I hadn't worked at Snettisham for a couple of weeks--one weekend taken to recover from previous Snetty adventures, and the other for Tracy Arm.  I had guests arriving at the end of the month, so I decided to take a couple days off my day job to get some work done.  I had an engagement in town Wednesday night, so ran errands part of Thursday and took off mid-afternoon.  I happened to time the trip with the first significant stretch of nice weather since April and began to consider what painting/staining projects I should attempt.  Two years ago I restained the cabins and applied a glossy clear coat over the top to protect it; the experts at Valley Paint said that if I kept the clear coat in good shape (putting on another layer every few years), I'd never have to stain again.  Well, the clear coat goes on about four times as fast as the stain and is a lot easier to work with so, although the clear coat and stain appeared in good condition as far as I could tell, I figured I may as well keep it that way.  And, the front wall of Harbor Seal did seem a little worn from its greater exposure to the weather.

On the ride down, though (a trip devoid of whales, if I remember right, but with a surprising number of sea lions at the haul out), I began to think that the weather was also exactly what I needed to paint the cabin floors, another hoped for accomplishment for the summer.  I'd painted all the floors several years ago, but they always needed a second coat; only half of the lodge's floor was smooth, the rest of that floor and cabins were rough and hard to sweep, and two of the cabins were an unpleasant dark gray color, which was all that was available at the time.  The paint I use is an epoxy garage floor paint which takes a long time to dry, so this was going to be a multi-day project during which all the furniture in the cabins would need to be sitting outside.  Sunshine is the only reasonable way to do that.  So when I got to the homestead, I wanted to immediately begin prepping the cabins by emptying them of their furniture.  But because I had clear coating in mind, too, I wanted to rinse the outsides of them off, which I didn't want to do once floor painting got underway (since water can work its way inside).  Consequently, the first thing I did upon arrival was spray down all the cabins, dragging the hose through the loop from Cottonwood back to Cottonwood (since I'd forgotten one wall of it the first time).  Then I started moving furniture, first clearing out Cottonwood, Mink, and Harbor Seal (I was desperately looking forward to sleeping in Hermit Thrush that night).  This isn't nearly as hard as it sounds (the sinks and the bunk beds were the most difficult), but there's always more inside than I realize!  Then I swept them out and mopped them on my hands and knees with a big blue sponge mop I'd bought expressly for this purpose.  The idea was that the floors could dry overnight so I could paint them first thing, and have them dry enough for furniture by Saturday night or Sunday morning.  I quit working at 9:30, had a snack, and went to bed.

It was a beautiful ride down

Cailey lays on my lap on the way down

Late lions at the haul ou

At about 8:00 the next morning, Cailey climbed up on the bed, shivering.  Although she's not allowed on the furniture, I made an "alone at Snettisham" exception (especially since she was cold) and covered her up while I dozed a bit longer and got to thinking about my work plans.  I'd originally thought I'd wait until I had help to paint the floor of the lodge.  The last time I did it, I did it alone and, because the couch is pretty hard to move by myself, I painted half the lodge floor at a time.  This summer I thought someone could help me move the couch and other furniture outside and do the whole thing at once.  But the more I mused about it that morning, the more I realized that that was not a realistic scenario.  The floor takes so long to dry that I and my helpful companion would be unable to access anything in the lodge during that time, which isn't a very hospitable environment.  The more I thought about it, the more determined I became to add the lodge floor to the list of my tasks for the weekend. 

So that changed the morning plans.  First I took all the furniture out of Hermit Thrush.  Then, instead of jumping on the cabin floors, I started moving furniture in the lodge.  I turned the couch and tucked it under the picture window and brought everything else forward toward the front of the lodge, making a dog proof barrier with the food shelves, desk, and other items from wall to wall.  This left a narrow passage for Cailey and me to live in the next couple of days.  As I did this, I remembered that the last time I painted this floor I hadn't had enough sealer to fill in all the cracks between the pieces of plywood making up the floor.  So that was the next step.  I dug all the dirt out of them with a nail, then swept the floor thoroughly and mopped it.  In the attic I found the concrete mix for filling cracks, mixed some up in a plastic cup (guessing at the ratio of water to mix, as the instructions were for five pounds of mix, or the entire bag), and started filling gaps.  It delayed everything, but filling those up was a very important step, and I may as well do things right once in a while!  I had to mix a second cup to finish the project, then left the floor to dry. 

