|White Trash Boating|
"It's not that I don't love them," I muse while shifting roughly a million pounds of stinking, moldy, food encrusted clothing from the hulls into the cockpit. "It's that I would love them more if they did the laundry."
My husband apparently agrees, "They're old enough. Make them."
I am properly incredulous, "Make them." Make them. Wow. That's simple. Make three girls aged 9, 12, and 14, do something smelly, tedious, and hard. Okay.
"You make them."
Proving that my daughters are not the only children on the boat, "No, you make them."
I glare at my husband, hands on hip. "I cooked, I cleaned out the refrigerator, AND…" and here is the triumphal feather in my cap, "I rebuilt the starboard head." Firmly and without any hesitation, I consign DrC to hell, "You Make Them." And with that, I metaphorically wash my hands of the dish towels, panties, and shorts and head below to play World of Goo.
The problem with laundry on a boat is that it's hard. It's laundry without a net. Actually, it's laundry without a washing machine, a dryer, or good quality, environmentally friendly soap. In fact, it's laundry without water since we start with nothing but salt water, a cranky water maker, and an attitude. The problem with laundry on our boat is that we have a lot of it.
I know people who put washing machines on their cruising sail boats. We call them weekenders. Real cruisers use their washing machines to store foulies or mangos or a replacement halyard. The chandleries sell little jokes called washing tumblers which are both too small and waste far too much water to provide a practical solution to the mountains of filthy clothing produced by three active girls and a pirate.
I, of course, am laundry-less. While cruising, I live in an pair of hi-tech REI shorts (panties built in) and a sports bra, both of which I can wash with a bit of dish soap in a coffee mug and dry by waving them at my husband in a tauntingly sexy fashion. I don't believe there is such a thing as a boat under 100 feet with a clothes drier. This is, of course, why safety lines were invented. It sure as hell wasn't to prevent you or your expensive boat gear from falling off the boat as we have repeatedly proven.
So. Washing on Don Quixote is an all day affair… at least. Sometimes several days. We pull out several gargantuan plastic buckets. Normal folk in the Real World buy these at WalMart to store things that they don't want but are afraid to throw away. They accumulate like drier lint in the back of closets and in garages and in attics. We fill the buckets about half full of water and a toxic Mexican laundry soap, then jam in every item of clothing we own, an indeterminant number of towels and several pillow cases.
Then we wait. There is a theory amongst the DQ clan that if we wait long enough, the laundry will wash itself. Sometimes, this works… as in the time that the laundry was taken over by a desperate colony of thirsty bees who sucked the water out. Then there was the time it sat long enough that the smell made us dump the entire lot into the ocean rather than touch it to retrieve our belongings.
However, mostly, the wait is for an hour or two and then the hard slogging work begins. Using a toilet bowl plunger or bare feet, we stomp the dirt out. It's like making wine the old fashioned way but without the production of palatable beverages. Then in three-man teams, we wring the sludge out using our hand crank Dynajet wringer. Load up some fresh water, repeat the stomp, repeat the wring. And again. And sometimes again because let's face it… we're filthy.
Drying involves clipping a carabiner to each and every item of clothing. We used to use clothes pins but a 25 knot breeze one evening reduced our underwear stock by roughly 70% and took out my only push-up bra so now we clip everything to the lines in a fashion that would withstand a hurricane. Several hours later, we pull the fresh, hand-washed, line-dried linens off the halyards and sheets, completely faded of all color and with the elastic blown to hell but with the bright smell of chemical lavender.
Only a short while passes while I take on the challenge of moving little balls of electronic, physics challenged goo from one location to another on my laptop, but no sounds of war upstairs is promising. DrC pops his head down into the cabin, and says, "Let's move the boat. We'll go to Bahia El Coyote."
My eyebrows go up, "What about the laundry?"
The pirate smile starts to creep through his beard, eyes dancing he says, "I had an idea."
Twenty minutes later, we are steaming very slowly south to a new bay. Behind us, the dinghy is full of water, laundry, soap, and children, the mix gently agitating in our steady, bouncy wake. Sitting at the helm while my grinning husband drinks a beer at my side as the girls scream with laughter, I admit, "You're brilliant, you know."
DrC - brilliant idea! Love the picture of the girls doing the laundry. Can't believe that's how old they were when we met you. Time is traveling too fast!
There. I have a brand new, or maybe newly renewed appreciation for our laundry non-generating cats.
If you get a chance, could attach the raft up kinky to your post?
Ha! What a wonderful story. The last photo of the girls doing the laundry in the dinghy is priceless!
Katie and Mark
I did the plunger in a bucket thing for 3 years cruising on the Columbia 50' and had laundry hanging from the lifelines just about every day for those 3 years. Complete white trash. Then on the catamaran I turned into a weekender. Still had the laundry hanging from the bimini just about every day, so I guess I am now just white trash on the weekends?
I am more than willing, Ean, but have no idea what a kinky raft-up would look like. Sounds... um? ... kinky? There is a Raft-Up link on the side bar. Should I just add it to the bottom of the article?
Oh, heavens! Did I fat finger a "k" instead of an "l"? Well, look at that, I sure did. My bad.
What seems to have become customary (if one can apply such a term to our fledgling enterprise) is to provide links to the other raft-uppers' blogs at the end of your post, but as long as you've got the Linky icon in the sidebar, that should do it. I don't see so good out of my right eye but I'm sure other folks won't miss it.
Did I mention I like your storytelling style?
I laughed out loud at this post!! "While cruising, I live in an pair of hi-tech REI shorts (panties built in) and a sports bra, both of which I can wash with a bit of dish soap in a coffee mug and dry by waving them at my husband in a tauntingly sexy fashion." BAHAAA!! Is there a laundromat nearby, or is it too expensive/unpractical to use? Or do you have days where it's just Too Much and use one anyway?
The last photo of the girls doing the laundry in the dinghy is priceless!
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What an incredible adventure! Who knew laundry counld make for such a great store.
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