rossl32123

[rossl32123]

Overcast Clouds, 17°C

7 Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney NSW 2083, Australia

Fixing the engine, round two.

And for the second time I tell this story (bloody computers).

I may not have mentioned this already, but the work I did on the engine last winter has turned out to be incomplete. I remember a conversation with my friendly diesel injection pump specialist concerning the rebuild of the top half of the engine wherein I was asking questions and looking for guidance on how to clean out the crankcase and ascertain the state of the crank. When I asked the question "would you go all the way and pull the whole engine out?", the answer was simply "yes". The whole idea of going to those lengths frightened me, so I didn't. 

Although we had a great cruise over the Xmas break, and a number of fun expeditions throughout summer, there was the nagging doubt, coupled with the emergence of a ticking sound and lower than normal oil pressure during normal operations. I checked tappet settings, tried using the screw driver stethiscope to locate the sound, tried operating at different revs etc, but I knew in my heart that I should have done the full rebuild when I had the oportunity. Now I didn't know what to do, so I took her out on the river and ran her at full throttle until something broke. After about 30 mins the oil temperature started to rise and suddenly the revs began to falter, so I pulled the throttle immediately. She continued to idle without problems, but I suspected the begginings of piston seizure.

So that settled it, I had to pull the whole motor out and find the problem. It was the last thing I wanted to be doing this winter, but I knew I wasnt going anywhere without a motor I could rely on, and time is getting short to the big off. 

It didnt take too many weekends to strip off all the ancillary parts and get down to the block. What to do next took a huge amount of mental energy. I had already decided to do this job on the mooring, I'm still not sure that was a good move, but I am pretty sure it will save me a good deal of money, and since I am pretty sure the engine isn't coming out of the boat without a lot of boat coming apart, the work was going to be done in the main cabin anyway. The jury is currently out on whether these were good decisions.

The two main problems yet to be solved are: how to get the gearbox and prop shaft off and how to hoist the motor high enough to allow a floor to be put under it, and allow it to be hefted onto its side for further dismantling. The main issues with the gearbox are whether to remove the coupling to the prop shaft and try to push the shaft back out of the way without losing it out of the back of the boat (and then avoid the subsequent sinking). This is essential to ensure it doesn't get bent by the weight of the gearbox which is only supported by the bolts through the adapter plate. After receiving alot of advice pretty much all of it along the lines of, "get some professional help", I've decided to engage a marine mechanic to help.

With the engine lift the main issue is the weight, and the fact that the center of mass sit's in an awkward position with no lifting point above it, or easy way to get a hoist around it. Once the gearbox is off the lift can take place. The motor is just sitting on its mounts as I write, waiting. I have employed two hardwood beams to make a boom gallows over the center hatch. From the boom I will drop a mooring line down to act as support for a fore and aft beam in the main cabin. The aft end of this beam should sit fairly well on the hatch coaming. From this beam I can then hang a hoist and attach straps to the hoist hook from the lifting points on the engine. These points I have had to construct from mild steel strap, with large shackles fitted.

The next worry is the lift itself. Being on a mooring means you can't rely on having a stable platform to work on for long, so as soon as the engine is lifted I will have to brace it from lateral movement. Then the lift will require a bit of maneuvering to avoid a few obstacles, like the exhaust outlet and the anchor wash down pump, and will have to come up by about a meter. Next the floor beams will have to go down to support a simple dolly, which should, I'm hoping, allow the engine to be lowered onto it, and wheeled away to a point under the main cabin hatch. From there a direct lift will enable the dolly to be removed, a protective floor laid for engine to sit on, and eventually be laid on its side. After I have it where I can work on it I can close the hatch over the engine bay, and get back to work on the block.

I'm thinking this should be the easy part. We'll see. More about that next month!

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[rossl32123]

Broken Clouds, 14°C

7 Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney NSW 2083, Australia

Of jobs

So many jobs, so little time. What have I been doing with myself.

Resealing leaking hatches. Of all the jobs taken on this year resealing the forward hatch has taken the most time. It would have helped alot to have known the hatch was bolted down before I started, not screwed. To get access to the nuts you have to take down the ceiling lining, including removing the hand rails, then remove the hatch lining. Once it was all apart I sanded back all the woodwork and varnished it with as many coats as I thought I could get away with, then put it all back together with at least half a tube if sikaflex. I think it still leaks!

The sail locker hatch came apart much more easily, there is no ceiling liner in that part of the boat. Much sikaflex, and butyl tape on the bolt heads seems to have got this one done although I still suspect leaks.

I took the foot of the self tackers boom off the deck and rebedded it with butyl tape.

The anchor winch has been dismantled and the lower clutch remachined.

The main anchor chain has been removed from the locker, measured (80m), marked at 10m intervals, and returned to the locker. The bitter end was treated with some anti rust spray.

Both anchor rodes are now all gal shackles and swivels. All shackles have been seized but I might switch to cable ties for that job, particularly as playing with different anchor/chain combinations requires undoing the shackles, which isn't so easy once they have been seized with stainless wire.

Both head sails have been inspected by a sail maker and restitching done where it has flogged out. Toe and head tacks have also been cleaned up.

The sailmaker has also replaced all the clears that were smashed by the hail storm last year, and built me a new mizzen. The old one tore at the leech clew, so I had it repaired, but then it tore again as I was trying to bend it back on. He wasn't so keen to repair it again. The clears need some new studs fitting to the cockpit canopy, which I still have to do. The corrosion in the aluminum frame where the old ones pulled out is quite bad, probably because of the stainless fittings weren't isolated properly.

