rudderless

Treehugging Tuesday- SOAP!

A few weeks ago my liveaboard friend Behan left this comment: “In the realm of small things: speaking of fish-friendly detergent, there is this old cruising myth about Joy. Liveaboards / cruisers are supposed to love it “because it gives suds in salt water.” Somehow I don’t think it’s fish friendly, although I can’t point to a reference. And… why the fuss about suds? They’re not necessary to get clean, right? The friendly stuff still seems to work just fine. How on earth- (Earth!) can we get this myth dispelled?”

Truly, eh? We’ve tried to do without petroleum-based soaps for a couple of year now, even off the boat. Now that we’re on the boat, when I pump my sink water overboard every day, I can’t imagine using anything but biodegradable, fish-safe soap. It’s my responsibility to do stuff like that, eh? There was certainly a time, on our old boat, when we indulged in our old friends Joy and Dawn. But in the last two years or so, there are so many choices in the realm of cleaning supplies, it wouldn’t even occur to me to buy the other stuff. So, like Behan asked, why do people do it?

I assume it’s habit. It’s what you’ve always known. I can understand that. You assume the other stuff works better with its rinse agents and sudsing properties. It might, but you’re probably using too much of it anyway. It can be cheaper, certainly. But the best advice someone gave me a while back is to dilute, dilute, dilute. The soap companies want more of your business. Things have become so super-concentrated lately that you can easily replace half the soap bottle with water and still have an effective solution. The same is true of laundry detergents. If your clothes smell strongly of detergent, you’re using more than you need. Half the recommended amount will suffice in most cases. For the same reason you use less with cloth diapers, use less in normal loads. Lots of soap causes it to build up on your clothes. When we first tried Charlie’s Soap- a washing soda-based natural cleaner, they recommended running a few loads of their soap and water through the machine, just to eliminate the nasty detergent residue. Eww. It does wonders for cloth diapers.

Use better stuff, use less, and if you’re a sucker for scents, I can whole-heartedly recommend Seventh Generation’s dish soap and laundry detergent. It smells like something you might actually find in nature, not to mention that it’s made from the good stuff.

And speaking of laundry- here’s the new normal. IKEA octopus with wind blowing down the hatch. Good times.

Twenty-One Months

Dear Roo,

Happy Month Twenty-One! I feel like every day you shed another layer of babydom. Potty training, running and now skipping, singing songs, enjoying the quiet of a long car ride (wow, to think the epic STRESS of car travel might be over), talking talking talking, pretending, coloring, cutting “noodles” of Playdough. The only thing left is Booby. Your beloved connection back to babyhood. All curled up in my lap, as sweet and soft as you were on this day twenty-one months ago. Your canines are coming in and that’s exascerbated the need for Booooo-beeee. I’m not sure if you’ll be giving it up anytime soon. There are days when I want that more than anything. Some space, some sleep. But I also know that this is my last chance to feel connected to a baby. Wow, my last baby is almost a little girl.

This has been the month of the boat. You’ve been a trooper through it all. At times maddening with the mess and merry-making. The tumbling acts and the lack of volume control. But you’ve also grown up and adapted to the changes like the smart, loving girl that you are. My other favorite firsts have been the kisses you peck your lips for, the true hugs, the “I Wuv Yous.” The questions – “What happen, Daddy?” “What dat?” and the long cries of “Here MY come!!” You imitate Sophie’s games to a T. “Skip to My Lou” is the new favorite song, loaders and backhoes still a roadside obsession. You had your first fat lip, falling headlong into a puddle. You’ve also been swimming like a fish- as coordinated and determined in the water as you are on land. Next year you’ll be jumping off the stern and swimming around the boat, I’m quite sure.

I say it every month, but you are a shining light, so bright and cute that we can barely look at you sometimes. Especially in the morning with bedhead. You are the one and only Rosy. Apple of our eyes. So funny. So COOOT. So very you.

