Skidding Towards Victory

Posted on June 2, 2014 by Melissa

Note: Apologies if the photos are looking weird on your browser. There is a problem with the integration of WordPress and Picasa and I’m working to resolve it.

We dared to say it this weekend. We dared to say we are getting just that close to being able to bring this boat up to Washington. So close that we are actually looking at our calender and beginning to make plans to take leave from work. So close that we’ve created a list of things that must be done before we leave. These are musts, not wants. We must, for example, have a plumbed head on board. We must make sure our safety equipment is up to date. We must call our boat insurance and add the engine to the policy, and be sure we are fully insured for this part of the Pacific Ocean. We must have good ground tackle. It’s exciting to be making that kind of list.

Mike is like the energizer bunny of late. He has so many projects on his ‘to do’ list, rambling around in his head, that I don’t know how he keeps them all straight. He trouble shoots issues during the week, shops for parts, then when we get to Astoria he hits the ground running. This week a new fuel gauge was on his list of projects. Until now, the only way to actually know how much fuel is in the tank was to remove the cover plate and look. That’s too much work. Plus, every time you open the tank you risk exposing the fuel to dust and dirt. So he ordered a fuel gauge and set about to his business. In his mind the most daunting part of the task was making a hole in the aluminum port cover. This little Ryobi drill has more than paid for itself with tasks like this one.

A little cleanup with the dremel to make the edges smooth, insert gauge into hole, and voila, sort of:

Next week he will install the visible part of the gauge. It will be next to the engine panel in the cockpit. There is already a hole there, but it’s just that much too big, so a piece of Star Board must be bought to finish it off. Next week that’s on the agenda.

As much as I’d like to sit around reading novels while Mike works his ass off, I, too have projects going on. First on the agenda was finishing up those port screens. Last week I began this project by removing the old screening material and cleaning up the aluminum frames which had old dried adhesive and worn out weather stripping. We won’t need them for awhile, but it will be nice to have them this summer. This week I rummaged around in the attic and found our old window screens from before we put new windows in the house. They had that fabric screen material that I wanted for this project. I cut the screening out with a razor blade and set it aside. Here’s a ‘before photo’.

I needed silicone to attach the pieces of screen to the frames, and weather seal to go around the outside to provide a friction fit inside the port holes. This week found us at West Marine for something else, so I looked for the silicone. A small tube for 15$? Um. No. I am way too cheap for that. We went to Home Depot and I found a small tube for 4$, but it looked like I might need two. This was in the glue section. I put them in the cart, then toddled off to find the weather stripping. I found that, and just next to it a large tube of what, in effect, was the same kind of thing. Siliconized caulk. 3$ for a large tube. Just goes to show it pays to look around. Considering that the screen material was, in effect, free, the total cost of this project came in at 11$. I consider that a win.

I put a bead of this stuff around the inside edge, then lay the screen on top and pressed into place. Little pieces of screen on each side will help remove the screen from the port easily. This stuff lays on white, but dries clear. After applying the rubber weather seal, they were done.

A perfect fit!

Next up was a new fresh water pump. If you recall, our brief ‘shake down’ cruise last weekend presented us with a water pump leaking like a sieve. We had researched which pump to use, noting that the old one was a ShurFlo, but we couldn’t tell which model or even how many GPH it was rated. We went with our Bible of Marine Information, Practical Sailor, to tell us what to get. They had done a review of water pumps in their May 2011 issue. I went to the shelf and pulled that issue and read the article, then we decided to go with the ShurFlo 3.0. The article described this particular pump as being the best one for people who want to take a ‘belt and suspenders’ direction with their choice. That’s us. You’d think we’d want a larger pump considering the size of this boat and the number of faucets. But we don’t want to tax the system by putting too much pressure through it, and we are unlikely to be using more than one faucet at a time.

