Tag Archives: Great Loop

Determination and Going it Alone

Posted on by
4

A chat with a fellow boater starts me thinking about the importance of independency.

[Note: I wrote this post at least two weeks ago and, when I was done, I decided not to publish it. I thought it might be a bit too self-serving. But then I had an exchange with another user on Mastodon today, after my (solo, of course) cruise across Lake Michigan. You can see a screen grab of the exchange below. I decided that it was very much related to the rest of the content in this post — the elephant in the room, so to speak — so I decided to add it and publish the whole damn thing. – ML]

Lately, I’ve been meeting a lot of people on my Great Loop trip — more people than I’d met on my journeys down the inland waterways and up the ICW. People are going out of their way to meet me and chat with me. Most of them are impressed that I’ve been doing the trip (mostly) alone. These people are invariably couples and they are blown away by what they consider an amazing achievement.

A Rockstar? I don’t think so.

But it all came to a head yesterday when I was in a restaurant in Killarney, ON and a couple at a nearby table called me over as I was leaving.

They recognized my boat by its name and had seen me on it. Apparently, there’s some talk going around about me among the other Great Loop cruisers. A woman doing the Loop alone!

The wife of this couple told me I was a “rockstar” among the Loopers. That’s pretty hard to believe, since I don’t participate in any of the online forums most Loopers are drawn to. But okay, I’ll take it.

Cruising the Great Loop as a Learning Experience

We chatted for a while about cruising and the Loop and the percentage of people who jump into this 6000+ mile journey with little or no boating experience. The husband of this couple had boating experience similar to mine before buying his current boat, a Mainship: growing up around small boats and owning a few throughout his life.

But there are far too many people who start the Great Loop with little or no boating experience on a boat that’s brand new to them. Some folks even sell their boats as they’re finishing up the Loop but continue to cruise to the end, looking forward to the day they can be done and leave their boat for good. I find that mind-boggling.

I met a couple along the Trent-Severn Waterway who had begun their cruise near St. Louis and claimed they “felt done” by the time they were in Florida — not even 1/4 way through the trip! They were selling their boat the day I met them, but wouldn’t turn it over to the new owner until they got to St. Louis moths later. I’m still trying to figure out why they continued a trip they apparently weren’t enjoying. This is pleasure boating, folks; it shouldn’t feel like a chore or an ordeal.

We talked about how much experience a boater can get from a Great Loop trip — that’s actually the number one reason why this trip has meant so much to me. Simply said, it’s made me a good boat captain. How can it not? Navigating more than 7500 nautical miles (so far) on rivers, lakes (including Great Lakes), canals, the Gulf of Mexico, the Intracoastal Waterways, and the Atlantic Ocean. Dealing with locks, bridges, other boaters, and marinas. Cruising in weather from severe clear and calm to thunderstorms with hail. Resolving minor (fortunately) mechanical issues, like losing a stern thruster or having a bilge pump that won’t operate automatically. Having to find and make good stops to refuel, buy groceries, get water, dump garbage, refill propane tanks, and do laundry.

How can all this not make you a better boat captain and all around long distance cruiser?

Determination?

And then one of them said, “You must be pretty determined to do this trip by yourself.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I never thought of myself being determined to cruise the Great Loop. I just saw it as the boating world equivalent of a classic road trip, like cruising Route 66 or driving up the California Coast. I thought about the experience of visiting all the places along the way, seeing how people live, checking out the local history, eating the local foods. I thought about the challenges of planning and navigating a course, dealing with weather, and living the confined space of a boat. I thought that a boat trip that somehow started and ended in the same place without backtracking would be a great adventure — before I even knew the Great Loop existed.

The Great Loop has never been a “bucket list” item for me, something I can brag about to friends. I’m not going to hang a gold flag sold by a for-profit “club” that exists solely to separate cruisers from their money. Heck, most of my friends don’t know what the Great Loop is and, if they’re not boaters, they don’t really care.

So have I been “determined” to finish the Great Loop? For me, the goal isn’t the achievement of “crossing my wake.” It’s the journey and what I can take away from it to make me a better person.

The Solo Aspect

The Woman Thing
Here’s the exchange I had with another Mastodon user today that sums up my thoughts on the “female aspect” of my situation, which, frankly, I’m pretty fucking sick of dealing with. Read it to understand why.

It’s the solo aspect that everyone seems to focus on. This conversation really brought that point home to me.

Honestly, I don’t think that doing this trip solo is a big deal. In so many ways, I think it’s better than doing it with a companion. Not only do I get to make all of the decisions — and change my mind as often as I want to — but I don’t have to deal with the pet peeves we all develop when traveling with someone else.

