The Tao of Murphy

Leslie:  I don't like it when seagulls hover over my head while I type. Back off seagull!

Carl, Lisa and I are sitting in the sun at the marina's fish and chips shop, enjoying some of our favorite beers; Presidente, Anchor Steam, and Sierra Nevada, respectively, waiting for our boat to be hulled out of the water on a giant sling. I can't even see what I'm typing right now, it's so bright. I'm probably writing something completely different from what I'm intending; hopefully something completely better; written by the Tao flowing through me and whatnot. I've been reading The Way of Chuang Tzu every night before bed. I'm really happy to have finally finished the writer's note and introduction, as it was putting me promptly to sleep. But, what I did absorb says that when the Tao is flowing through you, you get all Franciscan and become one with nature and all it's little creatures, and this seems to be so. 

This morning I woke up early to walk past the nasty dredger-output-thing spewing black nastiness into the ocean (it is allegedly just stuff dredged from the bottom of the channel--which, by the way, we could hear happening all night long--but it looks like the black death to me), then past a dead bird seemingly coated in black death, and did yoga on the beach for a hour or so. It was lovely. And right now, as Lisa says, "It's a little Hitchcockian around here," regarding the swarms of birds flocking around the restaurant's garbage can. They actually fly inside of the garbage can and come back out with chunks of fried fish in their beaks. Sickening. Birds are sick. But I am Tao. So, I am sick? I really hope that the Tao in me is actually writing about last night's excitement.

Quantum leap to Latte 101, where Andy and I are now internetting. While Lisa was writing her post about the mast being pulled up, little did we know that our bilge was full of water, and filling. And no, not from the first leaking water tank. Note the "first" there, and hang on a tick. So, as we're packing up to go watch that Valentine's Day classic, Tron: Legacy, for $3 at the local cinema, Don notices water in the space where the mast used to be. "Holy Shit!" says Don. Then he opens up the engine compartment and it's like we have our own secret jacuzzi. Don again invokes the religiosity of excrement. The bilge pump is flicked on and all is well, except for the fact that we miss Tron and all other $3 movies playing at a decent hour, we don't actually have a secret jacuzzi, and what we did have was whatever it was that caused water to seep in in the first place. The common consensus is that the mast, once removed, took pressure off of some loose keel bolts, which then let in water and ruined our lovely night. Aw well. We consoled ourselves by driving around aimlessly, considered going bowling, and then just sat glumly eating our dinner in the car. 

Onward and upward, as always! It was an exciting morning of having Refridgerator Mike come tell it to us true about our refridgeratation system (in a better-than-we-expected-way), then finding a second leaky water tank, turning on all the faucets to drain out the tank before it flooded the bilge, only to find that the galley sink plumbing hadn't been put back together by "Andrew Grant Craig!"...it was a bit of a comedy show. One that I completely missed while doing my afore-mentioned yoga, marathon showering, and laundry. I was there, however, to experience Carl triumphantly motoring us over to the shipyard. While we (for the second time) forgot to unplug our shore power cord, Carl was a featherweight champ at getting her out of our slip and into theirs.

Speaking of Carl, let me just say that this guy is great with families. Alright, this is really just my segue from the events of today and yesterday, to give a shout-out to my family's visit this past weekend. Thanks for coming out, gang! It was a blasterootie! Don't worry about any of those things written above. We're on it! 

Finally to end this on an even more positive note, tonight is Taco Tuesday at Rubio's, where the five of us can all get full on fish tacos for under $25. Yes, more fish tacos. It's all we eat when Lisa isn't cooking for us! [Editor's note: as this was finally posted on Thursday morning, I'd like to point out that we enjoyed MORE fish tacos courtesy of Grant and Lee last night; lightly fried then baked for crunch! Mmmm.] And, we will be trying for another $3 go at Tron, before we come home to our boat-on-blocks to read some more Chuang Tzu, sleep, dream, and wake up to another productive day.