Every cruiser who is not a professional boat-builder quickly learns that anytime you, or someone else, estimates how long it will take you to complete a complex boat project, take that period and double, triple, or even quadruple it. It is not necessarily that we are incompetent or that our daily hours are so shortened by morning exercise regimens and evening social gatherings, but there are some legitimate excuses. For example, having to walk, rather than drive, across town to buy extra parts or replacement tools will kill half a morning; searching for tools or equipment that will fit a US boat which has almost everything in Imperial units (inches, etc.) while staying in a (sensibly) metric country; dropped items are probably lost forever in the bottom of bay or some inaccessible recess of the bilges; large amounts of stuff have to be moved twice a day to get the tools from their lockers or to access the work-area while restoring the disrupted bed/seat/galley/cockpit to a livable condition for the rest of the day; and it can take time to contort oneself to reach equipment in places on the boat with awkward access and even longer to unfold oneself afterwards. Anyway, you probably get the picture.

More than a year after ordering our new Susie (self-steering wind-vane), which was to replace the second-hand one that shattered on our way from Mexico to French Polynesia, we finally got it aboard Tregoning and were ready to install it on the stern. We had assumed that this would be a task most easily accomplished after Tregoning had been hauled-out and was in the boatyard, but the instructions recommended installation while the boat was in the water. So after backing-into a new slip at the marina where we could pull the stern of the boat right up to the floating dock, we took off the broken unit and started installing our shiny new Monitor. I say "we" recognizing that Randall does most of the work that involves wielding tools but this turns out to be a fairly "gopher"-intensive project, with me having to "go for" parts and tools on a frequent basis and also having to pull on ropes, hold up the Monitor's frame, and assorted other apprentice duties, so I was not able to accomplish much else during this period.

Kevin, the local agent through whom we had ordered the Monitor from the US and who kindly stored it for us for almost year, said that installation should only take him a couple of days. Note the italics... We are currently on Day Six. Granted, he has done this before so he does not need to read the instructions as frequently as we do, and he probably has newer and sharper tools than we do for drilling into stainless steel but, even so, every step of the process seems to be fraught with unexpected delays.

For example, where the instructions glibly state, "Loosen the ropes again and make the frame slide back in order to bring the upper tubes out of their sockets." It turns out that the key word here is "make". Otherwise, this sounds like a couple of quick, smooth actions (loosen the ropes = 2 minutes and sliding the frame back = 1 minute). However, for us to "make the frame slide back" actually took about two hours. Sure, we loosened the ropes nice and quickly but there was no easy sliding. Instead, we had to disassemble all of the supports that we had been constructing that attach the frame to the boat and participate in a grunting, cursing, tug-of-war as Randall tried to heave the tightly jammed upper tubes out of the sockets on the frame. And so it goes, with the mid-summer sun beating down on us and the unshaded concrete dock. Oh well, enough of this whining and back to making supportive noises while Randall fights to drill through four layers of stainless steel tubing with a cordless drill, rapidly dulling bits, and sitting on the tubes to imitate a vice.

Perhaps part of the frustration at our slow rate of progress relates to the fine weather and working out on the dock where we are very aware of the comings and goings of all of the other boaters. There have been many happy people walking down the docks with provisions for a weekend, week, or month or two of cruising, and plenty of small boats have been tying-up for a night in town, mid-boating-vacation.

Seeing those boats and crews come in from, or heading out to, the bays and islands instantly stirs a visceral desire to be gunkholing again (gunkholing = leisurely cruising from one anchorage or small marina to another). Seeing other boats in the marina, even though they are kitted out for blue-water cruising like Tregoning, does not evoke this strong yearning, just as seeing moored or marina-bound boats in the US and UK did not fill me with impatience to be back on Tregoning. But whenever we saw a sailboat at anchor in a cove or cruising along towing a dinghy, I was instantly filled with memories of gunkholing in the San Juan Islands, the San Blas Archipelago, the Bras d'Or Lakes, the Society Islands, Southeastern Alaska, Las Perlas, the Exumas, the Sea of Cortez, or the Vava'u Group, and I was painfully ready to back out there.

Before we can goof-off again and go sailing we have several more "mission-critical" projects to accomplish. These include trying to use fiberglass to seal a very slow leak from one of our aluminum water tanks. After much work on Randall's part to remove the wooden counter surrounding the tank, we found the slow drip at a point on the flat, bottom-surface of the tank, which is rather discouraging as it does not bode well for the development of additional leaks. Still, rather than try to replace the whole tank now (which will be a major operation as the tank will not fit through the companionway without being cut into smaller pieces, having been installed in the hull before the deck was attached), we will try this leak-fix and anticipate having to order a custom-made plastic tank at some point in the future.



The leaking aluminum water tank, exposed after Randall removed the workbench, associated shelves, and cabinets

Another leak-related project is reversing the Plexiglass in most of our portlights (windows). This should eliminate the slow leaks in the middle of the bottom of the portlight where the Plexiglass has warped away from the frame over time. And when we get Tregoning hauled-out into a boatyard later in the month, there will be: applying new bottom-paint; fixing two, above-water through-hull hose-fittings; adding a new turning-block to the top of the mast for the asymmetrical spinnaker halyard; and goodness knows what other unexpected project will be revealed when we can finally see the hull. But after all that...well, then we hope to go cruising along the north coast of New Zealand's North Island and actually use the sails for the first time since November 2015...yeeha!