But wait. There's More!

Every so often, when my self esteem is in danger of reaching a psychologically healthy level, I threaten to start a "broke log." Similar in function to the maintenance log I will probably never get around to making, the purpose of my broke log is twofold. Primarily it is to help me plan my days. Variety, as we all know, is the spice of life and that, I have discovered, is also the secret to rewarding boat repair work. So rather than tackle similar types of repairs in succession, I like to mix it up a bit. If I fix (OK, fail to fix) a plumbing issue one day, I'll usually opt for, say, a carpentry or electrical problem to fail to fix the next.
For instance, the day before yesterday, I installed a shower sump pump in the port head. We had to purchase a new one because we'd move the pump that was there to the starboard head when the starboard head sump pump inexplicably stopped pumping. It still ran, it just didn't pump anymore. Not ones to jump at an additional expense unnecessarily, I did due diligence by way of trying to diagnose its malfunction before dashing its stupid little gears against a rock...figuratively speaking, of course. I made sure its hoses to and from weren't blocked. I took it apart to investigate. I cleaned and replaced the diaphragm and valves (the only troubleshooting suggestion given in the owner's manual. I even took apart the (then) port head sump pump to compare the two and to ensure that I'd replaced the diaphragm and valves correctly. I had. It looked just like the functioning pump as far as I could tell, yet it did not pump, so I killed it...I mean I threw it away, but not before extracting the perfectly good diaphragm and valves as spares.

So the day before yesterday, I decided to install the replacement pump in the port head since we're stuck here in Key West anyway while waiting for a part for the generator and while we figure out if our SSB is transmitting or not. To simplify things as much as possible, we purchased the exact same model of pump as was there. All I'd need to do was connect two wires, two hoses, and mount the thing using the exact same holes and wham, bam, done!. And so I connected the two wires, red to red, black to black and flipped the breaker to verify that it had power. It did. Next I mounted it on the wall and did not drop a screw, not even a washer into the bilge in the process. Finally, I connected the two hoses, double checking that the hose from the shower pan went to the inflow side of the pump and that the one going to the thru-hull was connected to the outflow side of the pump. This was made considerably easier both by the bend in the hoses and their orientation with regard to the pump and by the arrow on the pump's housing indicating the direction of flow. A simple fix though it was, I must say I handled it like a pro. Flip the switch to watch the last of the rain that had spilled in when we forgot to close the hatch convulse rhythmically away and then cocktails--even a few minutes early to celebrate.

It was déjà vu all over again. It ran but it didn't pump. The water got sucked down a little but came gurgling right back up when I shut off the pump. But I soldiered on. First, I turned it on a half dozen more times to try to get magic to fix it. Next, I double checked the seacock. Yes, the seacock was open. Yes the hoses were connected correctly. Yes, the joker valve was in the outflow line. And after checking all that, it was after quitting time so I dubbed it a "tomorrow issue" and fetched my now not celebratory cocktail.

I'd resigned myself to having to pick up the next morning where I'd left off, but my luck turned around. I was saved from the tedium of having to work on the same problem two days in a row by a worsening situation with the plumbing in the starboard head. Yesterday, I awoke to water splashing over the doorway of the head and into the passageway. The deck of the head was under three inches of water. It had happened a couple of times before in the previous few days, but I attributed the accumulated water to the same rainstorm that dampened our port head on the first occasion and to I-don't-want-to-think-about-it on the second. However, this time was worse. "Totally unfair!" I cried. "The same problem (albeit with curiously opposite symptoms) on both sides." However, upon an initial investigation, I discovered I was somewhat luckier than it first appeared. The flooding wasn't coming from seawater that was backing up through the sump pump and into the shower pan. It was coming from the head inlet pump that wasn't shutting completely and letting seawater in to overflow the toilet. That's a little more like it. An uncontrollable flow of water into the boat takes precedence over water that won't leave the boat any day. So I got a reprieve from having to work on the port pump two days in a row while I failed to find out what was wrong with the starboard head inlet pump. I know through long and consistent experience that failing to fix an assortment of problems is less tedious than failing at the same problem over and over.

The secondary purpose of my broke log is to have a historical record. For some reason not even medical science can fathom, I still harbor a hope, no even more, a belief that I will get better (although "better" is highly misleading in this instance) at repairing JOY's parts. I can use my log to verify or refute this contention of mine. With entries for date of malfunction, nature of malfunction, date of repair, and who repaired it, I'll be able to determine whether, over time, I become a more competent handyman, (as in at all) or whether we just give up and seek professional help sooner. Really, I no longer care which. Self worth is frankly a non-issue at this point.

But, you know...then again...as I think about...it occurs to me that maybe there's another way to understand this, this battering of my self esteem over these last eight months. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but maybe there's a greater good that can be served here. Perhaps I can do something, something, well, important. I mean, not to toot my own fog horn or anything, but I think I may just be onto something and by "something" I mean something bigger than me, bigger than any one person, maybe even bigger than a whole nation of people. Yeah, the more I look at this the easier it is to see. I am a trailblazer. That's it. This time of crushing self doubt has given me a purpose in life, a calling. I am a crusader. No. It's more than that; it's deeper. I am THE crusader, the avant garde, the harbinger of a new day, a new era. I have been chosen--by whom or what, I don't know--but I have been chosen to found a movement in this country...at least. Who knows, maybe...more. A sorely needed movement whose time has long come. That's it. That is it! I am the chosen founder and leader of the dawn of a new day, a whole new way of being. I am to usher in The Age of Humility.

I can see it all so clearly now. Of course! Even if I can't fix my toilet--no! Because I can't fix my toilet I can change the world.





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