Tag Archives: Galapagos

Ready, Set….No.

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Okay, okay, yes, everyone in the Little Cunning Plan household needed to just calm down; get a little reality check, untwist our collective knickers. And we’ve done just that. Wiser minds have prevailed and I hope ours are among them. After our last post where I ranted about how pissed off I was that the hatches leaked, and threatened to use butyl tape to re-bed them in the cold season, our readers raced to our rescue and gave us a good talking to. We love our readers.  And we love how they bring good ideas to the table. Because I can come up with some really bad ideas when I’m mad. 

One of the comments that made us take a deep breath was this reminder by a reader known by the sobriquet of “Saffy the Pook”. Got to love that. He/She put in writing what we had been talking about, only reading it in someone else’s words planted our feet even more firmly on beloved terra firma:

“Like your exhaust, this is not a job that will tolerate shortcuts or amateur mistakes. Also like your exhaust, it can have serious negative repercussions if it fails at sea under trying conditions. As painful as it may be, commit to doing it right whether that means spending the time to do it yourself or spending the money to have a pro do it for you.”  (Saffy the Pook)

Of course, that is 100% accurate. You’ll get no argument from us, Saffy.  And you express this with such a reasonable tone, too.  When I say this kind of thing, it comes out more like, “WE CAN’T GO TO SEA WITH A *&^$^&* LEAKING HATCH! WHAT IF A BIG WAVE COMES? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE HAVE TO DO THIS OVER? MY HANDS ARE STILL RECOVERING FROM ALL THE **&^ CLEANING WE DID LAST TIME! I STILL HAVEN’T REPLACED ALL THE BRAIN CELLS I LOST DUE TO ACETONE! CAN WE PAY SOMEONE TO DO THIS FOR US? WHY AM I WHINING IN CAPITAL LETTERS ALL THE TIME???”  Your way is probably better. 

Around the same time, alert reader and friend Lee Youngblood (sailor, yacht broker, photographer) sent us an email with this subject line: “DON”T DO IT!”.  Well that got our attention! He cautioned us about rushing into making a repair at this moment in time, reminding us that butyl tape is only for applications where there is compression between pieces (and duh, we actually knew that and it’s why we didn’t use it in the first place, but I forgot about that in my pissed-off stomping fit).  He also reminded us that cold weather was not a good time for bedding material to set up well.  Lots of smacking of ourselves in the head was happening, let me tell you.

Even when I’m in a rant, the better part of my brain is working the problem and trying to find the least offensive solution, but keeping the primary goal in mind is sometimes an issue. In this case, the primary goal was keeping water out of the boat for the rainy season, not redoing the entire job. So I had started researching short term solutions, wishing that I could find something like the butyl tape we used on the ports in the hull. That stuff is working great! But, of course, getting that off would not be easy, and it would look pretty bad, too. Didn’t anyone make a clear rubbery weatherproof tape with good adhesion? A girl can dream. A girl can waste plenty of time doing the Google on stuff like this, also.foil tape

Then we got Lee Youngblood’s email suggesting we try an old cruiser trick of using aluminum tape. Bingo. In fact, we had some of that on the boat already. Another reader suggested using preservation tape, and that sounded like it would be a winner, too. But we already had the aluminum tape.  Mike used it when he was building the refrigerator box. I remember at the time he was working on the fridge he commented that he loved that stuff and could think of many uses for it. He wanted to keep some on the boat, so we had maybe half a roll left. The stuff we used is called Extreme Weather Foil Tape and it’s basically like heavy aluminum foil with a good sticky backing. Don’t ask me why we didn’t think of using that. Viva, Lee!

I hope you weren’t holding your breath waiting to see if we actually did those hatches right this time because you’ll have to wait until warm weather comes back around. That’s a lot of breath holding. Today we went down to the boat and made her water tight (hopefully) with this stuff. It’s really too wide, so first thing we did was cut each piece into two pieces of equal  width. This stuff is really easy to work with but get it right the first time when you apply it. If you have to reposition it, it’s not going to be nice and smooth anymore. We did all three hatches and are very pleased that they look decent. 

