On Being an Early Riser

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For a long time now, I’ve been an early riser. Sometimes, a very early riser.

While I clearly remember my college days when it was nearly impossible for me to wake up in time for an 8 AM class and my early professional career days when I dreaded hearing the alarm go off at 6:30 AM, I can’t remember when I made the switch from late riser to early riser. I suppose it was a gradual change as I aged, embraced my freelance lifestyle, and allowed my life to go off-schedule.

For the past 20 or more years, I haven’t had much of a need to set an alarm or wake up at a certain time. Every day is different. Although I do occasionally have early appointments or even earlier planes to catch — my favorite flight out of Wenatchee when I’m traveling leaves at 5:40 AM; yes, I do set an alarm for that — there usually isn’t any reason to get out of bed by a certain time.

I go to sleep when I’m tired and wake up naturally when my body is done sleeping. Or thinks it’s done sleeping. Yet these days, I’m invariably up before 6 AM, often before 5 AM, and occasionally before 4 AM. (If you read the blog post about my recent cruise, you learned that I was up most mornings by 4 AM.) I am naturally an early riser.

Some folks seem to think this is a problem. They have encouraged me to stay up later in an effort to shift my body’s clock forward a few hours so it’s more in line with everyone else’s. I’ve tried this. No matter what time I go to sleep, I’m awake before 6 AM — even if I stay up until a crazy time like 3 AM. And I don’t know about you, but I operate better on six hours of sleep than three. It’s fortunate that I apparently don’t need eight.

I like being an early riser. I like getting up around dawn in the summer or in the darkness of a winter morning. I like the quiet and the solitude of those early hours before most people are awake. I like hearing the crickets in the dark as I brew my morning coffee and my rooster crowing almost precisely a half hour before dawn. I even like the sound of the sprayers in the orchards below my home during the summer months, and seeing the headlights of the tractors as they make their way between rows of trees in the dark.

Do you want a more detailed description of a summer sunrise at my home? Read “Sunrise from Lookout Point.”

I like watching each new day being born — the gradual brightening of the sky, the fading of the stars and city lights, the glow to the east, the golden hour sunlight light tentatively touching the mountaintops to the west and then slowly blanketing their slopes all the way down into the valley.

Morning View
I never get tired of the morning view out my windows.

I like the fact that I can experience all of this at my own home, at my own convenience. I like taking my morning coffee out onto the deck and looking out over the new day as cool air caresses my skin and hair and the aroma of a recent rain or my fresh cut lawn competes with the smell of what’s in my mug.

I’m a morning person and get most of my work done in the morning. That’s good and bad. It’s good because it leaves the rest of the day wide open. But it can be bad if I have a lot to do and I run out of steam by 2 PM. I try to manage this drawback by scheduling appointments in the afternoon whenever possible, leaving the morning open to accomplish the things I need to do.

My usual routine consists of morning coffee as soon as I get up — whenever that is — and quiet time to reflect and write in my journal. Then I sit down at my computer and do some writing or paperwork or both. “Paperwork” usually consists of bill paying and filing, website maintenance, correspondence, client communication, and marketing material creation for my businesses. That usually takes me to 10 or 11 AM. Then I switch into more active work around my home or in my garden. There’s always something that needs to be done, especially as I finish up construction work that includes the tedious task of trimming doors, etc.

If I have scheduled an appointment or have errands to run in town, I’ll clean up, dress appropriately, and head down into town with Penny. I always have a list of destinations on a Post-It note stuck to my windshield so I don’t forget anything — I live 10 miles from town and I don’t like to make the trip more than once a day if I don’t have to. I keep shopping lists on my smartphone for the same reason. I can get a lot done on one trip into town if I stay focused and organized.

By 6 PM — especially in the winter when it’s already dark — I’m pretty much physically and mentally done for the day. That’s the time I set aside for socializing with friends and relaxing. I even find it difficult to write during this time, although I’ve been trying hard lately to make that my blogging time, leaving the morning open for writing jobs that bring in revenue. If I went to town earlier in the day, I sometimes meet up with friends in the late afternoon or early evening: wine at Pybus Market, cocktails at the Sidecar Lounge, dinner at Tastebuds, or a movie at Liberty or Gateway Cinema. If I’m home, I sometimes try a new recipe — I’ve recently rediscovered my love of cooking — and read the news or waste time on social media while eating it.

I think I watch too much television these days — more than an hour a day when I’m home in the evening — and it bugs me; my wasband was a slave to the television, channel surfing for hours every evening when he could have been working to achieve one of the life goals he claimed to have. I worry I might end up like him: unproductive and stuck in a rut.

I love to read, but if I do it in bed, I’m usually asleep within minutes. So I try not to read in bed before 9 PM.

I’m usually asleep by 10 PM — unless I’m out with friends or entertaining.

I don’t think I can adequately express how happy I am to be single and have full control of my life and time. There’s no one trying to put me on his schedule or make me share his time-consuming responsibilities. I do the things I want or need to do when I want or need to do them. I don’t have to schedule my life around someone else’s.

Best of all, I can wake up any time I like and not have to tiptoe around my home because someone else is sleeping.

I admit that I’m very fortunate to have the flexible lifestyle I have. But it isn’t “luck.” I’m a firm believer in the notion that we make our own luck. I worked hard to get where I am today and having this lifestyle is the reward for all that work. I’m a morning person and I earned the right to enjoy my mornings.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A Bahamas Getaway

Four November days in the tropics.

Last week was my sister’s birthday. Because she was so incredibly supportive during my crazy divorce and while I was building my home, I decided to visit her in Florida.

And take her on a cruise to the Bahamas.

Regular blog readers may recall me writing about cruises just a month or so ago. They may have gotten the impression that I hated cruising. That isn’t true. My first cruise experience was amazing. My second was disappointing. I try to be open minded about these things. Maybe my second cruise was disappointing for reasons that had nothing to do with cruising. (Cruise companion, maybe? Just a thought.) I decided I needed to try it again to see if cruising was something I should embrace for future vacations or forget about.

Of course, I booked the cruise only a few weeks before the cruise date. And our dates were set — my sister had only certain days off from work. I needed a cruise that left from Florida and returned to the same place within the dates I had to work with. There were not many options, as you might imagine. I wound up going with the Norwegian Cruise Lines’ “4-Day” Bahamas cruise.

I put “4-day” in quotes because the cruise left on a Monday and returned on a Friday. Most tour companies would call that a 5-day cruise. But NCL is apparently not like most companies. We boarded at noon on Monday and disembarked at 9 AM on Friday. In my book, that’s almost five full days — even if most of Monday and Friday were spent in the Port of Miami.

Although I tried to keep the following short, there’s a lot to report and share. So grab a Bahama Mama and read on.

Day 0: Ft. Pierce and Miami Beach

We actually started in Elkton, FL, where my sister lives. That’s near St. Augustine in the far north of Florida. I waited until the last minute to tell her about the cruise. In fact, I waited until she asked me straight out where we were going. She’d guessed that we were going to Key West and I never told her whether we were or weren’t. I just replied that I liked Key West. But when she asked me on Saturday where we were going, I told her. Then I grabbed her passport and checked her in to stop the flood of email messages I was getting from the cruise ship company warning of dire consequences if we didn’t check in on time.

On Sunday, we drove down to Ft. Pierce. My 76-year-old dad is recovering from a motorcycle accident. Yes, he was the one on the motorcycle. A broken nose, 6 cracked vertebrae, 2 broken ribs, and 4 broken pelvis bones later, he’s got a lot of healing to do. Intensive care in the hospital followed by a week or two in rehab and now home with a hospital bed in the living room, wheel chair, and visiting physical therapist. It made sense that we should visit him on our way to Miami, so we did.

Three Langers
Three Langers: me, my sister Laura, and my daredevil dad.

He looks a lot better than I expected, but he’s lost a ton of weight. He never was very heavy (I didn’t get my fat genes from my father’s gene pool) and now he’s pretty bony. I hope he puts some weight back on soon.

But not before he can walk.

He knows his motorcycling days are over, but since he lives on the water, I think this is a perfect time for him to replace that old Honda with a WaveRunner. Hitting the water likely won’t break as many bones.

The Beacon
The Beacon Hotel on Monday morning. That’s Laura smoking in the shade out front.

After a great lunch at a local fish place, my sister and I hit the road, continuing our journey south. I’d made reservations at The Beacon at Miami’s South Beach. It’s one of the many historic art deco hotels right on the ocean. We got in just after dark and the whole Ocean Drive strip was hopping with live music and people enjoying food and drink at the dozens of sidewalk restaurants. I was very glad to hand over the car to a valet.

