April 16, 2007
Postscript
August 24, 2006
Tips
August 10, 2006
Differences
July 27, 2006
Easy to Please
July 13, 2006
Silence is Golden
June 29
Lots of Locks
June 15, 2006
Cross-Vesselers
June 1, 2006
Remembering
May 19, 2006
The Perfect Boat
May 4, 2006
In the Eye of the Beholder
April 20, 2006
Making Mistakes
April 6, 2006
Doris Does George Town
March 23, 2006
Getting Organized
March 9, 2006
Bridge Over troubled Waters
February 23, 2006
Birthdays on Board
February 9, 2006
Wild Horses & Wooden Ships
January 26, 2006
Packaging Paradise
January 12, 2006
Bored Games
Click
here for 2005, 2004, 2003, 2002 & 2001 Logs
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A NOTE TO OUR
READERS: We're
off the boat for the moment, but we'll continue posting stories -- like the one
below -- about our previous cruising experiences. We'll be back on board and
actively cruising in the fall. Please keep visiting our log in the meantime.
-- D&E Behind the Scenes
August 19,
2004

We don't have to fuss much with equipment at informal beach singalongs
One of the most common
questions we're asked is, "Where
onboard do you store all of your music equipment?" This innocent
inquiry is usually made when we're packing up at the end of a performance
and David is stumbling under the weight of a couple of speakers, a stray
instrument cable wrapped around his ankle. He's likely to snarl, "In
the bathtub". That's the short answer. Here's the longer version.
When we started living aboard
full time Eileen had a rather large "dreadnought" style
guitar. David asked whether she would consider taking up the harmonica
instead. She countered by suggesting he replace his mountain bike with
a skateboard. We packed both the guitar and the bike and set sail.
For the first couple of years
we were out cruising, we mixed music with socializing at potlucks,
beach bonfires, and sundowner parties. We'd
swathe Eileen's guitar in multiple plastic trash bags, jump into the
dinghy, and head out. No big deal. Then we encountered a Tayana 37 sailboat
named "GumboYaYa" in the San Blas islands of Panama. The father
and two teen aged sons onboard were enthusiastic musicians: a keyboardist,
bass player, and percussionist. Only the mother was normal sized; the
shortest of the three males was six foot four. They lugged all their
music equipment with them -- including a combo amp and complete drum
kit -- and gave impromptu concerts wherever they happened to be. We were
cruising in the same general direction and Eileen ended up performing
with them in Panama, Isla Providencia, and the Bay Islands of Honduras.
They inspired Eileen not only to pursue her music more seriously, but
to acquire more equipment.
"Look," she said, "if
those three giants and all their stuff can fit onboard the same sized
boat as ours, surely we can squeeze
a few more things into 'Little Gidding'."
"They probably sleep standing upright," David
surmised.
In fairly short order, we acquired a combo amp, microphone and mic stand,
guitar stand, and a bunch of cables. The boat hadn't increased in size
and David wasn't about to give up his bike or scuba equipment or other
important belongings. That was when our personal hygiene took a nosedive:
the bathtub became the PA equipment repository.
Ironically, it was this very
bathtub that was one of "Little Gidding's" winning
features when we were comparative boat shopping. Most 36 foot sailboats
have space for only a cramped shower stall. A bathtub, even a tiny one,
gave us delusions of grandeur: we now owned a YACHT. On a chilly day,
if we noticed a less fortunate sailor filling his or her solar shower
at a public water tap, we'd casually remark, "Why don't we go home
and soak in our bathtub for a while?" Of course, a bathtub on a
cruising boat is of questionable merit if you don't have an unlimited
supply of freshwater with which to fill it. For this reason, we actually
didn't use it very often. It was mostly for show, sort of like the swimming
pools you often see collecting leaves in people's backyards. On special
occasions like her birthday, Eileen used to enjoy splashing around in
an inch of tepid bath water. It was, admittedly, pretty pathetic. Nonetheless,
David knew she was truly committed to her music when she gave up the
tub and we lost our status as a yacht.
Within a couple of years, we replaced the combo amp with a powered mixer,
two speakers, and two speaker stands. We bought a powered monitor, more
cables, and -- for night-time extravaganzas -- a couple of work lights.
The stack of equipment in the bathtub grew higher and our list to port
worsened. By this time, the harsh marine environment was exacting a toll
on Eileen's treasured wooden acoustic guitar (despite the plastic trash
bags); she reluctantly exchanged it for an acoustic/electric guitar with
a composite body and lifetime guarantee against warpage.

A fullblown concert ashore means loading the dinghy with equipment and protecting everything from splashes
Storing Eileen's music equipment
turned out to be only half of the problem. The other half was transporting
it to shore. By happy coincidence, the
capacity of our bathtub almost exactly matches the capacity of our nine
foot inflatable dinghy. With careful balancing, we found we could pile
the contents of the bathtub into the dinghy and still have standing room
for the two of us at the stern. Eileen sewed a canvas cover to protect
the equipment from waves and spray. We bought several cans of corrosion
inhibitor. David developed beach landing and launching techniques that
generally involved him getting soaked and the equipment staying dry.
It was at this point that David decided enough was enough. "There's
no more room in the bathtub OR the dinghy; if we get any more music stuff
I might drown somewhere between the beach and the boat," he declared.
Eileen concluded a drum kit was definitely out of the question. She
found a technological alternative to acquiring additional instruments.
She bought some fancy computer software and learned how to programme
an electronic accompaniment to her songs. Her back-up band now lives
in our laptop computer. Drums, bass, keyboards, horns, strings -- they're
all contained in a little black box. Eileen is quite pleased with her
band because they do exactly what she tells them to do. David is thankful
that they don't drink his beer and don't take up any space on the boat.

Eileen's back-up band lives in her laptop computer, where they do what they're told
On rare occasions Eileen speaks wistfully of lounging in a warm bath,
but most of the time we don't miss our tub. Realistically, if it wasn't
full of music equipment, we probably would have found something else
to store in it. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, most cruisers feel compelled
to cram stuff into every nook and cranny on their boats. With a finite
amount of space available, it comes down to setting priorities. We know
a few cruisers who have loaded their shower stalls with cases of duty
free liquor. We figure the music equipment might be saving our livers.
Cheers,
David & Eileen
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