It's All Fun and Games Until You Have to Put It Away

Here's the first load of five months worth of gear. Not bad, right? We should be able to put this all away. But stop and think for a moment. How do you pack for five months away? Sure, you'll have access to grocery stores. Do you have medications? Special products you prefer? Do you know you'd be able to find whatever brand of widget you count on when you leave your familiar foraging grounds? What about the rest of your family? You already know my pain regarding the catfood. We worked it out. I found a way to make Hatshepsut's raw in manageable batches (a theory we've successfully tested) and I've packed in fifteen cases of Wellness for the other cats. All well and good. Because of my allergies to silly things like perfumes, I have to pack five months worth of soap that won't give me hives. Let me explain how you don't want to find out the hard way that you can't count of 'unscented' to actually mean 'no perfumes'. Allow me to also point out that there are just someplaces no one should ever have hives. Read the label of your unscented soap. Odds are high there's a 'masking scent' unless you shop the same place I do --- did. Naturally, the soap thing is only a tiny example of the things you take for granted simply because you can. Okay. Here's the picture of the LAST load:

Yeah. It was unbelievable, but we got it stowed and the cat tents built. (Kids and their fortresses, I swear.) The load is even mostly balanced. One of the challenges of a catamaran is weight distribution. You want the hulls reasonably on level. It's also a good idea to not overload the boat. While we doubt we're over the safe weight limit for this boat, we do know we won't be going anywhere fast initially. Our plan to cast of Wednesday failed when we realized how many things we'd forgotten in our haste to pack. That and the weather really, really sucked. That's the politest way I can possibly describe that. We fetched our remaining crap, finished last minute errands and had dinner at Moshi Moshi in Ballard. Thursday, I drove the car over to drop at my parents'. We didn't want the car sitting unattended for five months in the marina parking lot. Keith went to see a movie. The weather wasn't much better. KING 5 reported a funnel cloud in Skagit Valley. It was stupidly cold. Hello? Ma Nature? April? At any rate, I'd been told somewhere that sailors couldn't begin a journey on a Friday. Here are the reasons why - with all the bad luck available to sailors, maybe I *should* double that life insurance...The story about the British Navy trying to dispel the superstition by building a ship named HMS Friday? Urban legend, but a fun one.  So here we are. Saturday. I swear. We cast off Saturday. First port: Poulsbo for the release of Enemy Games!

Science Not So Fiction

My husband and I live aboard a sailing catamaran most of the year. Yesterday, I discovered water in the port bilge. These boats aren't supposed to have water in the bilges. The joke is that you clean the bilges of these boats with a hand broom and a dustpan. Fortunately, I know where this water is coming from - the hotwater heater leaks when it's turned on. The chances of the boat sinking because of this leak are slim. This morning, while trying to cook my breakfast and boil water for that all important first cup of tea, I ran out of propane and had to grab the wrench and go switch out the tanks. This is a slightly hazardous job. Propane is a heavier than air gas and it is highly flammable. Boats blow up because of undetected propane leaks and a single stray spark. My point? The whole living aboard the boat thing has given me new respect for the notion of spacefaring in a self-contained craft. This boat is three years old, yet we already have a list of kludges and fixes (and a list of those things which may be safely ignored - like the water heater leak) so that we can operate. This is only a sailboat. Our margin for error is really pretty big. Can you imagine trying to keep a boat in repair and in shape in space? Mess something up there and it's possible you won't be able to breathe. Leaks in zero-g would be catastrophic. Sure, my fresh water leak is inconvenient and wasteful, but all I have to do is put into a dock, grab a hose and refill my tanks. What are my options in outer space if one of my fuel tanks or water tanks springs a leak? Or worse - one of my O2 generators blows out? Yeah. In some of my books, the science fiction surrounding some of the stuff that goes wrong with space craft isn't entirely fiction after all.