I fitted a new set of blocks on the self tackers sheet track so that I can control the car from the cockpit. This required jam cleats and guides as well, but I got quite alot of the components second hand so it wasn't too expensive. I came up with this solution after the self tacker flogged the sheet car back and forth along the traveller and blew out the stops and the track end caps, which you can't get anymore for the type of track I have.

More hatch work. The aft cabin hatch wouldn't come apart, even after I took all the head lining down around it. I just could not get the hatch liner to come out, so I though to myself, "How much of this taking to bits regime do I have to force on myself? All the woodwork I had removed I cleaned up and varnished, then I cleaned up the hatch and liner/surround, taped it off and varnished it all in place. Since it didn't seem to leak through the flange, only through one corner of the main seal, and the control gasket, I figured I'd get away with it.

Also, the main cabin has two small hatches, these don't leak either, so I sanded their liners back in situ, and varnished them (3 coats). The big hatch in the main cabin is next, followed by the woodwork at the entry although I've already started this (couldn't help myself). There's also a bit of woodwork under the main sheet traveller which I've started preparing to varnish.

The genoa halyard was replaced, at the same time I ran up a block to the head of the sail so that I could reave a halyard to it for raising the spare genoa onto the same foil for going wing on wing.

I've started work on a solution for preventing halyards from tangling in the mast steps. This will involve climbing both masts at some stage to run light lines up the outside of the steps, then drilling through the steps to fit cable ties (or some such) to hold the line in place.

The steering disconnect control cable has been replaced.

A new topping lift has been installed on the mizzen boom.

The diesel heater has been demystified. After using all the diesel from the header tank last year it's remained empty while I figured out how to top it up again. That required quite a bit of time tracing plumbing and electrical cabling. Eventually I worked out that the "circulation pump" switch on the DC panel also allows the lift pump to top up the tank, provided you open the tap next to the gen set, and pull the switch under the heater. What had me really confused to start with was that I didn't know where the pump was, and the circulation pump is for water through the wet back, so how did the diesel get into the tank? Also, the sight tube was so brown inside that at first I thought it was copper pipe, then once I replaced it I couldn't figure out the tap at the top of the tank. It turned out that the bleed valve you close when you fill the tank so that any overflow goes down the return line, and you open it so as to avoid an airlock when your using the heater. The sight guage is also part of the filling line, which provided another level of confusion, as you can't tell the level in the tank while filling it. You have to turn the pump off and wait for the level to settle. Anyway, it's all good now, really cosy in fact, except that the water circulation doesn't seem to be reaching the heat exchangers fore and aft, but that problem is low on the list.

The saltwater pump for the desk wash down wasn't working too well. I started by replacing the ancient old gross particle filter with a more modern plastic one, but the pump still only runs for about 2 or 3 minutes before petering out. While searching under the rear cabin berth I discovered 2 other pumps in a plastic bag, underneath where the installed pump was. I'm not sure why they were stashed there because they were rubbish, but perhaps they were there to remind me just how long these things last.

I cleaned up alot of mess from under the rear cabin berth, including about half a litre of spilt Dextron. I would like to know where that came from as there were no obvious signs. I also restowed the spare engine parts under there to make room for more personal items in the foot locker, and I worked out a way of rolling the mattress out of the way so that you can get at that area. Previously I had been pulling the mattress off the bed and into the companionway, which was an all around pain. Now I can lift both ends to access a length of webbing which I can use to tie the mattress into a roll.

Rooting around under the stove I discovered that the igniters do have a power source. Ive been using a gas lighter for the last two years. It is only a small AA battery, but it had plenty of life in it so I returned it to its holder and lo, spark ignition!

The chart table chair now slides forward on its track, and locks as designed.

I replaced the broken pin in the track slider that the whisker pole snaps onto with a dowel of hard wood. I've also managed to get a second slider organised, it's pretty rough, but you have to have one if you want to wing on wing the headsails. Now I just need to free up the seized pin in the spare whisker pole, and work out how to get the spare slider onto the mast track.

I took the main compass off the binnacle, thinking that perhaps I'd better inspect and oil the engine control lines. There was a fair bit of corrosion in the compass mount as the screws where stainless through aluminium. I have an idea to replace the whole control panel at some stage. The compass is a bit of an anachronism these days but I'm not sure if I should toss it out. The depth guage is so old it uses vacuum tubes to display the numbers, but it does work. The GPSs screen has burnt out, although the unit still works! The wind indicator panel is fine, although it only gives apparent wind at the moment, however, the wind speed sensor is unreliable. Since it is also an ancient unit (despite being self powered and wireless) you can't get parts for it. When I climb the mast to do the step protector job I'll have to take it down and figure out what I can do with it. I really would like to have a completely wireless system of wind speed and direction, hull speed, depth and sea temp coming through to a couple of guages by the wheel, and also to the computer and any other device that can use the data, like iSailor and OpenCPN.

I was dissappointed with the amount of power the vacuum cleaner gets through. It's almost as bad as the microwave. When you pull 100 amps from the battery bank the voltage drops very quickly, and puts the batteries under stress. Two minutes of vacuuming will do it. I did discover that besides running the battery charger part of the inverter, the gen set will also power all the 120V sockets, when it's running. This was a surprise as I was under the impression that the gen set only recharged the battery bank. Now I know I can run all the 120V equipment on the boat I like, provided I put up with the gen set running.

