Dirty Diesel Done Cheap

Posted on January 16, 2019 by Michael

In early December we crossed the Sea of Cortez from San Carlos/Guaymas to Bahia Concepción. Finally, we were away from the boatyard and all the tasks that come with getting a boat ready to launch.

After some initial uncomfortable beam seas, Melissa and I enjoyed a fairly pleasant crossing with light winds. We had the headsail out and the engine running, making perhaps six knots. Evening was fast approaching and we knew that we would be anchoring at night. No one likes to anchor in the dark but we had anchored in Bahia Santo Domingo a few times before and we had our GPS tracks to follow and permit safe entry into the bay.

A few miles out from Punta Concepción The engine slowed to an idle and then just died. I furrowed my brow. Melissa looked at me, waiting for an explanation or at least some calm assurance that this was perfectly normal behavior.

“WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!” I shouted, pulling at my hair. I may have wet myself a little.

No, I did not do that.

Melissa and I swung into action taking the roles we have perfected over years of sadly similar mishaps. I furrow my brow, concoct an uninformed theory on what just happened and then go below to figure things out. Meanwhile, Melissa works out a strategy to keep the boat safe or keep us moving in the direction we wanted to go. That is how we have handled all previous crises. Just check out Badda-Bing-Badda-Boom or How I Spent My Summer Vacation for more examples.

The fuel filter system I installed on Galapagos almost five years ago. The two filters and the fuel valve below them allows me to change filters quickly if one becomes clogged. An electric fuel pump, lower left, pulls fuel from the tank.

So, my ill informed theory on why the engine died was that the fuel filter was clogged with some algae that had blossomed in our fuel tank during the hot Mexican summer in the boat yard. Common wisdom has it that you should keep your diesel fuel tanks full when placing your boat in storage. This prevents water from condensing in the tanks as the hot, humid air cools in the evening. This moisture collects at the bottom of the tank and forms a warm and inviting location for a kind of algae that loves to munch on diesel fuel. Fuel systems that are heavily infected by “the bug” can quickly clog their filters, especially if that fuel is agitated by bouncy seas or heavy weather. I only had my tanks half full when we put Galapagos away back in June and I secretly worried that this might give me grief at some point.

Theory in hand, I went below and switched the primary filter from number two to number one. I looked at the bowls of both filters and did not see any water but I was troubled by a little sediment that had settled at the bottom of the bowls. Had we been infected by the dreaded bug?

I asked Melissa to try the engine and it started right up. Theory validated! I explained my concerns to Melissa. We would have to keep an eye on the filters but we could proceed to our anchorage safely.

This little box allowed me to install a small relay to run the electric fuel pump when the ignition switch is turned on. I also installed a manual switch to run the pump in the engine room when I am replacing the filters. The switch in the lower center part of the box is for the Balmar Alternator.

After about ten minutes, my brow was slowly unfurrowing when the engine died a second time. My theory was starting to unravel; The second filter couldn’t be that clogged that quickly, could it? And something else was bothering me. Something was missing when I had been down in the engine room but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Some noise… a clicking sound.

With the boat quiet, I went below again. When I had installed the engine, I added an electric fuel pump to pull fuel up from the tanks. Diesel engines are fitted with small mechanical pumps but if the engine is too far above the fuel tank a small electric pump is used to provide additional pressure. This little pump runs whenever the ignition switch is turned on and its familiar little clicking noise was what I was missing.

In a few moments, I found the problem. A connector inside my little control box had worked its way loose. A minute after fixing this issue, we restarted the engine again and were on our way. As we lay at anchor later that evening, I reflected on the pleasure of knowing Galapagos so well that we can hear and feel when things are working well and when something is amiss. Having installed, replaced or at least touched every part of this boat, Melissa and I have a lot of confidence in our abilities to keep her running smoothly.

