Hair Washing 101

I never understood those sea salt hair products. I got the opportunity to experiment with “the real and organic” sea salt for two weeks and still don’t get it. My hair is as matted as our cat’s underbelly. I will try to talk our cat into letting me take his grooming appt when I get back to Seattle. I am considering wearing a shower cap every time I go to the cockpit.

Day 7 – Guinness world record in washing hair. The freshwater future on the boat is quite uncertain at this point and I have to get a little creative. How about shooting a useless time-wasting self-absorbed YouTube video? For this procedure, you will need:

A dishpan (the one you just washed your breakfast dishes and it is still slightly slimy);

A gallon of fresh water (you would commit a mortal crime if you used the whole gallon, only for filming purposes you unscrew a cap of a brand-new bottle of fresh water);

A Bob (a lime green rooster-motif electrical kettle from the ’90s which came with the boat and I spent one nice tropical afternoon scrubbing and decalcifying after I apologized to it for calling it “a durnas ugly thing”);

Your favorite shampoo and conditioner (preferably an expensive one but even better if homemade);

A blue Lululemon sports bra (make sure you scrape off the remnants of the banana puke from day 1) and blue running shorts in Mariner’s colors (need to say “Go Mariners!” even if I’m not a fan) to complete my matching ensemble;

A blue matching gel pedicure (blue color to mask bruised toenails from the last sailing trip), even if it won’t show on the video, but one must be primped up for your video;

A quick scan of your armpits for blue towel fuzzies is recommended since my royal blue designer towels leave not very royal and very blue fuzzies. In the armpits to be precise. ;

And lastly – a husband to pour the water down your head. (Make sure to suck your belly in because the camera adds 10 pounds.)

Voila! The result is about two cups of nasty dark soapy water and I emerge with fabulous hair just in time for Valentine’s Day. Do the whiplash move with your head to splatter the rest of the water throughout the galley. “Because I’m worth it”. I will be matt-free for a day or so. Seriously considering doing night shifts in a shower cap to protect my hair from the salty air.

Of course, there is nothing to wear in the closet and I end up choosing a fresh pj top with blue lace to match my running shorts. The guys won’t know and won’t notice that I’m dressed in my best pajamas.

However, Arnaud has a better idea about the whole hair thing in the Northern hemisphere.

Arnaud slaps some sunscreen on his face (the part that’s not covered with facial hair). I tell him that he looks like a Japanese Kabuki performer. He starts dancing and shrieking/ aka singing some improvised parts of the show. His performance is so good that Jim drops the dessalator repair and runs upstairs to make sure we are Ok.

Anything goes on a boat with four strangers in the middle of the Pacific.