slow down

Working on my fuel line a couple weeks ago triggered a flareup that I'm still recovering from. The flareup made me sick (look up the physiological relationship of stress to illness) so I'm still under the weather, but I came back anyway because I was too homesick. Arthur too; he loves it here.

Yesterday's big accomplishment: I turned the undersink cabinet's door around, so it opens the right way. This means I don't have to take it off when I need to work on the engine or the plumbing. Of course, it's a bit crooked now, but the latch lines up and it opens all the way, so who cares. Note to self: be more careful about lining up cabinetry. Errors show.

Paul came over to help me get started on the AC wiring. Between Paul Standard Time, Isy Standard Time, and Marina Standard Time, that didn't happen, but Cathy and Fran came over and we had a great dinner. Today I loaned Paul "Sailboat Electrics Simplified," full of helpful charts and comments on the difference between marine and dry-land wiring, so I'll call that progress.

I dropped my laptop stepping onto the boat. It leaped out of the backpack and committed hari kiri right there in front of me. Awful. So much for bobbing about in a hurry.

How to: Convert a sanding block to work pedally

I got a wall sander of the sort that has a screw-in socket for you to put your own pole into.

I peeled back the glued-on foam at one end, removed the bolt, and inserted a drawer-pull bolt. I epoxied that in place and screwed on a toe-tested drawer-pull.

I took my lovely sharp Japanese saw and cut off the socket’s axle, then popped the plugs off with a screwdriver.

I cut off a little fuel tubing, which was exactly the right height and diameter to fit neatly where the axle was.

I screwed eye screws (try dictating that into Dragon!) into each end. I threaded a Velcro closure strap through the eyes.

Voilà!

I chose a neon green strap only because it's easy to see in case I drop the sander. It really sets off the pedicure, though, doesn't it?

Feet are rarely dexterous. For extra stability and control, I hold onto 1 foot with the other:

For slightly better horizontal control, I hold the sander between my second and third toes:

H’mm ...

I used to date somebody with a minor foot fetish. Now that I'm posting these pictures, I can't help wondering whether they are entirely decent. The cherry toes seem slighty risqué, and somehow the fact that they're doing something so macho doesn't seem to help.

I'm cracking myself up. Enjoy your weekend, too.

Ship log: Saturday, 3 November

These blog entries tend to go on a bit. I made an agreement with myself to dictate a journal entry before blogging, to clean out my frontal lobe. That should keep these more focused.

Engine:

I decided yesterday was engine day. I took out the fuel filter (finding it with Paul's help) and discovered it was filthy. I cut away half the hose as well, as it was too corroded to let go of the filter. Replaced both, discovering that you can't find these things at Kragen, but have to go to the marine store. The guy at West Marine kindly attached to host one end of the filter, taking two seconds of his own time to save me several minutes’ worth of work. (That gives you some idea of the level of impairment I work with. I'm not interested in whining, I just want to demonstrate scale, so some of my roundabout ways make more sense.)

Once the fuel line was back together, I dosed the tank with water remover, rocked the boat wildly back and forth to mix it, and cranked for ages. I kept thinking of the bleach in the sink, and of waiting for the moment when the needed substance would find its way to the critical point. Didn't happen.

Plumbing:

Called Mugsy to arrange regular pumpouts. Looks like I'm here for a while, so my holding tank had better be a lot more pleasant than it is now.

Tore apart my car looking for the 30 feet of polypropylene tubing I got to re-plumb the fresh water with. It's still hiding.

Stern rail:

I sanded the deck under the feet of the stern rail. 30 years of marine grime packed into a space thinner than a fingernail; soap was inadequate. 220 grit and frequent rinsing worked, though. Russell held the other end of the rail while I marked where to drill through the fiberglass patch under the last foot on the starboard side.

I intended to bolt on the other 3 feet, but after screwing the bolts in from above, my arms were threatening to flare up. I'll have to finish up another day. Too bad. So close!

Outer hull:

I used 3M marine restorer and wax on a couple square feet of the transom, with decent results. I used too much goop, so next time I'll portion it better. For the buffing, I used polyester fleece carwash mitts over my feet.

My kneecaps don't always track right, and this was good exercise for training the muscles that make them behave. It requires very strange maneuvers, though, so I'll have to build up to it slowly, to avoid new injuries -- yawn.

[I'll get a picture posted as soon as I have one.]

Seeing the color (or what's left of it) come up is very encouraging.

Brightwork:

Smug me: I figured out how to sand using my feet. Since that's an illustrated design/adaptation strategy, it gets its own posting.