But visions of algae kept clogging my brain. The fuel filters weren’t dirty yet, but maybe I should have a look in my tank. How old were those filters anyway? Four, five years? They had about 500 hours of run time on them which meant they should be replaced. Pretty soon, I had worked my self into frenzy, certain that if we didn’t act soon, the engine could quit at any moment and maybe even be damaged because I was too lazy to check my fuel.

Melissa documents the process with her Iphone. Some people post pictures of their lunch, or cute cats. We post pictures of hydrocarbon eating algae.

And so once we were settled in La Paz, Melissa and I began to explore the wonders of our diesel fuel tank. Since, as usual, we didn’t know what the hell we were doing, we took an incremental approach. I used a small pump that attaches to our ever handy Ryobi cordless drill and pulled a sample of fuel from a hole located on our inspection port. Looking back, I think all this sampling and filtering was mostly an excuse to delay the inevitable. It certainly gave me time to accept my fate and think about how to pull 40 gallons of dirty diesel from the tanks with as little drama as possible.

Pulled a small sample of fuel before we went too crazy; just to see if there was crud in the tank. Spoiler alert: there was crud in the tank.

Michael examines the fuel sample in his laboratory.

We used a coffee filter to filter out the debris. At this stage we were still in denial about how dirty the tank really was.

With proof in our jar that there was stuff floating around in the fuel, we began to think of how to clean this fuel. At this point, we did not have enough containers to suck the fuel out and store it elsewhere so we could have good look at the bottom and walls of the tank. So we just used our hand drill pump and Baja filter and drained the freshly filtered fuel back into the tank. We did this for a couple of hours and the stuff we saw captured by our filter would curl your injectors.

If you don’t like the smell of diesel, stay out of the kitchen. The access plate to our tank is right in front of the galley sink. That means just about all other boat activities stop while we attend to the fuel. The metal cylinder is called a Baja filter and it contains three screens which provide progressively finer filtration.

Very shortly after beginning to filter our fuel, we sucked up this thing. Sure looks like pond scum to me. The white piece looks like silicone sealant of some sort. After seeing this, we knew we had to empty and clean the tank.

We were getting so much debris from from filtering the fuel that our Baja filters were clogging up quickly. Melissa had some No-See-Um netting that we used as the first filter. This netting is finer than mosquito netting and worked great.

After this initial effort of filtering fuel back into the tank, We were now solidly convinced that a more comprehensive cleaning would need to take place. That meant fuel storage and so our search for inexpensive fuel containers began. Just like the good ol’ U.S. of A, if you put the word “Marine” or “Boat” on a product in Mexico, it is magically much more valuable and therefore expensive. Fuel cans at the nearby chandleries were about 800 pesos (40 USD) each We needed six containers. You can guess that we took a pass on spending 240 dollars on this project, however nice these fuel cans might be.

Instead we went to the Home Depot in two trips and bought six 20 litre fuel cans for 71 pesos (3.50 USD) each. Now it is true that these cans are not as rugged as the nice containers at Lopez Marine. They are also not yellow and I really wanted yellow because everyone knows that yellow cans are for diesel. And we had to schlep These cans back on a collectivo while being warily eyed by concerned Mexican ladies. But at 71 pesos each, I am willing to flaunt social nicieties and use red instead of yellow. We sold half of these containers after this project.

Our Collection of fuel cans used to hold the diesel we pulled from the tanks. The dark red cans we bought from Home Depot here in La Paz for this purpose. With all of our cans and buckets, we had 40 gallons of storage available. After the tank was as clean as we could make it, We used our Baja filter and a fuel siphon to pour the fuel back into the tank. In this way, the fuel got filtered twice.

As we filled container after container with diesel, we could begin to see the bottom of the tank. I used a scotch bright pad to scrub the bottom and sides while there was still some fuel in the tank to loosen any reachable grunge and then pump it out. While we were getting some solids during the whole process, we never saw the horrifying clumps of goo like we did at the beginning of this project. I should also add that I had added Star Tron Tank cleaner to the fuel and let it slosh around in there for a day or so to help loosen the crud from the the tank walls. I have been using the Star Tron Enzyme Fuel Treatemnet on Galapagos since we bought her.

