Hanging The World

For years and years, we had a small inflatable globe aboard. It was a $6 impulse buy from a toy shop along our route, and you could tell. Place names were frequently misspelled, and colour fills didn't always match their intended borders. But we had drawn our route on the globe, and it was fun to twirl and look at where we had been.

Alas, our $6 globe was only $6 worth of robust, and developed a leak. It was now a sad deflated thing, sitting in a corner and waiting for me to consign it to the Great Map Collection in the Sky.

And now I can.

In preparation for leaving Pluto and heading for Indonesia, we ordered nautical charts. Although we mainly navigate with our electronic charts, we always keep a paper log as we go and mark our progress on a paper chart. (We know far too many people who have lost all their electronics in lightning strikes not to have a backup plan. Plus we like kicking it old school.) And while were in our local chart store, the girls and I found some laminated world maps. "Perfect!" I thought. "Time to replace globey." Into the pile it went.

The map came home. The map waited. We cranked through our job list. Then, one exciting afternoon after I helped Erik to run three metres of wet exhaust hose for the diesel tank through an inaccessible space, I was ready for a treat.

"Don't you want to help me wire the new inverter?" came Erik's muffled voice from his favourite spot under the navigation desk.

At least it isn't the bilge.

"Mmm, so tempting," I said, clutching my map, "but I have a job to do."

I carefully unrolled the map on the cockpit table and drew in our route. "Chesapeake... Florida... Guatemala... Galapagos... Tuamotus... Tonga..." I muttered to myself as I moved the red Sharpie along the map. "Cairns. There." I held it up, proud of my handiwork. "Now. Where are we going to hang you?"

Oh.

As I've mentioned, every available surface, every nook and cranny, every bent-back hidey-hole inside every nook and cranny gets used on a boat. You have to. There is no way we could stow six months worth of food and supplies if we weren't ruthless with our space.

But what this means is: we have no large blank walls.

At all.

I tapped my chin. This was defeatist thinking; surely there was some place that would work. So I went on a treasure hunt.

Nope. Not in the v-berth.

Not on the forward locker.

Not on the toy bunk.

Not even on the ceiling.

Right, the floor. Great idea, Amy.

By now, I felt like I was living in Green Eggs and Ham:

I will not wrap you 'round the wall,

I cannot put you in the hall.

I cannot hang you on the door,

I will not leave you on the floor.

I cannot hang you here or there,

I cannot hang you anywhere!

I cannot hang this cursed plot,

I simply cannot find a spot.

My photographer was getting tired of my antics, so we took a break to do today's activity from her Ancient Egypt book.

 

Pharaoh Indy

 Mentally refreshed, we kept trying.

No, I might need to get into those galley cupboards someday.

Erik probably wouldn't appreciate me covering his tool bench.

Not even the small hallway works.

Come on, not even in the girls' room?

Anywhere???

Thoroughly depressed, I took the map on deck. But wrapping it around a dorade didn't make me feel any better. 

Sigh.

I carefully unrolled the map by the windlass. "Is this what you want?" I asked. "The open air? Serious uv damage? Delamination and salt water?" Poor map. It wasn't its fault. I'd bought the smallest map the chart store had, and it was still too big.

Sigh, this time with emphasis.

And then the lightbulb went on.

For ages, I'd wanted to turn the second upper bunk in the salon into a hangout for the girls. For months it had been our go-to junk pile - always full of beach shelters, umbrellas, printers, boogie boards, and the other assorted detritus of our lives that we couldn't be arsed to put away properly.

Well, today I was going to be arsed.

I tidied the bunk. I enlisted the Pharaoh's help to bluetack the map to the wall. A few pillows later and voila. The girls moved in faster than rats on a jar of peanut butter.

The junk bunk is clean, the girls have a comfy place to read and the map fits.

It's a perfect day.

I'd better see how Erik is getting on with the inverter.