Today is our hand over day, as my brother, Geoff, and his family are coming to borrow the boat for a week. Obi had his normal poo walk and then I cooked some breakfast, using up a pack of sausage and some mushrooms with some bread, with some fresh coffee. Then we started cleaning, and packing our clothes ready for the swap, at about this time lucky we found our toilet tank was full.
This week, Romania accused Russia of sending a drone boat loaded with explosives to a vital European natural gas platform in the Black Sea. A Romanian F-16 fighter jet used its cannons to disable the surface drone so that explosive ordnance experts could blow it up safely.
On August 20, the Romanian Coast Guard first spotted the maritime drone a few hundred meters away from the Neptun Deep project’s main drilling platform, where several hundred workers were busy with the platform’s ongoing installation, Defense Minister Radu Miruță said in a Facebook post. The offshore gas project would make Romania the largest gas producer in the European Union once it starts full production in 2027.
To protect the lives of the workers and the offshore gas infrastructure, the Romanian military scrambled two F-16 fighter jets to stop the drone with cannon fire, Miruță said. Army specialists later carried out a controlled detonation, as seen in a Facebook video shared by the defense minister.
© Romanian Ministry of Defense
This morning the Girls and Sonia took Obi for his poo walk and counted 30 boats moored up ahead of us. While they were out I had a luke warm shower and when they returned I baked some part-baked rolls and fried some bacon for some excellent bacon rolls. Then I prepared the boat for our next chug, not sure where we will get to today, but we wanted to stop at Great Hayward to visit the…
Well today it is actually 6 as we have Nick as well, the day started with Nick and the Kids taking Obi for a poo walk along the canal. Obi came back so covered in sticky seeds, Nick must have spend ½ an hour trying to comb them out, Obi enjoyed this, but had to take a break for his breakfast. Nick then went for a run along the canal, while we waited we put the engine on and started the washing…
With the Wolverhampton Lock Flight being only open from 8am to 1pm for the next few days and on Monday it was closing completely due to lack of water, we decided to leave Wolverhampton without much of an explore, but at some point we will be back. But before we could leave we had a few job to do, including checking the engine alternator belts and clearing the rubbish of the prop…
Reform MP Robert Jenrick has tried to whip up further outrage about immigration by doctoring a voice recording, to suggest that Labour’s new immigration minister said she “didn’t care” about stopping small boats.
Jenrick shared a recording that he has now deleted in which Jo White, the new immigration minister, talks about small boats.
In the post, he claimed that White said “I don’t care if we stop the boats”.
In the caption, Jenrick wrote: “Meet the new Immigration Minister. Burnham clearly doesn’t give a stuff about stopping the boats. We need a general election.”
Commenting on Jenrick’s post, White said: “This is an edited audio clip which deliberately and fraudulently misquotes me speaking at a meeting with local residents last year.”
White published the full audio from the constituency meeting in which she said: “I don’t care who will stop the boats, but my number one priority is to stop those boats”.
Despite sharing a recording that White says spreads “a false account” of her words, Jenrick said that her position was “very confused”, adding “she appeared to say with one breath she wants to stop the boats, then with the next breath I don’t care about stopping the boats”.
White has demanded an apology from Reform and called on them to withdraw their false claim. In an interview with TalkTV this morning, Jenrick refused to apologise.
As one poster online wrote: “He’s the first one to cry about “fake news” but can’t even apologise when it’s him spreading misinformation.”
Olivia Barber is a reporter at Left Foot Forward
The post Robert Jenrick accused of spreading doctored voice recording that misquotes Labour MP appeared first on Left Foot Forward: Leading the UK's progressive debate.
For the first time in its history, the US military sent explosive-laden drone boats into combat by attacking an Iranian midget submarine and naval port. The unprecedented use of such kamikaze sea drones by the United States comes nearly a decade after Iranian and Houthi forces first demonstrated such weapons.
The US military shared a video showing three “one-way attack surface drones” exploding after approaching an Iranian midget submarine and ship maintenance facility at Iran’s Bandar Abbas Naval Base on the night of July 12. US Central Command, the US military combat command responsible for Middle East operations, described the strikes in a social media post as the “first time American forces have employed sea drones in combat operations.”
The US drone boats were able to “make a low-speed, uncontested approach” to their targets before exploding, according to USNI News, a news service from the nonprofit US Naval Institute. USNI News also identified one of the targets as an Iranian Ghadir-class midget submarine that was out of the water while being suspended from a gantry.
© US Central Command
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.
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.
I don’t get flats. I get blowouts.
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.
My client’s Mainship was a nice boat that I got to know very well.
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.
Here’s my boat in the driveway in front of my house just before I hooked it up to my truck and towed it to Bellingham. It must have snowed while I was gone, but I don’t remember. It’s all a blur.
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.
I lived on my boat while it was on the hard. The experience is not quite as pleasant as having it in the water.
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.
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.
I used to really enjoy street photography. I did a tiny bit in Savannah.
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.
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.
Pre-dawn light from 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.
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.
Another boating video made especially for folks who don’t hang around in boatyards.
I towed my boat from home to its summer home in Bellingham on Friday. It was a stressful, time-consuming non-event. The road over Stevens Pass was wet, but not icy. A landslide closed the northbound lanes of I-5 just south of my destination, so I had to take a detour with an oversized load in tow.
Fun times!
Anyway, shortly after arrival, they lifted my boat off its trailer and blocked it up in the boatyard. I need a bit of bottom work done so it’ll be on the hard here for about a week. I’ll be living aboard — yes, on blocks — for about 10 days.
