Lemons

by on in Recipes

“I must know.” –Buttercup
“Get used to disappointment.” –Westley, from The Princess Bride

I have a bag of lemon drops in my “junk” drawer in the galley. These are no ordinary sweets; they are symbolic and sacred. We’ve all heard the proverb, “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” If any of our children receives a hard knock or has an unpleasant task ahead and takes it with a good attitude, I hand out a lemon drop as a reminder that although we can’t always choose our circumstances, we can choose our response.  Disappointment is part of life on planet earth. The sooner children learn to accept this and move on, the better. Flexibility is a trait that can be cultivated when plans change.

Today we were supposed to get on an airplane in Ft. Lauderdale and fly to Boston, and then drive to Sugarloaf Ski Resort in Maine for a week of snow fun. Our children have never seen real snow (the oldest were babies when it last snowed in Atlanta and don’t remember it), so this was to be a real treat—we were looking forward to skiing, skating, sledding, snowboarding, snowshoeing, snowmen, snowball fights, snow angels, and hot cocoa in the lodge with snowy vistas out the window. Two days ago, one of our children came down with a stomach bug which is passing like wildfire through our family of seven, making a quick recovery impossible. Because these were reward tickets from Jay’s work travel, they were not easily re-booked. In short, we had to cancel our trip.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel sad and disappointed. Aside from the loss of our snow vacation, we were to stay with my best friend from college in Maine, and now I won’t get to see her and her family. We were planning to go see Old Ironsides (the U.S.S. Constitution), which is moored in Boston Harbor, and had done a mini-unit-study in preparation and now that’s for naught, too.  Our illness is having a detrimental impact on my mother-in-law’s plans, as well. She had come to spend a quiet ten days here cat- and boat-sitting for us, and now she’s stuck here with a sick family, afraid to go home and expose Jay’s dad, a CPA in the throes of tax season, to what we have.

But after shedding my initial tears of disappointment, I reminded myself, and the children, that everything happens for a reason. We may not be privy to the reason, but we remain thankful in all circumstances. That’s part of our family code, based on the belief that God knows what’s best and can see things we can’t see. Remembering that helps us to let go of our expectations and look forward to what He has for us instead. I don’t yet know what it is, but it seems that we are to be here and not there for some reason. That, in part, is why I always say, “Lord willing” about any of our plans. I’m not being cynical, just realistic. If our sailing life has taught us anything, it is that you go when the weather is good, and you stay when it’s not. And weather, like other plans, can change very quickly, so you have to be alert and prepared for anything. That’s the adventure part of our life.

What adventure will this unexpected “lemon” bring us? How are we going to turn it into lemonade? I’ll keep you posted… 

Don’t Just Survive—THRIVE!

by on in Recipes

Have you ever shopped at the pink shack at one end of town only to find that you (literally) missed the boat and they’re all out of eggs and butter, then hiked over to the other end to the blue shack to find that all they have left is a limited selection of canned goods and some frozen mystery meat? Unless you’ve been to Staniel Cay in the Bahamas, chances are that you just got in your car and went to the local grocery and found whatever you needed. But if you do relate to the island shopping experience, you just accept that it’s part of the “adventure” and you’ll be substituting canned for fresh ‘till the boat comes in. For the landlubbers, all it takes to mimic the island grocery is a flood, hurricane or a big snowstorm—the shelves are wiped clean in just a few hours and won’t be restocked for many days. Unless you store large amounts of whole grains or canned goods, you’re going to be up a creek without breakfast, lunch or dinner!

Unless you are a serious “Prepper,” you have only a few days’ worth of few stored in your home, and what you have is probably frozen, dried or canned. I recently discovered that a friend of mine here in the Keys has a pantry full of freeze dried whole foods and when she brought some samples to Homeschool PE, I was amazed at the taste and freshness of food that has a shelf life of 25 years (unopened)! Amanda showed me the Shelf Reliance catalogue full of THRIVE Foods and when I found out she actually sells it, I decided to host a party in the marina so the other boaters around here could share my excitement at finding “the missing link” in our provisioning chain.

