Changes in weather. Changes in self.

It seemed that Fall came in just one day here in Oregon. On Thursday, the leaves fell, the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted to a chilly fifty degrees. Brett and I awoke early Sunday morning to a gentle rain caressing the roof of the cabin and the fields that surround us.

We are in Oregon. The rain has started.

I told Brett, "This rain will likely continue through April. I got up and put my robe on and made us a pot of coffee, listening to the softness of the rain as it smothers everything in a fresh newness.

As I drive through the wetness to work this morning, I listen to the DJ's proclaim a sunny afternoon. With a laugh, I turn up the speed on my windshield wipers to wipe away the increasing cloud of rain splashing against the glass.

At lunch, I scurried outside for a quick walk and was surprised to see the beautiful sun shining in the blue sky. The radio DJ's had been right! The crisp air made me shiver but the sun rays warmed my goose bumps. Fall is so beautiful in Oregon. The mountains turn red. The crows and squirrels forage in the grass for winter food. The smell of freshly dampened dirt fills my senses with an old familiarity that I hadn't experienced for two years.

We prepare for our two year anniversery this Friday from the day we left Oregon to set out on our adventure. We plan to celebrate our jump off the cliff to unknown. Maybe a sail on a rental boat at Fern Ridge? Maybe an overnight visit to our favorite marina, Winchester Bay? Perhaps we'll go visit the lovely town of Newport and walk the docks.

This last two weeks, I have focused on improving my life with improving my happiness through my attitude and thought processes. I feel good about my improvements. About my motivation to learn more positives and to think less negatives. To decrease my "stinking thinking" that I've learned in my book, "The Soft Addiction Solution: Break Free of the Seemingly Harmless Habits That Keep You from the Life You Want" by Judith Wright.

I took Brett's challenge and have stood in front of the mirror every day to announce myself a happy person. This can be hard to do when you don't believe it but the lesson is that you will believe it when you tell yourself for twenty eight days. You start to believe it and you start to live it.

Most days, I glance at myself in the rearview mirror of the car for my daily task. "I AM a happy person." I laugh, because, as I tell myself these things, I notice the lines and dark circles under my eyes. The thoughts of worry race through my mind as I look into my own eyes. But last night, I see my face brightened. Lighter. Prettier. Happier. It works. It really works.


Peace. Positive. Serenity. Simplicity. Happiness. Not surface, material happiness. Happiness within myself.

My uncle challenged me to write down 100 gratitudes. Wow. I sat Sunday morning with my coffee and fuzzy new robe and scribbled on the yellow pad. I made it to 47. I told Brett how hard it was. He said, "No. You could go to a thousand. " I sipped my strong coffee and rolled my eyes at him. As I shook my finger back and forth, I responded, "What? Like, I am so grateful for my... fingernail?"

He said, "Yes. That is the key. You learn to be grateful for every single thing in your life. Even the electricity that runs through the toaster you are grateful for that gives you toast that you are grateful for that is from the loaf of bread that you are grateful for that was bought with the money from the job you are grateful for." I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows at the interesting idea.

We talked about his vision of gratitude versus my own contemplation of deeper meanings to the gratitudes. It was interesting to join our two views on gratefullness.

I will save my 47 gratitudes and try again, soon. I will save my gratitudes and learn to remember them over my "stinking thinking" that I have come to learn about.

Thoughts today...

Worry. My plague. I worry. I worry a lot. I make myself sick with worry... My body churns and aches and I am drained. I cannot think or work or play or sleep when I worry.

What does this accomplish? Doesn't everything happen whether I worry about it or not? Does my worrying that makes me sick affect the future? No. It doesn't change anything. 95% of the time, the things I worry about don't amount to anything. It does nothing but diminish my health and my well-being in the present.

Positives to think about...
Live now. It is what it is. Make the most of now. Experience life. I will never be as beautiful as I am now.

I think about Brett's suggestions from his past counseling of standing in front of a mirror every day for twenty eight days and saying to MYSELF, "I am a happy person". To smile at myself. It will happen. I will be a happy person... I am a happy person.

Day 1: 9/12/08
I AM A HAPPY PERSON

Hurricane Ike threatening Palacios

Brett and I sit, helpless and anxious, in Oregon as we watch Hurricane Ike approaching our friends in Palacios. I heard from Rebecca and they are evacuating Palacios as well as much of the Gulf Coast in Texas. I talked to Truda at the park and they are calm but worried about the potential of this hurricane. There is an expected 14.5 foot tide surge to enter the bay, which covers the park/marina clear up to Main St.... This would be disastrous for the town and for our friends' boats as the floating docks would probably come off their piles with that high a surge......


My heart aches and I cry as I think about each person in Palacios that has become like family to Brett and I.


Our boat looks safe for the moment and we can only pray that if the hurricane veers East, that Keith will be there to take care of the boats...

My nerves are raw and I am a wreck. I've never felt this kind of anxiety before. The anxiety that hurricanes cause as I think about my friends evacuating their homes and leaving their boats to mother nature. As we leave our own boat in the hands of mother nature...

Brett went to the doctor yesterday and is going to have to make some changes. It is a blessing that we are here in Oregon where we know our doctors and he can concentrate on this lifestyle change before we head back down to the boat. He seems to have COPD. It is caused usually by smoking and damages the lungs...

Mama and baby deer in Rick's field on our porch...
We have been staying at Brett's old boss' place in a cabin on their property and it has been great. They have beautiful property and the cabin is perfect with a bathtub and everything! Well- Except we still need a stove. LOL But we have a microwave! We've been enjoying the solitude and the space of our own place. Brett has been helping them fix up the farm where we are at. I enjoy the commute to work every day. Hardly any traffic or lights. We drive slowly down a gravel road by a pasture every day and I talk to the cows and sheep as they lay under huge walnut trees, chewing their cud.





I have gotten a new (used) guitar to start learning again. It's a Fender Catalina. I have read excellent reviews about this acoustic guitar.

It is a very nice guitar and is doing wonderful. I am so excited to be able to play guitar and have been teaching myself every day. Even Brett, Ray and Debra (my aunt and uncle) played with it on our camping trip.