I have discovered the trick to the 2hp outboard! It has always been a problem for me, so much so the I stopped using it for quite a while. Even after dealing with getting water in the carburettor all the time it still ran unreliably, usually quitting after having only run for 50m. After some considerable time putting up with it, it became apparent that it was fuel starvation. If I tilted the motor up when it was just about to die, it would fire up again for another 5m. Looking into the fuel tank one day I discovered that the inlet pipe sat up off the bottom of the tank by a good 2-3cm. With the angle of the transom on the dinghy, plus the inlet pipe being on the high side of the tank you only have to run the tank down about a third before she starts sucking air. Unfortunately you can't level the motor off as the fitting adjustment as rusted up solid. Never mind, atleast I know now that you just have to keep the tank topped up.

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[rossl32123]

Summer Cruise 2019-20.

Dates are approximate only, unless otherwise specified, and are dependant mainly on weather. Which is particularly true in Tasmania where a close eye has to be kept on the forcast, which can change rapidly and be inclement for long periods.

Brooklyn to the South Coast, leaving sometime in October/November. Possible stops are;

Sydney Harbour (23nm), sightseeing, shopping

Port Hacking (38nm), shelter

Jervis Bay (100nm), wake boarding, diving

Ulladulla (111nm), shelter, shopping

Batemans Bay (150nm), shelter, shopping

Bermagui (195nm), shelter, surfing

Eden (233nm), shelter, shopping

South Coast to Tasmania, crossing Bass Strait. Possible stops are (distances from Eden);

Flinders Island (195nm), plenty of anchorages.

Cape Barren Island (210nm) stop for facilities at Lady Barron (tricky place with tides and sandbanks and few anchorages).

Bay of Fires (240nm) not sure where to stop for this!

St Helens (255nm) difficult access 

Freycinett (305nm), includes Wineglass Bay and Schouten Is

Maria Island (335nm), good bush walks

Dunalley, Denison Canal (shortcut to Hobart, avoids Tasman peninsula, but dodgy)

Hobart (412nm) for Xmas

Around Hobart and Storm Bay. Possible stops are (all points are within 45nm from Hobart);

Kettering, marina facilities.

Bruny Island, New Years. Plenty of anchorages, like Kadens corner in Adventure Bay and down the D'Entrecasteaux Channel.

Tasman Peninsula, includes; Port Arthur and Fortescue Bay (good spot to do Cape Pillar walk). Facilities at Nubeena.

Port Huon, Huon river. 

Southport

Recherche Bay, last stop before heading around Southwest Cape and on to the wilderness areas.

Around the bottom. The only stops are in; (distances from Recherche Bay)

Port Davey and Bathurst Harbour (60nm). Southwest National Park wilderness area, no roads only an airstrip at Melaleuca. Great bush walking and mountain climbing. 

Macquarie Harbour (120nm), Stahan for supplies. Franklin River provides excellent adventure..  

Around the top, not too many places to stop along here.

Cape Grim, Hunter Island and Mosquito Point. Can't wait for those places.

Stanley

Burnie, apparently not much of a harbour.

Georgetown/Devonport, river Tamar. Navigable to Launceston (worth a try)  

Portland

Return to Sydney by mid February. 

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[rossl32123]

Overcast Clouds, 26°C

Hole in the Wall Access Track, Jervis Bay JBT 2540, Australia

Summer Cruise

Day 1: https://youtu.be/Ktpb_hW0xK0 Day 2: https://youtu.be/ut_13p10Rk0 Day 3 - 5: https://youtu.be/LNgzrkcHUkA Day 6: https://youtu.be/WqLvjQ6Ikx8 Day 8 - 12: https://youtu.be/AQ6oAs4iWcA

This year's summer cruise is up and running. Most of the fun stuff will be in the vlog, but there will be some nitty gritty left over inevitably.

It didnt take long for the shit to start happening.

Before we even left Brooklyn we had our first problems. A heavy thunderstorm bearing very large hail had done some considerable damage to the fleet in Parsley Bay the previous week, including punching holes in all my clears. Fortunately that was the only damage on Sea Whisper, others werent so lucky. The stove wouldn’t work, so no coffee! We resolved to fix it once we were at anchor that night. Try as we might, it was cold tucker for tea.

We started with swapping cylinders thinking the one in use must have run out although it seemed to have something slopping around inside. Opening the valve didn’t help resolve the issue, nothing emanating left us wondering, especially as the unused cylinder seemed to be empty also. That was a worry! The cylinder for the BBQ also appeared to be empty although I knew it couldn’t be. We finally got the message, gas won’t come out if a pigtail is not fitted! So now we had to assume it was a regulator problem. While taking the regulator out we heard the cut off solenoid click, which instantly gave the game away, it was a dry joint in the wiring, so we cut out the bad joint and soldered in a new one and everything worked again. Hoorah!

Once we had gas it meant we could shower, but that just resurrected the problem of the poor hose connection from the califont into the copper reticulation. In the middle of Andy’s shower I heard the plastic pipe burst off the copper and instantly had to shut the pressure pump to preserve our water supply. That meant that we had to get that fixed as soon as we stopped the next night for no water is much worse than no gas. Fortunately I had had the presence of mind to save some in a separate drum for just this possibility.

