Part 3– Saturday, April 24, 2010
If you missed parts 1 and 2, you may want to scroll down and read them first.
At 0800 I wrote down our anchored location in the ship’s log. We went up to the aft deck and looked over the situation. We had plenty of room to turn the boat after the anchor came up. We could sail slowly between two boats behind us, then past another one. At that point we had a clear shot out to the banks and to our first waypoint at Sandy Cay.
We have always felt that God gave us each other and God gave us the dream to sail together. We give thanks every day for the beauty and the adventures God has given us in this life. As we were about to embark upon the most challenging passage in our sailing life, we knew that we needed to rely on God more than ever. No matter how skilled we might be, and no matter how well we planned, we were about to go forth on God’s huge ocean in a boat that the ocean could disassemble if it chose. We are convinced that God always wants us to use the gifts he has given us to their fullest extent, but we are likewise convinced that God wants to be with us through it all.
We bowed our heads in prayer. We read Psalm 62 as a prayer. We prayed for God’s presence and his guidance and protection for our journey. We were ready to leave, but it was not time to stop praying. On this trip we lived the truth of “pray without ceasing.” It was no time to be careless or cocky. It was time to go.
We raised the mainsail. Larry went to the bow as I took the helm. When he signaled that the anchor was up, I turned hard to port. Larry came back to the cockpit and deployed the staysail, which gave us the extra speed we needed to make the turn. Gently, slowly, gracefully, we sailed between the boats and out toward the banks. Soon we were clear and the passage was begun.
It was a gorgeous morning. The sky was clear with only wispy clouds. We looked back toward the Pig Beach for the last time. Then we looked forward. We soon came near enough to our waypoint to make the northward turn. The wind was ESE. We gibed gently and kept moving toward our goal. It felt very good.
When we reached the first marker on the Decca Channel, we continued north a bit. The channel runs due west, but we really could not stay on that straight line with our following ESE wind. We gibed about 4 times before we were far enough along the channel to head northwest toward the Tongue of the Ocean.
As we reached the central marker of the channel, we were on a northerly tack. We had hoped to miss the coral heads in that general vicinity, but we found ourselves in a small patch despite everything. Larry went forward and spotted while I steered. It seemed like a long time, but it was probably less than an hour before we were clear. It was one of the great moments of the trip. We had navigated through a large patch of coral under sail without any shouting and no scrapes, either. We were very thankful.
By the time we had cleared the channel it was mid-afternoon. Larry decided to run the generator and get the batteries back up to a good level. He went below. I took the helm. Pretty soon he came back up. “I guess I didn’t get the water intake as far below the water line as I thought,” he said. “The generator isn’t getting any cooling water on this tack. We have to wait until we are on the starboard side.” That news was not desirable, but neither was it devastating.
After our next gibe, Larry went below again to run the generator. Again, he quickly returned to the cockpit. “I think we have a bigger problem,” he said. “I’m going to need to look at things.” He went below and dug into the problem. Our generator is installed beneath our bed in the aft cabin. To work there, he had to fold up the bed, remove the casing of the generator and try to do this work as we were sailing. Fortunately, the wind was running 14-17 knots, and we had little turbulence. Soon he came back up with a solemn look on his face.
It turned out that the water pump had lost one of its impeller blades. That blade was obviously stuck in a hose somewhere impeding the flow of cooling water to the generator. Larry could not tell where that blade might be without pulling out all the hoses and checking each one. The sun would set within the hour. That work could not be done at that time. Who knew when he would get the opportunity?
Without knowing when we would get to recharge the batteries again, we had to take severe measures. We turned off everything non-essential, and that included the refrigerator. Our refrigerator will keep things cold for three or four days, as long as your definition of “cold” is generous. We had canned food to fall back on. We simply could not afford to run the refrigerator in this crisis. We left very few breakers on.
These five items were the only drain on our batteries until the very end of our trip. They drew the batteries down at the rate of about .1 volt per day. It is a good thing we took this action, because Larry was not able to find the blockage in the generator’s water system until the day we departed for the Gulf Stream crossing. After he found it, we ran the generator and were able to charge the batteries sufficiently to allow us to use our e-charts as we drew near to Lake Worth.