After applying the tape, I went over it with my fingers smoothing it out and making sure that the edge was firmly adhering all the way around each lens. It is easy to puncture this stuff with any kind of sharp edge, so you need to use care when smoothing. Other than that, this tape is dead easy to use and the paper backing comes off easily. 

Anyhoo, I think/hope/pray we’ve got this under control for this season. Add it to the long list of tasks to be addressed at the haul out this summer. Ideally, we’d like to be able to take the hatch lids off to work on them. I think being able to take them home and put them on the bench to work on will help us be sure all the silicone is off, if, indeed, that is the problem. The other possibility causing the leaking is that we didn’t use enough product, especially on the forward hatch. We were nervous about using too much, but may have erred on the side of being too cautious. Live and learn. Perhaps that mystery will be solved when we give it another go.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for bringing your experience to the table!

 

 

 

Toilets That Flush

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That’s right, we’re back to our regular lives. Toilets that flush, hot water on demand, king sized bed, unlimited furniture that’s comfortable, internet access all the day all the time. A big washer, dryer, two refrigerators (and an ice maker!), the list of amenities we enjoy at home grows tiresomely long.

We miss the boat. Coming back to our house is always a difficult transition for us after a couple of weeks on the boat because in spite of all the amenities our land based home offers,  there is also a lawn to be mowed, a floor that needs vacuuming, and groceries to be bought. And even though it’s so much easier to take the car to Costco and stock up on groceries, it’s much more fun and adventurous to anchor in front of downtown Sidney, dinghy in to shore, and hike up the beach and down the street and lug everything back to Galapagos.  I guess we’re just crazy like that.

Galapagos waits in front of the public beach on the Sidney, B.C waterfront.

We had a wonderful, successful trip and I have over 500 photos to sort through. We got our anchoring routine down pat. I learned that the hot water heater works only when we’re tied to the dock. Whoops! We anchored out 100% of the time and remembered what it’s like to negotiate food storage sans refrigeration. Let’s just say that ice is expensive in the islands. I docked the boat in Poet’s Cove, choosing a dead calm day and plenty of room so I would have a good chance of complete success. It worked out great. And we’re getting the whole ‘docking this beast’ routine down in terms of who does what when Mike’s at the wheel and I’m doing the tying off. We’re learning. So far, so good.

On the Strait of Georgia.

Our route took us from Tacoma to Camano Island and then through Deception Pass for the first time ever. A ten hour day by motor got us to the island and anchored out for the evening. We continue to be amazed at how much faster this boat moves than our Cal 34. We had planned to meet up with a friend of Mike’s from work, who has a house on Camano Island. But alas, his cow was calving that day so they were not home. For some reason, that just cracked me up.

But regardless of cows, we had to pay attention to the timing going through Deception Pass.  For the uninitiated, Deception Pass is one of those places where you don’t want to be caught at the wrong time of the current cycle because you could find yourself with an opposing current of over 6 knots if you don’t pay attention. We had been through that area on the Victoria Clipper, but had never sailed (or motored) through it. The mother cow made it possible for us to make it up to the pass in time to go through without trouble. We had 1 knot of current with us and even with that, it was like Mr. Toad’s wild ride as Galapagos struggled to keep a strait course. A sailboat coming the opposite direction, against that same 1 knot of current, was stopped dead in the middle of the pass for awhile and I thought he was going to drift into the rocks, but he made it. I’m pretty sure current doesn’t tell the whole story in this place. It’s pretty ‘exciting’ to be sure.

Approaching Deception Pass. Fishermen fishing the currents appear to block the passage, but they don’t actually get in the way.

Once you get through the pass you are in the islands and that’s pretty sweet. We hit Rosario Strait at the wrong time, however, and would have been bucking current with no wind all the way north so we decided we were done for the day and anchored at little Strawberry Island State Park. There isn’t much going on at that little park but it was a reasonable enough anchorage in calm weather.  We were already tucked in for the evening and it wasn’t even dinner time yet. I thought about dropping the kayak in the water, but it was too much trouble. I decided to sleep instead.