The camping trip was wonderful- The lush green forest of old growth and maples smelled wonderful. The water of the McKenzie river rushing by our campsite, crystal clear and cold as ice. We gazed at the stars, even seeing the Milky Way through the trees. We watched shooting stars together and pointed out the satellites as they soared through the dark sky. We hiked through trails and rode bikes down old roads. The time went fast but it was great. Brett did a lot of fly fishing and caught many fish. He even caught the largest fish he'd ever caught on the river! It was catch and release only, though, and he had to regretfully let the little guy wiggle out of his hands and back to the rushing water.

I put a bunch of pictures of our camping trip so my friends on the Gulf Coast can enjoy some of our beautiful home state just as my friends in Oregon enjoyed our lovely pictures of the Gulf Coast this last year...

Look! A tree hugger!

I will keep everyone in my prayers as we watch the hurricane...

Where are we, anyway?

We are in Oregon and getting back to the old grinds we were in before we left in 2006. Our friends and coworkers have been amazingly gracious as we invade their lives once again. Rick and Elaine have generously loaned us vehicles and even a place to stay during our time back in Oregon. My family has also helped out immensely as we struggle to get back on our feet.

It's been extremely difficult for us to adjust back to our old lives when we've lived as boat people for so long. Both of us are struggling to keep positive, trying to just focus on our overall goal to getting back to the boat in January. But we were welcomed back by our family and friends and it has been nice to be in our home state again.

We had driven almost 2700 miles in 2 1/2 days!! It was a fast and long commute but it was fun to see a different part of the country we'd not seen. We drove through Lousiana, Texas, up through Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah Idaho and then Oregon (did I miss any?)

Hurricane Gustav had both of us in knots as we prayed that our boat was tied well enough. Several scenarios had us on edge.

I forced Brett to explain to me in great detail the real worries of a hurricane with Benevolence. He reluctantly shared his concerns. If the high winds caused the wind generator's shunt to break, it could overcharge the batteries and cause a fire. Our mast and shrouds could entangle with the boats next to us. Our boat was literally squeezed into a slip in between two other boats. We had cushioned our boat with multiple fenders but it wouldn't stop the masts from entangling. Brett also explained in great detail about the likliehood of the water rising and causing the boat to swing forward into the dock and land.

I was also worried about our new friends in Cypremort on the Vermillion Bay in Lousiana. They were also in the path of this monster.

We had hastily left our phone number with a sailor we'd met during the night we'd packed everything into the rental. We were hoping he'd remembered us as the storm made a direct path for Lake Pontchartrain. But we had not heard from him and were not going to rely on him still being at the marina. The slight chance he'd be there was of little comfort.

For days, I felt sick and nervous. We talked about Brett flying down to New Orleans and being with our floating home during the storm. I made arrangements to pay for the high priced airline ticket if need be.

On Saturday, we awoke and sat in our chairs watching the weather channel with Grandma. The hurricane had been almost a category 5 when it hit Cuba, the highest category for a hurricane. It only fell 5mph short... I teared up as I watched the path veer toward Lake Pontchartrain. I contemplated the possibility of the hurricane surpassing category 5 as it made its way over the warm water of the Gulf....

We tried to continue our day without worrying. Brett and Nathan went fishing and I spent the day with Shannon. We went to the Saturday Market and picked grandma up some flowers and Shannon some soap. When we returned to grandma's house, I grabbed the cell phone I'd left charging on my bookcase and checked for voicemails.

My mouth dropped open as I listened to the strange new voice on the voicemail. "Yes, this is Keith Hobbs. I met you at the marina when you left and told you I'd watch your boat. I'd like to tie up some more lines and let you know that I would be here to ride out the storm on my own boat. Please call me."

I called him back and we talked about what he might do to prepare for the hurricane. He said our boat looked tied well, that he just wanted to add a line to the stern, across the marina to the center dock to help keep her off our dock. I asked him to tie off the wind generator and I'd have Brett call him that night so they could talk. I thanked him over and over. I hung up and cried, thanking God that he'd sent us our guardian angel for the boat.

I spent the day nervously waiting for Brett to get back from fishing so I could tell him the news.

When he got back, he called Keith and they discussed keys and lines and the generator, etc. Keith was moving his boat to the middle of the marina to give it space to rock back and forth.

Sunday, we sat and stared at the tv as the hurricane made its way toward Louisiana. It had downgraded to a category 3 but was expected to speed back up. We spent the day trying not to think about it.

On Monday morning I struggled to open the internet. It turned on just long enough to let us see that Gustav hit as a category 2. It had actually diminished! I looked up Mandeville's weather to see what had happened and it didn't look too bad. The storm had veered just West of us.

Later, Keith called and I talked to him. He said everyone had fared well at the marina. They did have quite a surge, the water about two feet over the street which was another few feet above the docks. He said they had between 75-80 mph winds but everything survived well. He praised Brett's job on tying our boat. They had used our dinghy to move around boats to the middle of the marina. They ended up moving the boat next to us so we had no boats next to us during the storm and were free from masts and shrouds. I tried to convey our appreciation to Keith again before we hung up.

I cried again, overwhelmed by the stress of the last few days.

The boat made it in better shape than I did through the hurricane.

Houma to Lake Pontchartrain

I am really behind in the blog. I tried to post more pictures but blogger quit working for me. So I will download more (of New Orleans, etc) next time I can...

We spent three days in Houma, receiving care packages in the mail and riding my bike around town. I found a Michaels Craft store even. The night before we left, some kids had untied two motorboats from the city docks we were at (one on either side of us) and they almost drifted into the busy Intercoastal waterway. Luckily we had not been untied as our lines were jumbled into a complicated state of knots.

After Houma, we headed to a store along a canal, 15 miles west of the famous Harvey Locks in New Orleans. we found the store closed and traveled 9 more miles South down a Bayou to stay at a busy powerboat marina called C&M FuelDock.

As we had headed down the bayou, we kept coasting by water hyacinth. Brett started calling it "salad". Then we started smelling different smells so I called it "smelly salad".

The next day, we left early and headed for the dreaded Harvey Locks. We had heard story after story of these locks as well as the Industrial Locks. We had two huge locks and thirteen bridges to tackle before heading into Lake Pontchartrain. We had noticed that our altenator was still not charging. Something else was wrong with it other than the cable...

The Harvey Locks ended up being a breeze. We were locked by ourselves and held onto lines as the current rose (dropped?) several feet. Then we headed out into the Mississippi River. It was beautiful, hot and calm for the river. It was even a pretty green color instead of the famous Mississippi Mud color. We made our way smoothly down the huge river, listening to the traffic controller notify huge foreign ships of our location. We watched all the small work boats and huge tug boats trying to clean up the oil from the collision the weak before between a barge and a tanker.