I’d mentioned in my reservation that it was my sister’s birthday and was pleasantly surprised to find a bottle of champagne chilling on ice in our room when we arrived. As you might imagine, I wasted no time opening up that puppy. The two of us drank about three quarters of it before Laura dozed off. When it became clear that she wasn’t fit for partying, I changed into something more suitable and went out on my own. After an invigorating walk up and then back down Ocean Drive — with plenty of photos taken along the way — I found a restaurant with a menu I liked. My dinner consisted of white gazpacho, escargot (in the shell), and a vodka martini with four olives. The key lime pie I got for dessert satisfied my craving — and south Florida is the only place you can get a decent key lime pie. I’d tell you the name of the restaurant, but I can’t remember or figure out on Google Maps which one it is. (Remember, I started the evening with about a half bottle of champagne in me.) I do know it was between 6th and 7th Streets, with outdoor dining that spilled over onto the sidewalk as most South Beach restaurants do.

South Beach at Night
South Beach at night.

Needless to say, I finished off the rest of the champagne when I got back to the room.

Day 1: Port of Miami

Miami Beach Sunrise
Sunrise at Miami Beach. I watched the sun rise on every single morning of my Bahamas trip.

The next morning, we were up before dawn and headed out to watch the sun rise over the ocean. I mean, why not, right? We saw a few cruise ships and a container ship come in. Then back to our hotel for our included breakfast. We called for the car, checked out, and loaded up for our real destination: the Port of Miami where the Norwegian Sky awaited.

There was a lot of traffic.

We were all checked in by 10:45 AM. Then the wait for boarding time. I didn’t realize that the check in time and boarding time could be as much as 2 hours apart. We had to wait until noon. Then we were in the first boarding group and on board the ship, checking out our cabin, by 12:15 PM.

A few things about the ship: Norwegian Sky is a smaller ship, built in 1999 but renovated most recently in 2013. It holds just over 2,000 passengers and just under 1,000 crew members. Passengers can access decks 3 through 12. There are three pools, 5 hot tubs, at least a dozen bars, 2 “freestyle” restaurants, a buffet, and 4 specialty restaurants. And a spa and a gym and some shops and a casino. You know — the usual cruise ship stuff. It was definitely not a deluxe ship, but it was in extremely good condition and immaculately clean.

I’ve always cruised with a balcony cabin and I’m not about to downgrade now, so I got us a midship outside cabin on Deck 9’s port side. The cabin was small but had two narrow beds, a small sofa, and a desk with a chair. The bathroom was small but functional and the climate control system was absolutely silent. The balcony was private with enough space for two chairs and a table.

Cabin 1 Cabin 2
Our cabin on the Norwegian Sky.

I know that some folks say that a balcony room is a waste of money. How much time do you spend on the balcony? In my case, a lot of time. My problem is that I don’t like hanging around with loud, drunk strangers (and their kids, who really should be in school). Apparently that’s a good description of about 50% of a cruise ship’s passengers. So while they lounge around the pool getting drunk[er], make repeat trips to the buffet getting fat[ter], and do their best to emulate a frat party at a school where academic achievement is not high on anyone’s priority list, I’m doing my best to avoid them. A private balcony overlooking the Caribbean or a port city is perfect for this.

Miami Beach
A view up Miami Beach from the comfort of our balcony as Norwegian Sky pulled out of port on Monday evening.

We spent much of the early afternoon wandering around the ship, getting to know it a little better. We found food and later found our bags as they were being delivered to our cabin. We unpacked. Later, we watched the ship pull out of port, which is something we’d do each day. Then we showered and dressed for dinner.

People who know me know that I’m a bit of a foodie. So when I booked the cruise and was offered a choice of beverage, dining, or $50 excursion voucher, you can bet I took the dining package. That entitled us to three meals at one of the specialty restaurants. These turned out to be rather impressive fine dining establishments with great food, wonderful service, and an atmosphere guaranteed to turn off most of the partiers. The regular price also played into who would dine at a specialty restaurant — they ranged in price from $19.99 to $29.99 extra per person. Of course, we didn’t have to pay this.

Lots of folks asked me if I got the beverage package. This would entitle me to all the alcohol I could drink every day. It also explains why so many people were perpetually drunk. But although I do enjoy wine with dinner and a nice vodka martini now and then, I’d much rather have good food every night than get shitfaced drunk every day. Does that honestly surprise anyone?

The first night, we had steaks at Cagney’s, the steakhouse on Deck 12. It was a great meal. At the end of the meal, they brought a third dessert and sang Happy Birthday to Laura.

Pool Deck at Night
The pool deck early in the evening, before things really started rocking.

We didn’t do much afterwards except walk around and marvel at the number of people crammed into the four hot tubs. I don’t know about you, but the idea of sharing a hot tub with up to a dozen drunk strangers grosses me out.

The party had begun.

The had boat started to roll a little in the offshore swells while we were at dinner. That brought back memories of my first cruise, when I’d battled seasickness one evening — formal night, of course — in rough seas. But things soon calmed down and it was smooth sailing by the time we went down to bed. The sea was kind to us for the rest of the trip.

Day 2: Freeport, Grand Bahama

We slept with the door to the balcony open. It was much warmer outside than inside, but with the air conditioner adjusted just right, it was very comfortable in the narrow but cozy bed. Best of all, we could hear the sound of the waves against the hull as the ship steered through the Straits of Florida on a dark, moonless night at about 8 knots.

How do I know we were moving at about 8 knots? The GPS on my phone. I am a geek.

I woke at about 3 AM and stepped outside. I could still see the glow from Miami far behind us, reflecting against some low clouds to the west. There were a handful of lights much closer and I used my binoculars to study them. Over the next few nights, I got the knack of distinguishing ships from lighted buoys and cruise ships from tankers and cargo ships.

Comm Tower Reflection
The communication tower at the front of the ship, shot from Deck 12. Note the reflection; the crew washed the decks pretty much every morning.

By 4 AM, I realized I wasn’t going to be going back to sleep. I slipped on a pair of lounge pants, grabbed my slippers and room key, and headed out in search of coffee. I’d been told the night before that coffee wasn’t available until 6:30 AM, but I suspected that wasn’t exactly true. I poked around a bit, wandering decks where crew members were busy cleaning up the previous night’s party. Two guys were hard at work power washing the wooden deck around the pool. I walked barefoot in the wet areas to keep my slippers dry and donned my slippers in the dry areas.

I discovered that the best place to see in front of us was the area outside the forward bar on Deck 11, where I could stand at the railing with the wind blowing through my hair and clothes. Upstairs, on Deck 12, the forward deck area had a high glass panel that blocked the wind and made photography sketchy.

Eventually, I made my way to the port side of Deck 11. Some crew members were working in the sport bar there and when I asked them about coffee, they guided me to a pair of urns — regular and decaf — positioned just outside the roped-off buffet area. I filled a cup while kitchen staff worked hard to stock the serving area with the cold and room temperature items we’d soon be eating: fruit, yogurt, jams, jellies, butter, dried fruit, granola, bread. The hot items would come later, just before the buffet opened. I was thrilled to get good, hot coffee before 5 AM.

Frankly, I think the cruise line is missing out on a revenue opportunity. If they kept the coffee bar on Deck 7 open 24 hours a day — instead of waiting until 11 AM to open (what’s up with that?) — they could be cleaning up on espresso and latte sales around the clock.

Coffee in hand, I went back to the cabin. Laura was still asleep. I drank coffee on the balcony, then got dressed, grabbed my binoculars, phone (camera), and journal and headed back out. I camped out on the aft area of Deck 11 with a fresh cup of coffee and wrote in my journal. My only complaint is that the music was too loud. Indeed, I’d later realize that there was music pretty much all over the boat almost 24 hours a day. So not only was our balcony the most private outdoor space, but it was also the quietest.

Laura found me a while later. We watched the sun rise as we came into Freeport Harbor.

Freeport Sunrise
Sunrise, on approach to Freeport Harbor.

Carnival Fantasy at Freeport
The Carnival Fantasy followed us into port.

Dock workers and crew men had almost finished tying up the ship when another ship crept into port. It was the Carnival Fantasy, a ship roughly the same size as ours, which we’d see again the next day. The port, which was dead quiet when we arrived, was soon very lively with shops and straw market booths. Things got even livelier as the ships began to disgorge passengers.

