Weekend Overtime.

Side deck, bow looking aft.

 So.  Yesterday morning was spent in torrential rain with an industrial pressure-sprayer removing rust scale from the deck.  It's a lot like a pressure washer, but stronger.  The scuppers in the bulwarks are blocked while in port to contain potential oil spills, so a river was running down the deck toward the stern.  Needless to say my Sperry boots were not up for the task.  I scrounged around and found a pair of boots I will recommend to anyone who will listen- Boggs.  They're neoprene and rubber and unbelievably comfortable, warm, and dry!  Lightweight, too, so it really makes a difference when you're going up and down stairs all day.

After lunch I joined the bosun and two others from the deck department and went to Costco.  An extra knife and light for my personal away-kit, gum, cliff bars, alleve and antacid, hydrogen peroxide... you know, glamorous stuff in quantities that can only be described as gross.  What does a gallon of pepto bismol say about a man that can't be said in any other way?  I mean, really.

Aft deck ("fantail") gypsy-heads.

We then went to a Brazilian Steakhouse.  I was terrified when I looked at the menu- sushi?  Nothing foreshadows disappointment like the divergence between two culinary cultures which can best be described as "diametrically and magnetically opposed."  But I was stupidly surprised and I ate until I couldn't take anymore.  When we got back to the ship I have no real memory of anything other than putting things away and entering a full-on food coma.  I slept for the first time in about a week.

So today we set about to pressure-spraying the scale off the deck again, but no sooner had we set up than the chief mate came along and told us the water maker was offline and that we'd have to refrain from using water.  So we packed it all in, which seems simple, but isn't:  The pressure washer has a DC motor about the size of a 5 gallon bucket and weighs about 350 lbs.  To get it into the forecastle water-tight hatch requires a chain-fall and a couple extra hands.

Ship beyond the fantail, which is below the pictured level.

But we did.  So we grabbed a cartload of needle guns, pneumatic chisels, and "lawn mowers" and set about to taking scale down to bare metal on the hatch combings.  I wore earplugs in my ears under a second layer of over-ear protection and it was still an impressive din.  The whole deck department got in on the action and watching the engineers and mates scurry past with their fingers in theirs ears gave me a sick bit of pleasure.  Karma came back to me in the form of rust in every nook, cranny, crease, orifice, warp, weft, pore and microscopic cutaneous opening on my persons.  To break for lunch required 15 minutes at a utility sink before I could use the sink in my quarter.  It was the same after lunch, too.

So after dinner I discovered the movie library- thousands of dvd's and vhs tapes!  I grabbed all three Lord of The Ring dvd's and proceeded to eat an entire Theo chocolate bar that Laura sent along with me while feeling sorry for Frodo.

OH YEAH!  I finally made it down to the engine room.  Holy shit.  That's all I can say... holy shit.  We've been delayed because a bearing caught fire and they are building a new one, so we went down to check it out.  The shaft is about 3 feet across, and they're milling it smooth with a special lathe that runs around the outside of the shaft... pretty dull in comparison to a 4 story friggin' engine!  Holy shit!  There are doors into the actual crank case, then up a floor are doors into the actual valves, then up a floor are doors into the... well, you get the idea.  The engine is the size of a tugboat... don't let any tugboat guy tell you any different.  The vents, valves, pipes, cable trays, site windows, relays, etc. run in all different directions and confound the comprehension- just the water maker intake is a mess of pipes that open up into large flanges that... oh, nevermind.  I'll try to get photos.  Suffice it to say the scale of things on this boat can make you feel pretty damned insignificant to the overall function of the vessel, herself.

OK.  I'm done here.  I don't know when I greased the chainfall gears on the windlass (was that today or yesterday?) but the chain has a tendency to concoidially explode in clouds of rust and shift dangerously right next to your head while you apply with a brush (through a hole the size of your head) the nastiest, stickiest grease you can imagine onto gears that could cut a car in two...

Yep.  Too tired to try and edit this.  I will sleep well tonight, that's for sure!