Raft-Up: Non-Productive Crewmembers Waste Space!

Fernando Botero's Cat.  Beautiful, but non-productive.

"Have nothing in your house [or boat] that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." William Morris

Space is a strictly limited commodity on a boat, so what you choose to bring aboard speaks volumes (sorry) about your priorities. When we prepared to move on to JOY, we sold or gave away a vast majority of our Stuff. But what about the stuff that came with us? This month, Raft-Up bloggers discuss our "Space Splurges" - the stuff that we brought on board that maybe we shouldn't have, but just couldn't live without.

So I pondered this topic. For about five seconds. In my mind's eye, I scrolled past the bronze bird sculpture, the electric tea kettle, the pink plastic buddha, the heating pad, and the martini shaker. Seriously, we have all these things on JOY and could not live without them. But the space used by these small items is nothing compared to our major space wasters: we call them Isabel, Percy, and Tucker.

Isabel, Percy, and Tucker are the cats. Cats on a catamaran. Cute idea. But really, they are NOT useful. And oh my heavens, let me tell you about the space we waste on them. We have three litter boxes, which we've arrayed in the forward berths. Hard to walk in there, and they scatter the litter, so the remaining walkable space is a bit crumbly. We store newspapers and bags for litter box clean up. And the litter itself. It is heavy and comes in big boxes. Then there's the food. As landlubbers, our darlings ate both canned food and dry food, and we have continued this feeding regimen on the boat. Three cats can go through three or four cans of food a day, plus dry food. And the food and water dishes take up a pretty substantial portion of our floor space. We have a scratching post, as well, which also takes up valuable floor space.  Throw in a bit of cat first aid and cat medicine. And cat carriers, in case we want to take them to the vet or pack them into the life raft. And a file folder stuffed with cat paperwork.

Raft-Up: Branding Our Boat?

This month's Raft-Up topic is about "stuff." Well, okay: with more specificity, it's about stuff that has your boat's name on it (personalized hats or tshirts, for example) and stuff you give away to local folks when you're cruising. How are these two types of stuff connected? Honestly, we're kinda new to the whole cruising scene, so we're learning as we go. The personalized stuff is called SWAG, short for "stuff we all get." In the world of commerce, a company gives away SWAG to "build its brand" and promote business. Apparently, some cruisers give SWAG to people they meet in the foreign countries they visit.

We don't have any SWAG yet, but we do have a logo, a website, and a "boat card," which is the cruiser's version of a business card.

I Am Shocked by How Little I Understand Electricity

As ardent followers of this blog well know, we now have lots of power on JOY. You know this because I've said so repeatedly. We know this because the guys at SALT said so repeatedly. Our solar panels generate 654 watts, our house battery bank has or is or is rated at or generates or stores over 1500 amp hours...of something. On top of that, we have (had) a 5 kilowatt diesel generator. Doubtless, it will be a generator again someday. It currently serves as a 392 pound stern weight, handy in the event a whale or some other leviathan runs up JOY's butt.

Condensation

Here in this very blurry photo (sorry, it was a low-light situation that my phone camera couldn't adjust to), is the "keep" pile from our four-bedroom house-worth of stuff.  Actually, only the bottom half of the stuff in this closet is ours.

Despite having a hunch that it would turn out this way, I am still amazed  by how much more stuff we had than we cared about.

More Packing and Joyless Days

Now... I am watching the premiere of Terra Nova and Ean is snoring beside me..... We are working hard. Today we filled up our dumpster, took a beetle-ful to Goodwill, and loaded the car with boxes bound for Half-Price Books.


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Days Without Joy

I am watching the premiere of Pan Am while Ean snores beside me. We have had a long, hard day, doing what we have now acknowledged is "packing." How crazy. Our time here is so short. Our new home waits for us in Annapolis.


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Timeline, REVISED

Our original "cast off" date was February 1, 2012. We set this date when we went to Strictly Sail Chicago. At the time, it seemed quite reasonable - and now that we have blown that plan out of the water, I am remembering, somewhat wistfully, just how reasonable it was. In the original plan, we were going to start "shopping to buy" during the Annapolis boat show, in early October. But then we got tripped up on Shiraz. Shiraz felt right. We thought about it, talked about it, envisioned ourselves on board. The reasons to wait couldn't hold up to the attractions of making the leap. Now, mid-leap, we are feeling the stress of our new, greatly compressed timeline.... Our revised cast off date is... let's say October Twenty-Something.... It is, of course our STUFF that will hold us back. Gotta get rid of our STUFF.

As I type, we are in the air, jetting towards Annapolis and Joy. We are boat owners today.

Our Last Day as Boatless Dirt-Dwellers

Joy will be ours tomorrow, if all goes as planned.  We certainly will be split between two worlds for the next month.  We need to finish up the house, put it on the market, prepare for our estate sale, give stuff away (this afternoon: Salvation Army comes for bookshelves, file cabinets, a TV stand, and other miscellaneous stuff), fill up the dumpster that we just had delivered, pack up a few precious items (including the cats!), and say a final goodbye to MKE.  But, in our OTHER reality, we will already be boat owners, live aboards, CRUISERS.  Never mind that we haven't yet cruised.  In our hearts, and in our bank account (ouch), we will be on our way.