I love you to pieces in the fire (as your great-grandmother used to say),
mama

Just a Day

Today was a big day here on the boat. This morning John solved our big computer issue. Our boat is steel, so any Wifi signal we receive from the marina, or surrounding businesses, basically stops at our companionway. If we were ever going to surf the web or talk to our family on the webcam from the cozy confines down below, we needed a way to get that signal down into the boat and into the computer. 5-Mile Wifi sent us an antenna and some nifty cables and voila, problem solved. I read a magazine article recently about homesteading and building off the grid. When a veteran housebuilder was asked what his first step would be, he said, a strong internet connection. It allows us to do the research we need to do, to get ideas, to secure the strange engine parts we might need. To read forums, blogs, to write, to stay connected. And no matter how romantic it might seem to be out of touch for a while, living on the boat is not something we do for vacation. It’s our everyday. And in that way, we need to be connected.

We spent the other half of the day tackling the overhead together- the styrofoam/plywood/vinyl sandwich that has to go on the underside of our steel. Teamwork made it bearable, but both of us will be so glad to move onto our more mentally stimulating tasks- the engine for John, the sailcovers and other canvas for me. It’s not hard work, it’s just annoying work.

The girls were wonderfully patient, moving through all of their onboard activites like champs. Coloring, letter-writing, tumbling, present-making, playdough, putting the stuffed animals to bed, napping, eating, DVDs, an inordinate amount of time in the head (seriously, I feel like we take them to pee all day long). Just another day to them. Which ended with a swim in the ocean. Their heaven.

Every time I watch them gleefully, confidently swim away from me, it’s proof positive that we’ve made the right choices. This is where we should be. Styrofoam showers and all.

Karma

Last week, on the evening of St. Patrick’s Day, I was in the cockpit trying to use the internet. John was putting Sophie to bed. I heard a woman’s voice- faintly, saying something along the lines of, “almost, almost, get it, get it, get it, oh oh oh . . .” You know where my mind went- we live in close quarters with our neighbors, open hatches, blah blah. Then she started screeching, and I was relieved at the thought that it might be over with. Just then John appears and says, “Is she yelling HELP?” He went to investigate and sure enough, she and her equally-as-intoxicated husband were swimming around the marina looking for a way to get up, having fallen off their dinghy. John and some neighbors helped them up and tucked them in to sleep off their Guinness. But wow . . . I hope my neighbor’s head isn’t in the gutter when I need saving.

The story reminds me of a larger issue that’s plagued me for a long time. I can be so utterly convinced that one thing is happening, or that one process or direction is going to work, that I shove off any thoughts to the contrary. Buddha would say that I am attached. Attached, to my own detriment, to one outcome or thought. It’s a lesson I am working through. I got caught by it this week, working on the overhead insulation. It’s a simple process that, for some reason I was making more complicated by insisting on reusing materials and creating this jigsaw headache of styrofoam. The solution is using big pieces that we can fabricate easily, and remove easily. Duh. But I couldn’t hear the lady’s voice in the back of my head. Or see what was really in front of me.

I am probably the last woman on earth to have read Eat, Pray, Love. At some point Elizabeth describes karma, and does it well- “This is the supreme lesson of karma- take care of the problem now, or else you’ll just have to suffer again later when you screw everything up the next time. And that repetition of suffering- that’s hell.” Let me remember that when we’re halfway to Cape May.

My styrofoam karma. Coming back to get me.

One Pot Corned Beef!

Pressure Cooker Corned Beef and Veg

My parents bought us a pressure cooker for a wedding gift and over the years, I have expanded my repertoire. It’s brilliant on a boat, as it packs a big punch- one-pot meals that taste like you’ve worked all day making them. When really? They took half an hour under pressure . . . this recipe follows that approach. Celebration food in just over an hour. It doesn’t get much better.

3-4 lbs corned beef brisket
8-10 small boiling potatoes, peeled
A few handfuls baby carrots
1-2 onions, cut in half

Cut the corned beef in half, such that it will fit in your pressure cooker.
Cover it with water and add the pickling spices that come with it.
Bring to high pressure, then lower heat to stabilize, cook for an hour.

Release pressure with cold water, remove beef and tent on a plate. Add veggies and bring back to high heat. Cook for 2-3 minutes then release pressure again with cold water. Check to see if veggies are tender and if not, simmer until done.

Serve with crusty bread and cabbage- you could add cabbage at the end and repressurize for a minute or so to cook it. But we love shredded, sautéed cabbage. It cooks fast and is never soggy. The other must-have: horseradish sauce. Some friends served us pork tenderloin with horseradish sauce and I have never loked back. Addiction is a fine thing when it goes so well with so many delicious dinners.

