Honey the golden retriever naps in the cockpit of Meander.

Oh no, this is going to be one of those posts. I think I'll take a nap.

I’d Rather Poop Like A Dog

September 1, 2015 // by Pamela

Warning: Today’s post is disgusting, hopefully funny, and definitely filled with too much information.

Please be advised that its content may be too much for people with delicate sensibilities. If that is you, please leave now and come back later in the week for cute dog pictures and happy stories.

For the rest of you freaks, here is why I’d rather poop like a dog.

Poop Is Easy For Dogs

Honey woofs. I grab her leash and take her outside.

Once there, I say, “find a spot.” Honey does her business. I scoop it up in a bag that I then flush in the toilet or toss in a dumpster.

See? Easy peasy.

Thanks to her good diet and excellent digestive system, it doesn’t even smell too bad.

Poop Is Easy For (Some) Humans

You might be wondering what the big deal about pooping is. After all, modern sanitation in the developed world separates humans from their leavings quickly and efficiently.

Even people with septic tanks can rely on companies to flush out their tank quickly and easily (although it’s not always a perfect process; as a tween I was traumatized while standing behind my house’s glass storm door when someone in the septic company flipped the wrong switch, showering our entire house with shit).

But poop isn’t easy if you live on a boat.

The Marine Head Is Your Friend

Life aboard is great.

Imagine cool breezes flowing through the cockpit. A sundown cocktail in your hand. Ahh, that’s the life.

But there’s a reason only a small minority of people move aboard boats.

It’s the marine head (toilet). I swear it.

Marine head on a Beneteau. — This is in a boat about 6 feet longer than ours. So yes, it’s much roomier than our head.
But ours is prettier.

Here’s how it works.

Imagine you really need some relief.

First, you open a valve that allows seawater to enter. Then you pump a handle several times to bring water up into the bowl. You do what you came there to do. And then there’s the matter of toilet paper.

Some boaters insist everyone toss their used tissue into a bag which is then thrown out with the garbage.

Marine head. — A marine head on a much bigger boat than ours. Note the conveniently placed trash can for used paper.

Others take their chances. But they use the tiniest piece of the thinnest paper in the world, preferably torn into pieces first to aid in moving it through the plumbing.

Now it’s time to pump the waste out of the bowl.

You may need to switch the valve so you don’t bring more water into the bowl. Then you need to pump, pump, pump until you’re certain all the waste has moved out of the pipes and into the holding tank located somewhere nearby.

Finally, you close the valve so no more water enters the boat and you’re done.

Do you understand why you so rarely see fat sailors? It’s because they avoid eating whenever possible and when they have no choice, they burn off all the calories pumping out the head.

Large marine head. — Another marine head, also from a much larger boat than ours.
And yes, lots of boaters leave little instructions for their guests. Because no one wants to rebuild a clogged head.

Are you starting to understand why I’d rather poop like a dog?

Wait. Because it gets worse.

How Do You Know When Your Holding Tank Is Full

Learning to live aboard a boat full-time has a steep learning curve. Everything is harder than it is on land. And some things that you must remember on a boat, don’t even happen in a land-based home.

One of those is keeping track of when your holding tank is full.

You have to figure out how long it takes the number of people aboard your boat to fill it and then arrange to pump it out before it gets too full.

How do you know when it’s full?

Well, from personal experience, first you smell an odor that is cruel death. It makes your eyes water.

And when you think it was an odor produced by your husband, you reconsider inviting him on this little adventure and even question the past 26 years of marriage.

Then you notice that your sheets and blankets are wet. And stinky.

Yep, the holding tank is under the front berth. Where we were sleeping. And which has now overflowed because it was too full.

Thank DOG For Motels

Okay, the holding tank is full. We just have to motor the boat to a pump out station and get it taken care of.

Except we don’t have the ownership papers yet for the boat.

It’s one thing to move our stuff in. It’s another to take it off the dock.

So there’s no way to take care of this until we get the bill of sale which should be around 2 p.m. today.

Luckily we found one, count it, one, motel that allowed dogs. It’s over 30 miles away from the boat.

But it’s clean and cheap and has hot showers and flush toilets.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh.

Meanwhile, the boat is locked up with only two ports open for ventilation while everything we own is absorbing the fetid smell of feces, urine, and salt water in a concentration more deadly than James Bond on a good day.

Good times. Good times.