Whenever we were below decks at night, we used flashlights. The refrigerator did a pretty good job until the last day. We used the galley foot pump for water. We had a supply of ground coffee and a press pot for our morning java. We cook with propane, so we had hot meals. With all our constraints we still had everything that was truly essential.
So, this is how we sailed into the first night of our journey.
At sunset we discussed whether to reduce sail. We really wanted to avoid the necessity of a sail change in the dark. I gathered together my weather predictions. Both Chris Parker and the Tongue of the Ocean buoy predicted 15-17 knots. We had been sailing with winds at this speed all day, and we concluded that if they were to continue we did not need to change anything.
We were wrong. Our logic was right, but our information was wrong. As the evening progressed, so did the wind speed. First it was 20 knots. Then it crept up to 25 sustained. Then I saw 30 knots skim by on the wind speed indicator. That was it for me. We began to adjust things. We reduced the genoa by about half, but that was not enough. Eventually we furled it completely, leaving only the staysail deployed. We sailed for a few minutes in that configuration, but it was still extremely difficult to hold a course. The wind and wave frequently conspired to throw the boat as much as 40 degrees off course in a matter of seconds. Over and over. (When dawn came we could see how confused the seas were. Clearly, a swell from the north or northeast was countering waves generated by an east to southeast wind. It was a mess.) We reduced the main to the first batten.
With that adjustment, we gained control without losing too much speed. Both of us had grown quite weary fighting with all that sail. At that point, Larry was able to go back to sleep. Overnight the max wind speed recorded was 31.9 knots. Although we had a lot of weather yet to come, we never recorded any wind speed higher than that.
One of the things I learned to like about sailing at night instead of motoring at night is the quality of my rest. When the engine is running and I go below, the noise only gets louder. I dare not wear ear plugs to sleep. I need to be able to hear Larry call if he needs me, but with the engine running, there is so much noise and vibration that it is extremely difficult to get real rest. Under sail, after I adjusted to the pilot berth instead of my bed, I actually slept quite well. We set a kitchen timer to wake us at the end of our sleep time, and each of us had the experience of actually sleeping right through it a time or two, despite its loud beeping right beside our heads. If we make more extended passages, I certainly want to sail rather than motor if the winds are right.
I will never forget that run up the Tongue of the Ocean. It was a moonlight night, only a day or two past full. There were occasional clouds, but the sky remained generally clear. We simply flew. The sounds of wind and water were beautiful as we scooted north. This is why we have a sailboat instead of a trawler. It was wonderful. I didn’t need a diesel engine or a generator in order to enjoy that experience.
So ended the first day.
This post is Part 1 of 8 that tell the story of our return from the Bahamas. It was quite an odyssey. I will be posting the segments daily for a while, so come back for the next installment.
There is a saying that the cruising life is an opportunity to work on your boat in exotic places. We have learned the truth of this statement, but sometimes, an exotic location is not the right place to initiate repairs. We found ourselves in exactly that situation, and this blog is the story of how we dealt with it.
If a friend who owned a sailboat with all the bells and whistles said to you, “I think I will turn off everything and sail 400 miles without ever using my engine or anything else that needs electricity,” what would you think? No engine. No electronics. No auto-pilot. No refrigeration. Nothing that used electricity except bilge pump, sump pump and navigation lights. Radio off unless needed for an outbound call. What would you think? You might think this person is crazy.
We recently completed just such a trip, and it was not about mental illness. It was about necessity. Our engine would not work. Our generator would not work. We were in a foreign country and our efforts to get repair parts shipped in had hit a brick wall. Furthermore, we had no way to assure ourselves that the parts we thought we needed would actually fix our problems. For all we knew, the new parts would only allow us to see a deeper problem. It was desperation time. Larry said to me, “Do you think we could sail this boat back to Florida without an engine?” and I said, “Well, it is a sailboat after all.”