We carry about 200 pounds of grain on Take Two, which we grind in small batches (Oat Groats, 7-Grain Mix, Hard Red/White Wheat Berries for bread, and Soft Wheat Berries for pancakes, tortillas, and other baking). When we take long trips, we cram the freezer full of quality meats, and the auxiliary fridge full of dairy items and fresh produce and the canned goods locker full of beans, fruits and veggies. In addition, we carry dried fruits, beans, milk, pasta and rice. It doesn’t take long for things like eggs and milk to run out, and fresh produce doesn’t make it past week two. And boy, do I hate eating out of cans. Aside from sodium content, taste, and nutrient loss, there’s the worry of toxins in the cans or can linings themselves. And then you have cans filling up the trash. So how do we make sure we get good protein and enough fruits and veggies for long-term travel? That was a real problem, until now! We just put together a big Shelf Reliance order so we can try a little of everything, then slowly replace all our canned goods with freeze-dried THRIVE food.

The party at the Tiki was a great success. We sampled food straight from the cans—freeze dried strawberries, pineapple, bananas, sweet corn and vanilla yogurt bites. We served some easy recipes using freeze-dried ingredients, like spinach dip and chicken salad. We even cooked up a warm dish (wild rice with mushrooms and chicken) and served a dessert (granola dessert bar with berry compote). The products are well-labeled, color-coded, and easy to use. But it’s the taste that sells—one bite and you’re hooked. I have done some experiments on my own and discovered that freeze dried eggs make a great mayonnaise (who knew?) and work well as a substitute in recipes when you run out of the real thing. I made some crepes this morning for breakfast that were a revelation!

Whether, like Amanda, you live in a place with seasonal storms and “one road in and one road out,” or, like me, you live on a boat and need to carry your own grocery store with you, or maybe you love to camp and want to pack convenient and easy meals—I think you too might get excited about THRIVE foods. Right now, since I had the party this past week, if you want to give freeze dried a try, you can take advantage of event pricing until the end of February. I would encourage you to go to the website
www.amandab.shelfreliance.com and take a look at the catalogue. If you like what you see, you can order by calling Amanda (use the Contact Us form to request her #) and just mention that Tanya sent you her way.

Why just survive when you can THRIVE? Ten reasons to give it a try:

1. Lightweight and Easy to Store
2. Long Shelf Life
3. Whole Foods with Unadulterated Ingredients
4. Nutrient Retention
5. Great, Fresh Taste
6. No Toxic Can-Linings
7. Convenient and Easy to Use in Recipes
8. Shop From Home and Ship to Your Door
9. Cost Effectiveness and Reduced Waste
10. Go Shopping In Your Own Pantry for Fresh-Tasting Ingredients like Meat, Produce, and Dairy (Never run out of eggs again!)

Sleeping Under the Stars

by on in General

Ever since we moved aboard Take Two and de-cluttered our lives, birthdays are less about stuff and more about making a memory. Instead of asking the kids, “What do you want?” we ask, “What do you want to do?” Sam just turned six, and what he really wanted was a repeat of his fourth birthday, which we spent in the Bahamas, jumping and diving off of Take Two into beautiful warm water with friends we had made there. We told him it would be “weather dependent,” but we knew it was too cold and windy right now in the Keys for a wet birthday. Instead, we surprised him with a camping birthday weekend with his cousins.

Birthday Camping

The last time I went camping with my brother, he was Sam’s age, and we were sleeping in my dad’s old army tents in Rocky Mountain National Park. Now my brother and his wife have seven kids and two tents, a collection of cast iron pans, two large coolers, and a propane camp stove to boot. They are real campers. We, on the other hand, never go camping and had to borrow our friends’ tent, inflate some air mattresses, and set up camp in their backyard (they live in a state park). We pitched tents on a Friday afternoon and tried to figure out what the sleeping arrangements should be. I had assumed there would be very little sleeping going on, so we planned for maximum fun: all the kids (minus the babies and toddlers) in one tent. That’s the eight biggest kids, plus two of our friends’ kids, for a total of ten.