Freeport Harbor
Here’s Freeport Harbor after our departure. The Carnival ship left not long after us. By the time we pulled out, the port area had already closed up for the night and was completely deserted.

The whole cruise ship thing is so weird to me. Take a community with a few thousand inhabitants and park two mobile cities, each with 3,000 or more people, in it. Let the people out to shop, drink, and dine. Then, at the end of the day, gather up the mobile cities’ inhabitants and move them out, leaving the people who live there to clean up, count their revenue, and share stories from the day. Repeat daily — or almost daily — for most of the year. It’s just too weird for words. Maybe that’s why so many of the cruise ship ports are so far from where people actually live. Maybe that’s why they’re artificial environments, designed to meet tourists’ expectations rather that reflect the actual culture and lifestyle of the people who live there. And in nearly all of the shops in all of the ports were the same “Bahamas” branded, brightly colored dresses, shirts, skirts, and tote bags the tourists apparently want to buy.

I think that’s what bothered me most about the Alaska cruise I did back in 2007. There’s so much native culture in the area, but it was hidden away beyond the often tacky, touristy port areas few passengers left.

Laura Poses with Ship
Laura posed beside the ship in Freeport.

Don’t get me wrong — I know these people need to make a living. And I’m glad, in a way, that I can help them do so. But it’s unfortunate that tourists care more about buying trinkets and taking packaged tours than learning more about the natural and cultural history of the place they’re visiting.

Meanwhile, we’d signed up for a sail and snorkel trip. Laura had never been snorkeling and I’m always up for a sailboat ride. We got on a line, signed a waiver, got on a charter bus, and then drove across the narrow island to Port Lucaya. There were about 40 people in our group. The bus driver was a very friendly guy — heck, everyone who lives in the Bahamas seems to be friendly — who did his best to make the 20 minute bus ride informative and enjoyable. He mixed tour guide patter with lots of information about the Bahamas and Grand Bahama island. I actually remembered quite a bit of it, which was funny when the driver on the way back tested us and I knew most of the answers. Of course, he does it all for tips and we obliged on our way out.

Sailing
A shot back at my fellow passengers on the port side of the sailboat before the sails went up. Is it my imagination or do they look bored and a little unhappy?

After giving us a safety briefing of sorts, they handed out swim fins, snorkel masks, and snorkel vests and put us on a large trimaran. For reasons I can’t quite comprehend, no one seemed interested in sitting on the netting between the hulls. Except me. I got myself a nice seat right up front. Laura hung back with our big bag of stuff. We headed out on engine power, navigating the harbor past other boats and businesses. Once we got out into open water, the crew — there was a captain with two crew members — hoisted up the two main sails. The breeze barely caught them, but the captain killed the engines anyway and we continued at a slow pace over shallow water, past parked dive boats and parasailing boats speeding by with parachutes in trail. After about 20 minutes of that, even the captain got impatient. He started the engine and we turned to the south, paralleling the beach and the reef we’d passed over. Then we turned east again, heading inland. When we got back over the reef, he killed the engine. The crew took down the sails and dropped anchor. We had arrived.

We snorkeled for a while. The water was a bit choppy but predictably warm. There were fish everywhere, but there wasn’t much variety or even color. The reef was below six to eight feet of water and showed signs of severe damage likely caused by storms, ship anchors, and uneducated tourists. I’d learned years before while snorkeling at John Pennekamp Coral Reef State Park at Key Largo that coral is extremely fragile to the point that simply touching it could damage it. Yet at no time were we warned not to touch the coral — except a certain kind that could cause pain or itching. (“Mustard color with white tip will surely ruin your snorkel trip.”) As a result, this frequently visited reef off the coast of Grand Bahama is a sad shadow of what it might once have been. I can only hope that there are lots of other coral reefs where they don’t take tourists every day. Still, I did see some nice coral specimens and some interesting fish. But not enough to keep me in the water. I was the first one back on the ship.

The trip back was direct and much quicker. They didn’t bother with the sails. My fellow passengers were much more relaxed and a few even joined Laura and I on the net area, although by that time I’d moved to the forward end of the port hull where I could dangle my feet over the water and get wet.

Freeport Food Tips

If you find yourself at Freeport or Port Lucaya, try these places for good food:

  • Big Daddy’s. This is the kiosk at Port Lucaya where we bought our lunch. Unbelievably fresh conch and lobster. This place has a big following; Google it and see for yourself. Or learn more about conch and Big Daddy’s in this blog post.
  • Bootleg Chocolates. Amazing chocolate made on the premises.
  • Pier One Restaurant. We didn’t eat here but a man from Chicago on line at Big Daddy’s was raving about it. Don’t let its outside appearance spook you; we passed it as we came into port and it looks a bit funky.

Back at Port Lucaya, we had about an hour to kill until our bus ride back. We were hungry and went in search of food. A fellow snorkeler mentioned a conch kiosk near the dock and we made our way there. Inside was a big man with a big knife cutting up the ingredients for conch salad while a companion worked over a fryer. We ordered “fried conch with fritters” which turned out to be exactly that: fried conch with a side of conch fritters. The fried conch was tender and tasty; the fritters were also good but mostly bread.

After watching a fisherman remove a few freshly caught conchs from their shells, we found a spot in the shade in front of nearby Bootleg Chocolates to eat our lunch. An older woman also enjoying the shade urged us to get some chocolate before leaving. She told us a little about the owner of the shop. Since we’d used their shade, I thought a visit was in order. Besides, I love chocolate. We walked away with a 12-piece assortment and chocolate covered espresso beans, all of which was consumed before the end of our cruise.

We caught the bus back to Freeport and the ship. We walked around the shops for a while. We each bought small, brightly colored purses and I bought a dress. Then it was back to the ship to relax. Laura napped and I watched the latest Mission Impossible movie in the theater. (Wouldn’t you know it? They made the departure announcement just as the ticking time bomb scene came on screen so I never did hear what Ethan Hunt told the bad guy to get him to release the hostage.) The movie finished right as we left port and I hurried back upstairs to our cabin to watch Freeport drift away.

Dinner that night was at Le Bistro on Deck 5, another of the specialty restaurants. We enjoyed nicely prepared French food and great service. And when I couldn’t decide between two different desserts, they brought both of them.

Storm Cloud
This storm cloud reminded me uncomfortably of the smoke clouds I saw in Washington State this past summer.

We walked around the decks while the evening party was just getting started. I’d soon realize that every night they managed to squeeze more people into those hot tubs. After watching a storm to the east — possibly the remnants of Tropical Storm Kate — fade away into the night, we stopped at the Outrigger Lounge at the forward part of Deck 11. This was, by far, the most pleasant place on the ship for a drink. It was also almost always absolutely empty. We sat at the bar, where I ordered a Courvoisier VSOP, and we kept the bartender company. Later, on the beach at Grand Stirrup Cay, she’d remember us — a feat I consider remarkable.

Day 3: Nassau, New Providence

I woke early again the next morning and spent some time watching the stars, listening to the rush of the water from the balcony, and peering at the lights of other ships through my binoculars. Although our balcony light was out, our neighbors on either side had left theirs on and the light drifted into our space. A quick peek around the dividers showed that both cabins had their drapes closed tightly. Chances were that neither cabin’s occupants even knew their lights were on. Later that day, when I saw our cabin attendant, I asked him to shut the lights off when he cleaned the rooms. He had partial success; the occupants of the room to our left refused cabin service for the entire length of the trip. (Can you say dirty towels?)

I got dressed and went directly to coffee. Laura eventually joined me and we watched the ship pull into Nassau’s port where a Royal Caribbean ship was already waiting and two Carnival ships would join us.

By this time, we’d learned that early risers could get a quick, hot breakfast without any crowds at the Deck 11 buffet. I found the omelet station and had a freshly made omelet every morning, along with a pastry or bagel or muesli or fruit. By 7:30 AM, the place was a madhouse. But by then, we were already moving on to other things.

This wasn’t my first time to Nassau. I’d been there in 2011 with my wasband on a business trip. Back in those days, he sold AstroTurf — the real trademarked stuff — for a company based in the Deer Valley area of Phoenix. I’m pretty sure that the trip was a sales award. I do know that a coworker and his wife, Chris and Ruth, were also along, although I can’t remember if his idiot boss was. I also know that we stayed at the Atlantis resort and that I caught a nasty cold that pretty much ruined the trip for me. Although the cruise line’s excursions included several to Atlantis, I wasn’t that interested in going back, despite the fact that they have a real kick-ass water park with a mile-long lazy river.

