Lizard men on the moon

Catastrophe avoided. There is a new sailboat that has arrived in the marina. It resembles an old pirate ship and is owned by a "nice" looking man, let's call him Jim, with a husky pup. I should probalby say that the pup is nice. Jim? I'm not so sure.

Personal space on the docks is limited. Most liveaboard's spend a good deal of time in their cockpits so everyone can see what everyone else is doing. Etiquette requires that a person may not board someone else's boat without requesting permission. Many boaters believe their personal space also extends the length of the finger on which thier boat resides. Walking down someone else's finger, without knowing the person, can incite violence.

Enter Jim.

Jim went over to my friend "Al's" boat and accused Al of stealing Jim's dock steps. Jim didn't introduce himself or even say hello. He just came barreling down the finger with wild accusations.

Now Al, he's sort of a private person. I wouldn't want to mess with Al. Fortunately, Jim caught Al on a good day. Al calmly shooed Jim away stating no knowlegde of the alleged crime. Unfortunately, this answer wasn't sufficient for Jim. Jim went back to the pirate ship and got his rifle. Rifle? I wonder what he plans on hunting with a rifle. I prefer to get my fish with a rod and reel.

Needless to say, the response time of LA Port Police is phenomenal. Cops a plenty. I'm thinking the man may be a bit unstable. I learned Jim is convinced there are colonies of lizard men on the moon and the CIA airbrushes the colonies out of all lunar photographs. Now that has to take some time.

I'm hoping the marina will stand firm on their three day notice to vacate. One down...two to go. To the moon with him.

Potty talk

Ok, so there are some not so nice things about living on a boat. I do have a lovely bathroom with a functioning head, or toilet, and shower. The problem is that the waste goes into a holding tank that needs to be pumped out when full. Rather than spending the money in fuel to start up my engines (twin gas 454's) I found a company that will come to the boat and pump out for me. Who would have thought that there would be a company called Royal Flush Pumping Service? I haven't used my head since I purchased the boat since I don't know how full the tank is. I have been using the communal bathroom facilities that the marina provides. Unfortunately, this past weekend there was a sign posted saying "Please don't poop in the showers. Call management if you have any questions." Questions? Really? I have tons of questions about this. So, tomorrow is the day of reckoning. My holding tank is getting pumped and I will be using my own facilities.

Bloop, bloop

At 38, six months out of a six year relationship, I decided to do something out of the norm. I bought a boat. I knew I couldn't afford a condo or home without having roommates and moving in with my mother wasn't an option. Especially since she lives three doors down from my ex. Living on a boat is the cheapest waterfront living I could find. I know, I know. Boat does stand for "Break Out Another Thousand." But, I needed this. A complete change in scenery, a change in life, a positive move forward. Not all my friends and family were in support of me living alone on the docks, but I have been around boats and salty characters all my life.

MY new home. A 35 foot Cruisers powerboat, a fat-bottomed girl (like her owner), named Sun Pacific. Although the boat is supposedly from Downey, where there is no body of water, it now resides in lovely Wilmington, California. I am in heaven. "Bloop, bloop" is the sound I hear every time I climb into my new home. Water laps the hull in a soothing rythm that makes all my worries disappear (that is after I check the bilge pumps to make sure the boat isn't sinking).

I chose the marina in Wilmington because I once read an article in the LA Times that refers to this section of the harbor as "where the sewer meets the sea". I know that doesn't sound appealing, but the marina provided just the change I needed and suited my pocketbook. Plus, finding a liveaboard slip in Southern California is close to impossible with all the new Homeland Security restrictions. Once a haven for people seeking a cheaper lifestyle or escapism, now marinas are only allowed to offer 5% of their available slips to liveaboards.

Once completely settled in I realized that a single female on the docks is quite a comodity. "A chick on a boat? You know how to drive that thing? What kind of enginges do you have? You married? You have an ice maker?" I was thoroughly amused and happier that I've been in a long while. The prospective suiters covered the spectrum of eccentricity.

I've decided to write this blog to document the relationships and experiences that go along with living on the docks. Dish of the dock. It's definitely a source of entertaiment and wonder. I hope you all enjoy it.