Status Report: My First Winter at Home in 10+ Years

I summarize how it started and how it’s going for my first winter at home in more than 10 years.

It’s December 18, 2024 and I’m typing this at home while sitting at my desk at a desktop computer. Outside is approximately 8 inches of snow that has fallen in the past three days. My driveway is plowed, my vehicles are tucked into the garage. My house is warm. The sun is out, trying to break through the low clouds between my perch about 800 feet above the Columbia River and city of Wenatchee. It is a gorgeous day and is likely to become even nicer as the sun continues to rise — although for me, it’ll never clear the 500+ foot ridge just south of my home.

I’m chomping at the bit, ready to turn my 2-3 week planned trip to Arizona into a 5 week camping adventure. After all, I do still have my truck camper. I may as well use it.

On Being Home

Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love my home. I love its simple comfort, privacy, quiet, spacious garage, and, above all, its views. (I’ve always been fond of a good view and I don’t think I’ll get a better one anywhere else.) I have everything here that I want and need — or almost (more in a moment) — and after spending 17 of the past 24 months traveling, it’s great to be settled in somewhere.

At least I think it is. I’m so used to being on my boat that it actually feels weird to have luxuries like a washer/dryer, dishwasher, enormous (well, okay, just normal sized) refrigerator, and soaking tub where I can immerse 90% of my body in hot water for as long as I like.

One of the things I admit that I am struggling with is the sameness of every day. My pups and I have revised our routine for our surroundings and that’s fine, but what’s weird is that we wake up in the same place every day. When I’m traveling, every day doesn’t just have the potential to be different. It is different. Here, I have to work on adding variety to my days. And I’ll admit that sometimes I just don’t bother.

The Plan: A Winter at Home

The original plan was to spend the whole winter at home. Period.

I have lots to do. Not only did I have to clean the boat and prep it for a season as a charter boat in the San Juan Islands, but I had a lot of catching up to do on my Great Loop blog and the video channel I’m trying to build. I could spend eight hours every day working on these things and still not catch up by the end of February.

Not only that, but I’m exploring more creative options. In addition to getting back into my jewelry shop to build inventory for the upcoming season, I’ve begun dabbling in paper arts, including bookbinding and the production of decorative papers. I find these things challenging while being a good creative outlet.

So that was the plan: work on the things I need and want to get done.

But the Gray! And the Snow!

Right around the time we changed the clocks, I remembered why I go usually south every winter. It gets dark early here. When it gets dark, my brain tells my body that it’s time for bed. It’s increasingly difficult to stay up until at least 9 PM.

And then there’s the gray. The Wenatchee Valley has inversions in the winter time that fill the valley with clouds. Sometimes I’m above the clouds, sometimes I’m below the clouds, and sometimes I’m in the clouds. So I look out the windows and I see a lot of gray. I’d estimate 4-5 days out of every 7.

This is very difficult for someone who lived in Arizona for 15 years where the sun shines so often that you wish for a gray day.

Of course, on other days here you get a day like today, when the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the world looks like a winter wonderland. On days like this, I feel like sitting in a window seat with a book and a cup of hot cocoa, glancing up at the amazing, ever-changing vista every time I turn a page.

Gorgeous Day
How’s this for a gorgeous day and amazing view? Come join me for a cup of hot cocoa looking out the windows.

Dave Shovels
With 8 inches of snow in about 48 hours, “shoveling” requires some heavy equipment. Here, my neighbor Dave is digging a pathway for my Jeep to get in and out of the garage.

And the snow is definitely a thing.

I like snow. I think it’s pretty. But the problem is that it makes it difficult to do anything or go anywhere outside. The problem is only made worse by the fact that the snow slides off my roof to block my garage doors, thus trapping my vehicles inside until I — or someone else — breaks them free.

A Year Ago Today
There’s a nice private beach a short drive from where my dad lived.

Last year on this date, I was walking on a beach near my dad’s house in Florida, feeling the sand between my toes while my pups chased each other near the surf. Only a few days later, I’d be heading south a in my boat to New Year’s Eve with a friend at Key West. The year before, I was heading east on the Gulf ICW to spend Christmas week at Orange Beach, Alabama. The year before that, I was camped out in the desert in Arizona, hiking, exploring, and enjoying star-filled skies every night. Ditto for most of the years before that.

Lately, I’m constantly trying to remind myself why I’m here this year.

