A look at the things I like and don’t like about my new car.

Earlier this month, I blogged about buying my new Toyota RAV4 Plugin Hybrid. It was a (typically) long post that covered a lot of my thinking about buying a new car and, specifically, a plugin hybrid, to eventually replace two of the vehicles in my “fleet.”

The Decision

To recap the decision making process, I was interested in four things:

• A practical car that would serve me (likely) for the rest of my life. (I keep cars forever — or so it seems.) I needed something that was comfortable, could seat 4 people, and could carry stuff. It also needed to be able to handle the two miles of gravel road I live on, which is sometimes very washboarded, and foul weather.
• A fuel efficient car that would get good local and long distance fuel economy. These days, hybrids were the best option for that.
• A car that could take advantage of the cheap power where I live. That meant plugging in while at home.
• A reliable car built by a company with a good reputation and dealerships able to service it all over the country. That meant avoiding weird new manufacturers. I want a trouble-free car ownership experience.

Despite the low electricity costs where I live, I was not interested in a full-on EV because I was not interested in planning road trips around charging facilities and charging times. You might have an EV that you love and don’t think charging on a long trip is a big deal. That’s nice for you. I’m simply not interested in trying.

(I do want to mention that if someone sold a super small, no-frills EV, maybe just two seats with enough room in back to stow groceries, and priced that sucker under $10,000, I would consider it for a local-only car.)

I didn’t do much research. I’ll admit it. I knew Toyota’s reputation and I knew they’d been making hybrids for nearly 20 years. I thought about a plugin Prius, but it didn’t meet the practicality requirement. Everyone was talking about RAV4s and when I tried one on, it fit. So that’s what I bought.

The Woodland trim I went with has additional rugged road features that makes it even more practical for my life. I don’t have to worry about breaking it if I go on a rough road.

I made the decision, I started my search, I waited, and I picked up the car. All that’s covered in my earlier post about buying the car.

The Drive Home

I would make this post a lot longer than it needs to be if I went into a lot of detail about my drive home from Boise, which I did as a scenic road trip over three days. All I have to say is that the car performed exactly like you’d expect a brand new car to perform: flawlessly. It was comfortable, the air conditioning worked well in excessive heat, and the Apple CarPlay feature was something I’d been pining for for years, enabling me to follow a map on a big screen while listening to audiobooks and podcasts through the car’s speakers.

I stopped at Hell’s Canyon Overlook on my way home from Boise. The haze is due to wildfires in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. I’m sure the smoke got worse after that.

Understand that my newest vehicle up to that point is a 2012 Ford Truck. Although it has some nice features in its Lariat trim, it’s nothing like what’s available in a mid-range car built 14 years later. My only experiences with many of the car’s new features were in cars I’d rented throughout the years. Some were great, others were okay, and a handful were simply annoying. (More on that in a moment.) The point is, there are lots of new features in new cars and it was fun to explore them.

One thing I want to point out, though, is the fuel efficiency. When I left the dealer showroom, the car’s hybrid motor battery had just 6% power available. The fuel tank was full, but the battery was nearly empty. The sales guy, Troy, told me that they had just begun carrying plugin hybrids and weren’t set up to charge them. Of course, the batteries were not fully charged during shipping. So although they could top off the gas tank, they could not top off the battery.

(Personally, I think this is a pretty lame excuse. After all, you don’t need a special charging station to charge plugin hybrids. More on that in a moment, too.)

The car has a battery display that indicates the battery level. It didn’t take long for it to go from 6% to 0%, but it built back up when I went down long or steep hills. Unlike a regular car, where you throw away energy when you use the brakes, a hybrid takes that energy and stores it in the battery for later use. This totally changes the way I drive. I am accustomed to using the brakes as little as possible to avoid throwing that power away, often getting to the top of a hill at a slower speed, knowing I’ll pick up speed on the way down. (This is especially true in my truck.) Now it seems to make more sense to try to keep a constant speed since braking is turned into useable power.

Although there was nothing stopping me from charging the battery along the way, it simply was not convenient to do so so I didn’t bother. That was the point of having the hybrid, no?

Anyway, I did 459 miles before refueling for the first time in Walla Walla WA. I took on a total of nearly 11 gallons. The math says I got just over 41 miles per gallon. Not bad.

At Home and Local Driving

At home, I backed it into the garage bay recently occupied by my Jeep. (The Jeep is now where my truck used to live while my truck is in the RV garage with my slide-in camper in its bed. My garage will always have enough room for all of my vehicles and trailers.) It was a tight fit — or at it least seemed so. I needed to get used to using the cameras to get the car in straight; I’m much better doing it now. (I always back my cars in.)

My most recent parking job. I never seem to get it truly centered because of have to navigate around my trash and recycle bins. (I’m thinking I should paint that back wall in the garage.)

After unwinding from my trip, I took out the charging cable, plugged it into the wall, and plugged it into the charging port. The charger that comes with the car works with a standard wall outlet. I have a 20 amp socket just inside the door to the house so that’s where I plugged it in. The cable was just long enough to reach the port on the car which is forward of the driver’s seat, over the front driver’s side wheel. The car makes some unusual clicking sounds when you first plug it in.

There are two little doors that look like fuel tank covers on the driver’s side of the car. The one up front is for the charging cable. The cable just reaches with the car backed in.

There was some confusion over the first day or two about a charging schedule. I’m still not sure if it was set up right and my changes messed it up. The car has an app (if you can believe that) and it was preset with a charging schedule that set charging times. The idea is that in lots of places power rates change based on the time of day. (I remember that being the case when I lived in Arizona; power was cheaper at night.) But that’s not the case here. My power is cheap — 2.8¢/kWh as I write this — all the time at residential usage levels. Anyway, at first it wasn’t charging. I made some adjustments to get the charger going.

I won’t lie: it took a long time. 12 hours to 74%. That’s as far as it got before I had to use the car. I set it into Eco mode, where it prefers EV driving over regular hybrid driving, and went into town. 21 miles round trip took it down to 42%. Then 12 hours (overnight) of charging to get it to 100%.

Now I’ve got the charging schedule stuff figured out so it charges every time I plug in until its either 100% or I pull the plug. Nine times out of ten, it’s fully charged before the next time I drive it.

As far as power is concerned, the Toyota app shows that, too. I did a prorated calculation from the first three charging sessions shown here. 0% to 74% took 12.062 kWh. Divide that by 74 to get the number of kWh for each 1%: 0.163. Multiply by 100 to get the power for 0% to 100%: 16.3 kWh. Now multiply that by my power rate of 2.8¢/kWh: about 46¢.

So yeah: it costs just 46¢ to fully charge my hybrid car’s battery from 0% to 100% power.

Every time I go into town — a round trip of at least 20 miles, depending on where I go — the power level drops by 35% to 50%. So I’m using, at most, about half the battery power. The gas engine only engages during rapid acceleration in Eco mode — for example, when I turn onto the Malaga Alcoa highway where the speed limit is 50 mph — or when I’m climbing hills. A gauge on the dashboard indicates whether I’m in EV (Eco) or Power (Hybrid) mode. I can moderate how I use the accelerator to keep the car in EV mode, theoretically not using any fuel at all. But honestly, it isn’t worth it.

Because I live at a higher elevation than town, I can get all the way down to Malaga Alcoa Highway — a distance of about 6 miles — and not lose a single bit of battery charge. Still 100% when I get to the bottom of the hill. The trip back up eats up a lot of battery charge, though.

Another indicator tells me how my hybrid miles until empty. I can go into town with that reading 333 (using a recent example) and come home with it reading 332. I drove 20+ miles but it says I only used 1 mile worth of fuel.

