La Vida Agua – Installment 1 (of likely many)

My first memory of driving a boat is of me in my orange “Mae West” life preserver, sitting on my Pawpaw’s lap. My hands were on the wheel as we made our way up Lake Burton to Mary and PD’s cabin for dinner. Nana was riding shotgun. I must have been 3 or 4 years old. My grandfather had a fiberglass open bow boat, maybe 15 feet in length and powered by a 75hp Evinrude outboard. I remember feeling like we were flying over the water. A few short years later I was allowed to operate “putt putt” on my own. “Putt putt” was an old wooden boat my Nana had. It had a 5 horse Johnson motor, a metal steering wheel, and it meant heavenly freedom! Being allowed to drive it alone officially elevated me to a big kid. I took my cousin and my little brother, and sometimes my friend Ginger across the lake to the Marina for lunch and ice cream (which we charged to my grandparents account.) Sometimes we would stop at the beekeepers place, Honey Hill, to make use of the rope swing. I spent a good bit of time every summer of my childhood on that lake in North Georgia, and with those boats. The very best memories from my childhood are a result of that time, and I have had a love of Mountain Lakes, and of boats ever since.

Fast forward past several decades and multiple boat excursions and rentals (both sailing and power) to now. In the twists and turns that our lives take, where I am now is nothing I could (or would) have imagined just a few years ago. The least surprising part is that there is a boat involved. My husband has a love of boats as well, and has owned several. However, other than a 3-day excursion with friends on a houseboat at Lake Powell (and few cruise ship experiences) neither of us has actually lived aboard. Until now. Almost 3 weeks ago Tao 1 completed the final leg of her journey to her home in the UAE. It was a long and rough journey for all of us, but she made it relatively intact, and we are settling in and learning how to live in a small floating space.

Our learning curve is large, and is coming at us quickly. There are things we expected, and things that we could not possibly have anticipated, regardless of what we have read, been told, and observed. Some of the things we knew… Air conditioning needs in the Middle East far exceed those in the Mediterranean, where our boat has lived its entire life. What does that mean? That means the 2 compressors we have on board are in no way capable of keeping our living space anywhere near cool between about 10AM and 5PM unaided. We also knew that we need to apply anti-fouling as soon as possible (scheduled for late September so it won’t melt off). We knew that the fire extinguishers need to be replaced/recharged. Those are the things that needed to be done right away. There are some other things that we can do as we go, but none of them are major. That was our conclusion when we made the decision to purchase her while in Tunisia last spring.

Fast forward to almost 90 days later when she arrived in Jebel Ali port, just south of Dubai. After several delays (at least one caused by the US Navy having target practice at Iran in the Persian Gulf) the transport boat finally arrived. Since we expected the air conditioning problem, we had the custom cover company lined up and ready when Tao 1 arrived. They had to measure, and it would take a while to have the covers made. However, as I alluded earlier there were a few additional issues we discovered that we did not expect. Our expectation was that we would offload the boat in Dubai, and motor right on down to Abu Dhabi. That did not happen. When we were finally able to board her, we saw a large stain covering the floor at the flybridge helm. Turns out that somewhere along the way, there was an issue with the steering, and what we saw was hydraulic steering fluid spread across the floor. We had no autopilot and very little steering capability using the wheel. In addition, contrary to the agreement, they shipped her almost completely empty of fuel. One of the forward tanks had ¼ tank, the rest showed empty. So we took her out of the big port on one engine, barely able to steer, and got her to the closest marina so we could have a look. Long story short the steering system is shot and needs to be replaced. In the process of tracking that down, we repaired a leaky fuel line and replaced one of the bilge pumps that was not working as it should. We are aware we bought a used boat, and that not everything is going to be perfect. We did however expect to be able to take her home without incident. Instead, it was 3 days later, and still without steering. We used opposing engine power to stay our course from Dubai down to Abu Dhabi. What can we say, stuff will need to be fixed, but we are nevertheless pretty happy with the purchase.

Taking the focus back to the A/C… This was the largest hurdle we had to overcome in order to be able to move forward with our plans. The Marine a/c system just can’t cut it alone. In fact both compressors shut themselves off and figuratively cross their arms, shake their heads, and quit around 9:30-10:00 each morning. However, once the sun goes behind the enormous trees just west of us, we can start them up again and they do a beautiful job until the next morning. One thing we completely blew by is the fact that our boat has significantly more glass, at substantially flatter angles than many of our friend’s boats. Ours is like a greenhouse! The result is that since our arrival, we have had to work to create as much of a barrier between our inside cabin and the sun as we can. Thankfully we are both adept at hillbilly engineering tactics. With the help of cardboard, the deck pads from our flybridge, a few random Styrofoam coolers, and copious amounts of duct tape, we succeeded in cutting back a portion of the heat.

In fact, the inside temp went from 118 down to 109. Progress! Next, we turned on the extractor fan over my oven, and opened a few smaller portholes to create some air flow. After that I recall walking in from the outside and thinking that the air was starting to cool. Then I glanced at the thermostat. It read 105. Seriously? Just shoot me now. Next we added towels and blankets as sort of makeshift ‘drapes’ and knocked off another 2 degrees. None of this makes it perfect, or even livable, but all of it creates less work for the a/c when it gets turned back on each afternoon. Meaning, the boat requires less and less time to be completely habitable once the a/c kicks back on.

