Category: Wildflower

Sew what?

It’s official, they are wearing woolly jumpers in hell.

After years of refusing to do something as girlie as learning how to sew, I am now in the process of producing cockpit cushions.

There is a lot of work on the boat that, not being an engineer or mechanic, I can’t really help with. So in a bid to do something practical, I have been introduced to Paddy’s industrial sewing machine.

As many of you know, the idea of me as a domestic goddess does not sit well – least of all to me. But I really do want to do something tangible, so I’m willing to give it a go. Besides, sewing canvass to make something for us to sit on isn’t the same as lace on frilly things.

Photographic evidence for the unbelievers

The last time I touched a sewing machine was during manual classes at primary school – all i really remember about that is trying to race the thread off the material by  slamming the foot pedal down. I also remember coming in one week to see a bit ‘Out of Order’ sign on the machine I usually used – I’m still giving myself the benefit of the doubt as to whether that one was my fault… I do remember making a really great deck chair in woodwork though – I’ve still got that.

So I needed some serious remedial lessons.

Enter the lovely Keri – a good friend of mine who I’ve always been a little bit jealous of because she made her own really funky clothes (she also had the best name for a clothing label I had heard in a long time  ‘Snotbubbles!’).

The first step was to make a mock-up of a cushion out of Calico (the canvass for the cushions was a teensy bit expensive so I didn’t really want to be practising on them!) but we actually found material in a much better colour…

Seamstress Keri helps with the mock-up
Tools of the trade - cushion foam and low-carb beer

Unfortunately our lovely orange mock-up fabric turned out to be too flimsy for the machine – so now I’m back to boring but heavy-duty.

The next step was getting the sewing machine to behave – and this reminded me exactly why I never had the patience to take up sewing.

There are so many teeny tiny persnickity little things that can go wrong with the sodding machines and Paddy’s seemed to snarl up and screech to a halt every few seconds.

Paddy has a stubborn streak when it comes to technical stuff and, where I would have lost patience and given up in disgust, he finally managed to get the thing to work.

We seem to be experiencing some technical difficulties...

In the end it turned out to be a combination of thread tension issues, fabric that wasn’t strong enough, dirt on the thread and the thread spool thingie being pulled through the wrong metal doohickey (or something like that)

But once all that was fixed, the actually sewing was relatively easy. I haven’t got past the practising sewing straight(ish) lines on a bit of fabric part yet – but you’ve got to start somewhere.

I was amazed at how convoluted and technical sewing machines actually are. I don’t know why they have such a fluffy, girlie reputation – they are about as obscure as car engines to me.

Watching Keri take the thing apart and adjust it was pretty impressive actually – I was totally lost! She told me that machine maintenance was not covered at all when she took sewing at school, which I think is crazy since you pretty much have to dismember the things when something goes wrong. I’d like to think things would be a bit more progressive now though.

So I officially take it back – sewing isn’t just a girlie girl pastime. It’s a real, technical, practical skill that I am going to do my best to master without maiming myself or the cockpit cushions.

Wish me luck!

Stop staring at my bum!

A boat out of water is a sad sight – all awkward and exposed. But it’s a necessary evil to ensure everything is in good shape below the water.

Fish out of water

Living on a boat out of water can be a little unnerving as well – particularly when it’s windy. Being several feet up in the air and swaying from side to side when you are nowhere near the ocean just feels wrong, as does climbing down a ladder to go to work in the morning!

Our longest stint out of the water was a few months ago while Wildflower’s decks were being repainted. We became temporary residents of the Evans Bay yacht club, and for several weeks the sounds of lapping water and ducks were replaced by passing traffic and power tools as people worked on their boats.

Paddy and I had a great time at the yacht club, with the locals embracing us as one of their own – but spending so much time so close to the bar probably didn’t do our livers any good (these guys drink rum and coke by the jug!)

Again, boat life forced me to sort out my coordination issues as I mastered the art of clambering up and down a ladder with any combination of handbag, gym gear and laptop.

Don't look dooown...

Paddy once had the frightening experience of being up out of the water during an earthquake – an experience he says he would rather not repeat! I had my own brush with an out-of-water natural disaster –  it turned out to be a false alarm, but it was still pretty exciting.

