Recently I checked my Facebook feed and noticed this memory.
The past 12 months have been phenomenal and so jam packed, it’s difficult to remember it all. When we tied up in Wilmington, NC, it was like coming home again. We chose this as our hailing port when we renamed the boat, as we have many happy memories from here.
Of course, after each extended stay in a port, we get antsy. We harbored here for little over four months, out of necessity. With the blessing of Rick’s physical therapist, we are moving on tomorrow (Monday). As happens anytime we settle in for a time, we got virtually nothing completed on our to-do list. In our defense, this time around the cause was Rick’s shoulder. It permeated every aspect of our life. We needed to be sure it was in as tip-top shape as it could prior to heading out. The therapist strongly suggested we wait longer than planned before losing a few therapy days to travel. Now, with her blessing, a new therapist in Portsmouth, VA, has been contacted and appointments made for next week.
There are certain things we always complete before traveling: checking fluids in the engine room, stocking up, securing TVs and the like for any bumpy weather, food prep for ease while traveling. This time around, Rick also washed all the windows so that we can cover them in salt spray tomorrow. Go figure.
We have a recent addition to the family with Banjo, our neurotic, exceptionally sweet, Yorkie mix rescue dog.
With that addition came a few new preps. We went through a fitting for a PFD at West Marine. (Incidentally, he adores wearing his PFD. He knows that means he can run loose on the decks.)
We also installed netting around the rails in case he lost footing while en route and he loves the freedom that allows him.
Lastly, we installed a puppy park on the bow of the boat for him to do his business.
OK, this hasn’t gone as well as we’d been led to believe. Prior to Banjo gracing us with his presence, I had to convince Rick a dog on a boat was a good idea. Since we were planning to anchor out for a large amount of time, the dog wouldn’t necessarily have access to land to complete his “duties,” if you know what I mean. During our travels, we met many, many liveaboards with dogs. They all said getting the dog to use the “poop deck” was a non-issue. Well, they were wrong. Or perhaps pulling a cruel joke on us. (I can hear the laughter echoing through the bowels of the boat as I write this.) I ordered very life like grass which Rick framed out in wood (more to be sure it didn’t blow away that for aesthetics). We hooked him to his leash and took him up there. Rick sprayed some crap designed to attract a puppy to pee on the spot. We gave the magic word (pee) we’d been working on since day one. Not only was he disinterested; he was repulsed. Honestly. A quick sniff, an incredulous look thrown in my direction, and he bolted back toward the front door. We didn’t walk him that day. He held everything. Eventually, after 15 hours, we blinked first and took him for a walk.
We threw out the bottle of pee incentive, washed the grass and tried again. People say you will do anything for your children. That is true. I think it’s also true for your pets. Look at the amount of money we spend on our pets. I’m not proud; but I was desperate. I did what had to be done (and what I’d read as a solution). The dixie cup of “fluid,” shall we say, was easy to procure, and we headed to the boat’s bow with the pup in tow (he follows us where ever we go). He eyed me from a distance as Rick poured the contents onto the grass. I snatched him up and set him firmly on the grass. Then we noticed it. The grass was peeing (at least something was). With the slight curve of the boat (for water run-off), the fluid went through the grass and was draining away and over the side. Banjo decided he’d had enough and jumped off the grass into the river of pee. Sigh. In essence I had peed on my dog’s feet. Rick hosed down again and I cleaned off the dog.
We noodled the issue for a few days and decided a pee pad under the grass would help with run off. We also felt the grass needed to smell either like another dog or himself. We mounted a two-pronged front. Our neighbor promised to get some of her dog’s pee on a pad for us and I started following Banjo around with a pad on our walks.
Think about that a moment. It’s the crack of dawn. I’m essentially still in my pajamas (albeit a pair of sweats and a t-shirt). Hair in a weirdly freakish ponytail and sleep in my eyes. I take the dog for a walk. We are currently on the very accessible Riverwalk. There are joggers, bikers, and folks heading to work on foot. There are also other dog walkers and I flash on the idea of asking if I can stick the pee pad under their dog, but immediately decide that just might land me in jail because it’s just too weird. No one asked but the sideways glances said it all. I was given a wide berth as I attempted time and again to capture some genuine Banjo urine. He did not make it easy. I started by staying away until he was in progress and then raced at him. He considered that frightening and would initiate the flight option in a fight or flight situation. Next, I tried standing closer than normal so I’d have better access. He eyed me suspiciously and had, I believe, performance anxiety.
After several days, I was successful, however, and we placed the pad on top of the grass. He was quite interested but did not contribute anything. The morning dew watered down the pad and we started all over again. Each time, he was intrigued, but non-committal in its use. We became convinced we needed a post or fire hydrant in the center as a lure. We scoured the pet shops and briefly considered a cat scratching post. Eventually, we wound up at Lowe’s Home Improvement and found some lawn art (an anchor welcome sign) that seemed heavy enough to stay put and tall enough for a dog with good leg extension.
As of this writing, he is still interested in the smells there, but has yet to use it to his advantage. Our neighbor has been unable to capture any dog piddle and we have decided for our journey to Virginia we will have to stop each night in a marina or city dock so our dog doesn’t explode. Our lives haven’t changed at all because of this dog. Really.
At any rate, those interested in the travel logistics probably would like to know this:
- Monday, October 9, 2017: depart at 7 a.m. reaching Swan Point Marina just past Jacksonville, NC. This sets us up to get through Camp Lejune the next day (you are required to call and get permission to pass through).
- Tuesday, October 10, 2017: depart at 6:30 a.m. to Whittaker Point Marina in Oriental, NC.
- Wednesday, October 11, 2017: leave at dawn to travel through Alligator River, stopping in Columbia, NC.
- Thursday, October 12, 2017: leaving at dawn and completing this leg at Ocean Yacht Marina in Portsmouth, VA, which will be our home for several months while we visit grandkids and steal labor from son, Christopher, to rewire some electrical issues.