Sailing on and off the anchor

Steve of S/V Mystic asked for a description of what we do when sailing on and off the anchor...

In three years of cruising down here, we have only had our engine fail to start once (due to low batteries) but you never know when the beastie will let you down, so Rani and I do a lot of practicing just using our sails. Sailing into or out of a crowded or narrow anchorage requires several skills that you do not learn well if you always down sails before coming in or fire up the engine when you depart.

When we arrive in an anchorage under sail, we usually roll in the jib at the mouth of the bay and proceed under main. The exception to this is if we have to beat up to the spot we have selected to drop the hook in. In this case we roll up most of the jib, leaving out just enough to help us tack. We may sail gently through the anchored boats (if any) to verify depths and find the best spot to drop. The trick is to arrive at the right spot after bringing the boat up into the wind and letting fly the main. I must admit that I do not always get this right and may find that once we have dropped down after letting out chain that we are too close to another boat. At this point we either sail out the anchor and try again, or more likely fire up the engine and after dropping the main re-anchor under power. If we are successful in getting into the right spot, we sometimes back the main in order to set the anchor. This involves pointing the boat into the wind (Rani does this) while I push the boom up to windward, filling the mainsail so that Ladybug drifts backwards. If the wind is blowing strongly, I may not do this and rely on the wind on the hull and spars to set the anchor.

When leaving under sail there are two main choices. If there are boats or danger such as rocks or a beach to windward, then we want to leave with the sails loose and drift backwards once we have raised the anchor. This assumes there are few boats aft of us. If the dangers are downwind then we make sure the mainsail is in tight and we beat upwind to the anchor and try to get away on the best tack so that we will clear any boats or dangers. We start by hoisting the main, but only after we have removed the anchor bridle and pulled in about half the chain. This reduces the time we have when we are sailing around with our anchor still in the sand! We often roll out a little jib after the anchor is off the bottom especially when beating to windward. Without this, we have had trouble getting Ladybug to go about, especially if the anchor is still in the water (hanging off the bow as a drag). Of course we try to get the anchor on board as quickly as possible to avoid steering problems.

Rani does the steering during this and I work the windlass on the foredeck to raise or lower the hook. So far we have only had to fire up the engine on one or two occasions when we got caught in stays and were in danger of running into another boat. Speaking of other boats - some people admire what we are doing and applaud a successful exit or entry - others are very uncomfortable when you arrive or depart under sail, perhaps because they would not be comfortable trying the same manoeuver. We do not usually do this in very crowded anchorages for this reason :)

Cruising from Puerto Escondido to La Paz

Rani is working on blogs about our recent hiking adventures as well as some information on the local flora, so I will fill in a few details on where we have been since Puerto Escondido. For those of you who are sailors, I will try to include some details on the passages (day sails) we have made between Escondido and La Paz, where we are now at anchor.

Agua Verde - the palapa is now home base for bow hunters after big horn sheep. The custom caravan belongs to a couple from Alaska.

Our first passage south was from Puerto Escondido to Aqua Verde, a pleasant 10 mile run. We had light airs for much of the passage although we had a promising start with moderate following winds from the northwest. These were strongest in the area of Danzante island, probably due to funneling between the tall peaks of this island and the Giganta range on the Baja 'mainland'. Later the wind petered out to a few knots and we used our whisker pole to hold out the jib, running with our main out on the opposite side. We spotted what we believed to be Gray whales swimming and resting on the surface. The quiet seas made it easy to see the whales from miles away and we would often hear their breath as they breached before we spotted a jet of spume.

Barrel cacti

Snug anchorage under the bluffs

We stayed two days in Agua Verde, due to light winds, buying a few supplies at a new tienda that has opened since the last time we had visited. The goats are not producing much milk at this time of year and we were not able to buy any of the delicious queso fresco that we had enjoyed in previous years. The highlight of my visit here was a tour of the Vancouver island sailing vessel, Aleydabeth. Lyle and Lark showed us around this lovely 35 footer, which they had built from a bare hull. In the heads was a magnificent English toilet, called a Baby Blake, which they had bought second hand. Unlike your typical plastic boat toilets of the $150-300 variety, this beauty was over $5000 new, made of porcelain, bronze, and leather. I was privileged to take the Baby Blake for a test drive and will try to install one in Ladybug if we ever run across a used one in good shape.