Michael trying to look for bits of grunge to wipe up. We were both stiff from being crouched over this hole for hours.

After emptying most of the fuel from the tank, we could finally see this little sump area where the dip tube stands. This part was very difficult access and we were disappointed that we couldn’t clean it as well as other parts of the tank.

Using a length of Pex tubing left over from re-plumbing the boat, I was able to reach most of the tank’s corners where debris likes to collect and suck it up.

Here you can see the baffle inside the tank and the blue tubing I used as part of our vacuuming system.

The walls of the baffle look grungy but wiping with a rag did not yield much dirt. You can never achieve perfection with a project like this.

After pulling 40 gallons of fuel out of the tank and cleaning it as best we could, we were ready to put the fuel back in the tank. Using our Baja filter again, we siphoned the fuel from our fuel cans back into the tank. We also used those same containers to buy more fuel from a nearby Pemex station and ferry it to the boat. Right now we have about 80 gallons of fuel aboard, enough to last us a few months. Being able to refuel the boat in this way gives us greater flexibiltiy and we can take our time and filter the fuel without feeling rushed at the fuel dock.

This is our Baja Filter. The tall cylinder holds the three filters you see on the left. The filters provide progressively greater filtration in the order shown. In practice, that green filter on the far left gets almost all of the abuse and Melissa had to clean it with soapy water and a brush more than once.

Along with our fuel polishing project, I changed the Racor primary fuel filters, and engine’s secondary filter. At this point I think we are protecting our precious Beta Marine engine better than most boats. We have never had the engine shut down because of a clogged filter and, Lord willing, we never will.

Our Insatiable Lust (for Power)

Posted on December 16, 2018 by Michael

Now that the title of this post has your full and undivided attention, I’ll apologize in advance for the bait and switch. No bodices will be ripped in this post but there may be some sighing, heaving and even a swoon or two.

As Michael manfully heaved the 8D battery from the swooning bosom of Galapagos, Melissa sighed womanfully.

As reported in our last post, The seven year old engine battery, a 150 pounder that came with the boat died just a day after we launched Galapagos from the San Carlos Marina. We weren’t terribly surprised by it’s passing; we had gotten long and reliable service from this battery. The only thing I dreaded was pulling it out of the engine room and then getting it off the boat.

But like many dreaded tasks, the reality was only a little dreadful. Once it was out of the engine room, Curt Brownlow of sv Slow Motion helped me get the beast up the companionway and onto the dock at Marina Real. Other than the loss of a pair of pants to battery acid (sorry Curt), it was a relatively painless procedure.

Curt and Michael hurking the old start battery off the boat. Thanks, Lynn Brownlow for the photo.

With that job out of the way, the next step was to buy a new battery. This battery is used to start the engine but is also used by our Lofrans Falkon windlass, two really important jobs. That windlass can pull up to 200 amps and runs for a few minutes.

With the recently deceased big battery in the back of our minivan, I ventured out once more into the wilds of Guaymas. We have been very grateful to have a car here in Mexico as we prepare the boat for launching and this is but one of many reasons.

Michael and Curt wrestle the old battery into the car.

I already knew that I wasn’t going to put another huge 8D back in. The effort of replacing such heavy piece of equipment is a risk I just don’t need to take. Instead, three smaller, Group 27 sized batteries take up the same room and can be wired in parallel to provide nearly the same capacity as the one big battery.

Three Group 27 batteries fit perfectly in the old battery box that the old 8D battery sat in. Just one of these batteries would be more than enough to start the engine but the windlass has its own insatiable lust for power and we rely on ours like a third crew member.

You can buy just about any kind of battery you want in Mexico as long as it is an LTH. The brand has been around forever in Mexico and the rest of Latin America and has a pretty good reputation. At this point, I was in no position to be too choosy about brands anyway but I was able to find three marine deepcycle batteries that hopefully will give good service. The price of the three batteries was about $250 US and that included the new cables to jumper the batteries together. The cables were made on the spot by a little old man with a hammer and cable crimper on the floor of the parts store.

