Road Trip America, Home Sweet Floating Incomplete Home

Lance showed up to pick up our rental car and they rolled this beast of an Explorer out. They told him it was the only car they had for us, despite the reservations we made weeks ago for a small SUV. Fuel mileage @19 MPG during a fuel crisis. Sigh, it's gonna be an expensive crossing. On the upside, all that stressing I did about the size and weight of the parts and other items we've been stockpiling over the last 8 months was moot. Packing was easy, and visibility was 100% out of every window.

By the way, Ford, WTF? Our RV got 10mpg, and it weighed 22,000+ lbs, it was old when we bought it, and it was also a HOUSE. Ford couldn't do better on the mpg for a large SUV in the interim 25 years since the RV was built? No wonder gas is so expensive if new vehicles coming out have fuel demands like this.

But I digress. We loaded up the giant SUV and rolled out.

Highway 50, the loneliest highway

Eureka, Nevada

Austin, Nevada

We took the advice of family and friends and crossed Nevada on Highway 50. It was a beautiful drive full of old mining towns, breathtaking valleys and a national park called The Great Basin, which we flew past this time but will come back and explore some other day. For our first midday break we took a walk through some petroglyphs, and ultimately landed in Salina Utah, our longest drive day ever at 657 miles.

Hickison Petroglyph Recreation Area

Bright and early the next morning we rolled out for the Denver suburbs, eager to make in time for a birthday party date with Victoria, who turned 7. After that we were able to slow our roll quite a bit.

Victoria's birthday party was a smashing success

West Kansas had some crazy winds, like it usually does this time of year. We fought the wind and landed in time for BBQ at Arthur Bryant's, as recommended by our friend Ceri, a Kansas City native. We stuffed our faces with great BBQ and passed out in a hotel not long afterwards. Of all the driving we do, fighting the wind takes the most out of us.

Get to Artur Bryant's early if you want their renowned brisket, sometimes they run out and you'll end up with pulled pork like I did. The baked beans are undoubtedly the best I've ever had and were just as good cold the next day. 

From there we continued North and East on to see friends in the farmlands of Michigan close to Port Huron. They put us up in their swanky 5th wheel and took us out to see the beautiful town of Port Huron, from which the Mackinac Race departs annually in July.

Bluewater Bridge at Port Huron

Chloe discovered her first skunk in Michigan

Then we got a picture from the yard. Minerva had splashed early. The rest of our journey was rearranged to route us directly to the boat. Our new direct path took us right through Canada, entering at Port Huron and exiting into the North East corner of Vermont.

Vermont in the Spring

Vermont is always beautiful, and somehow we always are rushing across it. Someday I will come back and explore it more slowly.

We arrived to Portland Maine on a Saturday, four days ahead of our projected arrival date. Total miles 3600. Minerva was completely torn apart still, and mastless.

The contents of the topside locker spewed in the salon

The boat is a mess. There's no water, no water heater, the 12v isn't working consistently so there's no fridge, no interior lights, and no control panels. Everything that normally lives in the topside lockers alongside the engine compartment is stacked in the salon, so there's no access to the galley and nowhere to sit. The only space that wasn't torn up or piled high and deep was the master cabin. That's one space I can control, so I started there. Out came the bedding I had washed and sealed in watertight bags before leaving, I made the bed and settled our shoes, clothing and laundry. We pulled out our solar lights and an ipad and settled in to bed for an early night with some YouTube and snacks in lieu of dinner.

The electrical compartment under the mainmast

The yard tells us they are short-handed. They've got two out on Covid and a third stepped on a nail last week and is home recovering. So it'll take them a while to re-commission us.

By day 4 I had a little meltdown because of the general cluttered mess. There was nowhere to sit down and so I'd been carrying my laptop to the clubhouse to work, which is a rather social place and therefore not conducive to focus on the client work that was stacking up. The next morning we rearranged the pile so there was seating to work in the salon and access to the stove and sink. This meant that I could work on the boat and we could prepare simple meals until the pump access was no longer an issue and the stuff could be moved to its proper place and out of the salon. The yard crew never showed up to re-commission us, so we started working through the systems one at a time on our own. Total things discovered so far as non-functional, victims of the winter and/or shop projects:

• Fresh water pump. Lance replaced it last summer with one a friend had gifted us. It was older too, so time for a new one.
• Saltwater pump. It always leaked and there was never sufficient pressure for a timely anchor rinse anyways. Time for a fresh one.
• Water heater. This is a new problem and perhaps it just needs a reset, we hope this is just part of the re-commissioning we don't understand yet.
• 12v intermittent, affecting refrigerator and chartplotter among other things. This is a new problem, and likely related to the electrical work done in the new engine compartment. Lance will need to go through this carefully as there are now all kinds of discarded electrical from the old engine to be removed too. We expected this to be completed fully as part of the engine replacement and are really disappointed to be dealing with such a huge electrical mess, yet again.