Anteater or elephant?

We sailed from Agua Verde out to one of the offshore islands, with winds gusting to 25 knots. It was a great ride with the beam wind pushing use along at a solid 7 knots for much of the way – a 'soldier's breeze'. This sail reminded me a lot of our trip out to Santa Cruz island in California in our first Ladybug. The spray was flying, but the greater freeboard and length of the newer boat kept the cockpit much drier (in Ladybug I, we took frequent spray over the dodger). We dropped the hook off a rock formation that our friend, Rob, from New Zealand on Blue Moon nicknamed the anteater (Rani thought it looked more like an elephant). Despite the strong winds we risked a kayak landing and hiked up an extensive arroyo filled with cacti and flowering desert plants. The trail led up and out of the arroyo onto a plateau that looked out East toward the mainland of Mexico. The sea far below was dotted with white caps and we were glad to be in a relatively snug anchorage.

Ladybug ghosting under the cruising spinnaker.

Two days later, we had a somewhat disappointing sail into El Gato, under whose familiar red cliffs we had anchored on several earlier occasions. After a nice downwind sail of about 8 miles, the wind went elsewhere and we resorted to motoring, taking the opportunity to make water. However, a light breeze filled in after an hour and we had a pleasant drift into El Gato, where a swell bending round the point gave us a rolly few nights at anchor. In El Gato we met Randall on Mure, a graceful 31 foot Mariner ketch. Randall was taking a year off to sail Mexico and planned to return to San Francisco via Hawaii in the summer. We invited him to join us on a lengthy hike and he made a great companion, pointing out and naming birds and plants that we had seen before, but had not identified. He later gave us a book on the plants of the Baja that has added a lot to our enjoyment while hiking.

Mure at sunrise in El Gato

Our next passage saw us using the motor more than we had in total in the previous two weeks. The wind gradually died as we headed south and despite and abortive attempt to fly our cruising chute, we ended up running the iron genny for more than three hours. We made so much water that the tanks overflowed and we had to pump out our bilge and dry out the eggs and cheese we had stored there. We anchored in a new-to-us anchorage near the north end of Isla San Jose. Two other boats were already at anchor when we dropped the hook off a stunning sand spit. We kayaked ashore and walked along the beach as the sun set behind the mountains across the channel – a magical place.

Strange little silverfish like bugs scoot all over the rocks near El Gato. Rani does not like these little beasts one bit!

To make up for all this motoring, we did not use the engine at all on the next four passages, sailing out the anchor and anchoring under sail in each new cove. I justified these maneuvers to Rani as good practice for when our engine would not start. It certainly builds skill to do this and I think Rani may even be starting to enjoy the extra challenge and the occasional round of applause we get when we do an elegant entry or exit under sail into or out of a crowded anchorage. On one passage, another double ender, a graceful Pacific Seacraft Mariah 31, anchored under sail beside us. We exchanged compliments when we sailed out our anchor a half our later, passing close under their stern as we left Isla San Francisco.

Starfish in a tide pool near El Gato

The most challenging maneuvers were when in a tight anchorage on a lee shore as happens quite often in the two big islands close to La Paz. On Isla Partida, we had to beat our way out of a narrow cliff lined bight, tacking every half minute or so into a west wind. Almost all the anchorages face west and we had a similar experience in the wider anchorage of San Gabriel where we missed stays twice due to having up too little sail and nearly ran into the cliffs on the north side of the anchorage. It is a trick to stay calm when you are drifting sideways towards the surf, but this is what you must do if you are to roll out more furled jib and convince the boat to come about on the other tack. We kept the key in the ignition just in case, but I refused to turn on the engine as this would reduce the realism of the whole exercise. Rani is still talking to me, so she is either turning into a real sailor or maybe just becoming resigned to her fate.