Installation of the our new batteries was a breeze; light as feather at about 55 pounds a piece. With care and maintenance we should get four or five good years of service.

And how do you take good care of batteries? Proper charging is one important step and in the past we have used our solar panels and the 110 amp Balmar Alternator to handle all of our charging needs. But using the engine to keep the batteries topped up presents some problems. If we are in an anchorage for more than two days, we have to run the engine just to charge the batteries and diesels like to work harder than that.

And so it seemed that all the cool kids in our little cruiser community, are now carrying a small generator on the boat. Desperately wanting to be cool, we bought an awesome little generator from Costco when we were in Tacoma.

Happy Little Trees make this Generator Environmentally friendly. Sort of.

With this little guy we can run the shore power electrical battery charger, for hours at a time using very little fuel. And that is one of two new solar panels we brought down to replace the flexible panels that failed within a year.

It also provides AC power to allow us to run a troubling array of electrical appliances. I think we could write a picture book titled If You Give a Boat a Generator

The generator even allows us run our hot water heater instead of using the engine to heat water. While we have used the crockpot on our small inverter with great success, We would never have been able to use the new to us Insta-Pot. Cressie of S/V Blue gave it to Melissa before they headed home for Christmas. Thanks Cressie! And my editor would like to emphatically point out that she has NEVER! used a hairdryer away from the dock and that the above pictured hairdryer was hidden way in a cabinet that I had to dig furiously into find for this clearly staged and possibly sexist photo.

So with our new batteries, new generator and two new solar panels, will our our lust for power finally be sated? Probably not. But as Melissa will readily attest, I worry over our batteries more than just about anything else. Hopefully I can worry about them a little less now.

Splish Splash!

Posted on November 28, 2018 by Melissa

“So long you guys! Thanks for everything, it’s been so much fun. We’ll see you soon, somehow. We’ll just make it happen.”

These were our final parting words to our friends the Brownlows and the Baergs as we stood outside of Hammerheads, a local watering hole close to Marina San Carlos. We’d started the evening at JJ’s Tacos down the road, but the music was too loud and the band’s groupies weren’t really our crowd. We wanted to visit with each other; an impossible thing at JJ’s that night. S/V Blue was heading across the sea the next day and we were taking their slip in Marina Real for a couple of nights to wash the boat down. We planned to leave this side of the sea ourselves in a couple of days. S/V Slow Motion was still stuck in Marina Seca Guaymas, awaiting a new water tank; one of those unplanned expenditures that seem to happen all too often with boats. We didn’t know when we’d all be together again.

All the cool kids hanging out waiting for Galapagos to splash.

One should be very very careful of the words they use when saying goodbye to people. It’s almost like throwing wishes out into the universe and asking for trouble. When I said, “ See you soon, somehow. We’ll just make it happen.” what I really meant was “We’ll find you in a nice anchorage soon and have a great snorkel together.” Instead what the universe granted us was something altogether different.
It went like this. The day before we had successfully launched Galapagos on a windless morning at highish tide. With the Brownlows and the Baergs in attendance, Curt and Kevin got our big boat turned around, walking her stern into the slip adjacent to the dock. Cressie and Lynn stood by on the other side of the fairway, just in case we went crazy and needed help on that side. You never know. Shit happens sometimes. I love a lot of support at the dock.
With her nose pointed in the right direction, we were off. Within 15 minutes we were lying at anchor in the bay, breathing sighs of relief and drinking champagne in the cockpit.

I’ve gone to full on real glass here.

It was great being back aboard and remembering how we do things around here. I thought I had probably forgotten a great deal, but it all came rushing back: how to get off the boat and into the dinghy safely, how to tie the dinghy off on the davits so it doesn’t swing around, how to move around the boat without falling and stumbling into things, which toilet to use when, the dance of anchoring, watching the weather, so many little things that become second nature when you live on a boat. It’s just a completely different way of living. Yes, I thought. It’s really time to get going. It felt great to be out on the water once more.

