This will actually be our last four days onboard R.E.D.
for this 2015 sailing season.
For the past several days we have been enjoying
our cozy warm cabin
…amidst near freezing night time temperatures.
We sit here, looking at each other,
wrapped in layers of fleece and blankets
in our tiny cabin on the water
when we could be at our land home
surrounded by all the conveniences
that land-based living offers
and we ask ourselves ‘why are we here?’
…and the answer is always the same…
‘because this is where we would rather to be’.
During our Canadian Thanksgiving dinner prep at our land home base
I managed to add a slice of my own finger to my
Trip to hospital…
Mandolin in the garbage where it belongs.
In spite of what we have heard about long wait times at hospital emergency rooms,
(18-24 hours in some cases)
we found that when you arrive with an amputated part of your body,
packed in ice in a plastic food baggy,
the triage nurse tends to fast track you.
In and out within two hours
but sadly my finger bit wasn’t worthy of re-attaching.
Second visit two days later for dressing change,
and sent home with a goody bag…
…and what do we do as soon as we can?
…return to R.E.D.
This latest accident pretty much guarantees
that any further winterizing boat chores
will be limited to a supervisory level for me…
…including washing of dishes (yay!)
…and Captain is also in charge of dressing changes (I’m a lefty)
…as if he didn’t have enough things to take care of.
My Captain has been a Prince though.
…his biggest challenge keeping me from doing things for myself,
independent Kat that I am.
Snow forecast for the weekend
and wouldn’t I just love to snap a picture of us on the boat
with white stuff falling all around?
Only a handful of boats left to be tucked away for the season
and we chose to be amongst the last of the last.
Temperatures dipping below freezing at night made us realize that it’s time.
…and yet we will stay onboard until the bitter cold end.
At 07:30 Francois stood in line at the club office
(sort of like the Seinfeld Soup Nazi).
You stand there expectedly holding out your hand,
receive your ticket for haul out order,
nod thankfully and walk away.
We scored #3…
Finishing the winterizing and enveloping R.E.D. in her winter coat
will have to wait a few more days
but for now she is secure on dry land.
This will be her sweet place for the next six months…
Francois went back to the dock to remove our lines
and returned saying: ‘it’s ballistic cold down there!’
So what exactly does ‘ballistic cold’ mean?
I went down to the empty docks
and found out just what ‘ballistic cold’ means.
…a cold that blows straight to the heart of your bones
and sends you shivering uncontrollably back to shelter.
We left the essentials on board,
a little ambiance,
a sip of scotch for the next chilly evening onboard
and of course first aid for the clumsy one…
Back at our land home base,
we unpacked another huge load of boat gear…
an oh so cold, long and very tiring day complete.
I looked in the cupboard and saw not a lot of anything interesting for supper.
Then I remembered ‘Touski’
I was at the football game this afternoon but bot quite dressed properly for sitting in a windy stadium for several hours. I'm pretty certain that was a ballistic cold there. Hours later and I'm still chilly 🙂
It's not moving around that kills you. And you're right, the cold goes so deep it takes hours to warm up.