What a difference a day makes

24 little hours...

Yesterday was nasty.  Cool, rainy, and windy!   I got the dogs to the dog park in the morning before the rain hit, which was good.

Sorry that this pic is askew, but the boat was rocking a bit.   This is looking out the channel towards the seawall and Long Island Sound.  We're well protected in here, but Megan (Pam's daughter) got a little queasy last night anyway.  I guess we'll have to get her some dramamine.

Today dawned sunny and beautiful.   The boat heated up quickly, both from the sun and from cooking breakfast.  I turned off the diesel heater and turned on the air conditioning in the main cabin.   Smudge found a nice soft place to enjoy the morning.

No wonder my clothes are always covered in white stuff.  Here I thought it was from me.

Last night high tide was predicted to be 8.8 feet at 11 PM, which is a couple of feet higher than normal.   The strong winds were out of the east yesterday, which piled up Long Island Sound at the western end where we are, resulting in high tide probably at 10 feet or more.   This is what a normal high tide looks like.

The tide went up over the rock wall and onto the grassy area and parking lot.   It did no damage and we got a bonus.  A new stick!

The dogs enjoy playing tug of war with a stick more than just about anything.

I enjoy people watching from our boat.  There's a yacht club and a marina behind us, a public park to our east, and a public beach and boat launch ramp to our south.   I found this person interesting.

That's a long walk out the seawall, and it looks like it requires good balance.

And I see that J787 is back.   I took a photo of him two years ago and reported sighting him to the USGS and Environment Canada.

The Catalina Goose was back too.

And finally, I spotted our Osprey's nest.  There's a baseball field in a park beyond the yacht club, a nice one with lights for night games.  One of the light poles is outfitted with a box for Osprey's to nest in.  

I wonder how Osprey's know what it's for?

Getting Mauled By My Own Dogs

Saturday was a nice day for sitting outside.  I had finished cleaning up the storage bins under the helm in the flybridge of many years worth of clutter and debris and was celebrating with a couple of victory beers on the foredeck.  It was sunny and warm, and the dogs were enjoying it as much as I was.

Ruby and Chevy were doing guard dog duty, watching for evil doers, communists, and whoemever else posed a threat to national security.

They soon got bored with that and decided to play with whatever was handy.  Anything is a toy to a dog, and towels are just  fine.

They soon tired of that as well and decided a dog nap was in order.

That looked good to me too.  There was a tarp lying on the deck and the sun had heated it up nicely.   It looked like a perfect place to lay down and reflect on world matters through the inside of my eye lids.

The dogs thought this was a curious thing for me to do and came over to investigate.  Ruby, the very protective and motherly female, decided that I needed saving from Chevy, the vicious pit bull.

She climbed on top of me where she could defend me best.  She was insistent and I was having a hard time getting her off.   I called for help from Pam, and being the dutiful girlfriend, decided to grab the camera instead to record my impending doom.

FYI- dogs don't care where they step on you.   A couple of shouts of pain got Chevy's attention...

and Ruby was right there to fight him off. 

Ruby then thought my face needed washing and proceeded to clean me up.   



It looks like she's trying to eat my eyeball in the photo below, but she's actually smothering me in dog kisses.

Side note- it looks like I'm getting a little thin on top. 

Well, I never got my nap.   But it's reassuring to know that I'm at least well protected from evil doers, communists, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Chevy.

Morning Reflections

This morning was simply beautiful.   Sunny, no wind, and 43 degrees, so Pam and I decided to have morning coffee on the foredeck, one of our favorite places.   I brought along the camera to share this perfect morning with you.

We both love living aboard.   To our landlubber friends, it's difficult to explain.   To our liveaboard and cruising friends, no explanation is necessary. 

Waterfowl love Catalina Sailboats

There's a little Catalina 22 sailboat docked at the yacht club just astern of Drift Away.   It seems to be a favorite perch for a local Osprey.   He shows up at dusk, which makes taking photos difficult, even with my camera's anti-shake software.   These two are a bit better of the ones I took a week ago.

What a beautiful bird.

Pam and I also got a kick out of this Canada Goose who looked like he was trying to untie the dock lines to go for a sail.

This morning's sunrise was very nice and made getting up to see it worthwhile.
 

I think it's a good thing that I'm the only one up at this hour.  Most of our neighbors don't hit the showers until 7 AM.   I don't know what they'd think if they saw me walking up to the showers with my towel, shaving kit, and camera. 

Stick Wrestling and Trashing Electronics

Non-boaters usually live in houses.  It's the normal way to live.  Living on a boat is different for sure, but also much the same.

I have an old friend who lives on a small lake in upstate New York.  He often writes about the wildlife around his house, and finds bear and raccoon tracks, among others.   I imagine it is only a matter of time until he comes face to face with bears and raccoons.   I often awake in the morning to neighbors like these...

I took the dogs for a walk around the marina, and they decided to forego the usual romp in the park and headed down the marina's boardwalk.  

There's a small grassy area down there that they like to play in.   They're favorite game is to stick-wrestle.  One dog picks up a stick and taunts the other with it until a chase ensues, with the result being a wrestling match for ownership of the stick.   Sometimes, this results in two sticks and some confusion.

While there we met a neighbor who wintered his boat on "A" dock with us, but as soon as the weather warmed up moved back to his summer dock.   Miro was returning from a spin on his jetski, and invited us for coffee on his dock.

The dogs really like Miro and he likes them.   We had coffee on his dock, basking in sunshine.   Ruby enjoyed some sunbathing...

and watching her brother eat shells.  

