We’re getting old. Who will build the boats?

Woops! My fingers are on the keyboard again.

Before Covid 19, I was a cabinet maker for a Yacht Company. It is located in Florida, and based in Taiwan. All of us in the cabinetry department, are distinguished older gentlemen… except Fred.

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These yachts are 70′ long. They have two huge Volvo Diesels and carry 4000 gal of fuel. I am a sailor, and am in the minority in this plant. Actually, I only know of one other sailor, and he’s never had his off of the dock. I use my diesel for getting in and out of tight anchorages. My fuel bill is about $200 a year, based on $4.00 a gallon. The seventy, will spend $1600 for one fill up, and probably go through many tanks in a season. I always loose this debate in the shop. Roughly 312 to 1.FBookukhgRight now, April 12th, 2020, I am on home lockdown, waiting for the Covid 19’s Visa to expire. I left a partially built cabinet on my workbench, locked my toolbox, and pulled the plug on my chargers and radio. We have millions of dollars worth of unfinished-sold, yachts to complete, so I am assuming that I will at least have a job until they are finished. This is what I do.

 

This is starting to look like an advertisement for a yacht broker, but most of these are photos from my cell phone. Myself, and a couple others, have been with the plant since boat one. We did the prototype cabinets with cardboard and sticks, and then started working on weight reduction, weighing everything we created. I am qualified to say that we have some of the most talented yacht-level cabinetmakers available, but we’re all getting old. We have brought in young apprentices, paid them extremely well, and they still quit for anything that resembles a video-game.

“Who’s going to build the boats?”

In the past, any time things got out of control in the United States, or my life, I escaped to an island. That’s always been my answer, and it has been the input for a crazy life.

“I should write a book! HA!”

I have sailed everywhere from Florida, to Grenada. Florida Keys, Bahamas, a New Years party on the beach at Foxy’s, on Joust Van Dyke, explored the Baths, in Virgin Gorda, Scuba dive shipwrecks at 100′, had an eel swim between my legs, personally knew a barracuda named Charlie, raised a peregrin falcon named Fabian, and knew a mule named Vanilla. I fell in love with Nevis, and St. Kitts, Started another book in N. Jamaica, not supposed to talk about Costa Rica, been on a first name basis with a Rasta, and moved to St. Croix, for several years, before returning to Florida.

A sailboat, can take you far, a lot cheaper than a six million dollar floating mansion. Unfortunately, I can’t even afford the sailboat right now. She sits on the hard wondering where I am.

“We can’t leave the country this time. The virus is everywhere.”

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#Pomeranian #Pets #Virus #Pandemic #Home #Internet #Stress #Book #Covid19 #Education #HomeSchool #Class #Entertainment #Bicycle #Family #Psychology #Claustrophobia #Sanity #Tension #Author #Writer #eBook #Islands #sailboats #Yacht #Economy #Employment #Unemployed #SkilledTrades #Travel #Transportation #Career #SteadyIncome #ReEmployment

READ A BOOK! CLICK!

 

Do you smell cigarette smoke?

Phantom smelling of cigarette smoke, burning wires, or something rotting, is common.

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Many, many, years ago, I played guitar in a rock band. Our band never got beyond the small bars so I’m sure you never heard of us. We argued all the time, fought over girls, and wanted to become big rock stars by… tomorrow. The world had not been educated yet… into the dangers of cigarette smoke, and all of the other things that followed the night life. I remember nights that the smoke was so thick, I couldn’t see the bartender, or the people at their tables. I closed my eyes from the smoke, and learned to control the coughing. I never developed the desire for cigarettes, but would do anything… to play my music.

Now, 2019, I still don’t smoke, and have a closet full of guitars that I haven’t played in ten years. I know, I can’t believe it either.

Through my life, I have had a few major career changes. I was a finish carpenter in new construction, then I became the vice-president of a construction company, and now I build yacht interiors for a Florida company that sells them for $5.4M each.

Even with that resume, what I derive the most pleasure from is writing. It also pays the least. BUT… that’s not what this post is about! I started typing tonight to tell you about a strange condition I have acquired. The above history lesson is my way of searching for straws in my past.

