Category Archives: boats

Lost Comm

adventure, boats

…aviators jargon for communication interruption.  There are procedures which  must be followed in the event of lost comm for safety of flight and search and rescue. 

Sailing across the Gulf of Mexico with our delorme inreach we dropped of the face of the earth; or so it appeared to those following our progress back home. Normally our sat comm device would relay our geo coordinates every 2 hours posting a bread crumb trail to a web based map. We had the ability to send|receive 160 character text messages too and although it appeared to us that our mapping and messaging was functional outbound as it had been for several days since the beginning of our trip, we began receiving unusual inbound messages such as: “okay you guys, if we don’t hear back from you by 6pm we are calling the Coast Gaurd!”

No, something was amiss. I’m sure it was a problem at delorme; an IT desk unmanned; it was the Memorial holiday weekend… At the time however we were thinking the problem was on our end. We tried a soft re-set (turning it off and then on again) which is usually restorative. No change. Drilling down into a settings menu we found another option — RESET the device. Without much forethought we executed which turned out to be unfortunate. Our device was wiped clean on top of which the startup prompt was requiring a re activation through the delorme.com website. Ooops.  How could we possibly!? 

As it so happens, and news to us, there is a cellular network in the Gulf. In fact, it was one of the first (27 years ago) and quite expansive (100,000 sq. miles). Looking anxiously at my cell phone and where you would expect to see NO SERVICE, we were several hundred mile from land after all, I saw posted an unusual: NO NETWORK accompanied by 1 or 2 bars. I phoned home matter of factly, and panic defused, described how to jump start our dead device. Back in business. 

We soon sailed beyond this phantom cellular signal, grateful that it had saved the day minimizing the  stress and anxiety for all concerned. Astonishingly, Roaming Charges have yet to appear on my monthly statement. 

mal de mer

adventure, boats

Somewhat unpleasant, it affects some people more than others. With concerns, as I was always the one in the SaturdaySki Bus who usually succumbed, I found out a few things. 

The nervous system when receiving conflicting inputs from eyes, inner ears and other sensors triggers a reaction one and the same, believing that the body has injested poison.  God bless it.  

The body has adaptive powers, thankfully and the queasiness eventually dissipates or so they encourage. In my case, and this is considered par for the course, about 48 hours.  I tried using a Prescription Scopolamine transdermal patch behind the ear which seemed to help somewhat but the honest cure is to endure.  The body becomes used to and adjusts to the motion. On day 3 offshore, I had my sea legs finally. In fact I could perform normal task like reading or galley work without concern. 

At one point I faced an advanced real test: Our boat, assuming a significant angle of lean while on port tack spilled the contents (gravity rules) of a bookcase shelf on the high side clear across the saloon to the other. That would be our beer bottle(s) meant for celebration at journeys end… (Don’t Drink WHILE Boating) and some of them were smashed during the crashing transfer. It was middle of the night, cabin lights dim, and imperative that the broken shards be disposed of. The space reeking like a frat house on a Friday Night, was hot and humid and still halfway on its ear – –  motion on. Since I had improperly stowed the goods I took to the mop up and survived the ordeal. It was after task that I realized that I hadn’t been phased. 

So there’s hope for those of us who don’t automatically take to seafaring. BTW, when Calling to Neptune over the side. Direct things well away or at least be ready with a wash sown bucket follow up. The contents of ones stomach reacts with the [fiberglass] gel coat and it’s a bitch to buff out after the fact!

A deeper look

boats

After enduring the infamous squeak, I decided to open up the steering pedestal to check on things. The backstory is that on about the 2nd or 3rd day at sea,  our cockpit steering pedestal developed a faint squeal as the steering wheel rotated one way or the other. The autopilot (which did a terrific job BTW) always makes small course corrections so the wheel is constantly sawing left and right. The autopilot sensitivity you might describe as fidgety. Metal on metal could accelerate failure. We lived in the cockpit — and the noise began to wear on our nerves. It had the sound of a small dog whine or whimper. Was it getting louder or were we now keen and focusing? 