Once the first three items are resolved we can put all the stuff back in the locker and return our salon to an orderly state, so those top three are taking precedence. After the salon is sorted we can do a big provisioning run and fully engage the rest of our galley. Between now and then it will be simple meals since we can't access all our food compartments, and because the refrigerator behavior is inconsistent (it runs on 12v).

Lance replacing the saltwater washdown pump, item #2 on our checklist

On Thursday the riggers fetched Minerva and put her mast on. It was really something to see, it's all been documented here. The repair we ordered last September to the main halyard has not been completed, and so we can't mount our sails yet, that will have to wait. We are also hoping the shop comes out to finish their electrical work in the engine compartment so that Lance doesn't have to jump into the middle of their project, but we'll do it if we must after the first three items are resolved. After all, there are puffins to see.

On Friday we returned the rental car. Without access to the lockers, the remaining gear schlepped out from California ended up in the vee berth on top of the sails for sorting later.

The vee berth will be the last thing we sort

It's funny to us, when we visit non-sailors they ask what we do all day. Well... this. This is what we do. Fix, sort and clean. Home sweet floating home.

Aliens Adrift in a Landlubber World

To say we're suffering from culture shock is putting it mildly.

Our drive across the country was quick. From Maine to my sister's house in Northern California Gold Country was 3166 miles; we could have done it in 5 hard driving days, we booked the rental car for 10 so we could pause here and there if something caught our attention, and to get some laptop work done as needed.

We ate so much garbage on the way. Fast food. Drive through. Mmmmm how we've missed it. At first it was a treat, something we rarely access as sailors, but so very convenient from the highway for our whirlwind drive.

Chicago Style Deep Dish, in Chicago

By day 4 we'd had our fill of junk and were craving some good fresh fish and vegetables so we hit the pause button in Laramie WY, settled into a decent hotel to explore the area for a few days, catch up on some laptop work and get in some salads and sushi. We've found there's always affordable healthy food in college towns, and downtown Laramie is home of the University of Wyoming. Right across the street from the football field was some excellent sushi, and fresh salads and tasty tacos could be found anywhere in town.

The University of Wyoming football bleachers, as seen from the main drag

Our rental car came with all the bells and whistles. Seat heaters meant we wrestled less over the dash temperature controls, adaptive cruise control was most helpful on the lonely highway, bluetooth connectivity meant books on tape and unlimited Amazon music. We were well rested, warm and dry. Culture shock.

We gobbled up the miles and arrived to my sister's in comfort, a day early, with a milkshake in the cupholder and french fry rubble on the floor.

Bonneville Flats, Utah

My sister was heading out to the grocery store and asked what she should add to the list. I'd noticed the bagels and the toaster (yes... toast!) but no cream cheese so asked her to bring some home. Here's what she bought. The picture doesn't really do it justice, it's a huge tub of cream cheese - 48 ounces.

Now, keep in mind that the groceries are my responsibility to stow on the boat and it's a perpetual challenge to eat everything we bring aboard before it goes bad. Not only does it require additional strategy to retrieve groceries without a car, but there's a process to storing them too, particularly for refrigerated items like cream cheese. Her casual point was this: she was at Costco already, this giant tub costs $7, and a little bar at the grocery store would be $3.50, so this was way more cost effective. She didn't need to mention there was plenty of space to store it in her cavernous refrigerator, or that with two teenagers in the house who also enjoy toast the five of us were likely to eat it all long before it started to grow fuzzy. She is right, her way makes sense. Even knowing these things I couldn't stop my hands from sweating at the sight of it. Culture shock.

In no time we were surrounded by family and friends. We jumped right into planned activities: Halloween, Thanksgiving, birthday parties, house projects, visits with long-time friends. All good stuff. One day I realized a whole week had gone by without us witnessing a single sunset, that I hadn't checked the weather app for days and in fact hadn't even set foot outside the house in two days, food had been delivered and my nose had been stuck in my laptop, catching up on work postponed during our whirlwind drive. What was going on outside? No idea. Culture shock.