This might all sound confusing to you if you’re not a numbers person like I am. I absolutely love these stats. I even keep a logbook in the car to list all the mileage and battery usage info. That’s how I’m able to spit out these numbers for you. They’re in my book.

A Fully Charged Road Trip

I made my first trip to Bellingham in late July. Bellingham is 199 miles from my house. About 1/3 of the trip is on winding mountain roads that cross the Cascades at Stevens Pass. Another 1/3 is on the I-5 freeway. The remaining 1/3 is on regular roads with speed limits ranging from 15 to 60 mph.

I started the trip with 100% battery power and enough remaining hybrid miles to get me there with miles to spare. I set the car to Normal mode. And then I drove as I normally would.

The battery dropped to 0% long before I reached Stevens Pass. I should have noted exactly where; I will on my next drive there. It gained a small amount back on the way down the mountain. And then it pretty much stuck to 0% for the rest of the drive.

I did not note the remaining hybrid miles on arrival but it was low enough that I decided to fuel before coming home a week later. I had driven 516 miles since my last fueling in Walla Walla. I put on 9.4 gallons of fuel, which comes to a very nice 55 mpg average.

So yeah: I’m definitely getting the kind of fuel economy I wanted.

I can do some more math here. I normally took my truck to Bellingham. It gets about 15 mpg when I’m not hauling anything. So I’m looking at roughly 27 gallons of diesel for that round trip drive. The RAV4, at 55 mpg, needs only 7 gallons of fuel for the same trip. That’s a savings of 20 gallons and with fuel prices around $5/gallon these days — remember, I live in Washington state and there’s a war in the mideast (for some reason) — I’m saving $100 on every trip.

Other Charging Stuff to Consider

Reality check here: I’m getting the best fuel economy on short trips where most of the trip is done on EV power. So the average MPG I calculated for my second fill up really takes into consideration the local driving I did between fill ups. If I had topped off the battery in Bellingham somehow — I’m sure there’s a charging station somewhere — I would have gotten better fuel economy. I’m not sure how it would have affected my overall cost, though. What does a charging station cost to use? I have no clue. I do have an adapter that enables me to charge with a Tesla charger; one of these days, if the battery is low or 0% and a charging station is convenient, I’ll give it a try. But I seriously doubt it’ll be anywhere near as cheap as it is at home.

I’d love to see what MPG I can get with local driving only. But if I only drove locally, I’d probably go months before needing to top off the fuel tank. My dealer claimed that he had a customer who only drove her hybrid locally; she drove 1,500 miles before needing to fill up her tank.

As for using a standard wall outlet as opposed to a fast charger I can get installed at my home, it doesn’t bother me how long it takes to charge at home. Remember, all I need is 50% to take advantage of the Eco mode features for short jaunts into town. And I don’t use the car every day anyway. I last drove it on Friday (I’m writing this on Sunday morning); I plugged it in Friday evening at 54% power and it was fully charged before 4 AM the next day. It’s been sitting in the garage, plugged in at 100% since then.

And before I consider a fast charger installation, I need to consider what it would cost me. Likely several hundred dollars for the parts and labor. And that’s if I have room in my electric panel for a 220v circuit (I actually don’t).

Comfort, Convenience, and the Other Stuff

If your brain isn’t fried by all those numbers by now — mine almost is — here’s some info that isn’t related to numbers: the things that make you like or not like a car.

I’ll split these into pros and cons. First the pros:

• Fuel economy. I already covered that in excruciating detail. ‘Nuff said.
• Comfort. The car is comfortable. The seats, which are a nice kind of fake leather that isn’t sticky or ugly, adjust all kinds of ways, including a lumbar support. The seats and steering wheel are heated. The climate control can split zones to make a front seat passenger happy. The mirrors adjust perfectly. There’s a moon roof with a shade that I can use to ventilate the car when I park in the sun.

• 
  I found an excellent fast charging USB-C curly cord for my phone. This was before I realized that the shelf had a magnetic charger built in.

  Convenience. There’s a push-button start and stop; I just leave a fob in my pocket or purse. (I admit that took getting used to; none of my other cars have a fob.) The doors automatically lock or unlock with the wave of my hand in front of a door handle. It has single press electric windows for both front seats, up and down. There’s a push button opener and closer for the hatch back. There’s USB-C built in at the dashboard. (There’s even a magnetic charging pad, but I doubt I’ll use it.) And did I mention Apple CarPlay? I had a taste of that in rental cars; to have it in my own car is great! There’s also an AC power outlet in the cargo area — for a cooler, I was told, so I bought one. And the rear seat split and fold down nearly flat.

• Handling. All I can say is wow. This is an SUV, right? Or whatever the hell a crossover is? But it has nice, tight steering and very aggressive acceleration. Not much body roll. Nothing like I expected it to be. It’s not as fun as driving my Honda S2000 — that car is, after all, my Joy Machine — but it’s a hell of a lot better than driving my truck.
• Practicality. It definitely has that covered with the ability to comfortably seat 4 or 5 people and plenty of space in the cargo area. Fold down the seats for just two on board and you’ve got a lot more cargo room. There’s also a roof rack. I’ve already bought a tent that can attach to the back of the car to turn it into a comfortable car camping setup. And it can tow up to 3500 pounds, which is probably more than my Jeep can tow.

There are a few nitpicky cons:

• 
  The color choices available for RAV4 cars as I write this. The website shows a red one but that’s not an option. Go Figure. Mine is Storm Cloud.

  The color. Although I like the color, I wish it wasn’t so dark. It gets nearly as hot in the sun as a black car would be and probably shows exactly the same amount of dust after several drives up and down by road. But other than white, all of the RAV4 Plugin Hybrid colors are dark.

• Excessive “safety” features. Let me start by saying this: I have been driving since I was 16 years old. We’re talking nearly 50 years here. I have a very good record of safety. I know how to drive and I know how to do it without causing accidents. In fact, I’m also a pretty good defensive driver. This car includes all the safety features car designers could possibly have come up with. Cruise control slows down if it thinks I’m getting too close to the car in front of me. The wheel shakes or actually steers the car (!) if I get too close to a lane dividing line. And the one I turned off before reaching my first destination: it monitors the driver’s eyes and beeps with a warning message on the instrument panel if the driver’s eyes aren’t on the road. Yes, these features can, for the most part, be disabled. I can see the attraction of them for people who like machines to think and act for them. I’m not one of those people. Rely on a system and you’re kind of screwed when that system is not available. No thanks.

• 
  The seatbelt extender I use to defeat the seatbelt warning chime when I need to.

  Annoying seatbelt chime. For the record, I wear my seatbelt when driving the car on a road. I don’t wear it in my driveway, in parking lots (especially when backing up), or on slow speed rough roads. I don’t need an annoying chime to tell me to put it on. I am an adult. I turned off this chime on my Ford truck and my other two vehicles are too old to have the chime — they just have lights. The local dealer refused to disable it for me. So I went out and bought a seatbelt extender like the kind my Dad had in his Mustang. Leave that buckled in and buckle the seatbelt into it when you’re ready to buckle up. (Highly recommended.)

• Overall appearance. Let’s face it: it looks like half the freaking cars on the road. I’ve already tried to get into the wrong car twice. I’m not used to having such an ordinary looking vehicle. It’s attractive enough, but … yawn. Good thing I plan on keeping the Honda forever, too.

The drawback of having a dark colored car on a gravel road is that no matter where you wash it, it always has dust on it after a drive. Here it is after the first time I hosed the dust off. Damn hard water left spots.