We just assumed that we would have to live with this for the duration although we did consider exploratory repair but quickly rejected the notion. We didn’t want to mess around with our steering offshore. It’s kind of a critical item. But we did hear an excellent suggestion from [Mom] a communique reply shoreside. We didn’t have any WD-40 or similar penetrant onboard but something we had in our food provisions might work. Try Extra Virgin Olive Oil she said… Brilliant! 

After a few attempts we managed to wick the slippery substance between the shaft and its pedestal bearing. The squeak was diminished if not remedied outright.

Meanwhile afterword dockside I decided to have a peak at the internals; which I was unwilling to do before. The compass binnacle has to come off for this inspection and as I found out, so does everything (nav course plotter) above that. I discovered that I needed a Security Torx Bit to allow for removal. It was rather an effort so I can assume that it hadn’t been done as a matter of routine. I applied a dab of lithium grease to the chain and sprocket and tightened the set screws on the collar that acts as a thrust washer. 

It is good to know the inner workings and have understanding (and the right tools for next time). The annoying steering is cured but if you listen carefully when playing back a video shot during the trip you can almost hear…

beyond chafe

boats

Observed a heavy bronze jib sheet block that was in a state. Going forward with a hammer to beat on it to coax the bearing pin back into place when we noticed that the line was somewhat worse for wear. Chafe is damage caused by rubbing and as you might imagine with all of the motion and commotion on a vessel there is lots of potential. You have to guard against and inspect anything that has repetitive movement.
jip sheet chafeThis bit of rope is beyond chafe and I was fearful of sitting next to the associated  winch grinder when it was loaded. There is considerable force created by the very large sail that it is sheeting in. The tail end would recoil into the cockpit had it parted.

Specification: 9/16″ (14mm) double braid polyester with a 2.4% stretch @ 15% breaking strength of 11,000 lbs.

The entire length will be replaced.

Wrecked at the Finish Line

adventure, boats

After 4 (uneventful) days offshore, we motored the arrival for the last mile or so in late afternoon sun. The desire was to find and secure our berth in the marina before losing the light.  In this pursuit we were on track and feeling good about all that we had accomplished during our long sail. Fenders deployed, mooring line pre-rigged; we eased past the last channel marker before turning in. The marina is very tight quarters for maneuvering and with a light skiff with outboard coming out of our lane I needed to delay in order to allow him to exit. Selecting neutral and then reverse was the proper action but then surprise. Ineffective reverse. Transmission problem? Our trajectory is aiming us at a transient catamaran moored to a side dock and we are still making way. Reverse gear is making a dreadful sound and although speed is next to nothing we bounce off of the cat. About to ricochet off the fuel dock behind us I select forward gear and surprise, it too is gone. How could this happen? We were all good for days and then at this critical juncture — hell handed to me in a hand basket. How can this be? This was not the grand finale I foresaw.

IMG_3014

[damage: apart from my pride — this crease in a shroud turnbuckle on the other boat]

So, a glorious conclusion was not to be and instead turned into a story to tell. Luckily there was neither wind nor adverse current and having rubbed up against the fuel dock and with the very limited propulsion, I was able to get a line on and secured. We called it a day and spent the night. I just needed to check one thing. I stripped my shirt, and donned a skin diving mask and went over the side. I wanted to have a look at the prop and discovered that there was nothing wrong with the engine or transmission…

IMG_3042
[fishnet encounter]

The prop was fouled. Evidently the netting debris had wrapped up on the shaft and aft of the prop blades but when reversed slid forward to tangle and gum up the works. Too big a job for my Leatherman, to deep, dark, and I can’t hold my breath that long, a Diver was called and he cleared the mess that you see here.

Who would know? The takeaway is check your brakes (reverse in this case) before entering the traffic pattern.

One hand for the ship, One for Yourself

adventure, boats

I had heard this old adage. I knew it. I learned it (again) the hard way. I had made my way aft and arrived at the port side winch which had my full attention. Knees were fully bent in the squat position and balancing on both feet. At the same moment that I reached out for the jib sheet the boat rolled. My hands came up with air and I tumbled over backwards feet out in front. Hard corners of the companionway hatch met the back of my scull with a wallop,
18772155400_e66c575bb6_nthat I won’t forget…and neither will my crew — imagining various recovery scenarios and outcomes!

