Ahhh, the Canada Goose. That bird that wears the moniker of our great country – flying majestically in extended V’s across the spring and autumn skies, often heard before they are seen. The mother goose who is willing to defend her eggs and chicks even to death if necessary. Their stark contrasting colors that separate them from the other geese making them instantly recognizable. What a beautiful stately bird that so represents the aquatic life.

And then there is the city goose!

A dirty mongrel of a bird – too stupid to fly south for the winter – eating pesticide infested grasses – crapping everywhere and generally a nuisance. Arrogant too! Drive toward one and rather than moving they will try to stare you down; only moving when the outcome of the stare down will obviously result in a bad situation of bird on bumper.

We have some lovely parks and marina areas around here that are virtually useless due to the disgusting accumulation of slippery city goose poop.

This one has forgotten how to fly properly. Rather than landing into a headwind as per the Gander Manual, he decided to attempt the difficult and somewhat dangerous crosswind landing. Things went well right up to the loss of control inherent to crosswind landings that resulted in an uncoordinated careen into dock A. Net result: a broken wing. (Later in the day after this photo was taken, this city goose was collected and brought to a local animal hospital. Current condition – unknown.)

Now what do we do with them? Can’t ‘remove’ them – send them on a permanent vacation so to speak as this would offend those with a love for animals (no matter how much their love hurts the animal.) Can’t just move them – they can fly – and eventually do so – right back to your dock. So what is the answer? Birth control for birds? Maybe… but until some solution is found – our waterways and shorelines will be partly ruined by their unsightly mess and the strut of the City Goose.

There are some things that are part of the living aboard experience that those who live on dirt know little about. For instance, during a bit of a wind storm a couple of nights ago:

• Watching your drink and dinner plate sliding around the table and hoping that they don’t go too far too fast and end up on the floor.

• After putting up with the infernal slap of loose lines on your mast as long as you can – crawling out into the wind and rain to tighten them only to realize that all your neighbours both up and down the dock are slapping and banging as well.

• Homeowners on dirt pick up leaves and branches from their yard after a wind storm. Live aboards pick up canvas panels that have blown out, wind indicators that have come loose from the top of masts and floating fenders that have come away and floated into your slip.

• Watching the masts of all the sailboats around you bending and waving in unison as the next gust comes towards you.

• Not having to rock the boy to sleep as the boat is doing it for you – albeit somewhat violently and with little rhythm (unless you call the lines slapping on the mast – rhythm.)

• Picking up the pieces while watching the sheet lightening move off into the distance.

I worry that after living on a boat and being so close to the power of nature and God’s great creation, that living in a good solid house in a ‘burb somewhere would be, well… boring.

P.S. Oh ya, I forgot this one: feeling somewhat sickish after spending too much time inside the boat during a wind storm.

I just finished sitting out in the cockpit under the tarp watching a great lightening storm blow right over top of the boat. Lots of great thunder and tons of bright flashes – such power and regal majesty yet ultimately one of the more dangerous things to those living on a sail boat. Basically, you’ve got lots of lightening flashing all over while you are sitting under a large metal pole that rises some 40 or 50 feet into the air. Does this really sound safe?

This brings me to the topic of lightening dissipaters and grounding plates.

A lightening dissipater is a brush like appendage that is attached to the top the mast. It actually looks like the metal brushes that are used on top of signs and under bridges to keep the pigeons off. The idea is that the many bristles of the brush allow the positively charged ions to dissipate into the air thus preventing the completion of a circuit between the clouds and earth. (Most lightening is the movement of energy from a negatively charged cloud to a positively charged earth. See more information at Wikipedia.)

A grounding plate is a large area of metal bonded to the bottom of the boat which is connected to a lightning rod which is at the top of the mast. The theory is that the lightning strike will move down the rod/mast to the grounding plate which will dissipate the charge into the surrounding water.

There are problems with both these systems. Basically – sometimes they don’t work. The lightning dissipaters often cannot discharge a large enough amount of energy or are not fast enough to prevent the flow of electricity. Grounding plates can only handle so much electricity. There are many stories of grounding plates that have been vaporized during a strike with the result being a hole in the boat below the waterline (or water in the basement so to speak.) So, what to do?

Well, you can do what I do – nothing.

Sit out in the cockpit, enjoy the show and hope that your neighbors mast (you know, the goldplater with the mast that’s 20 feet taller than yours) attracts all the lightning. Another bit of joy and wonder that you get to experience while living aboard a boat.
-Weather

The crowds assembled, police policing, photographers poised and in a series of muted booms down they came. The metered explosions reminiscent of an orchestra with the ‘sisters’ doing their final dance – and with a graceful pirouette they are gone. Nothing but a pile of rubble and a rapidly disappearing dust cloud.

