The Master's Log:
Work continues on ABISHAG and as with all such work on a boat, more slowly and more expensively than intended. Case in point: thru-hulls. It is never a particularly good thing to have holes in your boat. After all, what sinks a boat is water getting in. However, the medium through which a boat moves is also a necessary component for systems functioning on the boat. The engine for one, the head for another (times two in this case as ABISHAG has one forward and one aft). And not only must water get in, it is a good thing for it to get out less you sink your craft. Indeed for every "IN" there should be an "out", or at least a way for what comes in to get out. Hence, seacocks, or thru-hull, a name that accurately describes their structure. ABISHAG is blessed, or cursed, with 10 through which water passes and three (one speedo and two transducers) through which water doesn't pass, or at least shouldn't, and each has a seacock attached to control the flow of water. On ABISHAG, they are bronze and original with the boat. And that brings us to "galvanic corrosion."
Galvanic corrosion is an insidious chemical/electrical reaction which goes to show that seawater and metals of various kinds don't mix well. Suffice it to say that the process can be impressive and quick, and needs to be controlled and monitored very carefully. Drop a couple of pennies into the bilge of your aluminum boat, be it a row boat or a mega yacht, add a little seawater and you have giant battery, and holes will start appearing in your hull. The use of "sacrificial" zinc anodes usually controls the process as the zincs, being made of a "less noble metal," get eaten up first (sacrifice) before let's say your prop, or your thru-hulls. The most common process of "protection" is to connect, or bond, all the metal on your boat, especially those parts that make contact with the water, to a sacrificial anode system, monitor the anodes and replace as necessary. If you have found the "green insulation covered wire" running throughout your boat, that is your bonding wire. It was put there on purpose and all the metals parts should be connected to in some way, so don't get rid of it! True, there is currently a school of thought that suggests isolating as opposed to bonding, but the proponents are in the minority.
Now I am not sure if one or all of the previous owners of ABISHAG were subscribers to the "isolation" position, but crawling around in the bilge uncovered no bonding wire. There is a 3"wide copper ribbon that runs through the boat. Perhaps our English brethren used that instead of the "green wire", or so I thought. As it turns out, the ribbon is for the SSB Radio and is not part of the bonding system on the boat....of which there really is none beyond the zincs for the shaft and prop and the zincs for the engine.
With this in mind, an examination of the bronze thru-hulls led to a painful discovery. The exterior flanges of most were pink. Bronze, as you know, has a wonderful caramel color to it. Left to weather, it develops a wonderful green patina, like the Statue of Liberty. When there is galvanic corrosion going on, with no protection, a process called "de-zincification" begins to take place. The zinc in the bronze begins to get "eaten up" and it turns the bronze, not green, but pink and it changes from a hard, strong metal to something akin to a stale Saltine Cracker. Wire-brushing the exterior flanges clean of the bottom paint( not a good thing to paint your thru-hulls) showed the pink and a good solid whack with a hammer produced, not the good solid ring of bronze, a dull thud of a metal Saltine and broke the flange as easily as if were really were one.
Not all of them were bad, just the biggest ones and so they will have to be pulled and replaced. This is a interesting process as it seems that the English builders set them in during the last of the lay up schedule which basically means they are fiberglassed into the hull. Ah the joy of sailboat ownership. I guess the person who defined a boat a hole in the water, surrounded by fiberglass, into which you throw money was right.
O, the Dance of the Seven Sails.....coming down the ladder last week, I did what anyone who has ever come down a ladder has done. I missed the last rung and lost my balance. It was at this moment that I went into the dance everyone who has missed that last rung has done. For those of us who have done it in a boatyard, it is known as the Dance of the Seven Sails. Having lost my balance, I foolishly tried to regain it so as not to fall to the ground and look foolish to my fellow boat owners. The moves, the gyrations, the physical contortions must have looked spectacular, even more than they felt. In the end, it was a waste of energy as I landed flat on my back. One of the individuals nearby applauded and cries of "Encore" echoed through the boat yard. Yet I know that everyone of them has done the same and, if not, will one day. The downside was I ripped a muscle in the back of my thigh and butt, and it makes walking, standing, sitting, laying down painful. Unfortunately, there really isn't really a lot you can do except stay off it, eat aspirin, apply heat and try not to aggravate it. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to by many things you can do that don't aggravate it. So I have had to rest it and have fallen father behind in boat work. Needless to say, my original departure date of International Talk Like A Pirate Day (September 19th) will not be met. Next up, Columbus Day!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
On The Hard In Mystic
SHIP'S LOG:
ABISHAG was hauled, washed and blocked on August 20th at the West Mystic Shipyard. Hauling was required to renew the zincs, renew the bottom paint, replace at least two(2) thru-hulls, install the wind vane steering system. Numerous other projects that need to be done can be accomplished with greater ease out of the water rather than in.