Here we go! Thanks for the photo, Curt Brownlow? Kevin Baerg? Who took this? How did it end up in my photos file?

Not that houses are bad. We love houses, too. We’ve really enjoyed having a house to live in with friends while Galapagos was in the boatyard, but San Carlos was starting to grow on us too much. I think we’ve been here too long. We are getting familiar with all the places to eat and shop. The folks at the local grocery think I live here; just another gringa looking for canned stewed tomatoes and ice cream made with actual cream, items which do not exist in these parts.
Driving to Guaymas no longer terrifies me, although I prefer not to go too deeply into town. There are many one way streets that are not marked. Ask me how I know. I know all the largest potholes around here by heart and work to avoid them in advance. That’s how you know when it’s time to go: you know the potholes personally, by name, and driving is no longer terrifying. That level of familiarity happens alarmingly quickly.
After our fond farewells last night, we were ready to head over to Marina Real early this morning; our final stop before crossing the sea. We planned an early morning departure to stay ahead of the wind that builds during the day. I was enjoying my morning coffee watching the sun shine on the surrounding rocky hills when Mike popped his head up the companionway.
“Well, we’ve got another problem now.” I love how he says that stuff, all deadpan-like. “The starter battery is dead.”

Well, damn it all to hell and back.

Our yard neighbor had some extra blue bottom paint, so… why not? And how about the repair on that bottom, huh? Go Team Galapagos!

I knew things had gone too well. We had got Galapagos’ bottom repaired beautifully, got the new boom painted and deployed, the bottom job was spectacular. And those were just the big jobs. If you know anything about boats you’ll know that there are unlimited smaller jobs that happen at the same time. It’s a quantum physics thing, the amount of jobs that can be squeezed into one day at the boatyard. Science has not yet devised a way to measure such things so we chalk them up to the unlimited mysteries of life.

Mike puts a paint roller to the area where she was supported on the hard. Thanks for the cool photo, Kevin Baerg.

Galapagos was shiny and ready to go, all systems great. Or. So. WE. THOUGHT.
So now, the start battery. Once more it’s important to be grateful for the timing of such things. We are in port, we have a car, we have friends. Mike has known that replacing this battery was going to be a pain because it’s really big, heavy, and located inconveniently. Mike has determined that one cell in the battery is bad. That means the entire thing is toast.
So we’ll see how quickly we can get this replaced. He plans to replace this flooded wetcell 8D battery, an Armor Plate 36, with two smaller more nimble units. The battery, by the way, is about 6 years old. It was installed by the previous owner. Apparently one cell has gone bad. And if one cell is bad, the whole thing is bad.

No bueno. See the water line? It’s in the red.

Why is this man smiling? He just looks so satisfied here! You’d think he enjoyed this kind of thing. Wait a minute…

So that “See you soon!”? Yeah. Soon as in TODAY. Mike and Curt now have a special date to muscle this baby up and out of the boat. We’ll get to say farewell to them all over again! Hey, maybe we’ll get another go at those tacos at JJ’s after all.
We’re paying 33$ US per day to stay tied up in this beautiful marina, meanwhile, so I cannot complain. After all, we already know all the great places to go eat. And what could be more important than that?

I’m not complaining. Not even a little bit.

We’ve decided to go south with the wind this year. When all systems are ACTUALLY a go and the weather looks good, we’ll sail back across the Sea of Cortez towards Santa Rosalia and try to catch up to S/V Blue. Maybe S/V Slow Motion will be close behind. And then go south from there. We are both positively stoked to get snorkeling again. We’re coming for you, fish!

Little Cunning Plan

A plan so cunning you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel

Category Archives: Boat Work Projects

Dirty Diesel Done Cheap

Our Insatiable Lust (for Power)

Splish Splash!