Overall Conclusions

Despite my nitpicking, I love the car. I can’t imagine anything else meeting my needs so well for the same price.

And I’m very glad I didn’t wait to buy it.

I buy a new car a lot sooner than I expect to because — well, why not?

For a single person living alone with no kids, I have a lot of cars. I occasionally refer to them as my fleet.

• I have my 1999 Jeep Wrangler, which I bought brand new, beat the crap out of, and use as my local around-town vehicle. It’s in decent shape but wouldn’t win any awards at a car show, despite it’s age. A trailer hitch on the front makes it the perfect vehicle for shuffling around trailers in the garage or driveway.


My Jeep in its younger days, crawling over rocks in Sedona AZ. It’s on its third soft top now.

• I have my 2003 Honda S2000, which I bought brand new and took good care of. It’s my Joy Machine and makes me happy every time I drive it. It’s fast with tight steering and good brakes. The convertible top makes it almost as good as a motorcycle for feeling the air around me — but no helmet required! It’s impractical as a vehicle, but has decent fuel efficiency and is oh so fun. I use if on road trips when I don’t need to carry a lot of luggage, as well as on day trips up into the mountains.


I can’t imagine any car being more fun to drive than my Honda S2000.

• I have my 2012 Ford F35 SuperDuty Diesel Crew Cab with an 8-foot bed, which I bought in 2015. It’s my workhorse and I use it to haul just about anything that needs hauling: building or garden supplies, my slide-in truck camper, and my (oversize load) boat. I also used it on my trips to and from the marina in Bellingham where my boat lives, mostly because it can haul all the stuff I need to drag along with me when I go out on my boat.


My boat weighs 13,000 pounds on its trailer. Good thing my truck can tow 16,000 pounds.

Each vehicle is different. Each has its pros and cons. If I had to get rid of one of them, I’d have a hard time choosing because they each do different things for me.

They’re also each paid for in full and have their own space in my larger-than-average — okay, humungous — garage. Cheap to keep, easy to take care of. Always ready when I need them.

I Want a New Car

But I’ve been wanting a new car for a while. Remember, the last new-to-me vehicle I bought was my truck, 11 years ago. Before that, it was my Honda, 22 years ago. Sheesh.

It would be nice to buy something more fuel efficient, possibly to take advantage of the cheap power where I live. Electric would be nice, but not on a road trip. Hybrid would be nice for a road trip, but it wouldn’t really take advantage of the cheap power at home. The answer was, of course, a plug-in hybrid. Something I can keep plugged in when not in use and then use for virtually free local driving and more fuel efficient road trips.

And wouldn’t it be nice to have a vehicle with all the new bells and whistles I’d experienced in new rentals cars over the years? All those cameras and Apple Car Play?

I certainly did not need a fourth car. And I couldn’t get rid of any of the ones I have because they each do their own special things for me. So I figured I’d wait until I started downsizing. The truck wouldn’t be needed when I sold the boat; I’d sell the slide-in truck camper with it. The Jeep wouldn’t be needed when I got rid of my utility trailer and the boat trailer. When I sold those, I’d buy a nice plug-in hybrid SUV or “crossover” vehicle to replace them. Then I’d be down to just two cars, like a more normal person.

That was the plan, anyway.

In early June, as I steered my truck through the mountains on the long drive back from Bellingham, I started questioning this plan. I wasn’t getting any younger. Why should I wait? It’s not as if I’d get a big windfall from the sale of a 27+ year old Jeep and a truck with nearly 200,000 miles on it. I was turning 65 at the end of the month. Didn’t I deserve a big birthday present for such a big birthday? And why shouldn’t I have a new car while I was young enough to enjoy it?

And wasn’t my boat named Do It Now for a reason?

So just like that, I decided to buy myself a new car for my birthday.

Choosing the Car

I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t do much research. Most of the folks I spoke to raved about the Toyota RAV4, which was now available as a plugin hybrid. Toyota is the maker of one of the first hybrid cars out there: the Prius, which they first sold in December 1997. They still made and sold that car and I suspected that they’d learned a lot in the nearly 20 years since its first release. Everything I read and saw online in car guy videos confirmed this.

So I went to look at one, all ready to buy. The local Toyota dealer only had one on the lot and it was sold. But I got to see it and sit inside. It met my needs as an eventual replacement for the truck and Jeep as far as practicality was concerned. It even had limited towing capabilities. I could keep the Honda for fun and use this as my every day car.

The local dealer didn’t seem to understand that I was ready to buy the car. He kept saying I should think it over and get back to him. Instead, I asked when more were coming in. I told him I was ready to buy. It’s a shame (for him) that he didn’t have one to sell me. This was early on in my limited research and I didn’t know much about the various “trims” they sold. I probably would have bought the first one he offered me. But there was a list and he put me on it. The car was in high demand. It might be a few weeks.

In the meantime, I did a bit more homework and decided that I wanted the Woodland trim. This was a middle-range trim with some good rough road features. There was even a video on YouTube of a guy taking one “off road.” I told him I’d take any color except white, black, or green. (That left a shade of blue and a shade of dark gray.)

Waiting for the Car

And then I waited. For more than a week, nothing. I called to see if anything was coming in and he said there was but they were already spoken for. I reminded him I was ready to buy.

I sold 100 shares of Apple stock for a generous downpayment and put the money in my savings account.

After that, every once in a while he’d text me about cars coming in that did not match my criteria. The first was a low-end SE model. Another was a white Woodland. And then there was the XSE model that he said was very rare and he’d have to charge a $5k premium for it. I didn’t want it and now he was pissing me off.

So I started working the phones. I talked to Toyota dealers in Washington, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, and Oregon. A few said they only sold locally, which honestly made no sense to me. Wouldn’t they rather sell the car to someone out of the area so they wouldn’t have to deal with warranty service and repairs? Some made promises and started sending me info about what was coming in. One guy even called on his private cell phone because he claimed they were required to sell locally but he was willing to make an exception for me.

WTF?

Eventually, I struck a deal with Troy in Boise. He managed to find the car in inventory being prepped for shipping to the US. Did I want it? Blue Toyota RAV4 Plugin Hybrid with moon roof. Yes. Sign this contract and send a $2K deposit. I did.

That was in late June. The car would be ready sometime between July 5 and August 11.

Life went on. My friend Janet came to stay with me for about two weeks at the end of June and into July. We camped with the truck and camper in the North Cascades and then took the boat out around the San Juan Islands and into Canada for 10 days. The local Toyota dealer kept texting me about cars that didn’t match my criteria.

Then I got a date from Troy. The car would be ready on July 13.

The timing couldn’t be better. I would be back from my boat trip and had a full two weeks before my next boat trip. (Long story there.) Plenty of time to get out to Boise and have a nice, leisurely road trip back. We set the pickup date for July 14, exactly two weeks after my 65th birthday.

Picking Up the Car

One of the things few people know about me is that I am a logistics whiz. I quickly determined that the quickest and easiest way for me to get from the Wenatchee area to Boise ID was to rent a car. I got a one-way car rental out of Wenatchee with Enterprise, left my pups with a neighbor, and headed out early in the morning of July 12. By 5 PM local time, I was checking into a nice hotel about a mile from the car dealer.

The next morning, I dropped off my luggage at the dealer, returned the rental car, and made the short walk back to the dealer. By then, my car was out in front of the building.