For a few weeks now, I have been occasionally smelling cigarette smoke. I still don’t smoke, but many of the guys I work with do. I assumed that having to walk through their break area three times a day, or having them with me with their smoke saturated clothes, had rubbed off on me and was just an occupational hazard. I could smell the smoke at my workbench, in my truck, and even in my land home. Again, I assumed that the odor was following me, from my association with smokers. This weekend, I was on my sailboat. I had fresh clothes on and there has never been a cigarette on my boat. I could smell it down inside my boat, which eliminated passerbys on the dock. The other component is that I don’t always… smell it. Even at work it comes and goes. This is driving me crazy, and no-one else was smelling what I described.

I Googled it! “Happy Day!” There were hundreds of people asking the same questions that I had. I spent hours reading the threads, comments, and analysis of doctors and ENT’s. I am not crazy!

“It’s called Phantosmia.

Phantom smelling of cigarette smoke, burning wires, or something rotting, is common and is nothing to be alarmed about. Often, the problem will go away on its own, and in some cases, it has been cured by antibiotics inhaled as a nose spray. I suspected that mine may have been a sinus infection because months ago, whenever I sneezed, I could smell mold. The environment I work in supplies multiple sources for a sinus infection.

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If the smell issue remains for a long period of time, you should consult an ENT or neurologist to take your condition to the next level. One of the more serious things that can create the same symptoms is a brain tumor. A tumor that creates the illusion of smell would be located in the temporal lobe. This also interests me because I had a severe injury to my skull when I was a kid. A punch… (Different story), to the side of my head caused a blood clot the size of my fist. Surgery was performed after removing ALL OF MY HAIR… and multiple therapies began. This was also the end of my rock-star fantasy when a young nurse brought me my hair in a brown grocery bag, and left me to figure out that I was shaved beneath my bandages. Again… I am getting off the subject.

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Several of the reports that I read on-line said that they were getting an MRI of their brain to check this possibility. There are other things that cause phantom smells such as a stroke, seizure, or epilepsy. Some people are not aware that they have had one of these conditions. Even if one of these disorders are benign, the smell problem can still be present. In any event, it sounds to me like a warning to find a specialist and have it checked out.

NOW! I am not a Doctor. As I stated, the information here was collected from the internet in an attempt to research my own problem. I welcome any input or suggestions and strongly suggest that you do your own research and don’t base your conclusion on any of my research.

Leave me a comment… tell me how you have dealt with a phantom-smell… or send me an email. Add “I smell smoke” to the title so I don’t think it’s spam.

AND, FOLLOW my blog. I have a book that will be out soon… I hope. The editor has had it now for six weeks. It is a fiction, but tells of a man who learned how to reverse his age and stay young indefinitely. I’ll send a notice when it’s available. It’s called Longue’ Duree, if the editor hasn’t changed that too.

 

#medical #Health #Boat #Yacht #Carpentry Cigarette, #research #Medical #RocknRoll #LongHair #sailing #Smell #Odor #

Broke down in Florida nature reserve. Alligators and Space-X

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Alligator Bait.

I left the cabinet shop at the yacht factory after a hot day of doing things over. The partially visible hinges between the doors and the jams were not perfectly spaced. They wanted them to show 50/50 in case someone took a flashlight and checked the dark space between. There were three SOS hinges on each of nine doors.

The Alpi veneer on one side of a finished door had been damaged and had to be sanded off and re-veneered. This required me sanding with 80 grit sandpaper for two hours, then leaving the door and veneer overnight in the vacuum table.

A cedar wardrobe that went into the starboard stateroom was complete, except for the missing door and trim for the front. I pushed it aside until the walnut arrives and started on another wardrobe that was also missing the walnut parts.

After the standard ten-hour day, I laid my thumbprint on the timeclock and ducked out of the side door to my 2006 pickup. I waved at the guard at the guard-shack and sped through the traffic of 528. I exited onto Courtenay and zoomed north toward Kennedy Space Center. The radar detector was working fine. I had a 5:00 appointment with the cable company at my land home to check the cables to my high-speed modem.

As I came to the light at 405, I smelled antifreeze. My truck was running hot and as I passed the intersection, the steam came through the hood and across my windshield. I sat puzzled for a second as the steam came through the dash vents of my A/C. I opened the windows, turned off the outside air, and popped the hood.

