Tuesday, November 5, 2013
San Diego: losing a bed partner
Don’t worry. Carol seldom reads this. Besides I am only trying to prove that had I wanted to I could have become rich in several ways, among them writing for the National Enquirer, which I deliberately don’t capitalize, or several British tabloids, though the latter probably would have led to prison.
Having caught your attention with the teaser, I will, as is customary, proceed first to other things.
a case of mistaken identity
I am a subscriber to the digital edition of the NY TIMES. This morning I received an email from them that began:
As an influential business leader, you
tragic flaw and conundrum
My understanding of the ancient Greek concept of the tragic flaw is that an individual’s strength becomes the instrument of his destruction.
I thought of this a half an hour ago when I was sitting on GANNET’s deck on a perfect evening.
San Diego’s wonderfully pleasant climate is in part the reason San Diego is not a great place to sail: light wind. I am more aware of this now than when I lived here forty years ago; but then it is not unreasonable that after five circumnavigations my standards have changed. Less than ten knots of wind is the norm in San Diego. Less than ten knots of wind makes sitting on deck at sunset delightful. Less than ten knots of wind does not make for great sailing.
For the past few nights, I have been faced with a conundrum: I like to have a drink on deck at sunset. I have a general rule not to drink before 5:00 p.m. Since the end of daylight savings time, sunset here is before 5:00 p.m.
Somehow I suspect that there are others on this planet with greater problems.
I solved mine by starting drinking early.
I’m not sure of the details, but its (I keep typing ‘her’ first, but refuse to use the female pronoun for a drone, however clever) tracking page shows miles to go ‘0’. This is a remarkable accomplishment and I congratulate all those who made it happen.
Earlier I mentioned being rich.
Steve sent me a quote from an article in the NY TIMES from a father about his musician son: “He doesn’t want for much, largely because he’s smart enough to know that the only way to be rich is to want for little.”
Now, at last, for the good part.
In refining GANNET’s stowage, during my previous time on the little boat, I moved some of the contents of the galley bag, which has resided on the V berth, into a day bag that I stowed on the port quarter berth. Not everything in the day bag is used daily, but they are items I want to reach more easily.
Sitting at my customary position facing aft in The Great Cabin, I can reach the day bag by leaning forward, while to reach the galley bag I have to twist and reach behind me.
The division works, but the bag I was using was too small, so I ordered two waterproof duffle bags, recommended to me, I think, by Steve, for which I thank him.
The bags are waterproof only to the zipper, but it is covered by a very heavy duty velcroed flap. I am confident the bags are splash proof, and suspect that they may be waterproof fully immersed for a while.
If they are fully immersed inside GANNET’s cabin, I will have greater worries than the loss of their contents.
I am using one to stow the four tiller pilots and the Torqeedo tiller arm, even though these are themselves more or less waterproof.
I am using the other as my day galley bag, and because it is larger than the old one, have moved the case with the Dartington crystal glasses and a week’s supply of freeze dry meals into it.
This means that I no longer need daily access to the galley bag, which I have moved from the v-berth, where we have been sleeping together, onto the starboard pipe berth beneath my clothes bag.
This dramatically opens up the v-berth.
I will sleep tonight without bumping into freeze dried meals.
Surely you didn’t expect anything more salacious.