As they were working, I used my phone to record the process on video. Here’s that video, edited for length — the process took about an hour — and narrated. I think it’ll give most folks a look at something they’ve never seen in real life.
Here’s the video and description on YouTube:
It’s boating season again in the Pacific Northwest! I’ve towed my boat from its winter home in my garage to its summer home in Bellingham, WA. In this video, I show the process of removing the boat from the trailer with a boat lift and blocking it up in the yard. The whole thing is narrated (and I can’t wait for viewers to comment on all my mistakes). If you’re like me, you’re fascinated by the use of highly specialized equipment and skilled workers to perform tasks that most people have no idea about. Enjoy the video!
Many thanks to the folks at Seaview North for letting me record them at work. I know my boat is in good hands.
And remember, my boat is in a charter program at San Juan Yachting in Bellingham. YOU can take it out for a week on your own or with me as your captain. Visit https://www.SanJuanYachting.com/ for details. Tell them Maria sent you!
—
My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.
Support my blogging and video efforts!
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Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir
I share some narrated video footage of what’s below the waterline on my boat, which is currently parked inside my garage, waiting for a trip across the mountains.
At the end of the boating season, instead of leaving my boat in the water (in a slip I pay for regardless of occupancy), I bring it home for safekeeping. After all, it is trailerable and I have a trailer and truck to move it. I also have a cavernous garage where the boat fits snugly with whatever other stuff I cram in there. This is infinitely better for the boat than leaving it in the water all winter for stuff to grow on the bottom and moisture to grow mold and mildew on canvases. Honestly, how could they expect me to leave my boat there when I have this option?
Having the boat at home before the season also gives me a chance to do some maintenance, especially on the bottom. This year, I’d planned to do some touch-up paint on the bottom, put PropSpeed on the prop, and wash and wax the red painted part of the hull. To that end, I got to work this weekend. And since I think the bottom of my boat is kind of interesting, I made a video of what it looks like before I scraped off the dead sea life.
Here’s that video, along with the description that appears on YouTube.
Description:
Boating season is quickly approaching and I’m prepping my boat to be launched before month end. Right now, the boat is on its trailer in my garage, staying cozy warm and waiting for attention. In this video, I show you what’s under the waterline on the stern of the boat and the kind of work I need to do before launching it. My cat, Rover, makes a special guest appearance.
Keep in mind that my boat is available for charter through San Juan Yachting in Bellingham WA. Take it out for a week in the beautiful San Juan Islands! Or, if you’d like me to take you around for a few days and teach you how to drive a single engine trawler like this, get in touch on my boating blog: https://mygreatloopadventure.com/contact-me/
My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.
Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
– SPONSOR a future video: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir
I am pleasantly surprised that my boat experience and captain’s license are paying off with some fun, often challenging gigs.
A lot of folks criticize me for (or are in awe of) the number of “irons I keep in the fire.” Simply said, I have a lot of interests and when something really strikes my fancy, I dive in headfirst and do what I need to do to become an “expert.”
That’s how teaching myself how to use computers in the early 1990s paid off with a career as a computer how-to book author, speaker, and educator, freeing me, once and for all (at age 29), from the 9 to 5 grind of corporate America.
That’s how learning to fly helicopters and eventually jumping through the hoops required to get a charter (AKA Part 135) certificate got me a third career as a helicopter pilot, which started climbing to its peak in 2012, right around the time people stopped buying computer how-to books.
That’s how accumulating cabochons at rock shows led to making jewelry which led to getting good silversmith training and setting up my own fully-equipped studio and making/selling sterling silver jewelry at art shows. When I sold the helicopter and my two helicopter businesses, I really thought silversmithing would be my fourth career (and first retirement career) and I suppose I can still count it as that.
But I never expected my boating activities to lead to paying gigs on both coasts, bringing in retirement income just as silver prices skyrocketed and the economy led to people not spending much money on things they didn’t need. After a dismal winter art show season in Seattle and the Phoenix area, I’ve pretty much set my silversmithing activities aside to better explore this fifth career as a boat captain.
What started as me musing, back in 2012, whether it was possible to take a boat on a trip from the Intracoastal Waterway near my mom’s old house in St. Augustine all the way up to the Erie Canal, somehow ending in the Mississippi River and looping back to my starting point in Florida, eventually culminated with me doing that trip, the Great Loop, mostly solo in my own boat. I started in Chicago in October 2022 and ended there in August 2024. (I was still working as a pilot in the summer so I couldn’t do the summer part in 2023.)
I’d been boating on and off most of my life. Back in the summer of 2011, I bought a little jet boat. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t fast, but I eventually took it on outings in the Columbia River, Colorado River, and Lake Pleasant (Arizona).
My little jetboat was extremely well travelled. In the winter of 2017/18, I took it south with me to Arizona and beyond. This picture was shot at Capitol Reef National Park in October, when I drove through on my way to a side trip in Colorado.
My life got turned upside down in 2012 and I spent the next few years rebuilding it the way I wanted, with a new home and new priorities. I’ll just say this: life is good when you don’t have anyone holding you back from enjoying it. (‘Nuff said, eh, Jim?)
By 2021, I was thinking about that boat trip again. I found a boat captain doing the trip in his 2017 Ranger Tug R-27 who was looking for two crew members. I signed up for a portion of the trip: 8 weeks from Jersey City to Chicago. It was a mostly great experience, although I did clash with the other crew member and wound up leaving the boat after 5 weeks. We traveled up the Hudson River (where I’d boated with my family as a child) through the Erie Canal, and along Lake Erie and Lake Huron. It was great experience.