While I worked on this, Cailey was down on the beach romping.  It was a very low tide and when she came up to visit early on, she looked terrifying with a solid gray muzzle (maybe that's why molossers have black muzzles) and gray toes from nosing around in one of the creeks.  She seemed thoroughly entertained down there.  Once I looked up to see her cantering like a horse at the edge of the water chasing a flock of crows; a little later she was cantering in the other direction after an eagle.  No bird was safe!

Cailey plays at the water's edge

The nook in the lodge where we slept

Lodge floor with the cracks sealed

At 11:30 I finally got to work on the cabins.  The actual act of painting is usually the easiest of the associated tasks--it's the preparation that's the hardest.  The paint comes in two parts, which are mixed for three minutes, then allowed to sit for another thirty minutes.  I don't remember what occupied me during those 30 minutes, but that may have been when I swept and mopped Hermit Thrush.  One way or another, that task also got accomplished that morning.  I painted all of Cottonwood, cutting in around the walls as I went and being careful to make sure I didn't use more than half of the paint.  When that was finished I started carrying my painting gear to Harbor Seal when I realized that Mink might need more paint than Harbor Seal, as it was originally a gray floor and might need a heavier layer to go to a lighter color.  I thought that since Cottonwood was already a lighter color, I might have more paint left than half, which seemed to be the case when I peeked in the can.  So I turned around and painted Mink, cutting in all the walls first this time.  When I was finished, I had a lot more paint left over than expected, so figured I'd use it up on Harbor Seal (the epoxy paint has to be used right away so it would otherwise go to waste).  Amazingly, and without skimping, I was able to thoroughly cover Harbor Seal, partly because I cut in the walls from the balance of the paint left in the can.  This began to give me good ideas about finishing the floors on this trip.  I only had three cans of paint, so if I used one for each pair of cabins and the third on half of the lodge, I'd have to come back later with a fourth can to paint the lodge (since the leftover paint would be unusable once I could move the furniture onto the newly painted floor in order to paint the other half).  But if I could use the second can to do Hermit Thrush and the back half of the lodge, the third can could paint the final portion of the lodge and I'd be done.

By then it was early afternoon and I'd put in a good half day's work, so I broke for lunch.  The concrete filler in the lodge floor was still wet in places, so I decided to start clear coating the outside of the cabins.  The day was warm and working outside was very pleasant, but the mosquitoes were out in force.  I deeted up thoroughly and had two mosquito coils burning at strategic places around me while I worked.  Being near them made the difference between having a manageable number of bugs and being somewhat overwhelmed.  At one point during the weekend I even held a smoldering coil in one hand while I painted with the other.  First I painted the two sides and back of Cottonwood, then decided that for the rest of the cabins I'd paint the somewhat annoying corners first to get them out of the way, which is what I did to Mink before finishing the same three walls.  At some point I checked on the status of Hermit Thrush and found the shady cabin floor still damp, so I helped it along by wiping it with a towel.  Although I was wearing out, I decided to start clear coating Harbor Seal too to let the concrete filler continue to dry out, so I used up the paint in my tub by clear coating its four corners, one side wall, and the top half of the back wall.  During this time, Cailey hung out on the top porch at the lodge like a good dog, coming to visit me every now and again, but winding up back at the lodge.  At some point in the afternoon I brought her dog bed outside and she laid on that like a good dog.  It was very hot for both of us.

By the time I used up the last of the clear coat in my bucket, I decided I'd better start painting the lodge if I wanted it dry by the time I left (by that time I'd come up with the strategy of painting the front half of the lodge right before I left, leaving it to dry while I was gone).  I had a snack, mixed the paint together, then swept up Hermit Thrush and the lodge floor again before starting to paint.  (After drying, I found I needed to sweep all the floors, in part to pick up the bits of blue sponge left from scrubbing.)  I painted Hermit Thrush first so I could just use the balance on the lodge and get as far as I could.  The edge of the wall where the sink line comes in was still a bit wet, so I painted around that area and I planned to do the same with two of the cracks in the lodge that were still wet with concrete filler.  Starting in the back corner of the lodge, I cut in as I went and put a satisfying, thick coat of paint on about two thirds of the floor.  By then it was 8:30 and I was very worn out; I was so tired and hungry that I put off much-needed bathing in lieu of food and rest.  I'd brought my old Coleman propane stove down from the attic before prepping the floor and kept out a pot and all the cooking utensils I thought I'd need before I painted, so I was able to heat up a can of organic ravioli (yes, they have such a thing) on the porch.  Though the evening was lovely, I then retreated inside where I sat on the couch by the window and ate dark, chili-cherry chocolate and drank wine while I read the best mystery book I'd enjoyed in a long time.  Cailey was grateful to come inside and collapsed in exhaustion, her dog bed taking up much of the free space on the floor. It was pretty cozy.