Malfatti, a Napa locals tradition, cannot be found in restaurants. You have to pick it up from the local liquor store.

Lance commented he felt like we were in an alien world, but after a month or so we realize we're the aliens. We don't fit. All around us people are going about their normal, everyday lives and we're just not used to doing it the same way. We're the freaks.

Here are a few of the things I'm appreciating anew, and by which I am quickly becoming spoiled:

Every morning I start my day with toast. And coffee. I can prepare them both at the SAME time.

After every meal I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. No dish drainer required. I do not worry about the quantity of water used for this process (well, maybe a little bit, we are in California after all).

My sister loaned us her spare car, which is awesome. With it we fetch massive amounts of groceries. We don't worry about how many we can physically carry because neither of us has to wear them on their back. No Uber or other public transportation is involved in the grocery process at all.

Chloe testing out the powder near Donner Summit

Laundry... we carry it down the hall, wash it and put it away at our convenience. No quarters and no laundry carts are required, it fits right into the normal day around everything else and the process does not require onsite monitoring.

Internet is constant and fast. It does not require cursing, moving the house, or going elsewhere to access for the workday.

Amazon is not wearing a new path to the door, they were already coming here today anyways and it's fairly predictable what time they'll be arriving.

Food delivery is easy - at no point does our discussion with the delivery driver sound anything like "turn left when you see the boats on stands, we'll meet you at the top of Ramp E" or anything along those lines. A simple address is all that is required. I don't have to monitor their progress, they'll ring the doorbell when they arrive.

Wind? Rain? Dark early? Who knows. We drew the blinds three days ago when getting dressed and forgot to open them back up.

We are definitely the aliens adrift here. When we are reunited with Minerva we'll have some adjusting to do for sure. In the meantime, we're getting fat and lazy living the landlubber life.

Yes that's really the name of this little gas station convenience store chain located throughout the MidWest. Makes me laugh every time.

A new motor, a cold winter, and another epic road trip

Low tide at the MYC exposes the old dock legs, which remind me of chess pieces

The new motor is on its way. They are building it as quickly as they can. I can't magic it here any faster.

Once it gets here, the mechanics will work on it when they can. We can't jump over other people who have had appointments for months. I can't control how easily the swap goes. It might be smooth as butter, but more than likely it will require additional parts and problem-solving. Rushing any of that isn't wise.

The winter weather is coming. I can't do anything about that.

Foggy morning view 

Our plan was to get the new motor in and high-tail it South in November, catch up with friends and sail to the Bahamas for the winter. The soonest the shop could commit to releasing us is Thanksgiving. So... LATE November. Mmmmm OK... Possibly Sketchy between Maine and Virginia.

Every local who heard my plan made the same face. Eyebrows way up, chin tucked, lips pursed or in an o-shape. So maybe high-tailing it outta here in late November isn't a good idea.

After seeing this face on yet another local for the umpteenth time, I realized that my desire to stick with the plan, to be in the Bahamas for the winter, was potentially putting Minerva and us in danger. Oh. The PLAN again. Once again I've somehow become attached to a PLAN. Haven't we learned this lesson yet?

Lance and I must have both gone to bed thinking on it and we both independently woke up with the same solution. The smart, safe thing is to leave Minerva in Maine on the hard, and let the shop do the work at their leisure. When we reunite with her in May we'll get the added benefit of sailing Maine for the Summer of 2022. We can break in the new engine properly and slowly, no pressure attached. We'll get to sail the summer with Al. We'll be close to the shop that did the engine work, in case the relationship between the new engine and the old prop needs tweaking.

So we reluctantly signed the winter storage contract, gave away all our canned food (apparently cans explode in a hard freeze), and picked up a one-way rental car for California. Cross-country road trip here we come.

Minerva on her way to winter storage

As it turns out, it's possible to feel everything at the same time. Mad because the motor failed us - we were expecting another couple of years of service on the rebuilt engine and wanted to schedule the replacement at our leisure with our favorite mechanic in NC. Happy because our friends will sail on to warm water snorkeling adventures this winter. Sad because we won't be with them and we miss them already. Excited to see our West Coast peeps.

Starting to get excited about the road trip itself but haven't had the bandwidth to give that any energy yet.