The Boat Story

Last Friday marked one year since we pulled into Alaska with our motorhome and trailer filled with all our earthly goods. So much has happened in one year! We tore down the old house, built a new one, Andy fell off the roof, had surgery to screw his hip back together and was laid up for 12 weeks; we helped start a church up here and house sat for two months of the winter in beautiful Talkeetna Alaska, and we had a surprise pregnancy ending with the birth of our sweet Oscar.

It’s been a full year!

Now that we have hit the year mark, it means we are finally Alaskan residents, which includes a few perks. First of all, fishing and hunting licenses are about a fourth of the price when you are a resident versus the a tourist. Andy wasted no time going and getting his fishing license and he’s been at the river a couple times after work trying to catch a King Salmon. No luck so far – the Salmon run is late since it’s been a cold spring.

And also there is the dividend. Alaskan residents receive a yearly stipend from the tax on the oil. It is usually more than $1,000 per Alaskan resident. Sweet! That can really help offset the higher cost of living up here!

But living in Alaska is not all fun and games, and right now we are tired of cold and rain at a time of year when we are used to sunshine and heat and strawberries. The long days are hard to get used to as well. We only have about three hours of darkness in a 24 hour period. I usually get to see the dark since I’m up with Oscar in the night, but Andy and the other children go to bed when the sun is shining and wake up when it’s shining. It takes some getting used to.

Then there are the times you go try to do a fun Alaskan activity to help yourself not miss the summery things all your family is doing, and it simply falls flat. Here is what Andy wrote about our recent boating experience.

Andy here,

Today we went boating! Typically a great idea like this begins with visions of a boat charging across the waves with power and authority or at least skipping across the waves happily and merrily, with people smiling and cheering on the deck and generally having a great time.

The last time we had a great idea like this was when I was taking the greenhouse down at the cabins where I work and thought I could use an extra hand.

Since Tabitha actually has two hands she offered to help and we thought it would be a great idea to go as a family. The children could play happily, Oscar could sleep in the baby carrier, and we could enjoy working together again like we used to.

We had forgotten to take into account the extra-curricular activity that accompanies such an endeavor. It seems these days that if Gabe and Jasmine are in a new place they automatically think that they have the self-evident right to be held, no matter the inconvenience of the holder, and upon denial of this right, to excercise their right to free speech in the form of voluminous and incessant amounts of vocal excercise also known as screaming and roaring.

Tabitha ended up staying in the van with the children and I took the greenhouse down by myself that evening. We tried it again a few days later with the same result other than Oscar sleeping that time, which freed Tabitha up to hold Jasmine.

That helped reduce the amount of energetic vocal excercise significantly, but it was still bothersome.

Enter the idea of a boat ride! Matt Snader had mentioned a boat in one of his books which he had hauled to Alaska to sell and it has been a never ending saga of trying fruitlessly to get the fool thing to work ever since.

It seemed to have taken on the personality of an angry mule, trying to take a bite or two out of your flesh if you are forcing it to work, and other times not working at all, no matter how much you force it, just for the fun of being ornery and the kick it gets out of watching you stamp and steam until it decides in its own good time and on its own terms when and where to imperil or embarrass you next.

Matt had actually gotten it to the point where there wasn’t really anything else of significance to replace, and there was nothing that could really go wrong with it anymore anyway. Or so he thought.

A few days ago he took it down to the Homer boat harbor to dock it, as he had a transient parking permit for it.

That means that you can moor your boat in certain places where the edge is painted yellow for a monthly fee, instead of having to haul the beastly contraption all the way down to Homer in the case you ever had the unexplainable urge to go stake your life and/or dignity on an ever-losing attempt at getting a decent boat ride out of it.

Of course with all the issues having been cleared up already all we had to do was to come swooping in, take our guests on a cool boat ride, and go swooping out again, telling them all the while how foolish they are for not living in Alaska where they could “do this all the time if you lived here.”

That’s why it’s a good thing to have a friend who has a boat. That way they take care of all the headache and expense and you get to have all the fun! As long as your friend has a good boat, that is.

We decided to take our guests out on Matt’s boat to make sure the kinks were all worked out of the system. It was a favor for him and for our guests, since it would break in the newly rebuilt engine while giving Tabitha’s sisters a taste of authentic Alaska. I guess you could say that we were successful on both counts.

When we arrived in Homer we realized that the tide was way out, a “clam tide”, where the tide is lower than normal. Thankfully this didn’t cause a problem for us since the Doesn’t Leak was on the inside of the docking area. If it had been on the outside we would have been stuck for at least an hour until the tide came up enough to give us room to manuever.

Matt called and said to give it some more coolant because it had a new coolant system and it still needed to be filled up and get the bubbles worked out of it.

I gave it a gallon and then I gave it another gallon and it finally seemed full. It had overheated when he had launched it last, so he wanted me to keep an eye on it. We all piled in and I got the engine started with some coaching from Matt, but it was starting to show some of its true colors already.

Apparently the mule was rearing its ugly head once more. I figured it was just still kicking and that it would smooth out with some use. We made it out of the harbor eventually, and I thought I was getting used to the beast by now and was able to read its mind fairly well. Everybody was sitting on the seat in the back, including the children, and they hadn’t even started screaming or crying yet.

