Props to the Liveaboard Refitters

Some folks make sailing heroes out of those who sail the higher latitudes dodging icebergs and dealing with extreme weather.  Not me. Why anyone would want to sail in frigid waters with the only reward at landfall being some seals barking at you, penguin poop and yet more frostbite?

No, my sailing heroes are the folks who manage to live aboard while undergoing a real refit. And by real I mean something a little more involved than changing the curtains and adding new electronics. That's not a refit, that's shopping despite what the boat brokers try to tell you. Living in an already really confined space with everything topsy turvy and managing to not fly into a homicidal rage? That is worthy of admiration. I respect those who do this because there is no way I could do it.

Here is the current state of our salon. All the floorboards are up, Bondo fumes fill the air, the headliner is still off and tools are everywhere. Though heaven help you if you move the tools because Mark has them placed just SO.

The reason for this latest bit of upheaval? Tidying up the run to the bilge. The area under the floorboards has never been faired which means we have lots of little bumps and crevices along the way to the bilge. Bumps and crevices which like to hold water (which despite our best efforts continues to drip down the mast). Sure, its a tiny bit of moisture but its a small boat and that little bit of moisture does like to grow interesting things like mold and mildew. Our goal is to make the boat as dry as possible so we need any and all water to go all the way down to the bilge where we hope one of the numerous bilge pumps we are putting it can give it back to the ocean.

We would also like to be able to install sliding trays which run on elevated tracks in this unused space. Not a whole lot of things will fit there, but provisions sealed in airtight containers should fit. We will have enough canned good storage space to provision for the zombie apocalypse. That's the thing about zombies, everyone knows they can't swim so a boat is a perfect place to avoid brain stealing walking dead. That was my first thought when Mark and I discussed adding storage. Mark just raised an eyebrow at my fantastical rabbit chasing mind. He can be really patient at times. But I digress...

So we endure the smell of Bondo as we try to make the under floor area baby butt smooth. The fumes tend to make me lightheaded, then I start to like the smell and wonder why no one has come up with a Bondo scented aftershave because is it ever a MANLY smell and then I realize I am obviously destroying the few brain cells I have and I'd better go on deck for a fresh oxygen infusion. When my thinking process returns to normal (or as close as mine ever gets) I then think about the folks who are doing similar tasks on their boat while living aboard and I am in awe of their fortitude. THAT is some serious chutzpah.

What do we do while we wait for the Bondo to cure? Why tidy up the topsides of course. We are still pondering what we want to do to the deck layout to make Ceol Mor easier to sail but we know all the decks need to be in tip top shape before we install anything so while we think, we tidy. We tidy up which means there is every bit as big a mess on deck as there is below.  Gingerly step around the needed tools and gently remove any yuck staining the fiberglass under the old deck hardware, check for soundness and paint as necessary. Repeat. Go below, brave the fumes and clutter and Bondo some more. Then be very thankful we don't have to try to live in this big mess and give a hearty salute to those brave souls who chose to do so. You folks are made of stern stuff indeed.