I spent five weeks on this Carver with Captain John. Here’s the boat parked at Bald Head Island in North Carolina.
After that trip, I was approached by another boat captain, this time in a 1985 Aft Cabin Carver 35, who was doing the trip at his own pace and needed at least one crew member for at least two weeks. I signed up for 5 weeks, returning home just in time for my summer work. This time we were on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway between Charleston SC and New Bern NC. (John cruised at a much slower pace.) Again, it was great experience.
I was almost ready to buy my own boat, planning to do the Loop at my own pace starting in 2024. I had one more season of summer flying to do with my helicopter and then I planned to sell it. But weird stuff happens and I got an offer I couldn’t refuse for the helicopter in May 2022. I’m not an idiot; I sold it. I wound up leasing a helicopter — long and crazy story there — for my summer work.
But that big fat helicopter payment was eating at me, telling me to buy a boat that summer and start the trip sooner. After putting off looking for most of the summer, I finally succumbed and started a search. I found the right boat in August 2022, made an offer, had it accepted contingent on the survey, got it surveyed, and completed the sale just after Labor Day weekend.
Here I am on the command bridge, locking through somewhere. You can almost see Alyse inside on the starboard side of the boat.
What followed was a bit of training, a bunch of days cruising around Puget Sound, and a trip across the US to Chicago where the trucking company I’d hired launched it. My friend Janet joined me for the first 3 weeks on the Loop. My friend Alyse joined me for the second 3 weeks on the Loop. I did a bunch solo and also did about 60 days with my friend Jason and another 3 days with my friend Cheri. This was all over the course of 22 months, with time home to work when I had to.
Along the way, I stopped in Oriental NC to attend a 7-day OUPV captain course. I got my Captain’s License from the USCG in October 2023. I put that license to work in May 2024 in the Baltimore area on two separate training gigs: 3 days for a brand new boater planning to do the Loop solo starting that summer (!!) in his 2015 Ranger Tug R-29 and 1 day with a couple who had stepped up from a pontoon boat to a really nice (and relatively new) Ranger Tug R-29.
If I had to identify one thing that has helped me stay financially secure doing interesting work throughout my life while retaining a healthy work/life balance, it’s my ability to recognize and take advantage of opportunities that come up as they come up. While many people — including too many I know — will make excuses to support why they can’t do something, I look at what I need to do to make things happen.
So while I was on a flotilla with five other boats (all larger than mine) going to Desolation Sound, and one of the owners of the charter company asked if I’d ever considered training people how to drive boats, I not only said yes but told him I had some experience doing it. (He had been impressed that I docked the boat solo at every stop; basically having the boat tied up before his wife hurried over to help.) And then I took the certification classes required to qualify as an instructor for their company. The following spring, I was teaching for them.
I have to admit that the highly structured classes they were teaching to give students American Boating certification was not what I enjoy doing. It was nice to make money while boating with strangers, some of whom were really great people, but I’m not a fan of teaching to the test, especially when the test covers information not in the course material or really not necessary to know. (I’d offer an example here, but I literally tossed out those old tests two days ago when cleaning out my instructor binder.)
Here I am with my friend Janet last summer at Blake Island in Puget Sound. Janet joined me for my first three weeks on the Great Loop.
I’d prefer to teach just one or two (a couple) people at a time, focusing on what they need to know to be safe boaters and get started building skills. And that’s what I got to do twice on my own boat last summer. I took a future Ranger Tug owner and his friend on an overnight trip in the San Juan Islands where they could see whether the boat would meet their needs; they stayed in an AirBnB on Orcas Island near Deer Harbor. And I took another future Ranger Tug owner who plans to do the Loop on a four day trip in the San Juan Islands, focusing on soloing skills — which is something the training organizations don’t want me to teach for them. I was tickled pink when he picked up a mooring ball by himself on the first try!
Here’s a shot through the windscreen of my client and his friend relaxing on bow seating while we were parked at a marina.
Later that summer, in August, I accompanied a new boater and his friend on his 2024 Antares 11, a twin outboard boat he planned to do the loop in. They had to move the boat from the Florida Panhandle to Jacksonville. We had two weeks to do it and needed almost every day because of engine issues along the way. It was brutally hot and humid in Florida, but the boat had air conditioning in the staterooms so sleeping was tolerable. It wasn’t my favorite Captain gig, but it’s always nice to get out on the water, especially when someone else is picking up the tab.
Fast forward to this year. Things are shaping up nicely. It’s just March and I’ve already done one gig, have two more under contract, and a third penciled in on my calendar. These are all gigs in a client’s boat or in my boat.
In two cases (for the same female client), I got the gig partly because I’m a woman. So that’s a welcome twist.
In the other two cases, the client wants to experience cruising in a Ranger Tug. So although my boat is in a charter program with San Juan Yachting out of Bellingham and used by others when I’m not on board, I have enough time for myself reserved so I can offer a few training cruises in it. I love teaching people how to drive Ranger Tugs, especially in my own boat. I know it so well and am still excited about it, even after 3 1/2 years of ownership. I want to make them excited, too.
And I’m also doing day trips and shorter overnight trips for clients. You can check my boat’s availability calendar here. And, of course, you can charter it for yourself if you meet the charter guest requirements at San Juan Yachting. Or you can charter it and request me as your on-board captain for custom training as you cruise.
The point is, I’m able to do work I love — boating and teaching people how to boat safely — and be paid for it. And I have to admit that the work pays a lot better for the amount of effort than my silversmithing “career,” even though it’s not as creative and personally rewarding. I guess the bottom line is this: doing work as a boat captain pays the bills; doing work as a silversmith/artist pays to do work as a silversmith/artist.