The Master's Personal LOG:
The boat looks even bigger out of the water than she does in it.The deck is a good 10 feet off the ground which, for me, will make getting in and out exciting. Time to get started on that never ending project, fix-it list.
Spent the first day cleaning the bilge, well attempting to clean the bilge. It is tough to get much done holding your breath! I do not want to imply that it was malodorous, but it was enough to gag a maggot. No amount of cleaners could really clean the bilge without plain and simple, old fashion scrubbing. Sadly, there is also no way to attempt the scrubbing without getting lots of it on you. There's one pair of shorts and a tee-shirt that will never be worn again. A bucket full of bilge cleaner and water into the bilge, down on your hands and knees with various scrub brushes to get into all the exotic places, hose it down with fresh water, and pump it out. Like many boats, ABISHAG was built with a sump box into which ran the drains from the sinks and showers. This keep human detritus from melding with the oils and other effluents common to the running of a boat. Unfortunately, somewhere in her past, the hose connections to the sump box were disconnected and everything sort mixes together in the bilge, hence the rather pungent aroma. It took a good half dozen wash outs to get the bilge water to go from black to light grey. The fragrance has pretty much gone and I am now left with the question of whether or not to reconnect the sump box connections.
Spent a day trying to trace all of the hoses in the boat. It stretched into 3 days as there were hoses that led no where . One hose ran from the bilge all the way forward. I had to trace it under the settee, through the forward head, under the forepeak bunk and into the chain locker where it was connected to.....nothing. It might have, at one time been connected to something, but it also might be the way one of the previous owners was simply storing a large length of hose for some eventuality. Thanks goodness the eventuality didn't come as the hose had begun to deteriorate and had lost its flexibility. It split easily under all but the slightest bend and so it went to the trash heap. Tracing the hoses in each compartment meant first gaining access to them. This often meant shifting cushions, lifting out lockers and removing flooring. I tagged each hose with a white rigging tape label which often required my attaining some rather interesting bodily contortions. What added greatly to the enjoyment was the fact that weather was in the 80's and beastly humid. Normally a boat orients itself to the wind, allowing fresh air to stream into the boat through the hatches. Unfortunately, with the boat on land, it was a real crap-shoot as to when or if any breeze would get in to cool the boat and me. Invariably, I would be head down in a compartment, stretching to get to some hose, when a drop of sweat would fall on my glasses. One drop wasn't so bad, but one drop never went anywhere by itself and it wasn't long before I had to stop, get myself out of the hatch or locker, and clean off the glasses. It was a procedure that was repeated constantly. But it was only three(3) days and there was a great sense of accomplishment when I got it done.
ABISHAG was hauled, washed and blocked on August 20th at the West Mystic Shipyard. Hauling was required to renew the zincs, renew the bottom paint, replace at least two(2) thru-hulls, install the wind vane steering system. Numerous other projects that need to be done can be accomplished with greater ease out of the water rather than in.
The Master's Personal LOG:
The boat looks even bigger out of the water than she does in it.The deck is a good 10 feet off the ground which, for me, will make getting in and out exciting. Time to get started on that never ending project, fix-it list.
Spent the first day cleaning the bilge, well attempting to clean the bilge. It is tough to get much done holding your breath! I do not want to imply that it was malodorous, but it was enough to gag a maggot. No amount of cleaners could really clean the bilge without plain and simple, old fashion scrubbing. Sadly, there is also no way to attempt the scrubbing without getting lots of it on you. There's one pair of shorts and a tee-shirt that will never be worn again. A bucket full of bilge cleaner and water into the bilge, down on your hands and knees with various scrub brushes to get into all the exotic places, hose it down with fresh water, and pump it out. Like many boats, ABISHAG was built with a sump box into which ran the drains from the sinks and showers. This keep human detritus from melding with the oils and other effluents common to the running of a boat. Unfortunately, somewhere in her past, the hose connections to the sump box were disconnected and everything sort mixes together in the bilge, hence the rather pungent aroma. It took a good half dozen wash outs to get the bilge water to go from black to light grey. The fragrance has pretty much gone and I am now left with the question of whether or not to reconnect the sump box connections.
Spent a day trying to trace all of the hoses in the boat. It stretched into 3 days as there were hoses that led no where . One hose ran from the bilge all the way forward. I had to trace it under the settee, through the forward head, under the forepeak bunk and into the chain locker where it was connected to.....nothing. It might have, at one time been connected to something, but it also might be the way one of the previous owners was simply storing a large length of hose for some eventuality. Thanks goodness the eventuality didn't come as the hose had begun to deteriorate and had lost its flexibility. It split easily under all but the slightest bend and so it went to the trash heap. Tracing the hoses in each compartment meant first gaining access to them. This often meant shifting cushions, lifting out lockers and removing flooring. I tagged each hose with a white rigging tape label which often required my attaining some rather interesting bodily contortions. What added greatly to the enjoyment was the fact that weather was in the 80's and beastly humid. Normally a boat orients itself to the wind, allowing fresh air to stream into the boat through the hatches. Unfortunately, with the boat on land, it was a real crap-shoot as to when or if any breeze would get in to cool the boat and me. Invariably, I would be head down in a compartment, stretching to get to some hose, when a drop of sweat would fall on my glasses. One drop wasn't so bad, but one drop never went anywhere by itself and it wasn't long before I had to stop, get myself out of the hatch or locker, and clean off the glasses. It was a procedure that was repeated constantly. But it was only three(3) days and there was a great sense of accomplishment when I got it done.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
It's About That Name "ABISHAG"!!!!!
