The lawn is turning a lovely shade of water-me-brown. For the sake of the grass, part of me wants the skies to open up and rain like the devil. Another part of me says: “the heck with the lawn, bring on the sunshine! That’s why they invented sprinklers.” This is the fourth pissa weekend in a row!
We load up our bikes like pack mules and head out to the boat. It’s only a few blocks away, but with all the stuff we haul, it’s so much easier than walking, and way more fun!
I’ve got some maintenance and other projects to work on, and the Executive Officer is anxious to commission her own personal command, sailing vessel Windsey, so we decide to stay right here in Wareham, floating off beautiful Swifts Neck, firmly attached to our mooring.

Pack mule?

More fun than walking!

Dinghy Salty II awaits.

Once on board, my first order of business is to check out Ginger Lee’s batteries. I’ve been having a few problems: low voltage alarms, dim lights, sluggish engine starts, stuff like that.After checking each of the five large marine service batteries, I soon discover one of them is totally defunct, and bringing the whole system down. I yanked that sucker outta there like a bad tooth. The next order of business is to figure out why the solar panel stopped working.After taking the solar panel apart, I find a bad solder joint. No problem! I repair it with my new butane powered soldering iron. I’m on a roll! The next thing on my to-do list is to service the starboard rudder stuffing box, which is a kind of seal where the rudder shaft goes through the hull underwater. It’s way out of adjustment, letting in a steady stream of sea water, overworking the bilge pumps, and draining the batteries. Without a working solar panel to recharge them, it’s probably why the weakest battery bit the dust. While adjusting the stuffing box, I discover one of the rear bilge pumps isn’t working. I trace the problem to a bad wire and fix that as well.

The bilge master.

A boat is like a living organism; all systems depend on each other for good health. I’m just glad I discovered problems here, at the home mooring, instead of some far away port. This is why, every once in a while, I like to poke around in the engine room, aft deck bilge area, and every place that can be poked. I keep a large tool box on board so I can handle anything that needs handling.

Lift crane and winch.

The other thing I’m working on is our new lift crane winch system. Since we added an aft deck hard-top, we needed a way to get our folding bicycles, and a portable generator up into the fly-bridge, which has lots of storage space. As a safety measure, I designed it to be strong enough to lift the dead weight of an unconcious person out of the water. I hope I never have to test the limits of my design that way.
Enough of this work stuff. It’s time for lunch, and a cold beer!

The X.O. rigs sail.

WINDSEY takes off.

The Executive Officer readies her sailboat and takes command. Wind filled the sail and she took off so fast it made me gasp. In a heartbeat Windsey was a football field away.
Mid afternoon we take the dinghy into Wareham Harbor to see the WAR OF 1812 ATTACK ON WAREHAM RE-ENACTMENT. It’s part of the CELEBRATE WAREHAM festivities taking place at various times during the summer.

The Redcoats invade Wareham!

The Wareham Minutemen stand their ground.

The  British are banished. Note Minutemen guarding The Narrows bar.  Save the booze!

Nantucket light ship in Wareham Harbor.

Lee and his dog Taz stop by for a visit.

the X.O. at the helm of KAYAN.

An Osprey heads home.

What a gorgeous day. I feel like I’m living in paradise.
As the daylight fades to atomic red, the number of beachgoers dwindle, until only a few diehards remain to witness the sunset. They clutch together on the sand in their folding chairs and hoodies, until the cool night air sweeps in and chases them home. Overhead, we hear the familiar “cheeope-cheeope-cheeope” of a lone Osprey calling it a day as well. I am sure we are the only people staying the night on a boat in this whole mooring field. We always are.
The night brings a pleasing calmness to the water, as if Neptune himself has laid down his trident for the evening. The only sounds are the occasional muffled conversations from the nearby cottages, and the quiet swishing of water against the hull. There’s nothing quite like it.

Swifts Neck sunset.