Friday, March 18, 2011
All this boat work would sure be easier if we could spend entire days on it. But I've been working on other things most mornings, keeping my science and writing commitments moving along. And Alisa has been shouldering the vast majority of childcare, as always. The upshot of this is that we've gotten on a very late schedule - me because I start on boat work halfway through the day, Alisa because she can't do much until the boys are asleep. My goal is to cross two jobs off my list every day, and I'm often up to midnight to do it.
I'm cautiously optimistic that we're on schedule to get out of here - if for no other reason than we're pretty fed up with the restricted horizons and constant work of Alameda, and can't wait to start sailing!
Meanwhile, yesterday I had the first person tell me that I was going to die on the trip.
I was talking to a canvasmaker about doing us a shade for the cockpit. He couldn't do the work on our schedule, but instead of just telling me that, he also had to take the opportunity to tell me that I would die in the tropics without a shade ("bimini") for the cockpit.
I might be a little picky on this front, but really, even if you mean it metaphorically, telling someone that they're going to die on their upcoming trip might not be the best idea...
I was actually a bit relieved that he couldn't make the bimini for us anyway. It turns out that even when someone else is doing a job like that, you end up putting in a lot of time interacting with the worker to make sure the job goes right. So far we've got the rigger, the electrician, the autopilot guy and the metal shop working on the boat. And as pleasant and professional as they have generally been, I'll be glad when we're not dealing with them anymore, and the autonomy of our little ship is returned to us.
So now we just have to fit that bimini job into Alisa's schedule. I figure that if she could finish the sailcover for Pelagic before Eric was born, she can do a bimini before we leave California!