Next day Andy managed to reconnect the hot water hose, and double clamp it, so we weren’t expecting anymore trouble from it, but this was not to be. A couple of days later we lifted the soul in the main cabin to discover it was flooded. This pointed to a slow leak somewhere. Fortunately we hadn’t turned on both tanks, so it was only half our capacity gone. But it now meant that we could have water pressure only when we needed it, and had to turn it off immediately afterward. We figured that maybe a leak had been caused by blowing another connection in the forward end of the boat, since I had taken a shower in the forward head, the first I’d had there. We were looking for a leak that was losing about 2 to 3 litres every 5 mins. We pulled up the floors and cleared out the junk to sight all the pipe runs and joints, and found nothing. We then decided to move to the stern and follow all water pipes forward to the tanks, and once again found nothing, but we could hear gushing water coming from behind the fridge. This was a surprise as it turned out to be the same joint again and we weren’t expecting that, but it was, and back down Andy went, head first into the tiny space under the califont to tighten the same hose clips again. That seemed to finally fix the problem although we aren’t sure about the pump now, it seems to start up and not pump every now and again, and consequently not turn itself off. That wasn't the end of the water problems, but we weren't to know.

We had sail issues right from day 1. This was the day we blew out the light weight spinnaker. I was below at the time so I didn’t see what happened but I’m guessing the sail wasn’t as strong as it used to be and simply let go at a stitching line across the middle. It was a mad scramble to get it down, and once it was in the bag I stashed it, and still haven’t got it out to examine it forensically.

The other sail issue was the mizzen. On our way back up the coast I noticed it had developed a crease up from the clew that wasn’t normal. Thinking it just needed tensioning on the halyard we didn’t look into the boom bag, so didn’t notice the clew was pulling out due to the bolt rope having let go. So a short while later there were ripping sounds, and we were forced to quickly drop her into the bag, never to be seen for the rest of the trip.

The two traveller tracks both took damage. On the main sheet traveller the starboard end stop flew apart again when the boom flicked the traveller across the track with some speed and the adjustable stop wasn’t set. Not only did the adjustable stop fly into the end stop and smash it to bits, but the main sheet hit me in the side of the head and smashed my glasses. Fortunately I had a spare pair on board that proved to be not far off my current prescription. Also fortunately the adjustable stop wasn’t bent, however, the same thing happened to the stops on the self tacking sheet track, and they were basically destroyed when we didn’t attend to slatting sails that were let right out. Next time I'll make sure to put the sail away if it starts slatting.

We decided to take the dinghy ashore at Batemans Bay. Since we were going to be ashore for a few hours we thought we would fit the wheels to help get it up the beach. They were flat so Andy pumped them up. As there were three of us and we were running out of time I thought we could ease the dinghy up the sand without the wheels so we didn’t fit them that night, but next day there was a strange noise on deck that I couldn’t identify at first. Some time later it transpired that one of the wheels had blown a tyre right off the rim.

More trouble with water. A guest on board didn’t realise that the taps in the rear head were ceramic and that the cold operated in reverse to a normal tap. After several anticlockwise turns it flew off in her hand, and water cascaded out under pressure. In the ensuing pandemonium the bottom valve fell into the sink and was lost. Once again we were to go without water until we could find a way to stop the flow. Fixing the tap will be difficult as it is made in Columbia and they don't ship overseas.

The anchor windlass gave us some grief, it kept binding up the chain when we were trying to deploy. We took it apart and discovered that the upper 'clutch' surface was badly worn. Not being quite sure what to do about it we decided to spray everything with Lithium grease and put it all back together. Later we read that the mating surfaces should be kept clean and dry, but we had tested it and it seems to be operating well. We did continue to have some small binding issues, but without getting the surfaces honed up I'll just have to keep my eye on it. It may be that the damage is being caused by putting a good deal of strain on it when lifting the dinghy. More analysis required.

There were various other issues and mysteries whilst away. The cockpit lights seem to operate to an unknown agenda. During one night passage they would not operate at all, yet the next night they were fine. The wind indicator continues to be a problem, direction is fine but wind speed completely unreliable. Leaking hatches are fairly high on the repairs list for this winter, and a couple of windows are now leaking as well. One night tied up to Eden wharf did some hull damage and one of my fenders without a sock left a dirty stain on her side. We fixed the running back stays by replacing the frayed ropes and greasing the jaws of the jamb cleats, but this will only be temporary, and will have to be looked at again. Whilst we were at it we whipped the ends of several ropes, but still missed a few. The wrecked genoa halyard is still a problem, and I don't like the way the guys for the pole operate. They're too short and force the use of the fore and waste cleats. I'd rather have them led back to the cockpit on pulleys with their own jamb cleat.

We changed the way the main boom preventer was being used after it bust a shackle. It had been doing dual duty as a vang, but the load was too great on it. Instead i took the dyneema lines that were already in place on the end of the boom, for some purpose that I was not aware of, and ran the block and tackle I had been using off the end of that. It's still not right because now the angle is not steep enough to prevent the boom from rising and loosing sail shape, but the strain n the tackle is less.

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Some Sailing was had.At last. I’d had enough of working down below, so I tidied up as best I could and went to join the club for their Crews race. Only I didn’t have a crew, so it was just me.

