Last week we went to the MVD in Los Alamos to title and register the boat and trailer. I sat inside knitting, and Tim sat outside in the car with the boat on the trailer, for more than an hour. When my number "38" finally popped up, I handed the clerk all my paperwork. He shuffled thru it all and hmmd a bit and twisted his face and then asked me "Where is Tim?" I said, "Outside in the car." Well, he needed to see him because we had variously filled in his name as Tim and Timothy and Timothy A. and Tim A. We had to go get a form notarized showing that all of these Tims are one and the same Tim. Snore. So we did that. We returned to find the clerk circling the boat and trailer with a quizzical look on his face. He couldn't find the VIN number on the trailer. Which meant that the process could not continue. What do we do if there is no number on the trailer? Because there wasn't. Just a sun-faded plastic sticker that obviously used to have the VIN number on it. He told us we had to go the State Police for an inspection. He didn't know where the State Police do their inspections. Nor did he know how to arrange for one. But he did know that it wasn't worth looking at the boat, or at the trailer lights that Tim had laboriously just made functional. We couldn't advance one step farther without the trailer's VIN number. So we drove back down the hill to our house with the boat in tow. I called the State Police only to find out that the next available appointment is January 22. The State Police would likely assign us a new number if they found no number on the trailer. All of this despite the fact that I have a sheaf of documents that show what the VIN number is. I got off the phone and Tim said, "I think we should get a set of metal punches and emboss the number on the trailer and go try a different MVD." A little searching on the internet showed that other owners of 1980s vintage Highlander trailers have had the same problem--and resolved it the same way. We'll see what happens this week with the registration.
We rigged and derigged Valdesca a couple times this weekend to make sure we have everything we need and know what we are doing. We don't want to look like a couple of yahoos upon arrival in Baja. Pete and Jane came up on Sunday and we crawled all over the boat evaluating the functionality of this or that and pondering upgrades. We decided not to rig the new sails just yet. We'll go with the old ones to start with. Tim, the guy whose sailing experience amounts to 15 minutes on a sunfish, figured out how to rig the whisker pole. Pete and I couldn't figure out if it was for the jib or the main. Or how to afix the end of the pole to the sail. Tim said, "What about that slantwise pocket in the clew of the main?" Duh, Gilbert. Then, he said, "And I think the end with the yoke goes partway up the mainmast so that the pole is at the same angle as the pocket." So much for experience. In short order, mark my words, Tim will be the Skipper and I will be Gilligan.
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Lee is checking in.
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