I like to travel alone. I’ve been doing it since the 1980s in my first corporate job and, even when I had a “life partner,” I often made trips by myself. So there’s no part of traveling alone that’s unusual to me. It’s traveling with a companion that’s odd and somewhat difficult at times.

Yes, there are additional challenges when you’re driving a boat by yourself. There’s no one else to handle the lines or put down the fenders when docking or sit at the helm while you take a pee or make a sandwich. (And no one to make a sandwich for you.)

But can’t we all rise to the challenge? Having to deal with fenders and lines while docking alone has forced me to learn how to control my boat in confined spaces — I’m basically forced to get the boat up next to the dock at a near standstill so I can step off with a line and secure it. (There is no jumping on the dock from my boat and very little tossing lines to strangers, since half of them don’t know what they’re doing.) Having no one around to take the wheel when nature calls has taught me a few tricks for leaving the helm briefly while under way without dropping an anchor. And when I know I have a long cruise ahead of me, I make lunch in the morning, before I leave, so all I have to do is fetch it out of the fridge.

It’s problem solving. How do you do the work of two people when you’re just one person? You find ways to make it work. That’s part of the challenge of cruising. That’s part of what makes it interesting to me.

And let’s be real: having a second person aboard who doesn’t know or care about helping out when “needed” is worse than being alone on board. (I’ve been in that situation and it sucks.)

The other question I get a lot is about whether I get lonely. The answer, for the most part, is no. I’ve been alone for so much of my life that I’m used to it. I keep busy. I don’t have time to be lonely. The only thing that makes me a little sad is that I can’t share this incredible adventure with someone I can talk to about it in the years to come.

I’m not the only solo cruiser out there

I also want to mention here that I am not the only person doing this trip solo. Nagui, who I met while cruising last year, completed the loop solo in his Rosborough, Boundless.

I’ve also met Matt on Seaview, Ed on Freedom, Mark on Brandywine, Michelle on Plan B, Chris on Brown Eyed Girl, Bob on Bayleaf, and Harry on a homebuilt sailboat whose name I can’t remember. (Get boat cards, folks!) My apologies to the folks I missed in this list. While not all of these people might be “doing the Loop,” they are all on long-term cruises that require them to do everything that needs doing.

Independence > Dependence

Meanwhile, I feel bad for the folks who think they can’t go it alone. The people who depend on the company of someone else to do things.

I’m not just talking about cruising, either. I’m talking about the things we do in everyday life: dining out, going to the movies, attending live events (do you know how easy it is to get an excellent seat for concerts and shows when you’re a party of one?), traveling, and participating in social activities that may include mostly couples. If you’re single and think you can’t do the things you want to do by yourself, why the hell not? Why depend on the presence or moral support of another person when you’re perfectly capable of doing things on your own? Be independent!

And the only thing worse than feeling as if you can’t do things alone is feeling that you can’t do anything without the partner you might already have, someone who simply doesn’t want to do anything you want to do. Been there, done that! Got a ball and chain? Cut it loose! Live the life you want on your terms.

The End is Near

My trip is coming to an end. I’ll be done in less than a month now. Yesterday, I spent a few hours planning the rest of my route and the stops along the way. I wanted to make sure I could finish it on time — I created a deadline when I bought plane tickets to get home. Unless there’s some crazy bad weather ahead of me when I hit Lake Michigan, I should be fine, with a handful of days to spare in case I need to change plans.

I’ve already planned my next two cruises when I get back to the Pacific Northwest. First, I’ll attend the Ranger Rendezvous, which I first attended the day after I took delivery of Do It Now in September 2022. And then I’ll join a flotilla of boats to cruise up to Desolation Sound and back in late September. There’s a chance a friend will join me for that trip, but I’m not sure right now whether I want company.

And then I’ll let Do It Now get some rest in my garage while I enjoy the comforts of my “dirt home” for a while.

I live there solo, too, and I love it.

Winding Down My Travels

Posted on by
6

As I near the end of my Great Loop trip, I contemplate bringing my boat back to Washington (and elsewhere) and possibly spending some time at home.

Why So Long?

If you’re wondering why I’ve got so many miles on the Loop when most places put the mileage count at about 6,000, blame it on my side trips. I boomeranged from the Annapolis Area to Key West and back this past winter and also made round trip cruises up the St. Johns River in Florida and up to Lake Champlain in New York and Vermont.

If you’re wondering why it has taken me so long to do the trip when most folks can do it in a year, it’s because I had to come home last summer to work — I wasn’t retired yet — and I also took a few other short trips home. The northern portion of the loop can only be done in the summer and I’d been working every summer since 1998.