Hardheaded that I am, I knew I was okay. Only the scars remain.

Lesson learned: …which may derive from the days of sailing ships, when working high in the mast rigging and before the advent of modern safety harnesses; it was an essential precaution that each sailor should hold on with one hand at all times, while working with the other.

This gave rise to the idiom “one hand for yourself, one for the ship” This saying remains excellent advice.

 

Sorting the Tankage

boats

Talmid, our Hans Christian 38, has a small diesel auxiliary which is supplied fuel by two ‘black iron’ storage tanks. One (60 gallons) is located port side forward of midship. The other (85 gallons) is starboard and located beneath the aft quarter berth. They have separate fill ports and are not interconnected but are linked at a valve manifold so as to supply the engine depending on which source is selected.

The forward fuel tank had not been used for several years. All that I knew was that this tank was empty with no trace showing on a screw cap dipstick. The previous owner had explained that he never used the tank. Since I intend to voyage beyond the Bay I need to have this reserve range. It would serve no purpose empty.  Some sailors extend their boats range by lashing Jerry Cans on deck but Talmid has lots of capacity. I figure that with a conservative throttle setting the burn rate will be ~1/2 gallon per hour. This Energy will be used for maneuvering, electricity generation, and propulsion when the wind drops.

However, there were concerns. The forward tank wasn’t being used… How about residuel fuel contamination or tank integrity? The supply lines leading aft to the manifold likely contained air if the tank was truly empty and Diesel engines, unlike gasoline engines stop running and won’t re-start if there are air bubbles in the delivery system. The lines have to be ‘bled’ ensuring a steady stream.

The place to do this is in the marina slip as opposed to dead in the water on open ocean while pitching and rolling. After much thought and from the security of the berth since this was my first foray,  I proceeded as follows.

  • Added a few gallons at the fuel dock ensuring that the unused tank did in fact hold fuel – checking that the bilge stayed dry. (What a clean up mess if it hadn’t!)
  • Motor back to the berth on the known good aft tank.
  • Acquire a length of 5/16″ short hose and a primer bulb from the marine store.
  • Partially drain the Raycor (pre-filter) and disconnect its fuel supply line.
  • Connect the make shift pump (primer) to this line and direct the output into an empty plastic water bottle for discard.

primer bulb
This is a juggling act and a bit messy. Diesel is nasty smelly stuff. Laytex gloves, paper towels and containment diapers required. The procedure worked. The first emission was deep red indicating old fuel from the line but quickly gained the healthy pink color of fresh. Further, after drawing off an additional quantity it remained so. There weren’t  any debris or contamination to note which was a relief.

Reassembling the Raycor by attaching the tank supply line that I had undone was simple enough as was topping the element bowl and securing the screw top lid.

Since air bubbles were likely introduced at the Raycor, my attention was directed downstream to the engine mounted secondary filter. Disassembly is not required. A bleed screw is installed for this purpose and the procedure is:
fuel filter housing bleed screw

  • Unseat the bleed screw
  • Actuate the mechanical lever of the fuel feed pump to purge the fuel
  • Observe the fuel gurgling from the bleed as you pump fuel
  • When there are no more air bubbles escaping seal the bleed screw
  • Start the engine and check for smooth operation as it runs.
  • Shutdown if there are no problems after 15-20 minutes runtime.
  • Cleanup and good to go!

Having accomplished this exercise I now have the experience of having done it and verified which tools will be required should a tank accidentally be run dry or a filter need changing. Most importantly designed capacity (145 gallons) is now available.

The San Juans

adventure, boats

Wikipedia historic primer here — now it is our turn. Last year it was the British Virgin Islands in tropical water and sultry wet. I felt time for something polar opposite. The Pacific NW is a shift from that. July August is prime time because the weather is so predictable. The marine forecasters CYA with predictions of winds 10 to 15 knots becoming 10 to 20 in the afternoon. But, the most we saw was 10 knots usually averaging 5-6.

