The yard routine. It’s not my fave.
Our days begin at 6. We scramble to do anything requiring water before the yard guys arrive at 8. Once they start working, running water is off limits, so our sink/cockpit/bilge drains don’t rain down on them while they work.
After coffee/tea/breakfast (and running water) we get to work on our projects. For me it’s all brightwork, all the time (stripping it, cleaning it, sanding it). Brian’s tackling a hodgepodge of projects – the latest – replacing/rebedding the hardware on the transom (back of the boat) has him crawling into all kinds of nooks and crannies + hanging from the ladder with a saw.
Both our backs ache from hunching over one thing for too long. I’m speckled with burns from the heat gun and Brian’s ankle is swollen up because something heavy fell on it. The boat doesn’t love the yard, and this is her way of letting us know. Thanks Nighty. We get it.
By 3, the sun is at a perfect, scorching angle, and our progress crawls to a halt. We hit the yard shower, to de-grossify from the day. At 5, we are basically ready for bed, but we force ourselves to stay awake because: adulthood. A few nights ago, we slipped away for tacos at the nearby marina, where we happily reunited with Jenn, John, and Jack of Corpse Pounder, and last night Peter and Mary on Neko coaxed us out of the yard, fed us, and taught us to play Mexican Train dominoes. Thanks friends – without you we’d surely become yard trolls.
Here are a few photo highlights – yeah, I guess I can call them highlights – from these past few days in the yard:
Meanwhile, down below, the yard guys are almost done sanding! I was pleased that they haven’t found a single blister in the fiberglass – something that is common with boats her age.