It’s July 18, 2024 and I’m less than a month away from the completion of my Great Loop cruise. (If you don’t know anything about this trip, you can read about it in my Great Loop blog (which is painfully out of date).) So far, since mid October 2022, I’ve spent a total of 438 days/nights on my 2019 Ranger Tug R-29 CB Do It Now, covering 7,724 nautical miles (or 8.889 statute miles or 14,305 kilometers) in 17 states, one province, and two countries. I’m currently at a very pleasant anchorage in the Georgian Bay of Lake Huron, on the Canadian side of the border. I plan to cross back into the US at month end and then get to Chicago, where I cross my wake, on August 10 or so.

Do It Now at Statue of Liberty
I stopped for a selfie at the Statue of Liberty when I went through New York Harbor in May.

If you did the math, you’ve probably realized that I’ve been away from home an awful lot — but not a full year and a half. Although I started my travels on October 13, 2022, I came home for three weeks in December 2022, five months for the spring and summer of 2023, and then a few weeks in April 2024. But other than that, I’ve been living on the boat.

Some thoughts on Cruising

My boat is not large, but it’s certainly large enough for one person and two small dogs, especially when they’re accustomed to spending months at a time living in a slide-in truck camper every winter. My boat is bigger than my camper and more comfortable, with waterfront views everywhere I go. It’s also slower and burns more fuel, but that’s a topic for another discussion. Having a second person on board works with varying results, mostly depending on the expectations of that second person.

With 240 more days of active cruising experience than I had when I started this Great Loop adventure, I’ve learned a shit-ton about boats and boating. I’ve also gotten in tune with my boat, much as I had with my helicopters: I can pretty much predict how it will respond to nearly every situation. (You know it when you have that kind of relationship with a vehicle; it’s a rare and wonderful thing.) Simply said, I know how to drive my boat.

At Go Home Bay
Here’s Do It Now at a recent anchorage called Go Home Bay. Maybe that’s what got me thinking about home?

People see me cruising alone and think they need to rush out to help me with docking or locking. Usually not so. I recently brought my boat to a complete stop beside a man at a dock who had rushed over to help me with my lines. I looked at him standing there idly just two feet away from my window and said, “This ain’t my first rodeo,” before stepping off the boat with a line to cleat up. “I see that,” he replied. More recently, at Lock 37 of the Trent-Severn Waterway, a fellow boater offered to climb on board to help me lock through. I looked him in the eye and said, “I’ve done 35 of these solo so far; I think I’ve got the hang of it.” (There is no Lock 33 and I wasn’t counting the dozens of other locks on canals I’d traveled on.)

Bruce and LeaAnne at Waterfall
Here are Bruce and LeaAnne on New Bearings. We anchored about 3 miles from this waterfall and dinghied up to it with our boats. It wasn’t quite hot enough to get me in the water with them.

But I haven’t actually been alone the entire trip. I had friends on board for a total of 102 days: Janet, Alyse, Jason, and Cheri. And I’ve been “buddy boating” with others since getting on the Erie Canal and continuing north and west. I play leapfrog with many boats. Today, I’m trying to plan a meetup with some sailing friends at a place called Bad River where we can get our dinghies out and explore the waterfall there.

What’s Next?

At the 2022 Ranger Rendezvous
Here’s Do It Now at the 2022 Ranger Rendezvous. I had just picked it up the day before in Olympia and made the two-day cruise to the event with very little experience. Since then, I’ve added a bimini top, a screen enclosure for the aft cockpit, and a new dinghy davit.

As I plan these last days of a very long trip, I’m thinking about what I’m going to do next. I know that I’m going to trailer my boat back to Washington state, where I’ll have it launched in Tacoma or Anacortes for the month of September. I know I’ll spend a good portion of that month cruising Puget Sound, fishing for salmon, and taking my Washington friends for day trips. And, of course, I’ll attend the 2024 Ranger/Cutwater Rendezvous, where I hope to do a presentation about why Ranger Tugs are the perfect Great Loop boat.

But what about after that?

Well, I don’t want to cruise Puget Sound in Washington state in the winter — that’s for damn sure.

I had toyed with the idea of bringing Do It Now south and launching it in Lake Powell for the month of October. I already talked to the folks at the marina in Page, AZ and they can provide the launch/retrieve assistance I need, truck and trailer parking, and even a marina slip if I want it. But whether I go there depends a lot on the water level; it’s about 6 feet higher than I need it to be now, but in October? And I don’t want to spend the winter there, either.

Lake Powell
I can’t tell you how many hours I spent flying my helicopter over Lake Powell with charter or photography clients on board. I have at least a half dozen people interested in joining me there on my boat.

If I have it at Lake Powell, it isn’t much farther to go to Lake Havasu for the winter. But I have a sneaking suspicion that they don’t sell diesel on that lake. And I think it might get boring if the Colorado River is drawn down for the winter and I can’t leave the lake. I could take it to Lake Mead instead, but I think it’ll be a lot colder there. But maybe not. And my boat does have a heater. A good heater.