While we were parked up at Evans Bay, on the day I was due to sit the theory part of my practical boating course, Paddy and I were woken up by a banging on the side of the boat. It was the club manager telling us to clear out because a tsunami was due to hit in 25 minutes. In autopilot I threw some clothes on, grabbed Bilgey the (stuffed toy) ship’s cat and jumped into the car. We headed up Mt Victoria (and discovered half of Wellington had had the same idea) and waited…and waited…. and nothing happened, not even a little splash. Which was a good thing of course, but I did end up missing my test (everyone else had ignored the tsunami warning and turned up anyway.)  Luckily I was able to sit it in an empty office. I managed to pass but I did make a couple of really stupid mistakes that I blame squarely on my brain being frazzled by the early morning excitement!

While it was fun being honorary members at Evans Bay, it was an enormous relief to be back in the water. I swear I heard Wildflower sigh with pleasure when she was finally lowered back in. The process of getting her back in the water was quite fascinating, involving what appeared (to me at least) to be a giant mutant tractor. It was quite a process and I have included some pics below for those who are interested.

Taking the boat for a walk
Giant mutant tractor
And I thought reversing the car was scary!
Bombs away!
He made it look easy!
Bye bye Evans Bay

PS – please don’t tell Wildflower I put photos of her bottom on the internet – I kinda want to stay on her good side!

It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it

There's a fridge under here - honest!

Someone once described cruising as “the art of boat maintenance in exotic locations” – and I am in absolutely no doubt this is true. But what they fail to mention is the large amount of work that needs to be done before setting out for more tropical climes.

Evidence of this is The List – a document Paddy uses to keep track of what needs to be done before hitting the waves. Ever since I have known Paddy The List has been shrinking and growing – as quickly as items were ticked off, more were added, but finally now it seems to be on a downward trend.

One of the biggest jobs to be crossed off  The List involved more dust and mess than I had seen in all the grotty student flats I have lived in put together – and that’s saying something!

Sanding and repainting a boat’s bilges is a once-every-10-years job, and unfortunately Wildflower’s 10 years were up.

Before I met Wildflower I didn’t really know what a bilge was. Through pirate insults like ‘scurvy bilge rat’  I’d kind of figured it was something sewer-like and gross, but that was the extent of my knowledge.

The bilge is actually the inside of the bottom of the boat –  (“the lowest compartment inside the hull of a ship” according to fount of all knowledge that is Wikipedia). It’s where water that overflows from the decks of the ship collects. When there is too much water sloshing about on deck (say during a storm) to make it safe to walk on, the boat is designed to funnel this water to the bottom where it can be sucked out by bilge pumps (this is a very amateur summary so feel free to correct me!)

The scurvy bilge rat insult stemmed from the fact that, along with water, bird poo, food scraps, and bodily waste from dirty sailors of old, also ended up in the bilges – so it really wasn’t a pleasant place to be. Before mechanisation bilges used to have to be pumped by hand and this rather disgusting job was reserved for junior sailors or those that had managed to upset the captain.

So the bilge is actually a pretty important part of the boat – and because bilge water can get quite acidic and generally grotty, it’s important to have a good layer of paint on the bottom to prevent it from eating through.

While this sounds relatively simple, the 10 year repaint actually involves ripping up the floor of the boat, sandblasting what is underneath to within an inch of its life and twisting your body into all sorts of unnatural positions (a practice Paddy has dubbed Boat Yoga) in order to repaint it.

The sandblasting process involved many long nights and weekends and rendered the boat uninhabitable. Paddy ended up living in a backpackers near the marina (aka the Roach Motel) so he could come and go from the boat during whatever insane hours he needed to. The result was more dirt and dust than I actually thought existed in the world.

While I was more hindrance than help with the sandblasting, I really wanted to be able to do something to help Paddy so I embarked on the biggest cleaning expedition of my entire life. While Paddy was playing contortionist with a paintbrush I turned my hair, clothing and skin grey attacking the dust. For a while it was exceedingly frustrating because for every layer of dust I removed a new ones seemed to appear overnight. But it was an incredibly fulfilling feeling when surfaces began to reappear again. It also makes me feel a lot safer knowing exactly what is at the bottom of the boat and that it’s clean and shiny and newly painted.

I am pleased that particular hurdle is over though – Paddy pretty much exhausted himself – but with a stubborn and determined streak a mile wide, he wasn’t going to slow down until the job was done. I’m sure Wildflower appreciates it though – I know I do.

Emerging from the dusty depths
The galley - before
The galley after
The cleaning lady
Bilge undercoat
boat yoga

Drugs are good mmmkay?