The birthday dawned sunny and bright, with the first of the kids making noise around 6 am. It was going to be a long day. We took the kids on a field trip to Pigeon Key—we thought we could wear them out by making them walk the last two miles of the old Seven-Mile Bridge, but, as it turns out, kids don’t wear out, but moms and dads do. At sunset, we gave away glowing bracelets and let the hooligans run wild in the dark. I think they were playing Cops and Robbers, but it sounded more like Cowboys and Indians. When everyone got hungry, we passed out roasting sticks and hot dogs. Nothing better than a meal cooked over an open fire. We then gathered around and set six marshmallows ablaze to sing Happy Birthday to Sam. And then the S’more factory went into high gear, with children roasting marshmallows faster than I could assemble graham crackers and chocolate. Yum…

Birthday Fire

After they were done around the fire, we sent "tired" kiddos into their tent. Backlit by the battery-powered lantern, you could see the silhouettes bouncing around like molecules of hot gas caught inside a balloon. It looked like the tent might explode at any moment. At some point, Sam escaped from a leak in the tent and came to sit with us, periodically placing logs on the fire and generally messing about with burning sticks. He has the makings of a pyromaniac, that one. He’s a wild child, full of life and exuberance and boundless energy. He’s a lot like Tigger, and I’m sometimes like Rabbit—while I’d like to remove some bounce, I would be lost without him.

Birthday Bouncing

As the fire burned low and the kids began to grow quiet, the grownups drank the last of their drinks, ate the last of the S’mores, rocked all the babies to sleep, and solved all the world’s problems by firelight. It was a birthday we’ll never forget.

Lying awake under the stars (slapping at No-see-ums which had snuck into our tent), I realized that the reason why we never go camping, aside from the fact that it’s uncomfortable and our tents are in storage, is that our regular life aboard contains enough of the Outdoor Adventure to sustain us through all the mundane parts of life like work, school, and chores. We have access to wide open spaces, the occasional deserted island where we can light a bonfire out of driftwood, kayaking, hiking, swimming, and a change in surroundings whenever we get the itch for something new. We don’t need to go camping to sleep out under the stars because there’s a hatch over each bed, giving us a nightly panorama of the cosmos. You might think we would become bored by this, but the constant change Nature provides keeps amazing us and infusing our normal lives with a sense of wonder.

Re-Inventing the Wheel

by on in Recipes

Any fool can go to the store and buy frozen waffles and make a perfectly good breakfast. But it takes a special kind of fool to make my recipe. First, you grind the grain and stir it into the batter. While you’re whisking that up, preheat the old-fashioned cast iron waffle pans (being careful not to burn yourself). Finally, cook up one waffle at a time, oiling the waffle irons between waffles, or else you end up with waffle crumbs for breakfast.  By the time everyone had gotten an egg, a piece of bacon and a pile of waffle crumbs this morning, I could have gone to the store, bought waffles, fixed breakfast and done the dishes. But what would be the fun of that?

We recently watched Tom Hanks’ character in the movie Cast Away make fire with sticks and coconut coir. His hands were bleeding by the time he got his first flames to ignite. He does a victory dance around the bonfire on the beach of the deserted island and boasts loudly to the stars about his creation. After his rescue, he picks up a lighter and clicks the button a few times with an ironic smile on his face. It’s so much more rewarding to do things the hard way.

We have the technology to make our lives easy—to get from point A to B at mind-boggling speeds, to feed our families with little or no effort, to do our most loathsome chores for us, and to entertain ourselves in all the hours we have left over after not hunting and foraging, sewing our own clothes and hand-washing our dishes. Unfortunately, without a little pain and suffering, we don’t seem to appreciate these fruits easily gathered, and without hard work we can’t enjoy that which should be rewarding. We end up with too much stuff and too much debt, leaving us feeling trapped and depressed. What should make our lives easy makes things more complicated, and, ironically, though harder, the simple life beckons.

Herein lies the dilemma of the Neo-Pioneer. A generation of young people has sprung up who are tired of resting on their laurels or on the accomplishments of others and want to try things the hard way. But where to begin? And once begun, where to stop? Some folks we know have left the citified life and are trying their hand at farming, others move out of the fancy house and into an RV or boat to try the simple life of a nomad, and many have opted to home-school their children, grow their own veggies, treat illnesses with herbs instead of antibiotics, read books instead of watching TV, make bread, build things with their hands, and in other ways learn the art of self-sufficiency.

