That sinking and soggy feeling

We arrived back home to Pachina Mia and found she had weathered the latest Newfoundland winter well. Her new winter cover remained intact, and everything seemed pretty good on board. Fred the killer watch dog had done his duty well, so all I had to do was reassemble the electrical system, and we were ready to move on board.

All seemed well… which is always a bad sign in the boating life. And true to superstitious form, we soon noticed a drip coming off the lowest point of our keel. How odd, says we. The boat has been high and dry for months. How could it be dripping?

Turns out our mighty 6-ton keel had somehow taken up a fair bit of water. So now we had two challenges. The first was to get the water out, and the second was to patch the leaking area. Sounds easy right?

Unfortunately, Newfoundland was experiencing the worst Spring on record; cold, rainy and generally crap conditions, making work nearly impossible. Simply put, it’s damn hard to drain a keel in the rain, and you can’t set epoxy and fibreglass when it’s wet, or in the cold.

We had weeks of both, so we spent a lot of time in the clubhouse, staying warm and dry.

But all things must pass, and we eventually got enough semi-dry and semi-warm days to get the job done. This was largely to the great guidance and assistance of fellow boater and good friend Mark, who has earned his doctorate in recreational boating fibreglass by basically building his own sailboat.

Work progressed slowly, but luckily there was plenty to keep us occupied and entertained. We even joined in on various events; some planned and some rather impromptu. There was a big “Welcome Back” dinner put on by the club. And there was great little jam session with two great guitar players: Terry and Eric. Eric, on the right, is a singer song-writer. He has two albums, which he kindly gifted to us. What a lovely gift!

Since Mark was gunning for Labrador this season, he had been working like a press-ganged slave these past few weeks. It’s a long way north, and weather was not cooperating. Undaunted, Mark and his new crew member Michael, shoved off in the cold and rain.

As it turned out, this was not the year to attempt such a journey. There were more icebergs in Newfoundland’s waters than anytime in the past decade (maybe more). Mark made it to nearly the top of the Northern Peninsula and the Straight of Belle Isle, but he wisely turned around at that point. Going further north risked life and vessel.

In the meantime, work progressed on Pachina Mia. We’d get one day of decent weather, and then five more days of crap. But in between all the work, there was this little birthday event. Ann completely surprised me with a delicious chocolate, chocolate, chocolate cheesecake. It was made right under my nose. I was completely oblivious. So much for my dreams of becoming The Great Sailing Detective.

While the icebergs are a serious hazard for us boaters, they are a wonder to see, even from land. Our other new friends, Kathryn & Harald, took us for a road trip to see a couple modest sized bergs that had made their way very close to our marina.

Back on the boat, work progressed slowly, which is pretty much the only way we do any work. Launch day finally came and Pachina Mia went in the water — and she didn’t sink! So then we started into all the other projects needed to get our floating home back in shape. There were lots of jobs, both large and small, including the Big Climb up to the top of the mast. Ann does it in the Spring. I do it in the Fall.

Although it was a bit frustrating to still be at the marina, one of the great benefits of hanging around the clubhouse was all the great people we got to meet. Early in June the club hosted a group of European sailors who were preparing their boat, Que Sera, to go through the Northwest Passage. We also met a couple who were planning to sail back to the UK via Greenland and Iceland. And on the other side of things, we really got to know a few cruisers who have more modest ambitious: Kathryn & Harald, Paula & Craig, Roy & Tammy, to name a few. All sweet and lovely people who have been a joy to now call friends.

Coincidentally, all our boats were dealing with problems, meaning we were all slow to get going. Interestingly, three out of four of us had keel problems. This meant we were all making good use of the club’s galley and dining room. During one of our slightly boozy evenings together, the subject of Kraft Dinner came up. Seems like everyone has a different idea of how to cook it.

Somehow this morphed into the first ever:

Great Lewisporte KD Cook off!

Five chefs, one barkeep, and KD of all varieties. What could be better! The results speak for themselves…

Time marched on. We finally did get out for a sail… on Craig & Paula’s boat. They are both new to the life, and to their boat, so we’ve offered what little wisdom we have. They wanted to get out and do a bit of sailing, and to learn how to anchor, so we agreed to go out with them. It was a fun evening of sailing. Unfortunately, just as we were coming to the anchorage, the engine started to sputter. Seemed like fuel loss, so we turned tail and motored/sailed for home. We just got back to the dock when the engine died completely. Sometimes the gods are gentle in their torments.

During those long days we welcomed Mark back to the dock, and slowly ticked off most of the ‘to-do’ list. Just as we were winding up to leave the dock an unfortunate event set us back: Ann’s new iPhone went for a swim! It must have fallen out of her pocket as she stepped onto the boat.

The odds of finding anything down there in the murky, gunky waters of our marina are slim to none. And even if it is recovered, it’s likely the salt water will have done it in. Que Sera, as they say. I had given up hope, but Ann being Ann, was determined to find it.

And she did! The water nymph actually found it!!

Success came the day after the loss. Ann actually dove on it the first day, wearing only her bathing suit and goggles. But we were facing a rising tide, and with water being only about 9ºC, hypothermia set in quickly.

Ann was hell-bent to give it another try, so we waited for low tide the following day. This time she donned her wetsuit and flippers. Friend Mark, who is a SCUBA diver, gave her some diving weights and an underwater light.

After three dives, and against all odds, she came up screeching in victory!

The phone had been underwater for 22 hours, at depths of around 9 feet, with a water temperature of around 8ºC. Amazingly, it was still on when she pulled it out of the drink. We washed it with fresh water, and Ann took it out of the case. It seemed to be dry inside, so things looked hopeful.

It sat for 24 hrs in rice, and then … The patient lives!

Unfortunately, this little iPhone drama set back our departure by a few days. But we still expect to be off the dock soon … unless Neptune decides to have more fun — at our expense.