We found the Industrial Locks and ended up with a two hour wait, figure eighting in front of the locks in the river.

We locked with a towboat/barge. It was harder to control the boat with the lines they had thrown to us, being behind the barge but all went well and we soon scooted out of the locks, approaching our next several bridges. We passed under one bridge that was up that I didn't call which was an OOPS but all the other bridges went smoothly. We had a short wait at a railway bridge but soon, we got through it too. One of the operators had thought I said we had a 50 foot clearance so they almost didn't open a bridge for us but it got straigtened out that we were actually 6o foot and they had the bridge opened. We shot out into Lake Pontchartrain and headed for the Municipal Yacht Harbor.

I had a few tears and we cussed and hollered at each other a little over the stressful day but after entering the lake, we apologized to each other. Lake Pontchartrain was like glass as we glided toward the marinas.

We started to smell another odd smell. Then we saw huge gobs of green float through the water. We started to panic, thinking it was some sort of chemical spill but we soon thought it started looking like a type of algae. We also thought we saw objects surfacing the crest of the slight swells. I watched for a long time in the binocculars but couldn't identify what it was we were seeing.

We pulled into the Municipal Yacht Harbor. It looked tattered but there were hundreds of boats moored. We pulled up to the Harbor Master office in the back but they looked closed. We made our way to the New Orleans Yacht Club just next door in the same building. They opened their door, looking at us skeptically. We asked about the harbormaster. They laughed and said that there was no harbormaster. The marina hadn't been functional since the hurricane. There was no power or water anywhere except a small area next to the yacht club. After surveying our boat and asking us what yacht club we were with, they swept us into their beautiful and air conditioned clubhouse. They offered us drinks. Brett politely refused and they asked him if he really was a sailor. We laughed it off and accepted some lemonade from their full wetbar. They gave us pizza and offered to let us tie up to their tiny finger next to the ramp to use an outlet to cool off the boat for the night. We visited awhile and then moved the boat to the small finger. Later the security officer told us we hadn't asked the right people of the yacht club to tie up there. To keep the peace, we moved our boat to one of the slips without power and water and spent a very uncomfortable evening, without dinner, arguing over our situation.

AFTER HURRICANE KATRINA...

The day after that stressful yet successful day, we felt a ton better with some sleep. We had gotten up late and knew we'd have to stay another day. Our altenator was still not working either so our batteries were quickly depleting. We decided to spend a few days there after setting up the boat to scoop wind to inside the cabin. We found a shop to rebuild our altenator and a small store down the way to look up email. A grocery store was down even farther and I was able to pick up food and beverages. We also met the owner of the Moorings 43 next to us. Him and his son were very nice and even gave us a cooler full of ice from their watermaker.

We found a sail loft and asked the sailmaker about our sails. He filled us with excellent information on our sails. It was great to hear so much information from an expert.

Later, we discovered a Tropical Storm was very near us. Tropical Storm Edouard was to hit directly in Galveston, possibly becoming a hurricane before it hit. The strong winds and rain would reach as far East as Houma, where we had left just a few days before. We had narrowly missed another nasty storm. We truly felt blessed. We did get some rain but not much wind.

One night, we had some ducks come up to us so Brett started feeding them, as we did with the four ducks at Serendipity sometimes. All of a sudden, flocks of ducks started swimming toward us, even from across the marina! We laughed hysterically has I counted around fifty ducks and more coming. Benny had a great time with them..

See if you can find the ONE male duck in this picture... (See Dennis, your four ducks aren't so bad. LOL)

We also decided to make our way to the French Quarter on the bus. After failing to catch it the first time in the evening, we agreed that we'd stay one more day and go visit the French Quarter of New Orleans the next morning. I had been very bummed to have missed the last bus there and Brett knew I was bummed. He wanted me to see the French Quarter while we were in New Orleans. So we got up and slowly made our way to the bus stop that we'd found the previous evening. The bus driver filled us with info as she sped her way to the "cemetaries". At the cemeteries, she dropped us off and we ran for the street car, marveling at the massive tombs surrounding us on all four sides of the intersection!

We spent another forty minutes on the street car as it filled up with locals and tourists toward Bourbon Street. An older couple let us know when we got there and we piled out with many others. We started walking down the famous street. Immediately our noses were filled with a nasty garbage/sewer smell, like alcoholic sweat. Bars with tropical flavors lined the street. We found ourselves walking past X-rated posters that covered entrances to sex stores and dance halls. It was shocking.

The buildings were very cool- Old and each one was decorated with old wrought iron balconies, covered in ferns and flowers. There were souviener shops stuffed with colorful feather boas, thousands of plastic bead necklaces and fancy feathered masks.

We actually bumped into a True Value Hardware on Bourbon Street and made our way inside the familiar place. We had been searching for the street that Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville Cafe. They directed us to Decature Street to find it. After quickly forgetting her directions, I popped into a coffee house and they repeated the directions. I started noticing that the Lousiana accent threw more of a Brooklyn sound than Southern. It was very interesting.
We finally found the cafe and happily bounced in. It was very cool and we got a seat immediately. Brett forced me to get a margarita (my first) since we were at Margaritaville Cafe. Then he ordered a Cajun Burger which had all kinds of interesting things in it (Crawfish, Hamburger, etc). I ordered - of course- Cheeseburger In Paradise. It was great fun. Since we paid only $3.00 for our bus ride, we used the $40 it would have cost for a cab on lunch. The food was ok but the experience was memorable.

We parused shops after lunch, gazing at artwork and staring at the Mississippi River along Decature. We headed down a different street and strolled by dozens of expensive antique stores and jewelry boutiques.

We soon meandered back to Bourbon Street to find those trinket shops we'd passed so I could buy some post cards. Then we headed back to Canal Street to catch the streetcar back to the bus. We hopped on and watched the streetcar, again, fill with all different walks of life. We were surprised to find mostly locals hopping on and off the old streetcar. At the cemetery, we hurried acrossed the highway toward the bus station where others were migrating to. We found our bus still waiting and were able to catch it. I managed to snap a couple shots of the famous New Orleans cemeteries.

