Remember how we repaired our cockpit flooring using Gorilla Glue and Mother Nature immediately balked at us? Well, Attempt 2 was made using epoxy, thanks to my friend Ali coming to visit us and needing something to do in between reading books.

Normally I wouldn't subject my loved ones to boat projects when they're on vacation, but Ali is notorious for project slayings. She designed and painted an entire room of furniture for my nephew. She built floral bouquets out of sea shells and ribbon flowers for my sister's wedding. She puked peppermint schnapps all over my deck when she was 15. So not only does she have a knack for this kind of tedious work, she also kinda owes me.

Since Ali was going to be doing all the work, we decided to do things right this time. We bought new dowels to replace to broken ones and went with headache-inducing epoxy. 

After a few days of working in bursts, Ali had managed to get the pieces back together, including the weird tiny pieces. And she was just as creative with weights as we were on Attempt 1... Flower pots, rocks, and kettle bells are a woodworkers best friend. Also, I'm a lousy gardener, so pay no attention to my dying plant.

As a reward, we took Ali to meet Kenutu. We did not take her sailing in it because, if you haven't deduced yet, we are mean, terrible friends who work when people come to visit us. Mack gave Ali the tour, showing off his most favorite area UNDER THE FLOOR. He is obsessed with that dark smelly abyss.

I felt pretty good about this floor repair, optimistic even. When I picked up the large sections they felt like a solid piece of wood as opposed to a delicate warbly grate. The little sections were even sturdier. They felt like you could drop them and they'd stay intact. Ali had done an awesome job.

And then came Mother Nature, who apparently has a personal mission to destroy this floor. It held up longer than the Gorilla Glue fix, but nothing about it was permanent. 

So you know what this means? Attempt 3. I'm emailing Elegant'sea right now to find out who this Owen guy is and see if they'll share their plans for their cockpit flooring with me. Hopefully they'll be as good a pal as Ali was!

Since the last time we went to Catalina it was too cold and overcast to do any swimming, we decided to redeem summer over Labor Day weekend. We rallied Scott up from San Diego and took off under cloudy skies and with no wind.

Along the way we saw this guy. He's sort of a sail boat/pirate ship/Chinese fishing boat. But there he was, out in the Pacific, floating like a champ and giving us something interesting to talk about. 

Since we didn't have any wind, we kept the jib (aka front sail) furled (aka rolled up). I camped out on the nose of the boat dangling my feet off the front and feeling the water spray my toes when all of a sudden one of my favorite things in the entire world happened. Dolphins ran over to the boat and swam right underneath me, playing in the boat's wake and generally just being magical creatures of joy.

A little over halfway there, the clouds started to clear up and we pulled out the sails to catch some wind. Scotty took the helm. Mack took a nap. I took pictures. We also ran the macerator while in the shipping lane and watched lots of ground up pee and poop spew out the side of the boat. It was disgusting and satisfying and liberating, for it means from hence forth, there will be pooping on the boat.

As we entered Two Harbors, we saw boats upon boats upon boats. Boats were anchored. They were moored. They were tied to each other, 3 to 4 in a row. They were driving around. It was so busy it didn't even look like Isthmus Cove to us. We puttered in on the motor and looked for our mooring ball. Which had a boat called Dionysus tied up to it. Wait, what?

Mack radioed the harbor patrol to kindly ask them to evict that guy and make way for Kenutu. And that was when we found out that actually the mooring ball we'd reserved after attending an Indian wedding party with an open bar was in Catalina Harbor, just on the backside of the island. 

The BACKSIDE. 

We circled out of Isthmus Cove and started heading to the point and making the 2-4 hour trip to the backside of the island. Mack made the reservation but somehow this blunder was all my fault, just so you know.

It ended up being a lovely trip. I dangled my legs off the aft port side (aka back left) and soaked my toes while we watched the coast go by. We found a roomy beach with lots of divers on it. And as we rounded the point we found where all the fisherman go. And a giant rock covered in bird poop that was pretty extraordinary. 

Getting in to Catalina Harbor was leaps and bounds easier than Isthmus Cove. It was busy but far less cramped. We made our way to the mooring ball, which did not have a boat attached to it, Scotty reached waaaaayyyyy out over the edge to grab the needle, and we officially made it.

Since this was our first trip to Catalina with a proper dinghy, we decided to grab a beer and take a sunset cruise around the harbor to look at the other boats. There was a 1987 68' Irwin Ketch that had a freaking hot tub on its deck that we were very jealous of. It's for sale for $400,000 if you're interested. I look them up just in case I may be able to get a digital tour.

