Another new experience on the water, sports fans! Keep ‘em comin’ !!

Dragon boating had its origins in China and Hong Kong (pic above at the finish line of a race in Hong Kong), but has evolved into a hugely popular international sporting event.

In North America, dragon boating has become a symbol for breast cancer survivors, I’m told.

As you can see, twenty paddlers propel a thirty-plus foot canoe. A drummer counts the cadence, and a coach barks commands, at least during practice.

I had the privilege of paddling with a competitive local team that was practicing for the upcoming race season.

Paddling furiously, but precisely, in perfect harmony, the boat I’m sitting in and helping to propel glides swiftly down a tranquil canal this fine Tuesday morning.

A few salty splashes reach my sunglasses, as the water is just inches away from my right hip which is hugging the starboard gun’l.

I’m watching the paddler in the front of the boat, while receiving gentle coaching tips from very experienced dragon boat paddlers all around me (I’m known as “New Gene” or “Big Gene” since there is another Gene on board, and we’re all celebrating a spectacular and energizing early morning on the water, galvanized around a single purpose – bend this unusual craft to our will with skill and determination. 

Dragon boating is not unlike kayaking in that both are human-powered paddle craft.

Unlike kayaking, you must paddle vertically, not horizontally, paddling in necessary harmony with a large team (not alone), watching the stroke, that is, emulating the person at the front of the boat setting the cadence (not setting your own cadence) and listening to the precise commands (including the number of required strokes in the current sequence) of the coach (“captain”) in the stern of the vessel (as opposed to making it up as you go in a kayak).

This old kayaker repeatedly kept screwing up with the perfect kayaker’s J stroke! But those around me were very patient in reminding me that this is not a kayak!

The higher-than-average median age of this crew allows them to stealthily sneak up on those crews composed of thirty-somethings and forty-somethings with a quiet but fiercely competitive spirit and surprising skill.

Apparently, they do pretty darn well, I’m told, traveling to various race venues around Florida to compete in five hundred meter events.

Here’s my glimpse into that intriguing world…

Transporting the boat:

 

Turning the boat:

Launching:

Boarding (carefully!):

The view from my paddling position near the front of the boat:

Ready to paddle in the pic below, ready to draw on those reserve carbs…

Then, Coach Bob: “Paddles Ready!    Ready, ready!    Hit!    Count ‘em! One!   Two!   Three!   Four…!”

(obviously, I wasn’t taking pictures during that process – too busy shovelin’ water!)

“Slow the boat!”

Big fun! A good upper body workout, and a way to use muscles that really don’t get pressed into service anywhere else!

For more information on dragon boating, including some rich history, click here. Or Google Dragon Boating… interesting stuff!

Lator, ‘gators…

Remember my post of last Monday when I lost shifting capability at the upper helm as we were pulling up to the fuel dock?

Well, I ordered the new part and installed it today, but here’s the thing about that…

The problem originated when a snap ring that fits into the groove on the stud to the right below fell off, and the upper helm control cable slipped off as you see:

But nobody sells just that snap ring – you need to buy the stud, nut, washer and the corresponding snap ring as a set. Seven bucks. No problem.

Then you add ten bucks for shipping. Now I’m up to seventeen and change, for a freakin’ snap ring… oh well. It’s a boat.

Now the next catch is that you can see in the pic above there isn’t a lot of room below the flange and the top of the transmission. Yup, you guessed it, the new stud was too long, so I ended up chopping it off, but not enough, so the old stud went back on instead.

You can see in the pic below, with the cables removed, that the stud itself is still in very good shape, with great definition left in the grooves (the lower groove is used if you only have a single helm and cable to attach).

So I put the old stud back on, with the new snap ring, and end of job.

Here’s a close-up of my new seventeen dollar snap ring installed and poised for action. Looks shifty, doesn’t it?

Lator, ‘gators…

Remember I saw something weird in our electrical system after we had a bunch of changes made (dedicated starting battery installed, etc.)? Well, mystery solved.

I’m able to read the voltage of the starting battery, but there’s nothing to read in terms of current (amps currently being drawn or cumulative amp-hours) so I’m just reading the current numbers twice for the (now) one big house bank.

So I’m going to disconnect a couple of sensing wires (a yellow wire and a brown wire that still think they’re connected to a (now nonexistent) house bank two, which is actually looking twice at the same bank, and we’re at end of job.

Turns out nothing was being drawn out of the starting battery when I switched over to (only) the house bank (for anchoring). It was just an evil artifact, an echo, of you will, of what was being drawn out of the house bank. Who knew?

Rationale is that I “can’t start the engine through the shunt since it’s “only” a 500A shunt”, and starting my big diesel apparently generates way more current than that, so we won’t go there. Plus, what’s the point? It’s “just” a starting battery!

So I’m going to rid myself of the confusion factor, forget about this and move on!

Thanks Tommy.

Kay and I spent the weekend on Sojourn less than twenty miles away and six hours underway, blissfully at anchor. Long time coming. The restoration is finally at a point where we can actually use her again.