We had owned our home sweet sailboat since July of 2000, almost ten years. We had had some lovely adventures, but we had never before undertaken to sail longer than 8 hours at a stretch, and we had never before sailed after dark. We had always been able to fall back on the engine and the auto-pilot and e-charts. The trek that lay before us would have none of those things. Here is how it came to pass.
We checked in to the Bahamas on January 18 with high anticipation of the adventure of discovery. Maybe it is true that thousands of people have made the crossing and spent the winter in the islands, and maybe it had become a ho-hum trip for some, but not for us. We might have been the first people ever to conceive of such an idea. For us every new sight was like a new discovery that nobody had ever done before. We visited the Berries, Eleuthera and the northern Exumas, going as far south as Staniel Cay. We anchored at Big Majors Spot across from Staniel Cay on the 16th day of March, and we remained there for five weeks.
Along our journey to Staniel Cay, the engine occasionally failed to start on the first try, but that behavior appeared to be mostly related to the fact that it is a relatively long run from the fuel tank to the engine. Time after time, Larry was able to trick the engine demons and get us going. After we reached Staniel Cay, we remained there happily for two or three weeks. Then we thought we would like to visit nearby Black Point Settlement. We planned to do laundry and shop for groceries and see some new sights. We called the fuel dock at the yacht club to confirm that we could get to the dock and that there was actually fuel available. We buttoned down for travel, and then Larry went up to the cockpit to start the engine. Nothing. Nothing but a feeble splat.
Been there. Done that. He began to muddle about in the engine room, but unlike previous efforts, there was no response. We settled down to give him time to trouble-shoot the problem.
He tried all the usual tricks. I waited in the cockpit for the command to push the button. Every so often Larry called out, “Push the button!” Each time the engine wheezed or groaned, but it never did start. Things looked very gloomy.
The next day he worked through all the diagnostics one more time. He concluded that the starter he had hoped would finish this year’s voyage had bowed out, exit, stage left. It was finished, over, kaput.
Internet searches at Staniel Cay require an account with Exuma Wifi at the cost of $10 for 24 hours or 200 mb, whichever comes first. Accounts for longer terms are cheaper per hour or mb, but still very costly by our standards. We bought an account for a week, knowing that there would be some back and forth conversation when he ordered parts and arranged for shipping to Staniel Cay. Rather than give you that story blow by blow, I will simply say that Larry came to despair of getting the part shipped to our location. There were too many hurdles to success in that endeavor.
The biggest hurdle was his fear that even if he somehow managed to get the parts and install them, they might not solve the problem. Even with a new starter, it was possible that the engine would not start. The problem might lie deeper than that.
Thinking along that line, we quickly rejected any notion of trying to locate a diesel engine mechanic in the Bahamas. We had already received numerous warnings not to look for such services in the Bahamas. It would be a miracle if we connected with someone who was actually qualified to help.
The day came that Larry said to me, “Do you think we could just sail this boat back to Florida without an engine?” and I said, “Well, it is a sailboat, isn’t it?”
We began serious planning to take the boat back to Florida where we could work with a credentialed diesel engine mechanic in a location where parts could be shipped readily.
Come back tomorrow for Part 2.
If you ever decide to cruise in a sailboat, be prepared to flex until you are tied in a knot. The fun never stops!
As many of you know, we thought we would head south last Monday after a quick check of the keel. We thought wrong. The rock we hit in Maine last summer left a signature in the form of a gouge into the fiberglass matting. There were some dings and scratches that could have been tolerated, but that deep gouge required attention.
It took a whole week to do the work. The temperature was so cool that Larry had difficulty working with the fiberglass and epoxy required for repairs, and the same problem cropped up when he was applying paint to the repaired spots. We were finally on target to leave on Monday (Monday, November 9, 2009).
