Lessons

So, just because the universe wants me to stay humble;

Lessons Learned During a Trip to the Floating Gas Station:

  1. When filling your tank, technically the boat should tell you when it’s full by spurting a little bit of fuel out the overflow port.  Technically.  MY boat overflows for no good reason at all, just because it feels like it.
  2. Diesel in the USA is pink. Diesel in Canada looks like lime kool-aid.
  3. Don’t untie your boat from the dock until you’ve ensured that the engine is going to start.
  4. If the engine doesn’t so much as turn over, it’s probably the batteries. The battery charger on my new generator is so handy! I didn’t really expect to need it quite so soon.
  5. The tidal bore under the Lion’s Gate Bridge can be vicious, with choppy standing waves, whirlpools and eddies!
  6. …actually no #6 right now, I’m going to get back to piloting the boat home.

*sigh*. I’m learning so much, so quickly. I’d say ‘sink or swim’, but I really don’t want to tempt fate.

Adventure!

…where to start?

Wow. Ok. So, I’m typing this from the boat. It’s a gorgeous Friday morning, and my view from the deck is the stunning Vancouver waterline. The feeling of contentment is daunted only by the chill in the air, but after months of living in a basement with no control over the furnace level, it’s not such a bother.

I. HAVE. ARRIVED!

Less than one year after I made my decision to become a technological nomad, I have thrown off the shackles of the office, cut down my consumption until a part-time job covers all of my expenses, moved out of my home, and now I live full-time on a large, sailing trimaran!

Ok – maybe that’s a bit romantic. I now live fulltime on a big, leaky, floating wooden hunting camp older than a few girls I’ve dated in the last year or so. She’s got soul though, and with a little work she’ll last me as long as I care to keep this lifestyle.

To catch up a bit – the most remarkable part of this stage of the adventure is just how much the universe reminds you that it needs to maintain a balance. For every new freedom, there is a new and daunting responsibility, something new and important to learn about.

Let’s start at Saturday – a friend and I went to White Rock on the bus early Saturday morning to pick up the boat. Fortunately water had been turned on at the dock, after being off all winter, so we flushed the antifreeze out of the water tanks and made a few repairs while getting ready to sail her to Vancouver. We talked with the former owner, squeezing as much final information as possible out of him, and then set out.

The first stress was navigating the Nekomekl River, which is a tidal river that gets *very* shallow at times. As the depth sounder showed 7, then 6, then 5… all the way down to *1*, we panicked somewhat and slowed to a crawl… then figured out that the depth sounder is measured in meters. Tie Fighter drafts about 2.5 feet, so we can float just fine in a meter of water.

We had to stand for about an hour waiting for a train bridge to open to allow us through, but then we were off into open water. Unfortunately, the lovely brisk winds of the morning died completely the second we left the river, and we had to motor the entire way. We made about 7kn though, which is very fast for a cruising sailboat – during the cruise we saw dolphins, ducks and sea lions.

As it grew dark and we approached Vancouver Harbour, I had the first scare of the night. I looked over and saw that we had missed a very large bell buoy – large like two stories tall, with a 10m concrete base – by less than 10m! This cemented into my head just how important it is to keep a close watch at night – even with a huge red blinking light on the top, I hadn’t noticed the buoy until we were going past it!

The second scare came as we motored under the bridges towards my final destination, just beside Science World. The Burrard and Granville bridges, no problem – but as we whipped under the Cambie bridge, I happened to glance up and noticed that we had VERY little clearance. Like, just shy of a foot I would say! As the meaning of this sunk in, we realized that it was currently low tide, but if it had been any higher, we would have dismasted the boat! That would have cost *thousands* of dollars, and might even have been unrepairable – needless to say, I am now acutely aware of the height of my mast, and will be watching carefully from now on!

Anchoring that night took seven or eight attempts, and I slept pretty well, despite the harrowing experiences with the bridge and the buoy. In the morning, I was awoken by a slap-slap-slap-slapping sound on the deck, and poked my head out of the hatch to find two Canada geese standing on the starboard wing, as if to welcome me to the neighborhood. The morning was crisp, sunny and *gorgeous*.

I spent the night on Sunday as well, with no incidents, and Monday morning I returned to my apartment for a day of work. Monday night, on the other hand, a very stiff wind blew up and threatened to pull my boat into the shore – when I arrived at the boat I found that she’d already moved a few feet, so I pulled up the anchor and reset it with another anchor (a delta instead of a CQR), which seemed to hold much better. I spent a fitful night of sleep, the winds howling above the cabin, anxiously watching my GPS to make sure I wasn’t dragging my anchor. The morning was gorgeous, however, easily the nicest day of the year so far, and I played hooky from work, spending the afternoon playing guitar on the deck. What a feeling of well being!

Wednesday afternoon was a lovely brisk breeze, and so I put the word out to a bunch of friends that I’d be going sailing, and invited them to join me. Unfortunately most of them could not, but as it turned out, that wasn’t such a bad thing – as we pulled away from the anchorage and motored under the Granville bridge, the engine made a bit of a funny noise. I brought the throttle down and the noise went away, but it was curious nonetheless – then it did it again, just shy of the Burrard bridge. Directly after that, the engine quit, right in front of Sunset Beach! We quickly tossed an anchor over, which luckily hooked on the first try, and started to try to debug the situation.

