Putting out the Laundry

With the weather in all its glorious splendor this past Easter weekend, it was the perfect time to begin to whittle down that long list of "to do's" aboard Corleto. We arrived at the dock early with the intent of perhaps firing up the engine and heading out into Howe Sound to put up the sails. I was reminded that today was the day we were hosting some friends at the house, so the "sail" part of the day was quickly written off. But with a long list of cleaning tasks, staying tied up was to be the order of the day.

Corleto as she sits at her berth in the Horseshoe Sun- Notice the dodger windows

Seeing the extent of the job to do, took the wind out of Charlene's sails. She retired to find more coffee in the village. In the meantime I got to work on hooking up the batteries to the charger that Kinc and I could not get to work when we brought Corleto from Bellingham. We had run the batteries down while  tied up at the dock stateside, figuring that our batteries were being charged by the charger hooked to shore power. It had not, and after a rather exhausting trouble shoot we figured we had a corrosion issue with the leads to the charger. The solution at the time to get the engine started was to get a boost or buy a new battery. The new battery got us on our way.

Getting the charger fixed or replaced was high on my priority list when Corleto finally arrived at her berth in Horseshoe Bay. I had spent a couple of lunch hours throughout the week cleaning up the leads to a shinny patina. I thought that would do it. But when I hooked up the shinny new cable ends, the charger still did not come to life.
It was then I began to feel around the frame of the charger, something both Kinc and I did while at dock in Bellingham weeks before. I felt what I thought was a button. Perhaps a reset button. No.
What the hell was it? I then decided to take a photo with my trusty iPhone of the bottom of this stubborn box. To my astonishment, my surprise, and embarrassment- the photo showed an "on off" switch. Nowhere in the manual of this piece of equipment was this information mentioned.
Corleto was laughing her ass off at this one. And rightly so.

The elusive "on/off" switch

The next thing on that sunny Easter weekend was to do a bit of cleaning. I began with the cockpit. Charlene had still not returned with her coffee yet. I feared she had already abandoned ship and I had lost my crew. But when she returned she had seen the difference between the clean side of the deck and the great unwashed section. She seemed encouraged, and went to work on the dodger windows armed with her research on how to make them transparent again.
When she was done, they looked like new. And to me that in itself was the biggest victory so far. Corleto smiled and gleamed. She liked Charlene for her care of the windows.

Notice the clean windows on the dodger

Easter Sunday brought us back to the dock. Instead of cleaning we elected to take Corleto out and get her sails up. It was magic when we got out there.
We only tooled around for 3 hours or so, but Corleto loved the workout. She performed wonderfully and the laundry was finally in the wind. All this on the last weekend in March.

A happy couple on the water Easter Sunday

Corleto wasn't done with me. As we were returning to Horseshoe Bay, with the wind at our stern, I decided to douse the main and just sail with the jib. This is where in my euphoria I made a rookie mistake. Forgetting to tension and attach the topping lift, I began to drop the main. The boom came crashing down onto the Dodger frame. Just missing my head by about 6 inches.
Excitement ensued for about 45 seconds. I quickly got Charlene on the helm and I got to work on fixing my error. When it was said and done, there was no dammage except for my sailor's ego. Again I could hear Corleto chuckling at her Keystone Skipper. I won't do that again.
It was the only hic up of an otherwise perfect day. And I am sure there are more of them to come in the very near future.

Life is good on the water