Unfortunately, while many of us have degrees in Political Science or English or other Humanities, we have no earthly idea how to make something as easy as granola from scratch, let alone how to raise a chicken or fix a broken motor. I speak for myself, but many others as well, when I say that I’m getting an education just trying to teach my children these new old-fashioned skills. We’re learning together, a process that involves a lot of time and energy and varying amounts of pain on the way to that glorious sense of accomplishment.

Sometimes I go too far, finding an extreme while looking for balance. The things I do for my family often end up looking more like punishment. While I admire the purist who lives in a tent or a cabin of hand-hewn logs, eating only what he gathers or grows, or the sailor who lives by wind and stars alone and eats the fish he catches, I am also thankful for things like engines and electronic charts and grocery stores. I love my blender and vacuum sealer, and can’t imagine life before cell phones and computers. The trick, of course, is to find the place in the middle—somewhere between old-fashioned and new-fangled. And each pioneer has to find that place for himself. A glutton for punishment, I will keep trying to do things the hard way, asking the tough questions (Can a goat live on a boat? Should I sprout the grain before I grind it? Can Jay brew his own beer?) and writing about my experiments. For the next few weeks, at least, I’ll be making pancakes instead of waffles.

The Keys to Happiness

by on in General

This is our second stay in Boot Key Harbor (Marathon, FL), and after six weeks here, we have concluded that we like this place more than we did the first time. Because we were new to cruising the last time, I don’t think we knew what we were looking for. As the harbor fills up with winter visitors, we understand a little better what draws boaters here. We have discovered that it takes certain characteristics in our surroundings to make us love a place. While there’s no magic formula, we can rate a place based on the presence or absence of these factors. The presence of so many makes Marathon a favorite.

Good Weather—We live on a boat that is not “winter-friendly.” An old Norwegian adage says that there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes. If this is the case, then all of our closets and cubbies are filled with bad clothes. In either case, we like to head south when temperatures begin to drop below 60. Even living in middle-Florida, it can get cold at night. The Keys are a place we can winter without having to tie up to a dock and run space heaters or break out the down comforters. It is sunny and pleasant here most of the time, and there’s almost always a breeze, so that even on hot days it is comfortable in the cockpit.

Clean Water— After the Bahamas, the words “clean and clear” have new meaning. We’re a bit spoiled, I know, but even the less choosy would not use those words for Boot Key Harbor itself. It’s more like a marina than an anchorage, so we don’t really expect to jump in. The water is a murky green and people are constantly buzzing by in dinghies. We don’t even go in to clean the bottom. However, just a short ride out Sister’s Creek, one can find suitable water for swimming, snorkeling, fishing, or scrubbing the bottom. With Sombrero Reef nearby, we have a place to go play and enjoy our watery environment.
 
Islands with Beaches and Trees—The Keys are nothing but islands, and if there is a tree anywhere nearby, all you have to do is look up to find out where our kids have gone. Palm trees, mangroves, banyans—they’re not picky, and there seem to be plenty. And while beaches as we like them are scarce in the Keys, there are a few nice ones close to Marathon, the best of which, Sombrero, is accessible by dinghy and happens to have a great playground as well.

Friends/Community—It took us awhile to make friends here, but now that we have them, coming back to Marathon is like coming home. Most are also home-schooling families, so we’re on the same wave-length (or at least the same schedule). And every time we come, we expand that group of friends! Marathon itself has a very small-town feel to it; everyone knows everyone else. We like the familiar faces in the harbor—people who have lived on their boats here sometimes for decades—who are quirky and kind and add a lot of local flavor to the place. There’s something special about the boating community that reminds me of the neighborhoods of yesteryear when people actually sat on their front porches and everyone helped their neighbors.

Safe Places for the Children to Play—Aside from beaches and trees, this includes public parks and nature preserves. Marathon has a great Parks system, even hosting a Homeschool PE once a week, and there are plenty of places to get some fresh air and exercise. The park nearest the marina has tennis courts, a playground, soccer and baseball fields, a hockey/basketball court, and a skate park. And there are state parks on almost every key where you can go hiking or kayaking and get out in nature.

Low-Key, Family-Friendly Restaurants—Among our favorites here are the Hurricane, Burdines, and the Sunset Grill and Tiki Bar.  It’s hard to go wrong under a tiki bar, especially if there’s a pool where the kids can enjoy the water while the grown-ups have a drink. We keep discovering new places, and so far we haven’t found one that isn’t kid-friendly and low-key. In fact, I think that word was coined for the laid-back people of the Lower Keys!