 Felt great to get away from the dock. No sails hanked on yet, so we motored very smoothly at 6.5 to 7.2 knots…

 

We made a fairly fast tennautical  mile run across Charlotte Harbor to stress test the underway systems a bit…

The lighthouse at Boca Grande Pass, shrouded in a misty veil, stands guard over the exit from the harbor and the entrance to the Gulf of Mexico…

After just two hours crossing the harbor, and twenty-five minutes running south in the ICW, we arrived at one of our favorite nearby anchorages (so far), just west of Useppa Island. This island is all private, but some beautiful homes to look at, and very quiet since most of the residents are only there for a week or two at a time later in the season…

Just a few hundred yards on the other side of the ICW is Cabbage Key, ostensibly where Jimmy Buffett was inspired to write “Cheeseburger in Paradise”.

Nice little restaurant buried in the woods on a hill above a quaint little marina.

We decided not to go ashore, though, but to just stay aboard and enjoy a(nother) beautiful water-color sunset,

and a dramatic oil-painting sunrise…

On the way to Useppa, I descended into the engine room to observe and feel the stuffing box (where the propeller shaft enters the boat) as we steadily hummed along toward the upper end of our cruising speed (1,750 RPM on the big Ford Lehman diesel). I saw no water leaking in (most boxes leak a drop every twenty seconds or so of cooling water).

I use GFO gore-tex fiber packing, which is basically dripless, but not prone to sudden failures, should that occur, like the diaphragm-type dripless shaft seals. GFO is quite a bit more spendy than cheap flax packing, but a helluva lot cheaper and a whole lot simpler than the dripless shaft seals made by companies like PSS.

The box and shaft were both thankfully cool to the touch. E

ven with no (cooling) salt water dripping into the boat (I hate that), still no heat build-up since GFO is supposedly a nearly totally inert substance (not prone to heat build-up like the more traditional organic flax packing).

You do have to ensure your stuffing box tensioning bolts are adjusted properly for this stuff to work, however. But it does work…

Cool! (literally)…

Once the hook was down (90 feet of chain in 10′ of water, plus 7′ from water to bow roller = 90/17 = 5.3:1 scope (read five point three to one scope). For you lubbers, the term scope describes the total length of the line/chain connecting anchor to boat. Ample for no more than 15 knot winds forecasted… As many of you know, an all-chain scope of 5:1 is customary for light to moderate winds, 7:1 for heavier, 10:1 or more for nastier.

I’m quite proud of our simple but extremely effective ground tackle (anchoring gear), which is so important on a cruising boat. Note a few things in the pic below.

First the 3-lay nylon line (“snubber”) takes the strain off the chain, and prevents chain clanking against the bronze bow roller during the night. Annoying.

Second, note the three foot length of 1.5″ diameter rubber-lined polyester fire hose trailing over the bow roller.

I bought a 50 foot roll of this stuff at a fire safety store that sells the stuff to fire departments about ten years ago, and this has provided me an exhaustive supply of chafing gear.

A nylon line snubber can otherwise build up so much heat, passing back and forth over a bow roller during a blow that repeatedly stretches and contracts this chunk of line that it could easily and literally melt into pieces if not protected.

The fire hose does the job.

Next, note the markings on the chain.

I use two types of markers, measured in fathoms (one fathom = 6 feet).

The spray paint is highly visible as the chain comes flying out of the hawse pipe from the chain locker, plus you can see down to a few feet below the water’s surface from the bow platform.

I’ve also hand-sewn flags of nylon strap (visible in the vicinity of the chain hook lower center. Although they’re now less visible that I’ve repainted the chain and they got painted (instead of their previous white color).

I mark my chain every five fathoms (thirty feet). What you see below is my twenty fathom markings (yellow-red-yellow and four tags).

If I were to let more chain out from here, instead of going up from one tag to two to three to four to five, at four tags I start going down again (e.g., to three).

In this way, when I end-for-end the chain every half dozen years or so to wear evenly on the galvanizing finish, I’ll see the same pattern (1 to 2 to 3 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1 tags).

I’ve marked 210 feet of high test chain in this manner. I keep a second rode at the ready in the port half of the chain locker, comprising fifty feet of chain and 250 feet of heavy three-lay nylon line. That’ll run to the 60 pound CQR plow as a backup.

The pic below clearly shows the strain on the rode is taken up by the nylon snubber. You’ll also notice that I prefer a rolling hitch to secure snubber to chain instead of a chain hook.

Personal preference.

There’s also a catenary (loop) of slack chain hanging into the water.

We’ve learned from more than one wakeful and noisy night that if you’re going to leave slack in the chain so the snubber can do its shock absorber thing, you’d better let out enough so the motion of that slack chain, as the boat bolts in and out of the water on the waves, that slack chain can start a swingin’ and bangin’ against the hull.

Not a good thing for good sleeping! If it hangs in the water just a few feet, however, quiet as Davy Jones’ locker!

Note my yellow-red three tag fifteen fathom (90 feet) markings on the chain just above the waterline? Well, you get the picture!

And, of course the mechanical guts of good ground tackle that make it convenient to let out the appropriate length of (heavy) chain is the windlass – the machine that hoists the anchor mechanically and electricallly when it’s time to weigh (leave):

A few things to note from the pic above. First, on the starboard side is the chain gypsy, which receives the chain.

On the left side is a winch for line rodes. This needs to be tended (the line needs to be pulled on as the winch applies mechanical advantage, just like a non-self-tailing winch for sheets and halyards.

