More on this admittedly well thought out gesture on Fisher's blog and Ben's blog. Remember this, Fisher and Ben: revenge is a dish best served cold.
And laced with stool softener.
S/V Hello World's Travel Log
boat friends, revisited
Christy and I enjoyed a weekend out in Minnesota for my cousin Erin's wedding. Fisher was tasked with looking after Hello World while we were away. And what do we find in our boat when we come home?
More on this admittedly well thought out gesture on Fisher's blog and Ben's blog. Remember this, Fisher and Ben: revenge is a dish best served cold.
And laced with stool softener.
More on this admittedly well thought out gesture on Fisher's blog and Ben's blog. Remember this, Fisher and Ben: revenge is a dish best served cold.
And laced with stool softener.
re-naming party
I promised an update on the re-naming party beyond a picture of me eating the GPS reciever. Here's some more pictures from the event. It was wicked fun and we were really honored that people came by to ring in this new boat of ours.
After the crap Auguary weather, it was nice to have a beautiful September evening.
We overtook our finger pier so apologies to Ian, our neighbor to the west sharing this finger pier. I promise we're not always like this.
Ken and Erin pondering our complete lack of boom.
Like all of our parties, Christy MC'd and I just poured champagne everywhere like a howler monkey flinging poo.
Boat warming gifts from friends. "Cardboard flavored sesame seed horse feed cookies?? You shouldn't have. Really. No really. You really shouldn't have."
Poor Alison, she's always the island of lucidity in a sea of liquored fools.
Fisher measuring out the exact amount of mixer to go with his rum.
Not only was I calling in an airstrike with our GPS, I was also dialing 867-5309. "Hello?" [snicker] "Is Jenny there?" [howls of laughter]
Fisher working on his Blue Steele look. My friend, there's a lot more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking.
Gotta move on. Gotta move on. Gotta move on. Won't you take me to Funkytown?
Paul and Erin from Windshadow, a wicked cool Fuji 32, clearly regretting ever accepting this invitation.
Oh that's right. I can open a beer with my armpits. Who's thirsty??
KEN: "I'll eat this for a dollar."
Ken's stripping career comes crashing to a mercifully early halt as his hammy lets go like a busted guitar string.
The next morning. That lump on the settee is Ken.
The cockpit was not pretty the next morning. No, not pretty at all.
Thanks to Ben and Gina for most of these pictures. Especially the ridiculously embarrassing ones of me. No really. You shouldn't have.
The rest of the pics are here.
After the crap Auguary weather, it was nice to have a beautiful September evening.
We overtook our finger pier so apologies to Ian, our neighbor to the west sharing this finger pier. I promise we're not always like this.
Ken and Erin pondering our complete lack of boom.
Like all of our parties, Christy MC'd and I just poured champagne everywhere like a howler monkey flinging poo.
Boat warming gifts from friends. "Cardboard flavored sesame seed horse feed cookies?? You shouldn't have. Really. No really. You really shouldn't have."
Poor Alison, she's always the island of lucidity in a sea of liquored fools.
Fisher measuring out the exact amount of mixer to go with his rum.
Not only was I calling in an airstrike with our GPS, I was also dialing 867-5309. "Hello?" [snicker] "Is Jenny there?" [howls of laughter]
Fisher working on his Blue Steele look. My friend, there's a lot more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking.
Gotta move on. Gotta move on. Gotta move on. Won't you take me to Funkytown?
Paul and Erin from Windshadow, a wicked cool Fuji 32, clearly regretting ever accepting this invitation.
Oh that's right. I can open a beer with my armpits. Who's thirsty??
KEN: "I'll eat this for a dollar."
Ken's stripping career comes crashing to a mercifully early halt as his hammy lets go like a busted guitar string.
The next morning. That lump on the settee is Ken.
The cockpit was not pretty the next morning. No, not pretty at all.
Thanks to Ben and Gina for most of these pictures. Especially the ridiculously embarrassing ones of me. No really. You shouldn't have.