Homesick

Of course, the main feeling I’m tackling right now is the simple fact that I miss my home. While “homesick” might be too strong a word, I definitely miss the comfort of my own (considerably larger) space. I miss having a dishwasher and a washer and dryer just steps away from my bedroom door. I miss my jewelry studio. I miss my incredible views and my garden and my deck. I miss being able to take my Jeep or truck or Honda anywhere I need to go, anytime I want to go, without having to rely on a taxi.

Home
My home has kickass views and a very large garage.

The closer I get to my trip’s end, the more I realize that I just want to spend some time at home.

But I don’t want to spend the winter there either.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my home. I had it built to my specifications and it’s just about everything I want or need in a home. It’s very comfortable. But I don’t like the winters in Washington state. There isn’t enough light. I’m usually okay until they change the clocks and then I’m miserable, with the sun setting at 4 PM — or so it seems — and my body wanting to sleep at 6 PM. And the Shadow Time.

Although I’ve never been diagnosed with SAD, I’m pretty sure I get it. It starts when we change the clocks and ends sometime in late February. In recent years, I’ve tried to stay home but invariably headed south.

Maybe this year can be different?

Giving the Boat a Rest

Either way, I suspect I’ll be giving Do It Now a rest on its trailer. The good news is that it can fit inside my garage. (You know I have an enormous garage, right?) Although that space isn’t heated, I’m hoping to get away with a minimal winterization, even if it means having to put heaters in and under the boat for the cold season.

But never fear! I have spring and summer plans for Do It Now. I’ll likely launch it sometime in April or early May and spend the spring cruising around the San Juan Islands. But the big plans are taking it north into the Inside Passage, possibly as far as to Alaska. I’m working on getting other Ranger Tug owners in the Pacific Northwest to buddy boat with me for all or part of a trip. Another summer away from home, another summer on my boat. I’m looking forward to it.

And if the bug to buy a bigger boat doesn’t stop nibbling on my brain, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll upsize for 2026. That’s when I’ll start taking paying passengers on 1- and 2-week cruises along the Great Loop.

But all that depends on whether I’m sick of cruising by then. At this point, I’m not sick of it. I just want to enjoy my dirt home for a while.

Cruising with a Companion (Again)

Posted on by
9

I welcome a friend on board as a cruising companion (and more) and am glad I did.

If you’ve been reading my Great Loop blog (which is behind yet again), you know that I spent some time buddy boating with my friend Jason in the big Ocean Yachts boat he lives aboard in Washington DC.

Jason and I met on Mastodon — my replacement for what I now call “The Dead Bird Site” (Twitter) — earlier this year. We have lots of mutual interests and seem to be on the same page about so many things. I think we might have been equally excited to actually meet up in person. We did that in October when I cruised down Chesapeake Bay from the Annapolis area (where I picked up my boat after its summer vacation) and he took his boat down to the mouth of the Potomac River. We cruised back up the river together, in our separate boats, with many stops along the way. It was a great week of getting to know each other, as was the subsequent days I spent at the marina where he lives.

Rafting
My boat (the red one) rafted to Jason’s boat at an anchorage during our Potomac River cruise. If he does start cruising full time, he’d likely downsize. His boat is very comfortable, but its size makes it impractical for a cruising lifestyle.

It seemed like a good idea for him to try joining me for a while on my much smaller boat while I continued cruising down to Florida for the winter. He works from home — his boat — and can work from pretty much anywhere, as long as he has an Internet connection. Since I’m cruising down the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW) and am usually pretty close to various coastal communities and cities, Internet access is nearly always available via cell phone. He’s been thinking about casting off from the Wharf and starting a cruising lifestyle and I would give him the opportunity to see if it was feasible. Meanwhile, I’d get an experienced boater to share my travel costs and give me companionship while I explore places along the way.

It was a win-win proposition.

On Command Bridge
Cocktail hour selfie with Jason and my girls up on the command bridge of my boat as we explored the Potomac.

I left his marina after just five nights — mostly because it’s crazy expensive, even after I got four free nights courtesy of Jason and a liveaboard neighbor. (Thanks again, Chris!) I made my way back down the Potomac and Chesapeake Bay and started south along the ICW. Jason had a conference to attend in Miami and other things to take care of before leaving his boat for what might be months.

We made arrangements to meet at Washington, NC, a town at the source end of the Pamlico River that I’d been wanting to check out anyway. I parked at the excellent town dock and spent two days cleaning and prepping my boat for company. Jason arrived on November 4 — already nine days ago! — and moved on board.

JasonAndPups
Jason texted me this selfie while he was driving the boat from upstairs on the command bridge on Friday. My pups really like him, too.

