Jenna With Winch

June 30

Bugger! End of June already. Where do da time go?

Went ashore to dump trash and find manifold assembly parts to replace current one suspected of allowing air to enter pressure water system (due inappropriate gate valves) and to buy replacements for little springs and pawls to be lost during imminent equipment maintenance. Previous statement is slightly misleading as parts are lost or broken when disassembling gear only if no spares are at hand. In this case, outrageously expensive bits were available, but left on the shelf, partially appeasing gods responsible for this phenomenon. Found some, but not all pieces that will (he says hopefully) alleviate spitting faucets.

While thusly engaged, met several newly arrived friends on shore for the express purposes of clearing customs and luring me to a Texmex margarita. Peer pressure, however, was ineffective against a steely resolve to hack the day's mission. Chicken burrito was washed down with a colorless, tasteless liquid while others imbibed more aggreeable substances.

Being clean and sober allowed servicing most winches in an afternoon, including hours of lubrication, rubbing and delicate hand work. Despite any implication, Cal & Lora, my non-sailingest (not a real word) friends, moral stigma is rarely attached to this duty. Your old maid aunt (everybody should have one) could observe even the self-tailers with equanimity, disregarding periodic expletives, of course.

Sucky weather (archaic maritime phrase used to describe wind at 25 with 40 knot squalls and 10 foot seas) to pin normally intrepid sailors in protected harbor until, possibly, next week.

Jack