I am in my own Desert Storm here. The mighty air hose nozzle screams and roars as it shoots those glass particles against the hull. Inside it sounds as if a brigade of middle eastern terrorists is mounting an assault and will break through walls any minute.
Until two days ago, Craig and Harold were attacking below the waterline but now they are up to the engine room and living quarters level so it's getting nasty. The "sand" is coming through the portlites. These apertures are recessed ten inches inside the hull so Craig, the "gunner", has to direct the jet stream at sharp angles of contact to blast off the old paint. He must direct stream around the windows with great care to avoid breaking the glass. With one hand he places a rubber shield in front to the glass to try to protect it. Initially, Harold, inside, opened the portlites to swing the glass window up and away from danger. He covered the opening with plastic and cardboard but the powerful jet spewed granules inside. I was absent when they first attacked through a portlite, but I was here today and helped Harold defend the castle. We learned as we went, and by the time Craig got to the third portlite, we had almost completely turned back the enemy.
I spent an hour yesterday sweeping and vacuuming in the engine room and today more of that there and then into my stateroom. Yikes! And even after vacuuming in those areas, I am losing the battle in other rooms. The granules get tracked around and there is serious "dust" everywhere. Were I anything close to a fastidious housekeeper I would be insane. (My sister Carol would be the first to laugh were the words "housekeeping" and "Lynn" used in the same sentence.)
The siege will become more intense when the men start blasting up on the next level near the doors, two of which are sliders so don't seal tightly. But Desert Storm did end finally, so there's hope for me.
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