The New Plan

The new plan is to load up my truck camper and head south sometime around Christmas Day. I’m going to visit a bunch of friends in Wickenburg, Quartzsite, Phoenix, Tucson, and Sierra Vista. I’ll hit the big Pow Wow rock show to replenish my supply of certain stones I use in jewelry making. And I’m going to start my search for a new winter home in the Tucson area. — more on that in another post.

My usual winter house-sitter, John, is thrilled. He loves it here in the winter. He thought he’d be stuck spending more time with family, but is already packing his truck in preparation for coming back here. I’m sure my barn cat, Rover, will be thrilled, too. I know John spoils the hell out of him when I’m gone. (Maybe this time he’ll take Rover with him when he leaves.)

But John won’t have too much time here. My goal is to be back by the end of January. I want to go to the Seattle Boat Show at month-end and I need to get my boat to the other side of the mountains for some maintenance work before it’s launched in March. There’s a lot to do.

There’s always a lot to do. And I like it that way.

Where am I?

I’m off on another, shorter adventure, but I’ll be back to working on projects at home again soon.

I started writing a blog post two weeks ago about my third trip to the Ranger Tugs/Cutwater Rendezvous at Roche Harbor. I had to put it aside because I got busy doing other things, as I seem to do quite often these days. It’s sitting in the app I use to compose and publish my blog posts. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get to it later today. (Note: I finished it this morning after this post. I’m just waiting for someone to turn on their StarLink so I can post them both. Two posts in one day!)

What’s keeping me busy right now is cruising around the San Juan Islands and beyond. After the Rendezvous and a quick trip home to drop off my boat trailer, I returned to my boat, Do It Now, which was waiting for me at Anacortes. I provisioned up and fueled up and headed back out.

You see, my boat does not actually have a “home port” — a place where it lives when I’m not on it. It’s a wanderer, like I’ve become. So unless I wanted to pay a marina $50 to $100 per night for it to sit idle in the water, I needed to take it cruising. That’s what I did.

Where I’ve Been

I explored the San Juan Islands for more than a week, picking up friends for day trips along the way. I visited:

  • Dungeness Crabs
    I caught Dungeness crabs at Roche Harbor and Suchia Island. These are from Suchia.

    San Juan Island. That’s where the Rendezvous was held. I stayed at the wonderful Roche Harbor Resort, which I believe is one of the best-run marinas I’ve ever visited.

  • Stuart Island. I took my friend Liz and her dog Suki to Stuart from San Juan Island where she lives. We squeezed onto the dock in Reid Harbor, where I ran into other Ranger Tug owners, including Glen, who has given me tons of advice about my boat. (He has the same model.)
  • Lopez Island. I spent the night tied to a mooring ball at Spencer Spit, getting my first taste of the convenience of Washington State’s marine parks.
  • Fidalgo Island. That’s where Anacortes is. I spent one night there, then offloaded a bunch of stuff off the boat, got a one-way rental car to Des Moines (where my truck and trailer were parked), and went home for a few nights. By that time, my summer house-sitter had moved out, leaving the place remarkably clean, and it was a real pleasure to sleep under my own roof. I left just before my current house-sitter arrived and returned to the boat.
  • Suchia Island. I got a mooring ball in Echo Bay, which quickly filled up with other boats that Friday evening. I caught two Dungeness crabs in a trap I set from my boat’s swim platform.
  • Point Roberts. While not an island, it’s a weird little Washington State community that can only be reached by boat or by driving through Canada. I picked up a friend and his family there for a day trip to…
  • Patos Island
    Do It Now at the mooring ball at Patos Island.

    Patos Island. There was one mooring ball in Active Cove and we grabbed it. We went for a long hike on the island and my dogs got a good chance to run. My friend found a geocache, completing his goal of finding at least one geocache in every Washington State county. (San Juan County was the last.) I also cooked up and shared those Dungeness crabs I’d brought in that morning.

  • Matia Island. I managed to squeeze into the dock with three other boats at Rolfe Cove. Dogs are not allowed on the trails there, so we didn’t do any hiking. But it was a nice quiet place to spend the night.
  • James Island. I took another friend and his wife from Anacortes to James Island for a little day trip. More hiking and running for my pups. A great cheese and fresh bread — thanks, Greg! — lunch at a picnic table before a peek at Deception Pass. We saw dolphins or porpoises along the way. One of these days I’ll learn to identify all the marine life around here.

    James Island
    Looking back down at Do It Now from our hike on James Island.