At this point, I’m leaning hard toward towing my boat back to the Great Loop in mid October or November, probably launching it in the St. Louis area. When I did the Loop, I sped through the southern half of the Inland Waterways in December and the trip was not as good as I think it should have been. I want to do it again and then cruise on to the west coast of Florida, perhaps with another stop in the Keys.
Heck, I towed it home from Chicago in August 2024. Why not tow it back to St. Louis in October 2026?
The boat would be available for passengers interested in learning more about the Great Loop or Ranger Tugs. Due to the size of the boat and stateroom limitations, I prefer to take solo cruisers, but I could probably make room for a couple. We’ll see.
What I do beyond that really depends on what plans I can make for Summer 2027. Right now, it’s too early to share my thoughts about that.
I just want to end this post with a quick discussion of skills.
I have built multiple careers — some of them very successful — by learning skills and making those skills available to people willing to pay for them.
I have numerous other skills that serve me well:
I don’t learn skills because I plan to turn them into a career. I learn them because they interest me. But being able to monetize them makes it possible for me earn a living doing the things that interest me. In addition to the ones I’ve covered here, I’m also doing things with bookbinding, leather work, carpentry, photography, sewing, and more. I’m interested in a lot of things so I do a lot of things.
I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: building skills can never be a waste of time. You never know when that skill you’ve been honing because you really enjoy the work might be the skill that turns into a lifeboat if your life goes sideways one day.
I share my less than satisfactory experiences becoming a certified powerboat handling instructor.
I got my OUPV or “six pack” Captains License from the USCG back in 2023. It required me to take a 7-day class, pass four tests, and document 360 days under way on the water. (A day, in case you’re wondering, is at least 4 hours; two 3-hour days does not equal one day and one 9-hour day does not equal two days.)
I think the experience requirement is excellent, although 360 days is quite a bit of time. If you’ve spent 360 days under way on a boat and have been given any responsibilities other than tossing lines to someone on a dock, you probably have what it takes to captain a boat. Or at least that’s the logic behind the requirement.
As a USCG-licensed boat captain, I can do two things that someone without the license can’t legally do:
In other words, I can use my skills, knowledge, and boat to make a little money. My fourth career? (Or fifth? I’m loosing count.) Maybe.
I did my first two training gigs in May 2024 when I was in the Annapolis area on the Great Loop.
The first student was a brand new boater who had purchased a 2015 Ranger Tug R-29 that he planned to take solo on the Great Loop starting in June. He was so new to boating that he was afraid to drive the boat out of its slip — and it was facing out! We worked together for three days and he got better every day. While I would not have signed him off to take my boat out on a charter, he was definitely on his way to becoming a good enough skipper to do the Loop. (His departure was delayed for a while, but he did get started. I’m not sure if he finished; I think some mechanical problems may have stalled him along the way.)
The other students were a couple who bought a newer Ranger Tug R-29. Their experience was in pontoon (or patio, as I call them) boats. This was a big step up. I spent a day with them. The husband was fine but the wife was full of fears that she did not hesitate to vocalize. She had no interest in getting behind the wheel, and that was okay with me. They only had me for a day and time was limited. I was able to get them up to speed on Ranger Tug systems and practice maneuvers that they already knew from previous experience.
I finished the Loop in August 2024 and had the boat back in the Seattle area by September. I had minimal experience cruising in the San Juan Islands and when I saw a two-week flotilla up to Desolation Sound offered by San Juan Yachting (SJY), I called to see if I could join in on my own boat. That’s how I wound up cruising with five larger boats as far up the Inside Passage as the Octopus Islands and back.
I was cruising solo, as I usually do. (While it’s nice to have company on board, it’s hard to find someone willing to split the costs and sleep in the midship berth, affectionally referred to as the Cave.) Every time I followed the other boats into a marina to tie up, the wife of the flotilla leader team would hurry over to my boat to help me tie up. In most cases, this was totally unnecessary; I dock without assistance all the time. Sometimes, by the time she got to my boat, I was already tied up. I think this impressed the flotilla leader because one day, as I was shutting down the engine and chartplotters, he came to my window and asked if I’d ever considered teaching people how to drive boats.
And that’s what started my longer term relationship with SJY.
I need to say right up front that SJY is an excellent organization, extremely professional and focused on providing its charter and training clients the absolute best service they can. Simply said, if you want to charter a boat in the San Juan Islands, look at what SJY has to offer first. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. (And that’s not just because my boat is part of their fleet.)
As for training, they offer an excellent “Learn ‘n’ Cruise” course which puts you on a boat with two or more other people for a learning cruise in the San Juan Islands. This, I discovered, was what I would teach. (I actually taught two classes this spring — one single engine class for three people and one twin engine class for four people. All the students had a great time and I know they learned a lot.)
In all, I was really looking forward to the prospect of being an instructor for SJY. But first I had to get certified.
SJY is the powerboat arm of San Juan Sailing (SJS), which has been around for a very long time. Some time ago, the powers that be at SJS decided that their training classes needed to be able to reward students with certifications. To do that, they had to get involved with an organization that had a certification process. They chose American Sailing (AS), which, like SJS, focused on sailing and sailing education. They would certify instructors and then the instructors who taught for SJS using AS materials could certify students.
When it came to the powerboat side of things, AS had a powerboat arm called the Recreational Powerboating Association (RPBA). As you might imagine, SJY chose that organization to certify its powerboat instructors and provide the materials for instructors to certify students.
