As David was preparing to leave the project in 2021, I ordered up a way to deal with her as a reasonable structure.
My work ladder had gotten siphoned off to some other place.
That is how it is around here. If you don’t bolt it down, it flies.
There are only so many of the sturdy stair ladders, with a balcony on the top, sized for eight feet up, and they do cost the marina about $1000 apiece.
Not everyone depends on the Marina for ladders. Some people bring their own.
My work slot neighbor that year had spent a blissful summer doing routine maintenance to a lovely sloop of about 28'. There was sanding away at the bottom coat, a bit of touchup on the topsides, and just a general go-over.
I wish I’d been there for that splash. There must have been a mystical hush in the air as she slid into the water and headed north. I can see the bridge going up and the vessel motoring up the Duwamish to wherever she is kept.
The owner was kind of stylish. I am betting he had moorage on Lake Union.
I was putzing about on my vessel that year, putting in a bit of time every now and then, but mostly I was conserving my strength for the healthcare job, while enjoying libations down at the bar. I don’t drink every day, but when I do, it is nice to make it an occasion.
South Park is near one of the friendliest strips in Seattle. It’s hard to resist the right watering hole after a long day of working on the boat.
Or planning to.
I think that boat neighbor even added a boot stripe, or is that my fond imagination?
At the end of it, he left behind some random bits, maybe some paint cans, maybe some bungees. There is often a bit of detritus at the end of a project.
One of the things that fell off the refit as it ended was a ladder. It was a plain aluminum telescoping ladder, about $100 on Craigslist, but there it was where the boat had been.
There was almost a boat-shaped shadow in the yard. That boat had been so happy. We all missed her.
After a few weeks, David said, “It looks like they’ve given you a ladder.”
I wouldn’t have done it, but builders are loosy goosy about building supplies. I know of a fella that built an entire house out of one board at a time that fell off the work site.
I know I’ve been known to have a cup of coffee on the boss at three in the morning, so I’m not going to judge, but that ladder ended up lashed to my boat — for a whole four months. Then it, too, was gone.
A couple of ladders have come and gone, and another boat neighbor and I did share a very nice stair ladder for some months.
And that, somehow, is across the yard.
The boats are brought in on big cranes, and things have to get moved around when they do, so I am not accusing anyone, but it is always with nervous curiosity that I pull up and inspect the situation of the ladder.
Here we are, a fine June day, it is sunny outside and warm for Seattle, and I have the best of intentions when I drive up. I am going to pump out the bilge, and study the situation of the cockpit drain. And what do you know.
No way to get on the boat.
I am so distressed I have to go think about it elsewhere.