The previous weekend, amongst other things I had hanked on the sail that had been stored in the shower recess. The bag said it was a 150% Genoa, and Lionel had told me it was a sail he used alot in North America. I had come to believe that it was perhaps an old sail that was being stored in the bag for the one hanked on when I bought the boat, and one I had just recently had some maintenance done to. So I didn’t think it was a 150% Genoa necessarily, in fact where the clew on the leech sat when it was rolled up, I thought it had to be some kind of Yankee cut. I still didn’t think much about it as I ran down to the start line under a light following breeze. I should have had a closer look because it definitely wasn’t a Yankee, but as I gybed up to cross the start line it gave me trouble in spades. The downwind leeward sheet, sail etc, went round the front of the fore stay, and of course I couldn’t winch it in. Then when I’d sorted that out I noticed the the sheet blocks were set way too far forward, so I guessed the spot for the windward one, and made a note to move the leeward after the first tack. Tacking the boat in light airs, no more than 10kts, proved difficult, as the weigh on wasn’t enough to get the job done, and the Genoa just sat across the staysail and acted to put the boat into a hove to configuration. This necessitated that I leave the cockpit and drag the sail around the staysail so that I could winch it in. It looked good though, and was definitely not a worn out old rag. I’m thinking that it really is what it says on the bag.

Then the wind got up, and things got more difficult. The next tack or two ended in irons, or missed tacks, and at one stage I lost the sheet out of one of those snap cheek blocks (how I hate those). Whilst trying to feed the bitter end of the sheet through the spinnaker block the whipping sheet knotted itself and forced another tack early. It was all getting a bit too much very quickly, so I made a decision to roll up half the genoa and carry on in the hope that I could better control it. About this time the fleet started lapping me and I hadn’t even made the first mark.

While the wind was now coming through at 15 to 20kts I was getting worn out with the constant sail trimming, so I decided to put the genoa away. I was by now way over canvassed for the conditions, but putting a reef in wasnt really an option. Since all other sails are self tacking this makes things much simpler for everything except gybing. With the wind conditions being gusty, and fresh, gybing wasn’t an option, so granny gybes had to be done. The next couple of laps of the course were alot easier as I was starting to get on top it all. By the time I started the last lap the fleet had all finished, but I plugged on to eventually record a time, just before the marks were pulled. Hurrah for me.

Next time out on the boat I had Russel and Cathie with me for a jolly down to Refuge Bay for lunch. It was a beaut day, warm with light winds etc so we got the genoa out and discussed it’s various merits. Once we picked up a mooring for lunch I was decided, it had to go back in the bag. It may be a great sail for cruising, but it too much trouble on the river. We also had a long discussion about lazy jacks, and Russel had a go at setting mine up to allow them to be removed for raising the sail. I’m not convinced yet that getting them out of the way just for raising sail more easily is worth the effort, but I’ll see how it goes a few more times.

Whilst I had a crew onboard I decided to pull into the pontoon at the Brooklyn Baths for water. I’d been pondering this possibility for some time, and even done a quick recon in the dinghy with the hand held depth sounder the week before. So I knew it was possible at high tide. Being able to get water without having to go 7 or 8nm each way is a big deal, and even the possibility of picking up crew from the pontoon saves a whole lot of time if I don’t have to mess around with tenders. So it was with great happiness that we pulled in just before the top of the tide with a metre to spare. Reversing out was going to be exciting though, because a pile marking the channel into the marina sits immediately in line with the edge of the pontoon, and it has a nasty big bolt sticking out, just ready to gouge a long rake out of your topsides. Russel manned the dinghy like a tug to try and push the stern out so that we cleared the pile, and Cathie held onto a spring so that I could get the bow closer to the dock before reversing away, and it worked like a charm. At last I had water onboard for the first time since the motor did it’s thing back in Feb.

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Finally!

It was time to give the motor it's first kick in the guts for 6 months. The major components of the ducting system had been put back together, the oil cooler problem solved, the fuel lines to the injectors reconnected, the belts for the blower and alternator fitted, and the only thing still to do was to bleed the fuel system. Since I didn't know how to do this I made some calls, posted a query online, and even bought a couple of fuel bulbs to get the job done.

When I tried using the manual pump on top of the primary fuel filter, I managed to bleed some air out of the filter, but the pump button would not pop out again, and was very hard to push the fuel through to the lift pump. I couldn't be sure what was happening, I couldn't see air coming out of any joint, just fuel, so I thought why not just try to start the thing.

It took a couple of lengthy cranks before it began to fire, but it wouldn't run properly for more than about 10 secs. The battery eventually gave out, so I started the gen set and waited for an hour before having another go. This time it ran for longer, but still wouldn't respond to the throttle, and still eventually died. It was obviously fuel starvation. I left it for a while to allow time for more thought.

Next time on the boat I thought I'd fit one of the fuel bulbs to make it easier to prime the system, but while I was trying to figure out where to fit it, I thought I'd turn the fuel off so that when I cut the line, fuel wouldn't go everywhere. Woah, the fuel taps were already turned off. I must have turned them off months back before I started stripping the motor down. So that explained alot.

Once I turned the taps back on, the manual priming pump worked, and the motor started straight away and ran fine. So I thought I'd take a run down the river. I was so looking forward to letting those mooring lines loose, it had been so long. As it happened it was raft up day with the HRYC, so I headed down to Refuge Bay for that. It was slow going, which I expected due to the fowling of the hull and prop, but I wasnt prepared for a top speed of 3kts and a maximum RPM of 1500. Nor was I prepared for the smell of burning oil and the smoke coming out of the crankcase. The temperature was also quite high and the oil pressure was only just 2 bar, half what it should have been. We got there, had a nice lunch and then I limped back to the mooring and left it for another day.

