The Bad Side of Boat Work

“I have a splitting headache.” I hand Skye down to Geoff and proceed to climb slowly off the boat, trying to keep my head as still as possible. I am not prone to headaches, especially now that I’ve gotten good about wearing sunglasses so that I don’t overwork my eyes. But often now, when working on the boat, I’ll leave after a few hours with my head pounding.

2016-01-27 15.20.08I scrubbed mold off of wood and fiberglass, from underneath floorboards, from off the ceiling and inside the head. I have slowly been winning the battle against mold. But yesterday, as Skye napped in the vberth and the headache came on, I realize there was still one more place to conquer, underneath the headliner.

Now, I get it. The carpety headliner dampens sounds and absorbs moisture, making the boat all around more pleasant. But it is nasty after have set up for so long and full of mold. My hope was to get all the deck leaks repaired before replacing it, but the urgency may move up once we move on the boat if keeping the hatches open still doesn’t provide enough air flow to combat the mold.

Meanwhile, my many helpers are at work scrubbing the bottom, scrubbing the lockers, and removing old corroded hinges to be replaced with shiny new ones. I’ve moved in a few trinkets just to make the boat feel a little like home. It’s amazing how far a few clothes hangers and books go in making a place feel right.

The count-down till move-aboard is on and I’m impatient. We were at a yacht club party Saturday night and someone asked me how I was doing living in a house. I answered honestly, “I miss the boat, I miss my space, I miss having just what I need and no extra space. I miss sitting outside in the cockpit eating supper and having to remove Skye two-dozen times from the ladder.” We’ve got a long way yet to go on boat work, but slowly it is coming together and soon it will at least be liveable and most important, in the water. Then we can make it our home.

A Post by Skye

Since she is determined to type:

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Half-Way though a Whole 30

My whole 30 got off to a rough start – instead of a day to prepare, I got a day to grieve. My first day I was treated to trying to figure out what I could eat at McDonalds and picking around in the vegetable soup for nourishment. By the second day, Geoff and I made a mad dash to the Whole Foods and gorged ourselves, but didn’t stock up since we were hours from home. We limped through day three, when I was supposed to stock up but went visiting at the hospital instead. By day four, I was finally starting to get the right foods in the house. By day six we were starting to get the hang of what to eat, I was cranky and tried (but perhaps there were other causes to this). But day ten, wishing the good vibes would kick in, I almost broke down and had a glass of wine. Saved by Le Croix. Day 16 and there’s still been no magic boost of energy or better sleeping (again, other stressors are undoubtedly contributing). But I have lost some weight and my clothes are fitting a lot better. If nothing else, I’ll get the last of the baby weight off and reset my portion size. I really want the magic, the boost in energy. I want to wake up with the energy I need to run or the motivation to throw myself into yoga.

Geoff can’t stop singing the praises of the program, but perhaps he’s in a better mental place to get the benefits. He’s certainly loosing weight as well.

I subscribed to the Whole 30 daily newsletter on the advice of a friend and while I like some of it, I took great issue with the Day 15 advice of “reward yourself!” I’m not against rewards and their point to reward yourself with something other than food. What I didn’t like were their suggestions. Trade reward eating for reward spending! (There was one that didn’t require spending.) Seriously?! I thought this was all about breaking bad habits. I rewarded myself by putting Skye in a swim diaper and taking a long bubble bath. (Swim diapers are necessary for baths longer than five minutes.) Whoo – reward with no spending.

Other rewards include re-watching a chick-flick (or some fun movie) instead of doing yet another chore, going to bed a few minutes early to read, and getting dolled up and insisting Geoff spoil me to a fancy dinner.

So 16 days down, two more weeks to go….