Troy took this photo of me with my new car before I’d even sat inside it. The funny thing is that I wore that shirt to match the car, thinking the color was the light blue in the shirt. It turned out to match the dark blue in the shirt. The other color was weird, but I was mentally prepped for it. This color is a lot more normal and although I like it, I’m not sure if normal is a good thing for me.

Then there was the paperwork. There was a lot of it. Payment was made more complicated because Toyota Financing’s systems were down and, for some reason, my transfer of $30K from my savings to checking account was delayed. Finally, things were settled. I did buy the 10 year extended warranty — remember, this is probably the last car I’ll ever buy. They got me a good loan rate because my credit score is “exceptional.” By 1 PM, I had all my stuff loaded into the car, shook hands with Troy, and drove out of the lot.

Since Then

That was just over a month ago. I did a 3-day road trip through central Idaho and into the Hells Canyon area before coming home. The car drove great. It was comfortable and had a lot of features. In many ways, it’s a computer with a car attached. I learned a lot about it on that long drive and have learned a lot since.

I stopped at a riverside parking area to eat the lunch I bought at a supermarket after leaving the dealer. From here, I drove up to McCall ID, a place I last visited in 2005 in my Honda.

But this blog post is already long enough. I’ll have to write another one with my observations.

I’ll just say one thing for now: I’m glad I didn’t wait.

After a few busy, stressful months, I finally enjoy a few stress free days on my boat and reflect on how pleasant it is to just relax.

I’ve had a pretty busy few months this year.

February

After a nice two week stay at the Holtville Hot Springs in my camper, with visits to the tubs at least once a day, I started the long drive home. It had been a very mild winter in central Washington State and there wasn’t any snow on the ground. In fact, my housesitter reported that things were already starting to green up. In mid February.

So I headed home, with an overnight stop at Death Valley — where the superbloom would not peak for at least two weeks — and some town on the Idaho/Oregon border that I can barely remember. I was traveling heavy, towing my utility trailer behind the truck with the camper on it. I was 56 miles from home when a tire on that trailer blew out, delaying my return by about 90 minutes while I waited for Good Sam to change the tire. (Yes, I know how to change a tire, but I’m not going to do it myself if I’ve already paid for roadside assistance that would do it for me.)

The superbloom was just starting in Death Valley when I drove through.

Of course, we had a heavy snowfall just a few days after my return. I managed to get everything in my big garage beside the boat, which was hogging up a lot of space. The snow mostly melted and the relatively warm weather returned. I got some stuff done, but not enough. I had been road weary — as I normally get at the end of my winter travels — and just wanted to bask in the comfort of my home.

But that wasn’t going to happen. I got a sort of emergency call from a woman who needed to move her Mainship 32 from Fort Myers to Cocoa, FL. Her husband was recovering from an illness and the boat needed to be moved. She didn’t feel comfortable doing it with a male captain and I was the first female captain who returned her call. I was on a plane to Fort Myers the next day. The job took a week; during that time I lived with a stranger on a relatively small boat. (Okay, so it’s bigger than mine, but mine is relatively small, too.) I’ve been living alone for about 13 years now and it is totally exhausting for me to spend just about every waking moment of my day with someone else. So after a week of that, I was glad to get back home.

I’ve never seen as many alligators as I saw along the edge of Lake Okeechobee in February.

March

I did some work on the boat — mostly cleaning the anchor locker and re-marking the rode before putting it all away. I’d planned to apply PropSpeed to the prop but soon realized that it was beyond my capabilities. A weather window opened and I towed it back across the mountains. The boatyard lifted it off the trailer and blocked it. While I worked on some basic cleaning tasks, they put me in the queue for PropSpeed, a trailer rash hull repair, and a bottom paint job. And hull detailing, which I honestly think was too expensive for the quality of work provided.

I spent a lot of the time — no, too much of the time — trying to document my stay on the hard in videos for my YouTube channel. I’m telling you, recording and editing video isn’t difficult, but it is a chore. It’s no wonder YouTube is being overrun with AI Slop; it just isn’t worth it to put in the time and effort to create original content.

In all, I was there for 11 days.

The boat was finally launched and after dumping the waste tank and topping off the fuel, I put it back in its slip at the marina. I went home for a few days to take care of things there — mostly in the yard and garden — and get a case of trigger thumb treated by a hand specialist in town.

April

I met with the local Medicare expert, Suzie, and learned, to my delight, that medicare would start a full month earlier than I expected for me. Being able to skip my June health insurance payment was like getting $950 put into my pocket. Best of all, it looks like my out-of-pocket medicare expenses will be under $300. That was some good news.

Then it was back to the boat — did I mention it’s a four-hour drive? — for three more days. I had to pick up the plastic panels a local canvas guy had made to order for my boat’s cockpit screened in room. I installed all that canvas and plastic and when the rain started, I was very happy to have it. It really expands my all-weather living space. Of course, all that canvas and plastic will need to come back off the boat when I turn it over to the charter company for the season; I suspect it would be ruined by charter guests pulling it off and rolling it up carelessly.

I got a chance to go sailing on a 42-foot boat in the rain in 18 mph wind. I would have been a nervous wreck if it weren’t for the fact that my three companions were seasoned sailing instructors. I did get a nasty chill, though, and worried that it would have me sick three days later. (It didn’t. Maybe those vitamins I take now do help?) There was an owner and instructor party and I was prepared to go with an early departure, but they had to-go boxes so I made my dinner and headed out very early. I was home by 7 PM.

The next day, I was on a flight to Seattle to catch a redeye to Orlando. I got about two hours of sleep on the flight — seriously, what was I thinking picking a redeye? — and was picked up at 6:30 AM by my client, the same woman I’d helped take her Mainship 32 from Fort Myers to Cocoa in February. This time, I’d be with her 10 days and we’d take the boat all the way to Savannah, GA. We had amazing weather and because she pushed us hard to get to Savannah early, I wound up with a day to wander around Savannah, which I hadn’t done since passing through there on the Great Loop for the third time in Spring 2024.

Then it was back home, where the biggest chore was mowing my tiny lawn (three times) and making sure the irrigation worked properly. Then back to the boat, this time with the dinghy loaded into the back of my truck. I’d had to repair a panel on the transom, which is why I hadn’t brought it with the boat in March.

I had a hectic day of chores to get the boat prepped for a training client. I wound up spending another four days with him, cruising the San Juans so he could learn how to drive, navigate, dock, anchor, and moor. We managed to get a hike in on Sucia Island and I let him explore on his own at Roche Harbor. By that time, I was completely exhausted. Although he was a great guy and I enjoyed his company, I admit to being glad when he got off the boat in Bellingham and I was alone again. (I did mention how much I enjoy being alone, didn’t I?)

We anchored in Echo Bay at Sucia. Do you know how many times I anchored there in less than perfect weather before I realized you could see Mount Baker from there on a clear day? We had great weather for our whole trip.

The Joy of Rest, Relaxation, and Solitude

And that brings us to yesterday which was a Wednesday. After a quick sea trial with my mechanic to show her a steering issue that we hope is caused by air in the hydraulic steering lines, a stop at Trader Joe’s for groceries, and another quick stop at Walmart to pick up some bottled spring water, I found myself with nothing that I had to do. I couldn’t go home because I had to attend the Bellingham Yacht Club season opening event on Saturday, with lots of food and a swap meet where I hoped to sell off some extra equipment I didn’t need. While I could stay at the dock, why would I want to do that? Wasn’t 10 days on the hard in March dull enough? So I headed out with my pups.

I wound up in Inati Bay on Lummi Island. The anchorage was empty for the first time I’d ever come there. I think more folks were at the new Smuggler’s Cove mooring field farther up the coast of Lummi. Fine with me.