Ladybug anchored off Isla San Jose. Nopolo is in the background.

Because there was a National Geographic mini cruise ship anchored in the hook at Isla San Francisco and two other large power yachts besides, we gave this favorite anchorage a wide berth. Instead, we tried out another new-to-us anchorage off the Baja peninsula just south of and opposite Isla San Francisco. We anchored in shallow water in an open roadstead off a fishing camp. Ironically, we had one of the most peaceful nights here in all the places we stayed north of La Paz, for over the next few nights we suffered through Corumel winds blowing directly into the bays on the west side of the islands. We laid out a stern anchor to keep Ladybug facing into the gentle swell and slept like babies.

Balloon fish.

In Cardoncito on Partida island we re-connected with our friends Dennis and Lisette on Windward, spending a few days in their company, hiking, and sharing delicious potluck meals. As is often the case, Windward was heading in the opposite direction and we made tentative plans to see them later in the spring when we should cross paths on our return 'migration' to the storage yard.

Our final port outside of La Paz was the Lobos anchorage about 8-10 miles from La Paz. The anchorage was fairly crowded when we arrived but we tucked ourselves in under sail beside an elegant 40 something foot Swan sailboat. When we came back from a hike, we found 11 boats at anchor, of which 4 were from our home port of Victoria.

Ladybug sails along the Baja.

The sail into La Paz was a dead beat to windward into a short chop. We made it into the channel in two long tacks, but gave up beating up the narrow channel due to traffic in both directions. We anchored off Marina de La Paz near a shallow sand bar that separates the main channel from the Mogote. We plan to be here for about a week.

Heading South

From San Juanico, we sailed to the Coronados Islands, stopping for one night and hiking to the peak with Kurt off Raven. Once the wind filled in the sail was a delight, reminding me of why we started cruising in the first place. I was struck with how much more connected I feel here to the richness of our natural world than when I am living a 9-5 existence at home. We have traded the abstract complexity of our workaday lives back home for this more immediate and deeper experience. Anyway - enough philosophising...

Hammerhead shark head

Rani and Nancy (off Raven)

Kurt off Raven

On our hike up to the peak, Kurt talked of his sailing trip from Hawaii to San Fransisco, during which he and his girlfriend ended up in the Pacific Gyre (an area of calm water at the center of the Pacific high). Here they found all sorts of debris, although not the acres of plastic that now exist there. In addition to Japanese glass floats, they found the floating corpse of a giant red-coloured squid, longer than their 26 foot sailboat. Kurt told me that he later talked to an expert on these squids who told him that he had heard of only a few sightings in all the years he had been studying them.

Sun star

Anchorage on Isla Carmen

From Coronados, we parted ways with Raven and sailed for Isla Carmen where we anchored in a sheltered bay. Eager to stretch our legs, we found a lovely hike to a grassy plateau below which was the site of an abandoned village. The shell middens in this area were a couple of feet thick and extensive.

Grassy plateau on Isla Carmen

View towards Loreto from Isla Carmen

Trigger fish head

Cactus worship

Village shell midden

Sea arch on Isla Carmen

We are now in Puerto Escondido anchored off the Singlar marina.  Ladybug has full water tanks and washed down decks, the laundry is done, and this blog updated, so its time to head south again towards La Paz.

Riding out a gale

Sailors may seem overly preoccupied with weather from a landsman's perspective. Each day we wake up comparatively early to listen to one or more weather forecasts on our long range shortwave radio. When we meet another sailor, weather and sea conditions are almost always part of the conversation. The reason for this is that where we travel, our comfort and safety at sea, and even where we choose to anchor each night are determined to a large extent by the wind's direction and speed.