Without boring you with details, I’ll just say that so far it’s been great. We get along remarkably well — he seems to bring out the best in me and keep me in good spirits. What’s crazy (to me) is that his presence seems to calm me even when I feel as if I’m losing my patience over something dumb. We share all the chores: cooking, cleaning up, and even taking my pups to shore for their potty visits. We go on hikes, try to fish and crab, and wander farther afield with me on my electric bike and him on his Onewheel. On most weekdays, he works at the table in my main cabin while I drive the boat to our next destination, sometimes from the command bridge and sometimes from the bench seat only a few feet away. If he has off from work on a cruising day — like he did on Friday — he drives the boat and I try to keep busy doing other things.

And yes, there’s more to our relationship than what I’m including here, but a girl has to have a few secrets, doesn’t she?

In any case, it looks like Jason will be on board until around mid December. That should take us all the way into Florida, including a stop at my Dad’s house in Fort Pierce on my way to the Keys. Then he’ll go spend the Christmas holidays with his family in Michigan and I’ll continue my travels.

Will he be back? Well, the best way to find out is to read that pesky Great Loop blog of mine. With luck, I’ll start updating it again more regularly.

End of May Already?

Posted on by
6

Time flies when you’re busy, whether you’re having fun or not.

My last two posts were more than a month ago, in April. I haven’t written a single word — in any of my blogs — since then. I’ve just been too damn busy.

Or tired. Or unmotivated.

The Trip Home

I’m home now from my winter travels. Unlike previous years when I took my RV — most recently, a Lance truck camper — down into Arizona and California for December through March — this year I was on my boat traveling along the Great Loop. I’ve done a total of just over 3000 miles in the boat since I launched it in Chicago in October 2022. Most of that has been solo — just me and my pups. Turns out that my guest accommodations are not satisfactory for friends who have joined me. (Who knew?) Also, I don’t think they got the trip they were expecting. So solo is probably better, at least for now, until I can find a companion who has the right expectations and doesn’t mind sleeping in a cozy cubbyhole.

I’ve been trying to detail my trip in my Great Loop blog, My Great Loop Adventure. Unfortunately, I got behind in my posts and then I got really behind in my posts. As I type this, my most recent post covers my stay in Clearwater Beach, FL in January. It’s now the end of May. I have to hope I can reconstruct the following three months from my notes, travel logs, and photos. That’s one of my main tasks for June. You can help motivate me by reading and commenting on the posts there. That blog will eventually become a book — if I can ever catch up and finish it.

I had the boat hauled out of the water in late April and put “on the hard” at a marina in Chester, MD. The boat’s bottom looked great — no damage at all and very clean after a quick power-washing. It won’t need painting before I launch it again, so that’ll save some money. On the other hand, it appears that a shallow water incident on my first Loop day did indeed do some minor damage to the prop. (That is the only shallow water incident I had where the prop was involved, so it must have been that.) Obviously not enough to affect operation — after all, I did drive it 3000 nautical miles after that — but enough to have the prop pulled and the two tiny blade bends fixed. That might reduce the vibration I feel at certain speeds and, according to the yard owner, it might even help me get an extra knot of speed. I was also very pleased to see that I didn’t have any crap trap line wrapped around my prop; I know I cut one line with the prop on Florida’s west coast but never had any symptoms of a problem.

After cleaning the inside of the boat and packing up, my pups and I headed for Dulles Airport early in the morning of April 27. At 2:30 local time, we were back in Wenatchee, where my friend Bob picked me up and took me home. My house-sitters had vacated just a few days before, leaving the place neat and clean, with clean sheets on the bed. (Thank you John and Allie!) I’m not sure if the cats were glad to see me, but I know the chickens weren’t. I’d been gone so long, they surely had no memory of me.

Good to Be Home?

For the next few weeks, I felt conflicted about being home.

First of all, it was nice to sleep in my big, comfy bed that, amazingly, didn’t rock at all at night, no matter how windy it was outside. It was nice to be able to use a toilet without worrying about how many times I’d flushed, what color the tank light was, and where/when I’d have to dump waste. It was also nice to take a shower with as much hot water and space as I needed without having to walk to a separate building on shore. And I really do appreciate my dishwasher, washer, dryer, and giant refrigerator.

I was home with all the comforts of home. My boat is comfortable, but its space is limited and, like living in an RV, there are special concerns that you just don’t have at home.


Here’s the view from my deck one day not long after my return. How can a person not love looking at this every day?


I changed the Lock Screen on my phone to a shot taken by my Looper friend Kim on her boat Pony as we headed down the Chicago River in October 2022. Now I’m reminded every day where I want to be.

