time frames and schedules–because they limit your ability to herd cats successfully, as they refuse to herd…
nothing happens to a clock.
weather does not hie to a schedule.
there is something telling me quite loudly–a gut feeling– that i am not to leave here yet, despite my dire need to do so. there is a reason i am still finding things done that were geared for catastrophic fail. my boat speaks to me with frightful accuracy.
now it seems oil pan screwloose-itis?, with bilge blackosis. ok. so i only cleaned it well 5 times in past 3 years. ok i guess it is time, yet again.
as i dislike dwelling on past stuff, it is difficult for me to think the person who was here for 6 months befouling my boat, doing exactly opposite that which i requested be done was actually really and truly here only to hurt me and my boat and cat. (could be why , when i sed we leave next week, he ran like stink the flock out of dodge with my lil smartfone, including all my contact numbers and such unimportant stuff).
but most of that has been repaired– i still find things meant to severely impair me and my effort through murder of my boat.
ok so we got it down to only 8 million stressors remaining in my daily life—and dammit my bilge smells like rotting diesel and rotting bilgewater, despite rose soap…. yummmmy… but, why now??it never ever did this before…not even during runaway.
yeah i am on this…would love to be able to reach far enough to be able to take a pic of underneath engine…..without dropping fone into wet nasty bilges…
this afternoon we do soap and dock water wash n rinse with a second person and broom as brush.
whoooohoooo… each one means one less to have to locate and repair…and hopefully ability to depart sooner than …..
but only when that gawdawful feeling of impending doom leaves.
i have never had this before a passage prior to now. not even when i should have, i didnt– this is odd..
and i am still awaiting my boom, the epoxy and helper n clamps to climb and fix mast, and repacking of stuffing boxes, shaft and rudder.
i will run the mizzen halyard forward to redirect the upper mast away from cockpit if the ungodly happens. we are continuing to get done that which is needed to fly away. we wont fly too far of shore nor too close in, we wont fly with daring and pizzazzz, but as a death run , or hail mary run to mazatlan for repairs that are much needed in a limping and somewhat disabled boat, which we are searching thoroughly for potential fail points an repairing before departure–is 180 miles of no where to duck into on an uphill leeshore run. whooot.
so–the first 180 miles ‘ll kill ye, then the second 120 miles to mazatlan from banderas bay will do ye in….no problem.
what can go wrong….
yes i still have a momma, and she only has 3 of us left, so i have to remain safe.