  • Saddlebag Island. I tried anchoring at Saddlebag Island but didn’t like the conditions so I left.
  • Guemes Island. I also tried anchoring at Boat Harbor anchorage but again, didn’t like the conditions so I left. (This gave me a real appreciation for mooring balls out on the islands.)
  • Cypress Island. I picked up a mooring ball at Cypress Head. I went for a nice hike on the head with my pups and rested up from a busy weekend.
  • Blackberries
    I picked enough blackberries for three breakfasts.

    Orcas Island. I anchored at Eastsound one night and got a slip at Deer Harbor the next night. I really liked Eastsound and need to go back when I have a whole day to explore the town. The highlight of Deer Harbor was the friendly people, the barbecue place, and picking wild blackberries on a walk.

I ended up on September 20 at Bellingham, where I got a slip courtesy of the folks at San Juan Sailing. That’s where I would begin the cruise I’m on now.

I should point out that most of my stops along the way were at marine parks that were either free or just $15 for the night. Cruising in the San Juans is very affordable if you don’t need a marina. Even then, the marinas I stayed at — notably Cap Sante (in Anacortes) and Deer Harbor (at Orcas) — were reasonably priced.

My Current Adventure

On September 21, I set out as part of a flotilla of six boats cruising from Bellingham to Desolation Sound in British Columbia and back. I’m typing this from an anchorage called Melanie Cove off the BC mainland. So far, we’ve been to:

  • South Pender Island. We stayed at the Poet’s Cove Marina in Bedwell Harbor, which is where we checked into Canada. There’s a nice resort there with hot springs and hiking trails.
  • Nanaimo. We stayed at the port there, mostly so we could provision at the supermarket. (Canada limits what you can bring in as far as fresh foods are concerned.) I spent some time visiting shops in town before hitting the supermarket.
  • Hospital Bay. After an unpleasant crossing of the Strait of Georgia, we spent a night at the wonderfully sheltered John Henry’s Marina.
  • Cortes Island. Our longest cruise took us up Malaspina Strait (in dense fog) and then up the Strait of Georgia (in much more favorable conditions) to Gorge Harbor in Whaletown. Along the way, we saw colonies of harbor seals and humpback whales.

    Cruising in the Fog
    Two of the flotilla’s boats, both American Tugs, cruising in the fog.

  • Octopus Islands
    Here we are, rafted at the Octopus Islands. My boat is the smallest one (as usual) but I have no trouble keeping up. (In fact, I’m faster than all of them.)

    Octopus Islands. We anchored and rafted a small bay in the Octopus Islands off Quadra Island. We spent two nights there with a very rainy day between them. Highlights included catching some red rock crabs and visiting the “art cabin,” which was full of boat souvenirs and other artwork.

  • Quadra Island. We spent one night at Taku Resort in Drew Harbor. I’d been there at an anchorage years before with the folks on the David B, but I didn’t remember seeing any marinas. I got some sad news while I was there, which I’ll address in another post, but also bought some provisions and picked some wild blackberries while walking with my dogs and two other boaters.
  • Prideaux Haven. That’s where we are now, at Melanie Cove, anchored and rafted again. We went for a group hike into the mountains yesterday on what became a picture-perfect day.

    Melanie Cove
    I flew my drone to capture a few images of a picture-perfect day at Melanie Cove. Our boats are rafted in the lower right corner of the image.

But we’re not done yet! Destinations lie ahead:

  • Texada Island. We’ll stay at at Sturt Bay.
  • Gabriola Island. We’ll stay at a resort marina at Silva Bay.
  • Saltspring Island. We’ll stay at a marina at Ganges Harbor.
  • Lummi Island. Back in the US, we’ll spend a last night at anchor at Inati Bay.

The trip ends on October 4 at Bellingham, where we started. By that time, I should have a long year of cruising out of my system and be ready for a rest.

And That’s My Excuse

This cruising schedule is my excuse for not blogging as much as I’d really like to. I don’t write as quickly as I used to — I’m so easily distracted these days. (Who isn’t?) I want to spend more of my time enjoying the things I do instead of writing about them.

But I have a lot of writing and video production ahead of me — did I mention that I’ve been recording video footage nearly every cruising day? I’ve decided to spend this winter at home for the first time since moving to Washington — sorry, John*! — and to fill my days catching up on content creation, making new jewelry inventory, and exploring new craft hobbies, including paper making, paper marbling, and bookbinding.

And, of course, prepping Do It Now for another season of cruising in the Pacific Northwest. April is only six months away.