The short version is that we ran out of gas. *sigh*. Always the easiest problem – but what made it worse is that running out of diesel is nothing like running out of gasoline, you have to purge the fuel lines of air bubbles which is a complicated and drawn-out process involving three wrenches, a few rags, and a close personal relationship with the engine! We ended up spending the night on the public docks just across from the beach, and a mechanic showed up in the morning to get the engine running and walk me through the steps should it ever happen again. How embarrassing!

Even further to this, he said to leave the engines running for an hour or so, just to charge the batteries back up. No problem, I thought, and he left the boat after getting credit card info and charging me a whopping $150 for the visit. Unfortunately, in the next hour, the tide went out…

I was sitting in the salon when I realized that the boat was heeling a little over to port. This is a bad thing – a trimaran doesn’t heel unless there’s a problem, like one of the amas taking on water. When I went up on deck, the problem was immediately obvious; one of the amas was up in the air, and the main hull was sitting on the bottom of the ocean floor! I watched in growing embarrassment over the next hour as the ama rose higher and higher out of the water, leaving me looking like a toy airplane lying in a puddle. I had to sit there, in full view of the beach and a thousand apartments, waiting for the tide to go back out. Eventually it did, and I motored back to my anchorage with my tail between my legs.

So that’s where we are as of now. It’s now 5:15pm, and I’ve just spent the day actually working from my berth on the boat, getting a reasonable amount of work done while taking breaks every now and again to go up on deck to sit in the sun and play my guitar and sing a bit. Life is pretty great!

…and now I have to bill my office for the work I’ve been doing, so that I’ll actually get paid. 🙂

Update

(posted from the couch at my Dad’s place)

I’m in an airplane, headed to New Brunswick for my baby sister’s wedding party. I don’t know what it is about being in an airplane that makes people want to blog, but there it is.

Trent lent me a book last night, and I’ve already devoured half of it today – frighteningly interesting stuff, Neil Strauss (yeah, “The Game” guy) writing about survival in unstable situations. It ties in really nicely with the boat plans – he stops *just* shy of using the term ‘technomadic’, but references the lifestyle amid talks of hinting, lockpicking and foreign passport applications. And here I thought I’d be spending the day playing Final Fantasy XII on my Nintendo DS.

On the boat front, things are coming to a crescendo – I return from the east coast next Thursday, and will be heading up to White Rock to pick her up either Friday or Saturday to move her into False Creek. The apartment is looking more and more bare every week; Mike and Chris showed up to pick up the couch, speakers and coffee table late Tuesday night. It’s a strange feeling, watching another life chapter draw quickly to a close – this one has been dragging on for a few months too long, but the excitement and trepidation is building.

Oh! The apartment is rented! Two nice young girls will be moving in, and they’re raring to start gardening. Looking around the house I notice that there’s quite a bit of work still to do, filling little holes in the drywall, cleaning, etc. I’ve also still got to sort out what to do with the remainder of my junk! Most of the bigger stuff is gone now, and the pile in the corner destined for the (unsourced) self-storage company remains more-or-less static, but there’s still a bunch of stuff that I just don’t know what to do with. I read a so-so ebook on the liveaboard lifestyle recently, and it had one good point to take away: when you sell your stuff for 1/10th of what it’s “worth”, you’re not getting ripped off; you were ripped off when you bought it for ten times what it would bring on the used market.

Oh god, Toronto Airport is still fucking pay-for-wireless! Qué lame.

Billing and Procrastination

Argh!

I am so bad at actually tracking my time for billing purposes. Seriously – I’m currently living off of my Visa, for the sole reason that I haven’t billed my current contract since… DECEMBER. This is lame. Anyone can see the direct relationship between billing and getting paid, but for some reason I just want to spend my time ACTUALLY WORKING instead of playing ‘accounts receivable’.

I need to get better at this, pronto. Even writing this blog entry is just more procrastination. I think I’m much happier with a project manager, in a salaried position, where I know what I’m supposed to be working on every day. I miss knowing what my coworkers are doing, especially when that means that we don’t inadvertently duplicate each others’ work. But most of all, I miss not having to try to remember what I did last week, or the week before, or the month before that. Once again I’ve worked myself into a hole. *sigh*.

More Conferences

It seems like this is the month for conferencing. Sitting at CanSecWest, realizing that I have finite life for my battery, having stupidly left my power adapter thingy at home. D’oh!

This is certainly a week for physical exertion – by the end of the week I’ll have biked about 100km, the most I’ve biked in one week in months. This is good though, as sooner or later I’m going to have to get back into shape if I intend to use my bike as my only method of city transportation. Well, semi-only, I guess the rowboat could count.

Still worried about the boat, actually… there’s a non-zero chance that the winds of Sunday might have blown the hatches off, and if that’s the case I can expect a lot of water in the boat. Not that the boat isn’t built to handle a lot of extra water, but still – it’s a worry.