Hermit Thrush emptied

Newly painted floor

Dinner on the porch

I slept poorly, probably because there was so much light coming in the window next to me (it was two days past solstice).  In fact, I woke up so thoroughly in the middle of the night that I lit the kerosene lantern on the windowsill and read for a while.  Consequently, I slept in a bit, not rising until 9:00.  Though there was plenty of work to do, I first went for my COASST walk, surprised at the volume and speed of the water coursing down the channels at such a low tide.  I wondered if the river was high, perhaps with all the rain water combined with the melt water from the recent sunny weather.  The forecast had been right, the sky clear and the heat rising.  By the time I started clear coating again, I was wearing my tank top over my painting pants and eventually wound up in shorts.  I finished Mink's three walls, then moved to Hermit Thrush and did those.  (I was avoiding the front walls because the porches were covered in furniture.)

At that point I was temporarily out of painting to do; the cabin floors were drying well, but were still tacky.  So I thought of some of the little errands I'd been wanting to do, or wanted to do in preparation for guests the next weekend.  First I took clippers to the paths, snipping back the growth that had crept in from my last visit around the boardwalk, widening the edge of the path to the cabin outhouse, and making a temporary trail around the tree that is currently blocking the path between Harbor Seal and Hermit Thrush.  Then I piled the discarded pieces of metal roofing that I'd cast aside back onto the main stack and cleaned up that area a little bit.  Finally, I gathered some rocks to provide mid-wall support to the shed, and filled in some of the holes that Cailey had dug around it.  Thoroughly hot and sweaty by that time (some thermometers beat 90 in Juneau that day), I stripped and walked (in crocs) to the birthing pool and cleaned off.  Then I cooked quesadillas on the porch and sun bathed for a while.  Cailey was overheated for one of the first times in her life and still hung out on the top porch, even taking a big burl she was chewing on into her dog bed.

After that, I clearcoated the bottom half of the front walls of the first three cabins (as far as I could comfortably reach without a ladder), then the entire front wall of Hermit Thrush, since that porch was not nearly as crowded.  Then I fixed Mink's sign where one of the screws used to secure it had gone right into the center of a knot and stuck, which I discovered when I managed to pull the sign off, leaving the headless screw sticking out.  I'd tried clipping it off with clippers, sawing it off with a hack saw, and unscrewing it with a wrench and pliers, none of which made any dent.  I finally decided I'd have to simply hammer it into the wall, that ugly mess to be permanently covered by the sign.  Thankfully, a couple blows of the hammer were all it took to break it off entirely and I was able to secure the sign.  Back at the lodge, the floor had dried enough to walk gently on, so I used the miter box sitting on the back door porch to cut the final piece of trim for the back corner (I'd run out of trim the last time).  I thought I'd better do that before putting all the furniture back!  I secured that and also nailed in the end of the floor trim that had been hidden behind the desk.  Finally, I swept and mopped the floors and bench of both outhouses, figuring I could use some of the ample leftover floor paint for them, both to spruce them up and to protect them better, since they get a lot of traffic and were starting to wear.  Dinner was chili cooked outside, them more wine and chocolate.

Cailey takes her burl to bed

Sunny lunch

Cailey is exhausted

I slept better that night, but became alarmed when I woke up and looked out the window to see a high tide.  Since it had been low tide in the mornings, I was worried that I'd slept too late (since I had a lot to do that day), but a glance at the watch indicated it was only 6:00 am.  Well, I was awake, so I thought I'd better get to work.  The first thing I did was to sweep out the first three cabins (they'd accumulated some debris from having the windows open), and return all the furniture inside, putting them all back together again.  Then I realized that I needed to get to work on the lodge, as I had to move the furniture before I mopped the floor, which had to dry before I could paint it.  Since I had a nice, newly painted floor, I took much more care moving the furniture back, in some cases taking lots of items off shelves before moving them so I could pick them up easier.  This was a time consuming process, but I eventually got everything off the unpainted portion of the floor, then swept and mopped.  I had just about worn that mop out with my rough floors!  While that dried (first swabbed with a towel to help it out), I finished clear coating the first three cabins, put Hermit Thrush back together, and installed the blue rug from Hermit Thrush in Harbor Seal (since the rug had been mostly for Nigel and Hermit Thrush is now largely taken up with the queen sized bed).