PostScript

I finished this blog post shortly after 5 AM this morning. (I wake up very early.) It was still dark outside so I went up to Do It Now‘s command bridge. One of the great things about these remote anchorages out in the islands is how dark they are. Other than the anchor lights of boats, there are no ground lights to foul the sky. I sat for a few moments, waiting for my eyes to adjust. I saw the bright stars right away; the brightest thing in the sky right now is Jupiter which was almost straight up. Then I saw the dimmer stars and familiar constellations such as Orion. I saw the Milky Way, which I hadn’t seen well in over a month. And I saw satellites and a shooting star.

I love my home, but the nearby glow of Wenatchee makes it unsuitable for serious star gazing. It’s nice to get out and away from all those lights. When I’m done with my boat travels, I’m going to settle down back in the desert, away from city lights, and look up at the stars any time I can.


* John is my ever-faithful winter house-sitter who has been watching over my place for most winters since around 2016. He’s at my place now and I don’t think he’s happy about hitting the road in about a week.

Getting Do It Now Home

I finish my Great Loop trip and jump through all necessary hoops to get my boat back to Washington State, battling covid along the way.

If you’ve been following this blog or my Great Loop trip blog, you know that since October 2022 I’ve been cruising with my boat, Do It Now, along the Great Loop. You can learn more about the trip in that blog.

I finished the trip — or “crossed my wake” — on August 12, 2024. That was in Chicago, IL, which is where I began the trip. I’d had my boat shipped out there from Olympia by a boat shipping company. Since then, I’d bought a boat trailer for it and planned to haul it back to Washington myself. This would be a 3 part (or)deal: fly home with my pups, haul the empty trailer back to the Chicago area (2000 miles), and haul the boat back to Puget Sound (2150 miles).

Chicago to Malaga

Deep Dish Pizza
Deep dish pizza at the Navy Pier. I was a total tourist.

I spent Monday and Tuesday in Chicago taking care of personal chores. I needed an eye exam and my pups needed grooming. I had Chicago deep dish pizza, which I really like.

On Wednesday, I cruised to Waukegan, where I planned to have the boat hauled out when I returned with the trailer. When I arrived, I was pretty sick with classic flu-like symptoms. I took a Covid test and, for the first time ever, got a positive result.

Shit.

I flew home (masked) with Covid on Thursday. I got a prescription for Paxlovid that cost a small fortune. Because my housesitter would be living in my house until month-end, I stayed in my truck camper in the garage. It was comfortable. The air conditioning worked great and was needed. The new garage bathroom was very good.

I spent a lot of time sleeping. My body clock got completely screwed up. NyQuil became my evening elixir, helping me sleep.

Boat trailer In Garage
I used my Jeep to get the trailer out of the garage.

On Monday, I felt good enough to get the boat trailer out of the garage. I needed to use the Jeep, which has a hitch on the front. I honestly don’t know how I got it in there — I had a heck of a time getting it out. Then I packed the truck with the things I’d need to come home, including the “Oversize Load” banners and a long tape measure.

I still tested positive for Covid.

On Tuesday morning, I was ready to go. I’d decided to stop and have my local trailer guy check things over before I left. I showed up there at 7:30 AM. He looked it over and found some problems with wheels and one of the brakes. I kicked myself for not bringing it by sooner, then unhitched it, left it with him, and went home.

Driving East

On Wednesday morning, still testing positive for Covid, I went to pick up the trailer and start the 2,000 mile trip to Waukegan. I would take I-90 almost all the way. It would give me an opportunity to review the route before I headed west with the boat in tow.

The boat trailer is about 36 feet long. It’s a bumper pull so wide turns are required. I fueled up with the big rig truckers at truck stops.

Fueling the Truck
I fueled at truck stops.

My dogs and I stayed at crappy cheap motels along the way. Covid was a definite issue; I still had plenty of symptoms and was exhausted at the end of each day. We’d get to the hotel, I’d walk my pups, I’d drag my luggage in, I’d feed my pups, I’d walk them again, and then we’d all go to bed, usually before 8 PM.

In the morning, I’d wake before dawn. When it got light, I’d feed and walk my pups and then put them in the truck. If the motel offered breakfast, I’d choke down some cooked powered eggs and greasy sausage. Then I’d go back to my room, get my luggage, drag it back to the truck, and leave.

I got decent mileage — about 15 mpg. I was fueling once or twice a day, getting at least 500 miles behind me each day.

On Saturday, when I got close, I stopped at a Discount Tire to get my truck’s tires rotated and the trailer tires checked and properly inflated. The trailer tires had plenty of tread, so I figured they’d be fine.

