Be Prepared! Pare Down!
October 8, 2007
by Michel & Jane DeRidder

As we head toward the four-score-year milestone, we decide it is not fair to leave others to clean up after us when we finally 'cark it' as we Kiwis sometimes say.

We had been back on our river pilings only a day or two, when Michel suggested we take everything out of the forepeak to see if there was anything we could get rid of.

"It's been several years since we last did it," said he.

It had not been that long ago! I got out my records to prove it to him. Turns out it was in April 1998. Time slips by stealthily, silently, inexorably.

Entrance to Magic Dragon's emptied forepeak stowage.

"It'll only take us a couple of hours or so," he added. But no. It took us two exhausting days. We had forgotten the huge volume of this space, when packed like a Rubik's Cube.

Treasures piled high in topsy-turvy main cabin

The cabin and cockpit were heaped with displaced treasures during those two long days. We still have our 1955 wedding album, not to mention a spare stove, as well as pilot books from here and there. Among other precious gear, such as sail cloth for possible repairs, is a soft leather cow hide. In the bottom of the forepeak lies a spare windlass drive motor and gear box, and a 50 ton hydraulic jack.

At the bottom of the forepeak space.

The reason it took so all-fired long to do the job is that before the varied items - including several metal boxes of slides and many Fruit of the Month boxes of photos - could be repacked back into their dry (thank God) stowage area where they had been languishing for the past umpteen years, we had to swab dust and cobwebs out of the forepeak, and wipe the space down with vinegar water.

Empty forepeak, cleaned and ready to reload.

Then we had to dry out silica gel on the heater to turn it back to blue from pink, bag it, and replace the wee bags before we encased each box and package in fresh plastic where necessary. Then we packed most of it back where it had come from. But first we had a look at some of our old color transparencies.

Looking at some of our slides.

Perhaps when we do finally swallow the anchor, we'll have time to store these glimpses from our past digitally so that we'll be able to hoot with laughter and melt with nostalgia in our dotage.

Then, last week we decided to go through our shore storage of treasures. We tend to keep far more than necessary, things any one in his right mind would have jettisoned years before. (See our story TOO MUCH JUNK, January 2005, for our excuse). Once again, what we thought we could do in no time took forever. It is the decisions that are most difficult. How to part with things that might come in handy? We still kept far too much, but nevertheless, we feel lighter in spirit.

Off to the rubbish tip.

We loaded the back of our mini-Mitsubishi station wagon as well as a borrowed trailer with winnowed items and drove it all to the rubbish tip - as the garbage dump is locally known.

Our vintage three-speed bikes in the rubbish tip.

There were a few things that we decided to chuck and then brought back again. One was a never-used kerosene iron. We don't expect to ever need it (we gave up ironing years ago) but Michel wonders if the pump is identical to the one on our kerosene radiant heater, something we have been known to take on camping trips. Or what about if we move ashore into an un-insulated Kiwi apartment and the power goes off? It's best to be prepared, he feels. Trouble is, we have a long way to go. The truth of the matter is - we are not yet ready to push up daisies.

The 77-year-old captain on his 18-speed bicycle.