Boat Trip

Heliotrope around from Gore to Mugde.  

Pretty grim start, what with hot sun and no wind. We caught a few zephyrs as we got out of Gore Bay. But then once through the Clapperton channel and into Mudge Bay we caught a nice south-westerly.

Mark, Norm's yard assistant, turned out to be a fine mate. He is the recent owner of an old 33 foot steel sailboat, for which he has big plans. Oddly enough, today was his first time sailing, ever. But he is a quick and willing student, so I think he will be sailing his own boat, to distant shores, someday.

Ever so much fun figuring out and using the new electronics. First, I was astonished to see that it all worked. Then I was astonished to see all that it can do.

Sunny and hot. I was fried by the end of the trip, but apparently everyone else was too. How about a little global cooling, please.

In The Water

Both boat and personnel.  

Heliotrope splashed down easy. (Actually, Norm had her in the water even before we arrived in Gore Bay—that's Norm for you.) Engine fired up first turn of the key.

Note the rather small black box affixed to the mizzen mast. That's the new instrument cluster, replacing the big oblong nacelle we've all known the past 38 years. This little black box is NMEA 2000 and displays wind direction and speed, tacking lay lines, depth, speed over the bottom, heading, and location. It's a chart plotter, too, so it always displays the boat's position on the relevant chart and can navigate routes and mark a man overboard (MOB). Among other things.

The old girl is looking young and frisky. New batteries, newly painted spars, new self-tailing winches (last year) new electronics, and attractive brightwork, thanks to Sue.

Could be time to go sailing.

Also time to go swimming. Sunny, hot, and windless, again today, with the horseflies having a heyday. We had to lie low from one to four to avoid sunstroke and fly-bite. But then at five, we went for a dip. Perfect. 

It's Summer

Sunny, hot, and windless.  Ideal horsefly weather, and they are making the most of it.  Lovely sit on the lower deck before dinner. Now, as I write, a bit of a breeze from the west cooling things off nicely. 

Not a rolling stone.

Once and future ducks. Up behind the garage, of all places, but unbothered by Pax.

All boat work done, and ready for tomorrow's launch. 

Three Sheets

Not really.  Just the two jib sheets attached to Heliotrope's genoa. Her three sails have been bent on, and almost everything else has been done preparatory to a Friday launch. 

Pax got really stinky prior to getting into the truck with us on the way to Gore Bay. When we got back, Sue removed several unidentifiable but particularly pungent items from the shoreline. No time for bath today, so a little ostracization until a shower bright and early tomorrow.

Day's Eyes

Found this avian carcass on the front deck this morning, and sad to see it, too. My guess is that it's a black and white warbler and that it hit one of the windows going a little too fast.

All In A Day

Back on the Island. Long but manageable drive.  

Everything looks good. And, delightfully, enough chill in  the place to require a fire in the stove.

Another Party

This time in Whitewater.  With Will, Katy, Abby and Tony coming down for some afternoon fun and then dinner out.

Packing now for early Kagawong departure.

An important speech given recently by Ken Burns at the Stanford commencement. Well worth reading (or watching). Thanks to John for this tip.

Another Party

This time at the Nies estate in Oconomowoc.  Complete with ribs from the Big Green Egg and a baseball game.

Here Ellie is writing up the day's events (including our long bike ride) in her journal

Also on the program, a few magic tricks, and other circus acts.

Beautiful day—cloudy through noon but then clearing, and pleasantly cool.

Big Party

At the Janowiec's, with the Nieses and the Morrisons.  

Hot and humid.  

To The Zoo

With all five grandkids, and their moms.  

Good for us, we went early. That meant we were leaving (about one) just as the temperature was reaching discomfort levels. The Milwaukee County Zoo is a fun place, and these five kids know it well, and they all stayed out of the gorilla cage.

Sunny, humid, and much too hot. A heavy thunderstorm last night (for me, the first of the season) with about 2.5 inches of rain in about 2 hours. An alarm on cell phones about 1:00 AM with a flash flood warning. But by that time Pax was already in the basement (and Sue, too, just to keep him company). The only flashes after all, lightning.

First Fireflies

Occasional light showers.  

Attended Will's pre-school graduation party at the JCC. Then Japanese takeout at the Foxpoint homestead.

Ellie and Katy had their last day of 5-K today. Maddie wrapped up her pre-school career yesterday. And Becca is looking still looking forward to her academic career.

Just In Time

Yard tamed and errands run just in time for a little picnic with our Whitewater friends.  

Ribs slow cooked on the Green Egg, potato salad, and Grammie's beans. Followed by three games of Sequence.

Jungle

Leave a yard for five weeks in the spring and that's what you get.  

Mostly cloudy with a lovely, cool north wind—not what I expected, but perfect for planting the garden and for trimming the jungle—and some long dog walks.

