We have entered the voyage preparation phase full force. On its base level for me, this means outfitting Serenity and ourselves for a great adventure full of overanticipated misfortunes.
On an even baser level, it means watching our bank account start to go down instead of up, so now we have to do all this outfitting while all of a sudden being huge cheapskates.
Why yes, that is an iPhone cord holding my visor together. How lovely you noticed.
But here’s the thing: if necessity is the mother of invention, then this must be the beginning of my golden age. When I see that a wind vane autopilot costs $3-4K I immediately think (with seductive encouragement from Internet forums), “I could build one of those for waay cheaper.” The same has been true of windows, wind generators, solar power installation, dodgers, biminis, sail covers, SSB – the list only grows longer.
So I research said forums, and I visit Home Depot multiple times a week searching in vain for a particular specific and bullet-proof type of bracket or connector or pole, etc., and ultimately head back to Serenity with something that might eventually perform its intended job once I’ve tweaked it a bit – a process that continues this cycle ad infinitum.
In the end I’ll have gone and built an invention whose utility is usually inversely proportionate to its ugliness. If you unravel that last bit of logic you may think, “Hey, that’s pretty good!”. If you thought that, then you’re looking at the wrong end of the stick. Observe.
Exhibit B, my homebrew wind generator, which pumps out between 1/2 and 1 amp. That’s not very much, but don’t worry, there are a few more tweaks I can try. (The Rolling Rock visor was Exhibit A, but to be fair, when river rafting there is a third F known as ‘Freaking Awesome’, in which ugly things gain gnarly status.)
This iterative invention process has been going on for years, which means that under the vee-berth sits a graveyard of incomplete hardware, including a bouquet of old wires, custom bent aluminum bars, PVC pipes of many diameters and lengths, various foil-wrapped tubes of miracle adhesives, and more. Plus piles and piles of tools. This hardware storage area serves a utilitarian purpose of its own, however: The cat likes to hang out in there because it’s so dark and crowded. At least one of my constructions appears to be making someone satisfied.
When Harmony says that she wishes she had more counter space, I’m already looking through the bones – my boxes of leftover raw materials – to see what I can build without making yet another trip to Home Depot.
To tell the truth though, I’m kind of proud of all the bristling ugly inventions and craftwork I’ve added to Serenity over the years. Even better, now that I actually HAVE to be frugal and we are living lives of ACTUAL necessity, my DIY habit starts to look more like invention and less like what it actually is – stubbornness and poor skills.
The moral of the story is that if you ever find yourself in a position to take an extended journey, make sure to buy all the cool toys before you pinch off the paycheck tap.
-J
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Endnote
Secondary Title: Residual Yuppie Kvetching
I officially quit my job over a month ago now. Money used to be this liquid force that filled our conjugal bucket*, and as long as the holes we put in the bottom of that bucket (i.e., whims and necessities) let out less than poured in every month, the future was secure and we were winning.
Now the bucket is only holes. Every inch that escapes through the buckshot bottom leaves a new bathtub ring representing a month of future sailing freedom spent before we even get there. Time and money have become interchangeable in this way like never before in our lives, where time has the ability to turn into physical matter with weight, into a number that is alive, and it has begun to run out.
That and turning 30 will make a person feel old, I will tell you.
But enough of the caterwauling. Things on the whole are of the good!
*a gross phrase in hindsight.