The hose that went into the heater core had broken.

My adrenalin was peaking and I pulled the tools from behind the seat and removed the clamps. Between the hose on the heater core, and the hose to the engine, was a cheap plastic part that had a small fitting for service. The front of the plastic part was still in the hose and I ungracefully dug it out in pieces with needle nose pliers. With my hands bleeding, I tried to push it over a flange that was just a little too big. I laid my cell phone on the fender and pressed my mechanic’s number.

“Yeah David, if you pull the rest of the hose fitting off, you should be able to push the long hose onto the heater core tubing! If it doesn’t work, call me back and I’ll send a wrecker.”

“Okay! Thanks Tony.”

I managed to get the other clamp off that was recessed back against the firewall, with other hoses inconveniently around it.

Space-X, had just released their employees and cars were zooming by in a hurricane evacuation type frenzy. I laid the broken plastic part in the floor of the truck and resumed pushing the hose onto the BRASS fitting of the core. I had to use a screwdriver to push the clamp back far enough, but finally had it secure.

“My appointment! I have a 5:00 appointment!” I hit the button for my service provider.

“If you are calling to pay your bill press…”
“If you would like to change the services on your account press or say…”
“If you are calling for technical assistance press three.”
THREE… I pressed three!
“Please press one, for English… Press two for Spanish…”
ONE… damb it! English!
“Thank you… your estimated wait time is…”
AAaaahhhh! I pressed zero… and zero… and zero…
“Spectrum-Brighthouse, how can I assist you?”

“Look! I am on the side of a busy road with a broken-down truck. My hands are covered in grease, antifreeze and blood, and I have a rather large alligator that wonders if my legs may taste like chicken. I have a 5:00 appointment at my home with your service rep. and it appears that I will not be there.”

“Is this the account associated with the number showing on my caller ID?”
“Yes.”
He was laughing and snickering. “Don’t worry sir. I wall take care of it.”
“Thank you.”

Fortunately, I had been working on my sailboat last week and had all of the fairing compound, primer, sandpaper, and related tools in the back. (My truck has a fiberglass shell.) I cleaned the blood, and antifreeze off of my hands, and took out a five gallon bucket to dip replacement water from the nature reserve.

“Crap!” I stared at a big gator. He stared at me. I walked further away from him, and got some water, as we watched each other closely.  He leisurely swam toward me. I added the water to the trucks plastic reservoir and drove home watching the temperature gauge all of the way. I relaxed when I pulled in the driveway.

I took a quick shower and popped the cap on a cold Heineken. I pulled the handle on the recliner and pushed the Netflix option on the remote. It downloaded a movie, started, and kicked back to antenna TV. After doing this over and over, I went to my home-office and turned on the computer. No Netflix, no Twitter, no WordPress, no Pinterest, and only old email, from eight mailboxes.

Long drink… deep breath… and started running through the tests on the modem. In the end, the Tampa server was down, and I was exhausted. I remembered that it was a full moon… and went to bed.

#wordpress #gator #alligator #Brokedown #overheated #travel #Florida #MerrittIsland #AutoRepair #Bait #RocketLaunch #Space-X #NASA #NatureReserve

A Yacht Cabinet Maker’s Dragonfly Experience

We joked about him all morning and started calling him George.

When not writing, I build cabinets for a local yacht company.

Yesterday morning, a cold front came into Florida. It was 65 deg at my workbench when I unlocked at 5:45 am. I sat my coffee on the toolbox and noticed a large dragonfly hanging on the side by my clamps. I moved around him all morning as I worked, sometimes within inches, and he just watched me and occasionally moved himself around.

We joked about him all morning and started calling him George. After lunch the temperature was near 70 and George had left. About 3:30, George came back with a friend. His friend had cobwebs tangled on his wings and tail, and I cleared the webs and released him. They both flew into the upper level of the huge shop, and I suppose they plan to stay warm in here… until tomorrow.

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I was building this cedar cabinet for a 70′ yacht.

#dragonfly #cabinetry #insects #woodworking #yacht #Florida #WordPress #author #writer