Sunsets, and a sunrise, too

Let's begin the new year and the new decade with a celebration of the extraordinary.

 Sunset from my boat, January 1, 2020.

Sunset view from summer 2019...

Sunset view from fall, 2019...

Sunset view from winter, 2019...

And, a sunrise, too....

Heads, continued....

A slightly more seasoned swabbie follows up on a composting head. (Read the initial post.)

A fleet of small black gnats recently took up residence in the composting chamber of my houseboat’s newly installed Nature’s Head. I'm ignorant of gnats' life cycles and lifestyles so only guessing that the original pair may have entered the composting chamber via the passive ventilator hose.
They quickly set up housekeeping and invited family and friends.
I consulted an online forum of sailors for their expertise on such infestations.
One expert suggested gnats show up if the composting chamber is too damp. The chamber is supposed to be damp to grow the aerobic bacteria that begins the composting process but the moisture level must be titrated. Too much moisture encourages the stinky kind of anaerobic bacteria.
My head doesn’t stink, or even smell, but has nevertheless provided a fecund environment to gnats.

Lovely bunch of coconuts

Coir, pronounced “coy-er”, is a natural material made from coconut husks. For the purposes of heads, coir comes in dry brick form -- one brick per session -- that must be dampened and crumbled before installing.
One coco-composter shared his experience:

While using Cocopeat [coir bricks] I had no bugs. Life was good. My compost wasn't excessively moist, a bit on the drier side. (If it gets too wet, it is hard to turn...and it looks gross, too.) 

One very rainy day I left a vent open on deck and water infiltrated the solids tank. I removed some of the mess and added Sorghum peat. My head was never the same. I ended up with a gnat infestation. I tried dematiaceous earth, no luck. I ended up dumping it all* – not too gross – cleaning well, and starting over. 

If this happens to you, keep in mind, gnat eggs are sticky and laid in crevices. Simply emptying the tank and restarting doesn’t help. The eggs must be completely removed. My Nature's Head has a lip all the way around and eggs were way up in there. I used a powerful spray nozzle to break them loose. It took a long time because of their location. Also had to clean out the vent and fan screens as they were in there, too. 

Bring on the gnats

After a week reading about gnats and heads, I returned to my houseboat ready to rumble.
I spread large garbage bags over the composting chamber, flipped it to pour the composted material into the bag, washed and wiped the chamber interior, then set it in the hot sun (a formidable insecticide). I repeated that process with the upper chamber.
After several hours in the sun, I reassembled the head, sprinkled crumbled coir into it, and assembled the unit. Now I wait to see if this treatment worked.

* US Coast Guard considers a composting toilet a Type III marine sanitation device that can be used anywhere in US waters. But, do not dump "compost" into the water, and never anywhere within the 3 mile territorial limit.

Coming up Aces

A small celebration!
Experienced boaters are my latest heroes. This, because most know or have learned the "rules of the road" for our waterways. Moreover, they know port from starboard and bow from stern, they know about PFDs, buoys, navigational definitions (give way vs stand on, "can" vs "nun", etc.), the fine points of fire extinguishers, how to approach other vessels, bridges, locks ... This is not easy stuff. It's certainly not easy stuff for a swabbie.
Luckily, this swabbie stumbled into the Free Online Boating Safety Course offered by Boat US Foundation. Studying navigational protocols is not easy for someone with a mild case of left/right dyslexia and, until recently, no context for what is required for safety in the navigational world.
Nevertheless, I persisted and, today, passed the final exam.
Excited, I told a friend about my success and he said, "Now I'll have to call you Captain."
Not so fast. That title is a responsibility I'm not yet ready to take on. I like being a swabbie. I like incrementally learning the ropes, toeing the line, cutting the muster. Perhaps, one of these days, I might feel ready to step from the Swabbie rung to Petty Officer, but I'm not in a rush.

Meanwhile, if you are American and you haven't done that set of quizzes and final exam yet, I encourage you to do so. If you're a lowly swabbie like me, the exam might give you more insight into the complexities of boating. Or raise your awareness about just how much more there is to learn.
For now, clutching my Certificate of Completion, I plan to stay humble (rather than petty) and work slowly toward proficiency.

If you are interested in other free to low cost course offerings, visit http://www.boatus.org/courses/.
Here's a sampling of what they offer:

• Offshore Sailing School's Learn To Sail Online
• Partner in Command- An Essential Intro for Every Crew Member
•  Boating on Rivers, Locks and Lakes- Navigating Inland Waterways and Locks with Confidence
• Weather for Boaters- A Boater's Guide to Forecasting, Winds and Storms
•  Hurricane Preparation for Boaters- Protect Your Boat from the Next Big One: Storms, Floods and Wind
• All About Marine Radio- Choosing and Using a VHF Radio for Your Boat  Planning Your Cruise- Boating Beyond the Day Trip
• How to Use GPS- A Boater's Guide to Electronic Navigation
• Free Clean Boating Course
• Modern Marine Navigation

Getting a charge out of batteries

A neophyte swabbie has a lot to learn. Learning on the job comes with challenges, and a price tag, but it also comes with the joy of accomplishment.
Monday through Friday I accomplish what the work-world demands. Come 4:30 pm Friday, I hop into my vehicle, enter a river of bumper-to-bumper traffic squeezed into six lanes, and head to the other river, the serene San Joaquin. 
Saturday and Sunday I swim, bird watch, read, fix things, and swabbie.
A good life, that requires energy.