We headed back to the boat and found it actually cooler inside than outside. We both collapsed on our bunks and heated the boat up with our hot, sweaty bodies while we slept. After our naps, we sat in the cockpit and started noticing boats heading out of the marina. The raceboat acrossed from us had been working on their halyards. It was called Turkey Wings. Brett loved it. Soon they, too, joined the traffic headed out into the lake. It was Wednesday night and the yacht club was having a regatta. Dozens of boats from twelve feet to forty feet headed out. Black carbon fiber sails, yellow Kevlar sails and plain old dacron sails were unfurled or raised. Some boats sailed out of the harbor while others motored. It was an amazing scene. There were dozens of boats actually being used in this graveyard. It was like ghosts coming up out of their graves to go race. Young racers and older sailors piled onto their boats to join in the fun. We sat and pouted in the cockpit. Brett was dying to go out on a boat like Turkey Wings to race around yellow buoys. But we had chosen the cruising life for our boat which had it's own rewards.

We headed to the store to show the girls my jewelry they had wanted to see. We spent an enjoyable hour with them as they oohed and awed over my pieces. It was really fun to see people enjoy my jewelry again. They made several purchases and then Brett and I checked our email and headed back to the boat in the dark. There was a huge volleyball court on the way to the marina so we had to dodge dozens of cars at the busy volleyball courts.

We were talking about our plans for the next day. I suggested we try to start the engine to try and charge the batteries so we could watch a movie. I pushed the start button and it refused to start. I tried it again. Brett had me switch the Perko switch to all and I tried again. The batteries had drained too low to start the engine. Brett cussed (which he doesn't do often). We turned everything off, lit a candle and sat in the cockpit, arranging to buy gas in the morning for the generator we hadn't used yet. After a half hour, Brett tried again and the engine started! So we let it run for an hour to charge the battery so we could leave in the morning. We went to bed without a movie. We read magazines instead.

The next day we headed out. We planned a long, 40 mile day to Rabbit Island to anchor where some friends of our had anchored on their trip. We slowly motored over to the fuel docks before leaving into the Lake. After filling our water tank and buying diesel, we headed out into the lake. I was below organizing and writing in our logbook when the boat lurched. Then it rolled and bucked. I looked at Brett, and lipped to him "What the HELL?"

I swung myself out of the companionway as the boat swung to port. I looked out to see huge swells and we were rolling right in their trough. I scrambled back down inside and scurried around to put things away. Benny crawled along the floor, meowing at the sudden violent change of his floating home. Jack shrieked at every roll. The three of us had not prepared for such rough weather. I looked out into the cockpit and swore I saw Brett smiling as he steered Benevolence through the monstrosity.

In actuality, they were only two footers but they were short which made them very frequent and uncomfortable. We were also right in their "trough" on our heading, the most uncomfortable position possible. Throwing up the sails went out the window as we motored through the rough water.

I started to get sick but was able to down my ginger pill (thank you Sue. Thank YOU) and put my armbands on. I swigged some Diet Coke and was able to fight off the urge to get sick. I asked Brett if I could drive awhile. It helped to have a task and watch ahead. As I drove, I watched the waves and tried to stop thinking about my queezy stomach. I do a lot of self talk when we are underway in uncomfortable situations and this time I told myself to enjoy the chop and the sun beating down on us with the breeze at our portside. It was a beautiful day. This chop we were experiencing was only a taste of a calm day on the Gulf.

With my navigation and Brett's skilled steering, we were soon almost to the two bridges we had to cross to get to the Rigolets (a body of water between Lake Pontchartrain and the Intercoastal Waterway) Rabbit Island was on the other end of the Rigolets, another twenty or so miles. The waves had gotten smaller as we headed North of the lake. Brett called it the "Fetch" and it got smaller the more you headed toward the land where the wind was coming from. Less water for it to get built up I guess. We watched Benny has he wandered around and then flopped on the floor in different spots, trying to get comfortable. He had already thrown up from seasickness. He finally found himself a spot inside his cubbyhole by the litter box. Jack was squaking at every roll.

Brett suggested that we stay at the marina I had written off because they wanted a credit card number on the phone. I humbled myself and called the marina. It was between the two bridges we had to go through so it was very close. It had all the facilites we could want (laundry, internet, power, water. Power.)

They were glad to have us and after we crossed the bridges, made our way to the marina. We had had a rough time waiting on two bridges to correlate together but got through ok. Brett had circled the boat several times in front of the bridges as the waves and wind tried to blow us into them.

We found our assigned slip tied the boat loosely with a couple of lines. It was a very nice marina with locked gates at each dock. Everything was very nice.

We paid our pricey $1.25/foot and made our way back to the boat. The marina was definitely much more worth the money than Freeport had been. The stop was definitely a brilliant idea. We were both very tired and it was so nice to have power after days at the Municipal Yacht Harbor with no power and almost no batteries even. I told him over and over all evening about what a great idea it was to pull into this marina for the night.

We walked to the restaurant and ate a wondeful dinner at the Marina Cafe. When we got back, it was just getting dark. We decided to go take a look at the pool. As Brett was coming out of the boat, we noticed the clouds bundling up together in a dark mass and lightening off in the distance. "Ooh- That doesn't look good. We'll need to resecure the boat before we head off to bead" Brett stated.

We walked out our gate and headed down the path to the pool. In about five minutes, we felt it. The wind. It hit us like a cement wall. It was an old familiar wind- A Northerly! In August?? We scrambled back to the boat as the wind started howling and sand started filling the air and our eyes. By the time we had gotten to our boat (about two minutes), it had been shoved forward into the dock and was being pinned in the corner of our huge slip. The docks were several feet over our boat and very difficult to get on and off. We scrambled around and around trying to tighten lines to get the boat off the dock. It was blowing about thirty to forty knots . Brett found the winch handle and winched the boat off the dock as I pushed the bow pulpit with my feet. We threw lines around pilings and managed to finally get the boat off the dock. We scrambled to retie the dinghy, Knot Yacht, as it bashed into the windvane. We both felt incredibly stupid for not securing the boat better earlier and for not checking the weather report that morning. We watched the storm go over us, an amazing light show from the lightening. We were extremely thankful that we had stopped at the marina. If we had anchored out at Rabbit Island like we'd planned, it could have been bad. Uncomfortable anyway. We thanks our guardian angel once again for veering us to this marina.

The next morning we got up late. It was the best sleep that Brett had had in days. We finally made our way to the office to see about staying a week with all the bad weather coming up. It was a lot of money for us to stay the week. I paid for one night and we went back to the boat to discuss more options. We met our neighbor on his Talayna 37 and had a great talk with him. He was very nice.