Drugs are good mmmkay?
Me on Paihia Bombs in Queen Charlotte Sounds

A word about seasickness medication – don’t knock it. And for the love of Neptune, if you aren’t used to sailing, don’t try to be macho and tough it out without it.

I learned that one the hard way during my first Cook Strait crossing on the way to Queen Charlotte Sounds. I did the whole “I don’t get motion sickness, I don’t need drugs” routine.

Big mistake.

To be fair we had a horribly sloppy sea with 4/5 m swells, so it wasn’t going to be a comfortable trip anyway – but I’m sure I would have been able to handle that fine if I’d just taken the damn pills!

Instead I spent the latter part of the trip hugging a bucket.

There is a much more scientifically accurate way to say this but basically motion sickness happens when your inner ear starts squabbling with your eyes. Your inner ear tells you that you’re moving while your eyes are convinced you are staying still – your tummy then decides to opt out of the whole argument by expelling its contents. Repeatedly.

That’s why they tell you to keep an eye on the horizon – that puts your eyes and your brain back on the same page. Unfortunately, on that particular trip, I was too far gone for that trick to work so poor old Paddy ended up bringing the boat in single-handedly while I wedged myself in a corner and refused to move.

One of the worst things you can do if you are prone to motion sickness is go below deck, because then you have no reference point – and that was exactly what I did. I went below to go to the toilet and when I came back it was all on. Lesson learned.

Some people don’t like taking drugs because they can make you drowsy, but Paddy has discovered an answer for that in some awesome little pills called Paihia Bombs. These work for 24 hours so you can take them the night before, get a good night’s sleep and be alert in the morning without getting sick. They rock!

My second brush with seasickness was very Monty Python. We were holidaying in Vanuatu and went out fishing on a charter boat. I didn’t even think about taking seasickness pills because we weren’t going that far out. But the boat was a lot smaller than Wildflower and therefore a lot rockier. It all happened so fast. One minute I was sitting up the front of the boat and the next I was doubled up over the side (NOT a safe position to be in – another lesson learned). Again I wedged myself into a corner with a bucket and again was so paraliticly sick I couldn’t move. Unfortunately the spot I had chosen was right in front of the fishing rods and people were having to climb over me to get at them.

This was fine until Paddy managed to land a 7kg mahimahi, which clobbered me in the head on its way aboard. So, ladies and gentlemen, I have actually been slapped in the face with a wet fish – and it wasn’t a pleasant experience!

The funny thing about seasickness is that while you are going through it, it feels like you are dying, but the second the motion ceases it all goes away. That’s because your body isn’t actually sick, it’s just really confused.

And before you start worrying Mum, I have been out plenty of times since then and haven’t been sick at all. Apparently it takes about three days in the open ocean before your body gets used to the motion. In the meantime though, the drugs are working for me so I’m sticking with them!

And I got the last laugh on the fish in the end – it was delicious!

Sailing home from the Sounds (only decent bit of wind we got!)
The offending fish
Revenge is scrummy!

Drugs are good mmmkay?

Drugs are good mmmkay?
Me on Paihia Bombs in Queen Charlotte Sounds

A word about seasickness medication – don’t knock it. And for the love of Neptune, if you aren’t used to sailing, don’t try to be macho and tough it out without it.

I learned that one the hard way during my first Cook Strait crossing on the way to Queen Charlotte Sounds. I did the whole “I don’t get motion sickness, I don’t need drugs” routine.

Big mistake.

To be fair we had a horribly sloppy sea with 4/5 m swells, so it wasn’t going to be a comfortable trip anyway – but I’m sure I would have been able to handle that fine if I’d just taken the damn pills!

Instead I spent the latter part of the trip hugging a bucket.

There is a much more scientifically accurate way to say this but basically motion sickness happens when your inner ear starts squabbling with your eyes. Your inner ear tells you that you’re moving while your eyes are convinced you are staying still – your tummy then decides to opt out of the whole argument by expelling its contents. Repeatedly.

That’s why they tell you to keep an eye on the horizon – that puts your eyes and your brain back on the same page. Unfortunately, on that particular trip, I was too far gone for that trick to work so poor old Paddy ended up bringing the boat in single-handedly while I wedged myself in a corner and refused to move.

One of the worst things you can do if you are prone to motion sickness is go below deck, because then you have no reference point – and that was exactly what I did. I went below to go to the toilet and when I came back it was all on. Lesson learned.