This is not a big deal for us as we so seldom use line rodes, but it does come in handy as a power winch for other purposes occasionally.

Normally, you’d see the chain coming off the backside of the gypsy heading straight down into the anchor locker, but when we’re anchored, I like to take a bite of chain and wrap it around our very strong samson post.

I do not like to depend on the windlass itself to contain the strain on the chain! One bent or broken shaft, and you’re adrift with an expensive repair bill waiting for you. The little lever above and behind the gypsy is the dog, the end of which pivots into a notch on the gypsy to keep it from paying out more chain.

Again, we take the strain on the snubber, and should that fail (like a fusible link), the chain is wrapped around the strongest attachment point to the boat.

New topic…

We did discover that our new battery wiring wasn’t performing quite as intended. No matter what position the battery selector switch was in, it appeared as if we were still drawing juice from the starting battery for house operation. That is exactly what is NOT supposed to happen.

Ultimately, I just disconnected that (new starting) battery for the weekend to prevent it from being drawn down by house operations, and the Heart Interface panel still showed a current draw from that (disconnected) battery!

A sensing wire somewhere is getting some backflow or …

At any rate, Tommy, need your help in sorting this out! Now where is that business card for Gulf Coast Marine Electric?

Yesterday was my birthday, and sitting at anchor, up early, first cup of coffee, oh man, this is what its all about! Pay particular attention to the dreamy gaze…

Then it was off to work on deck. Broke the sails outa their bags and got them hanked on, including mounting the routing blocks along the stanchions for leading orderly control lines back to the cockpit.

First the jib. Ain’t she pretty? Tanbark (~”red”)  in color (lasts longest in the tropical sun, believe it or not), and completely reconditioned last year including all new stitching, leathers, wider sacrificial cover, the works. Basically a new sail even though it was manufactured in 1987!

Will wind it up tighter next time!

Routing the lines for minimum “trippage” and easiest deck “swabbage”

Headsail done. Now the main…

In the mast (also roller-furled),

and all control lines poised for action:

(before you comment to yourself, after the pic above was taken, I also installed my new 2010 state sticker!)

Installed two extra cleats, one on each quarter (rear corner) to which we can secure our dinghy painter (tow line) when we’re pulling her instead of carrying her (or when we’re grilling back there over the rail!).

Also, these cleats are handy for extra heavy weather strapping, or just securing the dink’s (blue) bow and stern lines for added stability when she’s hoisted.

Also note the neon green parachute cord tied around the starboard stern dock line. Nice frame of reference when tying up – eliminates a lot of guesswork when you just mate the green tie to the green wood piling, and you’re done.

Originally I was going to sew a tag onto the line, but there are too many occasions when you want to easily adjust the location of these tags, but want them to stay in place until that time, so I tightly tied ‘em on instead.

With eight mooring lines, this could otherwise take a long time just to get all of them adjusted not only for boat position, but allowing sufficient (but not too much) length for the tidal range… 

And soo I’ll get to redoing the varnish, now that we’ve left the summer heat behind.

Another project completed while at anchor this weekend–I scurried up the mast to reinstall the mast head wind transducers…

and successfully (re)made all the below-decks connections for these instruments and all mast lights (tri-color, strobe, anchor, steaming and  spreaders)…

 

Now after a bit more tidying up, and after installing a new PL-259 connector on the VHF radio antenna feedline (removed to get the big cable through a small hole), and building a new enclosure on the ceiling of the hallway down below to hide this stuff, we’ll call THAT project finito!

Oh, one other project that I never seem to get around to unless we’re at anchor is maintenance on the oil lamps. They’re as shiny as they’re going to get for now, but needed to clean the glass chimneys, fill with oil and trim the wicks. One before/after comparison:

Before:

After:

En route home:

One last surprise – as I maneuvered up to the Burnt Store Marina fuel dock to get our holding tank pumped out, no transmission!

Fortunately, we already had two lines ashore, and the guys pulled us in. Turns out the control oupling for the upper helm came off the transmission flange (I could still run below to the lower helm and shift, I learned, but not my first choice for harbor operations).

By the time the guys had pumped us out, I had TAPED the coupling back in place, which got us back to the dock safely.

Fortunately, we didn’t have too many spectators to observe this spectacle–just one or two:

It was a great weekend… and productive! (the best kind).

I don’t even mind equipment failures that I can fix quickly myself!

Lator, ‘gators…

First job today: change the BIG fuel polishing one micron filter element.

Big filter, big job, but this is only the second time since I installed this fuel polisher (cleaner) in 2006 that I’ve changed this element.

Frankly, I don’t think it needed it, but I got a signal from the vacuum gauge, so thought I change it a document a baseline for a new element.

Note the specifics, which will be important in a few seconds… the T-handle on the lid, the wing nuts on the sides and the danglin’ chain:

 

The gauge on this filter’s valve manifold that told me the pump was having a bit harder time drawing fuel through this filter. Turns out that might not be an issue. Now I know.