Next time on the boat I thought I'd try disconnecting the fuel lines to the injectors, one at a time, to see if I could isolate where the smoke is being generated. Failing that, perhaps a compression test. It didnt turn out to be quite as easy as that. The oil level checked out, the valve timing seemed OK, so I thought I'd run the motor at a medium idle for an hour or so. I watched for smoke, and checked the temp and pressures. Nothing. I couldn't fix the problem if it wasn't going to show itself. So I did some other jobs.

The gas detector installation I'd started but not finished, and I'd purchased a water usage detector that also needed installing. Simple jobs they were not! Nothing ever is I'm learning. I wired up the gas detector using the wiring already in place for the old one, which fortunately saved me a lot of hassle, but I couldn't get it to go. Next time on the boat I had another go, and discovered that I had a dry joint in one of the crimps, but I still couldn't make the controller fire up. Next trip out I worked out that the unit I had bought required two gas sensors and I'd only fitted one. On the following trip, I decided to run the wiring through for one sensor in the bilge (I could reuse the originally installed one às it was the same type. My body has atrophied over the years making it almost hazardous trying to contort myself into positions on the floor of the galley so that I can get my hands into the spaces behind cupboards. I resorted to making my own holes to run wiring through, holes that were in positions I could reach. It was still a long tedious job.

As I write there are still things outstanding on just about every job I've started in the last 6 months. I'm still waiting on a stud bolt for the #1 cylinder exhaust port, which was inexplicably missing. I suspect that an ordinary bolt has been substituted in the past, and I didn't notice when I took it out, because I have one or two such items left over from that job. Trying to get a new one has been a hassle because my motor seems to have non standard spacers on the exhaust gaskets, making the required stud 10mm longer than the one I've been sent. So I can't put all the engine cowling back together until that problem is sorted. I'm still waiting for some hose adapters to finish the water level detector, ordered but not arrived as yet. I haven't yet worked out what I'm going to do about fitting the belts for the anchor wash down pump. Since I can't get the adjustment bolt undone I may have to remove the pump entirely, and fix it ashore. And I still have no water onboard.

However, I have started putting tools away, and getting tidied up. With a bit more work on that front I may even get to go sailing this weekend. Happy days.

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[rossl32123]

A rude word...

[rossl32123]

Still waiting

[rossl32123]

