. The guard checked off my supplies against the list he had and then he paused. He paused for a very long time.
"I have a problem." he finally announced.
"Oh?" says me.
"I can't let you out." he further announces.
"Why is that?" I inquire.
He scratches his head for a second, staring at his hand held computer.
"To clear security here, we have to put a license plate number into the system. You don't have a license plate. You have a bicycle and a trailer. I need a license plate number. It won't let you out otherwise." he announced, seeming to recite clearly from his training manual, that somehow suddenly had taken on a certain TSA, red tape quality to it.
I paused for a moment to think about this exquisite set of statements. I try to cover all the possibilities when I ride around with a trailer. This was a possibility I had not considered.
"So, what should we do?" I asked. I thought that if I referred to the guard and myself as a "we" it might promote team building and problem solving and get me out of there faster. I still had to get this stuff to the boat shop, as well as grocery shopping to do, and it was starting to get hot out.
He uttered the words I dread. Not to be disparaging of the security guard profession, but seldom do the words about to be uttered ever bring any problem to a successful resolution. Now that I think about it, if the word "seldom" in the last sentence occurs more often than the word "rarely", then let me emphatically say again that RARELY do the about to be uttered words have a positive effect.
"Gotta call my supervisor." he said.
My heart fell. By osmosis, I think, the three people in line behind me in their properly licensed vehicles, felt their hearts fall as well.
The supervisor was paged while I pulled out of line over to the TSA like "holding area." I mentally prepared for the arrival of the "supervisor" and what was sure to be the subsequent cavity search of my person.
I watched as the guy in line behind me pulled up to the gate in a a huge SUV with two bags of cement in the back. Twenty seconds later he was through the gate and gone. The same with the next two cars as well. The guard and I commenced to chat a bit, I dug out my water and a granola bar and we waited.
Forty five minutes later, the supervisor calls back. The guard suddenly goes back into "Def-Con 1" mode, and walks away from me to have a whispered conversation with his boss, just out of earshot. Five minutes go by. The guard is gesturing and pointing at me, his little portable computer, my bike and trailer, but never mind that his supervisor can't see any of this. Finally he hangs up and comes back over to me.
"We are gonna override the system and let you go" he announced, as if he had just negotiated a four country peace treaty. Even more importantly, he was sparing me from any sort of personal body cavity search as well.
My spirits soar as I see that my lumberyard imprisonment is at an end! I sign the little portable computer screen, along with a requested phone number of mine, just in case that after I leave they find a bomb under the plywood somewhere in the warehouse.
I pedal off to the rest of the day.
Yesterday was a large, long day that required myself, my bike, and a trailer to fetch and deliver the last load of big lumber to the boat shop, and then lots of food. It was a rather busy week here with other things, so all of this needed to be done in one day. The equipment was up to the task, but I was not sure about ME being up to the task. My route was somewhat triangular in nature, first from my house to Menard's, about five miles, then up and over to the boat shop, another four-ish miles or so. After that, to the food store, and then home, all told, somewhere around fifteen miles for the day.
Below is a picture of the load from Menard's. I had five milk crates strapped under the wood filled with glue, hardware, and a LOT of ice water. On top of the crates were four sheets of plywood, two sheets of Styrofoam, and a sheet of plexiglass. On top of that is a bundle of 2x2's as well. Not especially heavy, perhaps 175 pounds, but rather wide and long.
I arrived at about noon at the lumberyard, a pleasant place to be, wandered around the store for a good hour or so gathering up what I needed. After you pay for your stuff, you have to drive around the store to the back, where the large goods are stored. They have a security guard kiosk as you go in, the guard writes down your entry and points you to where you need to go.
I must digress for a moment here. When you haul stuff around on a trailer, especially large things, loading that stuff is somewhat critical. There is no such thing as too many bungee cords or ratchet straps. You want the load to be over the wheels as much as possible, otherwise it feels like you are towing a piano playing gorilla around behind you. I had modified this trailer I brought to haul plywood sheets, but I had not tried it out yet, so I was curious to see how the whole arrangement worked.