This time of year in the Sea of Cortez, it is common to have strong northerly winds reaching gale force and often lasting for several days. That means that it is very difficult to travel north and even traveling south can be dangerous or at least uncomfortable during these periods. These winds are caused by areas of very high pressure air north of us in the southern US and much lower pressure air south of us near the equator. The air flows south channeling through the Sea of Cortez until the pressure levels off to the north.

Rani relaxing in the balmy tropical breeze

During the northers, cruisers find an anchorage with some protection from the big swells and waves that build up after a day or so as well as some shelter from the wind. However it is hard to avoid the wind, which will somehow manage to bend its way around even the biggest mountain in its way. We anchored as close to the shore as we dared in a sandy cove with hills to the north. You want good 'holding' so that your anchor will dig in well and sand works well for this.

Before the gale we prepared the boat by removing extraneous items from the deck, tying off any lines that could flap around and keep us awake at night, and tying an extra line around the sail cover. We let out extra anchor chain and put on lengths of fire hose around our bridle (the line that ties the boat to the anchor chain) to reduce the chance of this chafing. We also turned on our mapping GPS, setting an anchor drag alarm. The GPS will detect when you have moved further than X feet (say 120) and will sound a beep to alert you. During the gale, we would get up about once every hour to check for chafing and ensure that the anchor bridle was properly positioned in the chocks. By zooming in on the GPS map, we could see our track as we swung back and forth on the anchor. Finally, we set a small sail called a riding sail from the stern of the boat. This supposedly helps reduce the amount of swinging you do around the anchor, but Ladybug has a very high bow and she still sails around her anchor vigorously.

The first day was exciting and we lost plenty of sleep in the night. The second day we got a bit stir crazy and desparately wanted to get off the boat. We chatted with Kurt and Nancy on the sailing boat Raven, anchored a few hundred feet downwind of us and they were feeling the same - you could here the frustration in their voices. By the third day we had settled into a routine, reading, baking fudge and bread, lazing in the cockpit (dressed in our winter clothes due to the icy winds), and watching movies on our netbook.

We also managed to get our water maker working, which was having problems due to small leaks on the system. The beast runs at 800 psi in order to extract fresh water from sea water through a membrane, so even a tiny leak will cause the whole thing to fail. Fortunately, we were able to tighten a few connections and make 6 gallons of pure drinking water.

First day ashore - We made this rock ladybug to place in the 'cruiser's shrine' - a tree on the beach where boaters have left memorabilia of their visits.

We were very glad when the winds died down enough on the third day for a quick paddle to shore. The following day we were able to go ashore together and think about heading south to our next anchorage.

Back on the water

Rani was not feeling at all well. Neither of us had been on the water since last April and the seas were coming in nasty short 5 foot lumps, pushed by more than 20 knots of breeze from the north west. Ladybug broad reached across the Sea of Cortez, the windvane steering capably now that we had turned her bow well south of our original course for Santa Rosalia. It's funny how quickly our plans change when confronted by an uncooperative wind. We had both been so looking forward to visiting the nursing gray whales in San Ignacio, intending to leave Ladybug in a marina in Santa Rosalia. Now however, we were bound for a snug anchorage at Bahia San Basilio, much further south. Here, we hoped to wait out the much heavier winds forecast for two days later.

Ladybug in the slings ready to lift. Francisco is the yard manager (standing by  Chris)

Ladybug ready to launch

Slings stuck in the mud under the keel - it took an hour to free her up.

A day earlier we had sailed out of Guaymas after a difficult launch. The launching channel at the marina seca in Guaymas is shallow and, unless the tide is high, when boats are lowered from the travel lift, the launching slings can become trapped under a boat's keel. It took more than an hour and much prodding with poles and hanging over the lifelines to free up the big canvas slings without damaging our new bottom paint job. Ladybug's keel settled into the viscous black mud and we tied her off around supper time to wait for an early morning tide.

Fishermen at sunset off Miramar, San Carlos area.

Before the sun rose the next day, we motored down the channel in the pink haze of pre-dawn. We had light winds most of that day but I was happy to be back on the water and we meandered the dozen or so miles to the Miramar anchorage near San Carlos. We were awakened the next morning by a heavy swell rolling into this anchorage, which made it impossible to sleep. By 11 am, the brisk north west wind that was now driving us toward the Baja had come up without any warning, and we quickly hoisted sail and got underway. The heavy wind caught us by surprise and Ladybug healed over so violently that our newly acquired handheld VHF flew across the cabin, it's volume knob breaking off in the process. We hurriedly put two reefs in the mainsail and later dropped the main altogether proceeding under reefed jib alone.

Patron saint of fishermen?

Rani's malaise was short lived as the Gravol took effect, and after a brief snooze, she was able to take her turn on watch. We sailed on through a moonless night toward a previously logged GPS waypoint that would hopefully keep us clear of the intervening dangers. Before we had GPS, I would not have attempted a night crossing like this with a predicted dawn arrival. Instead, steering only a compass course and estimating our progress via dead reckoning, I would most likely have slowed the boat down or steered further offshore to ensure we avoided the off-lying islands. As it was, even with GPS, our charts for this area were so inaccurate that it was prudent to ensure that we were at least two or three miles from the charted position of the off-lying islands.

San Juanico

Rancho Santa Ana welcome sign made of shells embedded in sandstone

We made landfall around dawn at San Basilio and anchored in the San Juanico anchorage after sailing about 100 miles in less than 20 hours. Despite getting little sleep on the crossing, we knew we had to make the most of our first day here because gales were forecast for the following three days that would probably keep us pinned down on board Ladybug. We inflated our double kayak and paddled over to a nearby beach from which we hiked all afternoon along the shore and over several bluffs to a rancho that lies in a valley a few kilometers away. We returned via a true high clearance road (Rani all but disappeared in the ruts!) and spent the evening preparing Ladybug for the predicted high winds. A 39 foot Westsail had anchored nearby while we were off hiking and shortly after we returned to Ladybug, Kurt and Nancy motored over to say hi. We discussed our preparations for the blow and agreed to monitor 18 on the VHF in case either boat needed help.

Return to Guyamas, Sonora, Mexico

We finally left a cold and rainy Vancouver on January 16th for the warmth of Sonora, Mexico.

Weathered figure head found in Guaymas boatyard.

Our Sunday morning Delta flight to Phoenix had been cancelled but they re-booked us on a direct flight with US Airways. We arrived earlier than expected and the extra time allowed us to pick up our pre-ordered Raytheon depth sounder/knot meter and bottom paint from West Marine.

At the hotel desk, our Alpenglow replacement bulbs were waiting for us, thanks to Debi. We are truly thankful of the great service we received from this company. We had ordered the wrong sized bulbs while in Duncan. When we emailed the company, they offered to express ship the new bulbs to Phoenix, since we were about to leave the island.

Our sojourn in Phoenix was not all fun. Ironically, Chris came down with a nasty stomach bug on our first day there ( we never seem to have this problem in Mexico! ). Whether it was the under-cooked over-easy egg he ate at a local fast food place or contact with a contagious niece a few days earlier, we shall never know, but he was indisposed for the next couple of days. I drove around to buy a few provisions (mainly almonds, ziploc bags, toiletries) and Imodium for Chris!

On Tuesday, he was feeling well enough for a 2 hour drive to Sedona, an artsy little town known for it's healing hot spots near various vortices. We went there to hike in the Coconino National Forest, although Chris could have used some healing!Our first hike was a 4.5 mile loop starting at Cibola Pass via Jordan's Trail, Soldiers Pass and up to Brins Mesa, a perfect 3 hour trek with stunning views. The first portion was an easy walk through a cool forest of junipers and pine with some snow patches in shadowed areas. We passed a large sink hole, The Devil's Kitchen. As we climbed up, the views opened to vistas of the valley and the town of Sedona. On each side of the trail were manzanita bushes, yuccas and prickly pear cacti. We had a picnic lunch at the top of the grassy mesa, looking down into Mormon Canyon and towards our car parked at Thompson Creek.