But I did miss being on the boat. Traveling from place to place, meeting new people every day, seeing new things every day. Facing and overcoming challenges. Enjoying the simple joy of a sunrise from up on the command bridge, with a gentle breeze in my hair and waking birds flying about. Motoring to a new destination with very little idea of what I’d find along the way or when I arrived. I’m a traveler — like my grandfather was — I’m happiest when I’m on the road — or water — exploring new places or revisiting favorite old ones.

So the first few weeks home were a bit of a mental challenge, with an internal argument telling me I should be happy to enjoy the comforts of home while also telling me that home was boring and predictable and I needed to get back out on the boat as soon as I could.

The Art Shows

Of course, I had to hit the ground running when I got home. (Or I thought I did.) I had four weekends in a row with art shows and I seriously doubted I’d have enough inventory to do them.

It started a week after my return, with my second appearance at Wenatchee’s annual Apple Blossom Festival. There’s an Arts and Crafts show the second weekend of that event with strict setup rules. That had me setting up my booth on the Thursday before the event. That day, I also (finally) got a haircut and made myself presentable to the world. I spent the next three days in my booth, suffering through the dust or pollen or whatever that stuff was that got on everything. The event was extremely disappointing; I suspect my work was too high-end for the audience. I tried not to be insulted when two different people — guys, of course — came into the booth to ask if I had anything around $10. I don’t.

What followed that were three consecutive weekends at Leavenworth Village Art in the Park. This is a juried show that I’ve been part of for the past three years. It’s held every weekend from May into October and artists are able to choose the weekends they want. Management then picks the artists and tells them which dates they can have. I picked five weekends in May, August, and September, and got four. I always want Mother’s Day weekend — I’m selling jewelry, right? — but this year I didn’t get it. Until about two weeks before I got home. Another jeweler had backed out on that weekend and I was asked if I wanted to take her place. Hell yes. So that’s how I wound up with three weekends in May.


Here’s the current incarnation of my art show booth, set up for Mother’s Day weekend in Leavenworth, WA.

(I should mention here that I don’t do weekends during the summer because that’s cherry season and I’m on standby. I can’t answer calls promptly if I’m sitting in a tent a hour’s drive away. More on that in a moment.)

So I set up for Mother’s Day weekend — three days. Unfortunately since I thought I wasn’t going to do Mother’s Day weekend, I booked a class in Ellensburg — two hours from home — to teach silversmithing on Saturday. I thought that class might get cancelled; it was a relatively expensive four-hour class. But it wasn’t so I had to get a friend to sit in my booth on Saturday while I went to Ellensburg to do that.

Mother’s Day weekend sales were very disappointing.

So was the next weekend. That made three weekends in the row with disappointing sales.

I was beginning to think that it was either the economy or the venue that was bringing my sales numbers down. People are definitely not spending like they were back in 2021. And, at the same time, some of my work was becoming more refined and, yes, more expensive. Was I making a product that wasn’t a good match for the “tourist shows” I was showing at? My friend Janet, who has been doing art shows for about 40 years now, thinks so. I think I’m on a sort of knife’s edge where I could go either way. I can make the lower-end items people seem to be ready to buy but I want to make the higher end items that are more creative and challenging and help develop my skills as a silversmith.

The good part of all this is that although I thought I’d have to spend the month making jewelry to keep my inventory up for shows, I didn’t. I made a handful of new items and then, after that third bad show, took the week off to tend to other things.

I went into the four-day Memorial Day weekend with very low expectations.


This was the first of two “next level” pieces I made during the month of May. Hubei Turquoise in sterling silver.

And I kicked butt. Seriously: I had my second best ever show. (The best was Mother’s Day weekend in Leavenworth back in 2021.) Although I’d told myself I’d stop making the wire-framed pendants that had gotten me started back in 2018, I had to make them while I was at my booth just to keep my displays filled. And beaded earrings and bracelets and necklaces. And I sold them. But best of all, I also sold one of the high-end pieces I’d made earlier in the month — a piece I considered “next level” for me. While I was sad to see it go — sometimes I get a real attachment for my work — I was also thrilled that someone was willing to pay that much money for something I’d made.

So now I’m done with shows for a while, coming down off a high from this past weekend. My next show is at Lake Chelan — yes, another tourist show — but I suspect I’ll do well if the weather is good and folks come out. I have three weeks to stock up and I have some ideas for the kind of next level pieces I want to make.

The Diet

Well, it took about 10 years, but I managed to gain back all of the weight I lost back in 2012, the year I also shed a husband and gained full control of my life. If you’re a regular reader, you may recall that I’d gone on a Medifast diet along with a friend and we both lost about 45 pounds in four months. (I basically followed him down the scale; he was a week ahead of me and we’d started at the same weight. He’s shorter than I am.) I kept most of the weight off for a few years, but little by little my overeating habit returned and the weight came back. For the most part, I eat very well — very little junk food and hardly any fast food — but I tend to like what I eat and eat more than I should. That’s what got me back to where I started in early 2012.