Down at the boat, Mike decided that the installation of the new pump would be a dandy project for me to take on. He would be working on another small project in the engine room (adding a rubber washer to the brace for the exhaust elbow to dampen vibration) and would be there to coach me and answer questions. He would teach me how to solder. (Be still my heart! Man-cave mysteries about to be solved!) Wide eyed, I asked him if he was serious. Did he really want me to install said pump? I felt the ground shift underneath me just a little as a bit of cognitive dissonance was created. But he looked dead sexy in his new glasses and, well, he believed in me. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

To be frank, the whole thing was pretty anti-climactic. Unscrew the threaded connections to the hoses, unscrew some other screws, clip some wires. Then use same screws to go in same holes, attach the threaded connectors, strip some wires and wind them together, solder, cover exposed wire and ‘Bob’s your uncle’. The worst part was stripping the wires to prepare for soldering. This was probably the easiest part of the refit yet because it looks like we chose an identical pump. Works like a charm.

In other project news, I’m in the middle of a temporary re-do of the aft cabin. I ran into such a good deal on fabric that I had to take advantage of it. I am making covers for the berths. I’m pretty tired of having an aft cabin that always looks messy. After working on messy projects all day, we would like a more soothing environment to sleep in. This is what we had to work with:

We’ve been using heavy sleeping bags as sheets, then using our blankets to cover. The sleeping bags were comfortable, but slide around and hang off the side creating a messy space. They are hard to fold and put away in the morning as well and take up a lot of space. Eventually we will do a more serious remodel this cabin but there are more urgent things on the agenda. So meanwhile I wanted something cheap, easy, and hopefully something we could reuse after the remodel. I wanted to create a covering that would act as both a sheet and as upholstery; something that would give the space a bit of a facelift and our raise our spirits as well.

My thought was to go to a thrift shop and get something to recycle but I was not finding anything that was worth the effort there. Instead I went to Hancock Fabric, which was having a huge sale, and found the perfect fabric, in the perfect colors, for 5$ /yard. It was front and center when I entered the store. For less than 50$ I had enough fabric to do the aft cabin. For another 50$ I bought fabric to make slip covers for the settees in

the salon.

In our Cal 34 we used a memory foam mattress topper on top of new foam cushions in the V berth and we found it to be a satisfying and comfortable solution. I wanted to reproduce that comfort in this boat. I had twin size memory foam topper from Andrew’s years in the dorm, and a twin size mattress cover as well. These would do for the small berth. (And as an aside, THIS is why I have trouble getting rid of stuff. I’m always repurposing things.) I cut the mattress pad to fit the irregularly shaped cushion and tacked it into place with needle and thread (you cannot see this in the photo). This will keep the topper in place and provide air circulation between a body at rest and the memory foam. I don’t plan to remove this mattress pad until we replace the whole sleeping unit during the remodel phase. But if I have to, it’s simple enough to snip the threads.

They I lay the fabric on the berth, cut to shape, pieced it where necessary, fit it using pins, then removed and took it to the sewing machine for finishing. I’m pretty happy with the result and Mike pronounced this berth to be perfectly comfortable. This fabric is definitely a win, and 100% cotton as well. Note that the colors match the pillow cases and blanket that were already on board.

Next is the double berth (a misnomer if I’ve ever heard one). That will be more difficult because I would like to replace the really worn out mattress. At one time it was a good one, but now it’s not. Since we’ll remodel in the future, I don’t want to spend good money on a new mattress or even new foam at this point. Let the scrounging begin.

Our final work of the weekend: Mike installed the mizzen sail before I even got out of bed on Sunday morning. Then we needed to figure out how to use the Lofrans Falkon windlass and take a close look at the anchoring gear. The windlass works great. We’ve never had an electric one before and both have serious trust issues with such things. Therefore we had to be sure we knew how to do it manually.

Here’s what we have to work with. This compartment needs cleaning and some minor fiberglass repair, but that’s not on the list of things that must be done before we leave this marina for Washington. This, however, definitely IS on the list:

Would you trust your boat to this chain?

Would you trust your boat to that chain? I think not. The other chain is loads better, but we will be checking each and every link, and we’ll likely replace it before we leave. The latest issue of Practical Sailor came this week. There is a review of anchor chain. Very timely, no?

Finally, we are getting serious about this whole boat naming business. Honestly, it was easier to name our children! I am about to get out the large presentation paper and create venn diagrams, if not spreadsheets. Progress was made, however, when the name of the new engine popped into my head: Hiram. Yes, we have named the engine Hiram after Mike’s Grandfather Boyte, whose nickname was ‘Red’. So there you go. Let it be written, let it be done. Red Boyte lived a long and fruitful life. Let it be so with our engine.