Can you see the face in the rock?

View at our lunch spot

Since there were still a few hours of daylight left, we drove to a second trail at Doe Mountain. Along the narrow trail winding up the mountain we met a French couple who were also keen sailors and travelers, so we had a good chat before continuing to the plateau at the summit. The sunset views from the plateau were amazing, the red rocks ablaze all around the valley.

Looking east from the top of Doe Mountain near sunset.

On Wednesday, we took the light rail to Tempe, the Arizona Sate University town and walked along the restaurant lined streets, on the campus and beside a man-made lake for a pleasant afternoon.

Our TBC bus departed at 10pm, so we spent a few hours just catching up on emails at the hotel. We had an assortment of 7 bags, including an astonishingly heavy tote bag crammed with stuff that is hard to find in Mexico as well as two cans of copper bottom paint concealed in grocery bags. Unfortunately, we had to change buses at Nogales, the Mexican border town, hoofing our mountain of luggage through customs and onto the second bus. Customs was easy – we traipsed past the traffic light with our luggage and got the green light. I actually had to insist on stopping at immigration to get a 6 month visa while all the Mexicans waited patiently in the bus. The proceeding eight hour ride was a bit bumpy as the second bus was not exactly new, but we managed to sleep some hours.

Ladybug's dust coated deck.

When we treached Guaymas, it was exciting to finally board Ladybug. The thick layer of red dust on her decks was no surprise. Chris wasted no time in hosing her off while I inspected the interior. We had left all the bedding, settees and cushions covered in sheets but there was very little dust and grit. No cucarachas anywhere! All our provisions seemed to have survived the summer, other than the soya, left in a not very airtight jar ( crawling with teeny little insectos !). Our constantly running computer fan and good ventilation had been very effective.

Boatyard waterfront.

Fishing boat awaiting repair. There is a large commercial boatyard next door to our little cruiser's yard.

The boatyard was as busy as ever, ranging from the long-term guys re-building old wooden boats they probably wished they had never bought in the first place, sailors using their boats as condos in a warm place and people like us wanting to leave in a few weeks. We met Francisco and Juan, the friendly Mexican workers who had helped us with our hauling out last year. I also bumped into Barry, off S/V Nutshell, and he offered me a ride to pick up some groceries at Soriana in Guaymas. That meant we could eat something other than sandwiches and restaurant fare.

Chris removes the leaking stainless steel water tank.

Chris watches while Henrick welds a patch on the tank.

We had to adjust to climbing up and down a 12 foot ladder to enter or exit our home. The washroom/shower building is next to our boat, and the state of the facilities would never meet the standards back home. It's BYOTP&S ( bring your own toilet paper and soap )!

Life up a ladder.

Lady's washroom and public library.

Since our arrival, we have been busy making repairs to make the boat ready for our departure this weekend. Chris has installed the new depth sounder and zincs, rigged the sails, re-stuffed the stuffing box, checked the transmission oil and painted the bottom. We also took out our stainless steel water tank, which was leaking from one of the welds and, with the help of a Swedish sailor named Henrick, had it rewelded, patched and re-installed.

What have I done? Not a heck of a lot as most of the work involves special skills or muscle, sadly lacking. I have made several excursions with Kathy and Hal of S/V Airborne into town to shop for provisions and cooked a few curry dinners, including butter chicken which lasted 3 days! The temperature in the cabin usually starts off around 59F in the morning and goes up to around 70F in the afternoon. It is a lot warmer in the sun outside, of course.

Eric and a local crane operator pulling out a mast for repainting and re-rigging.

Internet reception is good on our boat and I actually attended a webinar on Schizophrenia and Psychoses organised by the Royal Pharmaceutical Society of Great Britain while sitting on our boat deck yesterday!

We love our evening strolls along a road that goes past the marina seca towards the naval base as there are lovely sea views towards Guaymas and the other side of the harbour is a wall of craggy mountains.

It's good to be back!