Pax did well, apparently delighted to be back on familiar olfactory pathways. No limping over a long distance. I'm glad to have my Whitewater walking pal back in condition.

Road Weary

Back in Whitewater, with a brief stop in Fox Point for a bike ride and a bite to eat, and to pick up our plants (squash, tomatoes, peppers, etc. started by Ab).

A parade of little thunderstorms all the way from the Soo to Milwaukee. Dramatic clouds, and pretty good rain too.

Good Rain

Moderate and steady for three or four hours. Misty and drizzling all day. No runoff, no flooding-- just a nice soaking. Beets and kale up in the garden along with beans and cucumbers. Peas starting to climb the walls.  

All packed for early departure tomorrow. It's been a fine five weeks, gone by far too fast.  

Entre Les Ètoiles...

...Star flowers that is, lighting up the forest floor.

Also, this is the time of year for for bunchberry, the earliest anemones, and brave lady slippers.

Also, horseflies. The black-flies are gone, and the mosquitoes have been insignificant (thanks to the drought), but the deer-flies are flying. Horse/deer-flies like sun and attack from above. So, a good hat is a necessity, and shade is a friend.

For us...a day of puttering and recreation: poison ivy control, gardening, truck washing, a fine sail on the Windrider, and a walk through the woods from Murray and Elaine's to here. Sippy-cups on the deck, then a fine stir-fry, and then an episode of Suits.

All we could possibly ask for is rain.

Photo courtesy of Sue.

Bateau Poli

A full day of boat work.  

Washing, waxing, wiping. Buffing and polishing. Cetol-ing. All the basic stuff, now that we are done with the masts and electronics. Whoever said, "Sailing is like standing fully clothed in a cold shower while tearing up hundred dollar bills," (Cornelius Vanderbilt, I think) obviously did not have to do his own boat work. Otherwise he would have mentioned sweating in the hot sun, straining to buff the topsides.

But, we are done (except for the transducer), and Heliotrope is launch ready!

We did break for lunch (provided by Buoy's) in a rather idyllic setting. And we did attempt to meet the nap requirement by pushing sails and anchor lines aside to find a few minutes of horizontal space below decks (while Pax napped at keel level). And we did chat (from time to time) with other boaters.

BTW, for those not familiar with boating terminology, a deck is a complete set of playing cards.

Another Fine Day

A little rain last night, a lot of sun today. Strong west wind blowing any bugs past Ottawa.  

Mother Nature's rain gauge—just a poplar leaf lying on the Lane.

A little house work, a little boat work.

It turns out that the depth finder I so carefully installed is not the right device, not NMEA 2000. Bad advice from the sales rep who sold it to me. So, now I get to rip the dang thing out, pay for a new one (which looks just the same as the old one), and enjoy the installation process once again.

But not to worry. This sort of thing is just one of the joys of boating.

NMEA 2000

Getting the new electronics working on Heliotrope.  

Great blue heron over a blue Mudge Bay.

New masthead wind speed and direction sensor, new depth finder, and new GPSMap chartplotter and sensor display all installed (with cables running down one mast through several bulkheads, and up another mast) and connected up to an NMEA bus. But not easy. One problem being the boat's original wiring, which turns out to be backwards from what is conventional (boat built in Japan in 1978 where/when black was positive and white was neg). It took a few blown fuses to figure that one out. And then the supposedly NMEA compliant depth finder has a plug at the end of the long cable I snaked through the bilge that doesn't fit the NMEA bus. I'm hoping there's an adapter.

Overall, nice, smart work by Norm. What I really like about Norm is that he never panics, never freaks out—even when nothing works and nothing makes any sense. His great experience and great mechanical aptitude never fail to assure him that there is always a solution.

Clouds most of the day, staving off more sunstroke, and a little light rain right now.

Sticks Back Up

While Sue worked away cottage-side, finishing up and cleaning up, I worked with Norm to get Heliotrope's masts back up.  

Stepping masts is a nervous-making, technical challenge—dealing with heavy loads and high heights and minute adjustments. (But, really, what could be more fun?) (Note the new wind instrument at the top of the mainmast.) The next challenge will be connecting all the wiring and electronics. Will the anchor light work? The strobe? The spreader lights? The radio? Will the new masthead wind instrument display useful data on the new display?

We'll see.

Buttercups

Lovely day, with a powerful west wind and cottonball clouds in a cerulean sky.  

The last upstairs bedroom is finished—trimmed and painted. And that means the entire interior of the house is finished. A milestone. All that's left is the porch. 

As I was mowing the patch of lawn over the weeping bed—recent moisture has actually got the grass (and other things) growing—I glimpsed Pax moving fast downslope toward the water with something big dangling from his jaws. I left the mower and hustled after, but by the time I got to the shore all I foiund was Pax swimming. No sign of any victim. Decidedly odd—Pax prefers wading to swimming, and I know I saw something.