To be certified as an instructor for single and twin engine powerboats, I had to attend two days of classes, each of which included some time on board a boat honing skills and practicing teaching each other how to handle the boat in close quarters. Fortunately, classes were coming up in October (this was still 2024) so I signed up. That’s when I got my first surprise: I had to foot the bill for the classes, which were $800+. Ouch. This was on top of the nearly 400-mile round trip drive from my home to Bellingham. I considered myself lucky that SJY allowed me to sleep on one of the charter boats for the two nights I was there or I would have been stuck with a $300 hotel bill, too.
I cannot say enough good things about Powerboat Handling Illustrated by Bob Sweet.
I have no complaints about the classes. There were four students (if I recall) and we all had varying levels of experience. (My experience was mostly in small trawlers; I had zero twin engine time.) The material consisted of a boat handling book I already had (and can highly recommend) and a thin, black and white, spiral bound Student Underway Guide that discussed and illustrated maneuvers.
Classroom time was minimal, we all took and passed the written tests. We spent the afternoons on the boats, a single engine American Tug — the same one I’d been sleeping on — and a twin engine Grand Banks (if I recall correctly). I did fine on the instructor scoring criteria with the exception of not properly giving everyone on board a task while I was teaching the “student.” (I honestly didn’t know that was something I had to do. Oops.)
I went home the day after the second class. Some weeks later, I received three certificates in the mail:
I have no idea what CQPH stands for.
The certificates were white with gold foil trim and a gold embossed seal that had a blue ribbon. Very fancy. I punched holes in them and put them in my training binder. (You didn’t think I’d hang them on the wall, did you?)
As far as I — and SJY — was concerned, I would be ready to start teaching for the 2025 season.
Oh, and maybe you caught the fact that I was officially certified to teach twin-engine inboard power boats when I had less than 90 minutes of total time at the helm of one? That’s certification, for you. Pay the fee, take the class, pass the test, and you’re certified, no matter how much (or little) real life experience you have.
As I mentioned earlier, I taught two classes early in the 2025 season. The single engine class, given in a 47 foot LOA (that’s length overall) trawler, was tough given the windy weather and the fact that the largest boat I’d ever driven for any length of time was mine, with an LOA of just 32 feet. But we did well and I know my three students had a blast. The twin engine class went more smoothly — at least I thought it did. The boat was certainly easier to drive and the weather was better, too.
My first group of students and I, on this big single-engine boat, got along well, had fun learning, and still text to each other about new boating things in our lives. Building new friendships is a perk of teaching.
But sometime around then SJY contacted all the instructors to let them know that RPBA had reorganized into a brand new organization called American Boating (AB) that was still part of the AS organization. As part of the rebranding, they had developed textbooks that our students would have to buy (and so we’d have to buy and have on hand; mine cost $35) and needed to re-issue the certificates.
Alarm bells immediately went off in my head. Was I going to have to cough up another $800? But my fears were unfounded. Because we’d just gotten certificated, all we had to do was study the new material and take an online test for each certificate we needed to update.
I went online as instructed and saw just one option. I went through the video and took the test. I passed. I got a certificate for Power Boating Instructor. It was a much simpler affair on light blue cardstock with black and blue printing and a red and blue logo. No gold foil or ribbon.
Throughout the season, there was a lot of confusion at SJY. They kept referring to certification levels (by number) that I needed to have to teach intermediate and advanced classes. But I didn’t have the certificates and I didn’t see any way to get them.
Apparently, there was a glitch in AB’s system. I don’t know if it was just for me or for everyone — frankly, the whole organization (AB, not SJY) was in disarray, promising things that were never delivered. Finally, just last month, I got a new link and there were the two other tests. After coughing up another $50 for a fatter, advanced textbook full of photos, I took the test.
That’s when I discovered just how bad the book was. You see, it was an open-book test — or at least I assume it was since no one told me otherwise — and I made use of the absolutely horrific index to make sure I had the right answers to the questions. What I learned along the way is that the book was poorly organized, repetitious, and lacked the boat handling details we’d had in the Bob Sweet book. Sure, it was a pretty book with lots of photos of (mostly) Beneteau boats, but as a learning tool it was horrible.
I don’t make these judgements lightly. If you’ve been reading this blog long enough, you know that I wrote computer how-to books for a living for more than 20 years. I know how to organize information logically, presenting it in the order in which readers need to know it. It was obvious to me that the book was written by someone who had either never written a book or knew nothing about outlining, writing to an outline, and then editing a final book. This mess never would have gotten past any of my editors. They would have torn it apart and made me start from scratch. Honestly, until I communicated with two different people who claim to have worked on it, I thought it had been written by an AI. It is that bad.
To give you an idea of just how poorly written/organized the book was, I got a 94% and a 96% on open book tests. I should have gotten 100% on both of them. I have no idea which questions I got wrong, but one of them may have been the one about stowing food in a top-loading refrigerator. I have never been on a powerboat with a top-loading refrigerator — that’s a sailboat thing. This is content they must have pulled right out of their sailing textbook/test. And frankly, should I be wasting time teaching students how to stow their provisions? Isn’t it more important to teach them — and let them get practice — pulling the boat into a slip with a crosswind? Yet I don’t recall any questions about actual boating handling.
About two weeks after taking the tests, I got a hard envelope in the mail from AB. Inside was a letter confirming I have all three certificates:
But the envelope only had the Advanced Power Boating Instructor certificate in it. The Intermediate Instructor certificate was missing.
The letter also referred to an instructor logbook that I’d never received. It included two plastic stickers that I assume I was supposed to stick into the logbook.
I emailed AB, telling them about the missing certificate and logbook.
I got a pretty quick response from the director of the organization. He told me that he’d get someone to look into the certificate. He also said I could get the logbook online and provided a link.
