Sea cucumbers, wind direction, faulty plugs and the onset of winter

I can tell direction of the wind by how the boat leaks. Which joists above the galley table drip – if it blows from the southeast, then move the white radish pot to the northern edge of the table to catch the drips. From the north, it must go to the southern end, on the opposite corner. That water tinged an breakfast tea brown for some reason.

How capricious water! An indefatigable beast.The tinkle of it in the galvanized window cavities before exiting out the weepholes in the wheelhouse. As it falls occasionally on the woodstove, sputtering and angry.

If it blows directly from the south I can expect a nice leak through the fiddly – the engine and stove exhaust stack, forming in large drops just outside the galley. That leak smells faintly acrid from the burned roofing muck and creosote the water picks up on its path down the stack.

Now as we speak, a heavy rain drums on the tar paper above. The drumming means there is little or no wind. It will be leaking in the starboard quarterberth, on the first joist as you come in, on the nearside, slapping onto the radiator. A steady drip you could set your watch to. If the rain continues the salon on the bow side of the settee will get a couple dark patches on the moss-green fabric. It will annoy Dog, who has a place by the fire, and he will return to his bed by the radiator.

Also the tarps. The whumping against the side of the wheelhouse when the wind blows south or southeasterly, as the tarp gets flogged against the boat with the gusts. When it blows from Peril Strait the plastic billows like a spinnaker, luffing as the gusts pulse, opening and closing like a lung. I’ve felt the boat tugged by a good blow. If I untied from the dock we could take sail.

The other morning I awoke to at 3 am to cold cold cold. The radiator was out. I got the ticker and tested the wire – everything out. Went down to the fusebox and switched the breaker to another bar. Back in business.

Woke up at eight and all the galley and salon outlets were out. Went outside into the – two guess, rain, you got it – and fiddled with the plug-in at the post. It began to spark and light up like a bunch of lightning bugs trying to escape.

So took that apart to find one of the leads fried. Replaced that and now things seem to be okay but I worry that wire is not thick enough for the 50 amp breaker. Time will tell.

I’ve gotten work sea cucumber tending. I go out with Spencer and he dives and I make sure he has enough hose and the air pressure is good and I’ll do bag exchanges with him as he continues to collect the cukes underwater – sending him a new bag on his hose, pulling the hydraulics and dragging in the filled bag, dumping 80 pounds of cukes into the tray and cleaning them.We go out for two to three days.I turn up the Com loud in the rain so I can hear what goes on as he dives – if there’s anything he needs. Eery, anchored up in an isolated bay, the rain falling, the wind blowing and the smell of spruce tips and sea kelp general, and the sound of his breathing – in and out – pushing out of the mast-mounted speakers.

More about sea cucumbering later. The work has been good. When a fire of yellow cedar crackles in the wood stove and Monarch and air smells sharp with it and the leaks forget to leak – sometimes that happens, and I cannot figure out the rhyme or reason to it – then indeed we are cozy, Dog and I, on this boat. It’s nice to have Ryan on board, our new renter. He has great spirit. The boat takes the wind well – I can tell she appreciates the attention she has been getting. Bird by bird, we say. Just take it bird by bird.