Divide and Conquer

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“The boat is okay, don’t worry.”.  When my husband starts a phone conversation with this kind of thing, what is the first thing you believe I will do? Worry. That’s right. I was driving down to Astoria by myself to attack that engine room for, hopefully, the last time before being able to sand and paint several areas. Mike stayed home this weekend to clean up after the last wind storm. We figured we would get more done this way. Divide and conquer, right?

No, this is not the La Brea tar pits. It’s our bilge. But it wouldn’t surprise me if I discovered mastodon bones buried in the primordial ooze down there.

I was just approaching our usual Starbucks in Longview when my phone rang and I saw it was Mike. “Did I call you or did you call me?”,  he said. “You called me. What’s up?”, I replied, eyes scanning the road for cops as I held the phone to my ear and made the turn into the parking lot. “Oh,” he said, sounding flustered. That’s what happens to the man when he thinks his boat is at risk.

” I thought I was texting you. Okay. Well the boat’s okay, but I just got a call from the Port of Astoria. The piling at the end of our dock fell over and they need to move us to a different slip. I told them you were on your way down there and would check in with them as soon as you arrive.”
“Wow! Amazing that I am actually driving down today. And also, Yay! This means I get to ride Andromeda out of her slip for the first time! Woo hoo! Being towed for the first time ever!” You’d have thought someone had surprised me with a pony for Christmas.

Yes, I know, it’s pitiful. I can hear all the head shaking going on out there in blog-reader land. But I had been dead worried about how we were going to get Andromeda out of her slip and around the corner to the haulout facility. I went to sleep on many nights with visions of her dashed against the wicked rocks in the old ‘Graveyard of the Pacific’. Shudder. Yes, I know we’ve dingy-towed our boat before. But that was Moonrise, and that’s about 25,000 pounds of difference, not including windage. Plus we know Moonrise like the back of our hand. It’s different towing a boat you are not yet familiar with. So I saw this as a great opportunity for a trial run, regardless of the fact that we still have no one to get us to the travel lift. All in good time.  I was excited to see how this boat behaved under tow.

Thankfully, the day was calm as far as wind was concerned, but I quickly realized that regardless of wind, it’s never calm as far as current is concerned. It’s one thing to know this academically, but another to feel it on a boat. Juan and Glen from the port released Andromeda from her dock lines little by little, inching her out of the slip just enough so that Juan could pull the port’s skiff along side and tie up. I could see they had done this before.

The crew form the Port of Astoria made sure Andromeda was securely tied to their skiff.

Juan backed us out of the slip with Glen giving directions from the bow of our boat. Our boat was finally under way! I guess it hardly counts, but I’ll take anything at this point. We were not moving far, but Juan could not see where he was going, and couldn’t tell how close to the dock the boat was. In addition, the skiff has better steering in one direction than in the other, so I could see he was getting anxious about getting us close enough to the dock for us to toss the dock lines. He handled the boat like a pro, but I would feel better next time we tow her if we had one ‘tug’ boat on each side and a way to communicate between them.  There were sighs of relief all around (well, mostly from me) when the lines were handled and she was tied off. Then I got my first true realization that tying this boat off against current, wind, and waves takes longer than 5 minutes. I imagine I can get that down over time.

Safe and secured on a much nicer but much more exposed dock. This photo taken before the port crew installed another large cleat close to her bow.

After getting Andromeda settled in her new digs, the day was getting away from me and I had not even started on that dratted engine room. Where is that magic wand when I need it? Plus I had not brought food to the boat, planning to go to Costco in Warrenton when I arrived. After stocking the boat,  I got as far as I could before giving in to fatigue, then called it a day.

On Saturday my sister came to visit and see the boat. With her cheering me on I got a bit further, mining for ‘gold’ in the dark recesses of the oily pit with my little earth magnet on a string. I am easily amused.  I came up with a number of tools, most of which have seen better days, and a lot of metal filings and general disgusting filth. But I did manage to find Mike’s wrench. At the end of today I have two 5 gallon buckets of gross.

Just mining for gold here.

I’ve decided to give myself another entire day here in Astoria to get further with this thing. Instead of going home tomorrow, I’ll go on Monday.  I can see that my eye for detail is getting in the way of getting the job done, as I have a vision in my mind that this engine room will never match. I see a pristine white room in my mind’s eye. I’m going to have to settle for a little less or I will never be done. But progress is being made. I am almost ready to paint some places! Perhaps tomorrow.

 

 

The Zen of the Engine Room

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Ahh, another successful getaway weekend to Astoria. We’re beginning to develop little habits that make us feel right at home there. We drive down on Saturday morning and work the rest of the day on Andromeda. On Sunday we walk down to the Three Cups coffee shop for a little Thundermuck coffee, some Wifi, and the local newspaper. They are getting used to seeing us there. While the baristas don’t exactly know our names yet, they refer to us as the couple who ‘bought John’s boat’ and say ‘see you next weekend’ when we leave. Soon they will have our order ready when we arrive. We’ll be ‘regulars’. I’ve always wanted to be a regular somewhere. After coffee we might do a little sight seeing before returning to the boat to work a few more hours, then driving home.

Next time there will be coffee on the boat. And I also bought this nifty bamboo cutting board to replace the one that was totaled by years of use. It stores several of these great flexible cutting surfaces. Starting to feel like home away from home!

Today we saw sights that made us feel right at home: Home Depot and Costco. At Home Depot Mike purchased new outlets and wiring, primer for the aluminum oil pan, and tiny paint rollers and pans for the day we actually get to paint that engine room. At Costco we purchased a new coffee maker for the boat because it looks like we’ll want one of these for all the time we are spending at the dock. We can’t spend all our time at Three Cups or we won’t get anything done, although after my first day doing the cleaning in the engine room that idea was starting to sound pretty good.

Yes, that’s right. Mike and I thought we’d mix it up a bit this weekend and divide the pink/blue jobs differently. I got to work in the engine room. Ok, so it’s true I was cleaning. Don’t burst my bubble. I got to touch the room! I got to BE in the room! All. Day. Long. And I didn’t fall into the bilge even once. (Because, hello! That would be completely disgusting!)

Ah, the meditation that is deep cleaning. I could probably use at least a week in this little space, such is the amount of sheer filth. As seen in the photo, all hoses run to this bilge.

After trying a number of cleaners, Krud Cutter saved the day and did the best job. Good thing I have a gallon of the stuff. One day in the engine room completely ruined all the scrub brushes I bought, and I will need to go to the restaurant supply to buy the ‘fun pack’ of green scrubbies for next time. On my wish list is a cleaner that I can spray on the deep walls of the bilge where I can’t reach. It would dissolve the grease and I could rinse it off and remove it with the shop vac. Know anything like that? Or how about some of that bacteria they use to help control oil spills. Can’t consumers buy some of that somewhere?

Still, I made a ton of progress and can sort of see the end of the project of cleaning, sanding, and painting. Today Mike couldn’t stand watching me in the engine room for one more minute, so he took off for Englund’s Marine Supply, right down the street, and bought a gallon of Bilgecoat. I think that should do it.

We got to check off two systems on the list this weekend, making us feel like we are slowly becoming knowledgeable about this boat. The propane system is up and running so we fired up the Force 10 and boiled our first pot of water. Luxury! We’re going to love this stove. It needs some maintenance: Only one of the automatic lighters works, and one of the knobs broke when Mike tried to turn it, but we think these are easy fixes and overall it’s in great condition and very clean inside and out.

Even better than home!

While Mike fiddled with the on switch for the propane, he discovered what turned out to be a great vent fan for the galley, just to the left of the stove. That thing could suck up a dishtowel, as Mike demonstrated by holding a dishtowel up to the thing. Apart from the occasional lost finger, due to the spinning metal thingy inside, this is going to be dead useful. We also have a hatch over the stove, which I think is a grand idea to keep heat and steam from staying on the boat.

This silver knob was one of many things we are still curious about on the boat. Pull it out and the vent fan turns on. Cool!

As we had a bit of a storm on Saturday night (read: wind literally howling, boat trying its best to sail away from the dock), the boat was getting cold so Mike checked out the diesel furnace. It works brilliantly! The boat was toasty warm. It’s like having a little fireplace on the boat, only better because I don’t get along with wood smoke. We are so glad this stove works perfectly. I know our readers in more southern climes can’t relate, but believe me when I say that this kind of heat makes the difference between a cozy boat and bone chilling cold and wet.

Pretty and functional, too.

Here’s what engine room progress looks like:

Not too bad considering the amount of grime I am up against.

And, for easy comparison:

I have to put this in here so I’ll know it’s worth all this effort. This bilge is seriously greasy. Seriously.

It’s hard to work around all the systems still in place, and next time Mike will get in there and remove more hoses. We want to be careful about removing things at this stage, as we still are learning what does what and why. The good news is that I determined that most of the engine room insulation is actually in pretty good condition, even if unsightly. The stuff that was disintegrating was a layer of foam insulation that had been added most recently, and only here and there. It literally turned to powder when I touched it so I was able to use the shop vac to remove it.  Mike is researching what else to put in, and we’ll likely find a product that is lightweight and flexible to go over the older stuff, just to make everything look brighter.

Since my forays into the man cave will take a few more trips, Mike is free to do things like work on a long range Wifi antennae for the boat. Once that is hooked up and working, three and four day weekends can’t be too far off. Then you’ll really see some progress!

A parting shot.

 

Perseverating

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Pop quiz: What do you get when you combine pressure, fire, air and perseverance? You get this:

My husband, winning the game.

That’s right, peeps. After Mike and the transmission had a final ‘come to Jesus’ that included generous amounts of Kroil penetrating oil, a flaming torch in the darkness, and an air wrench, the disobedient hunk of metal decided it was the better part of wisdom to give way. And out she came. (More on this feat of accomplishment later.)

It would have been easy to say that the aforementioned tools saved the day, but I suspect that it was, instead, our daughter, Claire. There must have been some kind of special magic at work as Claire lay on the sole of the boat, holding the light for her dad, handing him tools, and giving him the kind of ‘can do’ moral support only a daughter can give: a daughter who simply cannot see her dad as anything other than a super human. So it HAD to happen, you see. The tranny had no choice but to give way.

Can my daddy beat a group of nasty, rusty nuts into submission? Of course he can!

While Mike and Claire tackled the reluctant bolts, I was busy with a little job Mike suggested for me: removing the insulation from the engine room doors. I would remove the doors and take them to the dock where I would have room to work on them.

It might look fairly good, but take note of that little pile of black powder on the sole.

I suspect he must have known that this would be a much bigger job than I thought it would be. In fact, I suspect this job was intended to keep me out of the way so that I would not see him doing this:

The soft blue glow of a torch heating things up. And fortunately, not burning things up.

That’s right, while Mike used a torch inside an engine room full of flammable things like Kroil penetrating oil and transmission fluid, I was busy doing this:

Very nasty stuff, I can tell you. A couple of hours of scraping and pulling, and 4 ibuprofen, later, I had this door pretty clean and ready to receive something much better than what was there to begin with.

Little did I suspect that inside the boat, Mike and Claire were throwing everything they had at the shaft coupling: Chisels, fire, more air wrenching, more Kroil… You could cut the tension with a sawzall. It was best that I was not sharing the boat with them. I was almost finished with the door in the above photo when I heard shouting. Thinking Mike had hurt himself badly, I jumped onto the boat only to realize they were shouts of celebration as the thing finally gave way to Mike’s persistent will.

The offending piece, subdued at last.

The next thing I knew, Mike had the thing wrapped in plastic and sitting on the bench in the cockpit, with Claire complaining loudly that he was allowing her to do only ‘lady’ activities like handling lights. She is my daughter, for sure. She insisted she would help him wrestle the thing down onto the dock. And so it came to pass.

Like father, like daughter. I believe Claire may have a profession in air tools somehow. Oh, and the shirt? It says ‘Scholar’.

It was quite a relief for Mike to have won this skirmish in the engine room, a battle he will recount in glorious detail later this week. Now he can get in there to clean the oil pan and the bilge area.

And I am going to need to address this hideous stuff that is lining the walls in the room. I am tempted to go down to Astoria myself and spend three days on the boat just taking this stuff out but I’m not yet sure which tack to take. The offending insulation is very heavy, and appears to have a sheet of lead running down the middle. I suspect it is very expensive and was once ‘state of the art’ stuff. The entire foam/lead/foam sandwich is glued on, making the removal pretty difficult, as my hands and elbows can attest. I invested in a new razor scraper, a huge package of blades, and a box of particulate masks for my next foray should I need to remove more panels.

To add insult to injury, the stuff is disintegrating. That’s what the black powder is on the floor underneath the door. Taking it out is a big job and replacing it will be $$$$. I wonder if it isn’t possible to vacuum up the loose stuff and remove anything that is actually crumbling, and then stabilize the rest of the stuff with a magic potion that will somehow strengthen it?  Some long-ago boat owner used silicone everywhere on the boat, including trying to keep this stuff from crumbling by gobbing the stuff on. In some places it’s just a mess. Plus, it’s ugly. We’re going to have a new Beta Marine engine in this space. Seems like we should get rid of this stuff now, but if I could stabilize it and then cover it up with a reflective surface, I’d rather do that. Some of it looks to be in good condition, just unattractive.  Do comment with your thoughts about this stuff and your recommendations for what to replace it with.

See that grayish stuff behind the bungees? It’s gobbed silicone. Needless to say, it’s worthless.

See the black stuff? That’s powder sifting down from the insulation.

True to the experience of boat owners everywhere, our one trip to Astoria this weekend managed to provide several additional items to our project list. The hatch in the salon has a small leak and, upon inspection, I decided it just needs to be completely rebedded and new seals installed. Multiply that by 4, the number of hatches we have. In addition, I discovered that the shelf unit in the little quarter berth cabin is too wide and may have been installed backwards. It gets in the way of the sleeper and will have to be trimmed down, or maybe turned around. Finally, my propane project is not quite finished. I will need an additional connector to make that both safe and easy to take apart when necessary. Between the limited availability of parts in Astoria and the three hour drive, that propane project has turned into a multi-week task. But I will prevail.

Still, it was a very successful weekend in many ways. Claire spent her first night on the boat with us. Mike won his competition with the transmission. The engine room doors weigh one half what they did, and are ready for new insulation. And we brought home a two pound bag of Thundermuck coffee. That alone is worth the trip.

Claire, practicing her ‘couch surfing’ aboard Andromeda.