The rest of the pics are here.
raising the stick
OK, let's dispense with it right up front. The process of inserting a keel stepped mast through the mast partners and down into the lubricated mast step inside the boat is rife with opportunities for puerile comments and bawdry double entendres. "Are you sure it will fit?" "Don't think about it too much, Jason!" "Don't worry, it happens to all guys." C'mon, people. Both my mom and Christy's mom read this blog so let's take the high road here, OK? (penis! hehehe)
We brought the boat back to Canal Boatyard to step the mast last Wednesday and finally be done with boat yard work. They had to use their monster crane because the stick was too big (what?) for their regular crane. They hooked up the mast to the crane and lifted it up and over the mast partners on deck. These guys are really good at what they do and had it ready to drop into the mast step in no time. The rest of the time, we spent trying to get the wiring out of the mast. After what felt like hours of battling with the mast wiring, Christy finally got all the wiring run correctly so we could drop the mast the rest of the way down.
"Dear Santa, if you can get this in our boat without punching a hole in the bottom of the boat, I promise I'll never put Tabasco in Dad's Preparation H again!"
The yard guys hook up the mast to the crane.
Of course, we tied off the shrouds and furlers too high so Kim had to climb up the mast while it was hanging off the crane to untie it.
CHRISTY: "How's it going down there?"
JASON: [unending stream of blistering swear words]
Once we got the mast stepped, it was time to run around and attach all the stays and shrouds to make sure the mast stayed vertical.
CHRISTY: "Are the spreaders supposed to point down at a 45 degree angle?"
JASON: [unending stream of blistering swear words]
Since we'd already put the yard way off schedule by taking too long to step the mast, we decided to dock the boat over on their seawall and then deal with the spreaders.
I'm looking at the 45' space on the wall that I'm supposed to dock in directly between two boats that are way more expensive than ours. Me? Nervous?
She's a sailboat again!
Once we got docked on the seawall, we tied a messenger line to a halyard and clipped it on to each outer shroud and hauled up on it to straighten out the spreaders and that worked pretty well. We have some last minute straightening to do but we need to send someone up the mast anyways.
We just caused our first traffic jam opening the Ballard Bridge!
Fisher and Christy working the locks.
Once again, this only got done because of the help of friends. A huge bucket of thanks go out to Ben, Gina, and Kim. Fisher, true to his MO, showed up just in time for us to be done and head out for beers - the bastard. But we gave him a pass because he's still probably done more work on our boat than I have.
Gina did a brilliant job photographing the whole process for us. Ben posted the pics on flickr but flickr has that patented guaranteed-to-aggravate Random Sort algorithm that drives me crazy so I re-posted the pics on our Smugmug account here in an order that satiates my OCD.
47° 39' 33.62"N 122° 22' 14.04"W
We brought the boat back to Canal Boatyard to step the mast last Wednesday and finally be done with boat yard work. They had to use their monster crane because the stick was too big (what?) for their regular crane. They hooked up the mast to the crane and lifted it up and over the mast partners on deck. These guys are really good at what they do and had it ready to drop into the mast step in no time. The rest of the time, we spent trying to get the wiring out of the mast. After what felt like hours of battling with the mast wiring, Christy finally got all the wiring run correctly so we could drop the mast the rest of the way down.
"Dear Santa, if you can get this in our boat without punching a hole in the bottom of the boat, I promise I'll never put Tabasco in Dad's Preparation H again!"
The yard guys hook up the mast to the crane.
Of course, we tied off the shrouds and furlers too high so Kim had to climb up the mast while it was hanging off the crane to untie it.
CHRISTY: "How's it going down there?"
JASON: [unending stream of blistering swear words]
Once we got the mast stepped, it was time to run around and attach all the stays and shrouds to make sure the mast stayed vertical.
CHRISTY: "Are the spreaders supposed to point down at a 45 degree angle?"
JASON: [unending stream of blistering swear words]
Since we'd already put the yard way off schedule by taking too long to step the mast, we decided to dock the boat over on their seawall and then deal with the spreaders.
