Hardly anything on the haul-out to-do list was a task that I (Christiana) could do on my own. I still feel overwhelmed (and over-helmed) when sailing MACH 5. I’m unskilled labor. I’m a greenhorn.
green·horn /ˈɡrēnˌhôrn/ noun INFORMAL•NORTH AMERICAN a person who is new to or inexperienced at a particular activity.
How was it in the yard?
Mark assigns me a liferaft cradle to de-rust and polish. Yep! I can do that. (BTW – it was surprisingly rewarding to see the progress over the day.) He gives me bolts to clean. Yep! I can do that too. Tho, you might wonder why we’d reuse them instead of replacing them. Stainless steel and giant bolts can go for upwards of $6 each. The prop alone had six bolts plus two little bolts. Doing the math? Could be $36+ when the bolts are good, just dirty. When Mark sees oxidation, rust, knicks, or bending, the bolts are replaced. Otherwise, reuse, reuse, reuse. It’s one of the many things that make this lifestyle more eco-friendly and sustainable than most American lives.
I became adept at using the sander. I sanded the hull. Sanded rust and oxidation off the rudder post. It took about two hours of hanging over the rudder post and sanding with a wire brush on the frill. But dang! Look at the before green and after silver and gold! Yes, I am wearing safety goggles and a mask.
What’s it like being a greenhorn on the boat?
Well, sometimes I feel like I’m not doing my full half. However, I play gopher, domestic goddess, and happiness engineer. We did a shakedown sail last week. Our nets to hold “garage items” in place in the v-berth worked! My changes to the domestic parts of the boat resulted in fewer things flying across the salon as we tacked. I learned which drawers need their stoppers fixed…which means the drawer slide out by itself. 😮
This is what you look like when you are going to sand the hull. Then, despite wearing all that PPE, you still look like a coal miner.