We got up early and made sure we had our pre-departure tasks done before 10:30, our scheduled splash time. We cleaned out all our trash, because we can’t discard trash while under way in Chesapeake Bay. We hosed down the deck and cleaned the cockpit. We washed the cockpit curtains. We were ready when the lift arrived. The lift operator had to make a few adjustments to our radio antenna and pole on the aft deck, because the lift for splash was smaller than the lift for haul, but very soon the boat was back in the water. I breathed a sigh of relief and allowed myself to start feeling excited about our winter plans.
Larry and I climbed back into the boat. The lift operator and his helper guided our boat out of the slings, and then they told us we could start the engine. One of the things I have always enjoyed is the sound of the engine starting, because when that sound hits my ear, we will be going somewhere. Larry turned the key and pressed ’start.’ We heard a couple of feeble wheezes. He looked startled, but after fiddling with the gearshift to be sure the engine was in neutral, he pressed the button again. No doubt about it. That engine had a serious flu. Larry went below and reconfigured the battery bank in order to combine the full power of three batteries instead of just one. Sad to say, all we heard was a feeble, limping thump instead of the roar of diesel power.
The boatyard men pushed and pulled us over to a nearby slip where we tied up. Larry had been threatening to buy a new starter battery for a while. I guess that week on land gave the battery a good excuse to retire. That explanation is as good as any. Fortunately the boatyard includes a full-service marine supply store, and they actually had a battery we could use. This one is even more powerful. That should mean that it is not only better than a dead battery; it should also be better than the old battery when it was new. Larry brought it back to the boat, we sat there for half an hour to bring it up to full charge using shore power, and then the engine started. Yay! All looked well. Ha!
One of the casualties of our never-ending departure mode is that I keep having to top off the supplies and food I need for a three-week jaunt without stopping to shop. It took us a whole week to get away from Harborview after we thought, “Tomorrow,”, so I had shopped to replace a week’s worth of groceries right before we went to Tidewater. We were supposed to be there for only a couple of hours. After it turned into a week, I again needed to shop to make up for that week of food we had used. We left Tidewater and cruised over to the fuel dock where we were shocked to discover that the price of fuel had risen to $2.95 per gallon. We gritted our teeth and filled the tank with 80 gallons. You do the math. Then we headed for an anchorage across the street from Safeway.
Because we always expected to simply cruise, not to go shopping, we had deflated the dinghy and strapped it down on deck. We don’t drag it behind us when we know we won’t use it for a while. Therefore we had to unwrap it and inflate it and throw it back into the water before we could shop for groceries. That took a while, so we didn’t leave for the grocery store until 4:30 PM. I had a very complete list, and Larry is a good shopper, so I sent him to gather up some things while I did the picky ones. We hurried back to the boat, had a nice dinner and discussed our plans for the next day. Since we had had such a scare with the battery, we decided to run the engine a while to bring it up to full charge before we went to bed, and that is what we did. We both felt a little gunshy after that unpleasant surprise at the boatyard.
Next morning, I got up a bit before Larry, and I got everything ready to make coffee. Coffee-making requires AC for the grinder and coffeemaker, and that means the inverter. Given our battery scare, I decided not to risk turning on the inverter and using up too much power before we had to start the engine for our trip. When Larry got up, he said, “How are you?” and I said, “Coffeeless.” “Well, I guess I better turn on the engine so we can turn on the inverter,” he said. He turned the key and pushed the button, and all we heard was a click.
This can’t be! This is a brand new battery! We carefully charged it up last night! What is going on!
Larry tried any number of little tricks, but none of them worked. There we were, stopped in our tracks again. After some time for thought, Larry came up with a plan. We were anchored near a marina, less than a quarter of a mile. We would use the dinghy to push the boat to the marina, where we hoped they would let us tie up for a few hours and use their shore power to charge this battery. For the right price, of course!
You would have enjoyed the show. We tied the dinghy to one side of the boat, with any number false starts as we tried to work together despite radically different perceptions of the right way to get this task done. Then Larry climbed into the dinghy and started the outboard. I went into the cockpit and turned the wheel so we could test whether the dinghy could provide enough power to move the boat. It actually worked!