Seagulls dropped clams, oysters, and mussels onto the dock to crack them open and to eat what's inside, but Chevy was very happy crunching on the shells themselves.

Soon though, it was back to the boat with a determination to accomplish a boat project, dispite how beautiful the day was.   We can't waste a Sunday without accomplishing something on this project boat.    I decided to tackle the electronics and remove the 1980s vintage Satellite Navigator and radar.   This is before...

and this is after.

That would be thousands of dollars of obsolete electronics being tossed in the dumpster, soon to be replaced with thousands of dollars worth of a fancy dancy integrated GPS, AIS transceiver, broadband radar, and chart plotter, which in 20 years will be ripped out and tossed in a dumpster by some young punk. 

The new electronics take up much less space than the old so this area will be used by Pam as a workspace to make her seaglass jewelry, which she is doing very well with.



The Day in Photos

Today was a typical, lazy Saturday.   First order of duty... doodie.   Dog doodie.  On the way back to the boat, Ruby checked out a pair of geese.

And then back to the boat for snuggle time.

Pam had to work, so I was in charge of washing the dishes and taking the dogs to the park and then back at the boat for lunch.  It was a beautiful spring day today, sunny and 57 degrees.   I had better get a couple of boat projects done.  Nothing too ambitious.   That will be coming up soon enough.   First, I drilled a bigger hole for the power cord for the convection oven.   Total time, about ten minutes.   Not enough to qualify for a victory beer and a nap.

Next up, removing the cardboard from the refrigerator compressor vent louvers.   The cold plate compressors are under the galley sink.   They get very hot and a big fan vents the hot air outside the boat.  Last fall, I decided to block the vent off with cardboard to keep the cold air out and the hot air inside the boat where it would do some good.   With temps in the 40s at night, I decided that now was the time to remove it.

That job took about 30 minutes, which included searching for the right sized screwdriver, peeling off black gorilla tape and cardboard, and depositing it in the dumpster.   Up to 40 minutes of boat projects... which rounds up to one hour, which qualified for a victory beer on the foredeck.  

Afterwards, I decided on a nap.   On my way to the berth, I passed these lazy loads. 

Really... what good are cats on a liveaboard boat?

For that matter, what good are dogs?

This has nothing to do with boats

Not a thing about boats, living aboard boats, or boating related in any way.   I just need to vent.

I HATE DRIVING IN CONNECTICUT.   There.  Feeling much better.

Seriously though, I've driven all over most of the United States.  I've seen stupid drivers in New York, and bad drivers in Massachusetts, but Connecticut boasts the most agressive drivers I've ever seen anywhere.   At least the Stamford area, which is considered part of Metro NYC, so I'm guessing that drivers all over Metro New York drive the same way and so this applies to them too.

I learned to drive in New York State and moved here a couple of years ago.  I don't really know Connecticut's rules of the road and I suppose I should research them, but this is what I've figured out on my own.

First, there are no laws or rules of the road in Connecticut, only suggestions. 

When you're stopped at a traffic light and it turns green on your side, at least one car on the other side will go through their red light.   A second and third car will also go through if they're tailgating close enough so it counts as one big car.   I know this because I've not only seen it, but I was rear ended for stopping for a red light.  The guy who hit me seemed confused, and told me that he expected me to go.

Speed limits mean nothing, not even in school zones.  Add at least ten miles per hour over any sign.   I-95, for example, has a posted speed limit of 55 MPH.   No one goes that slow.  You'd get killed.   The right hand lane is for 60 to 65 MPH, the middle lane 70 to 75, and the left lane is for 80 MPH plus.   If you lane hop, you can easily do 100 MPH.  

I have never seen a Connecticut trooper pull anyone over on I-95.   I actually saw a trooper doing 80 in the left lane in a long line of cars also going 80 and get passed on the right by a lane hopper.   Last year, a New York police officer actually gave a Maserati driver a ticket for 100 MPH on the Long Island Expressway.  He protested in court, saying he was doing at least 130.  Really.  You can't make this stuff up.

If you leave a car length plus three inches between you and the car ahead of you, someone will pull in between.  While this may happen at any time, on I-95 it is usually someone in the left lane who has waited until the last possible second for his exit, and will cut from the left lane right in front of you and then continue to the right lane and to his exit.

Women I-95 drivers will never let you merge.  Never.  They know you won't flip them the bird.

It is perfectly OK to use interstate exit and entrance ramps as passing lanes.  In the city, it is OK to use left turn only lanes as passing lanes as well.

Tractor trailers and buses may not use the left most lane, and are restricted to the right and middle lanes of I-95.  This means that they must tailgate those in front of them to get them the hell out of the way.

The motorcycle season will be here very shortly.   There is no helmet law in Connecticut.  Why bother?  A helmet won't do much when you crash at 90+ MPH.  

Motorcycles do not have to observe lanes.   If they fit, they go.   Down the shoulder, between lanes of automobiles, where ever.

When stopped at a red light, you have exactly one tenth of a second to move when it turns green.  Anything more and the car behind you will lean on his horn.

Connecticut has no annual safety inspection for automobiles.   Most vehicles have at least one brake light burned out, many have two, and many have no brake lights at all.   These people are probably lane hoppers and are constantly slamming on their brakes, which shortens the life of the bulbs.

So take warning if you intend to drive down here.   I believe it was Paul Newman, a Westport CT resident, who said he felt safer driving 180 MPH on the racetrack than driving on I-95.