Beautiful Natural Surroundings—This is not the prettiest anchorage in which we’ve ever stayed, but there is natural beauty around if you look for it. It’s easy to drop the kayak in the water and find mangrove tunnels to explore, or to go ashore and take nature walks, or to take the boat out and just enjoy the sparkling aquamarine water. You can’t beat the parks and preserves of the Keys for unspoiled beauty and wildlife.

Interesting History—No doubt about it, this place is interesting. A friend recently lent me a copy of Les Standiford’s The Last Train to Paradise, about Henry Flagler’s Overseas Railway, which opened the Keys to landlubbers and eventually led to the building of the Overseas Highway (a.k.a. US 1, which runs all the way to Key West). After reading that excellent book, I look at the drive from Miami to Marathon in a completely new way. There are all sorts of places to take the kids for field trips relating to the history of the Keys, not the least of which is Pigeon Key, a worker’s camp for those who built the miraculous Seven Mile Bridge.

Quiet Anchorages—Boot Key Harbor is not exactly quiet, nor is it precisely an anchorage. With our 68’ mast, ducking under a bridge to anchor in Florida Bay isn’t an option, and there is a serious shortage of safe, quiet places we can anchor our boat on the Atlantic side of the Keys. But the water here in the harbor is very still, and we have 360º of protection from weather. We feel safe enough to let the kids take the kayak out or borrow a little sailboat to putter around in. If we want to find a remote and quiet place, we can head west to Fort Jefferson at Dry Tortugas National Park, or hop in the Gulf Stream and head toward the Bahamas. At least we’re poised to do that in Boot Key Harbor. This is a great place to wait for a weather window, though there’s a running joke that people stop here for two weeks and end up staying two years.

Small Town/Walking Distance Amenities—It’s hard to have a cute little downtown district in the Keys because everything is built along the main drag. The islands are so narrow, there’s just no other way to do it. But what the town lacks in charm, it makes up for in convenience. This really is a boater-friendly community, and everything is relatively close to the City Marina. Within walking distance we have a library, a park, West Marine, Home Depot, a Chevron station, Walgreens, Publix, the Marathon Deli and Liquor Store, Salvation Army, Dive Shops and lots of little restaurants.

A Good Library—In order for me to call a library “good” it has to have friendly staff and a separate kid-welcoming room which houses the youth collections. Marathon’s public library, while small, meets those conditions. Any book they don’t have, the super-nice librarians are willing to help you find and order from another branch. I have always found what I needed there to keep our home-school running and the kids happily reading.

Access to Marine Services/Ability to Get Parts—Just having a place to pick up packages helps a lot, as Jay usually gets parts for projects from Amazon or Defender. In addition to the City Marina’s handy mailroom, there are so many boats in the Keys that there are also services galore—engine dealers and mechanics, water maker specialists and canvas shops. You name it, you can find it nearby. Except, of course, a place big enough to haul us out.

Freedom and Space—Although the city marina can pack 225 other boats into the mooring field, I really don’t feel crowded where we’re positioned. Living on a mooring ball is a lot freer and more spacious than being tied to a dock, although it is not quite the same as being anchored. There are still rules to follow, people to get along with, and competition for amenities like the laundry room and dinghy dock. But there’s also the ability, if one gets claustrophobic or tired of the neighbors, to simply let go of the ball, sail out of the harbor and get away for awhile. It’s that flexibility that gives the boating life part of its charm.

Although we have long-term goals of traveling throughout the Caribbean and coastal Central America (and who-knows-what beyond), we realize that while we still have very young children, we have to take baby steps. With family on the west coast and a great boatyard on the east coast, we will probably always use Florida as a home-base. The Keys are a logical stopping place to or from anywhere we are likely to go in the near future, and Marathon is one of the many places we like to call home.

Quiet Time

by on in Recipes

We may not always be models of quiet and decorum, but it absolutely astounds me the number of people who think that right before sunrise and right after sunset are perfect times to run their generators.  So I'd like to offer this rule of thumb for those who might be confused: If you look around the harbor and see that it is calm and peaceful and that a number of people are out enjoying the beginning or end of the day with a beverage and maybe a friend, that may not be the best time to run your @#$% generator!

