Day 29

From Peter Ver Ploeg:

The diesel motor won't run reliably. I can get it going (with enough starter fluid) but, it dies soon after without constant attention. After hours pouring over the owners manual and cruising the online forums, I know a lot more about diesel engines but am no closer to fixing mine. My fingers are numb. My knuckles are bleeding. I've inhaled so many diesel fumes I now read at a fourth grade level and, as I crouch, shivering over that lifeless lump of metal, I'm reminded why I don't own a motorboat. After all, on a sailboat a motor is really more of a luxury than a necessity. Instead of trying to be a better mechanic, perhaps I should just concentrate on being a better sailor and forget the whole thing.

Yes, we are still in Maryland at my uncle's house. Saturday, we got four inches of snow. Yesterday was gorgeous, warm, and sunny.



We swept the snow off the boat so the sun could melt it clean, checked the ice the snow had formed on the river, (nice and soft and slushy) and spent a nice last day in Severna Park with everyone, sledding with my cousins and lunch out at an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet.
































As we drifted off to sleep on what was to be our last night in Severna Park, temperatures plunged into the teens. This morning, when we brought our things down to the pier, the boat sparkled silvery white under a thick layer of frost. The ice looked considerable more solid. I climbed down into the dinghy, and holding an oar like a tomahawk, gave the ice a good whack to test its thickness. The oar shattered. Tentatively, I stretched a rubber-booted leg over the side and pushed down. Nothing. No soft sagging, no cracking. I pushed harder. Still nothing. I pushed harder and harder, slowly and steadily and ever so carefully, until my whole weight was on that one foot. Then, I stood up and walked around.





The forecast calls for continued low temperatures so, Pete and I might be here imposing on my uncle's generosity a while longer. As Ben Franklin said, "fish and house guests stink after three days," and we've long since passed that mark. But, maybe when its this cold out that's not quite so true...at least not for fish. Thanks again Uncle Tom.

We'll check the ice again in a few hours and see if the afternoon sun has softened it up any, but for now, we're stuck.