I spent the afternoon just relaxing. I napped, read, did puzzles, snacked. I watched a great blue heron fly around, squawking loudly as it was chased by two juvenile bald eagles. I took my dogs to shore. I made dinner and ate. I flew my drone to take photos of the boat at anchor.

Afternoon at Inati Bay.

This morning, I woke up before dawn (as usual) and watched the sky brighten. I saw first light touch the rocks on the shore nearby, illuminating a waterfall I hadn’t noticed the day before. I watched a sea otter swim around slowly, then disappear under the water. I heard a harried heron in the near distance. I saw gulls flying around as if looking for the perfect place to land before settling down on the glassy smooth water.

First light at Inati Bay. Can you see the little waterfall in this photo?

I enjoyed the silence and solitude.

I felt a surge of happiness I feel occasionally, but not often enough. I think it requires me to stop doing and just sit back and get in tune with my surroundings. It made me want to share this thought with you.

So I’m blogging about it.

Because yes, it’s difficult for me to truly relax.

But besides that, I really wanted to share this moment. The feeling of joy you can get when you go to a special place, put down your phone, shut the hell up, and pay attention to what’s around you.

Today and Tomorrow

The plan for today is to head over to Vendovi Island for a hike in the preserve there. (I hope I can bring my dogs.) Then, after lunch, I’ll head down to La Connor for the night. It’s a cute town I breezed through once; I’d like to really explore it this time.

Tomorrow, Friday, I’ll head back to Bellingham where I have things to do again.

But I admit that I’m looking forward to a lot more days on the water this summer, with no plans and the ability to really soak up the peace and quiet some of these anchorages offer.

My experiences with a meal kit service.

This winter, I spent some time with my friends Jan and Tiff in their Arizona home. I’ve known them since 2013 when I swapped my old golf cart for a towable helicopter landing platform. Back then, they owned a helicopter flight school in Mesa AZ. I got to be good friends with them and their partner, Woody. In those days, Jan and Woody were airline pilots for America West, which was eventually gobbled up and merged into US Air. Now they’re both retired and still living in Arizona. They sold the flight school a few years ago.

Enter Tovala

Anyway, neither Jan or Tiff cook so they basically eat out or order in all the time. I’ve become used to it when I visit with them and often pick up the tab (when I’m fast enough) when we eat out. But this time was a little different. I noticed that they had a fancy toaster oven on their countertop. Long story short: they’d signed up for a meal kit program and the oven had come with it.

The program is called Tovala and it’s absolutely perfect for anyone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t want to cook. You sign up and get the oven, which is a smart device (more on that in a moment). You commit to a certain number of meals per week — the minimum is 4 — and they come once a week in an insulated box full of little meal boxes, often with meat or fish in a vacuum-sealed pouch. Everything is fresh and the quality seems to be good. At mealtime, you open a little box, follow the instructions on the card to put meal components into aluminum foil trays, pop the trays in the oven, scan a QR code on the card, and push the oven’s start button. It’s automatically programmed to cook the meal for you, usually in oven mode. (The oven can also toast, broil, and air fry.) When it’s done, you plate it up, add provided sauces and/or toppings, and eat it.

Here’s an unboxed Tovala meal. Everything comes in the tan box. Take the plastic off the trays, put them in the oven, scan the code, and the oven cooks it. Some meals do require a bit of assembly before cooking, but it’s all so easy a 5 year old could do it.

It’s absolutely idiot-proof, making it possible for someone who can’t cook to get a hot meal at home without ordering out. This is perfect for Jan and Tiff, mostly because Tovala meals tend to be healthier than restaurant or takeout food. (More on that in a moment, too.)

Worth a Try

I’m the opposite of Jan and Tiff when it comes to meals. I know how to cook and I can do it pretty well when I want to. I actually like to cook — sometimes. But I also like to have a wide variety of food and don’t necessarily want to track down recipes, shop for ingredients, and then make a whole recipe for my one-person household. Yes, I do it once in a while and I normally eat leftovers the next day and then vacuum seal and freeze additional portions. But I also have a busy life and cooking can become a chore. So I eat a lot of what I’ve put in the freezer or make meals of almond butter or avocado on crackers, or ramen with veggies, or even store bought or frozen prepared foods. It’s just not good for me in so many ways.

I thought Tovala might give me the variety I crave without the effort of making it myself or the cost/bother of going out to eat. (Understand that I live 10 miles from town and no one delivers up here.) I did the math and the price wasn’t outrageous. 4 meals a week cost about $65, which is $16-$17 per meal. I’d spend at least that if I went out, and I’d still have at least 20 miles of driving to get into town and back.

And yes, I know I can eat a lot cheaper with groceries. I’m not an idiot. I can and often do prepare a good balanced meal based around a normal meat or fish protein for under $10. But I considered this a treat and, if I could, I’d just get two or three meals a week from Tovala.

Observations

I’ve had four weeks of deliveries so far.

The first week was pretty much a loss; the food arrived on Friday and by Saturday morning I was on my way to Florida for a boat captain gig for a week. I left the food for my housesitter who was not impressed.

The second and third weeks were pretty good. Everything cooked pretty well with just a scan and the touch of a button and the vegetable or pasta combinations were good. The beef dishes were very good, which surprised me. I quickly discovered that the chicken and fish cook better than the pork, which dries out. The side salads were a sad little joke, barely more than garnish with dressing.

But, in general, the portions were good and the food was definitely fresh. I could always eat more — but then again, if I like something enough, I could probably eat it until I exploded.

I liked the flavors, which is why I’d signed up. So in that sense, I was satisfied.

But Is it Really a Good Match for Me?

Unfortunately, I came back from Florida realizing that I needed more calorie-conscious meals. (Yes, while I was traveling this winter, I porked up, as usual, and needed to start dieting again to feel more fit.) And what I was facing from Tovala were extremely tasty but not very diet-friendly food.

You see, you need to order (or skip) your meals at least 10 days before you actually get them. For example, the meals I’ll get on Friday, March 27 have to be finalized by Wednesday, March 18. So because I’d ordered tasty comfort food before going on my trip, I faced two weeks of that instead of more calorie conscious choices.

And I’ll be frank: their idea of “calorie smart” is not the same as mine. I expect a lower calorie meal to come in at less than 500 calories, preferably less than 400. (And yes, it’s doable. I made grilled salmon with a salad the other day with a total calorie count of just 170.) I think they’d have to lean heavily on their puny salads to make that happen. I’m capable of grilling or baking a protein with a handful of power greens, some tomatoes, and a tablespoon of dressing, so I don’t need something like that delivered. (Maybe someone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t have time to cook or shop might feel differently. Think Jan and Tiff.)

Of course, once I started tracking calories, I started looking very closely at the nutritional information for the Tovala meals I was eating. Calories were important, but so was sodium and added sugars. And what I was learning was that some Tovala meals were definitely fine-tuned for flavor instead of nutrition. I know that adding a lot of salt and sugar is a restaurant/catering ploy to make their food taste better, but in my mind, a savory entree should have zero added sugar. And come on folks! Stop with the salt. It’s easy to add salt but impossible to remove it.

Going back to the 10 days advance notice, however, this has proved difficult for me, as my calendar is always in flux. Last month’s last minute captain gig is just one example: I got the call on Friday and was on a plane Saturday afternoon. One of the things I like most about my life is its spontaneity — I can decide at any time what I want to do and when I want to do it. Having to lock down whether I get meals 10 days before they arrive means that if I change my plans, I need to either take the meals with me (which is only possible when I have a way to store and cook them) or find someone else to take them for me. That just adds another thing to think about when I make or change plans.