I’d tried cutting back on my eating but was unsuccessful. I needed a program that was easy to stick to, one I knew would work. So I went back on the new version of Medifast, which is called Optavia. Mostly the same food — although definitely sweeter sweets and saltier savories (what’s up with that?) — and the same plan. I started on May 1 and 30 days later, I’m weighing in at about 16 pounds less than I started. I’ll stick with it throughout the summer and have no doubt that I’ll reach my goal weight (again) before I go back to the boat in September.

And this time I’ll keep it off. It’s mostly for my health, but I can’t deny the emotional kick I feel when I look in the mirror and see someone who looks as good as I should.

Cherry Drying

I start my last season drying cherries on June 10. This is a mellower than usual season with less acreage and fewer pilots. It’s also not clear how much flying I’ll do — if you recall, I sold the helicopter to buy my boat last year. Last year, I leased a helicopter for the season, but that ended with problems I didn’t want to blog about — and won’t unless they rear their ugly head again. (Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t blog about everything in my life.) This year, I might be flying one of the helicopters my pilots are bringing up from Texas. Or I might not. It depends on whether it rains. (If my pilots have everything under control and can dispatch themselves, I’ll tell the Leavenworth Village Art in the Park folks to put me on their wait list for other summer weekends.)

This will be my fifteenth season drying cherries. Since I started way back in 2008, I’ve built my business up to the point where, at its peak, I had six guys on my team every summer and was bringing in more revenue than I did during the heydays of my writing career. Things are slowing down now and that’s fine with me. The stress of worrying about a crew of mostly unknown pilots and literally hundreds of acres of client orchards has really taken a toll on me. This is the last season I’ll be involved and I’ve already let most of my clients know.

When I look back at my freelance career, I’ve come to realize that I’ve been working every single summer since 1998. If it wasn’t a Quicken book, it was cherry drying. I’m really looking forward to having a whole summer off for the first time in 25 years and I’ve already made plans for it.

As for the business, I’m hoping this season’s pilots will consider taking over my contracts and giving my current client base the good service they deserve.

Will I miss flying? I already do, a little. But honestly, I’m enjoying the boat so much that I think I can get over it.

Remember: you can’t move forward if you’re looking behind you. Being a helicopter owner/operator is in my rear view mirror and I’m not turning around.

Other Stuff to Keep Me Busy This Summer

My list of Things to Do gets bigger every day.

Gardening
I didn’t properly put my garden to bed last autumn so that meant more work this spring. I finally have most of my 12 beds planted. I still need to weed around them and get things neatened up.

Selling Stuff
My biggest problem at home? I have too much stuff. I’m in the process of selling off a bunch of it. I’ve already sold my helicopter landing platform and tow bar; one of my summer pilots might be buying other helicopter gear I still have. I also need to sell my truck camper and my little boat — yes, I still have that! Future items for sale: my telescope, my cheesemaking gear, a bunch of circa 2000 Apple swag from Macworld Expo shows, my beekeeping equipment, and so much more. Craig’s List has been an absolute gem at moving this stuff out without costing me an arm and a leg.

Garage Bathroom
I still need to finish the bathroom in the garage. That’ll require some assistance on the plumbing from a builder neighbor who I hope to get in here soon. The goal is to have it done — or at least the toilet functioning — by the end of June.

Garage Reorganization
What a mess my garage is! I’m reorganizing it to move all my woodworking and tools out of my jewelry shop area and into the adjacent space. My workbench will become a miter saw bench. Then I’ll expand the jewelry shop to include space for two students, as well as my futon and some other furniture to make it a more comfortable, useful space.

Spring Cleaning in the House
I’ve already done the cleaning part of this. Now I just need to offload a lot of clothes and other household items I simply don’t need in the house. Yes, I’m downsizing! There are a lot of reasons for this, but the main one is that less stuff means less clutter.

Blogging
I really do need to catch up on my Great Loop blog. And not neglect this blog so much.

Working the Jewelry Biz
I need to keep making new jewelry, selling it at shows, and bringing it to established consignment and wholesale accounts. Others are selling my jewelry for me and although they take a hefty fee — as much as 40% — it’s a lot more efficient to let them sell it than to go to shows, especially since I can’t do shows when I’m on the boat. I also want to start teaching small classes out of my shop, using days when I need to make a specific product to teach others to make the same thing. That’s something I need to set up soon since my time home is so limited.

Those are the main things that will keep me busy this summer. I guess I’d better get to it.

Keeping Up with Blogging

Posted on by
9

I offer up an excuse for neglecting this blog.

It’s been a whole month since the last time I posted here. And I only posted twice in January. And not at all in December. Do you see a pattern here?