So — the next move was to tie the dock lines and fenders on the other side of the boat and call the marina. I busied myself with lines and fenders, and Larry went back into the boat. I thought he was calling the marina. Then I saw him come back up and sit down beside the starter for the diesel engine. He turned the key, he pushed the button, and miracle of miracles, the engine started.
We both heaved a sigh of relief that we would not need to use the dinghy to move the boat, but neither of us regarded this outcome as a reliable indicator that it was time to head out of town. We called Harborview and arranged to go back so Larry can figure out what really happened and fix the problem.
So here we are. Still in Baltimore. Still not headed south. And I expect that we will be here two or three days. We could be here for a week. It is hard to imagine when we will actually be moving southward. I may even need to shop for groceries again!
Well, at least I have internet, but that is another story. Before we left Harborview for the boatyard, Larry purchased an antenna and software that are supposed to connect to the networking hardware in our laptops and enhance reception of wireless signals. He asked me if I would like to try it, so I did. It didn’t work. We loaded the driver, plugged in the antenna, and nothing. You would have thought I was in a desert. So, we uninstalled the software. I went back to the laptop’s own wireless features, found wireless networks and clicked one to connect. It failed, and I have not been able to connect since. Right now I am using my Dell mini. I hope that using this little guy I can connect to Microsoft support and figure out how to recactivate my network adapters. AAAAAAaaaagggghhhhh!
All I really want is peace and connectivity and the wind in my face as I cruise south. I’m doing just fine, but boy am I flexed!
Ship’s Log
No Boundaries
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
What’s the Price?
Every householder knows the cost of running a home. The water bill. The electric bill. The phone bill. The internet bill. Nothing is free.
We have similar problems aboard a cruising sailboat, but they look a bit different.
For example, if you live in a house on a lot in a Baltimore suburb, when you decide to wash your hair, you go to the shower, fiddle with the water until it is the right temperature, and then let the water sluice over you. You wash head to toe with soap or body wash. You drown your hair in water and then continue to enjoy the lovely feeling of that falling water as you massage the shampoo to a lovely foamy suds. You rinse and repeat, all the while letting your personal waterfall carry all your troubles away. In the back of your mind, you may remember a few public recommendations that you take shorter showers, so you may work a little faster, but you probably never turn off the water until you have finished.
Aboard a boat, when you decide that you want to wash your hair, an accounting must be done. The same kind of accounting applies to almost any activity that uses water or energy or both. Hot water, for example, can hit all the issues.
On our boat, we have 4 water tanks that hold a total of 240 gallons when full. Experience teaches us that we can expect to use that 240 gallons in two weeks if we don’t do anything special to manage our usage when we are in a marina where we can shower without using water in our tanks. Washing hair involves at least two applications of shampoo and then a complete rinse. To achieve cleanliness and in order to rinse out all the shampoo, absolutely essential, we must use several gallons of fresh water. Neither of us has yet reached a comfort level with washing in salt water, and most people would agree with us. When we are out and about, at anchor in a lovely little cove, we need to use our resources wisely and efficiently in order to spend more time in lovely coves than in marinas.
Washing my hair requires plenty of fresh water. Fresh water comes from some source on land or can be acquired by running our watermaker which desalinates sea water. If we get water from land, for example we might be able to get water at a fuel dock if we buy fuel, then we must be sure that we do not run out of water before we have a chance to get more. Dirty hair is a trivial complaint compared to dying of thirst. Our 240 gallons seems like a lot until you remember that we cook, wash dishes, wash hands, wash our bodies, wash our hair, wash our clothes and so forth all with fresh water. Hmmm. Gotta be careful. Imagine that you had to live on 12 gallons a day, and that your supply had to last 20 days. You want to be able to eat and cook and wash your hands and your body. How often would you wash your hair?
And this is only the water account. Don’t forget that I want to wash my hair with hot water. Hot. We have a hot water heater on our boat. I can have hot water when I wash dishes and when I wash my hands, or my body, or my hair. However, that water is not free and the hot is not free.
First, the six gallons of water in that water heater (you read right – six gallons!) is a deduction from the total amount of water available to us. If it is in the hot water tank, it isn’t in the tank for drinking water. To be sure, when I mix hot and cold to a comfortable level, I use from the total 240 gallons available at the most, but I don’t have a forty-gallon hot water tank. I have six gallons. I could use up my whole six gallons in a leisurely shower.
Second, the water becomes hot by means of an electric heating element. In order to warm up the hot water, we must use AC electricity. And where does that electricity come from? Not from BGE. If we have electricity, we make it. We can run the diesel auxiliary engine or we can run our generator to charge the batteries. Batteries produce DC current, so we must run the inverter to obtain AC. Either the engine or the generator uses diesel fuel, so hot water ultimately is a charge against our fuel account. Those tanks have a limit, too.
Furthermore, running the inverter to convert DC power to AC power as required by the hot water heater results in a small loss of the total DC power in. The inverter gets hot, an energy loss that does nothing for us. For that matter, when operating, the engine and the generator throw off worthless heat also.
Oh, I do have another option. I could heat the water on the stove in a large kettle. Well, I still use water, and I add the use of propane. We have two fifteen pound tanks of propane that will in total last about two months. Two months, that is, if we do not use propane to heat the water for bathing and washing. Hmmm.
There is an energy price for charging the batteries. There is an energy price for converting DC to AC. There is a water price to fill the water heater, and there is an energy price to warm it up. Or there is a water price to fill a kettle and a propane price to heat it up. There is a water price for the cool water to mix with the hot water for washing my hair.
Whether I wash my hair or my hands, whether I cook pasta or green beans, there is a price to pay. The trick is to balance it all and still relax and enjoy life.
Which we do. This life has its challenges, but it has wonderful rewards. Another day we will share more of the rewards.
Ship’s Log
No Boundaries
June 1, 2009
We almost have Baltimore washed off our boat. It isn’t easy. Baltimore has been a wonderful home for almost eight years, but it has its drawbacks. For as long as we lived there, we battled with the black guck that falls out of the sky. Most people blame the unsightly muck on Domino Sugar. No matter where it comes from, it leaves a mess on the surface of a boat that is very hard to remove. Last year I learned that magic erasers do the trick, but it takes a couple of dozen of them to finish the job. We bought them through eBay, a hundred at a time, because the volume required would otherwise break the bank even at Wal-mart prices.
We enjoyed worship on the aft deck yesterday. When we are anchored out like this, we don’t have any easy way to get to church. Instead, we improvise an altar on the aft deck and take turns speaking and reading and praying. For now, we don’t have our sound system like we want it, but later we will be able to play our CD of Dr. Davis on the organ for a prelude while we get ready for “church.”
We are learning to live life on 30 amps. That is a major concern when cruising. Many items run on DC, which uses battery power. However, anything that runs on AC requires the inverter, and the inverter must use a little power for itself when converting DC to AC. Therefore, we are extremely attentive to the use of AC. It takes a bit of strategizing to reduce the impact of using AC, and it takes more to solve some interesting problems.
For starters, our water heater and our coffeemaker require AC. We have finally learned that it isn’t a good idea to start both of them the minute the generator goes on. The inverter overheats when it is hit with that demand from both at once. So, we start the generator, start the coffee (we do have our priorities!) and after a bit, we start the water heater.
We also run to our computers and work like little turks while the generator is on. Larry’s computer has a better battery than mine, but we both benefit by using generator time as computer work time. For me, running Dreamweaver or Photoshop is so resource-intensive that I can run down my battery in an hour or less that way, so web work is definitely generator time. My little Dell mini has a better battery than my big laptop, but it is not the right machine for Dreamweaver or Photoshop. I use it for blogging and other writing tasks in Word. I can move files back and forth between the two machines using my flash drive, so it, too, is part of my 30-amp strategy.
There are other cruising challenges, and we will pass on the strategies as we learn them. If anybody reads this blog and has a good idea we can learn from, please shout it out. We are always ready to learn a new trick.