CHANGE IN PLANS...

We've decided to safely tie the boat in a marina and drive back to Oregon with the animals for six months. I called dozens of marinas from Louisiana to Gulfport and they were either closed from hurricane damage or had waiting lists. We wanted to stay at the harbor we're in now but they require insurance. We've had trouble getting insurance since our boat is so old... We need a haulout survey which costs several hundred dollars first. So I finally found a marina we'll be able to tie the boat at...

We will work to pay off some bills and build up our cruising kitty. We need to make improvements on the boat before we head offshore and I would feel better if we had a bit of a "kitty" to cruise on. Although we've found places to stay for a few nights at a time, we have also found that the hurricane damage has diminished the amount of marinas along the Louisiana, Mississippi coast for us to hole up in during the next two months of hurricane season.We've also had to make the heart-wrenching decision to find our beloved animals homes while we are cruising. The constant worry for their happiness and comfort is overwhelming and consumes most of our time and energy.

We will be flying back to the boat in January and do a lot of work on her for two months before heading toward South in March. March is a great time for winds and current to head toward Mexico.As this new branch of our adventure grows, I will continue our blog. A lot of cruisers who have to work along the way find themselves reorganizing so they can cruise. Since we have to wait until after hurricane season anyway, this seemed like the best way for us to build our kitty, visit our families, tie up the last of our loose ends and get the boat ready for offshore next Spring.

Thank you for continuing to share our adventure.Please keep in touch, keep us in your prayers and stay tuned for more...

more updates in addition to yesterday

Brett discovered that the battery cable had unattached itself from the altenator. We were relieved to find the altenator was not damaged. He quickly reattached the cable. The belt was also loose so he ran to the auto parts store and got a new belt that fit perfectly. It was nice to have such an inexpensive repair once again.

We got the rest of our mail already yesterday so we'll be heading out tomorrow morning. To our greatest surprise, Brett received his passport! It had arrived to Serendipity after we left so it was forwarded to our Post Office box. Then Mom, called us and let us know there was an official envelope for Brett in the mail. So we had her open it and it was his passport!! So we had her mail it to us. We had run into snags with the passport and had given up on the idea but now we both have our passports in our hand and our world of cruising has opened up a lot for us. We are actually anxious to cruise South and around the canal and back up to Oregon.

I rode my bike to Walmart today. It was raining and a very long ride. The traffic here in Houma is thick and there are no margins or bike paths. Not even cross walk signs! So it was pretty hairy riding in the rain to the stores. When I approached Walmart, I noticed Michaels across the street. So I HAD to make a pit stop to the store I'd been dying to visit for a month now. It was an answer to prayer really. I had discovered my clay I had was too hard for me to condition so I was able to pick up the softer clay as well as some more jewelry supplies.

I spent four hours out on the town. I found Brett standing at the edge of the docks waiting for me anxiously to get home.

Then we walked here to the Coffee Zone for more great coffee and a sandwich.

Pictures, First then Blog

This one is long guys. Sorry. I do hope you enjoy our adventure with us, though…

I didn't have time to arrange pictures with the blog. It takes hours to do that and I am overextending my time here at the coffee shop. The pictures are newest down to oldest.

DAY 10 BOW TIE MARINA TO BAYOU LACCISSINE…TALENS FUEL DOCK
We got up very early to leave Bow Tie Marina. We had a long haul that day and wanted t start out early so we could catch the times the bridges would open for us. We made good time. We had a long delay at the locks but we got right through the bridges. We had made it there two hours sooner than Brett thought we would. He thought we were twenty miles from the locks at Bow Tie, but we ended up only being about twelve.
I radioed to the traffic we approached around corners all day. At one point, a towboat captain got on the radio after I’d announced us.

“ I SSSUUWWRRR do LAAAWWWKK the way she tawks!” the captain exclaimed in a deep, hoarse Southern’ accent.

Brett and I laughed and laughed. I couldn’t think of anything clever to respond with.
Later, I was below organizing cabinets and we started around a bend. A barge peered around the corner. I quickly announced us and then Brett glided us to starboard. It was a very narrow corner. We soon slid to a gentle stop as the keel made its way into the Louisiana mud below us. The barge passed and Brett slipped out of the mud as fast as he’d slipped into it. We felt bad that we’d not announced ourselves to the towboat captain earlier. They have huge loads and cannot stop or turn on a dime to get out of our way. So we got out of theirs.

During my time on the radio, I have gotten to learn a lot about barge traffic. I’ve gotten to know what a “six pack” is and “passin’ on the one, cap’n” means. It’s been like learning a new language, both in radio talk terms and their thick, Cajun accents. Every one of them has been polite and courteous to us.

We continued down the waterway, watching storms build around us. It rained off and on throughout the day but we didn’t have the winds yet that were expected from the hurricane West of us.

I took my turn steering and Brett sat forward on the deck watching the scenery pass by. I looked ahead of us and noticed a sailboat coming around the bend up ahead! It was sailing and it looked like a catamaran to me. “Brett! A sailboat! Take pictures” I yelled to him.
He took pictures of the beautiful sailboat coasting by us. The captain on the vessel waved and stared at our stern. Then he turned to his first mate and pointed at us. He went below and within a few seconds we heard him calling us on the radio. Brett talked to him. They were on their way to Palacios. Brett said, “Serendipity?”

They said, yes. They were the catamaran that Dennis and Truda had been waiting for. So we didn’t miss seeing it after all. It was funny. Very small world.

The wind picked up slightly and we had clouds building around us. We reached the Bayou we were to anchor in for the night. Brett slowly approached the East entrance as per the book said to do. The water quickly dropped and we soon found ourselves hitting bottom before we got twenty feet into the bayou. Brett skillfully veered us out of the soft mud and back into the waterway. We tried again at several spots but it was too shallow for our 5’8” draft…
We had already traveled for hours and there was nothing better until Shell Morgan Landing at Intracoastal Waterway. We’d get there way after dark. We were worried to anchor in the upcoming river. I steered while Brett searched for options. A few miles beyond the bayou, was a fuel dock that had been closed to cruisers twelve years earlier. As we approached them at dusk, Brett called them.

“Do you have a place we could possibly tie up for the night?” he asked.