We have a neighbor right now who for the last two days has fired up his very loud generator at around 7am and 7pm.  This morning I hopped in the dinghy to figure out who it was (I was leaving for work anyway) and found the culprit four boats away.  I thought for sure it would be an open frame gas generator being used under the cover of darkness.  To my surprise it was an inboard diesel generator.  But there was very little water in his exhaust, and there was a thin stream of water shooting out from higher up on the hull.  

This probably means that the water jacket on his exhaust elbow is clogged.  The stream of water is probably from a vent line to an anti-siphon loop in the raw water supply.  The water is supposed to mix with the exhaust gases to cool them and muffle the exhaust, but with the jacket clogged it has nowhere else to go.  In the meantime, his exhaust hoses are probably delaminating from the uncooled exhaust, and the engine is probably running very hot due to the restricted water flow.  If the generator is overheating, that may be why he runs it twice a day.

I now feel much more sympathetic toward this guy.  His generator shouldn't be that loud.  He probably doesn't know his exhaust is dry and he's pissing off half of the harbor.  I still maintain that it's better to run your generator during the day, but I suspect he's going to find out about his problem a whole lot faster this way.

Sailing Kids

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A friend in the harbor brought over a Minifish sailboat for us to play with the other day.  A Minifish is just like a Sunfish, only a little smaller.

I was skeptical at first, but before I knew it two kids hopped aboard and took off.  No encouragement, no pointers, no sage advice from dear old dad.  Poof.  Gone.  Like ducks on a junebug.

Sailing Kids

These kids live on a sailboat and have been around boats most of their lives, so I was pretty sure they knew which end was the front.  And they’d been to a 2-week sailing camp a couple years ago, where they learned on Optimist prams, so I figured they knew the basics of sailing.  But I’d never actually seen them do it.  And I did not expect them to do it with so much confidence.  Watching them zip around the harbor in that little boat puffed me up like a proud papa.

Something I found remarkable about all this is that they sail intuitively.  Like most things we try to teach them from books, they have disdain for sailing theory.  They don’t give a rip about the points of sail.  They probably couldn’t tell you the difference between a sprit and lateen rig.  If you try to explain it, they’ll fidget and roll their eyes.  But with a tiller in one hand and a sheet in the other, off they go.

Downwind

Charging Challenges

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The electrical system is arguably the most important system on Take Two.  When docked at a marina, the electricity we use comes to us through a shore power cord just like it would in a house.  The power is virtually unlimited and we can run heavy loads like air conditioning without giving a thought to how much we’re using.  But away from the dock, the only constant supply of power we have is from batteries with a limited capacity, and we have to use intermittent sources like generators and solar panels to recharge them.  Thinking about power is part of our daily life.

Our current setup is four Lifeline 8D absorbed glass mat (AGM) lead-acid batteries providing a 510 amp-hour (theoretical) capacity at 24 volts.  We charge the batteries through a pair of Trace PS 2524 inverter/chargers with a combined charging current of 130A.  The chargers are supplied by a split-phase 12kW Northern Lights diesel generator burning 0.4 gallons/hour.  

The generator is set up to be controlled by a GSCM from Atkinson Electronics.  We send start and shutdown signals to the GSCM from a Flexcharge programmable timer.  Automating the generator this way allows us a degree of flexibility to leave the boat unattended, but also helps keep things on schedule in case we aren’t paying attention.

We can monitor the battery state of charge with a Victron battery monitor.  It measures the current flowing in and out of the batteries and attempts to calculate how much capacity remains, and how much time until we have to charge.  The monitor also has relay outputs that we can use to manage the GSCM.  

For a while, we had things set up so the battery monitor decided when to start and stop the generator based on battery state of charge, and we used the timer to institute quiet times when the generator wasn’t allowed to run.  Practice showed that generator runs were longer and more consistent than we anticipated, and the monitor did not remain accurate for more than a couple days without a full recharge to synchronize it.  The straight timer approach proved simpler and more predictable.  

