The boat is ALMOST ready to sail.
Funny, we thought once the masts were on, it would be a piece of cake getting Moontide back into sailing trim.
But we failed to consider that we have two completely different masts stepped onto the deck now, and how each line of running rigging attaches to the boat is a whole learning process.
Outhauls, downhauls, topping lifts, reefing points, sheet winches, wire connectors, fairleads for the sailing sheets, cleats --  all have to be built onto the masts... in appropriate locations. 
One doesn't want to promiscuously drill holes into one's shiny new masts, does one?
Looking at photos of the old masts, then standing on deck and making fools of ourselves simulating the movement of working lines to see where things will work -- it gets to be mind boggling!!

On the Bright side, after assiduously analyzing the problem, utilizing our best collective deductive reasoning, scrupulously researching, photographing and weighing what could possibly be causing the leak in our bilge, we concluded that the only feasible source of leakage could be our fresh water tank.
For eight months, we have carried bottled water onto the boat, avoiding putting water into the tank. Gabrielle has carried dishes to the restroom down the dock to wash them in a good natured way... getting the masts on was our priority. The bilge has been dry.
But with the masts on, Gabs tackled the water tank problem while I continued working on deck.
Since the water tank is fiberglass and integral to the hull, She extensively researched ways of patching it from the inside, and decided to go with epoxy.
First we cut 2 new holes in the top of the tank and installed access lids on them. Then she cleaned out the inside of the tank. Towel dried, then cleaned it again. Let it air dry for a week or so.
Just to be sure, she applied 3 coats of epoxy to the bottom and sides. No easy feat, believe me.
Next step: wash out the amine blush. She filled the tank with water, scrubbing the new surface with a bristle brush as it filled.

(Gabrielle here writing as Michael takes a break from blog posts)
With 110 gallons of fresh water back in the tank it was time to test systems. "Water preasure on" Check. "All faucets opened." Check. The tanks had to be flushed twice before use. It was on the second flush that Michael peaked into the bildge to find ... WATER! Somewhere on this fool ship we still had a water line leak. " Bloody hell!" was all I could think as months of packing water onto the boat and dishes off rushed back to my memory. Moontide, like a petulant 2 year old , has a way of  eliciting reactions from her people. Once our emotions settled logic emerged. In the restoration pages we detail the art of finding the leak but suffice to say  the actual leak was from a tiny imperceptible  hairline crack around the grey water outlet. A couple bottles of different food coloring and  my being perched atop the tanks for hours to detect an errant drop of water lead to the true cause. This was Michael's initial thought but an optical illusion  deceived us early on as we traced the leak. Once the true source of the leak was  isolated , Michael made quick work of repairing it. Again we tested the systems and this time, all was dry. This confirmation was not a minute too soon. My dear Michael was left with the task of ensuring all was working and dry as I raced to the airport to collect my sister, Kim who was traveling in from R.I. for  a visit... and yes, she stays on the boat.
My family already questions our sanity for taking on this venture, 
no running water would have erased all doubt.


NEXT POST: Moontide Rises! The Pirates Festival and sister Kim's visit

Three years. 

It has been three years since the top two feet of Moontide's Main mast snapped off in light winds.

Those of you who have followed our odd odyssey of discovery of decay and the repair that our little Mariner has undergone over these several years will be relieved to know...

We have Masts!

Through much effort, expense, and a lot of help from our friends, our mizzen was stepped in our slip at Pirate's Cove on July 21.
(See the latest entries under "Restoration - 2014" on the website)

Today, 8/05/14, the main mast, at long last, was stepped in the ways at Rocky Pointe Boat Yard.

Our special thanks go the folks at Rocky Pointe for their help and advice, to Jason Bent, Dar Nelson, and Kim Winkler, who were integral in helping us step both masts, To the Pirate Crew of Royaliste, who relinquished a day of work on their own boat to help us, and to the incredibly generous people of Pirate's Cove whose generosity of Spirit, kindness, and encouragement helped us to persevere when times were tough over the last several years.

Moontide Looks like a boat again! 

Now if we can only figure out where the damn oil leak is on the engine!!! 

Last June, when we discovered dry-rot lurking beneath the decks of Moontide's aft deck and cockpit, Gabrielle and I dug in with all the temerity we could muster. There wasn't much choice, really.
We had done the bow deck, the side decks, and a good portion of the cabins already, why not finish the job?
And yet, we hesitated. 
Rebuilding this section meant removing the electrical and mechanical components that gave us power to and steering of our little boat. Without those components, why, Moontide would become -- dare we say it? -- a BARGE!
Not that we personally have anything against barges. Aside from its unfortunate use as a verb, a barge can be quite lovely. 
However, they are also used to haul trash. And they aren't really considered... boats. 
So it was, with these thoughts in mind, that we carefully removed the wheel and control cables, steering box, deck, frames, carlins, and pretty much every rotten part of the back of the boat we could 'til we reach the hull. (See above)
Then we started putting it all back together, adding a few features that we hope will both customize, and modernize the boat while retaining her Marineresque character and qualities.

It's funny about boatbuilding. Maybe other forms of construction are like this, too. But we know this about boats:
you work and work and work, and even though you know your accomplishing tasks, nothing really LOOKS different. 
And then, one day, things strangely begin to take shape. Pieces that you never thought you'd get to reuse are suddenly part of the assembly.
We realized all this as we put the wheel back on this evening. 
Yes, we have so much to do: paint, rigging, chainplate, masts, sails... and yet.
And yet, our little barge has triumphed, and transformed. She is once again, truly, a boat!
Welcome back, our Good little boat!  Welcome home, Moontide! 

