The Waiting Game: Are We There Yet?

It's been a mostly dry ten months for us and Mulligan since she got struck by lightning in late June 2010 at Thunderbolt, GA. (By the way, the irony of the place name is not lost on us.)

June 2010: Mulligan comes out of the water for a bottom painting.

Steve and I dropped our wonderful boat off at Thunderbolt in early June for a bottom painting and some minor electrical repairs. She was back in the water and waiting for us two weeks later when, during a summer storm, a determined bolt chose to connect with Mother Earth (or at least with the Thunderbolt boatyard basin) via a spectacular and direct hit to the masthead of our relatively small vessel. ("Spectacular" was how witnesses described it. Steve and I were not there. We were in Chattanooga, packing our bags to go back and retrieve Mulligan, with her pristine new bottom paint.)  The strike occurred in a marina noteworthy for servicing super-sized motor and sailing yachts, the latter with masts much taller than Mulligan's. We could not believe it when we got the call that our boat had taken the hit.

Once we got used to the horrible idea, I thought, "Okay. So it will be a couple of months until we can sail her again."

It took until late November for the initial, intricate dance of insurance company and repair crew to play out. The repair crew did a test sail. Then, in early December, it was our turn. We've tested Mulligan twice more since then, each time finding something subtle but crucial that slipped through the cracks during the wholesale replacement of her systems.

Non-working engine fuel gauges and white smoke from our starboard engine have been the last bugaboos.

New gauges were due in on March 7. We got word on April 15 that they had finally arrived. Hard to believe it, but the gauges for our particular 4 year-old engines are no longer made. Technology evolves quickly, and I guess our repair crew finally found some older gauges sitting in a warehouse somewhere. (We are thankful for their diligence.)

And the white smoke? The first time we noticed it, we headed back to the boatyard from our test cruise on the Wilmington River near Thunderbolt and reported it. Mechanics did their check, and told us that it was probably just some moisture that had gathered in the fuel lines during Mulligan's many weeks on the hard or in the water undergoing repairs. (Poor baby!) The white smoke persisted, however, long after any random moisture should have dissipated. Mulligan has been in and out of the water since then in the checking on this. Nothing. Today we got a message that she may have to be hauled once more, because a restriction really has been found in the line to her starboard sail drive.

Steve and I are hoping we'll be able to dip our toes back into sailing her later this week, when we head back to Thunderbolt from Chattanooga. We've plotted, planned and saved for ten years. We've downsized. Retired. Learned to be a one-car couple after decades of the luxury of having one each. Scrapped schedules at least twice, initially due to the general economic meltdown and then due to the setback imposed by Mother Nature herself. (A few of our family and friends wonder if there is not a message there. We say there is not. It's just life.)

The downside of Mulligan's lightning striking? Obvious. Steve and I have had to delay our dream of adventuring together aboard our floating retirement home. Our insurance company will probably try to get rid of us ASAP. We've missed winters someplace warm and tropical. We're at least a couple of years older than we expected to be to begin our travels, and we are both kind of freaked out by how darn FAST time passes nowadays. Steve just turned 59. I just turned 58. (We've got to get out there and do it before it is too late!)

The upside? And there is always at least one upside to every dark, lighting-laced storm cloud. During our forced delay, we have weaned ourselves more painlessly away from:

1. The workaday world where we have spent the greater part of our marriage, and that's been a blessing for two once work-driven waifs like us.

2. For me, in particular, our cozy little family home in North Chattanooga. I love wherever I live. I will love life aboard Mulligan. But I love my little Chattanooga cottage, and have really enjoyed the exrtra time here, and visits back again as we waited out repairs.

3. Easily enjoying a few of the things we might have otherwise missed. Like spending time with our younger son, Dave, as he graduated from college and found his first job. Like helping our older son, Danny, and his wife, Sally, move into their very first house in Knoxville. Like being with family and friends in Memphis and on special travels that are as dear to me as my travels aboard Mulligan promise to be.

We have also had the chance to enjoy beautiful Savannah, GA and its surrounding areas in much more depth than we might have. It's become one of my favorite places anywhere.

There really is a reason for everything that happens. I know I will learn more about this important law of the universe as Steve and I really do set sail on a cruising life together aboard Mulligan. In more ways than we initially expected, she will be a "new" chapter for us.

More soon,

Kay (soon to be aboard S/V Mulligan once more)