The Master's Personal Log:
Choosing the name for a boat is a process rife with difficulty and trouble. According to nautical tradition, you are never supposed to change the name of a boat when it changes hands. However, nowadays it seems no one is happy with the name of any used boat they acquirer and the first thing to change is the name.
Determining what to name your "new" boat is often difficult for one wants the name to be unique but not completely weird. It should say something about you and why you sail but in a way that avoid schmaltz or terminal cuteness. On the other hand you do not want a name so out there that it makes no sense. If you think about it is something akin to naming a rock & roll band. Go to your computer and get a listing of bands and the names range all over From "The Band" to " Dead Kennedys" to "Toad the Wet Sprocket." It is a wide open field.
There are actually several books on how to name your boat and if you have friends and family, the sources and suggestions are practically endless. In my 30 years of boating I have had four(4) different sailboats and have now come to the fifth that needs to be named. The first boat was a Morgan 22 which got named "SANCTUARY" courtesy of my sisters. I liked the name, a place of safety, enough to keep it for the next boat, an O'Day 27. Next up was a J/24, a pure racing boat. I bought that in attempt to find out if it was the boat or the Captain who was responsible for a rather dismal racing record.(Turns out it was the Captain!) It's name came from a shouted command that was often directed at students at the J World School in Newport. Rather than say "Hike out", the instructor of the boat I was on would yell, "Cheeks to the Teak," indicating he wanted you to sit on the teak rail that encircled the boat. When the J/24 was purchased it was the first thing that came to mind as a name, "CHEEKS TO THE TEAK." It was actually a great name. For the years I owned a boat, it was a rare sail when at least one boat did not pass by and then come back and comment on the name. Sadly when the boat was sold, the new owners changed the name was changed. How could they?
The next boat was a 27 foot Stiletto catamaran. I would have named it "CHEEKS TO THE TEAK"except for the fact that the catamaran heeled not at all, or at least not to the degree that you would need to shift weight outboard. There was also the fact that there was no teak anywhere on deck. It was all fiberglass and Air-x, Nomax, etc. I had intended to name it "CHEEKY MONKEY," simply because I liked the way a comedian, Eddie Izzard, delivered the phrase in a concert I saw, only discover there was a least one other "Cheeky Monkey" around. I just shortened it to "CHEEKY" and let it go with that.
And now the new boat. When I purchased it, it was called "BLITHE SPIRIT." Wanting to eventually take the boat outside of US waters, I wanted to officially document it. This makes it a lot less of a hassle with customs officials in foreign ports. Going through the process, I discovered that currently there were 17 US Documented boats with the name "BLITHE SPIRIT." Too many, too many, plus the name did nothing for me. I thought of going back to "CHEEKS TO THE TEAK" but the size and displacement of this boat sort of makes such a maneuver unnecessary. Should it ever become necessary, I would have other rather serious concerns, so I let it slide. Another name that was considered, and which was the last to be dropped, was "RADICAL SABBATICAL." It says a great deal about where I am these days and the journey on which I find myself, but it was, in the end, just too "cutesy."
I finally decided on "ABISHAG". It is the sort of name you come up with on a 12 hour round-trip by car between Mystic and Annapolis for the survey. For those of you who may not be as up to date on your Old Testament as you might like, "Abishag" is a name found in 1Kings 1:1-4. It is the name of a young maiden who is chosen to nurse and care for King David in his old age. My surveyor, Tommy Greaves, having completed the survey, told me, "She'll take good care of you," and now that I am getting older, my right hip is aging faster than the rest of me, it seemed strangely appropriate. So "ABISHAG" it is.
Choosing the name for a boat is a process rife with difficulty and trouble. According to nautical tradition, you are never supposed to change the name of a boat when it changes hands. However, nowadays it seems no one is happy with the name of any used boat they acquirer and the first thing to change is the name.
Determining what to name your "new" boat is often difficult for one wants the name to be unique but not completely weird. It should say something about you and why you sail but in a way that avoid schmaltz or terminal cuteness. On the other hand you do not want a name so out there that it makes no sense. If you think about it is something akin to naming a rock & roll band. Go to your computer and get a listing of bands and the names range all over From "The Band" to " Dead Kennedys" to "Toad the Wet Sprocket." It is a wide open field.