Once back on board Kenutu, I set out to making some dinner. Grilled tuna steaks on my awesome grill. Unfortunately these were not from a tuna that I caught, but I did buy a new fishing pole for trawling and put "Catch a Tuna" on my bucket list. Also on that list is "Learn How to Filet a Fish."

We watched some pelicans dive for fish as day turned to night and then we saw the milky way creep out from the darkness. We'd never seen the milky way on Catalina before, so that was pretty amazing. We went to sleep in the path of a crazy wind which jostled Kenutu left and right, but we woke up in the same spot and made a mental note to pick a mooring ball a little more protected by the cliff next time.

In the morning we made coffee and got to work. 

Mack got started on some projects he wanted to do (changing out the lifelines and zinc and installing an autopilot), and Scott and I got to the important work of RELAXING. At one point we all decided it was time to go to shore for a Buffalo Milk and a Painkiller, so we piled into the proper dinghy and electric motored right on over to the dinghy dock. A little hike later and we were at the bar, looking out at all the chaos and noise and activity going on at Isthmus Cove, and thanking our drunk selves for reserving the wrong mooring ball on the backside of the island.

I managed to get Mack to hike around with me a little bit so we could get a better look at our girl. Sometimes he is all work and no play, so this was no small victory. We walked up a few trails to an overlook and there she was. My god, she is beautiful. It helps that the harbor she is in is also breathtaking. We are some lucky little assholes, I tell you what.

The next day was especially rough. I had to go swimming and the water was cold. It took me like 5 minutes to get used to it and I could only swim for like 20 minutes before I started to freeze. But I found a reef full of fish and plants and sting rays and sea urchins and even a lobster! Someone asked me if I saw the leopard shark! I hadn't, thank god, but how wild that there was one to be seen!

Mack ran the engine when I got back on board and I got to enjoy a nice hot shower after my cold swim. I bundled up for another windy night and started making some linguine with clam sauce for dinner. We ate by the lantern and slept listening to the sounds of the sea. In the morning, I woke up and looked out the port window to see this. 

Given our extra sail time from the backside of the island, we packed up pretty early and got underway. As we rounded the point, I was on the helm (aka driving) and saw some crazy going on in the distance. It wasn't a boat this time, but instead a wacky dolphin having a freak out. 

We got Kenutu home in no time at all, sailing at about 6 knots most of the way. After we hosed her down and got her tucked in for the night, we went home and did the same for ourselves. It was a Labor Day well spent.

As part of the "entertainment" on the boat, Mack does a lot of projects. Massive projects that require drills and take up space and leave behind tiny shards of metal. At the marina, it's less of an issue because, you know, there's plenty of electricity and dumpsters and shoes. But when you're out at a mooring ball or anchored (we haven't anchored yet because of a dickhead that stole our windlass/was hired to repair it and never returned our phone calls), it's a little more complicated. Since Mack loves his entertainment and won't settle for puzzles like a normal person, our recent trip to Catalina meant a complete replacement of the lifelines and their fittings.

As you can see he is being very scientific with his measuring. You can also see that the old life lines are coated in a UV-protectant plastic that was all cracked, that they're pretty saggy, and that the fittings are sort of patina-ed. Apparently that coating was all the rage in the olden times but now the racer sailing types prefer uncoated stainless steel because you can see if it's starting to corrode or become compromised. At least that what Mack told me and I was pretty engrossed in my Cats of the World puzzle so I doubt I got all the details right. 

He ordered 7x7 stainless steel wire at 3/16" diameter (he thinks) from Defender.com. He also got some SunCor toggles, turnbuckles, and locking pelican hooks. Which sound like items found in a British pub to me. All in, the switch cost about $400 and took about 2 hours, which he did in 15 minute bursts throughout the weekend. 

You tell me which is the toggle and which is the turnbuckle. The pelican one at least looks like a pelican. You'll have to trust me because I didn't take a picture since WE WERE ON A VACATION.

Kenutu looks a bit sleeker with the stainless lifelines and everything feels more heavy duty in general. Especially the locking pelican hooks, which I kind of hate because you have to have two hands to pull the pin to unlock them and if you're hands are full when you go to board you mutter DAMMIT every time you see them latched. They're also a lot heavier so if one were to swing around if someone forgot to latch it, it could leave a serious mark. We also have to be more careful about hanging things like clips and hooks on the line since if a different type of metal encounters the stainless steel it might make it rust. But, I feel like I could tight rope walk on these things and they won't budge, which is all that matters if a rogue wave tries to spill one of us overboard. 
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