When life give you lemons, and you want lemonade, hit them with a hammer

     We have been moving pretty well over the last few days. We got the stove taken out, cleaned the propane storage lockers, had propane cans checked, tracked propane lines, cleaned and repaired the anchor locker, rebuilt the mainsheet winch, and probably a few other things I'm forgetting.
     The mainsheet winch was/is interesting. The original plan was to remove it and replace it with a self-tailing winch (ours is a flat top or "grinder"). This would allow us to raise the main with only one person at the mast as opposed to two. Sounds great, so we ask around on how to pierce these seemingly monolithic constructions. With not a screw head in sight they are a little perplexing, that is until you have that forehead slapping moment that comes with every new project on a boat (you really gotta remember that boats have been around for ages and they haven't changed much, even the newer things tend to be pretty simple). So once we had the retaining ring pointed out to us (right dead center on top) the drum and upper assembly came right off. It was almost like someone designed it to do this! But now the fun part.

     Now we can see the six bolts holding the winch to the mast. They are some of the largest flathead screws I have ever seen. Quickly realizing we don't have have a worthy adversary for these things, I run down the pier to our brother in arms, Greg. He is similar in age to Andy and I, on a similar sized boat, and planning a passage to New Zealand. Needless to say we chat regularly, and joke constantly about the losing battle that is boat repair. Anyway, he lends me a 15" screw driver that is essentially the biggest you can get. Yeah that didn't work. Off to the auto parts store, and after chatting with the guy at the parts counter he tells us our best chance is something called a "drag link". It looked a little too big but we talked about how I could re-tool it without ruining it's temper.
     It's too big. After and hour of time with the angle grinder pretending to be a bench grinder by being pressed to my thigh, we had a perfect fit. Pop it on the ratchet handle and pull! Yeah, our new drag link twisted.
    So I break out our winch rebuild kit (basically grease, oil and a little brush) and begin reading the instructions. If the damn thing won't come off, then it will work perfectly. The instructions say "be sure to only use paraffin to clean all parts" and I immediately think, 'dad would have just stuck all this stuff in diesel, but maybe I should listen to the instructions'. I run to the marine supply shop at the end of the parking lot and ask about paraffin to clean winch parts, and the guy behind the counter says "I would just stick all that stuff in diesel".
     Sitting in front of a bucket of diesel fuel and greasy parts, I can't help but think of my dad. Andy and I have been talking a few times about my father's tool chest we gave to a friend in Colorado and what it actually was. It certainly isn't just a 3/4 ton pile of steel. It's kind of like a half burnt book. A treasure trove of stories and knowledge, but it's written in some personal shorthand and chunks are missing. Eventually you are just banging your head against the wall trying to read it without the author. At this point I must have gotten some diesel in my eye, or something. It is tough loosing a mentor, amongst other things. The thought of legacies broken, stories half told, and the lost black magic of masters.
    Whoa, where the fuck did I just go. What' that over there? I gotta go. Oh, but the diesel did work like a charm.