There are actually several books on how to name your boat and if you have friends and family, the sources and suggestions are practically endless. In my 30 years of boating I have had four(4) different sailboats and have now come to the fifth that needs to be named. The first boat was a Morgan 22 which got named "SANCTUARY" courtesy of my sisters. I liked the name, a place of safety, enough to keep it for the next boat, an O'Day 27. Next up was a J/24, a pure racing boat. I bought that in attempt to find out if it was the boat or the Captain who was responsible for a rather dismal racing record.(Turns out it was the Captain!) It's name came from a shouted command that was often directed at students at the J World School in Newport. Rather than say "Hike out", the instructor of the boat I was on would yell, "Cheeks to the Teak," indicating he wanted you to sit on the teak rail that encircled the boat. When the J/24 was purchased it was the first thing that came to mind as a name, "CHEEKS TO THE TEAK." It was actually a great name. For the years I owned a boat, it was a rare sail when at least one boat did not pass by and then come back and comment on the name. Sadly when the boat was sold, the new owners changed the name was changed. How could they?
The next boat was a 27 foot Stiletto catamaran. I would have named it "CHEEKS TO THE TEAK"except for the fact that the catamaran heeled not at all, or at least not to the degree that you would need to shift weight outboard. There was also the fact that there was no teak anywhere on deck. It was all fiberglass and Air-x, Nomax, etc. I had intended to name it "CHEEKY MONKEY," simply because I liked the way a comedian, Eddie Izzard, delivered the phrase in a concert I saw, only discover there was a least one other "Cheeky Monkey" around. I just shortened it to "CHEEKY" and let it go with that.
And now the new boat. When I purchased it, it was called "BLITHE SPIRIT." Wanting to eventually take the boat outside of US waters, I wanted to officially document it. This makes it a lot less of a hassle with customs officials in foreign ports. Going through the process, I discovered that currently there were 17 US Documented boats with the name "BLITHE SPIRIT." Too many, too many, plus the name did nothing for me. I thought of going back to "CHEEKS TO THE TEAK" but the size and displacement of this boat sort of makes such a maneuver unnecessary. Should it ever become necessary, I would have other rather serious concerns, so I let it slide. Another name that was considered, and which was the last to be dropped, was "RADICAL SABBATICAL." It says a great deal about where I am these days and the journey on which I find myself, but it was, in the end, just too "cutesy."
I finally decided on "ABISHAG". It is the sort of name you come up with on a 12 hour round-trip by car between Mystic and Annapolis for the survey. For those of you who may not be as up to date on your Old Testament as you might like, "Abishag" is a name found in 1Kings 1:1-4. It is the name of a young maiden who is chosen to nurse and care for King David in his old age. My surveyor, Tommy Greaves, having completed the survey, told me, "She'll take good care of you," and now that I am getting older, my right hip is aging faster than the rest of me, it seemed strangely appropriate. So "ABISHAG" it is.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Off We Go!
Master's Personal Log:
Getting underway about 4:30pm on the 14th in beautiful weather, it is what cruising is all about. The engine ran now without a problem and the temp gauge even worked, but not the tach. Oh well, you can't have everything. We had had enough glitches and we were looking forward to a nice cruise, a nice problem free cruise. It was what we expected and it was what we wanted.
The trip up the Chesapeake was wonderful. The winds were calm, the scenery was beautiful and we just lazed about in the cockpit following the Magenta Highway on the GPS. We passed and were passed by a number of boats going in all directions and we just enjoyed the day and the early evening. Chris played with the ancient radar and got it to work...after a fashion. The cursor wouldn't move and the contrast never quite got to where you could easily check the screen without loosing your night vision. It is an old Raymarine L90 with a bright screen and dark images. Not a particularly helpful arrangement but certainly it will be better than nothing when we cross the Traffic Lane going in and out of NYC on the run from Cape May to Montauk.
I hit the sack about 10pm hoping to start the Watch System (2hours on, 4 off) and was rousted by Chris at midnight. When I made it to the cockpit I saw that we had entered the C&D Canal and were being passed by what appeared to be a car carrier headed to the Chesapeake. The C& D Canal does not appear to be a particularly wide waterway, especially in the dark, and sliding by a ship several times our length and rising far above our 53ft mainmast, silhouetted by a few shore lights and our combined Nav lights does give one pause to consider the location of the PFDs.
My 2 hour shift was uneventful and was most enjoyable. I was bonding to the boat and it is a process that requires a little time alone with each other. I was really feeling quite peaceful and happy when my shift ended and I hit the rack again. Things were going perfectly and the boat and crew had settled into a cruising mode. Next stop was Cape May and then on to Montauk. Did I just hear someone giggle?