The painting itself went quickly.  I was really worn out by then, and achy from bending over all weekend, and I was really looking forward to being done.  After the lodge I added some touch up paint to some stained areas that were showing through close to the doors of Mink and Harbor Seal, then painted the corner of Hermit Thrush I'd left undone, then hastily painted both outhouses, watching the afternoon tick by.  Finally, I used some of the last paint for the cracks in the lodge, now a pale gray color that denoted their dehydration.  It must have been 3:00 by then, and I'd wanted to leave earlier and no later than 4:00, so I hustled around getting the lodge in reasonable order, taking the time to sort through and organize some of the tubs of items sitting around, ultimately eliminating some of the excess ones.  I'd swapped out a small two-shelf unit where the chain saw used to sit for the card table (underutilized) in Harbor Seal and put it between the desk and the food to function as additional counter space and, well, a card table as needed.  While working in the lodge I repeatedly stepped onto the wet paint over the cracks and had to repaint them from the paintbrush I repeatedly repeatedly retrieved from the trash.

So I washed the dishes, packed up, and headed down to the water.  I'd noticed the wind pick up in the afternoon, which always feels ominous, and I worried that I'd be punished for my nice weather with a strong northerly through Taku Inlet.  By the time I started kayaking to the boat, however, I began to realize that this must be a southeasterly.  There were genuine 12" swells coming in from Gilbert Bay and Cailey had to balance extra well and I had to kayak extra hard to get to the boat.  The seas were roaring in Gilbert Bay, which is usually pretty calm even when there's a southeast system, which did not bode well, and I then encountered tight, two foot swells around Sentinel.  Swells of that size and intensity that far into Snettisham only means one thing: it was really kicking up in Stephen's Passage.  I turned on the handheld and started listening to a patchy refrain of weather.  At that point I knew I wasn't going out there, but I wanted to hear the forecast.  After several minutes of bobbing into the seas, the reception cleared just before the marine forecast started over again in Frederick Sound.  With four foot seas there, it didn't sound too ominous, but then it got to Stephen's Passage: "small craft advisory; seas five feet."  Yep, I wasn't going to have any of that, but they were calling for three foot seas starting the next day.  So I turned tail and took what must have been a very confused dog back to the homestead and reanchored the boat.  The sky had turned overcast and the wind roared.

The last sign up	One cabin floor painted	The front of the lodge floor painted
Everything moved to the back part of the lodge	Wild irises growing in the meadow	Small seas in the inlet

I tried and failed to get a satellite phone signal, and even my SPOT messenger failed to send a message.  I'd long before decided that if I was weathered in there was no way I was doing any more work that day!  I was in the middle of a thoroughly engaging mystery novel (Sacred Clowns by Toni Hillerman) and I had a box of wine to entertain me.  Unfortunately, I had no way to access the wine.  I'd locked both doors to the lodge, as is my usual custom; I always assumed the back door used the same key as the front door because I couldn't remember ever having a key to the back door, but this, of course, turned out not to be the case.  And there was about 10 feet of wet paint between the front door and everything I wanted.  So Cailey and I holed up in Cottonwood, the only cabin with no wet paint.  I lied down on the sleeping bag and read while she collapsed in exhaustion on the rug.  It was actually kind of fun to relax and see what it's like to be on the inside of one of my guest cabins! 

I don't know how long we lounged around, but eventually I decided to check out the status of the lodge.  It had been at least six hours drying and felt only slightly tacky to the touch, so I took off my shoes and socks and leaped across the floor, slowing only enough to slam the door behind me to prevent Cailey's entrance.  I didn't damage the paint at all and now had access to everything I needed through the back door.  I invited Cailey in, stir fried the squash and carrots that I'd neglected to eat all weekend, and ate soft tacos while finishing my book on the couch.  It was all pretty cozy and, I have to admit, I wasn't too broken up about weathering in.  That night I exhausted my laptop's batteries writing the Tracy Arm trip report and went to sleep. 

I made no special effort to get up early.  We headed out around 10:00 or so and I was troubled by a good chop in the entrance to the port.  I seriously considered turning around several times, but every time I stood up and looked around, I felt better, and the forecast was still calling for three foot seas.  I beat my way out of Snettisham and watched the seas lay down the farther I got; we had a reasonable following sea all the way home.  Cailey seemed to be a little fed up by the time we entered the channel, having slept most of the way, and climbed up onto the passenger seat, then onto my lap, then sat back on the passenger seat after I pushed her off!  We made it back to the harbor around noon.