Clear Sky, 19°C

7 Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney NSW 2083, Australia

After a considerable amount of time... Stripping down the motor took a lot of effort. What made it particularly tedious was the fact that there was only one spot where you can stand to perform the dismantling operations, on the starboard side engine bearer, just in front of the battery. I used the boarding ramp to span the gap across the top of the motor, which gave me something to lean my upper torso on when performing particularly delicate surgery with the snatch bar, but every operation was tiring, and more than one tool, bolt, nut, washer, screw etc. found its way into the bilge. Fortunately I kept a close eye on what went down there, and recovered everything with the claw tool before I forgot about it. At one stage my best flat head screw driver did the pirouette off the water tank, through the gap in the bulkhead between the two motors, and into the deepest and slimiest part of the bilge. I had to go fishing for it with two magnetic pickup tools taped together in series to reach down that far. Fortunately the magnet on the end was sufficiently powerful that it latched on straight away, and I got the tool back. Particularly galling in these circumstances is the workshop manuals brevity on some operations. "Remove the front side cowling" makes no mention of the fact that there is a bolt on its port side that connects it to the port side cowling with a nut than is inaccessible, similarly the rear side cowling also has a bolt connecting it to the port side cowling with a nut that is inaccessible. And the port side cowling cannot be removed until both inlet and exhaust manifolds have been removed, which cannot be done until the air ducting around the manifolds has been removed, and that operation isn't described. In other examples, simply removing some part doesnt mention the need for a special tool like a socket that has a third of its wall cut away and another socket welded to its side so that it will fit over just one nut that no ordinary tool can get anywhere near. Workshop manuals are fine, up to a point. Slowly but surely I managed to prise off the various cowling and ducts, the fuel lines, belts, the blower, the oil cooler, manifolds, heads, rods and tubes, and finally the barrels. It wasn't until I got the final cylinder barrel off that the problem was revealed. I have to say it was an emotional moment. When I saw the damaged piston and the scoring in the bore, I knew then what I was up for, and I was greatly relieved. If the problem had not been uncovered when I lifted off that last cylinder, then I knew the next step could only be the removal of the entire engine, and that was not something I think I could manage on my own, let alone afford. As I write the heads are waiting to be serviced, and the barrels honed. They have been in the shop for the past month so work on the motor has been halted until I know what parts are needed. I'm suspecting atleast three new pistons and a full set of rings, but I dont know if the #1 cylinder will have to go oversize, and if it does, what that means for the other bores. Pistons alone are over $300, so I'm contemplating a hefty parts bill. Atleast the labour bill won't be so crippling. In the meantime I've drained the motor of oil and given the crankcase a flush with diesel. I am concerned about the amount of grit still sitting in the oil pan which i cannot get to, but I saw a utube last week on flushing engines, and apparently the thing to do is to replace the oil with diesel and run the motor for 5 minutes, and most of this crap should get picked up by the filter, apparently. So I'll give that a go. There is no way of being able to ascertain the state of the crank and bearings. This does worry me, mainly because without knowing where theyre at, I could go to all the trouble of putting the motor back together, only to find myself having to do it all again in short order if theyre bad. I have to console myself with the thought that going to this level of trouble is seriously beyond my capability, and I'm just going to have to trust to luck that they're ok. The piston pins and shells are well within tolerance, so I'm figuring that they should be fine also. Additionally, they get supplied with oil under pressure from the oil pump, and at no stage have I seen the oil pressure cut out completely, so I'm clinging to hope on this one. I had known there was a serious oil leak from the engine, not before the mechanic in Newcastle had pointed it out, but it wasn't entirely obvious where it was coming from. I couldnt see anything dripping off whilst idling on the mooring, so i assumed it had to be a problem only evident whilst under load, and maybe even something to do with running in a heavy sea. Lifting the sole whilst underway at sea has not been an option because it can't be secured, and it's too dangerous anyway, so trying to find the leak hasn't gone much further than looking for evidence of dripping down the sides of the crankcase. One of the fittings for the oil cooler has been leaking (the one that requires the fancy homemade socket tool descibed above) and I'm thinking that this is where all the problems stem from. I wasnt sure at first because there is a cowling over it that directs air from the blower through the cooler and the cylinders, which makes it impossible to see whilst the engine is running, but once I got the blower and the cowlings off it is obvious that this is the source of the leak. So while I'm waiting for the head shop to do their thing I've taken on a few other projects. I stripped down the fresh water pump, because I've been concerned that it hasn't been priming itself, and it hasn't been switching on automatically when the pressure drops from draw down. This has been particularly annoying when your in the shower with a head full of shampoo. Traipsing through the boat leaving wet puddles everywhere, just to cycle the power switch for the pump gets very tedious. With the pump out of the way I get better access to the oily messy that is the front of the motor. I should be able to do a job on it to clean it all up eventually. I've also been looking at connecting up the VHF to a GPS source, so that it can access boat position. This is necessary for the DSC feature to work properly, and was never done when the unit was installed. In addition, I wanted to get a sub connected to the stereo I installed last year. Both of these jobs required access to the space immediately behind the panel at the back of the chart table. I had managed to install the stereo by wiring it through the hole I installed it into, but this was a tedious process, and I figured all along that it would be good if the lid on top could be hinged. I spent a great deal of time trying to work out how the top could be removed, fuguring that it must be screwed on from inside, but i couldnt locate any screws. I bought a USB endoscope to poke inside, but this proved to be far more difficult to use than I had imagined, especially interpreting just what it was looking at, and manipulating it in the required direction for a better view. I found a couple of screws in the liquor cupboard that seemed to be part of the problem, but I still could not get the top off. Eventually I got the shits with it and decided the only way was to implement irresistable force and see what broke. It turned out there were three screws along one side and three dowel joints along the other. I should have been able see all three screws as they were all partially removed, and fortunately there was only a little damage done! I plan not to use hidden screws to put it back together. With top down access to this space I could now solve a couple of mysteries that had baffled me. It turned out that the GPS in the cabin was completely separate to the one in the cockpit, and it was the cockpit GPS that was wired to the Digiboard for the computer on COM5. The cabin GPS turned out to be on COM7, which explained why my computer couldn't "see" it, I didn't know there was a COM7, and I had never thought the cockpit GPS would be wired to the computer, so I had never turned it on whilst I had been playing around. When I added COM7 to the connections for OpenCPN I suddenly had everything working, AIS targets showing up, no more error messages, yada yada. Hooray. Still to figure out is whether I can load a track into the cockpit GPS from the computer, because I think that this might be the one that the autopilot is listening out for. Hooking up the sub hasn't been a success story so far. I've been trying to use the mini molex plugs for power and audio, but haven't had any success finding the 6 pin audio plug. The 4 pin power plug I wired up doesn't seem to want to do the business. Not sure why, but you can bet your house that I've got the wiring wrong and I'll have to go and buy another plug. In the meantime I discovered that the speaker was kaput. The rubber moulding holding the cone in place had rotted, so now I'll have to source a new one. Another project underway is to connect the AIS to the radar so that targets will appear on its display. This requires an NMEA0183 connection between the two, which should be simple, but the greatest failing of this particular standard was to allow manufacturers to implement it as they saw fit. Consequently, it seems no two companies used the same plugs, and as a further consequence, you cannot just buy a cable to connect Furuno equipment to Camino. All cables come with a particular manufacturers plug on one end and bare wires on the other. It's a good thing thing I've got a soldering iron on board (and a spare, and a backup to the spare).

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[rossl32123]

Clear Sky, 19°C

7 Pacific Hwy, Mooney Mooney NSW 2083, Australia

Some time later. It was a couple of weeks before I dared go back out to the boat. Imagine my suprise when I raised the sole over the motor to be greeted by a full bilge! Now this is new I thought, I hadnt seen much in the way of water on the inside before. A little later I noticed that there was no water pressure at the tap, and the pump was not priming the system. Surely I couldn't be out of water again, I'd only just filled the tanks, 800 litres and that had been the primary objective of my last trip! Then the penny dropped, my 800 litres that should be inside the tanks, was now on the outside. The "leak" was due to a burst connection in the engine bay. Then I thought hmm, water spraying around all over a hot engine, batteries, etc would certainly cause some trouble, and more than likely create alot of steam! OK, so perhaps the smoke that I had last seen coming up from the engine hadnt been quite what I thought it was, instead it was the vaporized remains of my precious water supply. Perhaps if I started the engine now things might have had a chance to cool down and we can be friends again. It did start but there was a lot of smoke, an unreasonable amount of smoke, most of it coming from the crankcase vent. So I shut it down staight away and pretty much decided it was toast. There wasn't going to be any more sailing this summer. Obviously the water had to go so I fired up the bilge pumps. Looking back now I am glad the the float switches on the pumps are non operational or I would be looking at a mystery wrapped up in a conundrum.