When I woke for my next turn at the wheel things had changed. We had cleared the C&D Canal and we were headed down Delaware Bay for Cape May. The wind had picked-up and it was on the nose. It was being pushed by a big storm in the South and, with the tide ebbing, it was producing lots of nice square 4-5ft waves right into the bow. There was no rhythm to the waves but it seemed that the 5th, or the 6th, or the 7th seemed to be especially square and brought water over the bow. We discovered that the forward hatch had a bit of leak problem as it drove Kenny from the forepeak complaining that it was raining in there. It was a tiring trick at the wheel as I couldn't get into the rhythm of the boat, if there was one. My hands got sore wreatling with the wheel. Checking the compass or the GPS guaranteed that the boat would get punched in the nose and pushed one way or the other necessitating a course correction which often went too far. That required a re-correction and, after several of these back and forths, having settled back course, another punch would send the boat off course and we had to do the whole dance all over again. It was quite the 2 hour trick.
Unfortunately, Kenny began to suffer from "Mal de mare". The bilge had 30 some odd years of oil and assorted other effluents in it and it produce a rather pungent nose. We had bought a couple of bottles of bilge cleaner and micro-biotics into the bilge, all of which promised a wonderful transformation of the bilge contents. They may have made a start at making a beginning to cleaning and rectifying the bilge but progress was not particularly noticeable...nose-wise. Suffice it to say that this did not aid Kenny in trying to keep from feeding the fishes. No matter what he ate, it did not settle his stomach and he never quite got it under control. Some ginger gum he bought just before we shoved off helped some but not completely. After one particularly spectacular Technicolor yawn, he lay down on a seat in the cockpit and philosophised, " Just because you would like to do something and have the opportunity to do it, doesn't mean that you should."
It was along run, or should I say slog, to Cape May. It took 18 hours of wave punching. It was easier in the daylight when you could see the waves coming, but not by a lot. We pulled into the South Jersey Marina in Cape May for fuel, food and showers. I felt almost human again and it was very pleasant to sit in the non-moving cockpit and enjoy lunch. There was a big Deep Sea Fishing Tourney being sponsored by the Canyon Club and the Marina was filling up fast and since we didn't want to pay for tying up, it meant it was time for us to go and go we did.
Exiting Cape May and setting course for Montauk we discovered the wind was on our Starboard hip and the 4-5ft waves were now more rollers than square cut. Still no rhythm but now we surfed every now and then and occasionally dropped off a wave if they were too closely packed. It was a much more pleasant motion for us...except for Ken. The run to Montauk would be a 189 miles. With the tide and the current and the wind all in our favor, we did quite well, doing better than 7.5 knots average and sometimes topping out at over 9. It was a better run than had been the Delaware.
Getting out of sight of land for the first time is eerie. Even though we never got more than 35 miles out, it is still a little disconcerting to look around and not see land. At night you can see the the light blooms from big towns and cities and you know they are they, but during the day, aside from passing ships, you are all by yourself in your little 39 ft world. It is difficult to express it exactly.
2 hours on, 4 hours off, breakfast, 2 hours on, 4 hours off, lunch, 2 hours on, 4 hours off, dinner, 2 hours on, 4 hours off, snack time, 2 hours on, 4 hours off and so on. The wind moderated and drop to a light breeze. Few boat were seen which was surprising especially crossing through the Ambrose Traffic Lanes out of New York. At night, long line fishermen, identifiable by their lights, wanted to chat, usually about nothing in particular, just to pass the time. 2 on, 4 off and a major discovery. The port settee pull out into a double and, being in the center of the boat, moves almost not at all. It was perfect, right at the bottom of the ladder from the cockpit. Just climb down and fall down and go to sleep. Of course, this change in sleeping arrangements nearly gave Chris a heart attack. He came down to call me for my watch and went to the rear cabin where I had been sleeping. I wasn't there and his first thought was "Man Overboard." He was rushing back to the cockpit when he saw me on the settee. I think his deep sigh of relief was what woke me.
It was a unanimous crew decision that we would over night in Montauk. It would be another chance for showers, fuel, more bilge cleaner, a restaurant cooked meal and a stable sleeping platform. Dinner cost us almost all our cash as we picked a restaurant with a good reputation which we discovered, too late, did not take credit cards. We had a great dinner and returned to the boat and slept the sleep of the just or the dead, or whoever sleeps the soundest.
We got underway on Friday morning about 9am and headed for Mystic and the haul out. On this short jaunt we complied a list of things that needed to be worked on. It is quite extensive and will not be completed before I take off again. As many as possible will be addressed during the haul out, but even if I should get through the last items in this list, others will be added to it. Things-to-do lists, boat project lists never come to an end. Work ends only when money and/or time and /or a lack of materials causes a cessation. It is a never ending list.
We arrived at the West Mystic Shipyard just about noon, tied up and closed up the boat. It was a good shake down cruise. I found out what works, (most things) and what doesn't(a few things). I bonded with the boat which will make putting holes in her, riping things out and replacing others a whole lot easier. I realize that the Giggler had the plan. One of the things I have wondered about was crossing the Gulf Stream in the future which I will have to do at some point or other. I've only done that once and it was mill pond smooth that time. But this little jaunt, especially the Delaware Bay and the run to Montauk ,was a good example of what the Stream can throw up and I feel a lot better about it now. It was a great trip.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
The Journey From There To Here
September 2, 2007
The Master's Personal Log:
Buying a boat is an exercise in frustration, heartache, angst, highs & lows, joy, ecstasy and numbing shock. It is also, as anyone who has ever done it, a total irrational act. However, it is a story that will have to wait for the present. Suffice it to say that monies change hands and I became the owner of a 1977, Camper Nicholson 39 foot, center-cockpit ketch,Hull #31. And once it owned me, my primary desire was to get the boat from Annapolis, Maryland, to Mystic, Connecticut, as quickly as I could.
Initially, I toyed with the idea of having it transport by truck but good friends pointed out that doing so would cost me a very valuable shake-down cruise on which I could learn a lot about the boat. They also pointed out that it would be frightfully expensive to have it trucked and not having a lot of money this had an impact. So I got new friend, Capt. Chris Nebel- a delivery captain among other pursuits, and old friend, Ken Soudan, to join me in bringing "Blithe Spirit" up to New England.
We rented a car and drove to Annapolis, intending to get to the boat and shove off for Mystic. Chris had already plotted out a route and with the three of us rotating tricks, 2 hours on - 4 hours off, keeping to 6 knots, we should make the 325 mile trip in a little over two days. We would leave Annapolis mid-afternoon Monday, August 13th, and arrive Wednesday, August 15th, around noon. That was the plan I had ......but I had forgotten the fact that Custer had a plan, too!
We left Chris' house in Guilford,CT, at 11am but we didn't get to New Jersey 2pm. Getting across the Hudson is never easy. As a result, we finally pulled into Port Annapolis Marina about 6pm. The boat had been splashed at 5pm and was at the dock "ready to go." I figured we take an hour or so and then head out. That was the new plan...as as the old proverb goes, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans!", and I thought I heard some giggling.
We unloaded the car of the provisions and personal gear we had brought for the trip. While Christ familiarized himself with the boat and the engine, Ken and I took the stored gear from the marina locker and tried to find places to store it on the boat. It is truly amazing just how fast 39feet of boat can get filled up! All this activity to another 2 hours and it was then that Chris said he felt that it would be best to leave the next day. We had no idea how much fuel we had in the tank and, as the boat had been on the hard for over a year, what we had was old, probably more varnish that diesel. There we no filters, the batteries we flat, and we couldn't be sure what worked and what didn't. It would be wise, Chris suggested, to go before we got some of this sorted out, something always better done in the light of day. By unanimous vote, we decided to spend the night in Annapolis.
A quick trip to the local West Marine procured that necessary items, mechanical and electrical, that were needed, along with a coffee pot for Christ, a true coffee addict. Ken and Christ went to work on the boat while I went and dropped off the car. I got a nice tour of "Annapolis after Dark" as the car rental agency was not where its website said it was and locating its new location was a bit of chore. A 20 minute project turned into a 90 minute chore. I didn't get back to the marina and the boat until 9pm to find Chris and Ken head down in the engine compartment. They had gotten the boat plugged into the shore power and were charging the batteries. They also had just about every light in the boat on and the engine running. Things were looking good (giggle).
Running the engine for 30 minutes produced a filter brown with diesel that was almost varnish. Filter change, run again, filter change, run, filter change,... the fuel was not good. But the engine would run to get us to the nearby fuel dock where we would add new fuel and all sorts of chemicals.
The electrics were something else. Things went on and off of their own accord and tracing wires was an exercise is frustration. Like many older boats, each new owner added and subtracted different pieces of electrical hardware over the years and since removed the old completely before installing the new was time consuming, the previous owners had taken the common course of cutting off old wires in place and then running the new....and not labeling either. Ken and Chris had been able to track down and get functioning the VHF radio, Nav lights, and jury rigged a functioning bilge pump, such that we could count on them working when needed. This did not preclude other and varied pieces of electrical equipment going on and off at will, or not working whatsoever. Hardware on a boat seems to detest inactivity and having sat for over a year, there was a lot of hardware detesting going on. We crashed about midnight with a plan to leave the next morning bright and early.(Giggle)
Early the next morning at the crack of 8:30am, we got up and preformed our individual morning ablutions. We hit the ship's store for a few last minute items, like fire extinguishers and bilge cleaner, and had breakfast( burritos ) and then it was time to go. Last thing was to walk the "FOR SALE" sign up to the brokers office. At 10:30am, we pulled away from the dock and I can't begin to say how excited I was. True this first trip was only a couple of hundred yards to the fuel dock, but we were on our way. It was fuel up and then off to Mystic. (Giggle)
We made the fuel dock just fine but getting the fuel into the boat proved a bit of a problem. It took us a couple of hours to find the fuel fill. Rather than a simple deck plate fill like that for water, diesel fill was "hidden" inside the locker for the propane cylinders. To make things just a little more interesting and exciting, the fuel fill cap opened to reveal another fuel fill cap and both had been sitting for over a year...read "detest." Ken bent the key getting the plates off. We added the proper chemicals to "shock" the old fuel as the new mixed in and topped off the tank. Actually a little more than topped off as I discovered the fuel vent as fuel spurted out of it. It was (giggle) on the port side of the boat, opposite of the fuel fill.