AI Support

I had ordered an egg rolls add-on for one of my meals (before I knew I really wanted to watch my calories) and tried to remove it. I couldn’t figure out how. Neither the app nor the website made it possible to remove just an add-on item. (In hindsight, I suspect I could have removed that entire meal and maybe the add-on would have gone with it. Then I could have re-added the meal. That might have worked.)

I tried technical support chat in the app and my highly specific request was handled by an AI that provided me with links to options that did not apply. When I said I wanted to chat with a person, I was told to enter my email and message. I did. No person joined the chat, but I did get an email response — from an AI. This included instructions to remove the add-on that simply did not work. I tried chat again, told it I wanted a human, and waited. Within about 4 minutes, a human joined the chat. Based on the subsequent chat, I am 98% sure she was human. She resolved the problem by finding the item and removing it for me.

But the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. (No pun intended.) A problem that I struggled with over the course of more than 40 minutes with a ton of frustration could have been quickly resolved if a human had answered the chat in the first place.

I cannot tell you how much I hate dealing with AI systems for technical support or customer service. 90% of the time, these systems cannot resolve my problem. All they do is tell me that the company I’m dealing with cares so little about their customers that they won’t even hire a sufficient human support staff. Instead, my needs are handled by a fucking machine that can’t even get things right.

And if you try to tell me in comments that “this is the future,” let me respond right now: only if you let it. I won’t. Don’t we deserve better when we are paying for a product or service? I know I do. Stop following the rest the herd and say no to AI.

Not For Me

So after four weeks of Tovala meals — two of which are still in my refrigerator — I have decided that Tovala is not for me. Between my fluctuating schedule, my need for more calorie conscious meal choices (that do not rely on a salad I can make better myself), and my absolute hatred of AI-based support, I don’t think I can continue using Tovala on a regular basis. That might change when I get my weight down to where it needs to be or spend more time at home, but for now, no.

Don’t get me wrong. If you’re like Jan and Tiff, can’t be bothered cooking, and are tired of the bother and expense of eating out or ordering in, Tovala might be perfect for you. (If you want to try it, here’s a referral code that’ll get you a free oven.) The food is good and fresh and the meal choices are interesting. And it seriously can’t be any easier to prepare your food.

But I will be getting two more weeks of Tovala food. You see, when you sign up and get the oven for free or at a discount, you agree to buy 6 weeks of meals within 6 months. I have two weeks to go. They’ll likely be in late May because my schedule for April is filling up very quickly. I don’t mind — again, I like the food. And, to be honest, I probably won’t cancel the service entirely. But I’m not sure when I’ll feel comfortable ordering food 10 days in advance.

Day 1 of my effort to keep off social media was a success. Here’s Day 2.

As I reported yesterday, I’ve decided to take a break from social media and put everything I would have posted on Mastodon in a blog post. I’ve come away with two conclusions:

• I did not post as much here as I would have on Mastodon. I’d say what I posted here was about 70% of my usual output and 0% of of what I’d post as a reply to someone else. (You can’t reply to something you don’t see.)
• I post a lot of boring stuff. Sorry.
• I post some interesting stuff. I guess that’s why I have social media followers.
• It was helpful in my effort to stay off social media to post these things here. I hope you don’t mind assisting me in my therapy by seeing these. (You can help even more by commenting.)
• I missed the interaction with other Mastodon users who I genuinely like. I miss them and most of their posts. I miss their reactions to mine.
• In a way, these posts are a compilation of what WordPress calls “asides.” I’ve never used the feature because I didn’t want to put the effort in to display them as I wanted them to display in my blog, with special formatting, etc. I think I was drawn to Twitter back in 2007 because it enabled me to share these short tidbits throughout the day. That’s definitely what drew me to Mastodon as Twitter’s replacement.

I did find myself in social media withdrawal, where I saw or thought something I wanted to share and reached for my phone but then remembered I was off social media and put it down. It’s not quite as easy to step over to the computer and add a social media style post, as I did yesterday and will begin doing shortly today.

Social media apps make it too convenient to participate. No wonder we see so many people with their heads down looking at their phones. I’ve managed to avoid that when I’m with other people, but it’s hard to avoid it when I’m alone, waiting for a meal at a restaurant or just taking a break between other tasks.

Today’s Social Media Posts

Anyway, here are today’s posts, for what they are worth.

Saturday, March 22, 2025 9:16 AM Started my second day without checking social media. Yesterday was not quite as difficult as I thought it would be, but I did miss interaction with my friends there.

Saturday, March 22, 2025 9:20 AM Gorgeous day. Temperatures should get into the 50s, although the wind is supposed to kick up again later. This is our windy season, so that’s no surprise. I’m hoping to finish cleaning the boat’s aft cockpit lockers so I can start loading required equipment and spares back into them. I’ll be taking it to Bellingham on Tuesday.

Saturday, March 22, 2025 9:25 AM The sun is coming through my front windows for the first time this year. That means the sun has moved far enough north to clear the cliffs early enough to shine into the east side of my house. My calendar notes said this would happen next Wednesday, but apparently it was cloudy every day until 3/25 on the year I made the note. (Yes, I track the sun movements in relation to my home.)

Saturday, March 22, 2025 11:18 AM I got about 2 hours of work done on my Great Loop book. Between editing Thursday’s work and adding new text (mostly from my blog), I have a net addition of 3,017 words, which just meets my 3,000 word goal. The sun is out on the boat so it’s time to get some more chores done out there.

Saturday, March 22, 2025 1:28 PM Did some boat cleaning. The cockpit lockers are pretty dirty on the bottom and aren’t coming as clean as I’d like. I hope my work satisfies the charter company. If not, I’m prepared with Kilz and a good outdoor paint roughly the same color as the painted wood locker floors and can do it in Bellingham. 1/2

I took a break to make lunch: a Paleo Mousaka that I really like. The paleo part comes from the “cheese” on top being made with coconut milk, arrowroot flour, and an egg. This is one of my favorite recipes and it freezes well. I make it with lamb, as it should be made. 2/2

Saturday, March 22, 2025 2:05 PM FedEx Ground, which is now delivering to my home perfectly, brought some bookbinding paper I was waiting for. I’ll be using it to create a hand-bound guest book for my boat. I’ll do the printing this afternoon.

Interest Lost

And that’s all I fake posted about yesterday. I know I would have posted more online — I kept very busy yesterday and had a lot to share — but having to sit at my computer to type in the content of a post made it inconvenient. I’d rather get stuff done.

But in the grand scheme of things, does it really matter? Does anyone really care what I have to say?

There’s a guy on Mastodon who posts all the time and doesn’t get much engagement with his posts. Recently, all of his posts have turned into whining complaints about how few likes and boosts he gets and how his follower count has become stagnant. As if he thinks he’s some sort of celebrity or “influencer” that people want to follow closely. He’s not.

And I’m not either. But I know that and accept it.

I’m there for the interaction, but there are so few who people I enjoy interacting with that I’m not sure it’s worthwhile anymore.

And yes, I know I blogged about this back in February. And I know it sounds like I’m whining now. So I’ll stop.

It’s Sunday morning and I’ll put this online and get back to regular blogging this week. Thanks for bearing with me during this experiment.

I decided to take a break from social media and need someplace to put my posts. Here they are.

Yesterday, I realized that because of filtering on my preferred social media account (Mastodon), I was only seeing about 5% of the posts being shared by the people I follow. I’ve been using filters extensively to block out posts that mention most political and controversial topics, and those filters work pretty well. Every once in a while, I need to add a new name or phrase or hashtag, but, for the most part, I’m simply not seeing the “doomscrolling” crap that’s out there. And that’s fine with me.