First order of business is to drain the fuel out the bottom of the enclosure surrounding the filter element..

with this plastic (disposable) cup (since there isn’t much room underneath drain – only about ten cups, though so it goes fast…

into this (probably a better way, but a clean bucket works just fine)…

I normally bypass the high volume fuel polishing pump when this fuel system is just feeding a running engine. For this operation, neither diesel engine will be running (using their own engine-driven fuel pumps), so I need to switch the electric polishing pump in-line:

Since I’ll be popping the lid on one portion of the fuel system, I’ll want to isolate this filter and the air I’ll be letting in, subsequently pumping it out through a fuel tank vent (and NOT the engine or generator fuel lines and injectors – makes ‘em die), so valves to those get shut…

 I’ll also close off the input and output lines to/from this particular filter.

Now you’ve probably already noticed that this baby is TALL. In order to pull the TALL element out of this TALL enclosure (get the drift?), I need to tilt the entire enclosure forward (there’s a hatch above the new position of the tilted top).

Note the wing nuts are removed to allow tilt, and the brass retainer chain keeps it from tipping all the way over…

The lid’s already popped at this point. I loosened it during the draining process to facilitate more rapid evacuation of fuel in the enclosure..

Check out the size of this mother (comfortably resting in a waste basket lined with two plastic bags) with respect to my ball point pen…

Here you see the new element has been inserted and locked into place. I’m slowly pouring the fuel from the bucket back into the enclosure, giving it time to soak the element (driving out ‘bad’ air)…

Done. Now I’ll dispose of the element at a local recycling center.

Of course, I took copious operations notes of the procedure which will get added to my equipment and machinery log (are you surprised?). When I need to change this element again two years from now, I won’t have to re-invent a procedure for the operation.

Next task before we can get underway - bolt down the new starting battery and its box.

As you can see below, it hung over the intended platform, so I buttered a scrap chunk of 2×4 with epoxy to waterproof it and bolted it to a transverse beam amidships between the two main stringers that run fore and aft.

I then bolted the aft port corner of the box containing the starting battery to that new (now) structural member. Solid!

The other corners were straightforward, although it’s getting tight down there!

The engine room battery array below… lower front is the (new 1,010 cold cranking amps!) starting battery.

The two boxes to the left are the (now) our single deep cycle house bank providing a total of 450 amp-hours of capacity for lights, frig, freezer, navigation, stereo, furnace if needed, and for flushing the toilet if we get too lazy to pump the handle up and down manually.

The house bank basically powers all things twelve volt DC except starting the engine (now) or generator (each has its own starting battery), or powering the anchor windlass or bow side-thruster (they share an extremely large (165 pound 8D) battery up in the bows, which also has its own charging system.

Done.

Next job – pull all cables from the mast through a far too small hole and connect them to the correct wires coming from within the boat. I can do this!

The first challenge was to just get all the mast wiring through the small hole in the deck. Took a couple of hours, after removing some of the larger connectors, but got ‘er done! Started wiring them, but ran out of time before dinner. Will finish after we get underway tomorrow (weather permitting – should be good).

This task really cleaned up the foredeck. Nice ‘n neat!

Hey! Sailbags on a sailboat? Oh yeah, I guess that’s right. Been so freakin’ long!

Well, outa energy. Gonna go veg in front of the boob toob for a few before crashing. Been another long one getting ready for our weekend cruise. kay’s been provisioning, so she’s gonna be ready for some down-n’out time too!

Lator, ‘gators!

Continued activity at the end of J dock. Sojourn settles in for occupancy (again)!

Took on just fifty gallons of water, laced with a bit of hydrogen peroxide, which we’ve found to be the best and safest additive. Yes, you DO need an additive.

Peroxide very effectively prevents the rotten eggs smell typical when water sits in a hot dark tank for more than a few days or weeks. Peroxide keeps it smelling fresh, as in “no smell”, for months.

We use an ounce or two of the 5% solution in the brown bottle you get at the pharmacy for every ten gallons or so of water. Guestimating even a rough approximation is just fine. This stuff is also, by far, gentlest on your pump seals too.

Additionally, peroxide is a helluva lot cheaper than the fancy additives you can buy at Tiffany’s (West Marine), and every bit as effective – perhaps more so.

If you’re still using bleach or alcohol in your water, knock it off! Bleach breaks down the rubber seals and there are better uses for a big jug of vodka (like anti-freeze when you winterize!) than committing euthanasia on your pumps.

My trusty old water meter, tied to a cheap whole-house ceramic filter I got at Home Depot (careful, you can crack this filter element), does a great job of telling me pretty precisely how many gallons clean water I’m shipping.

Plus I can just unscrew the meter from the filter for easy storage of both.

I also leave a short length of hose permanently attached to the meter for ease of connecting to the dock hose, and a short length of hose connected to the filter output for dangling into the tank deck fills.

I tend to ‘quaranteen’ the two tanks (keep the crossover line between them closed), so I can take on water from one source that may be of dubious provenance while being assured that the other tank is still available for use should the dubious tank turn out to be nasty. Should that happen, I’ll only have one tank to clean out, not two.

Once I know both tanks contain decent water, I may open the cross-over to equalize the tank levels for ballast if they’re significantly different(or not) – Captain’s prerogative!

 

Thanks to Dave from “Lucky Dog” for the meter oh so many years ago! Still workin’ like a charm, Dave!

I just note the starting number on the meter, add the desired number of gallons to take on, and stop her when that number is reached.