We are flying to Annapolis tomorrow, so we will be ON the boat for our first few days of Boat Ownership.  Wish I had some good meds for the panic attacks that are sure to closely follow completion of the sale.  Hey, how do you work this thing?

Update, 9-17: Seems pinot grigio works okay to quell the panic....

So Long, Old Friend(s)

Yesterday was one of those days that reminds us that part of welcoming in the new is bidding farewell to the old.  We have been a two-car, or more accurately, one car, one truck family for almost as long as we've been married.  I had wanted a truck for a very long time which reminded Jane of a story from when she was a child.  It was about a little boy who asks his mom for all sorts of things and to each request the mom answers, "Maybe someday, Billy."  "Someday" finally came and my truck was dubbed "Billy."

We had many adventures together, Billy and me and he carted everything we bought to remodel our house with, countless trips to Home Depot.  But Billy started to get old, as everything does and seemed to need a new part every day: windshield, muffler, brakes, and on the morning I was going to drive him to the mechanic to get everything fixed, the starter went out.  It was a little sooner than we'd planned, but clearly it was time to say put him up for sale.  So, one notice on craigslist and 48 hours later Billy drove off with his new owner.  I feel like I ought to miss him, but in truth, everything I subtract from my life only makes me feel less weighed down, more able to move on to the next phase of our lives.  Still, I'm sure that some sunny day this summer when I'm bringing home 6 8ft. 2x4s and 2 4x8 sheets of drywall on my bike, I'll wish I still had my old friend.  I hope he likes his new life as much as I know I'll like mine.  Fair winds, Billy.

(The other old friend is my hair.)

                       

Old Dogs, New Tricks

In the past couple of weeks, our beloved Floey-dog has died, and we have passed the one-year anniversary of my dad's death.  It's been hard to write about an exciting future when I've been thinking about the past.  Linnea has lost her old dog within the last few months as well.  Both Harriet and Floey had long, good lives (14+ years), and they both were "put to sleep" in the end, instead of being left to struggle through to their last ragged breaths.  For both of us, these more recent losses have re-surfaced our feelings about Dad's death, with thoughts of how much harder it was for him.  Ean and I were with him in his last hours, and although I can hope that he was not aware or in pain, his BODY struggled and struggled on.  The nurse told me that I should hold his hand and tell him it was all right to "let go."  I hope the part of him who could have understood that message was long gone by then.  We felt the hanging on, more than the letting go.  The end of a life is a sad thing to see, however it might be accompanied by relief, or love, or happy memories, or gratitude.

One of my favorite pics of Floey - Sunset Lake

But I haven't been immersed in sadness.  Ean and I have been engaged in some impressive change efforts.  Old dogs ourselves, learning some cool new tricks.

Getting Unstuffed

We have had boxes in our living room and dining room ever since summer.  We hauled them down from the attic when we were turning our second floor into a gorgeous master bedroom suite. Most of it was "teacher stuff" or more generally "school stuff."  I kept thinking I'd need it again.  Also a lot of left over technology - old monitors, printers, laptops, mice (?), keyboards, and so on.  Today, Ean took two TRUCKLOADS of stuff to Goodwill.  Good for us!  And although we're happy to have our living/dining rooms box-free, we have already managed to start the next Goodwill "pile."  Also, Ean has six boxes of books tucked away in his office, ready to go to Half-Price Books... Tons of education books.  I even managed to part with all my Dick Francis.  A bit painful - but we want an unstuffed life.  

Stuff

          I could leave but I'll just stay

          All my stuff's here anyway.

                              from Pinch Me, Barenaked Ladies

We are contemplating our stuff.  We have a lot of stuff.  And as much as we have loved our little bungalow, we will both be SO relieved to see the end of it.  Mainly, this 2200 square foot house (plus full basement) serves our stuff.  It is a huge storage locker.  Linnea kept a storage locker for five years after she packed up the Hammond house. She paid $40 a month so her extra stuff would have a place to live, and when she finally looked at the stuff, she threw it all away.  Our stuff is not as important as we think it is.  

I am remembering Hurricane Opal.  It was heading toward Pensacola, and I had been asked to report to the Naval Air Station for duty.  I had a moment to look around my house, where I lived alone.  Opal was a BIG hurricane and it was heading right for us.  I took my cats, my passport, and some frozen homemade pasties that my mom had made.  Cats and passport are easy to explain.  The pasties - more complicated - but I suppose they reminded me that I am loved, and I am connected to family and my heritage.  Altogether a good reminder of priorities.

Here in present day Milwaukee, I was so impressed with Ean's HUGE pile of "goodwill" clothes that I whipped through my half of the closet and thinned it by a third.  Our stuff is like an anchor, holding us firmly attached to this old life.  We are ready to drop the chain and go.