They found us a spot to tie next to steel barge for the night. We thanked them profusely and made our way into the docks toward the steel barge. The anchor scraped the side of the barge slightly as Brett parked our boat next to the heavy chunk of metal. He took the dinghy over to the office to pay them for letting us tie up. They refused money, but we had to be aware that a towboat might pick up the barge we were tied to in the middle of the night. So we had to keep channel 10 on to listen for traffic. We spent the restless night safely tied at the fuel dock. It was good to have a safe place to be in case those 20-25 knot winds hit.

DAY 11: TALENS FUEL DOCK TO SHELL MORGAN LANDING
The next morning, it drizzled but there was little wind. We made our way to Shell Morgan Landing. The Leland Bowman locks were ahead and looked busy on the chart. There was a lot of industrial happenings just West of the locks.
With blustery, rainy weather, we made it to the locks and ended up behind two barges and a small towboat, waiting to gather in the locks. We had passed at least a dozen other barges, parked along the waterway near the locks.

With the rain pouring, we called the locks and announced our approached. They had us line up behind the small towboat, Miss B. The two larger barges slowly made their way into the lock and tied up. Then, the small towboat crammed itself up next to the two barges. We had gotten a red light so I called the lockmaster to see if they wanted us to go behind Miss B. The lockmaster was very grumpy and there was a lot of miscoummunication between everyone on the radio. The west side of the locks was stacking up with barges as the lockmaster tried to even everyone out on our side.

The lockmaster replied to us to stand by, that the Miss B was NOT supposed to charge up into the locks like they did. We could have fit behind the Miss B but they had us wait as the locks closed. Brett had to steer the boat in figure eights as the wind howled around us. We were in idle and there were no sails up but the boat continued to creep forward. The rain started pouring. As we sat and waited, I grabbed Brett’s coat. I prepared our fenders and lines as it looked like the lockmaster might have us tie up. Brett hollered at me to get back below . The winds had gotten pretty blustery and he didn’t want me on deck. So we sat for an hour, waiting for the locks to open. The West side of the locks continued to complain about having to wait for us to go first after these barges went. I couldn’t believe they were complaining about waiting as Brett struggled to keep the boat near the locks in pouring down rain.

Finally they got us through. As we left the locks, we spun in and out of barge traffic. The whole thing had been extremely stressful for me. We finally came upon Shell Morgan landing. The guy helped us get diesel and water. We maneuvered the boat across the way to the transient slips after buying charts for New Orleans. The store was closed for the week and the other store was two miles away. So we had pancakes for dinner.

We spent the evening studying the charts, planning our next destination. We could make an anchorage another forty miles away. The waterway guide mentioned Cypremort Point where there were a variety of marinas and stores. This was on the other side of the Vermillion Bay. There was a cutoff near us that we could take to get into the bay. Then we could sail all the way across the eighteen miles. With the storms hitting us, we weren’t sure what we should do. The marinas sounded like a good place to stop and try to work on the transmission.

DAY 12: SHELL MORGAN LANDING TO CYPREMORT POINT
DAY 13, 14 AT THE CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB
We were awoken by extremely loud engines and lots of wake rolling us out of our berths. I peeked out the window and Brett scrambled out of the companionway. The boat we’d parked right in front of charged out of the dock. It looked like a gas station on an Interstate with workboats motoring in and out of the fuel dock, just a few feet from our slip.
Brett went to talk to the dockmaster about the cut and getting charts to the Bay. The weather had cleared up. It was hot and sunny and calm again. We made our way to the four mile cut to the bay. My hopes of sailing for the day were crushed as the wind continued to blow right on our nose.

I scrambled up and down the companionway, plotting our course on the chart every few minutes with the GPS. I navigated us using the GPS and the compass with the chart. Brett was sceptacle as we turned toward the point, off the channel. We approached an oil rig and he decided to head Northwest instead of West. I continued to question our course with the course on the chart. The tides kept pushing us North, too. Finally, I plotted us near the next channel and found us way North of where we needed to be. I had Brett go below to confirm. He came up and had me turn the boat almost 45 degrees. We were close but had drifted a ways north with the tides. We could not see land and only had our tools to get us there. The wind had picked up to about 5-10 knots. It was a perfect breeze to keep us cool.

I reveled in my navigation skills and teased him about questioning my bearings. Soon, we could see the point. As we passed marker 12, a small stick for a marker lay dead ahead. We had been watching for a shipwreck somewhere in our vicinity and, with only eight feet of water, I was on the sharp lookout for it. I hollered at Brett to swing the boat “hard to port”. (More like, I frantically waved my finger to the left and screamed “Go over there, move the boat over there!”)

We missed the small marker. I looked back as Brett said, “uh oh”.
As he swung the rudder, we lost steering. He dropped the boat into idle. I checked our depth and we had plenty of water around us. He quickly unloaded the lazarette (rear locker) so he could inspect the steering cables. A mound of lines, lifejackets, heavy tool bags and spare parts were soon scattered around the cockpit. As he called out for a flashlight and tools, I scrambled up and down the companionway to fetch them. I started to pack the gear into the boat to get them out of the way. He took a look and unhooked the steering wheel cable. Then he took our boat hook and jabbed it into the emergency tiller box. He started the engine and off we went, steering our thirty seven foot home with a boat hook. I looked at the remaining junk in the cockpit and quickly started packing it below. I didn’t want to enter a nice marina with crap everywhere. I couldn’t believe all the stuff we kept in the lazarette.

We made our way toward the point. We had difficulty finding the entrance as we watched small Sunfish sailboats playing ahead of us. Finally, a small sailboat approached and we asked them directions into the marina. They directed us near the restaurant and asked us if we were part of an association. Brett said yes and they offered their yacht club facilities. But after asking us our length, they said we were too long. We made our way to the small channel and toward the Baypoint Marina that the waterway guide had recommended. There was no indication of transient slips anywhere. Brett steered our boat, boat hook in hand, through the docks but couldn’t find a spot to land. Then we were directed back to the front at the yacht club.
They all introduced themselves. Barry, the ex-pro sailboat racer who owned the little sailboat, Butch, the sudo-commodore lawyer and Chip, the doctor. The friendly men asked us if we needed anything and bent over backward to make us welcome at the yacht club. They told us that the Bayview Marina was a private marina, that there were no public facilities at the point other than the small fuel dock at the restaurant. We explained to them what the Waterway guide had claimed. They told us that Bayview marina definitely had no transient slips for overnighters. It would have been disastrous if these nice men hadn’t let us stay at their yacht club docks. We were several miles from anywhere and it was getting late in the day.
We spent three days at the lovely yacht club, enjoying the company of other sailors. Everyone was extremely generous to us. We had a couple, Tam and Beth, offer to run our errands for us on the mainland. They also lent us the Skipper Bob books we needed and gave us loads of magazines. We couldn’t believe their generosity to us. Beth put it simply. “When we begin our journey around the Great Loop, we hope that others will help us when we need it.”
Brett spent hours the first day fixing the steering cable but finally got it into place. He then tried to work at replacing the transmission seal but after hours of battle, couldn’t remove the part to replace it.