Tomorrow morning, a local sailing landmark will be destroyed. Known by sailors as the “4 sisters”, the smoke stacks of the now defunct Lakeview Generating Station will be demolished. We will have a first hand view of the destruction as our dock is the first one on the warm water outlet of Lakeview. The “sisters” have been used for navigation on the lake for many years as they were visible from many miles away. In fact, except for the CN Tower they were often the first thing you could see coming across the lake. They were visible (on clear days) from Niagara and even when they were out of site you could see the smudge of smoke they put out. They were also well lit at night which made night sailing so much easier. But, for environmental reasons – down they must come.

Hmmm…

Something seems to be happening here. The longer we live aboard the less sailing we seem to be doing. Others had told me that when you live aboard that your sailing habits would change but I did not believe them. And here we are – the second week of June and I have not actually sailed this boat yet this year. I have motored around a couple of times – once to bring the boat over from our winter marina and a couple of times to do pump-outs but sailing just for the pleasure of sailing we have not done.

Why?

Well, I’m not exactly sure but I think it has something to do with the boat also being our home. When you live aboard you tend to operate just like when you live in a house. Dishes from dinner get stacked in the sink for washing later. Books are left out on the settee (couch) and the kettle sits on the stove. Now, in order to go sailing all this stuff must be cleaned up and tied down or it will be everywhere. The only real solution that I can think of is to designate a specific spot for everything and when you are done using it – put it back. That way when the sailing bug hits, all you do is a quick check down below and off you go. But what fun is that? I don’t want to live in such a regimented manner. I want to go with the flow – you know – I’ll do it later. Living aboard … who would have thought it would generate such a tough dilemma?

So here we are – going with the flow, doing stuff later – but not sailing. There’s got to be a happy medium somewhere. Any suggestions?

The concept of safety at sea is a complex one. I don’t really have any experience with seagoing safety as I’ve never been off the Great Lakes. I have no experience especially when compared with others who both live on board and have sailed away. Nevertheless, I would like to add my 2 cents worth. I read a about a great concept ….

John Vigor’s Invisible Black Box.

This is taken from John’s book called The Seaworthy Offshore Sailboat – A Guide to Essential Features, Gear, and Handling. I have written this out word for word because I think the idea is so important. However, if John or anyone associated with his book reads this and feels that it is a violation of some copyright law, please contact me and I will rewrite it or remove it.

“Vigor’s Black Box Theory states that there is an invisible Black Box aboard every boat. Whenever you take the trouble to consult the chart, inspect the diesel filters, go forward on a cold and rainy night to check the running lights, or take any other seamanlike precaution, you earn a point that goes into the Black Box.

When things start to go wrong in bad weather, when you get to the stage where you can accomplish nothing more through your own skill and physical effort, the points are cashed in as protection. You don’t have any control over their withdrawal: They withdraw themselves, as appropriate.

If you have no points in the Black Box, you will suffer the fate the sea decides. You may be one of those later described as unlucky.

If you have sufficient points to spend, you’ll survive the storm – but you’ll have to begin replenishing your savings immediately because the sea offers no credit.

Your initial deposit in the Black Box is the result of thinking about safety before you ever go to sea. More points come when you actually acquire some safety equipment, and even more when you learn how to operate it under emergency conditions. After that, it’s a question of listening to your conscience telling you to get on with those necessary little acts of seamanship, and continually topping up your balance.

Your Black Box is probably the most valuable safety aid you can own. If you’ve only just discovered you’ve got one, don’t hesitate. Start filling it with points straight away.”

Safety at sea is about preparation. The more you prepare for any and all eventualities that might occur, the better you will be able to weather and withstand them.

In some future post, I will break down some of the things that I have done or plan to do to fill my Black Box.

Let me start by saying that I know this whole post is going to make me sound like a pretentious donkey, but because it is part of the living aboard experience I would be remiss if I did not address it.

Weekenders!!!

Let’s establish something first: If you are stumbling around the main dock with a beer in your hand at 9:00am – you might have a problem. Further, if your buddies are in the same shape – they too, may have problems. If your other dock mates have to repeatedly ask you to tone it down – that might be a signal that you have issues. If your dock mates are secretly conspiring together on how to sink your boat in your slip – you might consider the possibility that you are causing a bit of a problem.

But, alas – you don’t clue in – because it’s 9:00am and you’ve already had 6 beers.

Why do you have to play your music so loud that it can be heard two marina’s over? Are you hard of hearing? And why, pray tell, do you have to sing along – off tune – at the top of your lungs? Do you fancy yourself to be a closet Sinatra that the world needs to discover? (P.S. – you’re not!)

And ….

