Thursday, 21 July 2016 - High expectations to get the final touch-up work done on the paint job today in preparation for dropping me back in the water tomorrow were dashed when, at about 2pm it started to rain and the boss came to my boat to tell me that they'd had trouble with the boat they put into the water this morning so they'd have to pull it back out. That tied up the crane that they need to lift me so the little areas that the boat sits on on blocks can be painted.
                  It's 3pm. Wait a minute. I just heard them put another boat in the water, freeing up the crane. Maybe there's still time to get the slings under me. There's an hour of work time left.
                  Nope, can't make it, he says. He says there are two boats going in the water early tomorrow morning that they would need the crane for. This is totally BS. That would have happened anyway. If they put me in the slings and painted my boat like they said they would, those boats would have had to wait for me instead of me waiting for them. As it is now, they will be put in before me, then my boat lifted and painted and left to dry during the short day instead of overnight. It says right on the cans of paint that it should dry for 24 hours before being put in the water. He says they can get me lifted by 10 am tomorrow. Of course, that depends on them getting two other boats into the water successfully on time. I'm not going to hold my breath on that.
                  Needless to say, I am not a happy camper! Er, sailor.

Friday, 22 July - They didn't get the crane moved and me lifted and painted until about noon, so I told them I wanted to let the paint dry overnight and get put in tomorrow. They usually don't work on Saturday, but Lee, the boss/owner, agreed to come in with another worker and drop me back in the water at 8 am. Good. I was really afraid they were going to say "Monday".

Saturday, 23 July - I awoke about 6am and couldn't go back to sleep. I got up at 7 and Steve and I skipped breakfast, planning on returning for a good breakfast after my boat was launched and anchored out in the river again. Steve had asked if he could have my old rudder and, of course, I said yes. He'll strip it down to the metal and make something out of it. It probably has 50 to 80 lb. of bronze in it. Actually, I think he said that he has an artist friend that will make a piece of metal art out of it somehow.
                  Everything went well launching and we were back for breakfast about 10am. I washed clothes and moved some of my things out of Steve's boat and back to mine. He spent the afternoon working on his boat and I started returning things on my boat back to where they belong. I had had to move many items on my boat so the workers could access the anchor locker in the bow for access to the bolts for a new bow cleat, the engine room for access to the propeller shaft, and in the aft stateroom to access the rudder and steering equipment, so it seems like almost everything is out of place. I'm sure it will take awhile to get back to "normal" on the boat.
                  Later, as we were headed to dinner, Steve got a call from his old girlfriend and decided to visit her, so I went out for dinner and a margarita. He'll meet me at around 10am to take my boat out for a spin and make sure everything is working well.

Sunday, 24 July - Up at 7am to get the boat ready to sail. Ten o'clock came and went and no Steve. So did 11, 12, 1, 2, etc. I had plenty to do on the boat though, still moving things back to their correct places and putting away bow and stern lines and midship spring lines, which I won't be using for awhile since I'm at anchor, not at a dock. Once I realized Steve wasn't coming, or at least that it was too late to sail, I decided to install the foredeck and aft shade canopies. I have used the aft shade many times. It is small and simple to install and remove. It also keeps rain coming from the stern of the boat from getting everything in the cockpit wet. The foredeck shade however is very large, and, although the previous owners had shown me how it looked installed, it's been a year ago, so I really had to figure it all out again. It took about 2 hours, but I think I have it in place and adjusted pretty well. By keeping the deck in shade, it should keep the whole boat cooler, although it also slows the airflow a bit. If the weather's hot tomorrow, I'll find out what the trade-off amounts to. At 4pm this afternoon I read the temperature of the ceiling of the forepeak stateroom. It was 107°F. If I can remember tomorrow, I'll read it again. Of course, that's only part of the story, but I'm sure it's going to be better with the canopy up. Now the question in my mind is how much wind can it handle without being torn to shreds and when should I take it down? It has to be removed to sail, of course.
                  It sure feels good to be back aboard my own boat. It may not be perfect, but it's mine and it's home, and there's no place like home!

