The Puzzle is Solved

Every puzzle has an eventual solution.  Ours came to us a week after we arrived at Camp Chang.   We had been consoling ourselves with fun and bike rides and fish tacos and margaritas and kayaking and shopping and bacon, lots of bacon!  (None for me, of course, but it made the boys happy.)

Our boat repair service manager sent us a message (and sent us the picture, below right) letting us know the status of the testing that had been done on Nalani.  The first news was that the VHF antenna (the base of which is about the size of a shot glass) was struck--I just found out that VHF stands for "Very High Frequency"; doesn't that sound too simplistic?  Anyway, the strike was strong enough to knock out all of our electronics. 

Normal Antenna

Fried Antenna

We need replacements for the navigation systems, winches, bow thrusters, lights, navigation and cabin lights, those types of things.   There was no exit damage on the hull, which means that the strike did not find a way to puncture a hole in the boat bottom.

The best news was that they would not have to "pull our stick."  That means our mast.  Labor dollars and hours would be saved; hurrah!  Orders have been submitted for most of the parts we need and we hope they arrive and are installed soon.

Since Nalani was up on the hard (out of the water), we realized her bottom needed some serious attention.  Doesn't everyone's, ever so often?  A day at the spa would be perfect.

First, a bit of dermabrasion to scale away those pesky barnacles, then a nice bit of sanding to smooth down her curves.  Next up will be a little plastic surgery around her belly to provide an especially smooth and tight complexion for a new paint job.  We've decided to take her to a whole new level of blush; out with the weathered bronze patina to a beautiful creamy red.

Even though the shock of the lightning strike was huge and a wrench was literally thrown into our short-term plans, when Nalani comes out of her month-long stay at the spa, she will fly like the wind unencumbered by pounds of paint-sucking barnacles.

Next Up:  A Tale of Two Dads