Lady Washington comes a-visiting

Look who visited Astoria this weekend! The Lady Washington.

Shakin’ Our Sillies Out

Posted on May 25, 2014 by Melissa

Do you know why they call the first real trip on a new boat the ‘shake down’ cruise? Well, I don’t know either. But I’m imagining it must be one of two reasons:

1. Because you are shaking in your shoes with high anxiety about the docking and undocking of the boat due to the previous traumatic experience with said boat whereby you got stuck in reverse and left a lasting impression on the boat behind you and also on your heavy steel davit.

2. Because all the shaking of the boat due to engines and being tossed around by water is bound to shake some stuff loose that you didn’t know was going to be a problem. Pick one. I guarantee you will be right.

Aside from a whole lot of shaking going on, this weekend found us back in business! I do love a long weekend. In spite of the late start on Friday, due to absolutely ridiculous, just-turn-around-and-go-home traffic, we had an entire day and a half and two nights on S/V Nameless, long enough to get a bunch of things done and actually leave the dock behind for a couple of hours. I’m going to have to soothe you with some garden photos in this post because I was too busy talking myself off of invisible, if not non-existent ledges, to take many pictures this weekend. Why? Because I felt sure we’d be leaving the dock this weekend. And that meant we’d have to come back IN to the marina. Docking, thy name is Nemesis.

Things that got accomplished this weekend include the following: Mike replacing the light I creamed onto the side of the steel fishing boat during the docking fiasco of 2014, I cleaned the starboard side of the deck causing it to look extra spiffy and turn many heads, Shawn aligned the engine and put nylocks on the shaft seal, Mike almost finished the replumbing of the aft head, I took apart and cleaned the dried adhesive off of the old porthole screens, then cut new screens to fit, I took a shower on board for the first time and discovered that the shower works. Let’s see. Anything else? Oh yes! And we took her out on the river for a couple of hours. Just that.

Osprey feeding it’s fledgling.

I really look forward to the day when I can take this whole docking/leaving thing in stride the way Mike appears to do. Appears. That is the operative word here. It’s fascinating, in a morbid sort of way, how my mind will picture our marina as very small, with tight turning required, and other boats just waiting for the chance to jump our at us. In fact, there is a lot of room for error, plenty of turning room, and the slip is very wide. I have to constantly remind myself of that. I am hopeful this is only a learning curve, and not a harbinger of things to come. Because I truly hate feeling that way.

This time I didn’t even bother to try to drive the boat in the marina. I’ll save that for later when I’m back to feeling like my usual confident self. We got out without incident, all large fishing vessels left safely behind us. The river was flat and fairly calm as we tootled up river at a crisp 9 knots, the sun shining for once. This boat can move! Frankly, my body is still accustomed to Moonrise, our old Cal 34, and 9 knots feels like we’re flying. I actually wanted to slow down. It’s hard to appreciate the scenery with all that speed. And what’s the hurry anyhow?

We played with the autopilot and it works well, having only 33 hours on the unit at this point. Mike got the electronics to all get along and speak the same language so we had our depth, speed, and all that. I am glad we got the Garmin chartplotter as all the commands are so familiar to us. We enjoyed having the AIS, looking at the names of all the ships it looked like we would be hitting. Seriously, the system is so sensitive that in an area like the lower Columbia River, if you went only by the warning system on the AIS, you’d think you were in grave danger all the time. Even sitting at the dock. I do like how it will tell you how long before you feel the crunch of impact and become the little ‘wreck’ icon on the screen. So cheerful. It’s nice to be warned. All kidding aside, it’s dead useful.

By the time we turned around, the weather, too, was turning and not for the better. We cruised down river into gusty wind and waves and I prepared mentally and physically to meet my maker. I mean to meet my nemesis. I mean, to do my part in the docking dance. Now, I had asked people who watch our Facebook page to do the ritual hand clapping, spinning, and spitting so that we’d have an uneventful docking experience. If you were among the spinners and spitters, I am grateful to you and you can take credit for a job well done. The rest of you…well… you know who you are and I can only hope that if you ever cross the equator you will be prepared with the appropriate rituals at that time. We got on the dock after only two tries, with no hitting of any other object. Our first try was thwarted by a docking stick, which is supposed to be helpful but wasn’t. We’ll try that again another time and let you know how it goes.