When you live on a boat you get tuned in to every sound and motion.  It can be a little nerve-wracking to have a big generator starting and stopping at random times.  Besides, we like being able to plan activities like running the vacuum cleaner and clothes washer for times when the power is “free”.

For the health of the batteries, they should never be discharged below 50% and really should always be charged back up to 100%.  But due to internal resistance, all lead-acid batteries heat up and accept less current as they approach a full charge.  So recharging to 100% takes a lot of time, about six hours for us.  This isn’t a generally a concern when unlimited shore power is available, but is impractical to do with a generator.  

Instead, we stop the big generator after charging for an hour and a half.  Typically the current being accepted by the batteries is below 40A by that point, which is about 80% full.  This is not great for the batteries, and we’re probably significantly decreasing their advertised life span (measured in discharge cycles).

We had hoped when we installed our 750W solar panel array that they would provide enough power to top up the batteries after the generator does the bulk charging, but it doesn’t really work out that way.  After the refrigeration and water maker loads, there isn’t much left for the batteries.

We would like to add a pair of wind generators to help out with this.  We’ve observed other boats’ turbines spinning away on cloudy days and dark nights with envy (and irritation).  But wind generators are not subtle things, and we have yet to figure out how to mount them unobtrusively on Take Two.

Instead, about once a week we fire up our little Honda 1000 gas generator to get a full charge on the batteries.  The Honda is inverter-based, meaning it is a DC generator that uses an inverter to form its AC output.  The boat’s chargers then turn that AC back into DC for the batteries.  While there is some loss from all these conversions, a DC generator is able to reduce its engine speed when demand is low, which saves fuel and makes it perfect for finish charging a lead-acid battery during its low-acceptance phase.  

AC generators like our big diesel must run at a constant speed regardless of load in order to make the correct line frequency.  And diesels like heavy loads.  So a light load on an AC diesel generator wastes fuel and wears on the engine.

The dilemma we face now is what to do with this situation.  We don’t particularly want to bite off any huge projects, so the answer may simply be that we keep on as we have been.  By far the cheapest option is to continue burning diesel.  But we may not have that option for long.  The generator is 13 years old and the inverter/chargers are 10.  

So as we near the end of life on some of our more expensive pieces of equipment, we need to at least have a strategy in mind for how we’re going to manage our power needs in the future.  And it would be really nice to replace something before it fails.  If our big generator were to die today we’d be in a real pinch to replace the power it provides.

The primary focus of our next electrical system will be to reduce our dependency on diesel and the machines that convert it to electricity.  That doesn’t necessarily mean that we expect to be rid of diesel entirely, but we want to use less of our fuel capacity for daily power, and we never want the failure of a single device to be catastrophic.  If we’re going to depend on a diesel generator, it will need some kind of equivalent backup.

I think there are several aspects to a full solution:

*  We should reduce our daily power usage.  We have no desire (and little ability) to become misers.  If anything, our personal usage is only going to go up as our kids get bigger; more food, more laundry, and more showers.  Our best opportunity to use less power is probably to upgrade our current AC-powered refrigeration to more efficient DC-powered units.  This would also reduce our need to have an inverter powered up 24/7.

*  We should increase our ability to charge from alternative (non-diesel) sources.  We already have a decent amount of solar, so wind seems like a logical next step.  

*  When our current batteries die, we should change to batteries that we can charge on our own terms without risk of damaging them.  I want the bank to have enough capacity that we don’t have to charge them every day, and can afford to wait for the sun to shine or the wind to blow.  When a generator is running, I want those batteries to take max charge current until they’re full.  No more of this acceptance rate business.  I think Lithium-Ion (LiFePO4) makes this possible.  

*  Finally, any future generator should be sized (and the corresponding chargers also), so that the engine operates at a healthy load and uses fuel efficiently.

Hopefully we have a while yet to ponder all of this, and won't have to do it all at one time.

Paddling Upstream

by on in General

Some people are content to float downstream, happy to “go with the flow,” accepting wherever it takes them. I sometimes I wish I could be like that. For better or worse, I tend to paddle upstream, fighting my way toward some nearly-impossible goal, sometimes hurting myself or others in the process. I don’t doubt that my sense of purpose and perseverance takes me far, but it also lands me in a heap of trouble.