Wind waves in the straight on the return and most noticible because we were running downwind so the boat is bit rolly pollie. Relative felt about 3 knots. In fact the boat was only making 3.5 knots at best due to the light air. When the boat speed fell below that my crew felt like we were making little progress. However with help from 1 1/2 to 2 knots do tidal current we were actually making 4.4 – 5 knots across the ground. Aviators call this tailwind. There must be a similar seafarers term for favorable going with the flow.

Fishing is a challenge not the mechanics but the hostile obstacles the regulators place hoops to dis suede. Licenses are fish breed specific, time of year, specific days, season. To add insult to injury Spencer’s crab ring disappeared. Scoundrel or currents?

Handling Sail Test

boats

The Leopard 39 by Robertson and Caine is a livable platform with great comforts and stability but with catamaran sailing qualities requiring special consideration. She is a motor|sailboat with emphasis on motor. One per hull allows excellent handling. For example with one prop in idle forward and the other in idle reverse  can spin the boat on its own axis center-line.  With a single throttle advanced the boat can be made to turn about the axis of the opposite hull. This is a terrific for docking or maneuvering within restrictive confines.

The catamaran is not known for sailing into the wind well at all. Whereas a mono-hull might be able to point reasonably high when going to weather, the cat struggles to come within 30 degrees on either tack (for a total of 60 cardinal degrees unusable). Unless sailing off the wind or with lots of spare time you’ll find yourself motoring in such cases.

A catamaran with sails raised is a beast. From a dead in the water start the boat has to be gently coaxed to begin sailing in the desired direction. The jib can easily overwhelm the rudders. Hardening sails early or too soon forces this boat to head up and cranking the helm has no effect as rudders stall. She goes into irons and back to square one suggesting that the engines are best used to mitigate this indignity. Also, I noted that when tacking (another typical catamaran shortcoming as they rapidly lose forward way when passing through the eye of the wind) is that the rudders are again too easily overpowered during the maneuver. If one doesn’t finesse the jib properly its as if you hit  a barrier and fail to complete the maneuver. Gentle rudder control is necessary as they become ineffective if you rush the helm. I have a bit of Hobie Cat handling experience and memories of this returned very quickly only magnified!

2200 engine rpm from the sail drive gives a thrifty 4.5 knot cruise speed.  The bottom was due a cleaning and I reckon a .5 knot drag loss penalty because of this. The engines are your friend. Use them to establish your route and then, wind conditions allowing, shut them down and enjoy a tranquil sail. Broad run sail speed conversion was roughly .5 to 1 or in other words with 8 knots of breeze our boat would do about 4 knots. The best speed that we saw was 6.5 knots during a 17 knot gust on a dead run. Reaching is the point of sail that results in the most performance fun and the cat will not disappoint.

and now for something completely different

adventure, boats

Decided to try my land legs. Jeff and Spencer both say so-long, “you have fun on your jog”, as they bee-line for Foxy’s, the nearest watering hole from the dinghy dock. Consulting a google map my route looked rather flat and benign but in reality it wasn’t a jog. Not even a walk; it was a huff and puff steep incline hike. Surfaced and maintained road ended abruptly although still passible with a sport ute in low gear under dry conditions. I had the hillsides to myself. Just me and the wild goats. I was surprised to encounter them as were they and they took off like deer. That was fine by me. For a brief standoff moment as both sides analyzed threat, I wasn’t sure that one of them dominant and fearless might not charge and headbutt me off the hill.

The restauranteur, at the Ali Baba’s described how she’d like to capture some if these and make use. I explained that would be futile. I couldn’t even close in for a camera shot.

We are in the harbor after sailing most of yesterday. Upon arriving at Jost Van Dyke, the 3rd largest in the BVI chain we made directly for White Bay named for its sand beach of the same color. They don’t allow dinghy boats on the beachhead so the only way, and this is their claim to fame, is to swim for it. The destination: The Soggy Dollar Bar. Can you guess why they call it that? We empty everything else from our clothing pockets and off we went. Spencer sampled their famous ‘Pain Killer’. Word has it that 3.2 of these drinks equals — naked. No debauchery but it was the closest to Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean thus far.

Whelp, time to rustle up some breakfast and today one without the clean-up ordeal. We are lazy islanders today staying put. Well, perhaps a Dive excursion for sure.