The trouble is, people aren’t sharing objective news stories nearly as much as they’re sharing opinion pieces or facts that have been cherry-picked to increase outrage. That seems to be the purpose of all of it: enticing outrage from the masses — or at least those on social media. Making people mad so they wear pink hats or boycott giant conglomerates (that don’t even feel the effect of boycotts) or sign an online petition or set Teslas on fire. All useless gestures that don’t do a fucking thing to make the situation any better. (Well, maybe the flaming Teslas do.)

I don’t know about you, but I’m outraged enough. I don’t need to read countless news stories and opinion pieces shared on social media to make angry. I’m about as fucking angry as a person can get.

I get my news from my own sources, which tend to present facts versus opinions, although that’s not to say I won’t browse through a few opinion pieces to make sure my outrage isn’t an overreaction. (It isn’t.) So yes, I do know what’s going on. My head is not in the sand. But I certainly have no need to doomscroll or to be ignored when I urge my fellow Americans — the same folks trying to get us all outraged — to actually do something that might tip the scales.

And that’s what happened yesterday. I saw an “outrage post” in my feed that was one too many. I was already filtering 95% of what should be reaching me and even the unfiltered stuff had more of the same. I was done.

Today’s Social Media Posts

Of course, I can’t just stop posting what’s going on in my day. So I’ll put those posts here instead and they’ll show up on this blog. We’ll see how long I last. I’m shooting for a week, but who knows?

Friday, March 21, 2025 8:25 AM
I won’t be on social media today. The only thing I’ll post — which will actually be posted automatically — is a link to this blog post and perhaps another one I’m planning to write. I hope everyone had a great day.

Friday, March 21, 2025 8:27 AM
Late start to the day, but I have an ambitious to-do list that includes more writing work on my Great Loop book, some boat chores, some house chores, the completion of some earrings I left unfinished, and an afternoon or evening of bookbinding.

Friday, March 21, 2025 8:35 AM
Zoom meeting reminders are a great thing. Without the one I just got in email, I would have completely forgotten about the seminar I signed up for this morning. (In my defense, it was scheduled for noon but I didn’t realize it was noon EDT.)

Friday, March 21, 2025 10:53 AM
I wrote a blog post about the difficulty in getting the right part for my boat’s anchor chain. https://aneclecticmind.com/2025/03/21/my-chain-link-connector-ordeal/

Friday, March 21, 2025 10:53 AM
File this under Idiotic IOT Device for Deep Pocketed Suckers.

Friday, March 21, 2025 2:12 PM
I’ve finally gotten around to setting up an online shop to support my creative efforts through donations and sponsorships. The main reason I did this? I’m prepping to accept pre-orders for autographed copies of my book. You can find the site at: https://aneclecticmind.square.site/

Friday, March 21, 2025 2:16 PM
Raining hard outside right now.

Friday, March 21, 2025 2:52 PM
One of today’s creative projects was creating “wrappers” for the little notebooks I’ve been making as I build my bookbinding skills. I’m using all kinds of papers and some are printed with lines and grids. The wrappers tell potential buyers what’s inside without them having to handle them. I’m hoping to sell these in my jewelry booth at art shows, although I might add them to my personal online shop.

 
Three of my notebooks with the new wrappers on them.

Friday, March 21, 2025 4:23 PM
Finally got those copper spiral hoop earrings done. 5 pairs added to inventory. I make a fine silver version of these earrings, too. You can find all of the earrings I make here: https://mljewelrydesigns.square.site/shop/earrings/26.

Friday, March 21, 2025 6:19 PM
Finally tracked down the link for the video seminar I attended this morning: Mastering Your On-Camera Presence. I really thought it was an excellent seminar. You can see it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fQCgMxGPrw

Friday, March 21, 2025 6:50 PM
The enshittification of search continues. I searched for “mandalorian season 4” and the top result was eBay. And yes, this was Duck Duck Go.

Ad for eBay is the top result for a totally unrelated search.

Friday, March 21, 2025 6:55 PM
That’s it for me today. Again, I hope everyone had a great day. And I’m not fooling myself: I doubt a single person on Mastodon missed me.

Okay, so maybe “ordeal” is a strong word here. “Debacle” might be better.

There’s an old adage that says “A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.” I’m not a huge fan of television, but if I’m not mistaken, there was some sort of came show called Weakest Link that was based on this adage. (Ah, yes. Internet search to the rescue. The Brits did the show first and, as unsurprisingly, the Americans made their own version when it proved successful. I haven’t seen either one.)

My problem at the beginning of this year was that my boat’s anchor had 50 feet of chain and I was told by the powers that be at the charter company that it needed 150 feet of chain. I pointed out that my boat was the smallest one in the fleet and 100 more feet of chain would load 110 pounds of additional weight into my already crowded anchor locker. They then agreed that I only needed to add 50 feet for a total of 100 feet.

I had two ways to do this and each one has its pros and cons:

• I could buy 50 feet of the same kind of chain I already had and link it to the existing chain. This would require a connecting link that relied on rivets to keep closed. Any way I looked at it, that would be the weakest link and a source of constant worry. After all, if that link broke, I’d lose not only the new 50 feet of chain, but also my anchor, which would likely cost hundreds of dollars to replace.
• I could remove the existing chain and add a 100-foot length of new chain. This would eliminate the weakest link problem, but this solution had three drawbacks:
• At $4.68 per foot of chain, the new chain would cost $468 instead of $234.
• I’d have to disconnect the existing chain from the rope rode (easy enough) but then I’d have to reconnect the rope rode to the new chain. That would require rope splicing skills and tools I did not have (but could get).
• I’d be stuck with the original 50 feet of chain, which I could not use and probably could not sell.

Clearly, the connecting link option was better, as long as I could get the right connecting link.

Getting the Link

And that’s where the debacle begins.

Because I have a boat training and charter business now, I qualify for a “Pro” account at West Marine. I lot of folks don’t like West Marine because their prices are high, and I’ll agree that they generally are. But things change when you have a pro account. Suddenly, buying at West Marine is a lot more palatable.

I did my homework. I learned that my boat’s anchor has 5/16 Grade 43 chain. I even got a link to the chain on West Marine from someone on the excellent Tugnuts forum for Ranger Tug owners. So I knew exactly what kind of chain to buy.

Someone else on the forum gave me a link to the connecting link I’d need to buy on West Marine. That same person said that it’s been working great for him, despite the West Marine site saying it wasn’t compatible with a windlass.

So I ordered the chain and the link. Both were supposedly in stock. I ordered a few other things, too.

Or Not

Everything came within 3 days except the connecting link.

So now I had a 55 pound box of chain and no way to connect it to the rest of the chain.

I waited three weeks before contacting West Marine to see what was going on. They said they were working on it.

But the clock was ticking. The boat was now in my driveway and I wanted very badly to get it to Bellingham for some maintenance as soon as possible. Once the boat was in the water, dealing with the chain connection would be a lot more difficult.

Trying Another Source

So I got online to search for the part elsewhere. If the West Marine part arrived first, I’d use it. Otherwise, I should have the part I needed. I found it at another provider called US Stainless. It was a different brand but basically the same thing. It was stainless steel as opposed to galvanized steel. Was that better? I didn’t know or care. I’d be keeping a close eye on its condition every time I pulled in the anchor.

I ordered the part. It arrived within a week.