I spent my days between building jewelry and visiting with Butch, Barry and Beth. They had all hooked me up with internet. Barry had driven me to a neighbor’s house to use the wifi in his driveway. Butch had someone out to the point to fix the yacht club’s internet so I could use it. I spent a lot of time trying to catch up on bills and the blog and jewelry. Beth and I swapped cruising tips and books. We all discussed the recent barge/tanker collision on the Mississippi River and how it would affect our travels.

Everyone had really detailed info about the upcoming stretch through the Harvey Locks. We even had Tam’s son, Tommy, talk to us about crossing the Gulf, around the Mississippi.

Brett and I discovered we were not part of the association that they asked us about. We showed Butch our yacht club cards but he didn’t care. He promptly tossed the problem aside and invited us to dinner with them and the kids at the Sunfish camp they were holding.Brett and I couldn’t believe how nice everyone was at the yacht club to us, these strangers on a blue and purple boat.
On the second day at the yacht club, I had returned from Barry taking me to his neighbor’s to use the internet. I looked into the water at the bow of our boat.

“Look! It’s an eel!” I squealed. A second later, I heard a splash. I looked to the stern, and saw Brett clambering into the dinghy from the water! He had just dove into the water to check the prop when he heard me mention the eel. I laughed as his dripping body sat in the dinghy. He had heard me say the word “eel” and panicked to be in the water. I watched the creature swim off and Brett jumped back into the water. He quickly dove under a few times. After a few minutes, he climbed into the dinghy.

“Well?” I asked impatiently.

“There’s barnacles and I think I cut my hand on an oyster on the prop” he declared as he peeled off the swim fins.

Later, Butch confirmed that the creature in the water was a Gar fish, not an eel. It was pretty funny to see Brett pop out of the water like he did because of an eel.

The second night there, Butch invited us to lasagna with the kids and adults. After dinner, we rowed the dinghy to the store/restaurant/fuel dock/bar. We strolled around a few times and settled on some Breyer’s chocolate ice cream. What a treat to sit on our boat, eating chocolate ice cream before it melted completely away. I didn’t use to like ice cream till I met Brett. He introduced me to Baskin Robins and now we both are ice cream fanatics. We sat in the salon and savored every bite.

I got up early the third day and discovered the internet on so I spent most the day updating the blog. Barry’s girlfriend got on the phone with me in the morning and she ordered some of my jewelry. Then Butch also ordered jewelry for his wife. It was so nice to have people look at my jewelry and enjoy it. We needed the money desperately, too.

We spent the rest of the day, relaxing. I made jewelry while we watched movies. It was very hot and nice to stay inside the cooler boat. We rowed back to the restaurant/grocery store/fuel dock for more of the delicious fried chicken we’d had a couple days before.

DAY 15 and 16: 07/27/2008, 07/28/2008
CYPREMORT YACHT CLUB TO MORGAN CITY
We got up, not so early, and planned our day for leaving. I listened to the weather report and discovered a heat advisory for our area. The waves were cresting and it was windy, too, out in the bay. After tossing the decision back and forth to leave, we decided to head out. We didn’t want to wear out our welcome and the weather was to only get worse throughout the week. We headed out into the choppy bay, both of us scared of the rolling waves crashing through the narrow channel. But Brett, once again, drove us expertly out of the channel and we rolled and pitched toward the markers.
I ran around lashing things down. Benny got sick right away and then went to sleep. I took every remedy I had that was natural and non-drowsy as I plotted our course. It was a sunny day but the waves were rolling. The boat performed beautifully over the ways, surfing her way toward her destination. We didn’t have to fight the wheel to keep her on course and she glided through the waves. With her narrow bow, she glided through the waves rather than pound through them. It was the most wave action I had been through with her. After awhile, I even took the helm. At first, I had to be careful about overcorrection. I had to steer toward the waves so they didn’t roll us off course. Soon, it was easy to get into a rhythm. I always am reminded of how thankful I was of the practice I had had in Matagorda Bay on Eddie’s boat an Charl’s boat. The experiences on their boat built my confidence and I wasn’t scared to steer our boat through these small waves.

As soon as we neared the waterway, I called Mom and Sue to let them know where we were at. I text Charl and Travis as well. It got hot quickly. We motored down the waterway, anxious about our approach of Wax Fall Outlet at the “The Jaws”. We were told the currents here were brutal. I announced our crossing to ensure no other barge traffic was coming through while we were.
The boat continued Eastbound with little resistance by any current. We made it through easily and without any problem. Brett breathed a sigh of relief. He had expected us to be pulled out into the shallow entrance of the Vermillion Bay through “The Jaws”.

We continued on, enjoying the beautiful scenery around us. The trees were so gorgeous. But trees also meant floating logs so we had to keep a watch for any debris in the water.
We approached the area I was so nervous about. There were radio checkpoints between mile 102 and mile 92. I had to coordinate with the Berwick traffic on where we were. We called way too early but everything went smoothly. Brett assured me that even if I was a little off on when to call, it wouldn’t be a problem. They just wanted to know where we were at for traffic purposes. They were extremely nice and helpful and helped guide us into the marina city docks.
At the second checkpoint, the Berwick traffic operator asked me over and over to spell the name of our boat. “B, as in boy, E, N, as in Nancy, E, V, as in victor, O, L, E, N, as in nancy, C, E” I slowly spelled out for him. I started to mess it up as I spelled slower.

Brett and I disagreed on where the marina was, so I called the marina and asked them directions. It was where I thought it was. Brett was wrong again with navigation. It was so nice that navigation fit me. He could steer and be captain and I could be the navigator. We made a good team.

The Berwick traffic operator asked me all about our boat and where we were from and headed. He was very nice and talkative. Finally, a towboat captain interrupted to remind the operator to get back to work.