Monday, 25 July - I slept in till 8 o'clock this morning, just because I could. First item on the agenda today was to go get groceries. I have three choices, many bicycle trips to the store on the island, a bus ride over to the mainland, or take the dinghy to the store here on the island. Since I hadn't ever gone to the store in the dinghy I decided to take that route. It's probably a little more expensive than going to Walmart on the mainland, but a lot less hassle. A nice 15 minute dinghy ride compared to waiting for the bus each way, plus I could carry a lot more in the dinghy than I could via the bus. The local store has a dinghy dock right in back of their store. Nice.
                  When I got back and had things put away, I measured the temperature of the ceiling in the forward stateroom...89.5°F. Much nicer than the 107°F. of yesterday.
                  Bonita Bills Bar seemed to have exceptionally good performers tonight - and I won my bandana, this time for knowing what British lady had a hit in the 1966 with "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me" - Dusty Springfield.

Tuesday, 26 July - I spent quite a bit of time today trying to figure out how to get a half inch thick crust of barnacles off the bottom of the dinghy that had accumulated while the "Island Time" was out of the water and the dinghy was in the water for the whole 6 weeks. When the boat is in the water, I raise the dinghy out of the water on the davits almost every night so that scum and barnacles can't get a start on the dinghy hull. Removing them with a scraper was taking the paint off of the aluminum hull, so I decided to try chemicals to dissolve the calcium carbonate that the barnacles shells are made of. According to the internet, almost any acid will do the trick, including CLR, LimeAway, Vinegar, MaryKate On/Off, liquid toilet bowl cleaner, and others. I have vinegar and LimeOut, so I tried those. I couldn't see that they did any good at all. The LimeOut foamed a little bit, and I'm sure the barnacles didn't like it, but it didn't make getting them off any easier. I guess scraping and elbow grease will be my method. This is going to take a while.
                  Late in the afternoon there was a wind shift from east to the south and I realized that the boat had swung far enough on the anchor chain that I was now aground on at the sand near the tiny island I'm near. I had thought that the anchor location that I had chosen would keep me off the bottom, even if I swung on a wind shift. Obviously I was wrong. I believed the bottom drops off fairly quickly at the edge of the bar, so I pulled in about 15 feet of chain. Not enough. I pulled in about another 15 feet. Still not enough. I kept pulling in chain until I was finally free, but then I didn't have enough scope out to hold the boat safely in a squall, so I decided I'd better reset my anchor in a different spot. Leon Moyer, a fellow that I am anchored near happened by, so I invited him aboard to steer my boat while I raised and lowered the anchor. Perhaps not necessary, but a lot easier than doing it by myself, especially since I have the awning over the foredeck, which slows me down getting from the bow to the cockpit. About 9pm, I decided I'd better start up the little Honda generator and run it for awhile to charge the house batteries. They had about 59% of their energy left, but that meant that sometime during the night, the refrigeration would finally draw them down to below 50%, which isn't good for them. I ran it for about an hour and a half, bringing the batteries up to about a 95% charge while I had dinner and read some articles in "BoatUS Magazine".

Wednesday, 27 July - I got serious about scraping the bottom of the dinghy this morning and had been at it for about 3 hours when Leon Moyer came over with a garden tool he uses as a scraper. I'd been using my hand scraper with a 4" wide blade and short handle, and his has an 8" blade on a 5 foot handle. That speeded this project up a bit, but it's still going to take a while. Half the paint is coming off the hull and I'm sure it's not good for the hypalon tubes either, but I have to get the barnacles off somehow. I'm sure the hull will need a new paint job, too.
                  I'm on a lunch break, so I think I'll get this sent out before I get started on the dinghy again. I wish I had some new photos to post, but after 6 weeks and $13,000 worth of work, Island Time, for all outward appearances still looks the same. I hope to take her out for a spin tomorrow.

            Until next time.
                        "Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!" - Hunter S. Thompson

                                          Rick