After much debate back and forth, we decided to go ahead and make the move anyway. We spent a few days getting her cleaned and prepped for us to do that, then we made the leap. But first, we purchased a portable air conditioner to point directly at the bed so we could sleep… and spent our first night aboard on August 5. Larry went back to work on the 6^th. I spent the next week being gone between the hours of 10 and 6 every day, and Larry did likewise on his weekend in town. At night and in the early mornings, we worked on the boat. During the day we hung out at the club, saw a few movies, and just did whatever it took to stay busy during the heat of the day until the covers arrived.

Finally, she got her new covers installed. They are made with Sunbrella fabric and custom created for our windshield dimensions. It dropped our max inside temp down to 89. In the past I would have sought out a fainting couch and swooned while whining loudly, but at this point 89 at midday feels wonderful. Did you know that Sunbrella typically offers a 10 year warranty on their fabric? Except here.  Here in the Middle East the sun is so brutal that they cut that in half to 5 years. The manufacturer who created the covers drops it to 4. Coincidentally, that’s about how much longer we anticipate being here, so I am OK with it. As you can well see, the temperature drop on board was dramatic, though noon to 3 is still on the warm side. So taking a cue from one of my neighbors living aboard a sail boat, I bought some sail shades, and we hung them over the boat, adding shade over the windshields. That got us a few more degrees, and overnight temps down to mid 70s. YAY! Portable a/c is on the cockpit deck now, awaiting the new surround.

The window film guy comes today. He has promised us another significant drop in midday temps, and also indicated we could shut off one a/c overnight. I doubt it. The man doesn’t know me at all! I’ll grab a quilt before I turn off that a/c! But I am happy to take every decreased degree possible.

In terms of overall living the boat is quite comfortable.  Years ago I worked for a company based in Virginia and arranged to open a California office for them. The owner and I had an agreement that he changed without notice and long story short, I ended up living in a 300 sf apartment paid for by the company for a period of 6 months. It wasn’t a studio – the square footage was chopped up into separate living, sleeping and bathing rooms. I tell you this because it was really claustrophobic, and this boat feels so much more spacious than that was. In fact, I think the main saloon is about the same square footage, but it’s open and bright. If you add the space in the pontoons, I think our indoor living space is a right around 550sf. When the weather is nice our living space more than doubles, and we will have 3 separate defined common areas, and a very large uncovered sun deck.

Living like this requires some skills I have previously not really had. The primary of these being extreme organization. Everything must have a place, and everything must go back into its place once used. It doesn’t take much at all for the space to appear cluttered. I had a friend ask me how minimalist the living is. I struggled for a precise answer because it isn’t minimalist living to the extreme, at least not by my interpretation of the word. Yes you must pare down your belongings. You simply don’t have space for lots of peripheral stuff. No artwork or tchotchkes, so you need to pick a couple of favorites, and let the rest go. Same with clothing, the storage space is limited but pretty well planned out. You need to choose which things you actually use, and give away the rest. We will have a small storage room in the parking lot, very small. It will hold 2 of our suitcases, filled with things we seldom need like formal wear, and winter clothing. It will also hold our portable a/c unit over the winter. That will fill it up, and anything else is going to have to be onboard. We have no space for superfluous stuff. If I want a new pair of shoes, I have to get rid of one to make room. Same for a new shirt, pants etc. We have 3 hanging closets on each side. They are small, but hold a surprising amount of stuff. I have 2, Larry has 2, and we reserve the ones in the staterooms on the port side for guests. There are no drawers at all on this boat outside of the kitchen, which surprisingly, has plenty of storage for our needs. We do have several shallow cabinets with shelves, and also open shelving running through all staterooms. There is enough storage in the bathrooms for what is needed. On the starboard side, we have our master bed forward, as well as a dressing area and a clothes washer. We will probably turn the aft stateroom into something resembling a small closet with small, lightweight and movable chests of drawers, making the whole starboard pontoon the a sort of ‘suite’ giving us separate sinks and mirrors etc. Once it is all done I will post photos and a blog so that you can get a better visual of how this all works.

The Marina we are in is beautiful. If we look to the east, we see the city, and when we look to the west, we have a lovely well landscaped park-like setting. There are large trees, flowers, green grass and winding pathways. Parking is plentiful and close. Since we are literally next door the Presidential Palace, the security is extraordinary. There are more full timers living here than I originally thought. Our first dinner on board, our next door neighbor came over with a bottle of wine and welcomed us to the neighborhood. The pier we are on has 10-12 full time occupants, and several part timers (weekenders). Everybody is generous with advice and help. As I was working on the boat that first week, they all invited me to come take a break and sit in the air conditioning on their boats. With one exception, they are running mid 80s during the day as well. The one exception is the same next door neighbor who brought the wine. She and her husband live on the 58 foot Beneteau sailboat you can see just past us in this photo…..

They drape tarps over to tent it, and have 6 a/c compressors. 6!!! Their boat is chilly inside, maintaining 22-23 celsius, or 72-74 fahrenheit all day. We are almost there overnight now, but during the day… not yet. However the window film guy says when he is finished we will be close. I am keeping my fingers crossed.

At this point I have spent several full days on board, mostly tinkering with the storage and organizational issues, still trying to figure it all out. I do some reading, and have time and inclination to write again. It took a while. Being too hot makes me sluggish, and sleepy. I have been in that space a lot recently. I can say this though, we have learned a ton in the past 3 weeks. Living this life takes work. Boats require constant attention and upkeep. Tao 1 had one previous owner, who used her only occasionally. She is responding well to people cleaning her up and taking care of her. With each problem solved, 2 more seem to resolve themselves. She is a good boat, and a good choice as a liveaboard. That said, I think that by far the most important lesson we have learned so far is that I will not ever be here in August again. Ever. Life is good here, but in August it’s better somewhere else.