Boat Bites

First, I need to add a few terms to our glossary:

Marine Survey-a detailed inspection of the hull and other systems on a boat you are about to buy or sell performed by a professional surveyor and paid for by the buyer, similar to a home inspection on a residence

Mechanical Survey-a detailed inspection of the diesel engines, generator, and other mechanical systems performed by a professional mechanic and paid for by the buyer.

Sea Trial-a "test drive" of the boat you are about to purchase with the boats owner, broker, the marine surveyor, the mechanic, they buyer's broker, the Admiral, and me

Hatch-a hinged or removable section of the boat's floor which opens to the engine room or other compartments below

Stringer-a framing member in the hull of the boat

Boat Bites-my first mate's term for the inevitable bruises, cuts and scrapes that occur while boating, docking or just moving around the boat

After a few days R & R in beautiful Sarasota, Florida, we were excited to actually get out on the boat we hope to soon own.  Thanks to Curtis, (our broker) who doesn't take "no" for an answer, we were able to schedule the marine survey for the Monday following the acceptance of our offer last Thursday.  We all met at 8:30 AM, and Tom (the seller) took us for a quick ride to the boatyard where the boat was hauled out and inspected.  Three hatches had been removed from the main salon and galley area to provide unhindered access for Ed and Dave, the surveyor and mechanic, who crawled into every nook and cranny looking for rust, corrosion, defective hoses, leaks, dryrot, stowaways, contraband (kidding on those last two) etc.  Remember, they are working for me, so I want them to find anything and everything that might prove to be a problem if we close the deal on this boat.

Now my first mate is widely known to bruise easily and after most of our boat trips has random purple spots in various wierd locations on her body.  Half of them she doesn't even remember when or where they occurred.  She calls them "boat bites".  Boating can be very dangerous, and we all get the occasional cuts, scrapes, etc., but Carrie makes it an art form.  Once when we returned from a month on our boat in Catalina, Carrie put on that cute little yoga outfit I like so much and I told her, "You can't go to yoga like that, your friends will think I beat you".  Really, she looked like she had gone a few rounds with a boxer or maybe a mud wrestler.  But back to our story...

After the haul out, just as we were pulling away from the boatyard dock, Gill (our broker's wife) rushed up the ladder to the fly bridge where Tom and I were putting the boat through her paces and announced that Carrie might have seriously hurt herself.  It seems she had gone downstairs to inspect the galley and after negotiating carefully around the first two open hatches, had a complete brain fart and stepped blindly into the third opening falling to the engine room floor.  She landed about four feet straight down on a stringer, which bent her big toe in a very unnatural angle and also rolled her ankle.  I rushed down to her and knew immediately that her big toe was broken.  But Tom had already administered first aid in the form of a large glass of vodka and a bag of ice, so, back to the fly bridge I went for the additional hour or so of sea trial.  Carrie sat in a chair in the salon feeling embarrased and hurting like hell.  What a trooper! 

After a quick trip to Tom's best friend (an orthopedic surgeon) Carrie returned with her foot in a snow ski boot looking contraption.  She had obliterated (my word, not the surgeon's) her big toe and would need to wear this thing for six or so weeks, with a twelve week full recovery.  She had taken "Boat Bite" to a whole new level.  We flew home from Tampa that night with her old friend Vicodin.  They had become close many years ago when she broke her arm rollerblading...but that's another story.

But, you have to be real careful when you tease your first mate about being clumsy.  It's bad karma.  This morning, as I was stepping off the back of Testa Dura with a fuel hose, I slipped on some moss (yes, grassy crap) growing on the edge of the fuel dock.  It was 7 AM, and my friend John and I had just fueled the boat for its' return voyage from Ventura to the Bay Area.  I wasn't planning a swim this morning, but...damn the ocean is cold there this time of year.  I manage to scrape my leg on either the boat or the dock on the way down and due to the new meds from my recent cardiac visit, I bled so much it looked as if someone had taken a chain saw to my leg.  It was nothing serious really, but John and I decided that we would forego our planned trip to the sewage pump out station.  It is a do-it-yourself affair and we just felt nothing good could come of it.  So, we returned to our slip and my first mate had a great laugh.

Boating is not supposed to be a full body contact sport, but you wouldn't know it by the week we just had.

Here is Carrie after first aid was administerd.  You can see the open hatch in the background that she had fallen through.

Here is her sexy new footwear, now I like black boots, but this is ridiculous...

And here is my leg after we cleaned it up!

Remember, "Boating is Fun"!!!