Alternatives

I'm still in Charlotte-- my return to the beach has been delayed for one day. I talked with Bob on the phone last night, and learned that he had not used yesterday, which was originally the last day before I got back, to clean his tools, etc. off the boat. From what I understand, he hasn't even BEGUN this process. When he told me this, I flipped out. Of course. I told him I was going to come back to the boat and I was going to take one look inside and and if it was still knee-deep in crap I was going to get back in the car, drive to the nicest hotel I could find and start ordering room service. There was a small moment of silence, and then he asked “Are you going to order Eggs Benedict?” 

“What?” I asked, completely derailed. 

And he said, “Well, you like Eggs Benedict, so I figured you'd order that.” And he said it so sincerely and it was such a silly thing to say, my heart melted. This man loves me, I thought, and I miss him very much. So I told him he could come with me if he wanted, that we could both get Eggs Benedict, and we could watch TV and jump on the bed, and after we got tired of that we could go to the bar and sing karaoke. I'm pretty sure it won't come to this, and if it does, I'm pretty sure he won't sing. But it's nice to have alternatives.

Envy Me Not (yet)

Okay, here in am in Charlotte, getting all these email congratulations for Bob and I finishing the boat. Most of them contain references to us sitting on the stern, sipping cocktails and watching the sun go down. I fell compelled to tear a big hole in your happiness by telling you, in plain English: We are not doing this. We are not, in fact, even together. We are miles and lifestyles apart, right now. I am in Charlotte, doing Condo meetings and staying with Mom on occasion and lunching with friends and watching movies from the library and even TV (though only the three major channels, and only when the weather is right) and taking regular showers and washing my clothes one load at a time. BOB, on the other hand, is still at the boat, working his ass off, installing water tanks (he's going for two, and prepping the space for a future third), not taking showers (no water, no showers), eating out of cans and the frozen section of the local Food Lion. Trio is, we can all assume, filled to the gunwales with the chaotic tangle of tools, dirty rags, pipes, odds and ends of wood, metal, and wire that are ALWAYS part of Bob doing any work. I was told that a friend ducked his head into the boat the other day and said “Oh, Susan won't like this.” Bob told him that was exactly why I wasn't there.

So I will go back when he is done making messes and when my meetings are over, and eventually we'll get around to that sitting on the stern thing, watching the sun go down. Meanwhile, as a result of living this nearly conventional lifestyle, which is so different from how we normally live, I would like to make an observation:

I know the reason so many Americans struggle with their weight. TV. Too much sitting on our asses and watching it, AND-- and this is the part that just blows me away-- too many food commercials while we do! Good Grief! I have never in my life seen so much hot dripping butter, so many sizzling steaks, juicy hamburgers, twirls of whipped cream, yummy-looking pizzas. It's a wonder people don't jump in their cars and mob these restaurants, every time one of their commercials comes on. BUT THEY HAVE TO KEEP WATCHING TV, RIGHT????? So they do the next best thing. They raid their fridge or their cupboards for a substitute. But no way is it going to be as tasty as what they just saw in that commercial (which they THINK they've forgotten about, if they even realized it was motivating them in the first place), so they eat an extra amount of the inferior substitute, in an effort to feel the way they would have felt if they'd just finished off that steamed lobster and those crab-stuffed mushrooms, and the breadsticks, and the salad, and don't forget coffee and dessert. All I'm thinking is, if cigarette and liquor ads threaten the health of Americans, what is it that food ads are doing? Boosting the economy? I'm gonna go have a Scotch, a Twinkie and a smoke.

Elvis has left the building and

Trio is in the water. For real. Let us all bow our heads for a moment of silence.
*********

Okay. Here are some pics.

Suzy applying the name to the stern.

Trio in slings, ready to roll.

Trio rolling

A scary moment-- Bob notices that the new (old) zinc at the propeller is cracked. Evan (left) quips "Don't worry, Miss Susan, we'll just put her back up on the hill, and in two or three years, Mr. Bob'll have her ready to go in the water again."

A few of the well-wishers who came for the big event. We had so many people to catch lines when we came into the slip, it was silly. And gratifying.

Our back yard.

Now, to answer your questions:

Yes, we have moved out of the trailer. Hallelujah. And I say again, brothers and sisters, Hallelujah.

Yes, I  will post pictures of the interior of the boat. But it is not quite finished. A divorce was narrowly avoided last week, when I boarded Trio on her first full day in the water, only to discover my hard-working husband removing (by cutting them up) the old rusted stainless-steel water tanks from the bilge. He had not noticed, until it was too late, that the grinding of so much metal was coating EVERY SQUARE CENTIMETER of the boat with grey metallic dust. Everything. All the new paint, all the clean wood, all the vinyl, all the cushions. The interior of every newly cleaned, newly painted storage area. This was not a good day, nor were the several days that followed. But the tanks are out now, and Bob has promised me that this is the last ripping and tearing he's going to do on this boat. I have no choice but to believe him, which let me tell you, is not a very comfortable position to be in. But when I get back there (I'm in Charlotte now, for Easter and to spend some time with my Mom), I will be on the scene daily, and I will have my whip and my tazer with me at all times. Just kidding. I don't have a tazer. 

No, we are not heading off immediately to exotic locales. For one thing, we have to CLEAN THE DAMN BOAT, remember?? For another, there are lots of little and big things yet to be done, including installing the new water tanks, figuring out how many actual "things" like clothes, cooking utensils, tools, books etc., we can fit on the boat, getting that royal blue sail cover off the mainsail, and getting the rigging "tuned" for sailing. That last part can wait forever, as far as I'm concerned, except that I think Kai is going to do it, and I would be happy to have him and Merry (they are engaged now!) come for a weekend. I'm most excited about ditching the blue sail cover. But I digress. What I have requested is that we stay right where we are, in this slip at the boatyard, get settled on the boat, learn some new routines, relax, breathe, watch dolphins, go to the beach, catch crabs, entertain friends and family-- have a home for the first time in five years. Also, and this is not showcasing my most generous tendencies, I want to stroll through that boatyard and watch other people sweat for a change, and I want to look at the blisters on the bottom of their boat and the blisters on their hands and feel bad for them, but not nearly as bad as I'd feel if they were my blisters. I might even put on my work clothes and pitch in and help them for an afternoon. But all the while I will know that our CLEAN, ORDERLY, beautiful boat is safely and finally in the water, where she belongs, and that we can go back there in the evening and take showers and make drinks and sit on the stern and watch the sun set and the tide rise and fall. I'll keep you posted.