The link did not go to a printable PDF. It went to a $29 + tax + shipping softcover book. A book that I will not buy. (Hell, do you know how much my instructor briefcase already weighs?)
The next day, I got an email from someone at AS. She told me that they only send out the highest level certificate a person earns. If I want a copy of a certificate they hadn’t sent, I could order one from the website. That would cost me $22 including tax and shipping.
So yeah: they expected me to pay $22 for a piece of paper that they could easily have put into the envelope they sent with the Advanced certificate.
It was pretty clear to me that AB was going full money grab on its instructors and members.
Oh yes, I forgot to mention that. I could become an AB member for $59 per year. As a member, I’d get:
In other words, I could spend $59 to save money when I spent more money on AB stuff. No thanks.
Oh, and I forgot to mention one very important thing: even though I’m an AB-certified instructor, I cannot certify my own students. I have to go through a training organization like SJY to do certifications. So these certificates have absolutely no value to me unless I want to train for a company that requires AB certification. Ain’t that a kick in the pants?
Of course, I couldn’t let this go. I was especially angry about the damn certificate. In my mind, it had cost me $800 and a 400-mile round trip drive, $35 for one book and $49 for the other, and the equivalent of four full days of my time (which is the most valuable thing I have these days). And now they wanted to squeeze another $22 out of me to get what I’d earned.
Screw that.
So I wrote to them about my dissatisfaction with the certificate situation and the books. I got a response from the director who seemed offended about the books, claiming “other people praise them” and telling me that he had been part of the team to write them. (Other people have lower standards than I do; I’m not impressed by stock photos sent by Beneteau, who may even have sponsored the books.) He asked me if I still want to teach their curriculum. I spent 45 minutes writing a detailed reply but — and this should impress you as much as it impresses me — I didn’t send it. Instead, I told him that he probably didn’t want to hear what I had to say and asked politely for my missing certificate to be mailed to me.
In the morning, I got an email message from the instructor who had taught the certification classes last year. He’s also an SJY instructor — a nice guy who really knows his stuff. He asked how things were going with my certificate update. I filled him in briefly on the missing certificate and my dissatisfaction with the books.
He wrote back to say that he was also involved in writing the books. That’s when I realized that AB had asked him to get more info from me.
So I gave him everything I’d written in the unsent message. I cc’d the director of training at SJY. I was getting it all off my chest publicly and, frankly, didn’t give a shit what came of it.
After sending that message, I emailed the director of training at SJY to explain myself and tell her that I probably wasn’t going to make myself available to teach in 2026. I also said that if I got her in hot water with AS or AB, she could tell them she fired me. I’m hoping she just leaves it at that.
During my one-on-one solo boating class with a future Ranger Tug owner from North Carolina, I also provided crabbing instructions. He caught eight crabs, four of which were keepers, and we had crab with three of our meals over the next few days. How fun is that?
So I probably won’t teach any more for SJY. But I’ve already interviewed with another organization that doesn’t require certification and they can’t wait for me to start training for them — and possibly even acting as Captain on charter cruises — in the spring. And I have another instructor interview lined up on Monday.
Besides all that, I’ve done three training gigs on my own over the past three months. One was a 2-week boat delivery/training gig in Florida, one was a two-day “try my Ranger Tug” gig in Bellingham, and the other was a 5-day solo operations in a Ranger Tug training gig in Bellingham. Those three gigs paid more than the two I did for SJY. They were also a lot less stressful, since I didn’t have to teach arcane facts just because they would appear on a certification test. (I’m wondering if the refrigerator question is on the new tests.)
I jokingly refer to boat training as my fourth (or fifth) career. It’ll never be that. It’s just something I do to have fun on the water and share what I know with other boaters, while making a few bucks on the side. The requirements of teaching for certification take all the fun out of that.
I ease back into writing for hire.
One of the things I’ve been working on part-time for past few years is getting back into writing articles for publication.
Although I thought I had a working relationship with Waterway Guide, that fizzled out pretty quickly. The publisher was initially excited about working with me and made some suggestions about how much money I might earn writing for them. I did my part to help build content on their site with a never-ending stream of marina and anchorage reviews. (I still get the occasional compliment for my reviews.)
But after months on the Loop, I just got one article assignment — and I never got paid for it. I was very interested in helping to update the Skipper Bob books — especially the one for the Erie Canal — but was told other people were doing it. No other work was forthcoming. So I stopped writing reviews. I’m a professional writer, after all, and I’m not going to go out of my way to build content for a for-profit publication without getting compensation for my work.
Most folks use Dockwa with its app.
I started writing for Dockwa last spring. Dockwa is a company that helps boaters arrange for marina reservations through the use of its easy-to-use app. Some marinas only use Dockwa so it’s a good app to have.
I used it to place a reservation for 10 days in Oriental NC back in 2023 when I had to take a class for my Captain’s license. The reservation was supposed to be refundable, but when I cancelled a month in advance, the marina refused to issue a full refund. Dockwa took care of it for me and I got all of my money back. They also accept payment via Apple Pay, so I’m able to get more cash back with every reservation than if I’d paid with a credit card. So I’m pretty sold on Dockwa.
Dockwa has a blog and some email newsletters of interest to boaters. I was first approached by them because they wanted to link to one of the posts in My Great Loop Adventure blog. Sure, I said. And when the newsletter came out, I got more than 1,000 hits in two days. They’ve since linked to other content there and have really helped me get exposure for the blog.