Simple.

Useless trivia: According to the starting number on this meter in my water log (yes, I keep a log of sorts for that too – so sue me), we’ve taken on more than 3,000 gallons of water total, per this meter, since I got it about a decade ago, and most of that was within the last three years where we lived aboard in summers and voyaged 2,100 miles last fall…

Since we have a 325 gallon capacity, just filling it up each 160+ gallon tank isn’t really a practical option – it’ll get really stale before we use it unless we’re seriously voyaging! But that capacity will be nice when we head out-island for more than a couple of weeks!

It’s also very handy to know exactly how much water you’re taking on so you know how much peroxide (or whatever) to add. Peroxide does tend to lighten your hair a bit if you’re consistently showering aboard, but so what!

We have an additional filter hard-plumbed inside the boat too that also (re)filters all the water pumped to faucets and washdowns aboard, but this one on the dock keeps crud from ever sneaking its way into the tanks, and we’ve seen some cruddy water coming from som cruddy docks in some cruddy ports! I’d rather not even have to deal with cruddy tanks in the first place, how ’bout you?

Between the two filters (ceramic on the dock for removing particulate matter, carbon aboard for taste), I swear the water at the taps onboard tastes every bit as good as bottled water, and this cheap but redundant filtration methodology is a hulluva lot cheaper, more reliable and easier to maintain than some fancy R.O. (reverse osmosis) system, and I’d bet its probably 90% as effective. Prove me wrong, skeptics!

Another item on the to-do list is how to effectively (and simply!) capture rainwater and filter it before it enters the tanks (unfiltered is easy). I’d also like to be able to transfer (pump) water from one tank to the other (like I can do with fuel). On the list.

New topic…

Check out my new (to me) secondary anchor perched on the port side of the sprit in the pic below. You can plainly see that, fortunately, it’s already been christened by a collaborative osprey. After all, ain’t shipboard gear til it’s been shat upon! What would we do without this symbiotic relationship with these flying rectums (rectum? damn near killed ‘em!), or as I like to think of them – airborn guano generators.

After all, we’ve found that it’s just not reliable enough to have to depend on the occasional airliner popping their blue juice to annoint new gear aboard! Plus that stuff can leave a nasty stain, you know. You can definitely count on ospreys to deliver though!

More useless trivia: did you know that ospreys, and perhaps all birds, have no control over their ejection of “white cement”? Just happens whenever necessary, but I understand that they’re more likely to “eject” upon take-off. Likely effort expended. Your day’s fix of useless trivia delivered.

This genuine sixty pound CQR has barely been used, I’m told. It was original equipment on Gerry & Donna’ fifty-two foot Grand Banks, Sarah, but since they had commissioned a chrome (stainless?) anchor, this one stayed safely stowed most of its relatively short life–’til now, that is.

Hoisted her from dock to sprit with the windlass. tied a piece of line to the anchor, the other end a few wraps on the windlass’ gypsy and then to a cleat. Kicked her over the side into the water. As she dangled plumb, hit the up deck switch and cranked her painlessly into position.

In the process, I discovered that I had re-installed the windlass deck switches backward (up is down, down is up). Hmmmm, so another item added at the end of a rather lengthy and still growing to-do list!

Thanks for parting with this wonderful plow, guys!

No longer the life of leisure for this hook, me hardy! She’ll be pressed into salty service aboard this galleon, to be sure! And how opulent to have a fifty-five pound primary anchor (Delta self-launching) with a sixty pound “backup”, huh?

Now here’s another inauspicious sign – the La-Z-Boys broken down for transport from storage to the dock!

Yes, I finally allowed the Admiral aboard today (like I have that kind of influence… yeah, right), which meant a woman’s touch became evident almost immediately and pervasively.

Of course, that meant cleaning took front seat to the more manly arts of changing fuel filters, painting and the like! Can you tell?

Home, sweet (floating) home!

While the doors to the refrigerator and freezer still need to be polished, note that they are CLOSED, which of course means they’re fired up and ready for business… we leave them cracked open when shut down to prevent a nasty mold or mildew growth within:

After today, there remain precious few bastions of “man-cave residue” – tools, paint and construction goodies - but that is the way of things, Grasshopper…

And at the end of another long work day on the boat, this is, after all, what it’s all about, right? What you can’t see or hear is my sublime enjoyment of mellow rock on “The Bridge”, XM satellite radio channel 27, I believe. Ahhhhhh….  Gordon Lightfoot, America, James Taylor, Rod Stewart and Carol King never sounded (or felt) so good!

We’re going to toss the lines and take her for a two or three day sea trial in another thirty-six hours or so, weather allowing. So we’re excited about being underway and hangin’ at anchor again after so many months of paying but not playing!

Tomorrow, books, clothes and groceries will find their way to the end of J dock and into some of Sojourn’s countless nooks and crannies, Granny!

