Our Kill may not be killing, but merely strangling…

We’ve had engine starting problems, but only sometimes — Aside from the known problems with air in the fuel lines — Yep, problems, problems, problems, worse than a house.

Caro Babbo and Ranger 11 dinghy at Port Townsend Boat Haven waiting to sail home to Lake Union

Continue reading “Our Kill may not be killing, but merely strangling…”

Replacing Fuel Injectors

When we returned from our trip last fall, the engine had low power after we arrived at Port Ludlow, before we crossed Puget Sound through the canals and home.

I figured and, after speaking with our marina mate, Nate, decided that we had injector problem.

In late February of this year, I spoke with Rick at Seattle Injectors, the company that Nate suggested. They would have time to do our injectors the day after I dropped them off. Continue reading “Replacing Fuel Injectors”

Hemorrhaging money and getting back to Port Townsend

Today is the day we really start hemorrhaging money.

I ordered the copper coat: seven kits at $120 per kit are necessary to coat  CaroBabbo. It is a four-day process, however, this should be the last time I put a bottom on CaroBabbo. Continue reading “Hemorrhaging money and getting back to Port Townsend”

On Board on Lake Union

The journey from the Port Townsend house to Caro Babbo is two buses, then the ferry and a bus. Total cost in this direction: $5.75.

Door to door, it is about three and a half hours.

I was aboard last Wednesday on my way to Port Townsend from New York and nothing much had changed.

The purpose of being here this week is to get the boat ready to be moved to Boat Haven Marina in Port Townsend next week: Fixing the engine.

Continue reading “On Board on Lake Union”

We’re back in the PNW

We’re back in the Pacific Northwest. Well, at the moment, ‘we’ refers to Hilary and me.

Hilary, Jennifer and I spent from October 5th through January 7th in Phoenix working on a house Jennifer owns. It was a time to get fit as Jennifer and I worked 6 to 7 days a week from sun up until we needed to stop.

Some of the gravel I moved about

I got in shape by moving approximately 25 tons of gravel with a wheelbarrow and a shovel. It feels good to carry muscle again. The trick is how to keep it; I don’t belong to a gym anymore.

Continue reading “We’re back in the PNW”