Instead, we’d decided on a Segway tour. I’d been on a Segway twice and Laura had been on one once. I really like them — probably a lot more than I should. They are unbelievably unpractical to own but undeniably fun to ride.

Nassau Port Panorama
When we left the ship, I stopped at the bow of the Norwegian Sky to make this panoramic image. The fourth cruise ship, which docked to our right, had not yet arrived.

After waiting here, there, and everywhere, our guide loaded eight of us onto a taxi van and drove us to the Segway base at the local cricket club grounds. There, we were outfitted with helmets, elbow pads, and knee pads, signed the inevitable waiver, and got a lesson. Because Laura and I and two other people had already ridden Segways, our lessons were short and we were let loose in a practice area to do laps. The others got more intensive lessons before practice. Then we set off behind our guide in single file while a second guide followed and rode up and down our line to make sure we were all comfortable with what we were doing and keeping up. He also had a Stop sign on a post and occasionally used it to stop traffic on main roads so we could cross in a group.

Laura and Maria on Segways
Do we look goofy enough in our protective gear on these off-road Segways?

I should mention here that Segways have two operating settings: beginner (or turtle) mode and standard mode. As you might have guessed, turtle mode is purposely slow, no more than 8 mph. Standard mode is faster, up to 12.5 mph. This particular tour company kept all of us in turtle mode for the duration of the tour. This was likely due to the rough terrain, which included grass, gravel, sand, cracked pavement, bumps, and tree roots. They used all-terrain model Segways, which featured larger, more heavily treaded tires.

We rode to Junkanoo Beach, where we stopped briefly and our guide gave us some background information about the area and took photos of us with our cameras. Then back on for a short while before another stop and more information. Then back toward our starting point with a third stop at the Fish Fry where we got a history lesson about the strip of restaurants in the area and lecture about the local food, beer, and drink. (I vaguely remember taking a limo ride to the Fish Fry from Atlantis on my previous visit to Nassau, although I can’t remember details. Cold medicine really hits me hard sometimes.) Although it was still early in the day, we all voted to stop into one of the restaurants, which were just opening, for a drink. Laura and I opted for a Bahama Mama. I figured I had to try one before the end of the trip and it must be a breakfast drink because it had juice in it. It was refreshing and I admit that it made the remainder of the morning a tiny bit more fun. Afterwards, it was back to the cricket club grounds for a race between riders on a slalom course set in the patchy grass. I was matched with one of the experienced German riders and I’m proud to say that I beat him, without knocking over a single cone, despite the rum I’d just consumed. (U-S-A! U-S-A!)

We parked the Segways and stripped off our protective gear. I spoke for a while with the woman who owned the business and got some interesting information from her. More on that another time.

We got a ride back into town where, after a short peek into a few shops, went back to the cabin for some rest. That’s when the fourth cruise ship showed up. It was quite a monster, with a huge, three-tubed water flume on top for the kids. It turned around in the harbor and backed into its parking spot right next to us. Seriously: watching ships park and depart was a huge source of entertainment for us.

We went back into town a while later. Although we thought we might try walking to the Fish Fry for a late lunch/early dinner, we never got quite that far. Instead, we walked around the straw market and shops. On the way back to the ship, I saw a guy selling conch shells and bought one as a souvenir, making him describe in detail how the conch is removed before I left with my purchase. He did better: he demonstrated with a hammer he had with him.

Once again, we watched the ship prepping for departure. Because the dock was under our balcony, we could watch the passengers return in groups. The Sky’s crew had laid out red carpets on the way to the gangway. As usual, there were tents set up with beverages and a crew member handing out cool, wet cloths for arriving passengers. That afternoon, two rows of crew members also danced to some loud local music blaring from a sound system. A woman wearing stilts danced along with them, and more than a few of the passengers danced their way on board. It was very festive and I can’t help thinking it was part of a show put on to show the Carnival passengers, whose ship was docked across from ours, how much more fun Norwegian was. They had no amenities other than an shade tent with chairs for returning passengers. It was kind of funny to see two of their passengers dancing down our red carpet with our crew members before leaving the carpet to join the others on their way to the Carnival ship.

The Carnival Fantasy, which had come in just after us that morning, was the first to leave. It backed out into the open harbor area, made a 180° turn, and slipped out of the port. We did pretty much the same maneuver. It looked as if the larger Carnival ship went next, followed by the ship that had been first to arrive. But back on shore, Nassau was still partying. With all the hotels in the area, the city never really closes down. The last bit of entertainment came when the pilot boat rode alongside our ship and the pilot climbed out of a hatch and down a rope ladder to leave us.

Nassau at Night
Nassau was still partying as we sailed away after dark.

We took it easy for the rest of the evening. We had sushi for dinner at the Plantation Club on Deck 12. Although this was a specialty restaurant, we decided to save our last dinner, which we’d eat in the Italian restaurant, for the last night. Dinner wasn’t costly at all, which is kind of a good thing because the sushi wasn’t that good.

At sometime that day, I recalled that I’d bought iSailGPS, a nautical charting app for my iPad for use when I took my boat out in charted waters. I’d never installed it on my new iPad. So I splurged for an Internet connection on the ship, downloaded the app, and downloaded the NOAA chart for the Straits of Florida, which included the Bahamas. Before going to bed, I’d not only plotted our location on the chart via GPS but had found our next destination and calculated the distance. I really am a geek.

Day 4: Great Stirrup Cay, a Private Island

I didn’t sleep well on Wednesday night and was up multiple times during the night. Each time I woke up, I’d step out to the balcony with my binoculars to see what was out there. Once, I didn’t even have to step outside: I could see the Norwegian Escape cruise by in the opposite direction less than a mile away, right from my bed. But the thing that pleased me most: both of my neighbors’ balcony lights were turned off, giving me a nice, dark platform for star gazing.

I also consulted iSailGPS a few times so I knew how fast we were going — very slow — and where we were.

By 4 AM, I was up for the day so I dressed and went for coffee. I don’t know if I was imagining things, but it seemed as if there were more passengers awake earlier that day than usual.

Tender
A pair of double-decker tenders transported us between ship and shore.

Great Stirrup Cay is a private island owned by Norwegian Cruise Lines. It’s the northernmost island of the Berry Islands south of Grand Bahama Island. It sits in an area of very shallow water, so there’s no port. Instead, Norwegian ships drop anchor on the north side of the island and double-decker tender boats come out from the island to transport passengers. There isn’t even a dock on the island. Instead, they just lower a ramp and we walk off the boat, kind of like cattle arriving at a slaughter house. But with a more pleasant outcome, of course.

The island isn’t big — you can easily walk from one side to the other, as we did twice that day. The north side, facing the ship, has a series of beautiful sandy beaches all set up with lounge chairs facing the water. Most of the chairs in the back rows are paired up with clamshell shades that beach-goers can rent for $30/day. We rented one right away; neither of us wanted a full day of full sun. Farther up the island are cabanas that go for considerably more. There are restrooms, bars (of course), and buildings where you can rent snorkel gear, rafts, and floats; sign up for a WaveRunner, kayak, or snorkel tour; and get a buffet lunch between 11 AM and 2 PM. There’s a fee for everything except the sunny lounge chairs and the buffet and I suspect that Norwegian owns everything, so the private island must be quite revenue rich for them. But it was also beautiful, clean (at least when we arrived), and stress-free. Although there was a little straw market of shops with the same tourist merchandise we’d seen everywhere else, the people who worked there didn’t shout out to get you in the door or try to haggle with you to sell.

We went for a WaveRunner tour. Laura had never ridden one. I’d owned a pair of them for a few years starting back in around 2005 and had a lot of hours on them, mostly in Lake Pleasant north of Phoenix. (I love them and if I didn’t currently have a little jet boat, I’d have one again.) The tour folks offered single and double riding. In an effort to save a few bucks, we went double and Laura did the driving. There was about 20 people in our group and about half were riding double. They made us watch a video, then handed out life jackets and loaded us on board three-seated Yamaha WaveRunners very similar to one of the ones I’d owned.

Laura got off to a shaky start, but soon got the hang of it. We raced around water so clear and shallow that we could see the bottom most of the time. The guides were very good at keeping an eye on us without holding us back. We all spread out quite a bit, then gathered together and drifted in an area with very shallow water. The guides jumped in and emerged from the bottom with huge starfish that they passed around so we could feel their hard shell-like bodies. One by one, the guides tossed them back in and we watched them drift gently to the sea floor. When we left, I looked into the water and saw dozens of them as we raced by.

