Life in paradise has its pitfalls, too!
ow much work really goes into it?
We’re often asked what we actually do all day on board. On the one hand, there are everyday chores like grocery shopping and doing laundry. That may sound simple, but it isn’t—and it can easily take half a day or even longer. Just getting the dinghy ready and making the trip ashore takes time. And often the supermarket is far from our mooring, so we have to figure out how to get there. There are definitely advantages to just hopping in the car and stopping at the nearest supermarket that carries a wide selection of items. On the other hand, we also spend a lot of time planning our next stops and activities, whether they’re hikes, kite lessons, or barbecues with other sailors.
In addition to all the excursions and hikes we go on, we also do a lot of work on the boat to keep it in good shape. Longer crossings take a heavy toll on the boat’s materials, and the saltwater environment isn’t exactly helpful either. At times, I felt haunted by the curse that something would break every single day. To prevent this, I try to maintain the boat as well as possible to ward off this curse.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been very busy—tinkering, sewing, and working up a sweat. In St. Kitts, we removed the holding tank from the aft portside toilet because it had been clogged for ages. With some difficulty, we managed to remove it and clean it out in the bay. I took my eyes off it for a moment, and the tank ended up in the water—and, naturally, I followed right after it… Luckily for the other boats, it was a cloudy afternoon, which otherwise wouldn’t have been ideal for swimming. Building on that success, we cleaned the forward holding tank a few days later as well, though this time without removing the entire tank. It was just as gross, though… Rummaging around in the tank with my arm wrapped in plastic up to my shoulder is definitely not on my list of favorite activities.
The front toilet pump was removed and reinstalled at least seven times because water kept leaking out. We cleaned it, replaced the gaskets, greased it, and put everything back together—over and over again. In the end, we had to install a new toilet pump after all, since we unfortunately discovered that water was seeping through the pump, which was completely rusted and beyond repair. Anyone familiar with these toilets knows there isn’t much room to work, and the temperature is hot while ventilation is poor. So, of course, the sweat was just pouring down. Thanks, Cyrille and Jan, for your help!
But there were also some more enjoyable tasks on board: All four winches were taken apart, cleaned, greased, and reassembled according to the instructions so that they no longer squeak. The kitchen shelf was re-glued, the refrigerator’s control panel was replaced because it had broken down, a new Bluetooth-enabled battery monitor was installed, and the mainsail had to be re-sewn at the top mast slider because it had torn. In Grenada, we then replaced the entire solar system so that we can produce enough electricity in the future. The old solar panels were removed, and the new ones—five 100-watt panels—were installed. Unfortunately, we still found that the batteries were already dead after just one year. Thanks to Mastervolt’s goodwill, we’ll now receive new ones under warranty. So, in addition to the solar panels, we should now have sufficient power sources with the wind generator and HydroCharger (water generator). The latter, however, has certainly cost me more than it’s been worth so far. During the Atlantic crossing, we lost the HydroCharger’s propeller; on the trip to St. Barth, we got caught in a fishing net, which bent the HydroCharger. It was re-bent and welded—but too much welding was done—and it broke during the next test run. As a result, we had to pay a hefty sum to have a new tube welded in Grenada. We’re curious to see what other “fun” this diva has in store for us.
In the end, the dinghy was patched up several times. We painstakingly removed the old adhesive, cleaned it, and re-glued it—only to find that it was still leaking. Unfortunately, this dinghy’s days are numbered because it’s just no fun having to inflate it for five minutes every time we use it, knowing that the air will be gone again in ten minutes. The search for a new one has already begun; however, prices start at over CHF 2,500. Sponsors are welcome. So if you’d like to get involved as a sponsor, you’ll receive beautiful photos, funny videos, and, of course, eternal gratitude in return (click here to support us).
This might sound like a lot of work—and in some ways, it is. On top of all the tasks listed, there are also minor repairs, cleaning, and maintenance. Since the salty air causes surface rust to form very quickly, you’re constantly reaching for a rag.
However, I really enjoy doing this work, and with every problem and every repair, I get to know my Yum Yum better. Plus, tackling the repairs is always a new challenge. We have quite a few tools on board—including a cutting disc, jigsaw, soldering iron, and much more—but the one tool you actually need is almost never there. Sometimes you have to get really creative to solve the problem. Even though it’s often nerve-wracking, I know—just like so many other round-the-world sailors before me—that it’s the best workplace in the world!
Despite this, we’ve unfortunately had to deal with some negative experiences as well.
On Bonaire, our two folding bikes were stolen overnight. Despite an intensive search and posting a missing property notice, they’re still with the wrong owner. To make matters worse, our dinghy’s outboard motor—including the gas can—was stolen in Curaçao. What a shock when we returned. Since we’re practically always at anchor, the dinghy is our connection to shore and absolutely essential. Actually, my plan was to replace the dinghy soon; but now the motor took priority, and I had to quickly find a replacement. Because while rowing against the wind and waves is good for fitness, it’s not so great in these temperatures and over longer distances. Thanks to the SY Limelight from Germany, which served as our water taxi on numerous occasions. In Aruba, nine days later, we finally purchased a new outboard motor. Despite an intense discussion with the insurance company—which considers theft to be a repair (!!)—they ultimately covered 76% of the costs. The ABC Islands were truly not kind to us in this regard, so we hoped that our string of thefts would come to an end in Colombia. Upon arriving in Colombia, however, both of our stern fenders were stolen on the very first day while we were on a shore excursion. That’s not exactly what you’d call hospitality…
But even in paradise, the sun doesn't always shine :)
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