As we approached the railroad bridge, I called the operator again and he gave us detailed instructions on how to get to the docks. He asked us (me) how long we were staying in Morgan City. I told him two days. There was a pause and he glumly said, “Oh , okay. Enjoy your stay in Morgan City.“ It was funny. It was like he had hoped we would stay in his city and enjoy things longer.

We were approved to go under the train bridge to the docks. We paralleled parked between two shrimp boats. The pilings were huge and there were no cleats. With some work. We got our boat secured. We had traveled almost eleven hours and approximately forty to fifty miles. The miles logged meter was in discrepancy.

The wakes proved to be bumpy ever half hour or so at our dock. We walked down to the box to drop our payment off and noticed that the pleasure craft docks were further up the docks and had cleats. Oops. It was late so we ate eggs and bacon while I called Mom.
The next day, we both had trouble getting up. The rolling waves from wakes and the river kept us up a lot of the night. It was to be another record breaking hot day. We slogged around, trying to get energy to do anything and go anywhere. We finally meandered to the hardware store, just on the other side of the seawall.

We decided to stay one more day to give Benny a break from the hot weather. I was relieved as I was extremely tired. I worked on the blog throughout the day. Brett and I walked to the nearby restaurant and had lunch. Then we walked to the main street and found a gas station with cigarettes, chocolate and water.

We went back to the boat and both took naps. It was a slow, relaxed day after the long day we’d had before. In the evening, we walked around the historical part of town, trying to find another restaurant to eat at that was open. The only one open was near the boat and looked very fancy so we headed back to the main street to a fried chicken shack.

We could tell that Morgan City was trying hard to pick up the tourism. They looked seedy from the docks, but crime was actually very low. Just outside the seawall, there were beautiful historical buildings and houses.

DAY 17: (07/29/08)
MORGAN CITY TO HOUMA
We got up early to start out in cool weather. We had to make a bridge at a certain time, too. I got Brett up and we prepped the boat to leave. I called the Berwick Traffic to announce our departure. He said a barge was coming through Southbound and we were to fall in behind him through the railroad bridge.

It was perfect timing, so we followed the barge and then headed East as the barge continued South. We quickly passed our checkpoints and made it the Bayou Boeff (buff) locks. We entered the locks behind a large barge without waiting. We coasted through the locks with no problem and continued to head East. The day was perfect so far. Our obstacles went smoothly. The day was clouded over and cool. Brett had made a good decision to wait until the next day to leave Morgan City. We knew we had a long day. Brett increased the boat’s speed to over 6 knots. We hadn’t run the engine that hard since we left. It seemed to like that speed. The vibration lessened and the engine was actually cooler. We surged along the beautiful scenery. I organized the nav table cabinet and then came out to steer. Cypress trees, with their “knees” just above the water surrounded us. The water turned a beautiful green. It was lovely. I took all kinds of pictures.

We had a barge in front of us after the locks and it took awhile to pass him. He wouldn’t answer our radio calls even though other barges notified him of our attempts. We finally blew our horn twice (passing on the two whistle) and proceeded to his port side to pass. As we begun to pass the towboat, he called us and asked us if we’d like him to slow down. I said that that would be great and he politely slowed down and asked about where we were from and where we were going. Butch had said that if you don’t say their name right, sometimes they won’t answer but I had heard other barges call him with the same name. But he was very nice and we will never know why he didn’t respond to our calls.

After a few hours, I began to notice that the batteries were still low. I switched the Perko switch to ALL to try and charge both. We turned the inverter on so we could run the computer. The chart program we’d loaded on here before we left was all we had to guide us down this part of the waterway so it was imperative to have the computer on.

Pretty soon, I heard an alarm. I was steering so I had Brett go below and we found the inverter alarm on. It confirmed that are batteries were indeed low, even with the four hours of running the engine. Brett said he thought it was because of everything we’d been running but I disagreed. We weren’t running anything more than we usually do when the batteries stayed at thirteen on the voltmeter The voltmeter was reading 11.9 now.
We turned everything but the computer off but the batteries remained low. We knew there was a problem somewhere but would deal with it when we docked.
We continued down the beautiful waterway, enjoying the cool weather and scenery.
We soon approached the Houma bridge, two hours earlier than predicted. Our faster pace had benefited our timing with the bridge’s rush hour. After a short wait, we were able to get through and on to Houma.

The narrow channel lead through town. It was heavenly to see manicured lawns and flowers again. And green water instead of brown.

We approached the twin bridges that the marina sat under and saw a barge headed toward us. We called him and told him we’d wait till he passed before making our approach to the marina. We pulled up and slid into our slip. It was still a beautiful day and everything had gone smooth. I called Mom to let her know we’d gotten there.
After setting us up and pumping out the very full holding tank, I set off on the bike to town. It looked safe here. I was anxious to see the shops nearby, scope out the coffee zone where there was internet and check out the post office to see if I’d gotten my jewelry package mailed here yet.

The rain had soaked my bike’s seat and my short were soon drenched on the bottom. When I arrived at the post office, I tied my jacket around my waist to cover the wet spot. I mailed out some letters and jewelry. My jewelry order had arrived already. I had not brought ID but she gave it to me anyway since my name was on the envelopes I was mailing. I headed back down the other way toward Main street. I discovered a Chinese restaurant. We hadn’t had Chinese in months! I discovered the Coffee Zone which closed at four o’clock and many other neat shops on my way back to the boat. The hospital was across the marina, too. I found many medical centers along my route. This would have been an excellent source of work for me. I felt at home instantly in this town. It seemed about the size of Springfield and felt much safer than the other towns we’d been in. But the marina was for short term only and it would be hard for Brett to find work here.

I spent the rest of the day napping and reading my book. At dinner, we shut up the boat and walked back to the Chinese restaurant so Brett could look around, too. The food was excellent and it was a really nice looking restaurant. The prices weren’t too bad. I actually relearned how to use chop sticks. I hadn’t used chop sticks since I was a little girl.

We spent the evening studying our books. We decided to watch a science fiction movie, called, “Virus”. I had forgotten what a bad script they had. It was on ships and it was about electric aliens taking over a ship and the crew being built into robots. It had me anxious so I asked to watch a different movie so I didn’t dream about Virus. So I found the perfect one. “Short Circuit”. LOL. Perfect sequel to VIRUS.
We both fell asleep during Short Circuit. We slept well for a change.

And now we are caught up!

Thanks for sharing our adventure with us. I would love any emails and I’ll get on the internet when I can.
Love- Kyla (and Brett)