Favorite Vocations aboard Rubicon

-Rigging! It’s finally up and looks grand! There’s so much more to do, and I know it keeps John’s mind occupied for the time being. But wow, we are finally a sailing vessel!

-Watching iPod TV. The kids shows live on our iPod which ingeniously fits into a dock that came with the television. John and I are addicted to Mad Men, which when we can’t get it from the library, can be downloaded to the iPod. Modern technology is evil genius.

-Manatee watching. Nothing like an impromptu science lesson at 11AM off the stern of the boat.

-Dinghy rides to visit friend in the harbor. Especially furry coon cat friends.

-Coffee while listening to the morning cruiser’s net on the VHF. Truly a blast from our past. Five years ago we even did a stint as net controllers here in Boot Key. Some things truly never change.

-Letter-writing. Sophie has stuffed a half dozen envelopes in the past two days. I love to encourage her penpal campaign and if anyone wants to send her a letter, or even a drawing/craft/postcard, please email me if you don’t have my parent’s mailing address (they’re the best means of contacting us).

The girls have been amazing this week. As the stress of moving has been lifted, we’ve been met with some real honest-to-goodness happiness. It is the definition of fulfillment to see them so at ease in our new surroundings.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

It was our first real boat celebration- corned beef in the pressure cooker, with cabbage, potatoes, carrots and a whole lot of horseradish sauce (oh, new love of my life!). Good times.

The adjusting continues- in all the right ways. We are reminded that there is land time and there is boat time. If one project a day gets accomplished, we are feeling victorious. Dishes take longer. Coffee takes longer. Making a sandwich? Epic. But it feels good to slow down. To let go of schedules and routines and just let the days settle into a rhythm. Especially on a rainy day like today. Sophie colored all day. Seriously, filled page after page of her new coloring book, a gift from a boat friend. It came with a box of two dozen colors and suddenly she is captivated by the possibilities- rainbow dolphins, Lion Kings with rainbow manes. It’s really sweet. And great practice for writing . . . all five hours of it.

Rosy has tromped through every puddle of our marina. Multiple times. She wears three sets of clothing per day. Each muddier than the last. She requests her “giraffe”- life vest, and loves her new lee cloth. We’ll see how she does with it at 2AM.

There is nothing like the boat- it feels like everything I remember. The time stretching, the creaking, the dishes, the camaraderie. And now with the ultimate ambassadors. They get smiles and questions every where we go. They have friends in multiple states and multiple countries now. My girls, worldly and adventurous, even with sponges on their heads.

Back Aboard

Last week we rented a 15- foot truck and when I saw the thing, I imagined our stuff barely filling one corner. As it turned out, we filled the darn truck with boat gear, bikes, a boom, roller furler, clothes and endless kitchen implements. I think we both panicked a bit when we imagined fitting a truckload of stuff onto an already overflowing sailboat. Granted, much of that stuff goes in strange places- attached to masts and forestays, nailed to the ceiling, being towed behind us. But still, it was a bit overwhelming.

Somehow the stuff is here and the truck is gone. Granted, it’s packed into weird places and much of it resides in nooks and crannies onshore, but it’s with us. Not in a house. We have cut the umbilical and now fully reside on the boat. Liveaboards once again.

I spent most of today offloading things we can’t keep. Things we just don’t have room for. The stream of exiting stuff will continue for the next few weeks until we are bound for the mooring field here in Marathon. Last night we took a dinghy ride through the harbor and past our old haunts. There were boats we recognized from five years ago. Dogs greeted us from their foredecks, wearing tiny lifejackets. Sophie and Rosy were waved over to one cockpit where a sweet couple passed over a few daisies. Flower petals in the dinghy. This is our new life.

I have missed the internet and will get back on a regular posting schedule soon. For now, we are simply adjusting. Adjusting to being so close together, adjusting to less water pressure, a smaller stove, daylight savings time, and sleeping arrangements (John and I WILL have the forepeak for our own, as soon as I can piece together a containment device for Rosy’s bed). I need to take some pictures of the boat with its mast up. For now our Buddhist prayer flags and tiny flipflops in the cockpit mark our territory. Our new home.