And Getting the Wrong Part

I prepped to do the chain work, removing the anchor from the existing chain. I opened the little part bag. I immediately knew something was off: the part was too big for my chain. Sure enough, although the bag said 5/16, 3/8 was stamped on the part.

Damn.

I got online and looked for a phone number to call. There wasn’t one. There was an email form, though. I used it. Within 24 hours I got a response with an apology. They said they’d send out the right part immediately, along with return packaging for the one I’d gotten. I was impressed that I didn’t have to return the bad part first.

A week went by. Winter storms put travel restrictions on the mountain pass I had to cross to get my boat to Bellingham. There was no way I was going to drive a 23,000 pound wide load over a mountain pass when there was any possibility of snow or ice anyway. I had time.

Getting the Right Part

The part arrived in a little less than a week. It was the correct part. I installed it and I think I did a good job. I know how to rivet from my silversmithing work, but it’s a heck of a lot harder to work on stainless steel than sterling silver.

I finished up my work on the anchor chain and rode and, with the help of a friend, cranked it all back into my anchor locker. The connecting link went through the windlass without any problems, but that anchor locker sure is full now.

Getting Another Wrong Part

Another week went by. A package arrived from West Marine. Okay, I figured. I’d keep this one as a spare. It wasn’t that expensive, after all.

And then I opened the package. I immediately knew something was off: the part was too small for my chain. Sure enough, it’s only 1/4 inch.

Needless to say, I’m not very impressed with anyone’s handling on this particular part.

I come up with a new goal and a business plan to go with it — and realize that this simply isn’t a good time to take risks.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you should know a little about me, but if you don’t, let me fill you in on what’s important to know for this post.

I’m currently 60-something. I retired from my most recent career as a helicopter pilot in 2023, after selling the helicopter, the charter company, and the cherry drying company in 2022 and 2023. I took the proceeds from those sales and used them to buy a 32-foot “pocket yacht,” which I shipped to Chicago in October 2022. I then spent most of the next two years cruising on that boat, alone and with friends, along the Great Loop. (I blog about that in my Great Loop blog, so if you’re interested, please check it out.)

I finished my Great Loop trip in August 2024 and trailered the boat back to the Seattle area, where I launched it in Puget sound. I then spent most of the next month cruising around there and the Inside Passage before bringing it home and cramming it into my very large garage for the winter.

In those final days on the Loop — keeping in mind that I covered more than 8,000 miles — I realized that the part of the Loop I liked the best was the northern part, say from New York City all the way up to Canada and then west into the Great Lakes. There’s nothing quite like cruising in the lakes, rivers, and canals of New York and Ontario; I felt that I could do it forever.

Here’s Do It Now anchored off Valcour Island in Lake Champlain in June 2024. I could spend a lifetime exploring the waterways of New York and Ontario.

Wouldn’t it be great to do it every summer until my age caught up with me and I was done boating?

Goals

I’m a person of personal goals and finishing the Great Loop left me kind of floundering without one. I also felt weird about being retired — not having anything to do to bring in a few bucks to cover my living expenses. I was living off my retirement savings, waiting a few more years to start collecting social security, and it didn’t look as if running out of money was going to be a problem. (I’m remarkably thrifty about some things.) Although my side gig as a silversmith did bring in some money, it was small change without the potential to get much bigger — unless I was willing to spend five days a week in my studio producing jewelry and a bunch of time finding new markets for my work. I wasn’t.

But when I finished the Loop I felt the inklings of a new goal coming on, a new business endeavor where I could spend eight months of the year cruising northern inland waters and the remaining four months soaking up the sun in Arizona. I’d use my captain’s license to offer one- and two-week cruises to a specific potential market of people, cruising in the waters I wanted to explore while teaching them what I knew about cruising. The money I brought in would cover my cruising expenses, reducing my cost of living and helping me preserve some of those retirement savings.

I’m Going to Need a Bigger Boat

But there was a catch: I needed a bigger boat.

I needed a boat with two full sleeping cabins. My guests would get the good one and I’d take the lesser one, but the lesser one had to be a lot bigger than the lesser one on my current boat. I needed to upsize and I had a few models in mind.

Of course, all of these bigger boat options, although pre-owned, would cost a significant amount of money. I figured I’d get that money by selling my home, which is fully paid for, and my current boat, which has a small loan. (I could go into a long lecture about having a paid-for home, but I won’t do it here.) I figured I’d put all of the boat proceeds and half the home proceeds into a bigger boat and use the rest of my home proceeds to buy a modest place in Tucson. After all, although I love my current home, I don’t like it nearly as much during the four months I’d be taking my annual break from the boat. Surely I wouldn’t miss it.

When I was in Arizona, I looked at homes and land and actually found two different lots that were perfect for me. One would be easier than the other to build on, but I’d still have to build on it. I built my current home, acting as General Contractor while the experts did the stuff requiring experts and I did the rest. Did I have another build in me? I thought maybe I did.

So all this is what was going through my mind when I cut this winter’s trip to Arizona short so I could attend the Seattle Boat Show. I had multiple goals for the show, but the main one was to look at used boats in the marina portion of the show. And I did. I actually found two models that would work perfectly for my new business.

The unfortunate thing was that they cost about 50% more than I was hoping to pay. Oops.

Okay, well maybe I could get a small business loan. I had good credit and could work up a business plan that would pass muster. My number-smart brain — did I mention I have an accounting degree? — went to work considering possibilities to make this happen.

How the Current Political Climate Stopped Me Cold

Meanwhile, the demented old narcissist that half the country thought should be the most powerful man in the world got sworn into office. (Did you notice how he didn’t touch the bible? I think he was afraid he’d burn his hand with the lightning God would send through it.)

And things got pretty weird pretty quick.

I won’t go into a litany of the weird shit the Orange Clown and his South African crony, the Space Karen, have subjected America and the world to. First of all, I couldn’t list it all. I stopped following the news. All I know are the things that have crept through my social media filters, things I’ve heard while I had my head in the sand and my fingers in my ears singing la, la, la, la, la at the top of my lungs.

And even that is enough.

More than enough.

More than enough to tell me that I’d be insane to invest time and money in a new business in this crazy political climate. Tariffs will result in inflation far beyond what we saw over the past few years. Job losses from the shutdown of government offices and the cancelling of grants will put people in dire straits. Another recession, which is definitely possible when the guy making laws by signing executive orders keeps making asinine decisions, will make it highly unlikely that anyone will want to pay me to take them on a cruise. (Unless there’s a chance I can smuggle them into Canada, I guess. If Canada even lets us in.)

More than enough to tell me that I’d be a complete and utter fool to walk away from a paid-for house to build a new one in the kind of economic uncertainty we face, where the price of lumber and building materials could jump 50% — if such materials were available at all. And in a red state? A place where the majority of people think calling the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America is a good thing that proves their cult leader has their best interests at heart? (How are those egg prices doing, my deplorable friends?) And how long before they cut our social security and medicare benefits — the exact thing most Americans in my age group are relying on to take care of them in their old age?

Am I nuts?

No.

So there won’t be a new business in my future. (Well, at least not one beyond the tiny business I started late last year and will talk about elsewhere.) There won’t be cruising in the freshwater lakes, rivers, and canals of New York and Ontario and beyond, at least not in a new-to-me, bigger boat. There won’t be a new house on five acres of desert land in the foothills of the Rincon Mountains near Tucson.

There will just be the financial security and comfort of the home I’m in now, a home I love eight months out of the year. I’ll keep myself busy enough.

And learn to be satisfied without chasing down another goal.

I still have that camper for a winter escape.