I started up the engine the other day and it lit instantly, so the air leak was indeed coming from the old fuel pump.  This is important as before I had to keep my finger on the starter to coax it along, which is not go for it at all. The remaining issue is that once it starts it will not go to full revs, but burbles along for maybe about 10 or 15 seconds before it will take off. Unburnt fuel accumulates and there is a big puff of white smoke.

I’m not sure if this is something I’m going to bother with. I suspect that air is still getting in somewhere after the line from the pump-just a little bit, enough to keep proper fuel flow to all injectors until it has been run a few seconds.
This is such a minor issue that I’m not sure I want to chase it down. All that’s left is the primary filter and it’s seals, and the steel line from it to the injection pump. No fuel is leaking so tracking down the source of the air looks like is going to be a hassle and there’s really no reason to be concerned. At this point I’m really talking about very diminished returns for the effort.

There’s another Green Drinks meeting coming up next Tuesday, and again I’ve offered 3 hours of sailing lessons as one of the silent auction prizes.  The auction is a fundraiser for Green Drinks. A woman bought the last one and we talked about her going out but I haven’t seen her in a month. Maybe she’s waiting for warmer weather?

I see that they canceled the cruise ship that was going to be used as a floating hotel for the olympics. I am very glad I didn’t go forward with my scheme to rent out my boat for the event. At $150.00/ a night and reservations required I would have been in it for some serious change, and likely not have been able to make it back. There are literally thousands of people wanting to make money off this and prices have been falling like crazy. You can rent a nice downtown condo for under $100.00/night, and there is no way I can compete with that, if I’m starting at a cost of $150.00!
It seems like the massive hordes that they predicated are either waiting to the last minute or just aren’t coming.


I’ve been hammering my brain trying to understand why I so dislike living out here in Gordon Head. Logically, it makes no sense. Gorgeous house, sauna and hot tub, theatre room, bedroom picture windows overlooking the ocean. Am I crazy?
But then it came to me – the house we had in Abbotsford was also lovely; it was far and above the nicest home in the whole neighbourhood. 1/3 of an acre right in the heart of the city, massive lawns and huge flower gardens. A studio for me in the back. Undeveloped forested property behind us. Covered hot tub as well. Gorgeous 1913 heritage home.

I also hated it. Don’t get me wrong, I knew it was very beautiful and I enjoyed it, but after all, it’s only a home. For some people I guess that’s pretty important, but for me it’s just a place to sleep and eat. It sure as hell isn’t your life.
This place reminds me so much of Abbotsford, and I was so depressed living the suburban life out there. I was never meant to be domesticated and living such a passive, predictable life out there was like waiting to die.

It’s not like life at the dock is so very different on a day to day basis, but it’s much less stable, much less fixed. The very fact that every time I get on or off the boat I’m reminded that there are only four small lines holding me there, gives me a much greater sense of freedom. Being able to live without a car adds to that. Having one’s life contained in a small part of town (downtown) means that most of the time you are living your life, not travelling to where you want to go; it’s an experience of being much more immediate, much more in the present.

It became very clear to me when my daughter and I went for a drive out to East Sooke Park in Tracy’s BMW convertible. We had the top down, tunes going, zipping along the narrow winding road. Classical good times, right?
Not so much, at least not as much as I would have thought. The car is an absolute dream to drive, but we’ve gone much of the same route on our bikes and that is much more fun. Sitting there watching the scenery go by is just so damned passive. And I cannot get the fuel burnt out of my mind. When you cruise in bikes you are much more aware and alert because your body is physically being challenged and you are going at a much slower pace, a pace that puts you in the environment rather than just observing it.

So living small on a boat downtown is actually living large, from an emotional and even spiritual perspective. Here the house is large and requires very little from you. It functions to entertain and provide for the smallest effort possible. It’s all about pleasure and comfort. There’s even a $1500.00 espresso machine that gives you coffee with a single press of the button – it grinds the coffee and expresses it for you, all automatically.
If simple comfort is your thing, fine. But it’s like the comfort of the convertible versus the experience of riding my bike. For me at least, such comfort is the antithesis of being fully alive. It’s numbing, it’s fattening. A rabbit in a cage may be comfortable but is it really living the life that millions of years of evolution has prepared it for?

I want to go home! I have 3 more weeks of this privileged hell after which I don’t know if Tracy’ll ever get me off it again!
That worries me, frankly. I don’t want to be this way, but it’s who I am. I’ve spent almost ½ a century figuring out who I am, and I’m at last helming my life in the right direction.  Tracy is cut from different cloth, and stability and comfort is her thing. Flexibility is my middle name, but when it actually becomes painful and depressing, it’s asking for too much.
I can’t even take off right now as a friend is homeless and is borrowing the boat for a place to stay.  Myself and a few friends were supposed to take off the end of next week, but he’s had to bail and so I’m not sure what I will do.


 Last year's Tall Ship sail



Thetis Island two summers ago. Gawd those were the days!