30 June 2020
"How's the air con"
That was Tom's greeting this morning as we arrived at the entry to the Corona Express ferry to the big island. After being zapped by the temperature gun I turned to Tom and through my trendy Batik designed face mask told him that the installation had progressed successfully but still too early to tell whether it's been beneficial either in temperature or relative humidity.
You see, over our first Cockpit Corona Sundowner since, what, December, Michael, who knows about these things, had told us that as our domestic air con unit was sucking in ambient air, recycling was inefficient and all the unit's energy was being consumed converting humid air rather than cooling it. All way above my pay grade but I could do the DIY to give it a go and so we're now fully plugged in and hosed up to give us super efficient on board environment management.
What have we come to? I think it's an unknown side effect of COVID-19. We've all sailed thousands and thousands of miles to get here, fought our way through gales, giant seas, putting in first, second, even third reefs with waves crashing over the decks. We’ve navigated our way through unmarked intricate, fibreglass ripping reefs and shoals. We've spent countless nights at anchor in all conditions, yet, here we are - all but epoxied to the dock, hard wired and plumbed, comparing notes on our air conditioning! Aaaargh.
Gone are the days when us hardened yotties would be swapping salty tall tales and comparing notes, experiences and opinions on proper yottie subjects like, for example, anchors.
"Oh? You've got one of these RockBaby anchors". I'd heard the wobble bar makes them unstable and if the boat turns on the tide change then re-setting can be an issue. I've heard of two boats that dragged in only five knots of wind. You'd be much better with the Spatula. Its 3D shape is specifically designed to dig in to anything wet. Ours held us in eighty knots on a scope of 2:1 lavatory plug chain".
Or maybe solar panels. "Oh! You've only got a 200/30 ZigZog phase composer driving your ampler-doodle". You definitely need a manual over ride to compensate for shadows and passing birds......" yawn, yawn. Lost me at hello.
The funny thing is, you seldom hear anyone talking about sails, let alone in mast reefing. Now there's a topic worth debate. I mean, seriously, I know as children we drew sails on a boat as a shapeless white two dimensional triangle, but that's not really how they're meant to look. But they do. I think it's where apprentice sailmakers spend their first year.
"Right you two. See that sail cloth over there? Unroll it, cut it up into a nice triangle then sew it all together."
I mean, how can folk bear to look at these shapeless things? That arrow straight leach running from boom end to the top of the mast, fluttering like a football flag mounted on a supporter's car window doing sixty miles an hour. In fact, the only time they get some shape is in the second or third year after they've been stretched both enhancing the amount of flutter AND forming a nice bag in the middle. Then of course it all jams half in, half out.
So dear readers, having no doubt insulted all my pals with in-mast reefing, I'm going back to tweak the air-con. I think we need to bring it down just a tad as my brain has overheated. Or maybe I'm just old fashioned and should get a gaff rigged Cornish Crabber.
And maybe I can look forward to some reaction. It would be nice to know someone reads this nonsense.