Energy, packaged

Until recently, I understood batteries be be packs of potential energy purchased from AAA roadside assistants, or tech and grocery stores. My biggest decision was buying one-time use or rechargeables.
Then I bought a houseboat. Oh, how woefully under-prepared I was.
I listened and nodded as the couple selling their boat advised about batteries, generators, inverters, chargers. Certainly, I recognized the three car-size batteries sitting neatly on the transom, just as I recognized the "classic" 85 HP Johnson Sea Horse outboard motor next to them. Together, those objects, I knew, made the boat move. But I focused on the romantic side of houseboating and much of their advice was over my head.

You've come a long way, baby

Two of three batteries on the transom were dead. Before replacing them, I applied myself to learning about batteries, intending to purchase the best value for money with least negative environmental impact.
That intention led me down a path I'm still travelling.
Who knew that batteries offered such variety, and that boat/marine and car batteries were different?
Boats/marine/RV batteries are deep cycle geared both to start engines and provide energy for on-board systems when on the water (away from marina slip).
Car batteries, aka "starting" or “cranking", provide enough power to start cars' engines.
Who knew that there are the four chemical types of batteries?
Well, Sailor for the Sea knew, and they offer this illustration of wet cell (flooded), gel cell, absorbed glass mat (AGM), all lead-acid, and lithium.  (Visit their website, too. It focuses on protecting the health of bodies of water.)

Good overview of batteries from Sailors for the Sea. 

I've come a long way and, yes, I still have a long way to go. But I've taken my first steps.
I learned enough to purchase a new deep cycle battery and recycle the two that no longer work. While I haven't yet purchased a battery charger - I'm still reviewing my options - I regularly start the 85 HP 2-stroke outboard to keep it tuned. For, one of these days - after I pass the boating safety course - I intend to take my houseboat out on the river. Mine is, after all, a riverine romance.

Heads as headache

A boat's toilet/"rest room" is known as a head. With heavy fines levied for dumping sewage – feces and urine – in public waterways, heads can create headaches for liveaboards. Moreover, head options are limited.
A liveaboard can trot up and down from boat to marina land-lubber toilet facilities but that's not a long-term solution. (I'd done that for a year in a former life. I was not interested in a do-over.)

The pump out available symbol.

On-board holding tanks - something like septic tanks - are the norm. They require regular pump outs at marina pump out stations. Most marinas offer that service, advertised by the symbol shown left.
Problem was, the head on my elderly houseboat wasn't hooked up to its holding tank.
While most would agree a pump out every 3 to 4 months is a better option than daily carrying a “chamber pot” to the marina's landlubber drop-off point, I hoped for a more elegant yet financially feasible solution.
I consulted with fellow liveaboards for other practical solutions and discovered there just aren't that many. As I contemplated my options, I heard about the trendiest "waste management" solution: the composting toilet.

Compost anyone?

Diligent research revealed a range of composting toilets that all work on the same principles: pee and poop in a box of some sort, agitate occasionally to encourage breakdown, and, depending on use, empty when required. In other words, a liveaboard sidesteps the marina's electric-powered pump out station by becoming a human-powered pump out station.
Both solutions require hands-on. The composting toilet appealed to me more than the holding tank and pump out. Additionally, composting heads are sold online. I hate shopping so shopping online cut out driving in heavy traffic to find stores that sell them and judging various models while fending off pushy sales people.
While  a discreet head composting quietly aboard implied only a slight reduction of effort, it afforded a reduction of resources (no fossil fuel spent sidling to and from slip to pump out station, no electricity used for pump out) it put control of the process in my hands. I liked that. I also liked that I wouldn't need to hire someone to repair and reconnect my boat's aging holding tank, or buy an expensive hose, or ensure I had enough fuel mixed with the correct formula to move my boat from its slip to the pump out station and back to its slip. Finally, I would not risk spraying myself with sewage connecting and disconnecting the hose during pump out as many others have reported.

Composting head evangelist 

I settled on and purchased the Nature’s Head. It’s at a higher price point than some so after online research I examined my slip neighbor's sturdy Nature's Head head. Six years after he installed it, it still looks good. Most importantly, it exudes not a hint, not a whiff, of its purpose.
I ordered mine. (Neither he nor I have any financial, political, or social connection to Nature’s Head Inc, the company. Our interest is pooping in private and dealing with the consequences ourselves.)