The sea was as smooth and clear as I could ask for, and I was captain of a large expensive-looking boat out on a joyride! I opened up the throttle and it pointed it’s nose at the sky and it suddenly seemed to be trying to escape the water at any possible cost, tipping way back in the water.

I started imagining scenes of horses rearing so far that they fell back on their riders, so I cut the throttle and it settled back down to horizontal mode. I fiddled with the buttons and pushed them this way and that and finally figured out how to bring the nose down somewhat, so we charged ahead again at the magnificent speed of ten miles an hour or so. I think it can actually go faster than that if a few things are adjusted, but I believe that some of the adjusters are disconnected.

We plowed ahead with China Poot bay in mind. We eventually got there, and enjoyed the view of the sea caves in the cliff face from a safe distance. The depth went from around 500 feet to about 20 feet pretty quickly, but then it leveled off and I thought it would be a great thing to watch the depth gauge and go see the caves.

We saw an otter and were sitting there watching it, when all of a sudden I realized the depth reader was saying 4 feet!

I first panicked, but then realized that it couldn’t be right because if it was only four feet deep I would be able to see the bottom. Just to prove it to myself I looked over the edge, and what do you know, I COULD SEE THE BOTTOM!!

In some boats this wouldn’t be a big deal, but in fiberglass boats you don’t ever want to run aground because they aren’t as tough as aluminum boats and can crack and get holes fairly easily from hitting things.

I quickly threw it in reverse which immediately killed the engine and I started sweating and steaming. Actually, I think I was shaking.

The boat wasn’t quite ready to go down yet though, so after working me into enough of a sweat it decided enough was enough and coughed to life enough to get back to deeper water.

Once out of danger I decided to check out Gull Island. It’s a group of large boulders jutting up from the ocean and so covered with sea gulls it makes it look white in color.

As we approached, the engine died again, just on a whim with no reason. I couldn’t believe it! A newly rebuilt engine shouldn’t do that!

I realized that the boat was trying to scare me again as it drifted nearer the rocks. It’s a good thing I am a novice on a boat because I could get scared without actually being in immediate danger, whereas an old sea captain might not get scared by much and the old crafty craft might make a slight mistake in calculations while trying to raise a goose bump on him and actually destroy itself on the rocks.

You have to know how to behave around an ornery boat in order to stay on the safe side.

I called Matt and he thankfully answered and had some more advice.

“There’s a thing you have to squeeze sometimes. Squeeze it and see if that helps.”

We opened up the engine compartment and after I found the little bulb he was talking about, I squeezed it until it wouldn’t squeeze any more.

The engine fired up and we headed straight for the harbor only about five miles away.

Two minutes later the engine died again.

After trying fruitlessly to start it up, we let it sit about five minutes and it coughed to life.

Only to die again in a few minutes.

I believe we repeated the above steps about ten or twenty times in those five miles. Actually, I think that the squeezing didn’t help a whole lot because Joanna sat there and squeezed the fuel pump bulb and the engine would still die just to be ornery.

We were all starting to wonder if we would ever make it back to the harbor and dry ground.

The children had been perfect little angels earlier in the trip with lots of aunts around to hold them. The screaming hadn’t started up until the boat started acting up so often, but it was getting downright intolerable by now. I’m sure my vocal cords have sustained permanent damage. I don’t know if laryngitis is terminal in the advanced stages, but I expect to find out in the near future.

The children themselves were as happy as larks. I think Jasmine even took a nap while being held.

I started texting Matt what I thought of his boat, and he seemed concerned. He texted back that I was sounding like him now! He said that the problem might be old fuel, as most of it is two years old.

I said that it might be a bad attitude on the part of the boat that could be fixed with a hefty amount of dynamite.

He suggested that two to three sticks might do the job, but I didn’t think you would want to risk any chance of survivability.

We were just coming into the harbor entrance then, so I devoted my attention to steering and other traffic. And what traffic! A huge ship was maneuvering its way through the narrow channel that is the mouth of the harbor, and when the boat died (again) it looked like I was going to run right into it and probably get ground into fiberglass bits.

I got it started up and threw it into reverse, whereupon the engine promptly died again. I managed to get it started and get it into reverse long enough to avoid a collision, but by then I was getting used to its attempts to scare me and it had to drift to within about an arms length of the ship to make sure I got scared.

The fellow on the bridge was nice and even thanked me for stopping. I apologized for not being able to get out of his way while vainly trying to coax some life out of the old beast.

Alas, it was not to be.

The captain of the boat behind me offered to give me a tow and I gladly accepted.

The Doesn’t Leak promptly turned her stern on the nice boat, making it more difficult to tie up and tow. We managed despite her efforts, and she had to come whether or not she wanted to. It was good to have that feeling just once on the trip, that here was something that she didn’t want to do, and she didn’t have any say!

After a bit she decided to let me get the engine started and we unhooked. I thanked the fellow, and motored over to an open area. We managed to get the engine running enough to get docked, and then we were very glad to get off of that ornery beast!

I think the problem may very well be bad fuel, but it has a full 100 gallon tank of the stuff if that is indeed the problem. I hope to take it out once the mule’s death throes have ended and once the cabin has been cleaned thoroughly.

It has a kitchen and even a bathroom with a shower! It is amazing how much they can pack into a relatively small space. I think it could sleep eight as well. I would like to have a boat like that someday if I can get one that runs reliably.

So long, and God bless!

Andy

We managed to have fun in spite of the constant break downs.

Gull Island