Then, in September, they asked if I’d write quarterly exclusive content for them to use in their blog. I’d get a byline and link to my blog. That seemed pretty good to me because I’d started writing a book about my Great Loop trip and the blog was going to be my primary promotional tool. The more eyes on it, the better off I’d be. Since then, I’ve written three quarterly articles for them (one of which went long and appeared in two parts) and have just sent in my fourth:
Although I’m not getting paid cash money for any of these, I did get a perk: I’m now a member of Dockwa +, a subscription service that supposedly gets me discounts and access to special offers at marinas. I’ll find out more about it the next time I’m on my boat.
I’m really pleased that I got a chance to write for such a great publication. If you don’t know Passagemaker and you are interested in boats, check it out!
The biggest news is recent. I got into an email discussion with the editor of Passagemaker magazine, which I consider the premiere private boat cruising magazine. It’s a beautiful publication that comes out every two months and features cruising articles and boat reviews, along with informative how-to articles of interest to boat owners. I read it every month via the Libby app, courtesy of my library.
My email discussion with Jeff was about folks who finish the Great Loop but never get on a list of people who’ve finished because they don’t belong to the for-profit organization that keeps the list. Passagemaker published the list and (unsurprisingly) I was not on it, despite having “crossed my wake” in August 2024. That turned to a discussion of solo cruising on the Loop. I was asked if I wanted to write an article about the challenges I faced as a solo Looper and I said yes. I asked about compensation and was offered a very reasonable (if not generous these days) amount of money.
(Looking back at my list of published articles, I realize that the last time I was actually paid for writing an article was back in 2018, when I wrote for Vertical magazine. That was before I cut ties with them after one of their editors went into a jealous rage when she discovered that I’d been asked to co-pilot a Chinook on a fire contract. That’s a long story not worth going into here. Of course, I didn’t write anything for publication between 2018 and 2023, which is when I wrote that unpaid piece for Waterway Guide.)
I wrote the piece and Jeff was pleased. I assume it’ll come out in either the next issue or the one after that. I can’t wait to see it.
Jeff also invited me to be a guest on the Trawler Talk podcast. Passagemaker publishes the podcast and new episodes come out every month or so. We had a great conversation the other day, touching not only on my boating history, but some of my other careers including writing and flying helicopters. I expect the episode to come out in August unless he’s got one queued up before that.
It should go without saying that I’m pretty excited about working with the Passagemaker folks. I’m hoping it leads to more work in the future.
Looking at my list of published articles, which appear in reverse chronological order, it’s interesting to see how the topics I wrote about changed over the years.
My very first published article, way back in 1987, was about auditing construction project budgets. At the time, I was working as an auditor for K. Hovnanian, a position I hated within a week of sitting down at my desk. (It took me just four months to escape to another job; I don’t even mention the time I spent there in any resume or work history.)
After that, I wrote about computers for auditing and then computers in general. Then computer applications and software reviews. Motorcycling was in there, too. How-to pieces. Aviation and flying helicopters. There’s lots of overlap — most of what I wrote in articles was computer related for most of my writing career. It was nice to move into aviation writing and now it’s great to be writing about boating topics.
I guess it all comes down to this: I’ll write about anything I know something about.
I like to write and I do need to apologize for neglecting this blog as I have for much of this year. I hope to do more of it soon — especially if I can write for quality publications and get a check when I’m done.
I think there are two reasons this time, one familiar and one new.
Let’s face it: I’ve been blogging at An Eclectic Mind since long before it had that name. My first blog post was way back in 2003. The blog had my name back then, Maria Langer, and it could be found at MariaLanger.com — where it can still be found; try it! I wrote about the things that were on my mind. For a while, I wrote computer-related how-to content, but I eventually broke that out and put it into a site called Maria’s Guides which I’ve since allowed to die. I wrote a lot about politics. I wrote a lot about my work and my play. I wrote a lot about my crazy divorce. I wrote a lot about social media. I wrote a lot about building a new life in Washington State.
Heck, I just wrote a lot about anything that was on my mind.
And that’s what I personally think a blog is for. At least this blog.
There are no ads here. No tracking. No annoying pop-ups begging you to subscribe or send me money. It’s just the blog of a writer — a person who has always written — sharing what’s on her mind.
If you come here often to read my latest and actually like a lot of what you read, great! I’m thrilled to have you here!
But if you stumbled in here unknowingly and have concluded that this blog is crap and a total waste of your time, well, just go away and don’t come back. It doesn’t bother me.
And if you think that’s harsh, well blame social media. (Also understand that “go away” is not what I originally wrote.)
I use an app on my Mac called MarsEdit to compose all my blog posts. One of the features I really like about it is that it keeps a database on my computer of every single post. So I can scroll back through past posts and see titles and dates of past posts. I can quickly link to them in new posts or just view them in Mars Edit or in a browser to remember what I wrote.
What I’m seeing right now is that between April 15 and July 26, I didn’t write a damn thing here. That’s more than three months.
I have two excuses for this dearth of blog posts.
The first excuse is the one I usually produce for such occasions: I am busy. Unlike a lot of people out there, I live a full and relatively active life that often keeps me away from home and a keyboard I can actually type on. (No, I won’t blog from a phone or tablet. Don’t even suggest such a thing.)
Back in April, I was dealing with getting my boat across the mountains and having it serviced and put into the water to join a charter program. Everyone (other than me) was working in slow motion. It was incredibly frustrating and anger inducing. And costly. I paid to have my boat sitting in dry dock for two weeks when it only needed to be there for a few days — if the people doing the work would have done it promptly.
Okay, ’nuff said. No reason to get worked up about something that I dealt with months ago.