Even though I didn’t do any of the driving, I think that was the most fun excursion of the trip. Not quite sure what that says. I know it made me really wish I could take my boat out again soon. It also got me thinking that maybe I should drag my boat down to Arizona this winter.

We grabbed lunch at the buffet and went back to our shady clamshell on the beach to enjoy it. Then we just relaxed for a while. Laura went back in the water to cool down while I opted for a fresh water shower on the beach. I visited the Bacardi bar for a so-so mojito — not quite sweet enough, even for me — and realized what a perfect viewpoint it was for a photo. Later, I came back with my camera and took the photo I consider my best of the trip.

Great Stirrup Cay
No other image can say “Bahamas Cruise” better than this one.

Caribbean Sunset
Just another Caribbean sunset.

We were back on board the ship by 3 PM, although the last tender wasn’t due to leave until 4:30. I napped for about an hour, woken by the glare of the sun through the open balcony door as the ship turned around to head northwest. We watched the sun set from our balcony.

I consulted iSailGPS for our course back. Although Miami was due west, the water on the direct path back was very shallow so we’d have to go north before going west. Still, I could tell the Captain was serious about getting home. He had the speed cranked up to 14 knots — the fastest we’d gone all week — and we could really hear the wake as he plowed through the water.

Dinner that night was in the last of the specialty restaurants, Il Adiago on Deck 11. Although the food was very good, the service was a problem. It all seemed centered around a member of the bus staff who apparently thought he was a waiter. He took orders for wine when it was obviously the waiter’s job. (He screwed it up, too, by ordering wine for both of us when only one of us wanted wine.) He took away plates for one of us before both of us were finished eating. And he committed the ultimate dining service sin: he asked us if we wanted anything else before I’d finished eating. I let him have it, letting my tone of voice say more than my words: “I’d like to finish my meal before I think about dessert.” He apologized and left, returning only when my plate was empty and letting the waiter take our dessert order. If language wasn’t such a barrier on board, I probably would have spoken to the woman who had seated us about it. But English was a second language for most crew members and it really didn’t seem worth the effort to offer my negative feedback. I just hope they get the guy some decent training before he ruins someone else’s meal.

While we wanted to enjoy some of the ship’s entertainment that night, we were completely wiped out from our day in the sun. So we spent the rest of the evening relaxing before turning in early.

Day 5: Port of Miami

It should come as no surprise that I was up early the next morning. It was dark and a bit foggy. Floodlights illuminated the lower half of the ship — I think it was the Captain’s effort to keep us very visible as we entered the deeper water shipping lanes between Miami and the Bahamas. I checked out the warning buoys we passed as we rounded the northernmost part of the Great Bahama Bank. Then, as we turned to the southwest, I started taking note of the ships that seemed to be on the same course for Miami.

When we got closer, I got dressed, got some coffee, and went up to the wide open forward area of Deck 11. I monitored our progress on my iPad and soon saw the lights of Miami out in front of us.

Miami Approach
On approach to Miami. The lights really glow at night.

iSail
We were the blue asterisk with the line indicating direction as we approached the Port of Miami’s ship channel. I downloaded more detailed charts of the harbor as we got closer. Have I mentioned that I’m a geek?

It wasn’t long before I got a good cell signal. By the time we were in the channel, passing quickly between red- and green-lighted buoys, I was broadcasting on Periscope, sharing our arrival with anyone interested in tuning in. The broadcast went very long because I managed to keep quite an audience. I answered lots of questions and was very pleased when several viewers told me that they enjoyed my broadcasts. It got lighter and lighter as we came in past two parked cruise ships, including the AIDAvita, which looked like the perfectly sized cruise ship for the kind of cruising I’d like to do. (Unfortunately, I don’t speak German and their website isn’t in English. Likely a smart strategy for AIDA.) We got to the end of the cruise ship terminal area, made a 180° turn, and parked right where we’d left from on Monday evening.

It was about 6:30 AM.

There was no rush to get off the ship — we had until 9:30. Laura and I went down for breakfast. We tried one of the sit-down restaurants, but it was still closed so we wound up back at the buffet. As we walked back down to the room later to pack, we saw many passengers already on line with their luggage, waiting to get of the ship.

We packed leisurely and went through the room several times to make sure we hadn’t left anything behind. I’d managed to lose an earring that morning but it never showed up in lost-and-found before we finally departed.

Miami
Back to reality: one last look at Miami Beach from the ship.

Exiting the ship went very quickly. Yes, there was a line to get off the ship and another at Customs, but the lines moved quickly. A woman at the start of the Customs line steered us to a line where a young agent was examining passports and customs forms. He wasn’t checking bags and he didn’t ask to check ours. He took our forms and compared our passport photos to our faces. He seemed to do a double-take when he looked at mine. I laughed. “I have longer hair now and I’m much happier,” I told him. “You look it,” he replied as he handed back the passports and sent us on our way.

We found the car, loaded up our bags, and paid for parking on the way out. After stopping for gas in Miami, we got on Route 95 and headed north, back to reality.

Closing Thoughts

This was the “tiebreaker cruise” — the one where I’d decide whether I ever wanted to cruise again. I went into it with very low expectations and a pretty small investment. The result: no disappointment, but no big thrill, either.

You have to look at a cruise for what it is. When you get on board, you’re checking into a resort where all the basics — food, a room, and some amenities like a pool — are included. Like any resort, it’s full of people who bring their own personalities, preferences, and expectations with them. Those might not match yours. The resort travels from place to place and you get the benefit of visiting all the places it stops at — without having to pack and unpack for each move.

While it is possible to do the cruise we did for as little as about $250/person including taxes and fees, that doesn’t buy you much. In fact, you won’t even have a window in your room. But where else can you get a 4-night stay at a resort with all meals and amenities for that kind of money? When I bought the cruise tickets, it was with the knowledge that a four-night trip to Key West would have cost at least what I spent if we stayed in a decent hotel and had good meals — but we wouldn’t get the daily change of scenery.

If you want to fully experience a cruise, however, you have to enjoy some for-fee services on the ship and port excursions. And those aren’t cheap. We spent nearly as much on our three excursions as we did for our balcony cabin. So while a cruise looks like it could be cheap, it could also be very costly.

Of course, excursions don’t need to be booked through the cruise ship. If you do your homework in advance, you can find local tour operators who might offer better, cheaper options. But I didn’t do any homework. I’m a lazy traveler sometimes and that’s who cruises are for.

So would I do this again? Yes, but only after I did some more research. I’d try harder to find a cruise that was a match for me. More sophisticated travelers. Smaller, newer cruise ship. More interesting destinations. More personalized service. No kids — is that possible? And yes, I know this would cost more. But for the right cruise — a cruise that will WOW me — I’m willing to pay more.

Just not for a few years. I honestly don’t think cruising is something I want to do very often, no matter how good it sounds.

The New Chicken Coop

Third time is the charm?

I like having chickens. There’s nothing quite like fresh eggs laid by chickens in your own yard. Chickens that get to walk around all day and eat bugs and scrap veggies. Chickens that you feed and talk to and watch. I had chickens for much of the time that I lived in Arizona and really enjoyed not only the eggs, but the experience.

So it made sense that I should have chickens here at my new home. I got them as chicks in April 2014 and waited five months for them to start laying eggs. I started with eight of them, lost two early on, and lost a third when I got my rooster.

The First Chicken Yard and Coop

When the chicks grew to a size where they were ready for a chicken yard, my friend Mike and I built one out of 6-foot T-posts and 5-foot horse fencing. I blogged about the whole prep thing here.

A few weeks later, I built a coop — a building with roosting and nesting areas — for the chickens. I go into a lot of detail about that process here.

Chicken Coop
The finished chicken coop.

The coop was ugly, but the chickens didn’t seem to care. They roosted and nested and made eggs. I never did get around to putting shingles or any kind of protective material on the roof. It was just painted an ugly dark green and nearly flat so water soaked into it when it rained or snowed.

Meanwhile, the chicken yard was functional — it kept the chickens safe — but to keep out birds of prey I had to run bird netting over the top. I’m 5’6″ tall. The bird netting dipped down below 5 feet. Needless to say, going into the chicken yard was a bit of a nuisance. And since that’s where the eggs were, I had to go in daily to collect them.