Why do you have to urinate on the toilet seat and floor around the toilet all while smoking a cigarette and talking to your pal in the next stall? Why do you then walk away without flushing the toilet – much less cleaning up your mess? Is it because it is noon, and you’ve now had 15 beers?

What is so funny? That winch over there – look at that thing – man that is funny! And that cloud up there – it looks like your ex-wife – HAHAHA – ooooh, I’m so funny. Come to think of it – everything I say is funny. I’m a fun guy. I’m the life of this party. Lets all laugh together – 1-2-3 – from the belly, a good – raise the dead, laugh. (Hey, when I laugh – it can hear it echo. Man, that is funny too!)

It’s now 2:00am – well into the second case of beer. Hey, has anyone seen my pants? I don’t remember taking them off – I had them when I got up this morning. Oh well, I’ll figure it out in the morning. Lets just turn the music up and go to bed … after this one last beer.

I know, I know – not all weekenders are like this, but I’ll bet that every marina has a boat or two that the above describes to a ‘T’.

At all costs, I want to keep L on the dry side of the water. I think that my greatest fear as a parent of a baby living on a boat is that he somehow gets into the water. During the winter, there was little concern as we were shrink-wrapped and there was no access to the water from inside the wrap unless the door was open. We installed a latch high up on the door where it could not be reached and a bolt style lock that could be locked while L. was playing in the cockpit on the warm winter days. However, since removing the wrap we have now had to develop a much more conscientious plan to keeping him safe. We have devised a three part plan to keeping L. safe.

The first part of the plan is to install netting all around the life lines of the boat. Our life lines are about two feet high and come up to L.’s forehead when he stands up against them. So filling in the space between the lines and the deck is a great first step in keeping him safe.

Second, I will install jacklines on both sides of the deck running from the cockpit to the bow. Jacklines are a length of line that is pulled tight between two attachments usually tight to the deck. Then what we will do is use a harness on L. that we will be connected to a tether that is attached to the jackline. (I know – its called a leash. But this is for sailors so we have to use fancy terms.) This will give him the run of the deck on the side he is clipped in on but still keep him attached to the boat. The tether will be about 2 ½ feet long which will allow him to reach the life line but not beyond if somehow he did figure out a way to get through the netting on the lifelines.

And finally – anytime he goes outside, he has to wear a lifejacket. If somehow he gets off the tether/harness and somehow he gets over or through the lifelines and ends up in the water – he will have the lifejacket on to keep him afloat. Eventually, I might add a water warning system to his lifejacket that sets off an alarm if it gets wet. (I saw them on TV once.) Plus we have enrolled him in swimming lessons that again adds to the safety of having a baby on board.

A. and I have really set the rules for ourselves. We want L. to have freedom while living on a boat but we want him to be safe as well. I suppose that a kid living on dirt in the city has a fence around the yard for much the same reason – to keep him safe. This is the same thing – just different. Does that make sense?

You know for a human that is only a little over two feet tall they sure take up a lot of space! As I look around the settee area of our little boat I see baby stuff everywhere. Lets see, sippy cups around the sink, baby books in one corner, a hanging basket full of baby toys and figurines. Then on the back shelf behind the settee across from me we have a plastic baby computer, a change pad, a box of wipes, and a basket full of diapers ready to go. My only magazine rack on the boat? – Full of baby books! Hanging in the windows are baby plush toys, one hanging Homer (Simpson) and 2 bibs (drying – ready for the next meal.) Behind me, 1 of 3 cupboards full of baby food, baby cups, baby spoons, a baby toothbrush (with edible toothpaste) and more sippy cups. Of the two drawers that we have available to us in the settee area – one is full of toys. He takes up more space than A. and I put together!

I think the key to keeping a baby on board while staying sane as parents is to purge. A good regular purge of accumulating toys, allows you to move freely again for a day or two and also gives you a chance to move some new (and hopefully more interesting) toys in for the boy. This usually only lasts for a couple of days – but those days of free movement around the boat are wonderful.

Finally, the baby paraphernalia issue is a learning process for everyone. We, as parents, still sometimes buy things for the boy without thinking about where we are going to store it. Trying to keep the rest of our family (grandparents, aunts and uncles) under control is another thing. My ma and pa, for little L’s first birthday got him a great present! I would have loved to have it when I was a kid. It was a farm. A nice, big (opens up even bigger) plastic farm complete with little farm figures and a full range of sound effects. L. loves it – so it is here to stay for awhile. But where, oh where, are we to keep it? It has moved around. Currently it sits under a flip up kitchen counter extension that is permanently flipped. It has been stored in various places included in the cockpit area, in a corner of one of the settees and on the toilet. (The last spot was not practical for anyone – especially in the middle of the night.)

But the boy is here to stay – so I guess the paraphernalia is here to stay too.