There are three reasons why I’m back on the road and not on the water. The first came out of nowhere and is financial. I could have solved this with a trip north and a drain of my resources, but I decided not to go this route, although, as you know, I did abandon the boat.
A related issue was my inability to sell the RV. It had problems but nothing that bothered me that much. It bothered buyers, though. I didn’t even get offers.
I can’t go into the other reasons, not right now, except for one.
Gus. The first time I started the boat’s engine with Gus aboard, she immediately jumped overboard in a panic and began swimming in circles. This was a bad sign, but I assumed she’d get used to life on the water.
But it only got worse. Even at the dock I had to chain her up to keep her aboard. She was so uncomfortable that she managed to get out of her collar and bolt; she’d hide in the bushes nearby. I ordered a special collar/harness from Amazon but she beat that too.
Bottom line is that by last week it was obvious that it was my dog or the boat. One had to go. Obviously, it wasn’t going to be Gus. I asked the marina people if they’d sell the boat for me, hoping to avoid throwing good money after bad. I even offered 30% of the sale price, but they were hesitant. Bottom line: I bolted, leaving the boat’s paper work signed to them and a document ceding 50% of the sale price to them, to soften the blow of my failure to pay next month’s slip rental. For reasons I will eventually get into, I could not linger at Smith Mountain Lake.
I was of course thinking that these folks may sell the boat and attempt to keep all the money. They would have all sorts of rationalizations. On the other hand, legally, they would be on very thin ice – I have evidence of the deal I forced on them. If they do sell the boat… I dunno, it would seem they will have, in a de facto way, accepted my terms.
And as it turned out, I finally got an email from them that would seem to mean all is well. They will do their best. I hope they do. I don’t need still another example of human nature.
So we’ll see. I have over $16,000 in the boat and the craft is highly improved from the way it was when I bought it (just the solar array/lithium battery were over $2,000), for about $12k. I know. I drove away from a few bucks, mostly because Gus would have eventually jumped overboard in a place or at a time that would mean the end of her. I couldn’t live with that.
I really wanted to be back on the water…
There will be a bit more on this but here’s how my bolt went – I mean right from the get-go — aside from the engine light flashing event, which you know about. About a half hour out I noticed a noise coming from somewhere in the back. I pulled over and it immediately seemed to get louder.
I’m deaf on my right side, stone deaf. This was from a surfer’s ear operation from the 1980’s, done by a Beverly Hills specialist, paid for by my Writer’s Guild Health Insurance. I of course should have sued the asshole but I didn’t. I had plenty of money at the time and didn’t want to deal with that type of lawyer.
Point being, though, is that I cannot tell from what direction a sound is emanating. Someone yells my name, it’s hopeless kind of thing. I just look around like a jerk. So this buzzing sound, which sounded almost like an alarm, was a real problem. I’d stick my head in the galley area and it would get louder. That’s all I could tell.
I happened across a gigantic RV place – acres of RVs, I mean right to the horizon, a huge blinking ‘RV World’ sign towering over the place. Someone there will zero in on the cause of the buzzing, I was thinking, and here’s wherein lies the humor of this, and why it’s is worth the words.
A very serious-looking middle-aged lady was assigned to my case. She enters the rig, hears the buzzing, but can’t find its source. She was really mystified; the buzz seemed to be increasing in volume and starting to sound downright… well, not good. We both lean in over the galley sink and stove, moving our heads from side to side in unison. ‘See what I mean?’ was all I could come up with.
The lady calls an assistant, a younger lady, who likewise could not locate the source of the buzzing. Everyone who would show up in the next half hour was neatly uniformed, by the way, with ‘RV World’ emblazoned on the back of their overalls and on their caps. Reminded me of the asshole symbol on the backs of Walmart employees, and which was inspired by Kurt Vonnegut’s Breakfast of Champions. (I 100% guarantee that this is the case. I’d bet my life on it.)
‘It’s right here… somewhere,’ the first lady was saying, and it was obvious that this was fast becoming a matter of principle. I mean I’m in a sea of RVs – almost all late model ‘Class A’s in the six figure range, as opposed to my aging, beat up Class C – and if someone here couldn’t locate a goddamn RV buzz, I mean, what would that say about the state of the world?
‘The water pump is back there, right?’ the lady asks, pointing to the back bed, under which is the water tank and pump. She then points to the microwave, shakes her head, mentally erasing it as the cause, then leans over the sink again. More head shaking. She moves some dishes around to see if there is anything under them. There isn’t, but the buzzing changes pitch, becomes more plaintive. She backs up, waving her hands as if to say, ‘I didn’t do anything.’
There is stuff under the sink, and we pull all of it out, although I’d already figured out that the buzzing was not coming from under there; I’m humoring the lady. The younger technician crawls in there, god bless her for trying, but soon backs out, shaking her head.
The older lady steps out of the rig and fires up her walkie-talkie. She turns her back to me but I catch a few words: ‘…what the fuck…’.
Indeed, within minutes two new guys show up, a young fellow and an older guy named… Guy, actually, based on his name tag. Everything about Guy tells you that if he couldn’t find the source of the buzzing… I’d either have to learn to live with it, or whatever it was warning us about would… go off…
Now there are four uniformed technicians in my galley, heads bent. ‘Okay, back up, back up’ Guy says, and everyone gets out of his way. I step outside, wondering if this is all some sort of… sign from above or whatever, a warning that I’m making still another big mistake. (My ‘check engine’ light would start blinking in about an hour, by the way. You all know how that went.)
Well, it took Guy a few minutes to find the source of the buzzing, but he did find it. I’ll include photos of the galley area. The answer is right there in front of you, as it was in front of me.
See if you can figure out what it was. I’ll put the answer in the comments tomorrow.
Allan
By the way, the day after the ‘Check Engine’ light event, I stopped at a truck place to get a wiper blade. The rig would not start. Then it would. Then it wouldn’t. Spent a weekend at a garage, waiting for Monday (yesterday) so the mechanic could look at it. Meanwhile, over the weekend, it started starting again. Who knows if it will quit again, where and when. I will wonder this every time I turn the key…
(The RV buzz people didn’t charge me for their efforts, nor did the 3 day stay at the garage. Good signs?)
Mate, – and anyone else , my advice about vehicle “engine lights” (the mysterious one that tells you to “take it to a mechanic” ) …. go into your dash, find the light bulb/led, and paint it OUT with black paint. My own learnings after 43 years in the Auto Engineering industry. You just need engine oil pressure (light or gauge), coolant temp, and preferably a LOW COOLANT! signal device. Those “engine lights” are the biggest scam misleading pain in the nuts God ever put breath into.