The List

I’m quite sure the list will never end. As the old saying goes, once you “finish” your boat, it’s time to sell it. I feel like we’re only getting started with “Betty” (her nickname- proper name, “Rubicon”). But looking back over the past four years, it’s a bit startling to see how far we’ve come.

Just a few of the big things we’ve (and by we, I mean 95% John) done, in no particular order:
-sandblasted hull and re-painted four dozen layers of zinc, epoxy, and polyurethane
-new bottom paint
-repaired rudder
-replaced all running and standing rigging
-welded new exterior chainplates
-cut off all stanchions and rubrail
-replaced bow roller
-new Samson post
-relocated cockpit drains, new thru-hulls and stainless pipe
-relocated bilge pump thru-hulls (a deceptively enormous bit of work)
-new bilge pump
-new AC/shorepower wiring
-new DC wiring
-new head and holding tank, new vent
-new flanges and valves on intake/discharge thru-hulls
-cut out rust and rewelded openings for ports in main cabin
-rebedded deck hardware and boom gallows
-removed old wooden hatch trim and turtle
-fabricated, installed, sealed all new wood around hatch
-new covers for cockpit lockers
-all new plumbing for freshwater system, new pickups for tank
-new sheaves for mast
-new rollerfurling
-modified/repaired headsails
-new boom
-recovered all cushions in salon, new cockpit cushions
-an infinite number of hours of chipping, grinding, priming, painting rust spots

our big purchases:
-new VHF and remote mic
-cutting torch and tanks
-grinder (nothing but rave reviews for the Makita grinder we own. it’s a workhorse)
-new AC and DC panels
-new batteries and charger
-2 Honda generators and kit to combine their power
-portable welder (saved the day!!)
-2 anchors
-new inflatable dinghy and motor
-halyards
-rigging (holy wire, Batman!)
-tons of wood
-plastic for ports
-gasket material (holy rubber, Batman!)
-zincs
-paint paint paint
-tools tools tools
-hose clamps by the dozen
-head and holding tank
-tens of dozens of grinding discs, box after box of sandpaper
-at least a million foam brushes
-two enormous shipments of paint
-Corroseal, corroseal, corroseal
-stainless steel by the truckful
-fabric, zippers, foam
-French press for coffee

Our big projects for the next month are the engine and the propane system, along with securing the rig and working out any bugs with the sailing system. I am in the process of replacing all of the overhead and piecing together trim that is scattered across the boat. Note to self, when a boat was built with a custom interior, expect that nothing fits together logically. Things that appear the same size are mere illusions. Everything has its one particular spot and no other.

Just as we have our one particular boat. Perfect for us. Ready for us.
Our new home.

ps- I found the old post from 9/2005, when we bought Betty. And had no children. And had no idea of what we were getting ourselves into.

Red Pot Meals! Chicken Tortilla Soup

This is among my favorite things to eat. I crave it, I love it. It’s GOOD on so many levels. The recipe’s from Citymama- I usually make half this amount, and have plenty for my wee family. Try it, you won’t regret it.

Chicken Tortilla Soup- serve with cheese, avocado, and lots of crushed chips.

• 3 lbs. chicken (all breast or a combination of light and dark meat)
• 16 cups water
• 1 cup butter
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 3 stalks celery, cut in half lengthwise then diced
• 3 carrots, diced
• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 2 tsps. paprika
• 4-6 tsps. Lawry’s Seasoned Salt (or regular salt if you prefer)
• 4 tsps. ground cumin
• 2 cans Ro*Tel tomatoes (15 oz), use mild if serving kids if you prefer
• 2 cans diced green chiles (4 oz)
• 1 pint of sour cream (low fat okay)

Cook the chicken in a large pot of water. (I drop the chicken into simmering water and “poach” for about 20 minutes. Then I remove the chicken right away so it doesn’t get tough.) Chop chicken and set aside, saving all the broth for later.

Melt butter in another large pot and cook onion, garlic, celery, and carrots over medium heat until onions are translucent. Gradually add the flour, paprika, seasoned salt, and cumin (you are basically making a roux). Slowly add reserved broth, a ladle at a time, and cook until thickened, stirring constantly.

Add rotel and chiles. Stir and add chicken. (At this point, you can keep the soup indefinitely.) Just before serving, stir in sour cream and heat through but do not boil. Serve in bowls topped with garnish.

ps- another bike I love. Though I’m still planning my rickshaw.