I'm looking at the 45' space on the wall that I'm supposed to dock in directly between two boats that are way more expensive than ours. Me? Nervous?
She's a sailboat again!
Once we got docked on the seawall, we tied a messenger line to a halyard and clipped it on to each outer shroud and hauled up on it to straighten out the spreaders and that worked pretty well. We have some last minute straightening to do but we need to send someone up the mast anyways.
We just caused our first traffic jam opening the Ballard Bridge!
Fisher and Christy working the locks.
Once again, this only got done because of the help of friends. A huge bucket of thanks go out to Ben, Gina, and Kim. Fisher, true to his MO, showed up just in time for us to be done and head out for beers - the bastard. But we gave him a pass because he's still probably done more work on our boat than I have.
Gina did a brilliant job photographing the whole process for us. Ben posted the pics on flickr but flickr has that patented guaranteed-to-aggravate Random Sort algorithm that drives me crazy so I re-posted the pics on our Smugmug account here in an order that satiates my OCD.
47° 39' 33.62"N 122° 22' 14.04"W
i feel like...
... a bag of hammered shit.
Hello World's official re-naming party last night. I may have ever so slightly over-libated.
To the best of my recollection, I was calling in an air strike by shouting into our circa-1990 GPS. More later when that guy ringing the cathedral bells directly behind my eye sockets knocks it the hell off.
Hello World's official re-naming party last night. I may have ever so slightly over-libated.
To the best of my recollection, I was calling in an air strike by shouting into our circa-1990 GPS. More later when that guy ringing the cathedral bells directly behind my eye sockets knocks it the hell off.
Hello J28, Hello World!!!
We finally got our permanent slip at Shilshole! Woohoo! J28 baby! Come on down!
Well, come down on Thursday when we get back from stepping the mast...
I'm quite happy to be in J dock - both because of the really fun and interesting people we've met as neighbors, but also because of my affinity for the letter "J". Though it's been screwing me up lately because I sailed on a J24, J35 and a J105...so remembering this other J number is proving to be a bit challenging. Nonetheless, I still manage to find the boat every time I walk down the dock. Though it might not be so easy once we get the mast on...
We really are loving the slip. We have a great neighbor who's in this AMAZING 50's build wooden boat that just came out of restoration. Good news? It's got about a 5 foot beam, so we have PLENTY of space to dock. The bad news? It's about the most beautiful boat I've ever seen and we would crush it like a bug if we hit it. Fortunately, they're off sailing for a few weeks so we have some time to practice docking with no bug squishing.
The rest of the neighborhood is equally as fun. We're docked across from a guy that bought a 50 foot sailboat for his first ever boat, so we're feeling like 40 is nothing. We've got circumnavigators down the way and friends practically across the fairway. I don't know why I was worried about moving out of the houseboat - this place is going to be a blast.
47°40'37.25"N 122°24'38.06"W
Well, come down on Thursday when we get back from stepping the mast...
I'm quite happy to be in J dock - both because of the really fun and interesting people we've met as neighbors, but also because of my affinity for the letter "J". Though it's been screwing me up lately because I sailed on a J24, J35 and a J105...so remembering this other J number is proving to be a bit challenging. Nonetheless, I still manage to find the boat every time I walk down the dock. Though it might not be so easy once we get the mast on...
We really are loving the slip. We have a great neighbor who's in this AMAZING 50's build wooden boat that just came out of restoration. Good news? It's got about a 5 foot beam, so we have PLENTY of space to dock. The bad news? It's about the most beautiful boat I've ever seen and we would crush it like a bug if we hit it. Fortunately, they're off sailing for a few weeks so we have some time to practice docking with no bug squishing.
The rest of the neighborhood is equally as fun. We're docked across from a guy that bought a 50 foot sailboat for his first ever boat, so we're feeling like 40 is nothing. We've got circumnavigators down the way and friends practically across the fairway. I don't know why I was worried about moving out of the houseboat - this place is going to be a blast.
47°40'37.25"N 122°24'38.06"W
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