The Second Chicken Yard

A friend of mine was creating much nicer chicken yards by building a frame and then fastening chicken wire on it. I had some 20-foot long palette wood that my building’s metal sheets had arrived on. In September, I cut them in half and, with some 6-foot 2x4s, built three frames. I used the same horse fencing inside each frame, running it vertically in 5×6 sections. Then, with the help of a friend and his mom, I assembled the three walls in place of the existing yard fencing with the coop on the outside of the yard. I built a door, added bird netting and some shade fabric I’d brought from Arizona on top, and had a new chicken yard. One I could stand up straight in.

Chicken Yard 2
Here’s the second chicken yard. The coop is outside the yard but the opening is inside. It didn’t look bad right after I built it.

As winter approached, I worried about my chickens keeping warm. Their coop’s doorway was very large and wouldn’t offer much shelter from a wind coming out of the east. If it snowed, their food would get wet and there wouldn’t be any place for them to walk without snow. I put some metal panels leftover from my building on top. This protected them and gave them shelter from rain. I fastened wood and metal panels around the north side and stacked up hay bales on the east. It was functional and the chickens seemed to be fine all winter, but by spring I couldn’t deny one simple fact: from the road, it looked trashy. And if there’s one word I don’t want applied to my property, it’s “trashy.”

Trashy Coop
My chicken setup looked trashy — there’s no other way to describe it.

The Hoop Yard

My next door neighbor, Michelle, got chickens in the spring. She built a chicken yard out of “hog panel” fencing hooped up and over into a rounded top. It looked great. Although she started out with a large coop inside the hoop, she later cut the coop in half and positioned it on one end of the yard, giving the chickens a lot more room inside and making it possible for her to walk around in there when she needed to. I started thinking about doing the same thing. But I’d also need a new coop; the nest boxes and perches in the one I’d originally built were falling apart.

Over the next few months, I bought some panels and started to plan. I was busy with other things — mostly finishing up my home — and it was brutally hot for most of the summer so I really didn’t want to work outside. But about four months ago, I got to work on the new yard, extending the chickens’ existing yard another 10 feet out the back side with the hoops. I liked the way the frameless design made the extended yard blend into the scenery. But it was too hot and I was too busy with other things to finish the job so I put it on the back burner.

Chicken Yard Extension
I added two 16 x 5 foot hog panels, hooped and fastened at the bottom between two 2x4s. This design is framed at the bottom and ends so it really blends into the scenery.

The New Coop

Getting Started
The entire coop is built on a series of pallets.

Nest Box
The coop begins to take shape with a roosting area, nest boxes, and porch.

Progress
The nest box roof is on a hinge so I can lift it up from outside to gather eggs.

Here’s the video I shot of the kittens playing in the coop I built.

Wheels
I added wheels to move it. The back wheels in this shot are my helicopter’s ground handling wheels which worked out okay on concrete but probably wouldn’t cut it on gravel.

About a month ago, I started making the new coop. I decided to build it with scrap material and to design it so it resembled my building. I’d even use the same metal for the walls and roof.

I had a lot of building materials, including lots of pallets in really good condition, lumber in all lengths and sizes, insulation leftover from my RV garage, Pergo flooring leftover from my home, Trex-style decking, leftover from my deck, and metal panels leftover from my building’s skin. Not only would I build a solid structure, but I’d insulate it to keep the chickens warm in winter and have a removable panel for ventilation in summer.

I got to work on the RV garage floor. I worked on it for a few hours a few times a week. Slowly but surely, it began to take shape.

At the same time, I was raising three kittens as a foster home for them and their mom. As the kittens grew and become more adventurous, they started playing in the coop as I worked on it. I captured some video one day. They’re gone now — a friend of mine adopted the whole family as barn cats — but they sure were cute.

At some point, I realized that the thing I was building weighed a ton. Well, not literally a ton, but a lot. A lot more than I could lift. I started thinking about how I was going to get it out of the garage and into place on the other side of my gravel driveway. My RV was parked out there at the time and that really restricted how much space I had to maneuver in.

I started by buying wheels for it and fastening some scrap 2×6 lumber to mount the wheels on. The hardest part was getting the damn thing off the ground so I could put the wheels on. I had to use my winch, mounted in my pickup truck’s bed. That made it possible to move it to the front of the garage. I got it to the point where the only thing left was to put on the metal skin and Trex porch floor. That would probably add another 50 pounds of weight — better to do that when it was in position. But I wasn’t ready to bring it outside yet. I still had work to do in the yard.

Putting It All Together

It’s all about the challenge

Over the past three years, I’ve done more new and difficult things than I’d ever had in my life. From wiring my home to moving heavy things by myself to laying down my floor and deck — it’s been one challenge after another.

I’ve found that I really enjoy the challenges I face getting my home set up the way I want it. Each difficult task is a puzzle that requires serious thought, planning, knowledge, skills, tools, or a combination of these things. But what it requires most is patience.

In the old days, I used to get frustrated when a task didn’t go as easily as I’d hoped. That feeling of frustration was magnified if I tried to do something with my wasband and he got all pissed off when it didn’t go smoothly.

But now I don’t get frustrated at all. I just plan ahead, make sure I have everything I need to get the job done, and go to it slowly and carefully. It’s perseverance that makes it all come together in the end.

And when a difficult job is done, I get a huge feeling of satisfaction knowing that I did it all myself.

I had a party last week. A little get-together with friends and neighbors to show off my home and sit around the fire pit on what could be the last warm night of autumn. I showed off the chicken coop as part of the tour — everyone wants to see my garage. My friend Alyse said I should get everyone there to help me drag the coop out. But it was dark and I was tired of getting visitors to help me with the few tasks I couldn’t do on my own. Besides, I was almost looking forward to the challenge of getting it out there on my own.

Before I could get the coop into position, I had to disassemble the old chicken yard and add one last hog panel hoop. That was the big job. I tackled it on Tuesday, the only day this week forecasted to have good weather all day.

I started by pushing the coop out onto my concrete driveway apron. By this time, I’d replaced the wheels in the back with another set I’d bought. I didn’t want to spend a lot on them because they were temporary and they turned out to be pretty cheesy. But they worked, so I’m not complaining.

Coop on Driveway
Penny inspected the chicken coop once I got it out on the driveway. I had to move it about 80 feet on gravel to get it into position — and none of the wheels steered.

Then I got to work on deconstruction. I set up my GoPro and did a time-lapse. It’s kind of funny to watch, especially once the chickens get loose. I started by removing the panels I’d put in the top of the yard and then disassembling the panels. I didn’t want to spend time removing the wire fencing; I figured I’d do that later. I used my ATV to drag away anything too heavy to lift. (It’s a 600cc Yamaha Grizzly that I bought new in 1999 and it’s up to any task.) Once the panels were all out of the way, I added a third hoop and used wire-ties to fasten it to the one beside it. I completed the bottom frame so the entire yard was free-standing and quite sturdy.

Next I had to move the coop into position. None of the wheels steered so I had to roll it in one direction, then use the ATV to pull the front wheels one way or the other on the gravel, and then roll it again. The whole time, I was worried that one of the wheels would pop off. The rear wheels, which were not nearly as good as the ones I’d bought for the front, were really taking a beating. I had to reposition the ATV and the strap I was using to pull with quite a few times. It was slow-going but I wasn’t in a rush. It was important to get it into position before nightfall so the chickens would have a place to sleep.


Here’s the video. I tried to keep the chickens penned up, but they kept getting out. In the end, I just gave up.

Coop in Place

Coop in Place

Coop in Place
Three views of the chicken coop as I left it on Tuesday evening.

Once I had the coop in place, I removed the wheels and set them aside. I’ll store them for use on another project. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past three years, it’s that wheels make it a lot easier to move things.

I did a little work with chicken wire to fence in the far side of the porch. I also laid in most of the porch floor. But I didn’t have enough pressure-treated lumber to get the end framing and yard door done.

By that time, it was about 5 PM and I was completely exhausted. There was no way I’d be able to get the chickens in the yard and keep them there without a door. So I let them be. They wound up spending the night in their old coop. One of them even laid an egg in there.

Finishing Up

On Wednesday, it was cold and kind of nasty. I spent half a day writing blog posts while I waited for an inspector. I spent some time disassembling the old coop so the chickens couldn’t spend the night in it. When the inspector left, I ran out to do some errands. When I got back, the irrigation guy arrived to fix the water line, which had burst because of my outrageously high water pressure. While he worked on that, I set up my weather station. Then it started raining. Hard. That day was shot.

On Thursday, I went for a hike up in Leavenworth, ran a few errands on my way home — including getting the lumber I needed — and then went out again to help some friends with a catering job. It was dark when I got home, so that day was shot.

