Nothing Hurts Morale More Than Salt in Your Crannies

So Jerry is still partaking of medical tourism in Bermuda. So far he has had a lot of tuning up while bobbing around in the beautiful, milky-blue waters. The pleasant islanders, colorful buildings, proximity to the US, and shallow lagoons here are reminiscent of the Bahamas, with one exception. Bermuda is like the Bahamas with the HVAC turned on. It is room temperature outside! This Thanksgiving, we are grateful for the perfect boat-project weather!

Greg has been busy removing the evidence that we put Jerry through the wringer recently. The word “wringer” is well-chosen, as on arrival, our rigging looked “off”.  Sure enough, the standing rigging had a twist to it; something metal broke up there.  Who knows when? After multiple mast climbs, a guy named Steve, a man of few words, has something on order for us. And so we wait.

After multiple diagnostics and treatment protocols, Jerry is almost seaworthy again. Our starboard prop is free of its fouling, and the saildrive is unharmed.  Running a full diagnostic on the port engine alternator resulted in its successful revival by the simple replacement of a bad fuse.  Fixing the port engine alternator revived our “broken” windlass, which, at the end of the day had nothing wrong with it besides an irritating safety protocol that blocked windlass operation if the port engine was not on. One of the broken sliding door latches has been repaired, so it can at least stay closed. Mainsail batten holders are on order. Greg found a better spot for our Starlink, away from the shadows of our metal stanchions.  Our generator refused to start after we got here, due to some badly corroded wiring, and a temporary fix until we can get more wire is allowing us to once again heat water for showers and use our Dometic fridge.  Our broken enclosure zipper is currently in the possession of Steve, hopefully getting repaired.  Not sure, as he didn’t say. And, at last, a thorough washing has removed the grimy salt from Jerry’s crannies.

Nothing hurts morale more than salt in your crannies!

However, despite this massive improvement, Jerry is still suffering from a major injury, one so severe that he would easily be welcomed into the ranks of all the real and fictional pirates with bodily damage.  Oddly enough, Jerry received this injury not when battling the wind and waves offshore, but rather while happily bobbing in a calm anchorage while his crew enjoyed an afternoon nap.

WHAM!

A neighbor’s bowsprit plowed into Jerry’s starboard hull, ripping an 18” hole amidships, just under the gunnels.

Our mortified neighbor, who was just as surprised in that moment as we were, had started his monohull’s engine to generate some power, unaware that he had started it in gear.

And so the Burnetts are living out the Captain Ron quote on their boat cards: “If something’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen out there!” 

“Something” is the operative word here. It encompasses all possible calamity: the usual shit you can anticipate, and the random shit you can’t.

Apparently, the sole Bermudan fiberglasser is off-island and enjoying a month-long vacation.  This must explain why Mel just saw Greg board the boat with a shopping bag full of huge tubes of 5200.  Meanwhile, Mel is starting to come to terms with the fact that her dream of living on a boat with all of the tools put up and out of sight will never materialize.

And so now Jerry, battered but not beaten, awaits the structural equivalent of an eyepatch, with hopes for an eye transplant in the future, perhaps in St. Martin. Mel only hopes that this particular movie quote, slightly altered for effect, is not portentious about their future voyages.

“For all that pirates are clever cobs; we are an unimaginative lot when it comes to naming things.”

“I once sailed with a geezer lost both of his arms and part of his eye.”

“What’d you call him?”

“Jerry” 

–Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End