I stopped at a Walmart supermarket for provisions.

At Waukegan

We arrived at the boat yard in Waukegan on Saturday afternoon. The yard was closed. Fortunately, I had a key card from my previous stay that opened the gate.

I spent the weekend prepping the boat to be hauled — all the canvas and the mast and antenna had to be taken down and any seat covers had to be secured. It was brutally hot — there was a heat wave in the Chicago area — and I could only work in short bursts with rest and cool-down periods in between. It took all day Sunday to get the boat 90% ready. I’d take care of the other 10% on Monday morning.

I ordered my Oversize Load permits on Sunday. The woman at JJ Keller who helped me was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. She asked me dumb questions, insisted I needed a DOT number that I didn’t need, and then gave me misinformation about my route. But the permits started arriving via email the first thing Monday morning.

I was still testing positive for Covid, although my symptoms had faded to just a cough.

On Monday, around midday, they hauled the boat out and put it on the trailer. That was a fiasco. The trailer, which had originally hauled someone else’s much older R-29, had the bunkers set up for a different hull configuration. It took the guys at the marina three hours to figure that out. In the meantime, we kept launching and retrieving the boat on the boat ramp. The bow of the boat struck the front of the trailer frequently enough to cause some damage to the gelcoat.

Hauling out
They started out okay, using the Travelift to pull the boat out.

Finally, by 4 PM, the boat was secure on the trailer. Of course, it was too late for me to leave so I wound up spending the night in the boat, parked on the ramp in front of the marina.

My rig
It took all afternoon to get the boat on the trailer and it still wasn’t quite right.

I took a cool shower to cool down before going to bed. I didn’t care that the water splashed out onto the asphalt in front of the building.

Driving West

I got underway at sunrise on Tuesday morning. I was still testing positive for Covid, but I was feeling much better. The only symptom was a cough that came and went. There wasn’t even that much phlegm.

I went through my first weigh station less than 10 miles from my starting point. I rolled onto the scale and a voice came through a loudspeaker, asking if I was hauling the Minnow from Gilligan’s Island. I told him I hoped not. The light turned green and I rolled out.

Flat Tire
One flat gave me the idea I was towing a time bomb.

I got a flat tire on the trailer four hours into the drive. Fortunately, BoatUS sent out a tire change guy for me. He pointed out that although the tread looked fine, the tires were six years old. I suddenly felt as if I were towing a time bomb. How long before another tire blew? So rather than just get the spare replaced, I drove directly to a Discount Tire an hour away and had all six trailer tires replaced.

Tire Replacement
My rig couldn’t fit into the garage at Discount Tire.

I spent the first night at a truck stop in Rapid City, SD. I arrived after sunset and the place was jam packed. By some miracle, I was able to back my rig into a narrow semi parking spot. I still can’t believe I did it after the day I’d had.

Truck Stop Parking
I can’t believe I parked here.

In the morning of Day 2, it was very foggy. I didn’t get started until almost 10 AM.

Later, while climbing a steep hill in hot weather, the Check Engine light went on. The truck seemed to drive okay, but I started rethinking the route the idiot at JJ Keller had given me. Because Google Maps takes people off I-90 and onto US 212, a slightly shorter route through the Crow Indian reservation, before rejoining I-90, I would be away from the Interstate for several hours. I had been on Route 212 before and I knew that there were very few facilities along the way. If the truck decided to die, dying on that route would not be optimal. So I decided to ignore the route and stay on I-90, even though my permits said I’d be on US 212.

Of course, that caused raised eyebrows at a truck weight station I did need to get out at in Wyoming. Although I’d purchased my permit the day before — it was the only state JJ Keller couldn’t buy the permit for — my permit showed the wrong route. I explained my dilemma and the folks there just updated my permit with the new route and sent me on my way.

I pulled into a watercraft inspection station in Wyoming near the end of the day and waited while they inspected the hull and bilge. (For the record, I’d had the hull power washed and bilge cleaned when it was taken out of Lake Michigan.) They didn’t find anything, but they wanted to attach a hose to my engine water intake and have me run the engine. I said no. I told them there was no way that I’d start an engine that cost $25K to $40K to replace unless the boat was in the water. They were fine with that.

Watercraft Inspection Station
The first watercraft inspection station I stopped at was in Wyoming.

But by the time they’d finished searching the boat, it was too late to get to my destination 150 miles away. The rest area where they’d inspected me was very nice so I just spent the night there. It was wonderfully quiet.