It’s an interesting thing, going on this kind of vacation. It takes awhile for the ‘vacation’ part to sink in, at least for Mike. It hits me immediately in the form of sleeping. The first two days if I wasn’t on watch, I was probably sleeping. Mike, on the other hand, was doing projects. Here’s a little note from my diary after the first two days of this trip:

What I do best on this boat is sleep. I could sleep all day long and into the night and through to the next day. Honestly, sometimes I can barely keep my eyes open and it feels like my brain just needs someone to hit the ‘reset’ button. Mike does projects. Since we left he has installed and hardwired a small inverter, being used as I type this to keep this laptop running and to allow him to use his little soldering iron. Because he has also wired in the battery charger for his drill and now he is working on some other god-knows-what project in the man cave. I like the IDEA of doing projects, but I cannot bring myself to think of one to do. Well, there was that Creeping Crack Cure I put around the outside of the midship hatch as extra insurance against leaks, but that hardly counts since it took all of 5 minutes. But by GOD that hatch doesn’t leak a drop. Then I did cook dinner and clean up. And then put some gluten free cookies in the oven, hoping the shot of glucose from them would somehow jumpstart my brain. I wonder if this is what I will always feel like when we live on the boat. Will I be this completely lacking in motivation, unable to find the energy to even drop the dinghy in the water? Thank God this laptop works without internet.

Mike, working on a boat project during his ‘vacation’.

Let’s just say that it takes awhile for Mike to unwind. And it takes me awhile to find my groove. I feel a little bit ‘between worlds’ the first few days, a bit discombobulated. I can’t go on my morning walks with the dog. I have no interweb. It’s a wierd, liminal space.

The following day was one for sailing! We rode the tide up Rosario Strait and out into the Strait of Georgia to find wind! Lovely, constant wind. Getting to the head of Rosario Strait took almost no time at all. By 10:00 we were in the Strait of Georgia, looking through our binoculars at a crowd of boats in Echo Bay on Sucia Island.   We had the whole day ahead of us so we just went sailing, waiting for the Labor Day crowd to leave Sucia so we could find a decent anchorage and spend a little time there. We spent several hours on a warm sunny day just doing long tacks back and forth in the strait, finally having a chance to really get the hang of tacking Galapagos. It was fabulous. Let the vacation begin.

Long, easy tacks on the Strait of Georgia.

We found a great anchorage at Sucia between Little Sucia and the big island, just outside of Fox Cove. It’s not a marked anchorage and it’s nowhere near the mooring buoys. It was perfect. We are learning that we can trust our big Bruce anchor and heavy chain to hold us. We settled in for a couple of days to explore Sucia.

Scenes from Sucia

Sea lions on rocks off Sucia Island.

And just around the corner, seals on rocks. Classic.

That’s Little Sucia and the beach right by the boat.

Forest path on Sucia.

Galapagos and the sandstone of Sucia Island.

Little Blue Heron.

And the next day, it poured rain all day long. The hatch didn’t leak a bit. We stayed in bed and read books and ate bad things all day. Aside from expanding waistlines, this was our reward:

Sunset from Fox Cove

And this looking the other way.

And this.

And now you know why we miss the boat.

The following day was glorious sun and warm temperatures. Time to get off the boat and do some hiking around the island. More photos. Remember, I have almost 500 hundred to sort through.

 

It’s a vulture. It was busy dining on a small dogfish.

Sucia Island is known for its fossils. Here’s a little vein of fossilized shells in the sandstone.

Mike likes to go Geocaching whenever there is one around, and there was one at Sucia. He found this one easily. No cool prizes, though, although there was a pin from the American Club in Hong Kong. It’s probably still there if you want it. 

We stayed at this anchorage for close to three days, then beat time over to Poet’s Cove in Bedwell Harbor to check in with the Canadians. Galapagos’ first two owners live in British Columbia. She would be back in her home waters. More fun to come, so stay tuned.

Our dinghy, Tortoise.

Our dinghy, Tortoise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Exhaust Elbow Blues, Reprise

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Raise your hand if you thought we would have some trouble with that exhaust set up on Galapagos during our recent shake down trip from Astoria, Oregon to Tacoma.  Yeah, don’t gloat. Because our hands are raised, too.  If you’ve been following the Drama of the Exhaust System, you’ll recall that we had a fancy new engine exhaust pipe made to fit the boat because we were worried that water would back up into the engine, drowning Hiram and making us dead sad. If you are new to this series, read about that here and here to catch up with the rest of us.

The new pipe fit like it was made for Galapagos because, duh, it WAS made for Galapagos to the tune of (Put coffee mug down here) an amount of money that is very large.  When you pay several hundred dollars for a specially machined piece, you kind of think things would be right but that’s where you would be wrong.

Freshly installed and wrapped. This tape turned out to be really good.

From the get go, Mike was concerned about the weld holding the new piece of metal pipe to the flange that was used to attach the thing to the Beta. It just didn’t seem that the piece had enough support to keep that particular joint intact but the mechanic who fashioned the piece assured us that it would be fine. We wanted to believe him because we really were anxious to turn the page on that chapter of the refit. The pipe was pretty. It fit nicely. The kid who made it was a nice kid. Hiram hummed along perfectly well. Mike added rubber washers to the support on the right, wrapped the thing in insulating tape, and vowed to keep his critical eye on it. We figured it would eventually be a problem but we wanted to get going bringing Galapagos up to Tacoma. What could possibly go wrong?

All was well until we were anchored in Bellingham Bay ready to visit our son Andrew for a couple of days. Mike had been doing his usual checks in the engine room and I could tell by the cut of his jib something was amiss. Then the cursing began. It’s always quiet, but it sounds even worse that way and after the time he found water in our new engine’s oil, whenever I hear silent cursing coming from the engine room, I have a post traumatic experience. He found that the weld had separated just where he’d been concerned it would, and what was holding the pipe together was the insulating tape. And because of  the leak, the exhaust gases were now allowing water to make its way back toward the engine! Oy. When we examined the broken weld, we saw that the piece had been butt-welded, not beveled or supported in any way. Sheesh. Do we need to learn to weld in order to see that things are done right?

You can see the complete break in the middle of the photo. Ouch.

You can see the complete break in the middle of the photo. Ouch.

He removed the tape, which was black on the inside from engine exhaust. The pipe was in two separate pieces. Mike attempted a temporary fix using high temperature silicon tape but the gas pressure made that fix very temporary. There was nothing for it but to get the thing repaired. I held my breath as he checked the engine oil. No water. Praise the powers that be. Hiram was safe. Another bullet dodged; another withdrawal from the Kitty of Karma. We better start making some deposits there.

These are the times that try the souls of boat owners and we feel extremely lucky that this happened in Bellingham when we were safely anchored and had access to a car and services.  Really, life was incredibly good just then and no stinking exhaust pipe was going to ruin our time. Mike thought we might be stuck in Bellingham with the exhaust system blues for a few days. I can think of worse places to be. Andrew rescued us with his car and he and Mike carefully rowed the piece to shore. 

Mike took the piece to a place he had called (thank you, Iphone), and they referred him to someone else, etc. By the following day he had located Chad Peterson of Peterson’s Welding and Fabrication.  After consulting with Chad (our new best friend)  we left the parts with him and spent our waiting time purchasing aluminum stock and doing some other fun things we’ll write about later. It was a good day, one that made us look forward to being retired and having time to just go with the flow.

Mike planned to use the aluminum stock to make new support struts and called our loyal mechanic, Shawn, who had also been a little concerned with the exhaust pipe installation. Thankfully he is very responsive at picking up the phone when Mike calls. You’d think he’d be tired of hearing from us by now. He had some good ideas to add to Mike’s good ideas and a plan was formed.

Shawn maintained that the pipe needed to vibrate in time with the engine vibration and therefore needed to be supported by struts that were attached to the engine. That made sense to us. Hell, what do we know?  So in addition to beveling and welding the pipe, Michael asked Chad to add a cross brace with holes in it to create a more stable geometric form that would also provide landing points for the new support struts. That way the pipe and the engine could both sing the same song.

In deep mano a mano consultation with Chad. The amount of testosterone in this workshop was mind boggling. I had to get some fresh air.

A few hours later we picked up the newly welded piece. This time the two parts were beveled to allow a greater amount of surface area to be welded. We can only hope. It all looked great (just like it did last time… just saying) so we paid Chad less than I thought it would be and returned to the boat. These kinds of things are why I still work.

Mike tests the tensile strength of the finished piece. He is pleased.

Installed and ready for new supports. There is so much more structural integrity just with the crosspiece added. Geometry, people. Geometry. Live and learn.

Back at the man cave aboard Galapagos Mike created two support struts for this piece of metal art we call an exhaust ‘elbow’ and found places to attach them to the engine. We had picked up some aluminum flat and angled stock while waiting for Chad to work his magic. Without shore power, Mike was limited in how much actual cutting and drilling he could do to build the struts and aluminum is much easier to work with than steel. He also decided that he would leave the insulating tape for later so he could keep a close eye on the thing. A very close eye.

We left that afternoon and spent a lovely evening at little Eliza Island, just an hour from Bellingham. Everything was holding thus far. We know this because every time I looked up Mike had his head in that engine room, gimlet eye focused narrowly on Hiram’s elbow.

Two supports. He may put in a third one but this is it for now.

Two supports. Notice one is a flat piece and one is an angled piece. There will be a test on this information later.

The following day we had a long motorboat ride with some minor sailing down Rosario Strait. The pipe had plenty of opportunity to break if it was going to do so right away. All went well and we pulled into Griffon Bay to spend the evening, planning to cross the strait the following day.

I’d like to say that this was the end of the story, but alas, our karma doesn’t work like that in this instance. This sentence is what is known, in literary terms as ‘foreshadowing’, a term which, as used here, means ‘giving a broad hint about things to come’.

We had a lovely sail across the strait the next morning, ending up amazed at how much distance this boat can travel in a day compared to Moonrise and how it can do 12 knots around Wilson Point and never even think about surfing. Speed demons!  We motored some, but sailed more and still had record speed in the crossing, for us. We made it to the south end of Whidbey Island before anchoring for the night in the currents of Useless Bay.

Anchored in Useless Bay.

We had more sailing on the final leg of the trip. In all, we sailed a good part of this trip from Astoria to home. Even so, one of the supports turned out to be a sacrificial piece. The day after we pulled into our slip at Foss Harbor, Mike was doing his thing checking all things Hiram in the engine room. I heard that small little cursing I’m beginning to know so well. 

Oh yeah. The flat piece of stock sacrificed itself on the alter of vibration for the sins of the exhaust elbow. It took the load and the load broke its back. Pause for that moment of silence.

We have some more ideas about how to solve this problem but we want another pair of eyes to take a look so Mike will be busy finding someone in the Tacoma area who can give us another opinion. Looking at the system as it’s set up, it seems to us that on the right (in the photos) the rubber piece that connects the pipe to the water muffler serves to absorb the shock of the vibration. There is no such piece on the left, and this is too bad. Even if the thing vibrates in time with the engine, there is too much vibration for it to hold for long.

My idea was to have the thing cut into two pieces again, take part of the rigid pipe out, and insert a rubber piece on the left side. That would surely absorb the vibration on that side. Mike says that’s not an appropriate place for a piece of rubber. I believe him because, again, what do I know? But surely there is an equivalent piece in the world of metals? He says there is. So our current thinking is along those lines. At any rate, now that the engine has some hours on it (82 to be exact) Mike wants to have the alignment rechecked by yet another diesel mechanic. At that point we can discuss the elbow and see if we can somehow design a system that will let us sleep at night.

So for now, we take it easy with the engine until we can get this issue resolved, again. That’s okay. It just encourages us to raise the sails.

This makes it all worthwhile.

This makes it all worthwhile.