We’ll have to think differently about how we use water on board our boat. No more letting the faucet run mindlessly. Some tips the ladies gave me included minimizing how much water you use to cook pasta or boil potatoes, using canned beans rather than dried (no need to pre-soak them in water), and using salt water to rinse your dishes.
3 – Limited Space
Unless you’re living on a mega-yacht, chances are the kitchen on board your boat will be a lot smaller than the one in your house on land. Limited space means you’re going to have to be creative when it comes to cooking. Remember how I balanced a bowl of cake batter on the ladder leading up to the cockpit? Be prepared to use every inch of space you can find and to move everything to get into the fridge if yours is under the counter like ours is.
4 – Be Creative
Although there are limitations, cooking aboard a boat is also a chance to be innovative. One of the ladies was telling me how much she enjoys having to create something out of the ingredients she has on board. One night, she wanted to make chili, but she didn’t have any onions or ground beef. So she used some onion soup mix instead of fresh onions and opted for a vegetarian version with kidney beans and canned potatoes instead of meat. Her kids loved it.
5 – Things Can Go Flying
While we’ve been living in the boatyard, I haven’t had to worry about the boat moving. But when we’re cooking out at sea or at anchor, things will be different. I’m going to have to remember to be careful about where I set down things. The thought of a knife or a glass flying across the cabin if the boat is rocked by the wake of a powerboat is a little scary. Our gimbaled stove will come in handy. It will swing back and forth with the motion of the boat, keeping the pans and pots level.
6 – It’s Going To Get Hot
It’s always hot where we live in Florida, but while we’re connected to shore power, we can use our portable air conditioning unit. This won’t be possible when we’re out sailing. Everyone has warned me that cooking will heat up the inside of the boat and make it uncomfortable. Using the grill on our deck, eating cold dishes (like pasta salad), or making things that cook quickly will be important when it’s insanely hot.
Although cooking on a boat is different and has its own challenges, I am looking forward to trying out the tips, tricks, and recipes the ladies have shared with me. Provided, there aren’t any rutabagas involved.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you so much for reading my book! If you enjoyed it, I’d be grateful if you would consider leaving a short review on the site where you purchased it and/or on Goodreads. Reviews help other readers find my books while also encouraging me to keep writing.
My experiences buying our first sailboat with my husband in New Zealand (followed by our second sailboat in the States), learning how to sail, and living aboard our boats inspired me to write the Mollie McGhie Sailing Mysteries. You could say that there’s a little bit of Mollie in me.
I want to thank my wonderful beta readers who were so generous with their time, graciously reading earlier drafts and providing insightful and thoughtful feedback: Alexandra Palcic, Duwan Dunn, Elizabeth Seckman, Greg Sifford, and Liesbet Collaert.
I also want to thank Michele Dunn for her continual support and the great idea about being on a “live-it,” rather than a diet.
Some of the adorable dogs who make an appearance in Poisoned by the Pier are based on boat dogs who I’ve met in real life. Chloe belongs to Doug Stephenson and Tina Riley (s/v Amazed), Bob belongs to Ted and Sandy Kearney (s/v Ragtime Gal), and Chica belongs to Phil and Michelle Mavis (s/v Mariposa).
Most of all, I want to thank my husband, Scott Jacobson, for his encouragement throughout the writing process. Not only is he an amazing alpha reader and beta reader, he is also the inspiration behind many of the best bits in this book.
The followers of my blog, The Cynical Sailor, have been a huge source of inspiration. Their kind words and encouragement motivated me to publish my first book and continue writing. I’ve been fortunate to have made good friends (both virtual and in-person) through the blogging community.
As always, many thanks to Chris Brogden at EnglishGeek Editing (englishgeekediting.com) for his keen eye, thoughtful edits, and support. He goes above and beyond the call of duty, for which I am very grateful.
And many, many thanks to all of my readers. Your support and encouragement means everything.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ellen Jacobson is a chocolate obsessed cat lover who writes cozy mysteries and romantic comedies. After living on a sailboat for many years, she now travels around in a teeny-tiny camper with her husband and an imaginary cat named Simon. Her Mollie McGhie cozy mystery series, featuring a reluctant sailor turned amateur sleuth, is inspired by her own sailing adventures and misadventures living aboard sailboats in New Zealand and the States. Her Smitten with Travel romantic comedy series is inspired by her life as an expat in Scotland and New Zealand and passion for exploring new countries and learning about new cultures.