When I left for Paris during college, my dad warned me to pack light and take a taxi from the airport. I packed heavy and got off the airplane ready to try my hand at public transportation in a foreign country, surrounded by strangers speaking a language I had not mastered. Right…you can guess how that ended. I reached my destination safely, but with no small loss of blood, sweat and tears. Once I got some “free mulch” from a neighbor, and all I had to do was go get it. It seemed so easy at the outset—but the shovel and wheelbarrow weren’t getting the job done fast enough. So I used my minivan as a truck and loaded up the back. Six hours later and with a terrible mess in the back of my mom-car, I finished what I had started. But that mulch was decidedly not free. And Jay ended up cleaning up my mess.

Today I set out in the kayak to explore in Sister’s Creek. It was a bit blustery, and I lost my kayak partner to a mysterious rash. So I went alone, and after twenty minutes of fighting, I finally got into still water and had a moment to breathe and think about what I was doing. I realized that the way I approach kayaking is a great illustration for life. Sometimes paddling upstream has paid off beautifully—in the Bahamas, my fearless crew and I fought hard to get past the pull of the tide to find the blue hole in the Bight of Old Robinson, and after our explore, we simply drifted back the way we had come earlier, over upside-down jellyfish beds and shallow coral reefs—the breathtaking beauty and relaxation well worth the hard work. Other times, I have fought a hard battle against the pull of water and wind for very little reward. I should have turned the kayak around early on and admitted that we weren’t having fun. I mean, isn’t that what it was for to begin with?

Once I get that tunnel-vision about a project or a relationship, I seem to lose sight of what the thing was for. In my rush upstream, I leave all caution behind and my wake is littered with misery and madness. As I contemplate the year’s end and make goals for the next one, I realize I learned a lesson in my kayak this morning. Once I reached the still water, I decided I didn’t want to fight anymore, and turned around to head for home, wind and waves at my back. I think I’m coming to a place in my life where I don’t need to try so hard, but to rest and trust more. I see this in my relationships with my children especially. As they get older, a heavy hand can crush the relationship it was trying to create. It might be time to turn that kayak around and enjoy a downwind run.

It Takes Two to Make a Thing Go Right

by on in General

A man who is not afraid of the sea will soon be drowned…for he will be going out on a day he shouldn’t. But we do be afraid of the sea, and we do only be drownded now and again. –John Synge

When we bought Take Two, she already had her name, and even though we’re not particularly superstitious, we decided not to rename her. She was the second boat we thought seriously about buying—the first having slipped through our fingers as we dawdled and debated—so in many ways, she represented a second chance at success. Since that time, some folks suggested that we should have renamed her “Take Six,” but then we added another crew member. It’s too much work to keep scraping off the old number and applying a new one, so that’s out. Besides, it only took two to make the rest of the crew.

Last week as we attempted to leave Fort Pierce, a new meaning for the name of our vessel became apparent. We headed out the pass against the current (we had been trying to make it out at slack tide, but missed), and then slammed straight into 6-9 foot confused waves that wreaked havoc on our interior. Oops, forgot to duct-tape the refrigerator door…and take everything off of the galley counters. We’re a catamaran, so we sometimes forget that sort of thing. Actually, we make it a point to never set sail in weather that rings our ship’s bell or causes the drawers to fly open. The fact is, we didn’t know what we were going to find, so we decided to take an exploratory look. Needless to say, we did not like what we saw, so we headed back to anchor and wait for better conditions. This is a familiar scenario. When we left Bradenton, the same thing happened. It seems to always take two tries for us to leave.

The first try requires a colossal amount of energy and courage, for whatever reason. Once we get entrenched in a place, we really struggle to untie the boat. Once that first hurdle is overcome, we spend at least one night at anchor to acclimate and help us get an earlier start. Then, with trepidation, we head out after sunrise to find out what kind of travel day we’re going to have. If it looks like a long, miserable day, we turn around. That’s why we never sail on a schedule. After the harrowing experience of take one, take two usually finds us more prepared, less nervous, and relieved when our patience pays off and we get the conditions we were waiting for.

So after a week of waiting on the hook in Fort Pierce, we tried our luck again on Sunday and were happy to find calmer seas. By the time we reached the Keys, the wind was cooperating and we had a great sail to Marathon, where Take Two will be moored for the winter months.