Back to Mexico

Well it has been a long time since we updated this blog and my apologies for this. Rani had some issues with tendonitis that has prevented her from using the computer much and I have just been busy doing non-sailing related things.

Recorder concert at local school

This fall, I played recorder in a local quartet, worked at the university in Victoria as a research assistant, and taught a 3rd year computer science course. I had been warned by several friends that the teaching would be time consuming and boy were they right! When you teach a class for the first time you need to budget for at least 15-20 hours per week to prepare lectures and mark assignments. Some weeks it took closer to 30 hours! We also finished most of the inside renovations on our house and even managed to get married. A 'brief' selection of pictures from before, during, and after the wedding can be found here.

We also did quite a bit of hiking with the Cowichan Outdoors Group and this trip to Mexico will be in stark contrast to our recent recreation.

We fly out of Vancouver for Phoenix in a few days and will then take the bus down to Guaymas where Ladybug awaits us. The plans are modest this season and we will sail south through the islands in the Sea of Cortez to La Paz, across to Puerto Vallarta, possibly stopping at ports north of there en route, then return to Guaymas via La Paz and the islands in May. We are both really looking forward to some sunny warm weather - today we had a foot of snow and the power was out for 7 hours+!

Hardwood flooring and back to the job world

My idyllic life as a house husband came to an end this week. For the past 2 months I have been renovating our house, painting and installing flooring, cleaning, and making lunches and suppers for Rani. The projects are not done, but it's time to earn, what cruisers Lin and Larry Pardey call 'Freedom Chips'. I am back at the CHISEL research lab at the University of Victoria working for the professor who supervised my Masters thesis a few years ago. I will also be teaching a third year computer science at the university on systems analysis, starting in September. Meanwhile, the renovations continue...

After the vinyl flooring was finished, we moved on to the living room and hallway, removing the old paneling in the living room (2 layers of it on one wall!).

Living room exposed drywall. The back of the paneling is quite a nice mahogany like ply.

The walls under the paneling were dry-walled, thankfully, so all I had to do was fill in some unfinished areas and all the nail holes from the paneling. Note the delightful russet coloured carpet and the back of the old fridge.

We painted the living room ceiling (it was stained brown from cigarette smoke etc), the walls (a llight grey green) and the hallway (a lighter shade of the kitchen yellow).

Hallway with new paint and old carpet.

We also painted the living room floors after soaking various spots along the walls with vinegar and hydrogen peroxide to remove cat odours.

Painted subfloor - paint was recycled from an enviro-depot. Walls are painted a light grey green.

I could not find a second hand manual hardwood nailer locally at a decent price and renting an air powered nailer would cost $80 per day, but I managed to find one through craigslist in Winnipeg and the owner posted it to us for a total cost of $70, including a couple of boxes of nails.

The nailer is made in Quebec and is designed for the DIY crowd

because you can strike it multiple times to set each nail. 

The nailer did not come with a mallet, so I taped discs of vinyl flooring to my 2.5 lb pocket sledge hammer and another disc on the nailer face to cushion the blow. It takes me 3 or 4 blows to set a nail and I have managed to jam the thing twice so far, requiring a disassemble to free it up. However it works very well, driving heavy 2 inch nails into the tongue of each board at 45 degrees. The alternative, and what you do when you near a wall is to pre-drill for 2" finishing nails and nail each one by hand, setting the nail in with first the side of a nail set and then its point. 

Chris using the nailer.

Some of the hardest bits are around doorways and entrances. There are 9 of these in the hallway and living room! 3 Closets, 3 bedrooms, a bathroom, and the kitchen and dining room entrances. Each requires undercutting trim so that the flooring will slide under it as well as cutting complex threshold pieces. I picked up a nice old Rockwell table saw to do these longer beveled cuts.

Beveled piece bridging kitchen to hallway. The nails holes will be filled with

putty and the raw wood varnished to match.

The flooring job should be finished by the time Rani flies to th UK to visit he parents and relatives in a couple of weeks.