After a good hour or so of loading, positioning and strapping everything down, I pedaled over to the security kiosk to check out. The guard checked off my supplies against the list he had and then he paused. He paused for a very long time.
"I have a problem." he finally announced.
"Oh?" says me.
"I can't let you out." he further announces.
"Why is that?" I inquire.
He scratches his head for a second, staring at his hand held computer.
"To clear security here, we have to put a license plate number into the system. You don't have a license plate. You have a bicycle and a trailer. I need a license plate number. It won't let you out otherwise." he announced, seeming to recite clearly from his training manual, that somehow suddenly had taken on a certain TSA, red tape quality to it.
I paused for a moment to think about this exquisite set of statements. I try to cover all the possibilities when I ride around with a trailer. This was a possibility I had not considered.
"So, what should we do?" I asked. I thought that if I referred to the guard and myself as a "we" it might promote team building and problem solving and get me out of there faster. I still had to get this stuff to the boat shop, as well as grocery shopping to do, and it was starting to get hot out.
He uttered the words I dread. Not to be disparaging of the security guard profession, but seldom do the words about to be uttered ever bring any problem to a successful resolution. Now that I think about it, if the word "seldom" in the last sentence occurs more often than the word "rarely", then let me emphatically say again that RARELY do the about to be uttered words have a positive effect.
"Gotta call my supervisor." he said.
My heart fell. By osmosis, I think, the three people in line behind me in their properly licensed vehicles, felt their hearts fall as well.
The supervisor was paged while I pulled out of line over to the TSA like "holding area." I mentally prepared for the arrival of the "supervisor" and what was sure to be the subsequent cavity search of my person.
I watched as the guy in line behind me pulled up to the gate in a a huge SUV with two bags of cement in the back. Twenty seconds later he was through the gate and gone. The same with the next two cars as well. The guard and I commenced to chat a bit, I dug out my water and a granola bar and we waited.
Forty five minutes later, the supervisor calls back. The guard suddenly goes back into "Def-Con 1" mode, and walks away from me to have a whispered conversation with his boss, just out of earshot. Five minutes go by. The guard is gesturing and pointing at me, his little portable computer, my bike and trailer, but never mind that his supervisor can't see any of this. Finally he hangs up and comes back over to me.
"We are gonna override the system and let you go" he announced, as if he had just negotiated a four country peace treaty. Even more importantly, he was sparing me from any sort of personal body cavity search as well.
My spirits soar as I see that my lumberyard imprisonment is at an end! I sign the little portable computer screen, along with a requested phone number of mine, just in case that after I leave they find a bomb under the plywood somewhere in the warehouse.
I pedal off to the rest of the day.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Little pieces, lots and lots of little pieces....
I am in the middle now, I think, the middle of past where most of the big pieces have been put into play, and now it's grind out the small and medium sized pieces. Today was a repeat of Sunday, to some extent, I made the decision to have another hatch on the forward cabin roof, the same size as the one on the forward deck area. I had debated this one back and forth for a while, but in the end I liked the idea of a plexiglass hatch over the bunk/sitting area. One could also stand in the walkway and poke a portion of their body out the hatch for a view or some air as well.
I am urgent need of another trip to the lumberyard to retrieve the last pieces I need. Some plywood, more 2x2's, LOTS MORE GLUE!
It's cool to feel the entire boat starting to stiffen up as I get the top framing in on the roof, it still wiggles in the back, and of course, with no bottom on it yet, it's gonna wiggle!
I like how the foredeck hatch will look, one could sit on the bunk, half in and half out and survey things from semi inside. I keep playing a video in my head how it will look from profile going by on the water. So far it seems to match up!
I am urgent need of another trip to the lumberyard to retrieve the last pieces I need. Some plywood, more 2x2's, LOTS MORE GLUE!
It's cool to feel the entire boat starting to stiffen up as I get the top framing in on the roof, it still wiggles in the back, and of course, with no bottom on it yet, it's gonna wiggle!
I like how the foredeck hatch will look, one could sit on the bunk, half in and half out and survey things from semi inside. I keep playing a video in my head how it will look from profile going by on the water. So far it seems to match up!
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