But we were filled and ready to go and so we "hit the road" as it were. The tach didn't work, sometimes registering nothing and other times absurdly irregular amounts of revs. The temperature gauge was not suppose to work but it seem to and so in a rather "iffy" working state we were on our way at last. (Giggle)
At noon, I decided to start the watch schedule and headed below for a nap. It seemed almost immediately I could hear Christ saying "We have an issued." The temp gauge, which evidently was working, was reading hot and the coolant was spilling on the engine from the overflow bottle. The engine was overheating and had to be shut down. We had sails up but there was no way would could continue without a working engine. We had to call for a tow back to the Marina we just left and were back at the dock a 1pm. The first cruise lasted 7 miles! I was not happy.
While the mechanic worked, I spent the time arranging stuff on the boat, trying to find a place for everything and getting a clearer picture of what we had and what we didn't, all the time hoping that the problem was something simple. The mechanic's best guess was that it was a vapor lock in the cooling system, so it was cleared and topped off. We ran the engine for an hour and it didn't heat up and so we took the leap of faith that the problem was solved. We left for the second time at 4:30pm and celebrated when we got to the point of the previous problem with the engine running just fine.
The route Chris had laid out for us was north up the Chesapeake to the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal, through the C & D Canal, down Delaware Bay to Cape May. We would re-fuel at Cape May and then a 189 mile run from Cape May to Montauk. Fuel up at Montauk and from there to Mystic and the haul out. It was 325 miles, at an average of 6 knots, for a trip of 54+ hours. What could be simpler.
The Master's Personal Log:
Buying a boat is an exercise in frustration, heartache, angst, highs & lows, joy, ecstasy and numbing shock. It is also, as anyone who has ever done it, a total irrational act. However, it is a story that will have to wait for the present. Suffice it to say that monies change hands and I became the owner of a 1977, Camper Nicholson 39 foot, center-cockpit ketch,Hull #31. And once it owned me, my primary desire was to get the boat from Annapolis, Maryland, to Mystic, Connecticut, as quickly as I could.
Initially, I toyed with the idea of having it transport by truck but good friends pointed out that doing so would cost me a very valuable shake-down cruise on which I could learn a lot about the boat. They also pointed out that it would be frightfully expensive to have it trucked and not having a lot of money this had an impact. So I got new friend, Capt. Chris Nebel- a delivery captain among other pursuits, and old friend, Ken Soudan, to join me in bringing "Blithe Spirit" up to New England.
We rented a car and drove to Annapolis, intending to get to the boat and shove off for Mystic. Chris had already plotted out a route and with the three of us rotating tricks, 2 hours on - 4 hours off, keeping to 6 knots, we should make the 325 mile trip in a little over two days. We would leave Annapolis mid-afternoon Monday, August 13th, and arrive Wednesday, August 15th, around noon. That was the plan I had ......but I had forgotten the fact that Custer had a plan, too!
We left Chris' house in Guilford,CT, at 11am but we didn't get to New Jersey 2pm. Getting across the Hudson is never easy. As a result, we finally pulled into Port Annapolis Marina about 6pm. The boat had been splashed at 5pm and was at the dock "ready to go." I figured we take an hour or so and then head out. That was the new plan...as as the old proverb goes, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans!", and I thought I heard some giggling.
We unloaded the car of the provisions and personal gear we had brought for the trip. While Christ familiarized himself with the boat and the engine, Ken and I took the stored gear from the marina locker and tried to find places to store it on the boat. It is truly amazing just how fast 39feet of boat can get filled up! All this activity to another 2 hours and it was then that Chris said he felt that it would be best to leave the next day. We had no idea how much fuel we had in the tank and, as the boat had been on the hard for over a year, what we had was old, probably more varnish that diesel. There we no filters, the batteries we flat, and we couldn't be sure what worked and what didn't. It would be wise, Chris suggested, to go before we got some of this sorted out, something always better done in the light of day. By unanimous vote, we decided to spend the night in Annapolis.