This blog will be 20 years old in October and has thousands of posts — probably millions of words — and I seem to be running out of steam.

Well, I am and I’m not.

My current priority is blogging about my Great Loop boat trip in Do It Now, which I’m about 135 days into. At this point, I’ve traveled over 2400 miles and have done about 2/3 of that solo — just me and my pups. I’m having a great time facing the challenges and reaping the rewards of the trip. I’ve got about 5 weeks left before I head home for the summer and my summer job. (Yes, I’m still drying cherries.) I’l be back at it in mid-September; I just hope I can catch up with the blog before then.

A brief word about my production rate

I’ve noticed that as I age — or maybe just as time goes on and the world/technology changes? — my writing production rate has slowed considerably. As I type this, it’s hard to see that — I’m really churning out the words this morning.

But writing those trip blog posts leads to distractions. I’m pretty sure its caused by the work I need to do to add photos and links. I have to stop writing to find, format, and add the photos. I have to stop writing to look up the name of a restaurant or tour company or marina and possibly find and add a link to it.

Any time my attention is taken away from my blog composition software, it wanders. While I’m getting a photo off my phone, I may notice an incoming text from a friend. That leads to catching up on texts and responding to them. Somehow I drift into email. Or while I’m looking up a restaurant name, I get pulled into social media, which is always open on a browser tab.

These are distractions I can fight if I’m aware of how they’re destroying my productivity. I’ve been better about fighting them lately, but still not good enough. Heck, even this little sidebar box is a distraction, taking me away from the main point of my blog post. Enough!

That priority is working me hard. I’m trying to write for at least 2 hours every morning, but these days 2 hours just isn’t enough to knock out a complete and illustrated blog post, with links to related content. As a result, I’m falling farther and farther behind. My last blog post on My Great Loop Adventure was published two days ago (March 16, 2023) and it covered the events of January 8, 2023. So yes, I’m more than two months behind.

What’s Sucking My Time

Understand that I’ve got other priorities, too. First, I need to move the boat from place to place. On a long travel day, or one where weather could be a factor later in the day, I might want to start early — possibly so early that I don’t get my two hours of writing in. I can’t write while I drive the boat and lately I’ve been driving the boat for 4 to 7 hours in a day.

Then there are the boat chores when I arrive. The biggest one is hosing down the boat, which I try to do on arrival any day I cruised on salt water. I’ve been cruising on the Gulf and Atlantic Intracoastal Waterways since December so that means pretty much any day I cruise. Hosing and brushing down the surfaces that got splashed enroute can take an hour. I usually follow that up with topping off my fresh water tank, since the hose is already set up.

There are inside boat chores, too. Washing dishes, doing laundry, vacuuming, taking out the trash, grocery shopping. Sounds like what you do at home, right? Well, this is my home, at least while I travel on the water. I did the same stuff when I took my camper south every year. There’s no escaping from it; there will always be chores to take care of a home.

I also need to do trip planning and make reservations as necessary. I don’t do this every day, but when I do it, it can easily take an hour out of my day.


Rosie and Lily on the steps leading up to the command bridge. They have become real boat dogs.

And then there are my pups, Lily and Rosie. They need to be fed twice a day and taken out for pee breaks at least three times a day. If I’m at anchor, that might mean a dinghy ride and all the extra chores related to that.


Charleston has some amazing architecture. The other day, I got a chance to explore it on foot.

In addition to all that, I need to have some fun. I want to explore the places I visit, usually by walking around, sometimes with my pups. Sometimes I take tours — like the Segway Tour I took in Savannah earlier this month. I love to go into shops and galleries and museums and just look at things. Occasionally I buy — yesterday I bought a new mat for outside the boat’s back door and a pair of shoes for art show work this summer. I eat out — usually lunch — to get a taste of the local food. (I can’t tell you how many oysters and versions of shrimp and grits I’ve tasted.) I also go on bike rides and do a bit of hiking.

And, of course, I need to wind down at day’s end and sleep. I normally sleep very well on the boat and can usually get at least 7 hours of solid rest.

So when you add up all the time I spend doing those other things, you can see that there’s not much time left to write — and most of that writing time is spent trying (in vain, apparently) to get my trip blog up to date.

This blog has fallen to the bottom of my priorities list.

Don’t Give Up Hope

I hope that the folks who normally read this blog have begun reading about my trip. Some posts are definitely more interesting than others. I think the photos really help tell the story. Of course, when I’m done with the trip — and my blog about it — the posts will be pulled offline and turned into a book. What you’re reading on that blog is the first draft.

I’ll try to get to this blog with non-boating posts again soon. But you probably shouldn’t expect much until this summer when I’ll have a lot more time on my hands.

I think.