Remember how we were living large with a refrigerator? Well, the freon charge didn't last long after we finished our mojitos. About a month after getting the fridge fixed, we noticed that it was slowly getting warmer and warmer. Reluctantly, we accepted the fact that the charge was going to cost us some more.

Thor, our fridge guy, had anticipated this may happen, and had kindly given us a quote for $900 to replace the compressor and cold plate entirely. That plus labor. So for us to have ice and carry perishables on board, we threw in another $1200. God that hurts to write. THIS IS WHAT TWELVE HUNDRED DOLLARS LOOKS LIKE ON A BOAT. Not one bit sexy, is it?

Thor moved our thermostat to the port wall to keep us from bumping it when we reach into the fridge. He also wrote the numbers back on it so we wouldn't have to do our usual guessing method. 

You see that frosty cold plate? That actually keeps ice cubes frozen. Mack has integrated a fridge check as part of his usual "checks" where he shoots his thermometer at various things in the boat. That boy loves his thermometer gun. 

Even though it was an expensive investment, a fridge definitely makes boating more comfortable. You can have cold beer on hot days and are able to make much better food when aboard. Since the cold beer and good food are highlights of our sailing adventures for me, the pain of paying that much money will be worth it in the end. For now, though, we're going to need to freeze our accounts for a while.

During our trip to Catalina, I grilled some veggie burgers and sausages on the grill. The terrible round grill that was really a volcano erupting in the middle and an Alaskan tundra around the perimeter. The lid was secured by a wire cable, so there wasn't a risk of losing it, but you needed three hands, one in an oven mitt, to wrangle a lid, tongs, and the grill goodies. The knob on the lid was right over the volcano, which meant the oven mitt hand had to get a grip and then your go-go-gadget arm had to lower it over the rail. All this finagling and grilling became something that needed to be choreographed. Dinner was great... for us and the fish. I ain't a dancer.

Well, it is my birthday and look what Mack got me!

You see that handle? It doesn't get hot. And that lid? The one with the THERMOMETER in it? It simply raises up. And there are latches on the side for extra protection. 

"Awwwwwwwww." That is what the chorus of grateful angels sing when this thing opens up. I think this Camco propane grill was about $150 on Amazon, cheaper than a Magma and not all that different as far as I can tell. 

Mounting the grill was a breeze. It required two sets of hands and an Allen wrench. And guess who gets to sew a cover? THE BIRTHDAY GIRL.

Welcome to my life. Awfully glad we have such a wide hallway to serve as my studio. 

Kenutu's diesel motor seems like it could sail around the world on two gallons of gas, but since we're not certain about her gauge's accuracy or how much crud has settled in the bottom of her old tank, we went on an adventure to the gas station to keep her at half a tank.

Every time we take Kenutu somewhere new, it is an adventure -- one where we verbalize a plan for our approach, assume that plan will fall to complete shit and we'll end up yelling at each other, and then feel good when no one dies.

Well, getting gas was a complete breeze. Sometimes there are guys waiting at the gasoline dock to help you tie up, but the day we went, they were on a break. Mack nosed the girl alongside the dock while I reached out and grabbed a line and tied off her bow. Then he got her stern tied off. Everything went according to plan. 

I hopped off and got the gas pump while Mack used the fancy key to open the gas tank. We watched a video on YouTube recently where a guy put gas in his water tank or water in his gas tank (I can't remember which) and we did not want to be that guy. So I annoyingly asked Mack about ten times if he was sure that was the gas tank.