A quick trip to the local West Marine procured that necessary items, mechanical and electrical, that were needed, along with a coffee pot for Christ, a true coffee addict. Ken and Christ went to work on the boat while I went and dropped off the car. I got a nice tour of "Annapolis after Dark" as the car rental agency was not where its website said it was and locating its new location was a bit of chore. A 20 minute project turned into a 90 minute chore. I didn't get back to the marina and the boat until 9pm to find Chris and Ken head down in the engine compartment. They had gotten the boat plugged into the shore power and were charging the batteries. They also had just about every light in the boat on and the engine running. Things were looking good (giggle).
Running the engine for 30 minutes produced a filter brown with diesel that was almost varnish. Filter change, run again, filter change, run, filter change,... the fuel was not good. But the engine would run to get us to the nearby fuel dock where we would add new fuel and all sorts of chemicals.
The electrics were something else. Things went on and off of their own accord and tracing wires was an exercise is frustration. Like many older boats, each new owner added and subtracted different pieces of electrical hardware over the years and since removed the old completely before installing the new was time consuming, the previous owners had taken the common course of cutting off old wires in place and then running the new....and not labeling either. Ken and Chris had been able to track down and get functioning the VHF radio, Nav lights, and jury rigged a functioning bilge pump, such that we could count on them working when needed. This did not preclude other and varied pieces of electrical equipment going on and off at will, or not working whatsoever. Hardware on a boat seems to detest inactivity and having sat for over a year, there was a lot of hardware detesting going on. We crashed about midnight with a plan to leave the next morning bright and early.(Giggle)
Early the next morning at the crack of 8:30am, we got up and preformed our individual morning ablutions. We hit the ship's store for a few last minute items, like fire extinguishers and bilge cleaner, and had breakfast( burritos ) and then it was time to go. Last thing was to walk the "FOR SALE" sign up to the brokers office. At 10:30am, we pulled away from the dock and I can't begin to say how excited I was. True this first trip was only a couple of hundred yards to the fuel dock, but we were on our way. It was fuel up and then off to Mystic. (Giggle)
We made the fuel dock just fine but getting the fuel into the boat proved a bit of a problem. It took us a couple of hours to find the fuel fill. Rather than a simple deck plate fill like that for water, diesel fill was "hidden" inside the locker for the propane cylinders. To make things just a little more interesting and exciting, the fuel fill cap opened to reveal another fuel fill cap and both had been sitting for over a year...read "detest." Ken bent the key getting the plates off. We added the proper chemicals to "shock" the old fuel as the new mixed in and topped off the tank. Actually a little more than topped off as I discovered the fuel vent as fuel spurted out of it. It was (giggle) on the port side of the boat, opposite of the fuel fill.
But we were filled and ready to go and so we "hit the road" as it were. The tach didn't work, sometimes registering nothing and other times absurdly irregular amounts of revs. The temperature gauge was not suppose to work but it seem to and so in a rather "iffy" working state we were on our way at last. (Giggle)
At noon, I decided to start the watch schedule and headed below for a nap. It seemed almost immediately I could hear Christ saying "We have an issued." The temp gauge, which evidently was working, was reading hot and the coolant was spilling on the engine from the overflow bottle. The engine was overheating and had to be shut down. We had sails up but there was no way would could continue without a working engine. We had to call for a tow back to the Marina we just left and were back at the dock a 1pm. The first cruise lasted 7 miles! I was not happy.
While the mechanic worked, I spent the time arranging stuff on the boat, trying to find a place for everything and getting a clearer picture of what we had and what we didn't, all the time hoping that the problem was something simple. The mechanic's best guess was that it was a vapor lock in the cooling system, so it was cleared and topped off. We ran the engine for an hour and it didn't heat up and so we took the leap of faith that the problem was solved. We left for the second time at 4:30pm and celebrated when we got to the point of the previous problem with the engine running just fine.
The route Chris had laid out for us was north up the Chesapeake to the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal, through the C & D Canal, down Delaware Bay to Cape May. We would re-fuel at Cape May and then a 189 mile run from Cape May to Montauk. Fuel up at Montauk and from there to Mystic and the haul out. It was 325 miles, at an average of 6 knots, for a trip of 54+ hours. What could be simpler.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
The Beginning
SHIP's LOG: August 31, 2007:
The S/V ABISHAG is a 39 foot Camper Nicholson Ketch. It was build in England in 1977 and is Hull #31. ABISHAG was purchased by me in July of 2007 and, along with two friends, was brought from Annapolis, MD, to Mystic, CT. She had been on the hard for over a year and, after a short 4 day delivery cruise, is once again "on the hard" in the West Mystic Shipyard being outfitted and readied for the future.
The S/V ABISHAG is a 39 foot Camper Nicholson Ketch. It was build in England in 1977 and is Hull #31. ABISHAG was purchased by me in July of 2007 and, along with two friends, was brought from Annapolis, MD, to Mystic, CT. She had been on the hard for over a year and, after a short 4 day delivery cruise, is once again "on the hard" in the West Mystic Shipyard being outfitted and readied for the future.
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