The old head on my boat was still in good shape and I pondered selling it online. I decided the ROI - scheduling appointments with potential buyers, haggling with those who kept their appointment, all for a net gain of about $30 - wasn’t worth it. Instead, I wished it luck and recycled it at the marina's dump.

Out with the old...

… Waiting at the dump for a rescuer to provide a new life

Welcome aboard, Nature's Head!

A small box with five bricks of coconut coir arrived before my new Nature’s Head composter. Coir is one variety of medium for the composting chamber. Natural sphagnum moss is another.
The box itself - shown above - was bulky and well-packed. Inside, a User Guide and Installation Manual, an air filter hose, assorted hardware, and the elements of a composting toilet:

Left: The composting chamber (rear) with holder (front) for the urine bottle.
Middle, foreground: the urine bottle with easy-to-carry strap
Right: lid and seat (still under plastic wrap).

A closer look 

The lid and seat is designed to separate “numbers one and two”:

Pooper hole - open

Open the pooper hole (for "number 2") using the handle visible on the left.
The two holes in the front manage urine ("number 1").

Pooper hole - closed. And pee holes.

Aerial view into the composter showing the stirrer or agitator that's controlled manually with a choice of crank or spider style handle. I chose spider style as my head is in a tight space.

View into the chamber showing agitator to turn over compost.

Installing the system was a breeze.
In his boat, my slip neighbor hadn't connected the air hose that comes with the head. There was a handy hole in the floor of my boat's head so I connected the hose, opting for the passive system. (A user has the choice of air system, passive or active - a small electric fan.)

I’m a weekends-only liveaboard so I expect to empty the composter every four to six months. I’m told compost will have little to no smell and can be emptied into a bag and placed into regular waste bins, or even sprinkled as compost on non-edible plants.

Above photo shows it installed.
Three caveats: 1) ensure placement of the unit allows you to open and swivel the seat and lid section to empty receptacles. Placing your head too close to a wall will require repositioning;
2) display this sign to encourage manly men to sit down to pee (or to clean up urine splashes themselves; good luck with that);
 3) decide how you'll handle toilet paper. As "a girl", I generate more shards of toilet paper than I want to dump into the composter. I've lived in several countries where used toilet paper is not dumped down the toilet and I've opted for that method.
I empty both the wastepaper basket of used toilet paper and the urine bottle at the end of each weekend then rinse both with a white vinegar/water solution.
Hands-on works like a charm.

Happy ever after 

My original head found a lovely new home. The person I’d considered hiring to reconnect my boat’s holding tank saw it at the dump and adopted it.
I’m pleased with my composting toilet. He’s pleased with his newer, more stylish head.
All’s well that ends well.

Two months later...

Well, perhaps quite as well as expected. Gnats moved into my head.  Read all about it.

Stars...

Yesterday's post referred to my discovery of "many florescent stars glowing on the ceiling" on my berth.
I'm in contact with the sellers and I texted to thank them for the lovely surprise I saw when I turned off the berth-side lamp.
I received a text explaining the stars' genesis.
When their youngest girl was smaller (she's six now) her mother writes, "she hated going to bed while the bigger kids got to stay up. So, I stuck the stars on the ceiling and we would talk to the stars and make wishes about all the things she would do when she was big."
I love the image of a mom and daughter stargazing in what's now my floating home.
I'm big already, but I'll keep that tradition and stargaze, too. Why let age and size stop me from making wishes about all the things I'd still like to do?

Two weeks a Swabbie

Two weeks of swabbing - pressure-hosing, (fellow mariners imply the many spiders spinning many webs are a feature of "this time of year"), scrubbing decks and cabin - and uncovering hidden features of my houseboat.
I've a defunct hot water heater and pump under my berth, a solar panel on the upper deck, no running water aboard, and a head (toilet) not hooked up. The sellers mentioned the water and head in passing and, in a romantic haze, I figured, "easy-enough fixes."
I wasn't too far off the mark. A handy-mariner on another houseboat with a reputation for great work and reasonable prices said, "it's not a big job" - and lowered himself into the water to work between the pontoons. Water is not cold but it is deep and he had to flap his fins to float as he replaced an old and leaky pipe. Voilà, cold running water (hot running water is a future fix).
Hooking up the head will require immersion, too. (The marina has restrooms but bladder and bowel shrink as fellow mariners watch one head towards the public head.) I hope the plumbing is done when I return to the boat in three or five days.
Day four this week is July 4th, the most celebrated holiday on the Delta. Mandeville, a local island, is the place for anyone who has a boat. "Like Burning Man on the water," I've been told. (Unlikely I'll attend this year but this drone's-eye view from 2015 gives a sense. Disclaimer: I don't know the drone's remote pilot - or recognize the music. It's You Tube public domain.)
Another discovery: first sleepover in the main berth, I turned off the lamp to discover...many florescent stars glowing on the ceiling. Thank you, sellers, for the lovely surprise.