Some people don’t like taking drugs because they can make you drowsy, but Paddy has discovered an answer for that in some awesome little pills called Paihia Bombs. These work for 24 hours so you can take them the night before, get a good night’s sleep and be alert in the morning without getting sick. They rock!

My second brush with seasickness was very Monty Python. We were holidaying in Vanuatu and went out fishing on a charter boat. I didn’t even think about taking seasickness pills because we weren’t going that far out. But the boat was a lot smaller than Wildflower and therefore a lot rockier. It all happened so fast. One minute I was sitting up the front of the boat and the next I was doubled up over the side (NOT a safe position to be in – another lesson learned). Again I wedged myself into a corner with a bucket and again was so paraliticly sick I couldn’t move. Unfortunately the spot I had chosen was right in front of the fishing rods and people were having to climb over me to get at them.

This was fine until Paddy managed to land a 7kg mahimahi, which clobbered me in the head on its way aboard. So, ladies and gentlemen, I have actually been slapped in the face with a wet fish – and it wasn’t a pleasant experience!

The funny thing about seasickness is that while you are going through it, it feels like you are dying, but the second the motion ceases it all goes away. That’s because your body isn’t actually sick, it’s just really confused.

And before you start worrying Mum, I have been out plenty of times since then and haven’t been sick at all. Apparently it takes about three days in the open ocean before your body gets used to the motion. In the meantime though, the drugs are working for me so I’m sticking with them!

And I got the last laugh on the fish in the end – it was delicious!

Sailing home from the Sounds (only decent bit of wind we got!)
The offending fish
Revenge is scrummy!

Introducing Wildflower

Wildflower at the marina

Wildflower is a 44ft steel yacht. She’s named after a Tom Petty song and I think she’s beautiful.

Granted I did come along when she was looking her best. About 10 years ago Paddy was living in her while she was sans ceiling and floor. He had to balance on beams and duck under exposed wires. In contrast the Wildflower I know has a lovely wooden interior and all the mod cons, including microwave and internet.

I’ve been asked a lot of questions about her so figured the best way to do this would be Q and A format  – if anyone has any other questions just let me know, I may have to forward the more technical ones on to Paddy though.

Q: (the first question asked by any female before stepping on the boat) Is there a toilet and does it work?

A: Yes – its a fancy electric toilet so you don’t need to pump it to flush it, it does however sound a little like a lawnmower chewing gravel when you flush it!

Q: Do you have hot water?

A: Yep – its heated by gas, so hot showers are not a problem (as long as there is enough water in the tanks!)

Q: What do you do for electricity?

A: The same thing as everyone else when we are at the marina. When we are out at sea we have a kick arse generator (built by Paddy) to do the job for us.

Q: What happens if you run out of fresh water at sea?

A: We make our own (technical details will have to be left to Paddy!)

Q: Don’t you get in eachother’s way in such a small space?

A: This is one of the many plus sides of being munchkin sized, it honestly isn’t an issue for me (and to be honest its not much smaller than my flat!)

Q: Yes – but living with someone on a boat and visiting someone on a boat are two very different things. Are you sure  you will cope?

A: I live on the boat at the weekends and a couple of nights during the week and we’ve taken the boat away on trips together and we haven’t had any problems so I’m pretty confident we’ll be fine.

Q: So why don’t you just move onto the boat now then?

A: There is another man in my life – 6kgs of spoilt black feline that has travelled up and down the country with me over the past 7 years. He kinda got in first.

Q: What are you going to do with the cat when you go away?

A: Ollie is going into borstal with a lovely catlady who does longterm stays. I know it would be cheaper to leave him with a friend, but I’d worry. This way I definitely know he’ll be there when I get back.

Q: Why don’t you just take the cat with you? people have ships cats don’t they?

A: Cats are fine at sea if you start them off as kittens but they have very sensitive inner ears and an adult cat that is not used to a boat will just get horribly sick. Ollie has stayed on the boat in the marina though and has been fine – unfortunately his desire to go exploring loudly around the boat in the wee small hours of the morning had him dangerously close to taking swimming lessons, so I don’t think he’ll be invited back again!

Any other question hopefully will be answered by these photos:

The Galley
Paddy in the 'library' - before it underwent a big cleanup!
Looking up from inside
Big Red the engine - who lives under the stairs

Sleeping berth
Ollie hanging out with Bilgey the ship's cat in the forward cabin

Wildflower’s bottom

Main cabin/sleeping berth