We're at that part of the relationship where it's okay to get gas.

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.

You sure that's the gas tank?

I'm sure. Stop asking me or you're swimming back.

An aside, we've been watching a lot of boating fail videos lately. Everything from docking to mechanical blunders to bad weather scenarios to deliberate destruction of boats by ramming them into jetties and blowing them up to capsizing. It's giving us an arsenal of catastrophic thoughts, but it is also very comforting to know that lots of boaters screw up, some way worse than we ever have. The trend seems to be try, try again until you are successful... hopefully without an audience filming your fails.

​Getting gas was such a resounding success that Mack bought us a six-pack of Kona Longboard to enjoy back in the slip. It's very important to celebrate the small victories.