You know when you’ve just done something that you suddenly remember you’re not supposed to do but in a moment of distraction or inattentiveness you’re thrust back to the here-and-now and you know that this will not end well?
I think in this case I can safely blame our frig. Stay with me dear Escapees I’ll show you how this works. It was a hot one here in Grenada so after caulking two hatches that I was informed may be leaking I immediately thought that a cold beverage would be nice. Like a lot of long distance cruisers we use a sodastream soda maker which works well for us but has few but important rules.
Fill their special bottle with water up to the thin wavy line and place in refrigerator to cool. After cooling zap in the bubbly machine, take the bubbly bottle out and SLOWLY add the flavoring only after carbonating. Sounds simple enough.
So after finding the special bottle in the refrigerator frozen solid I thought, well how bad could it be, I’ll just fill up another bottle and viola, soda. It was only after I’d started pouring in the flavoring that I had the OMG moment. I had poured in the flavoring before carbonating the water. What’s the worst that could happen?
The carbonating went well so I started unscrewing the fizzing, vibrating bottle. At this point I’d like to point out that I’d spent the afternoon out in the fierce Grenadian sun caulking hatches, and may have had a touch of heat stroke. All holy hell blew up in my face. The eruption went on for what seemed like minutes. The entire galley was dripping with a surprisingly sweet ginger ale. All the cooking utensils, spices, knives in the knife block, pots and pans, sink, hand towels, nav-station with its baskets full of stuff too good to throw away, binoculars — both pairs, fruit bowl, snack basket, another basket that I don’t even know what it’s for, dining room table, all the stuff that covers the dinning room table, the ceiling and lastly the floor.
My first thought was I’d better clean this up fast before Marce sees this! I think she was already mad at me for something or other. My t-shirt was soaked through and ginger ale was dripping off my eyebrows. There was massive amounts of sticky liquid everywhere I looked.
Just then she poked her head around the corner of the master stateroom and asked if I needed any help. I had to admit, I did. We cleaned and wiped, cleaned and wiped, cleaned and wiped for two or three hours when finally we dragged ourselves into an exhausted and quiet bed.
It was still on the quiet side the next morning when we realized that the overhead hatches in the main saloon were inadvertently left open and this morning’s rain shower probably wasn’t very good for the laptop that was sitting on the dinning room table right under one of the open hatches. I picked up the least lousy laptop and an impressive amount of rain water ran out if it. I have to say that it no longer felt sticky but the rain didn’t help its performance any. No pictures please.