Building frames for a new design in the wheel well required head-aching math, contortions that people our age are loathe to do, and a good deal of trial and error to get a result with which we could live. 
But, as things were just beginning to fall into place, the first storms of Autumn came early... and with a vengeance, on the last days of September!

We stopped building on the boat, and devoted the next several days to creating our latest version of the Moontide "Conestoga."
Not only does it keep the rain out, it gives us room to keep working out of the elements on the deck.
By the first week in October, the rains had subsided , giving us moments of fair skies. We could crawl out of the tarp, run and cut a piece of wood on the table saw up in the parking lot, then run back down to the boat before the sky dropped another deluge on us.

Now, as mid October approaches, we can once again look through our main hatch, and see the general shape of a cockpit on Moontide's aft deck.
We still have filling, and grinding, and sanding, and epoxying, and fiberglassing, and more sanding and stuff to do, but we also have th satisfaction of knowing all our rotten wood is off the boat, and she is regaining her shape and beauty.
We'll share more as it happens.
Fair winds,
M&G

I'm afraid Sterling Hayden may be right: the years DO thunder by! Despite our plans and hopes and good intentions, a third summer has passed without getting the masts on Moontide. However, our time spent on the boat has been fruitful. We rebuilt, glassed and epoxied both cabin sides and decks, tore out the rot from the cockpit, clear back to the transom, and have almost completed rebuilding the whole rear of the boat. (See the Restoration Section of our site)
Weather was accommodating, to say the least. We cannot remember a sunnier summer in Oregon! 
And it was not all work -- we took a break and spent three wonderful days in Pt Townsend at the Wooden Boat Festival, looking at other people's boat projects and accomplishments.

There were boat builders, designers, sailors, would-be sailors, carpenters and dreamers at the show. We ran into an assortment of folks we knew: friends from Oregon, people we'd met at various other boat shows from years before, and even two couples we knew from cruising down the coast of Mexico. It was a fun getaway, a nice respite, and we saw some amazing boats.
We returned, rejuvenated, and pleased with the progress our little Moonie is making.
Be Well,
M&G

It's just that we never seem to get away from the dock to actually DO any sailing!
Spring is upon us, and the weathergods have been generous, giving Pirate's Cove an unseasonably mild February and March, and an almost scarily warm April to allow boatbuilders and rebuilders and repairers to build and rebuild and repair. 
Certainly, for laying down fiberglass and epoxy, we Moontiders have been singularly grateful for the lack of rain, and even pleasant days to put down epoxy, and sand it off. And put down epoxy, and sand it off. And put down epox-- well, you get the idea.
But the side decks are taking shape, and are downright watertight as of this April evening. Which is good news.
The inside of the boat once again looks like a boat, and we rejoice in its pleasing image and space.

Some new notes on the website: The Restoration Tab at the top of the page has subcategories now, dividing our work efforts into years and projects.
We've put several video 'trailers' on, just for fun, that folks might enjoy.
We also added more guests and crew to our list of folks who have had the opportunity to share Moontide with us.

Hope the Spring is being kind to everyone else. If you enjoy the site, please let us know.
M&G

Okay. Maybe it is a big deal. As you can see here, 7 feet of cabin wall, and 10 feet of deck are missing. 
And it's February.
And it's cold.
But, by golly, we are getting the rot out of Moontide, so she, and we, will be the better for it come Summer. Fortunately only two frames had rot in them, and those have been replaced. 
Now to rebuild the sheer frames, and sheer strakes, soak the extant wood in penetrating epoxy (to placate the rot gods), install the freshly made deck and cabin panels, and we'll be weather tight, to say the least.
I won't go on about the wiring, plumbing, fiberglassing, kitchen reassembly, painting, yaddahyaddahyaddah.
Each activity has its turn.
We are grateful that weather, though cold, has been fairly dry for the days off from my real job, so we're actually getting some work done here.
When it gets too cold, and/or the rains come, we lay down plastic and insulation, throw the tarps down, and snuggle in the main cabin.
Not everyone would call this boat work "Romantic." And yet, the camaraderie and pursuit of a common goal gives us opportunities for closeness that may perhaps elude other couples.
In any case, we still like each other.

Seems a good time to begin this blog. We are in the dead of winter, here in the Pacific Northwest. Temperatures soared to 39 degrees today, making it a challenge to step outside, much less do work on the boat.
Our current status: 7 feet of deck is missing on the port stern quarter, and a large chunk of cabin wall is hanging loose over the galley, too rotten to clamp back together, too many other tasks to be done before it's safe to remove, waiting for its opportunity to be undone and rebuilt.
But it's cozy inside, thanks to Gabrielle's imaginative use of insulation and seat cushions for padding. 
Building this site, I've been reminded just how far we have come over the past two years, and feel a deep sense of gratitude for my loving companion, for her energy, intelligence and generosity, for our lives, our health, and for having together endured -- even thrived -- through events that were hazardous and sometimes dangerous to  life and limb.
Boat life is either adventure or adversity, depending on how you look at it.  Even rebuilding a boat that you live on is successful solely based on your perspective.
Gabrielle and I feel truly successful... and this boat gives us opportunities every day to be more successful! 
We hope you enjoy sharing our adventures.
M&G