First, the pause

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Then back to work!

Break time over, we returned to the task at hand. “Removal Day” had finally arrived! And it was a perfect day for it.

The captain and crew (i.e., yours truly) handled removal of the bimini and enclosure side windows.

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The caulk and adhesive were painstakingly removed last week, so it just took some muscle to remove the large chunk of flybridge deck/galley roof (the “soft patch”) and carefully set it aside on the empty dinghy cradle.

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The path is clear, now about that hole? That’s right, somehow that big ole engine’s gonna come right on up!

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The crane is here!

For stability, the crane arms extend, and it’s lifted off the wheels and leveled, before stretching out the very far-reaching boom.

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Oh boy, here we go! Twirly finger!

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HOLD IT! Let’s pause for a bit of important communication.

We have the twirly finger down well, but let’s make sure we agree on the others, especially the most important one – STOP! It’s about 3000 pounds, so no ooppsies! Everybody good? Alright, let’s continue!

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It was a long, emotional journey from May 13 to this, with a lot of stress eating! Captain gained about 10 pounds! So, we are definitely looking forward from here! The new engine is on the way, and diet plus Shoe Leather Express, here we come!

A very special thank you and shout out to the collaborative team from A&J Boat Works, East Coast Marine Services, Derek Lynds Custom Yacht Works, and A+Crane. They’re doing a phenomenal job!

Our beautiful ‘Mare is undergoing major surgery, akin to replacing her heart. But in this case, she isn’t getting someone else’s heart; she’s getting a brand new one! Uh-oh, we’ll have to gussy up the rest of the engine room so that shiny new engine doesn’t look out of place.

This week, the “open-heart surgery” began, albeit a bit backwards, not from the outside but the inside. We did as much as we could before the pros arrived, like remove everything – pots and pans, cabinetry and drawer items, soft goods, ceiling panels, TV, electronics, you name it.

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Wow, what craftmanship! One end of the peninsula is tightly fitted between two other fixed cabinets, and the other is simply and logically held down with screws to the deck. But this rascal is heavy! With some ingenuity and controlled muscle, the peninsula slid free, to be relocated safely out of the way by the saloon door.

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Next day and next up is the “soft patch,” as it’s called in boats. In our surgery simile, maybe this is the skin? Selene did an excellent job of planning for the unlikely, terrible event of removing the engine by building in a sort of “door” through the roof, or top deck, of the boat. They even branded it and made sure one knows in which direction to reinstall it!

But like our skin, it’s tough! The jack was used just to add some upward pressure as the “caulk/5200 adhesive” sealing it in place was cut with a saw. Whew, what a smelly and messy job!

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Took the better part of two days to get the soft patch free. Next step? Time to lift those heavy, sound-insulated floor panels and cross braces and carefully add them to the growing pile of boat “parts” at the far end of the room.

Now we have good access and light for the engine expert – just have to be careful moving around.

Despite all this progress, the peanut gallery outside is not particularly impressed.

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And we promise, this is the last of the tongue-in-cheek movie title references as headings. Perhaps. 🙂

It’s been more than two weeks since we shared anything about where we are, and folks are starting to inquire. We could fall back on, “Is this really happening?”, but that wouldn’t be very adult of us. So, now that we’ve had time to isolate ourselves and lick our wounds, here’s the upshot on our unexpected situation:

• The Good: We are safely docked in Stuart, Florida. (Thank you, Matt R. from Chubb if you’re reading this.)
• The Bad: The engine has to be replaced. (There was absolutely no warning, and it cannot be salvaged.)
• The Ugly: The process is complicated. (The engine must be lifted through the partially disassembled galley and out the top of the boat via crane.)

Between crying jags, there’s been plenty of time spent on the phone, via email, and in person, with mechanics, surveyors, yard managers, estimators, wood workers, fiberglass specialists, etc. I’m sure we are forgetting someone.

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When not engaged in exploring available options and needing time to mope each in our own way, lo and behold, we both distracted ourselves with mind-numbing, electronic “word” games (word games for goodness sake!?) for more hours than we care to count. Our grandchildren would be shocked to see us sitting in the same room with faces glued to screens for hours. (Or perhaps they would be pleased? Ha!) We’ve also occasionally ventured out for our sanity. Pizza. Bagels. Doughnuts. You know, fattening stateside comfort food.

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Oh, about that rental car in the photo at the end of our May 22 trying-to-maintain-optimism post? We had a flat and had to trade the car on Friday of Memorial Day weekend, when, as you can imagine, they had very few options. We ended up in this cute little guy. And we both fit! And we could carry a few days’ worth of groceries, barely. We did discover we could not unbuckle our seatbelts at the same time. 🙂

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Because life aboard the SaltyMare will simply not be allowed to remain enshrouded in negativity (have you met Susie?), here’s the affirming “all will be well” wrap-up: Journeys, like life, have their ups and downs, good times and bad times, etc. The challenges are called that for a reason. It’s these taxing situations that allow us to truly appreciate the good times. Otherwise, we wouldn’t value smooth sailing when it comes our way. Enough positive reinforcement yet? I’m starting to hear grandparents everywhere in a murmuring chorus of, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Or the ever popular, “This too shall pass.” I know. How about…. we just move on and get ‘er done.

Thanks, everyone, for being there!