They got my boat into the water on April 8. Before that, it was in dry dock. After that, it was at it’s new home at Squalicum Harbor Marina. As I type this, it’s at Stuart Island, earning me about $3,200 for the week.
Anyway, I spent most of the month of April on the boat doing the things I needed to do and nagging everyone else to do what they needed to do. The boat lives in Bellingham WA now and that’s a 4-hour drive from my house. I spent more time on the boat in April than I did in my own home.
Then May. One of my Hobbies Gone Wild is silversmithing. I make jewelry out of gemstone cabochons, sterling silver, and copper. I’ve been at it since about 2018 and I’ve actually gotten pretty good. I sell my work at art shows in Washington and Arizona. May was the first two art shows I’d participated in since summer 2023. (Regular readers may recall that I did a 8000+ nautical mile boat trip between 2022 and 2024?) Before I could do the shows, I had to gather together all my show equipment, make sure it was ready to use, and make a bunch of new inventory. That first show was Mother’s Day Weekend and I had my second (now third) best weekend ever. The next show was Memorial Day Weekend, just two weeks later, and I had more inventory to make after selling so much at the previous show. So yeah, I was busy.
And in between all that, also in May, I was the instructor on a 5-day “Learn ‘n’ Cruise” class for San Juan Yachting. And then a half-day class refresher class for the first client to charter my boat. (Please don’t ask.) Around that time is when the problems with the new rudder indicator reared their ugly head. That fiasco took up a lot of my time, too.
Here I am with my good friend Janet, enjoying a cocktail up on the command bridge at Blake Island.
When June rolled along, I taught another 5-day class. And then I took the boat out with my good friend Janet for two weeks in Puget Sound and the San Juan Islands with a stop in Victoria BC. If you’re keeping count, that’s 19 out of 30 days. I spent another 2 days on the boat before I went home.
By this time, it was pretty obvious that neglecting my yard and garden was paying off negative dividends. I split my time between making more jewelry inventory and trying to get control of the weeds and irrigation system. My boat trailer and truck camper remained parked in the driveway, which is absurd when you realize that I have a 2880 square foot garage.
One of the best things about having a camper like this is being able to drive up into the national forest, find a spot off the road, and camp. It’s quiet, private, and free.
Then July came and I had two shows to do. One was local but four days long. The other was all the way out at Sequim on the coast — a 5-hour drive. I took my camper. While I was out there, I dropped my laptop and broke the screen. I had to stop at the Apple Store on the way home to get it fixed. I also stopped at IKEA to buy some organization solutions for my jewelry studio. And a friend’s house. And a consignment client. It took me two days to get home. I camped overnight up in the national forest near Stampede Pass.
I’m going to be on this boat for the next two weeks. And yes, it’s a paying gig.
And now it’s still July. I’ve been home for nearly a week, thrilled that I don’t have to lock myself up each day in my jewelry studio to make inventory for yet another show. I’ve been pulling a lot of weeds, using a chainsaw daily, and assembling IKEA furniture. But tomorrow I head to Fort Walton Beach FL to help the owner of a Beneteau Antares 11 reposition the boat from there to Jacksonville, a distance of about 750 miles — if we go through the middle of Florida instead of around the bottom. The forecast on Wednesday is 81°F with a 50% chance of rain and at least 80% humidity. And have you heard that it’s hurricane season? Fun times!
I also spent part of this month writing two boating articles for publication and being interviewed for a podcast.
So yeah, I’ve been busy. And when I get back, I’ll still be busy, with yet another art show coming up at the end of August.
(I admit here that I’ve shuffled the deck a bit and hope to get another boating gig at month end — something interesting enough to get me to cancel that art show appearance. Cross your fingers for me.)
And now I’d like to introduce a second excuse for not blogging as regularly as I should: my journal.
Back in 2024, I started making daily entries in journal. I completed every day in 2024 and, so far this year, have only missed about 10 days.
In my journal, I write down what I did that day, along with any thoughts I had in my head. There’s nothing really great about it. I’m using it as a memory device for when I get older and my memory fails. I can look through the book and remember the things I did and thought.
But I think that writing in the journal has made it feel less important for me to blog. In a way, the journal is taking away my need to share what’s going on in my head. So blogging doesn’t seem as important.
Does that make sense?
I’m going to try to get back into writing or blogging on a regular basis. Over the past three days, I’ve written a bunch of blog posts for this blog as well as My Great Loop Adventure. I’ve set the publication dates and times so they don’t all get published on the same day.
As usual, they will be a mix of what’s going on in my life and what I’m thinking about. Some of them might interest you. Some of them might not. But then again, isn’t that what my blog has always been?
I’m also going to try to share links to blog posts and other online content that I’ve really enjoyed and can recommend. Hopefully, I’ll be able to share those on a timely basis.
Your comments are always appreciated.
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:
Clearly, the connecting link option was better, as long as I could get the right connecting 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.
Here’s the galvanized steel version of the connecting link that was recommended by someone on Tugnuts.
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.
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.
Here’s the same kind of part from US Stainless. It sure looks a lot cleaner.
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.
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.
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.
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 crossed my wake in Chicago on August 12, 2024. Here’s my boat, Do It Now, in a slip at DuSable Marina in Chicago, exactly 6 feet away from the slip I started from in October 2022.
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.)
The bigger your garage is, the more stuff you’ll accumulate to fill it.
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?
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.
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.
What a deal! This 2014 American Tug could be mine for just $610K! Not what I was hoping to spend, however.
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.
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.
There will be no return to Valcour Island in a boat anytime soon. But I will get to cruise the Pacific Northwest this summer so I’m not as sad as this picture might make me look.
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.
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