Day 7 – Best Laid Plans

[hoops name=”break”]Quote of the day:

“You wake up with nothing to do, and by the end of the day, you haven’t gotten half of it done….”  Les Dobbe

We’ve just begun our 7^th day at sea….Somewhat odd to “begin” a day in the middle of the day, but since we left Galapagos at 1pm, that’s what it is….

This morning (the end of the 6^th day-sheesh) began well enough….Dawn gave rise to calming waters from the squally seas experienced overnight. SSB net was checked into, and we noted the positions of our friends on other boats crossing as well….The herd of puddle jumpers, just like the wildebeasts in Africa, has begun its migration from Panama, Galapagos, and Mexico to French Polynesia and beyond.  Emails were gathered from our satellite connection, and we all grouped together in the pilothouse to share our mail and blog comments.  By the way, thanks to all of you who take the time to comment or send an email…It is truly the highlight of our day!

Anyway, Rose and I fixed a yummy breakfast of taco eggs and tortillas and had great plans for the day ahead.  I even had a blog topic all ready to go in my head that was just waiting to be put down on paper …er, computer.  The squalls appeared to be clearing, so the guys decided the time was right to finish emptying the second fuel bladder into the fuel tank.  That’s when the fun began…..

We have a routine that we go through in preparation for this procedure.  We try and have everything ready to go, so there are no surprises and so that we’ll have everything at the ready to wash down the bladder, dry and stow it after emptying.  So, Les was filling the washdown bucket with soap and water from the cockpit shower hose, when all at once, the hose burst.  Thinking quickly, he immediately shut off the water at the faucet and John ran to turn off the fresh water pump, lest the lazarette fill with water from the burst hose.  Sigh…..We’ll have to deal with that after the bladder is empty.

In the meantime, the seas and swell have begun to pick up again, and in fact are becoming quite confused.  We turn the boat to a more kindly heading and proceed to empty the bladder quite successfully in the tank.  Woo-hoo!  Two down and one to go!  But, alas, we still need to wash down the empty bladder so we can stow it.  John turns on the water pump and we check to see if there is any more leakage in the laz….Nada, none, so we’re good to proceed on the washing.  Because the hose is yet to be repaired, I pull out the bow hoses from the anchor locker and hook them up to the fresh water washdown on the bow.  I note that we are really rocking and rolling by now and breathe a prayer of thanks that it waited until after the bladder was empty before it got bad.  Manhandling the unruly snakes of cursed PVC, I start to drag them through the door on the Portuguese bridge just as Mystic took an unexpected roll to port and slammed my toe into the hard fiberglass of the door jamb……Ooowww!!  That really, really hurt!  Hobbling around, cursing like a sailor, I turn on the water for the guys and go into the galley to get some ice to put on my toe.

Mission accomplished….The empty, and now clean bladder is hanging in the cockpit like a bright orange deer carcass, rhythmically swaying as it dries.  But, there is still the hose in the cockpit to repair.  Lazarette must be opened and nearly unloaded to find the right bin with the plumbing parts.  Wasn’t there a spare hose in the hose bin?  Oh, and look….the hardware bin is 1/3 filled with water from the leak.  John finishes drying out the lazarette, Rose goes below for the “save-a-boat” box that has the handy-dandy-boat-show-special-Clamptite-clamp-maker that will be required to make this repair, Les assembles parts and pieces in the cockpit, and I grab the hardware box with the swimming parts and hobble with it into the pilothouse, stopping by the galley to down 3 Advil for my now throbbing toe.

Standing in the pilothouse, I keep a watch while emptying the wet parts onto a towel.  Bin emptied and dried out, parts are dried one by one, replaced into new dry baggies, and put back into the bin.  Rose comes in to help me finish up.  Hose is successfully repaired, joy shared, extra parts put back in bins, bins put back into lazarette, lazarette hatch closed, cockpit quiet again.  The bright orange deer still sways in the corner.  It’s now 1pm.

And it strikes me…….We are no longer Masters of our own Destiny……

Circumstances now dictate our lives….The sea rules what we do and when we do it…..The weather certainly has more control over us than we do ourselves…..Even Mystic is the boss of us….If she decides to throw a tantrum, we hop-to!!  Perhaps it’s all an illusion anyway that we ever have any real control in life…  I don’t know.  But I do know that right now, the currents, the waves, the sun and moon all conspire to humble us to admit that we have no choice but to let go and ride this sea with Faith, Humor, and Humility….

In the meantime, naps are being had by the crew and captain, and a new dinner plan is hatched since it’s way too rolly for plan A.  And I’m not sure if it’s broken or not, but it hardly matters since treatment is the same anyway…From the Medicine at Sea book:  “Tape the broken toe to the adjacent toe for support, and give the patient an ice-cold double Grey Goose martini with 2 spears of pickled asparagus in it for pain.”

No….The captain and crew didn’t buy it either…..Too bad about that….