This little post is not much but to remark how simple it can be.
Yesterday, Aug30, I discovered my ancient windlass had stopped working. This really sucks because we love to anchor out. My windlass seems from the era of Wally, the Beaver, Ward, and June. It. Is. Old. And corroded. I've priced replacements, but man are they expensive!
So yesterday, depression took hold. Today, at anchor, I decided to forego depression and look under the hood. Well, well, well. Look who have made my windlass a home but a nest of mud Daubers. Impressive. Must have been rather secure and cozy finishing that nest during my six weeks of boat neglect changing jobs and finishing a second degree. So like The Lord to Sodom, I smited (smote?) the sinners and cast them out!
That behind me, I gave the tired windlass a little love with the grease gun (pervs hold your tongue!!), and worked its tired gears (easy, pervs!) and lo and behold, she came back to life for at least one more run at adventures on the hook!
Ah, praise be Allah, Bhudda, Krishna, or Neptune, the bugger works. My 60 pound plow is really more cross than I want to bear.
Greetings from Rich's Inlet near Wrightsville Beach, hope your day is as happy as mine.