The chickens, during all this time, were free-range, scratching around the garden and under the bushes and in their new chicken yard. One of them started laying eggs under a sagebrush beside the driveway. At night, they went into their new coop. The first night they were in there, the rooster slept in the doorway with his head sticking out. I have no idea what that was all about.

On Friday afternoon, I was ready to finish up. My main goal was to get the yard fully enclosed so that the chickens could be secured. I framed out the doorway beside the coop. I closed the other side of the porch with chicken wire. And then I went inside to build the door. The old door had been a pallet and it was misshapen and falling apart. I wanted the new door to be sturdy and a perfect fit. I cut some of the wire fencing from the old chicken yard and nailed it into the door. But by that time it was raining and getting dark and I’d had enough for the day. I coaxed the chickens into their yard and used a scrap piece of plywood to close it up.

On Saturday, I did the job I’d been dreading: putting the metal sides on. Why did I dread it? Because I had to cut the metal. Corrugated metal is a real bitch to cut. After trying several methods, I’ve finally found one that works for me: a metal cutting blade in my jigsaw. The only drawback is that cutting it makes a gawdawful noise. Fortunately, I bought a set of ANC ear protectors. I pretty much wore them all day on Saturday.

Bit by bit, I got the metal cut. It was an odd day with a lot of moisture in the air and a series of rainbows, one after the other, appeared to the northwest and north throughout the day.

Rainbow
I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many rainbows in one day. And yeah, this one is a double.

I screwed each piece into place, feeling myself getting closer and closer to being done. Finally, the last piece was in place. I was done.

Finished Coop
Here’s how the coop looked when I finished up on Saturday. I draped some camouflage netting over one side to help provide some protection from the wind.

Or at least done enough for now. I’m still thinking of painting the exposed wood. But not this week.

The finished yard is 8 x 15 feet and tall enough for me to walk inside standing straight up. The eggs are accessible from the outside. The chicken’s food is under the porch roof where it’ll stay dry. There are enough perches inside for all six chickens — and hopefully for a few more next spring. The coop is solid, insulated, and protected from the elements.

I think I’d call this a win. It only took me three tries to get it right.

My New Weather Station

Getting the hyper-local weather information I crave.

I’ve always been interested in weather. Yes, I’m the kind of person who’d leave The Weather Channel on all day as background noise — in the days when they actually broadcast live weather information all day. And always know the most up-to-date weather sources. And have multiple weather apps on my mobile devices so I could check one against the other.

My Thirst for Weather Data

Not long after moving into my Arizona home in the late 1990s, I bought a solar powered wireless weather station. My future wasband mounted it on the roof of the shed near the horse corral and it beamed back weather information to a panel at my desk. For a while, I had it connected to a Windows PC I had — the software wasn’t Mac compatible in those days — and put live weather information on a Wickenburg website I ran. In 2003, when I got the fuel manager contract at Wickenburg airport, we moved the weather station there — it was far more reliable than the ancient setup in use. (Wickenburg now — finally — has an AWOS.) When I sold the contract, I included the weather station among the assets of the business. For all I know, it’s still there.

Although I didn’t miss the weather station much as life dragged on in Wickenburg, I definitely wished I had weather stations in Washington where I spent my summers starting in 2008. I get seriously tuned into the weather during cherry season, checking radar throughout the day and always knowing the forecast — from multiple sources — for the next three days. I dreamed of having portable, Internet-connected weather stations with accurate rain gauges and webcams so I could place them at each orchard when it was under contract. You see, I fly when it rains and knowing exactly when and how hard it was raining would benefit not only me, but also my clients. Trouble is, orchards aren’t usually in places where Internet access is available and the cost of a 3G/4G/LTE connection for each station was prohibitive.

Fast-forward to the late summer of 2013. I moved to a 10-acre lot I’d bought at the base of the basalt cliffs in Malaga, WA — a place I like to call Malaga Heights. From my aerie, I could see the weather coming and going from the southwest to northeast. With a new home base, I started thinking seriously about a weather station again.

Weather Station Options

Technology had moved forward in the ten years since I last owned a weather station. The main thing I wanted was the ability to monitor weather from anywhere in the world on my cell phone. I had some practical applications for this, but it was mostly just a desire to get hyperlocal weather information, live, anytime, from anywhere.

I did some research. I discovered that weather stations fell into four categories:

  • Basic home weather stations. These are the ones that put a panel in your house and one or more sensors outside that can broadcast data to the panel. I already had one of these — heck, I’ve had these forever. In 2013, when I was still living in my RV, it became extremely valuable for me to monitor temperatures during the winter at my water source and RV basement. But systems like these are extremely limited, not only in range but also in the available instruments. It’s usually just temperature, humidity, and barometric pressure.
  • Weather stations with limited connectivity. These are weather stations that have a full set of instruments for temperature, humidity, wind speed/direction, and rainfall, but they just send that information to nearby information panel. That’s what I had back in the early 2000s.
  • Weather stations with Internet connectivity. These are weather stations that have a full set of instruments for temperature, humidity, wind speed/direction, and rainfall, and they transmit data via the Internet, through wifi or a direct connection to a router. They often also transmit to a panel where the user can view data locally.
  • Weather stations with Internet connectivity and direct smartphone access. These are weather stations that have a full set of instruments for temperature, humidity, wind speed/direction, and rainfall, and can transmit data directly to the Internet as well as to a smartphone app. Again, they also often transmit to a panel where the user can view data locally.

My main goal was to be able to view current weather conditions for my home on my iPhone. This would make it possible for me to assess conditions for landing my helicopter, which lives in my garage. When I fly home and put it away, I need to land on a 9×9 platform parked on my driveway on the east side of my home. With very strong winds in the area, landing there is difficult — so difficult that I prefer to land at a secondary landing zone on the north side of my home. I can then wait until the wind dies down, fire the helicopter back up, and move it to the platform. I don’t have to do this often — I think I did it just twice in all of 2015 — but it’s nice to know what to expect at home before I arrive. What’s interesting is that when the wind is howling at the airport across the river, it’s often quite calm at my driveway. This is likely because of my home being sheltered on two sides by terrain. That’s one of the reasons I built it where I did.

So at first it looked as if I’d need that last type of weather station — the kind with an app to get the data on my phone. Unfortunately, the stations I found that met that criteria were quite expensive — in the $250+ range. And I really couldn’t justify the expense, especially when I seldom have a real need for that weather data. After all, I only take the helicopter out about 50 times a year and the streamers on poles on my deck offer a decent indication of wind conditions when I get here. (I also have an airport-style windsock, but I positioned it too far from my landing zone to be of any real use to me. Long story there.) Maybe I was just trying to use flying as excuse for a new weather station? Probably.

More research showed me that Internet-compatible weather stations could usually be set up with The Weather Underground website. I started exploring stations already online there. I found one down at Crescent Bar, not far from one of the orchards I provide cherry drying services to. I clicked a link to get more information about the Weather station there and learned that it was an Ambient Weather WS-1400-IP.

WunderMap of my area
The WunderMap of my area shows the personal weather stations (PWSs) in the area. I’ve marked the one in Quincy and mine as well as the official weather station at the airport.

I did some more research and found that two Ambient Weather stations would meet my needs if I went with the Weather Underground: that one and the Ambient Weather WS-1001-WIFI. The difference: the more expensive ($299) WS-1001 had a panel to monitor the weather inside the house and did not require an ethernet connection to my router while the less expensive WE-1400-IP ($159) could only be viewed from a Web page or app and required an ethernet connection to my router. Both had the same basic set of instruments and were equally easy to mount. Both also had a solar panel to keep the station’s batteries charged.

WS-1400-IP
The Ambient Weather WS-1400-IP includes outdoor weather instruments mounted together in one cluster; an indoor temperature, humidity, and pressure sensor; and an ObserverIP receiver that must be connected to a router. The iPad and iPhone in this marketing photo apparently indicate that data can be seen on mobile devices after registering the station with the Weather Underground.

I was fortunate in that I planned to mount the station at my shed, which was about 100 feet from my building. The line-of-sight receiver would go in the window overlooking the shed by my desk, which was less than two feet from my router. So as far as the connection went, requiring an ethernet cable was not an inconvenience. So the question was: Is the viewing panel worth the extra $140? My answer was no. I bought the WS-1400-IP.

Setting It Up

Mast Kit
This mounting kit is perfect for mounting on the side of a building.