Connect with Ellen at:
Website – https://ellenjacobsonauthor.com/
Newsletter – https://www.subscribepage.com/m4g9m4
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/EllenJacobsonAuthor
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17395138.Ellen_Jacobson
Bookbub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ellen-jacobson
Twitter – https://twitter.com/Ellen__Jacobson
ALSO BY ELLEN JACOBSON
The Mollie McGhie Cozy Sailing Mystery Series
Robbery at the Roller Derby (Prequel Novella)
Murder at the Marina (Book #1)
Bodies in the Boatyard (Book #2)
Poisoned by the Pier (Book #3)
Buried by the Beach (Book#3.5)
Dead in the Dinghy (Book #4)
Shooting by the Sea (Book #5)
Overboard on the Ocean (Book #6)
The Mollie McGhie Sailing Mystery Collection: Books 1-3
The Smitten with Travel Romantic Comedy Series
Smitten with Ravioli (Book #1)
Smitten with Croissants (Book #2)
Smitten with Strudel (Book #3)
A SNEAK PEEK OF DEAD IN THE DINGHY
Chapter 1 – Honey-Do Lists
What would you do if your husband decided to start a YouTube channel featuring your cat? Would you:
(a) Give him a honey-do list because clearly he has too much time on his hands;
(b) Search for a product to tame your frizzy hair in case you end up on camera;
(c) Worry that your cat was going to develop an over-sized ego; or
(d) Start sewing adorable cat costumes?
Option (a) was very tempting. I love creating to-do lists. Doing the tasks on them, not so much. That’s what makes honey-do lists so appealing—you get to assign chores to your hubby while you sit back, relax, and eat chocolate.
If only that was how it worked. Sigh. In reality, both Scooter and I had huge to-do lists already. Neither of us had time to chill out and eat chocolate. Okay, the part about not eating chocolate? A total lie. I always find time for chocolate. Having lots that needs to be done? That’s true. You see, we live on a dilapidated sailboat named Marjorie Jane. We’ve been spending lots of time and money fixing her up, but it seems like a never-ending battle. How that man is going to manage to find time between the boat and his telecommunications business to turn our cat into an internet sensation is beyond me.
There are days when Marjorie Jane makes me want to tear my hair out, which brings me to option (b)—my quest for a miracle product that will make my tresses smooth and silky so that I would be camera-ready. I can’t tell you how many jars, tubes, and bottles I’ve bought from hairdressers over the years. Nothing has worked so far. I probably should resign myself to my mousy-brown frizz. It does a halfway decent job of camouflaging my oddly shaped skull, the result of one too many crashes back in my roller derby days.
Our cat, Mrs. Moto, doesn’t have to
worry about how she looks. She’s a gorgeous Japanese bobtail calico with glossy fur and black markings around her eyes that resemble glasses. While she loves being the center of attention, I wasn’t too worried about (c)—having to deal with a feline diva. So far, her ego seems to be in check, at least by cat standards. After all, don’t all cats already believe they’re the center of the universe since being told they were gods by the ancient Egyptians?
Option (d) was definitely going to happen. Mrs. Moto loved to dress up almost as much as I loved to dress her up. In fact, she had recently won the annual Coconut Cove pet costume competition. Her Princess Leia outfit had wowed the judges. I couldn’t wait to get my sewing machine out and make a little sailor suit for her. Scooter was enthusiastic about the idea. He thought it would be a great look for her debut video.
Which brings me back to this whole hare-brained scheme of his to make Mrs. Moto a YouTube star. Why don’t you grab a beverage and some cookies, and I’ll tell you all about how he sprung this little surprise on me.
There we were, sipping our morning coffee in Marjorie Jane’s cockpit and watching the sun rise over the dusty boatyard. My stomach grumbled loudly. It does that on a regular basis, reminding me that it needs regular feedings. I wasn’t looking forward to breakfast—a piece of whole wheat toast with a poached egg. Yuck. Over the past few months, we had been trying to eat healthier, but there are only so many days in a row you can survive without sugar and bacon. Not necessarily together, but you know what I mean. So when Scooter suggested we go to the Sailor’s Corner Cafe, I was overjoyed. Thoughts of pancakes drenched in butter and syrup made me salivate.
When we arrived at the cafe, I started to walk toward my favorite booth by the window. Scooter grabbed my elbow. “No, not there. We’re going to the meeting room instead.”
“Why’s that?”
He steered me through the restaurant to a courtyard at the rear of the building. “You’ll see,” he said with a mysterious smile.
I clapped my hands together. “Ooh. A surprise! I love surprises.”
“That’s not what you said when I gave you Marjorie Jane for our tenth wedding anniversary.”
“Well, rundown sailboats don’t usually top my list of things I want to be surprised with,” I said. “But I’m sure this one will be great.”
He smiled. “I think you’re going to love it.”
The scent of gardenias filled the air as we walked across the brick patio toward the meeting room. As Scooter put his hand on the door handle, I asked, “Should I close my eyes?”
He furrowed his brow. “Why? That would make it hard to see.”
“But it’s customary,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. “Then everyone yells, ‘Surprise!’ and you open your eyes in astonishment.”
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. There are a couple of steps down into the room. You could trip.”
I opened my eyes and shrugged. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. At least let me guess what’s inside. Obviously, there’s a chocolate cake and—”
“It’s eight o’clock,” he interrupted. “Why would there be cake so early?”
“You’re the one who scheduled my little surprise for the morning. But that’s fine with me. Cake tastes just as good for breakfast as it does in the evening. Let’s see, what else will there be…” I tapped my finger against my lips. “Clowns,” I said decisively. “There are clowns inside too.”
