Day 2 of the "Move the Boat to MA" Saga

I wake up at my friends' parent's house and know I'll have a long day ahead so I get up pretty quickly. There was coffee made and a quick hello to the friends at the house - still in their PJs. My friend's dad, Jay, who's practically another parent of mine at this point, says "ok. let's figure out what you need" and we head downstairs into the basement/garage. It's hardly 8am. I start with the hitch - it's easy to explain and I'm not great with speaking in the morning. Jay pops it in the vice and gets a wrench. Nothing. So we go to the bigger vice. And a bigger wrench. He almost ripped the workbench out of the wall but he got it loose. We did a swap and that was set. I asked how I was supposed to wrap the tarp around it to drive it home. Turns out I wasn't supposed to put the tarp on. I explained all the rusted bolts. He handed me a hack saw and a ratchet set "just saw them off". I knew he wouldn't lead me astray but that sounded unbelievable. Still I just said "ok" and "thank you". Then we looked at the tail light kit because I didn't understand the connection. Turns out it was because the pack had an extra connection in case the one attached to the car had to be replaced. In 30 minutes all my problems were solved and I had a renewed resolve.

I stopped for a second coffee and some more seltzers and headed back to my nemesis, ready for battle. With new wheels on the trailer I could swing that thing around the driveway with ease. I got to sawing bolts and in moments had sawed off my first rusty bolt. I tossed down the hacksaw and ran a lap around the yard, I couldn't believe it.

And then just kept going. With most of the bolts off, I headed back to the hardware store for new bolts and then got the lights attached. I had hopes that I could use the old wires to pull the new wires through the frame of the trailer. Those hopes lasted all of one foot into the frame. But my overalls have a pocket that is perfect for a fistful of zip ties and I worked my way quickly around the trailer. with that done the trailer was wired, the tongue was reattached, and the hitch with the correct size ball was on my car.

The last piece was reattaching the license plate. It's then that Aunt Alice came by one more time to say goodbye, check on me, and drop off a snack and water. I tell her that I'm basically done. But I'm one bolt shy. And she says something that I will never forget. She said "as your Uncle Michael would have said, 'well that's a bite in the balls'" and it was the best. Because it was so unexpected for her to say, but it was exactly correct. She warned me to skedaddle over because it might close - luckily it wasn't, I got the final bolt, and got it all hooked up. Which was great because just as I was strapping down the boat and putting all the loose stuff in the car, a different realtor showed up. There was an open house that weekend. The place was about to be full of people who were showered and in clean clothes. He and I chatted a bit. He knew my uncle well and so knew the story of the boat a bit. I told him I'd be out of the way soon and he said it was no problem.

I'm all set to go and start to pull out of the driveway - a very tight squeeze between the house the neighbors fence. And the house is full of potential buyers. I get out into the street and there's a rattle. I can't believe it. I was so close. There were people everywhere and I was so exhausted and wanted to just be done. I stayed calm and made an emergency FaceTime and showed Jay. He looked for 5 seconds "it rotates". I found the pin on the front wheel that's in place when the trailer isn't attached to something and rotated it. He and his neighbor have insisted I first drive it to Madison before Massachusetts to make sure everything is ok for the drive so I indulge and start off towards them. 45 minutes later I've arrived and Jay tells me to back it up into the yard. While half a dozen people watch me. This is the first time I'm driving a trailer. This is the first time I'm backing it up. And half the neighborhood is watching (it was may 6 people, but it's 6 people with high standards and enough family love to never let me forget if I'd done it poorly). But I managed in one go and then the boat and my work on the trailer and attaching the boat were looked over. Maybe they forgot who they had been talking to. Maybe they were just excited. Maybe they just couldn't help being dads. Regardless, I pass inspection and get sent on my way to beat the rain moving in.

I make it to Massachusetts in one piece. And back it into the driveway of the garage that is on a hill and has a weird entrance. I just have to get close enough and can wheel it. Turns out a neighbor across the street was watching. She offered help but I kindly refused. I was so done. Done with the project, done with the day, done with people. I was starving, and so so dirty, and so tired, and it was raining. And I thought I could just do it. And then I couldn't get the damn thing in the garage because there was the smallest lip. The woman came back out "I'm sorry. I just can't watch this". I was so grateful in that moment. We all need to learn to just say thank you when help is offered. We got the boat in the garage and chatted for a minute. I got it secured and then climbed up inside. And as if they were really there, my mind could see my Grampy and my Uncle Mike leaning on the bow of the boat, proud of a job well done and ready to dig into a new project. And I broke down and sobbed my heart out for a good long time. I miss them both so much. I gave myself time to grieve a bit. And then sat and reflected on all that I had managed in two days.

I only visited the boat a couple times over nearly two years. It turns out the garage was much, much more damp than I expected. So damp, in fact, that water dripped from the ceiling all over the place. I tried to come up with solutions over an over. But continued to come up empty. Until I didn't.