I wanted to mount the weather station on the side of my shed, preferably with all instruments above the sprinkler head I’d put up there for fire season protection. That meant I needed some mounting hardware. Rather than trying to rig up my own mount — and likely being frustrated every step of the way — I spent another $44 (with shipping) on the Ambient Weather EZ-30-12 Mounting Kit with Mast.

Assembling the weather station was pretty easy. All I had to do was attach the wind vane at the top and one of the two short mounting poles on the bottom. The crimped pole fit snugly into the top of the mast that came with the mounting kit. I added two batteries to the indoor sensor and set it on a shelf near my desk. I then connected the receiver’s DC adapter to an outlet and ethernet cable to one of the four LAN ports on my router. Done.

The next step was to register my PWS on the Weather Underground. The weather station’s manual provides the URL. I had to create an account and then provide some information about my location and the weather station. At the end of the process, I received a weather station identifier.

Next, I had to use the IPTOOL application on my Mac (a Windows version is also available, of course) to locate the weather station’s receiver on my network and connect. That opened a configuration page in my Web browser. I used that to enter the station ID provided by the Weather Underground, as well as my password on that system. I could use other settings pages to provide the station model number, time zone settings, and units of measure. The Live Data page showed a rather user-unfriendly table of data collected from the station.

Configuration
The Weather Network configuration screen for my weather station lets me put in my Weather Underground ID.

Of course, since the weather station was still inside as I did all this, it registered inside temperatures and wacky wind readings as I moved it around. It was time to install it. I certainly didn’t want bad data going out on the network.

Installed Weather Station
The weather station is positioned just slightly above my fire season sprinkler head. I’ll need to raise it (or lower the sprinkler head) before next fire season.

My timing was good and bad: it had turned kind of nasty and was about to rain. That was good if I wanted to record rain information (which I did) but bad if I didn’t want to be on a ladder in the rain (which I didn’t). Still, I went out to the shed and climbed on the orchard ladder with a drill and impact driver and all the parts I needed. Within 15 minutes it was installed, level and pointed the right way. It’s not quite as tall as I’d hoped; in the future, I’ll likely add a second mast pole to raise it another three feet.

The rain started before I was done. I admit I was tickled to see it registering in the Live Data screen when I got inside. (I am such a weather geek.)

There was one more thing I needed to do — although I didn’t realize it until the next day. I thought the weather station would automatically adjust the pressure reading for my elevation of approximately 1550 feet above sea level. But when I realized that the readings were significantly lower than what they should have been, I did some additional research to see how I could fix it. The answer was to enter a relative pressure offset amount in the Calibration page of the weather stations settings. To do this, I needed an accurate pressure reading. I waited until the automated weather observation system at the airport just three miles away across the river updated and calculated the amount of offset to enter. I plugged that figure into the right box, updated the settings, and was good to go.

Viewing Weather Data

Weather Station Data
Here’s a snapshot of the display for my weather station as I wrote this blog post.

Although the Weather Underground claims it can take up to 24 hours to display a PWS on its site, mine was visible within an hour. It’s got its own page, which can be viewed by anyone at any time; I called it Malaga Heights. Here’s a screenshot of what you might see if you go to that link.

As you can see, there’s a lot of data, including current conditions pulled right from my PWS, sunrise and sunset times, moon information, and a radar map of my area. The current conditions are updated regularly; if you keep watching, you’ll see it change, especially if the wind is variable.

The weather history section summaries and graphs weather information for the day or a period you choose. As you can see, the temperature has been pretty steady on this overcast day, the wind really kicked up a few hours ago, and the pressure is falling. Solar radiation is likely measured for the solar cells on the station; it always rises after sunrise and drops back to zero by sunset.

WunderStation App on iPad
The WunderStation app on my iPad.

All of this information is also available in the various Weather Underground apps you can install on smartphones and tablets. For example, the WunderStation app on my iPad displays rearrangeable tiles of data that update automatically. I can even set up multiple PWSes in the app and switch from one to another with a swipe. Similarly, the Wunderground app on my iPhone displays information about any PWS, including my own. Both apps are free, and if you’re a Weather Underground member — a bargain at only $10/year — they’re also ad-free. (I hate ads).

But wait! There’s more! You can also install a “sticker” or widget on your website or blog. You can see the style I prefer at the top of this blog post; one that fits better in the sidebar appears at the bottom of the sidebar on every page.

What’s Next

Of course, all this is not enough for a true weather geek like me. The Weather Underground supports a PWS webcam.

I’ve had webcams on and off for years and would really like to have one here. After all, not only do I have an amazing view to share, but my view of the sky would clearly show weather conditions that would interest other weather geeks.

AmbientCamHD
There’s always something new to add to a system, isn’t there?

The one that I know will be compatible with the system is the AmbientCamHD Outdoor WiFi WeatherCam. It has a few features I think I could use to create time-lapses. I’ve added it to my Amazon wish list, but I suspect I’ll likely break down and just buy it for myself before Christmas.

Some things I just can’t resist.

The Flying M Aerie on Google

Finally!

Yesterday, I was looking up something on Google Maps and was thrilled to discover that they’d finally updated the satellite image in for my area to include my home. I can’t be sure of the exact date, but I estimate that this shot was from sometime in the spring, before things had really greened up and gardens had begun to grow.

I cropped the image to my exact property lines — on the east, north, and west, anyway. The southern boundary of my property is the road, so everything above (north) of the road is mine. It’s 10 acres.

My property, annotated
Here’s an annotated satellite view of my property; everything above (north of) the road is mine.

A few notes:

  • When giving people directions to my home, I tell them it’s two miles down the gravel road, on the left with the big green roof. Most people can’t miss it — unless they use Google Maps, which either directs them to the airport (for reasons I can’t quite understand) or to the house across the street two doors back from me. Yes, Google got the address wrong.
  • Lookout Point is where I’ve put a bench for looking out over the valley. My property drops off quite steeply just north of that. It offers sweeping views from the Mission Ridge Ski Resort southwest to the mouth of Rock Island Creek to the northeast.
  • Chicken coop is where my chickens live. I’ve just redone it for the third (and hopefully last) time. I have five hens and a rooster but hope to expand my flock in the spring.
  • I’m going to be planting a few more fruit trees near my home. So far, I have two struggling cherry trees, which were given to me by one of my clients. I think the grasshoppers took a real toll on them. I have enough room in that cleared out spot for about five fruit trees: cherry, apple, pear, and apricot. I’ll plant in the spring. Irrigation is already there.
  • The bee yard is on the far east end of my property where the property lines make it very narrow. Although they used to be much closer to my home, the east end is more convenient for road access. But the real reason I chose that spot is because it gets the most sun; with the cliffs to the south, direct sunlight is scarce in winter. The farther north you go, the more sunlight there is. This is a perfect spot.

I had an irrigation system installed earlier this month. It runs in two zones down my entire 1100 feet of road frontage. Last week, workers planted 25 Scouler’s Willow trees to the west of my driveway. This will give me privacy from the road and help keep the dust down. Because they are native willows, they require less water than the Austian willows so popular here. They’re only about 2-3 feet tall now, but they should grow to 30 feet or more, likely within 5 years.

On the east road frontage, I’ll be planting Ponderosa pine (which grow naturally in the cliffs) and aspen (which many of my neighbors have planted) in grove-like bunches. These trees, also on irrigation, will grow very tall very fast. I’m hoping they’ll help teach my black-hearted neighbors, whose house appears in the lower right of the satellite image above, how to mind their business. They should probably take lots of photos of their view now, before those native trees block it.

(On a side note, I never realized how close my neighbor’s house is to the talus basalt rocks at the base of the cliffs to the south. Hell, one good rock slide and their backyard will be full of boulders. Who would build so close to such a hazard, especially with all the talk of earthquakes possible in the Pacific Northwest? City slickers, I guess.)

One of the nice things about having so much undeveloped land is how much can be done with it. My five-year plan calls for planting either a small vineyard or orchard in the area between the bee yard and my driveway. I’m thinking of devoting 2-3 acres to it. There are a few hurdles I have to jump first, though. No rush — I have plenty of time to move forward — and it’s a hell of a lot easier to do when I don’t have to compromise with a cheap, risk-adverse “partner” every step of the way.

Old Satellite Image
Bing Maps still has an old satellite image of the area. This is the same crop shown above; you can barely see my driveway. Based on the construction status of my neighbor’s home, I think this one might be about three years old.

And on that note, isn’t it amazing to see what I’ve accomplished since buying this lot back in late July 2013? Back then, the only thing I had was a partial driveway. Now I’ve got a home. It took a lot of hard work and money to make it happen, but it’s been worth it.