I cashed in my 401k. (A tough decision once I remembered I had one to cash in, but if I don't survive the winter, there will be no retirement to plan for.) I paid off the boat (WAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!), got a survey done (my boat is worth 3k more than I paid for it!), and it just occurred to me that, with careful shopping, I can get nearly everything on that wish-list. And still have 6 months' living socked away.
Today, I've got to fix leaks ahead of the impending rain. The surveyor gave me stellar suggestions about where they might be coming from.
Showing posts with label Voyager. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Voyager. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Galley slaving: photographing the refit
I gave the staff at the harbor master's office the following slideshow, to let them know why I've been spending so much time on the boat. It includes images explained in prior posts, but I'm just going to put them all here.
It was a TRIP to look back at this stuff. It was a great opportunity to feel how remarkable my progress has been. I told the assistant harbor master, "I have to work in 10-20 minute increments, because of the problem with my hands. I’m not whining, I just want you to be suitably impressed." So bear that in mind ...
Joyce took this picture shortly after I bought the boat. Note the tiny shelf holding dishes, and a big open space with a mop handle leaning across it. That space originally held an oven; without that, it's just useless gap.
First, I extended that tiny shelf with a couple of red oak planks and put a hinge between them, providing access to the under-counter space. Then I installed a beautiful redwood board, chosen for its relative softness (less damaging to land against in a blow) and fire resistance, since this is where I put my camp stove (often stowed when not in use.)
The green hair scrunchy is attached to an eye screw. That's what you use to pull up the front half of the shelf. Easy to find, easy to use, easy to replace, hard to break.
In the next picture, you're looking underneath the lifted oak shelf to the teapot and pans below. You're looking at almost every cooking dish.
Pretty compact, huh?
Underneath those, I put the garbage and recycling bins. Note the space between them, so you can brace yourself with 1 foot forward:
I got tired of tripping over whichever pair of shoes I wasn't wearing, so I got a couple of coat hooks and improvised a secure shoe rack out of the way, but close to the companionway. When you're standing facing the galley, this is on your left, towards the front of the ship:
To me, the next picture represents a real coup. There was some kind of air leak in the fresh water line, and I finally found the damn thing and locked it off until I can fix the other sink. So, after nine months of running around filling bottles, I finally have flowing water:
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I've been doing with my summer. And part of my spring.
Also been working on brightwork (installed wood, to you landlubbers), sorting out stowage, fixing & reinstalling the door to the head, getting rid of moldy cushions, working out a functional computer set up (almost there), and trying to nerve myself to the task of teaching the cat to use the toilet so I don't have to keep wrestling with the litter box. It's one of the biggest items on the boat! There's something very wrong with that. Think about it…
It was a TRIP to look back at this stuff. It was a great opportunity to feel how remarkable my progress has been. I told the assistant harbor master, "I have to work in 10-20 minute increments, because of the problem with my hands. I’m not whining, I just want you to be suitably impressed." So bear that in mind ...
Joyce took this picture shortly after I bought the boat. Note the tiny shelf holding dishes, and a big open space with a mop handle leaning across it. That space originally held an oven; without that, it's just useless gap.
First, I extended that tiny shelf with a couple of red oak planks and put a hinge between them, providing access to the under-counter space. Then I installed a beautiful redwood board, chosen for its relative softness (less damaging to land against in a blow) and fire resistance, since this is where I put my camp stove (often stowed when not in use.)
The green hair scrunchy is attached to an eye screw. That's what you use to pull up the front half of the shelf. Easy to find, easy to use, easy to replace, hard to break.
In the next picture, you're looking underneath the lifted oak shelf to the teapot and pans below. You're looking at almost every cooking dish.
Pretty compact, huh?
Underneath those, I put the garbage and recycling bins. Note the space between them, so you can brace yourself with 1 foot forward:
I got tired of tripping over whichever pair of shoes I wasn't wearing, so I got a couple of coat hooks and improvised a secure shoe rack out of the way, but close to the companionway. When you're standing facing the galley, this is on your left, towards the front of the ship:
To me, the next picture represents a real coup. There was some kind of air leak in the fresh water line, and I finally found the damn thing and locked it off until I can fix the other sink. So, after nine months of running around filling bottles, I finally have flowing water:
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I've been doing with my summer. And part of my spring.
Also been working on brightwork (installed wood, to you landlubbers), sorting out stowage, fixing & reinstalling the door to the head, getting rid of moldy cushions, working out a functional computer set up (almost there), and trying to nerve myself to the task of teaching the cat to use the toilet so I don't have to keep wrestling with the litter box. It's one of the biggest items on the boat! There's something very wrong with that. Think about it…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