“Clowns?” Scooter spluttered. “Why would there be clowns?”
“Oh, you’re good. Pretending like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” I squeezed his arm. “I almost believed you.”
“Honestly, I’m not pretending.” He pulled open the door. “We’re going to be late. Let’s head inside.”
As I entered the large room, I noted a distinct lack of decorative touches. A large screen was positioned at the front next to a podium and a small table with a laptop and a pitcher of water. Dotted around the room were round tables covered in plain white tablecloths, with notepads and pens at each place setting. No flowers, no streamers, no balloons, and not a single clown in sight.
Scooter pointed at a buffet at the side of the room. “Why don’t we grab a bite to eat before it starts?”
“Count me in,” I said. “Chocolate cake and coffee. The perfect way to start the day.” As I threaded my way through a group of young men talking about microphones and tripods, I wondered why there were people I didn’t know in attendance. Before I could ask about the invite list, Jim Ferguson, the owner of the Sailor’s Corner Cafe, pulled Scooter aside. Jim’s usual appearance always made me think of what Santa Claus would look like if he were on vacation in Florida. A bushy white beard, a portly physique, bright red cheeks, a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and sandals.
While Scooter and Jim were deep in conversation—no doubt making sure all the arrangements for my surprise were in place—I surveyed the breakfast options. Miniature seemed to be the theme of the day. I piled mini quiches, mini pigs-in-a-blanket, mini waffles, and mini muffins onto my plate. Fortunately, the bacon strips were full-sized.
As I reached across the table for a mini doughnut, a familiar voice said, “Maybe you should save room for dessert.” I looked up and saw my friend, Penny Chadwick, holding a fruit kebab. As usual, she was dressed head-to-toe in her favorite color, pink. Even her long blond hair was pulled back with a pink bow.
“Only you would think fruit was a suitable dessert,” I said with a smile. “I’ll be having the chocolate cake instead.”
“It’s a little early for cake, don’t you think?” she asked with that adorable Texan twang of hers.
“You’re right. It is too early.” I pointed at Scooter, who was still talking with Jim. “He’s probably arranging for it to be brought out after everyone has had their breakfast.”
“He is?”
I leaned toward her and said in a low voice, “It’s okay. I know about the surprise party.”
“Surprise party?” Penny cocked her head to one side. “Wait a minute, is it your birthday today?”
“No, not until next month.”
“Then why would Scooter throw you a surprise party today?”
“Duh. That’s what would make it so surprising,” I said. “I have to say, he’s been really clever about it. If you look around the room, you wouldn’t think it’s a party.”
“That’s because it isn’t—”
A voice over the speakers interrupted Penny. “Could everyone please take their seats?” A young woman with neon blue cropped hair and ruddy skin was standing at the podium. “We’re going to start the presentation in a few minutes.”
“Who’s that?” I asked, balancing my plate while I poured a cup of coffee.
“She’s the guest speaker,” Penny replied. “She flew down from New York City yesterday.”
“Guest speaker? That’s kind of an odd touch for a party.”
“I think you might have your wires crossed.” After Penny selected an herbal tea, she said, “It looks like Scooter snagged a table up front. Come on, let’s sit down. I don’t want to miss anything.”
After taking our seats, the lights dimmed. Pictures of sailboats flashed across the screen, accompanied by upbeat music, before fading to a shot of the speaker at the helm of the boat and the words, “Olivia Peterson. Sailor. Artist. YouTuber.” Everyone broke into applause as the lights came back on. Everyone except me. I was too busy deciding which miniature breakfast item to eat first.
“Welcome, everyone,” the blue-haired woman said. “When Alan Simpson asked me to give a presentation, he thought five, maybe ten people would register.” She pointed at a short man standing in the corner holding a camera. He wasn’t hard to miss with his obviously-from-a-bottle chestnut hair. “Alan, it looks like you were wrong. Look at this crowd. What a great turnout.” She pointed at the audience. “Give yourselves a hand, everyone!”
While everyone clapped, I looked around the room. Why didn’t I know half of the people Scooter had invi
ted to my party? And why had he asked Alan to organize a guest speaker? Before I could find out what was going on, she continued. “I’m sure you all already know a bit about me and my background, but just in case you don’t, let me give you a little intro. My name is Olivia Peterson. I recently finished circumnavigating the globe on my sailboat, the Anastasia.”
As the room broke out into applause again, Scooter leaned over and whispered, “Isn’t she amazing? That could be us one day.”
“Circumnavigating? Yeah, right,” I said as I dusted crumbs off my shirt. “Let’s just concentrate on successfully sailing in the Coconut Cove Regatta this weekend before we make grand plans to take our boat any further afield.”
“Shush,” Penny said. “I can’t hear her.”
The young woman smiled and held up her hands. “Thank you, but you should be applauding yourselves, not me. You’re the ones taking the first step toward being a creative entrepreneur by setting up your own YouTube channel.” She motioned at Alan. He approached the podium, held his camera up, and panned the room from left to right. “By the way, Alan is going to be taking some B-roll footage during today’s session, which I’ll be using in my next video.”
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