RestStop Parking
I parked overnight at a really nice rest stop.

The Truck Part
This is the part that caused the Check Engine light to come on.

On Day 3, I hunted down a place that could read the code for the check engine light. It was an air intake temperature sensor. I was at O’Reilly and bought the part for $30. They gave me instructions on replacing it, but I didn’t feel comfortable doing it myself. I tried a Ford dealer and another car fixit place in Sheridan, WY but neither one was willing to do the 10 minute job without making me wait at least two weeks. Jeez! I continued on my way.

Locked boat
This boat lock is a bad joke.

I got to the Montana watercraft inspection station late in the day, still about 100 miles from that night’s destination. They found zebra mussels on my trim tabs. At least a dozen very tiny ones. They delayed me for more than an hour while they sprayed down the entire hull with hot water. Then they did something I considered ridiculous: they locked my boat to the trailer with a cable lock that any decent bolt cutter would cut right through.

Boat Wash
They washed down the hull of the boat with 140°+ water.

When they finally let me go, I was able to do another 25 miles before stopping at a truck stop for the night. I walked to the restaurant next door for an Asian chicken salad to go. When I got back to the boat, I discovered there was no dressing on the salad. It was that kind of night.

In the morning, I started before dawn. It was day 4 and I was eager to get to my destination at Des Moines, WA before 4 PM, so they could launch the boat before the holiday weekend. But it was not to be. I had two more watercraft inspection stations.

Idaho didn’t find anything and let me go after stamping Montana’s paperwork.

Thirty miles later, Washington’s crew found a few more mussels. They sprayed down the boat again. This was where things could get ugly; they had the power to force me to keep the boat out of the water for 30 days. I pointed out that the boat was going into salt water, which would kill any remaining mussels. Finally, after pouring hot water into my bilge (which the bilge pump eventually removed), they unlocked the boat and let me go.

But that time, there was no way I’d get to Des Moines before 4 PM. I rolled up at 5, unlocked the gate, and backed my rig in. I spent the night right there.

At Des Moines
I parked for the night in the boatyard.

The Des Moines Fiasco

Because it was Labor Day weekend and I’d already seen the eastbound traffic the previous afternoon, I was in no hurry to get into Saturday morning traffic to get home. So I stayed at the marina and spent the entire morning reinstalling all my canvas, lines, fenders, and anything else I needed to get the boat ready to go. Finally, around 1 PM, I headed home, making a stop at Trader Joe’s along the way.

It was a three-hour drive, which actually seemed short after all the driving I’d been doing.

My house sitter was gone so I went right into my house. He’d left it pretty clean, although using the vacuum did not seem to be part of his clean up process. I didn’t care. There were clean sheets on the bed. I made myself some dinner and was asleep by 8 PM.

Did I mention I still tested positive for Covid?

I left home at 5 AM on Tuesday so I could get to the marina early enough to get the boat into the water. When I did some heavy braking in traffic near Seattle, that check engine light went off. (Go figure, huh?)

I stopped at a supermarket for provisions along the way.

I got to the marina right around 9:15 AM. I stopped in the office to tell them I was there and ask them to look at the damage on my bow.

Bow Damage
It cost me $300 to have the damage to the bow ground out (shown here) and then filled and painted. I have to give the worker credit, though. He did an excellent job.

They came out to look 2 hours later. They fixed the damage 3 hours after that. So now the boat had fresh paint beneath the waterline. They could not launch it that day. All thoughts of a quiet anchorage that night on my way to Roche Harbor evaporated.

As for my thruster battery, which I’d told them the week before needed replacing, they did not have the battery on hand and insisted on wasting time “diagnosing” the problem. I paid $350 for them to tell me I needed a new thruster battery. (Duh.) Then I paid more than $500 for the battery, which they did not have until noon the next day. So instead of launching my boat on Tuesday so I could have a nice, leisurely cruise from Des Moines to Roche Harbor — a distance of about 85 nautical miles — I had to haul ass out of Des Moines and run at top speed to get there before sunset on the same day.

And don’t even get me started on the vehicle parking issues at Des Moines. I had to get a special permit to park my truck and trailer for the 5 days I’d be cruising in the San Juan Islands. Normally, they don’t allow overnight parking at all.

I was very disappointed with CSR South services and the marina’s parking policy. I will not be back with my boat. I’ve already arranged for a one-way car rental from Anacortes to fetch my truck. I’ll use Anacortes as my base until it’s time to pull the boat out for the winter.

The only good news: I tested negative for covid on Tuesday morning.