After the first miss, my brain almost went crazy. Neurons were firing at anything they saw. I had an almost out-of-body experience as I realized that I literally didn’t know what to do. I remember vaguely noticing I was wearing my life jacket and thinking this was probably a smart idea. I had to pull myself together with a stern, “White! Pull yourself together, woman! Go get that stern line and I mean NOW!”. (I am the only one who can talk to me that way. If anyone else were to try, he would be in serious peril. Just saying.) Mike was cool as winter. He backed out of the slip, because we were too far from the dock for me to step off, backed way out into the marina, and tried again. This time I was able to step off the boat and get the stern line cleated off, at which point I lost 30 pounds and my blood pressure dropped 50 points. My brain began to receive oxygen again because I remembered to breathe. Anxiety is the biggest bitch in the world. Logic says, ‘this boat has been around a long time in rougher circumstances than this’, but my brain and body say, ‘WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!’. Ridiculous.

Message to dock: I will rule you eventually. I may have trauma lodged in my body right now, but I know how to work it, sister, so I’m coming for you. Eventually.

Tomorrow we go to Fisheries Supply in Seattle to spend the 200$ gift certificate for new dock lines that I won at the Women’s Boating Seminar. This is sure coming at a good time because we can really use some new dock lines. We have the old kind of rope, stiff with salt, and worn in many places. It’s time for new ones. Many thanks to Andy at Northwest Rigging in Anacortes for donating the gift certificate.

Oh, and the ‘silly’ that got shaken loose during the 2 hour cruise today? The water pump. It’s now leaking like a sieve. It looks like it’s original to the boat, so no surprise there. It’s now next on the agenda. We know it’s a ‘Shurflo’, but sure enough, that’s all we know.

Engine Exhaust(ing) Episode 254 and Counting

Posted on May 11, 2014 by Melissa

In case you noticed, I skipped posting last week. File this one under ‘be careful what you wish for, especially if you put it in writing on the interwebs’. If you’ll recall, at the end of our last post, I said that we ‘seriously need a break from this 3 hour drive to Astoria every weekend’. I had in mind that we would get that break because Mike’s sister, Molly, was coming to visit and we would be spending a week showing her the finer points of the Pacific Northwest. The gods, however, had other plans for us.

Mike had a fever and chills by the time we left Astoria two weeks ago, and then on Tuesday of that week, the very day Molly landed at Sea Tac Airport, I came down with the fever and what we’ve come to term ‘the sleeping sickness’. With this particular virus, from which we are both still recovering, sleeping for a good 12 hours per night seems to be the order of things. That and, in my case, maintaining a nice ‘fever on my head’. Just enough to keep my mind in a muddle and make me a really super hostess. So yeah, we got our break. And I was too busy sleeping to post to the blog. Thanks, gods of illness. We’ll be more careful with our invocations next time.

Babies have come to Astoria. We also have a sparrow nest on top of the radar reflector. Hope they fledge before we leave the dock.

Still, we did manage one trip down to Astoria last Monday to meet with our new exhaust man, Caleb Michalsky. Caleb understood the situation and we talked exhaust elbow heights and all that jazz. What really helped me sleep more soundly for those 12 hours per night, however, was that I was able to measure the exact height differential from the sole of the boat to the exhaust going out of the boat and Caleb was able to translate this measurement in the engine room at the water line and use this calculation to design the new elbow. I felt better already, and so did Mike. If the boat were in Tacoma where we could just run down there and fit and refit things easily, we’d maybe have been more likely to take on this project ourselves. But as it is, with a three hour drive just to see if something fits, it just doesn’t make sense for us to try to do this ourselves. So we want Caleb to do it for us.

Caleb and Mike discuss the finer points of exhaust pipes.

This weekend he came down to the boat and showed us what he has so far and it all makes sense and looks like good work. He was able to use the flange part of the elbow we bought from Beta Marine so that the new piece fits exactly the way the factory piece fit. He should be able to complete this job fairly quickly and then we’ll get Shawn back down to get the engine back in alignment. It can’t happen fast enough for us. Not being satisfied with only one good mechanic, we now have two.

