Replacing the Aft Cabin Bulkhead

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And so it begins…

Oddly, Murre is not only in the same shed as two years ago for the cockpit job, she's in the same slip. She's facing bow out, just like before. The blue tarps I used for extra coverage against storms are the same blue tarps. The same sea gulls do the same tap-tap-squawk dance on the same tin roof. Even the neighbors are the same. But I find their neighborly recognition is slow, somewhat guarded, as I explain I am back for more of the same, as if they are thinking, "didn’t he already do that?”—as if they are thinking “is he crazy or just plain dumb?"

And as to that question and by way of providing evidence one way or the other, I thought I might post a few photos here now and again—as work progresses or fails to progress and my access to enlightenment and divine grace waxes, wanes.

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