Lator, ‘gators…

Sojourn keeps getting visited by nice people who bring her gifts she so richly deserves! For example, today’s goodies:

• Galvanic isolator (rated for at least 60A) to save our zincs from being eaten so rapidly due to electrical differences between the boat and the dock (ka-CHING!),
• Combine our two banks of deep cycle house batteries (225 amp-hours each ) into one big 450AH bank (mostly how I use ‘em, anyway),
• Add a new (high cold cranking amp) starting battery (99  pound Deka 4D), so we don’t have to use our house banks to start the engine (takes too long to charge them back up at anchor, and shortens their life),
• Enable all batteries above to be charged, monitored and isolated as needed (with the simplest and most reliable method possible),
• Enable starting battery to be taken out of the loop when at anchor (house banks online only)
• Enable house banks to still start engine as a backup (if I do something dumb)
• Use our existing big (expensive) battery selector switch to select house banks at anchor (position one), OR just the starting battery to start the engine (position two), OR both for charging by the inverter/charger while at the dock and by the alternator/regulator while running,
• Enable shutting down power to engine while still enabling juice to the rest of the “house” (work on engine, fire–after its put out)
• Check our zincs for adequacy (not enough? too many? enough square footage? answer: yup!)
• Determine whether any of Sojourn’s systems are sending any stray current into the surrounding water (they’re not! this boat is clean),
• Integrate a “secret” yacht anti-theft device (I’ll never tell!)
• Wired-up oil pressure and water temp meters on generator (yes!).
• New dinghy tie-down straps (cost-effective, but effective).

Not an immodest set of upgrades in a single day, I think you’d agree. This has been in the planning and design stage for well over a year. Big day.

Today, our new buddy, Tommy from Gulf Coast Marine Electric (Ft. Myers Beach), showered her with all this neat stuff.  Hey, Tommy! (oh yeah, the dinghy straps were ALL ME!

 

First and foremost, I’ve grown weary of having our diver replace all our zincs every three months at a cost of over a hundred bucks a pop, plus dive time.

Enter a big honkin’ galvanic isolator (GI), sometimes euphemistically referred to as a zinc saver.

With Tommy’s silver-silver chloride probe hanging over the side of the boat into the (salt) water and connected to the negative of his digital multimeter, with the other (positive) lead connected to the shore power ground (dock), note the reading of -727 millivolts.

The next key measurement was with the probe still in the water, but now the other probe connected to the boat’s bonding system (ground) instead of the dock’s shore power ground.

The important distinction is that these two readings are not the same, and that difference in potential (voltage) is flowing through the salt water (think electrolyte), through our zincs and back into the bonding system of the boat, eating up the zincs at an unnecessarily rapid rate in a futile effort to equalize this difference in potential.

As I understand it, the GI is like a big diode (a one way street) that only allows current and voltage to flow in one direction, and so preventing this “munching loop” from completing, preventing our zincs from getting munched by Pac-Man in the process.

 Net: without the GI, the difference in dock and boat voltage, though small, gobbles zincs faster than with, so in it goes! Costs less than three sets of zincs, so payback in less than nine months!

Tommy spends much of his time in dark places. Today was no exception, so I decided to flood him with 500 watt floods. They generate some heat, but it was a cool day.

For the new starting battery, and for combining the two house banks, I would be understating the matter to say that Tommy used some wire. ‘Cuz this is WIRE!

Not quite my thumb’s diameter, but darn close! (hey, does that guy need a manicure, or what!)

Finished cables constructed on the back of Tommy’s truck:

New battery in new box (sans lid), partially wired and temporarily positioned until Cap’n Geno can bolt her down after some minor modifications to ensure continued access to all essential equipment, such as hull transducers underneath:

Other tidbits that Tommy observed:

1. Sojourn’s tachometers are being driven by the external regulator which in turn controls the alternator, so if the tachs aren’t working, the first thing to look for is whether the underway charging system is working. If not, could be a problem with the alternator/regulator or a connection in that circuit.
2. There’s a built-in delay in the regulator, which is why it takes several seconds for the tachs to begin working upon start-up.
3. With a silver-silver chloride in the water and attached to the negative post on your multimeter, and the other attached to the boat’s bonding system (e.g., ground post on the GI), any significant change in the voltage reading of several hundred millivolts, for example, while powering up various permanent AC systems (air, water heater, frig, etc.) would mean that I’m injecting stray current from the boat into the water, which would affect my zincs and those of other boats nearby. We saw none of this during this test.
4. Our 18.5K air conditioner doesn’t register any current draw on the main AC electrical panel meter since it is only wired through the auxiliary panel on the starboard aft bulkhead of the pilothouse, but should represent about a 10A draw. This must be added to whatever draw is reflected on the meter to calculate total load on the generator. For reference purposes, two ways of looking at generator load:
   1. 6kw (capacity of our genset) = ~41A
   2. desired load is ~50% or 20A. when I see 20A on the meter, the generator is ~50% loaded (don’t forget to add A/C load of ~10A, however!
   3. since watts (W)= AC volts (120) x amps (A), easy enough to calculate the actual load applied from reading on the amp meter. Example: when I read total amps on the panel’s meter after turning on AC appliances is 10A x 120V = 1,200W
   4. Our zinc reading is 1,029 mV. Good, Tommy tells me. In fact at the high end of the acceptable range. His comment, “you got plenty of zincs workin’ for ya down there, dontcha!”

Check out the working meters on the genset! Now all I have to do is polish them up… they’ve been patiently waiting for almost fifteen years to get hooked up. Today, they got ‘in the loop’! (finally)

A five hundred pound pendulum, set to violently swinging on the stern of one’s boat by rough seas is a scary thing to behold – ONCE. Never again.

And no offense to KATO marine, who custom fabricated my lovely davits (thanks, Oliver and gang!), I just could NOT bring myself to pay $190 for their two finely machined stainless ratcheting tie-down straps, so the $7 straps from Home Depot will do just fine until they start to corrode, when they’ll be replaced by an identical set I keep on hand.

I can go through more than twenty-seven pairs of these babies before spending two hundred bucks! And each pair lasts a season or more before starting to corrode and fade… huh!

Two criss-crossed straps prevent lateral movement:

My old starboard davit, attached to the dinghy’s outboard stern lift point keeps the dinghy level (beam to beam) for rain and sea water drainage (the stern plug stays pulled

out while hoisted for just such a reason):

Of course, that old starboard davit also serves as the critical perch for our gas grill (only used after the dinghy is lowered, obviously):

Chafing gear (yellow) in all the right places:

The dinghy’s bow and stern lines stay attached at both ends as a back-up AND stand ready to be cast off once dinghy is afloat;

Yes, sports fans, Christmas came early to Sojourn today!

Lator, ‘gators…

OK, the ship is once again safe from calamity.

I wasn’t going to concern you, so I kept my mouth shut, but now that we’re safe again, I can tell you no small amount of angst betrayed my underlying fear of being without protection.

Now, however, my lucky EC (Eastern Carribean) dollar, which has sailed all over the eastern Caribbean with us,  is back in its place of honor just beneath Sojourn’s upper helm.

Certainly, we’re now only bound for bountiful waters and peaceful shores!

 

Even though she’s only worth maybe forty cents U.S., tops, ain’t she magnificent and most dubloon-like in appearance?

I am also delighted to report that at least the pilothouse is once again regaining the appearance of orderliness and respectability,

even though the galley still looks more like a workshop,

and the stateroom and spaces forward is still definitely “dark territory”!

although, the aft bulkheads in the stateroom, and the starboard side are starting to shape up after today’s efforts…

Lator, ‘gators…

 

Sunday is our “day off”. A weekly respite from dieting, exercising and working. Well, sort of.

 I spent the morning compiling my ship’s machinery and equipment log, from 1982 to yesterday afternoon–from other logs, notebooks and files and receipts and spreadsheets and yellow stickies I’ve collected over the years.

They all concerned either upgrades or updates or tests or maintenance intervals on virtually everything aboard, including the dinghy. I also will use this binder as the repository of our underway log for over 2,000 miles to treasured input specific to my vessel from some of the most revered marine industry experts to local experts. I like a loose-leaf binder for this stuff as it’s easier to add pages and keep updates online. The formal ship’s log, a traditional hard-bound journal is still aboard for legal purposes, but that’s about it. Nice book, but a pain in the ass.

Thought if you’d like to peruse an online copy of Sojourn’s log, I’d give you the chance. Much too boring for most folk, though, I’m sure. Decide for yourself.

A few entries are still only blank placeholders as future learning augments past experience, but mostly contains far more than you’d ever want to know about this boat, but for an owner (me or perhaps someone else after I’m long gone), this will be a dream come true for a complex boat with complex systems.

It has taken me every bit of fourteen years and two major refits to compile all this crap into something fairly usable. Anyone who says I have too much time on my hands, I would argue that I either resemble that, or I’m just an anal-retentive retired project manager and researcher who considers intense focus a personal demon as frequently as an asset.

Below are pics of the onboard (hardcopy) version that I’ll update online periodically (yeah, right).

and the index tabs within… I know I’ll be adding more  of these over time:

Don’t even talk to me about documentation! Documentation I got!

Just the manuals for all the systems, schematics for all the circuits, the compulsory ship’s documentation and drawings, oh the drawings, of this and that…

All this would easily fill at least one file cabinet drawer in your office, but are handily contained in two portable and water-resistant expandable portfolios aboard the boat. Crashing across the Gulf of Mexico during the passage of a nasty cold front with leaky chainplates (now fixed) is a testimony to the water resistance of these plastic portfolios).

These may not look like much, but they’re super-compacted for onboard storage and super functional.

You better have some table space when you pop the clasp on one of these babies though!

Check alphabetical file “F thru Z”, sprung open on a two-foot wide table below:

Plastic, plastic everywhere!

And similar to the equipment and machinery log above, I keep a few specialized binders that I access more frequently, usually at the helm, perhaps to jot notes in, or for calibrating instruments, or checking fuel or water levels, or making noting when I take on fuel or water:

Of course, I’ll always keep onboard at least one copy of my first book describing our boat trip from Minnesota to Florida:

You know, kids, as I compile the list of this formidable forest of paper, I’m just now considering building a bookshelf, dedicated to just the ship’s papers. Cool!

Now onto more shiny stuff. My shoulders belatedly ache after an aggressive upper body workout at the gym on Friday, and polishing brass for a few hours on Sunday has put the finishing touches on the pain of that workout! (but it’s a good soreness, right?!)

This is my very favorite all-purpose oil lamp aboard, which really begs the question why I neglected it long enough for it to turn not just green, but rust brown with black spots – even some pink putrifaction! Got most of it off, though.

But it’s definitely worth bringing back – a genuine Weems & Plath is always worth bringing back.

This lamp, officially designated as a “yacht lamp”, is also one of the first higher dollar lamps we ever bought, and during far more frugal days at that! Sentiment, shcmentiment! Never waste a buck! (we like it an awful lot, too)…

I’ll likely spend a few more hours on her while lazily danglin’ on the hook somewhere, but for now, she’s presentable and imminently functional!

I love her ‘cuz she’s small but heavily made, puts out anything from a pretty bright to a more subltle mellow-yellow glow, hangs anywhere, even under the bimini in the cockpit without scorching the canvas just inches overhead, works as an anchor light in a pinch, the wick is adjusted from underneath which is handy when she’s hanging, and just looks all business.

And I can’t wait to install my new twelve inch bronze midship cleats (only twenty-eight bucks a piece at Sailorman’s in Lauderdale!). Hell, the three anda half inch silicone bronze screws to mount ‘em deeply into the solid glass hull were almost twenty bucks!

For now, I have to settle for just polishing them until the exterior railings are stripped , revarnished and ready to receive these exotic beauties.

Enough for now. You’re sick of reading about this damn boat anyway, so go watch T.V. or something! Better yet, read a good book.

Speaking of books, if you haven’t checked out one of our local writers whose snagged some national aclaim, check out Randy Wayne White’s books, most of which revolve around Southwest Florida and his cantankerous protagonist, Doc Ford who’s a marine biologist just around the corner from us on Sanibel Island. Even a couple of real-live restaurants named after him over there.

Randy is a personable guy who can often be found exercising his elbow at the Tarpon Lodge on Pine Island, just down the road from here. He’s also organizing a guide service in Cuba in advance of when (not if) that beautiful island is once again legally open to American visitors. That is DEFINITELY on our cruising agenda one season soon! Check Randy’s stuff out at a few sites:

• http://www.fantasticfiction.co.uk/w/randy-wayne-white/
• http://tampa.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/florida_favorite_randy_wayne_white_talks_about_his_new_doc_ford_mystery/Content?oid=730161
• www.docford.com

I’m currently (re)reading Randy’s “Mangrove Coast”.

By the way, another great native Florida writer you might enjoy is Carl Hiassen. Carl is a lighter and more satirical read than Randy, and sports some of the most eccentric characters in his novels that you can’t help but grin almost non-stop!

Kay is currently reading “Nature Girl”, so if you talk with her, ask her about it!

• http://www.notablebiographies.com/newsmakers2/2007-Co-Lh/Hiaasen-Carl.html
• http://www.carlhiaasen.com/index.shtml

Lator, ‘gators, and happy reading!

Rather a good bit of fun shining and painting instead of cutting and grinding! The summer of my discontent has indeed abated, along with the extremely high temps.

Absolutely exhilarating today, for example, low 80’s with all the windows open, allowing the breezy day to sweep through the boat. A fresh twenty knot Easterly also conducted a cacaphony of delicious ship’s music, including groaning moorings, gently pumping halyards not yet attached to sails, and the occasional osprey high overhead screeching obnoxiously loud at the inconvenience of having to deal with a gusty hunt.

On with more of the fun stuff!

First, the pilothouse side curtains… they’re finally re-hung after pushing almost a hundred sharp curtain hooks firmly into place at the condo with a now well-tenderized thumb and forefinger, only to realize they were positioned too high. All had to be relocated an inch lower in situ (on the boat). Oh, my achin’ fingers!

 

Rather wrinkled from almost a year in storage, but that’ll shake out… they smell fine, which is the key (you’ll recall that Admiral Kay has a bionic proboscis!)

We’re still trying to decide how to treat the three front windows, that is, the “windshield”.

We’re holding out for not only a pragmatic approach to sun control up there, but also something that allows us to actually use the inside helm with decent visibility (unlike the previous forward curtains).

Some night lighting… was going to sprinkle some low voltage indirect LED lighting in the vicinity of stairs and cockpit, but the Admiral tells me the boat is just about finished. She knows ‘cuz we’re about broke! So no new indirect lighting just now. But next year, I’m thinking indirect up-lighting underneath the toilet!

I thought a gimbaled oil reading lamp would be a nice addition over the watch berth in the pilothouse (doubles as a sofa when I’m not on watch on overnight passages or at dubious anchorages watchin’ the hook, or reading when Kay retires before me… the light also doubles as romantic glow-producer when needed.

All the essentials are right here, gang - stereo, reading light and bookshelf, smoke and carbon mono detector, air conditioner controls, wireless remote for the autopilot, full visibility to the charger/inverter panel, the inside helm one step away, my trusty “Don’t Give Up the Ship” pillow and, of course, a comfy berth upon which to perch it and my head - my own mini-”man cave” right on board!

Bronze hatch hardware for access to the engine room polished and reinstalled:

Fresh paint on the stateroom bulkheads (rods, hooks & curtains yet to be reinstalled here).

Sprinkled a few fire extinguishers around…

And I still had a few minutes left over this afternoon to just admire some of the fresh brightwork!

Tomorrow, we’re even threatening to bring the La-Z-Boys back aboard! This time they get bolted down though!

Lator, ‘gators…