Checking the fit. There will be a few other minor adjustments of things like the hose to the water heater, etc.

You’ll remember that we were having a bit of trouble fitting the steering pedestal, with its new throttle and transmission cables and new levers, back together. This whole project has created an opportunity for serious contemplation of the meaning of life and what it must be like to be the great Creator of all. I mean, have you ever tried to finagle something this complicated, where each piece is machined with the precision of a southern marching band and one small detail overlooked simply destroys the entire design? It’s flipping ridiculous. We’ve put this thing together at least 12 times and it’s still not right. I need to be able to literally stand in the center of this whole thing and see how each piece interacts with each other piece, and how those pieces interact with all the pieces that surround them both inside and outside the pedestal. It’s taken us this many tries, we still have it wrong, and they tell me that the Creator made the heavens and earth and all His minions in SEVEN days? I think not, people. I seriously think not. Not without a crap ton of mistakes.

We were so close to victory we could smell it. We had the compass back in place, we had adjusted the cables to within millimeters of their lives, we had removed everything one more time because we realized that the stainless steel pedestal guard would not clear the hard dodger unless we installed it into the top plate BEFORE we screwed everything down again.

Curses. Foiled again.

We had rewired the electronics through the holes Mike had drilled. It all went together like a dream and our hearts began to beat in time with one another, the sweet taste of success just that close to our very lips. Then we played with the new shiny levers, so smooth, so perfect. So. Completely. Wrong.

That’s right. So wrong. Because when you put the beast into forward gear, the lever hits the pedestal guard. You can’t get the thing out of neutral. When you rev the engine on the other side, you can get the lever to go only a little better than halfway before it hits the binnacle. Curses all around, folks. Many, many curses.

Oopsie

Mike went below to think about this. I stayed in the cockpit cursing Edson for making things that look like they will fit together, but don’t. Maybe the new top plates (remember the thing we saved 100$ by recycling) extend the pedestal guard out further from the pedestal. But then, of course, that would mean the pedestal guard we have wouldn’t fit, and we’d have to drill additional holes in the floor of the cockpit. Oy vey. Maybe, I think, we could have pieces welded onto the top plate that would push the guard forward a bit. We’d still have to drill new holes but that would be one solution. Or maybe it’s a simple fix by changing the cables somehow. Hope springs ever eternally.

At the end of the day, Mike read in the Edson manual under ‘troubleshooting’ (ya think?) that adjusting the cables could solve this problem. So we took the beast apart again and did all the adjusting we could possibly do. We are not at all sure that it’s enough, and we won’t know until the engine is ready to fire up again. Mike was thinking Edson would, perhaps, make extensions to bring the handles out a couple of inches. Nope. Nada. (That would just make way too much sense, wouldn’t it?) Then he read that others have had this problem and they have put the things in a vice and taken the bend out of them. But you have to be careful not to break them. So that’s where we’re at. Not a total loss by any means, but not the sweet, sweet victory we had anticipated. That will teach us humility.

Two inches more would be terrific.

In other news, being sick and tired of paying a dog sitter, we took the Skippy dog with us this weekend and he rocked it! Getting him down into the boat is an issue, as he doesn’t care to be lifted. It scares him a bit looking down into the salon from the cockpit. But he has already discovered he can jump off the boat onto the dock (not necessarily a good thing but he’s such an anxious sort that we were heartened by this) and he has found his way around the deck and had some good cockpit sleeps already. Maybe he’ll turn into an okay boat dog on this bigger boat. He slept in our cabin on the floor and was really a good boy.

Finally feeling a little relaxed.

We are seriously looking forward to having S/V Nameless in Tacoma where we can be closer to her and learn her in the protected and well-known waters of Puget Sound. Yes, she remains nameless, although we think perhaps we’ll name her after our first Australian Shepherd. Still, I’m not completely satisfied with that. It feels a bit like a ‘default’ name. We’ve knocked around some names I like better but I guess there is no hurry. Except that I think she is waiting.

Here’s Skippy’s story in photos because he has a very expressive face offering a number of decent photo ops and some good comic relief: