There
used to be a time I floated around the Mediterranean and the Isles of
Great Britain on a small and leaky wooden Clinker boat. Pegged along
the aft safety lines would usually be an assortment of rags. Some
were my clothes, some tea towels and some rags. All ultimately became
rags in time. It was argued by some, that this time had long since
come; I simply chose to wear some.
On
an old wooden boat there never needs to be a shortage of rags; to dry
the bilge and oil sodden hands upon. Having coaxed a recalcitrant
engine back to life or the almost constant struggle to keep two
mutinous bilge pumps and float switches functioning, a cloth must
always be to hand. In dire circumstances when a few remnants had been
lost over the side and I was elbow deep in grime, an old holey
t-shirt would be grabbed and the rag pile replenished.
So
what's changed? Our boat though not wooden, has many of the
hallmarks. We're blessed with grubby bilges, plenty of varnishing to
do and an intractable engine necessitating plenty of time nursing it
to servitude and cleaning up afterwards. My t-shirts are still
purchased from charity shops and worn until bleached by the sun and
decayed by sweat they fall apart. I still very much dress in rags but
riches are now ours. Since Ravi recently hit the 8 months mark some
of his nappies are starting to be too small, to fade, fray and rip.
Yes, we're now becoming rich in rags.
We've
become nappy origami pros. Our arsenal consisting of different outers; some bought and some homemade, different folds, fabrics
and sizes to suits different occasions. Most we bought whilst in Fiji
from the supermarket where they were cheap and still the norm. Some
are made from a bumper pack of microfibre rags bought in New Zealand
and some are made from cut up and hemmed towels. Adorning the safety
lines as they flutter in the breeze are always an assortment of
nappies.
The
very notion of disposable nappies horrifies us. Of course they are
not degradable, so can't be thrown over the side. Imagine a week or
two's supply of soiled nappies festering in a cockpit locker,
stinking. Then imagine trying to find a receptacle to put them in.
Who would be willing for us to use their bin for this? Then they
either get carted off to landfill to not fully degrade or blow about
littering the beaches and scarring the countrysides we visit, where
people are struggling to cope with their new found 'conveniences'.
We're constantly trying to reduce, reuse and recycle so this was just
not an option.
When
water is short we sometimes wash them in salt water then do a final
rinse in fresh. We've heard from a couple with a similarly young
stowaway who have had the forethought to sew button holes in their
nappies. Now they can be dragged along whilst on passage then raised
aloft where the spray can't soak them. Since we've fixed our third
water tank, water is often available onshore and it rains here
enough, we find we need to use less detergent and heat by using
fresh.
Because
we're changing him frequently and only use water and cotton wool to
clean him, Ravi has never suffered from nappy rash. There's no doubt
it's pretty time consuming but with all the washing, our hands have
never been so clean.
As
Ravi grows older we're already starting to reap the benefits of
learning when its time for him to go; often catching him before its
too late. If we stick him on the toilet at an oportune time we are
frequently rewarded. Cloth reared children tend to grow out of
nappies when it's time sooner than those using disposables. I think
its the advertised lock away pockets that does for them. When finally
that day happens we will be truly rich in rags.