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[rossl32123]

Scattered Clouds, 27°C

Berowra NSW 2081, Australia

12th Feb 2018 Refuelling run with a sting in the tail. It was a Monday, and I had the day off, and it was quiet on the river so I decided to take a run up to Bobbin Head for fuel and water. It was a nice day and there was a bit of breeze, enough to keep the two headsails filled, mostly, but essentially it was motoring up Cowan Creek. The cicadas were deafening as I got past Cottage Point, scene of a tragic seaplane crashing the month before, and it was great to be exploring new territory. Arriving at Bobbin Head was challenging. The fuel pontoon is right out on the end of the marina, but the channel is narrow, runs parralel with the fuel dock, and there are moorings right throughout along the creek. Once past the last arm of the marina, the creek shelves very quickly, so I was going to have to turn around at some point using the gaps in the moorings, and the marina piers. One thing I have learnt about Sea Whisper is that she is not great steering when going astern, and so far I hadnt noticed much in the way of prop walk either, so turning was probably going to have to happen whilst going forward. So as I slid past the fuel dock I select reverse, gave it some power, and lo, there was prop walk to port. Not much, but since I was hoping to swing the stern into the road between the marina piers, which was to starboard, I was surprised, and put out a little. This wasn't in the plan! Never mind, I thought, perhaps I can counter it with rudder. And lo, once some way was gained the rudder did have an effect. Not as much as going forward, but more than I have experience so far, and enough to bring us nicely down the road without hitting any billion dollar stink boat. After that it was fairly easy to get around, you just have to make sure you are moving before you expect any reverse turning action. So refuel, top up water (which was empty), and get a gas bottle refilled, and try their pump out facility, followed by coffee and a muffin. Very pleasant. The only fly in the ointment being the pump out, which still isn't working. I'm thinking there must be an air leak between the deck fitting and the tank. I can only think the best way to approach the problem is to fill the tank right to the top with water, and see if I can see where it's losing it. I only hope there isn't anything nasty lurking in the tank that might leak out into the bilge! Returning down the creek I decided to pull into a little cove for a swim. I even thought perhaps it was a good opportunity to clean the hull, if I could. I managed to get most of myself into my wetsuit, but I simply could not zip it up. I have managed it before, but it seems I've put on some weight somewhere! Oh well, the water was plenty warm enough, I thought if I jumped in perhaps the water would help me slip further into it, but I still couldn't zip it up. So I got the rest of the gear on anyway, and had a go with a soft brush on the hull. It didnt take long to get jack of that job! It seems that the slime on the hull that I was expecting has been replaced with a more resilient species of weed that was beyond my ability to simply rub off. In some places vast tree like weeds are proliferating, and on the rudder and prop the barnies and more crunchy species of fouling are now quite prevalent. I really don't want to pull her out this season, so I'm thinking that I might have to call the Aquaman. He quoted me $250 for a clean, seems reasonable to me. The afternoon was getting on, and so I headed back to Parsley Bay. What a great day! Oops, spoke to soon. Oil temp on the rise! I throttled back to idle and waited for it to come back down, which it did, so I continued on. It wasn't long before it was advancing again, but just as I noted this and went for the throttle the engine nipped up. Bugger! The same thing that happened on Boxing day. So I quickly got the sails out, which wasn't easy in the narrow channel. Basically it was one sail per tack, and the mainsail being particularly difficult because I had no engine to use to head into the wind with. The problem is the battens getting hooked under the lazy jacks if the boom isn't swinging free so that the sail can flap. Plus you need the other sails drawing to provide enough speed for the auto pilot to be able to steer, else it gives up and leaves you struggling with a partially raised sail, and having to dive into the cockpit to correct your heading, then back to the mast to try and get the main up a bit further, etc, etc. Such are the challenges of the older boats. So each time I tacked I'd try to turn the engine over. As it cooled down it slowly freed itself up, until eventually it started again. I decided to leave it idling until i got back to the moorings. By this time I'd sailed out of the end of Cowan Creek and into the Hawkesbury River, but with a fair way to go, the wind dropping and darkness coming on, I thought it wise to engage some engine thrust to get us home. This was not one of my better ideas. Pretty soon after I noticed alot of white smoke exiting the cooling vent in the transom! So I went below and lifted the sole over the engine bay and was greeted with much more of the same, so i shut the engine down quickly. Burning oil I figured. As I approached the moorings the wind died completely, so i got the sails in hoping that if I could get the engine going again I would be close enough to only need 5 minutes of engine power. But it wouldn't start! I went below to do some basic trouble shooting. I knew there was oil in the engine because it was showing oil pressure, but there was none showing on the dip stick. I unpacked the spare oil and funnel, slopped about 5 litres into her (and another litre all over the place), which overfilled it somewhat, but I thought it wouldn't do too much more harm than I'd already done, but it still wouldn't start. At this point I was beginning to worry, but I did have a backup plan or two. I decided to launch the RIB, and tow her up to the mooring. Good plan, except that I'd let all the air out of the RIB to make it easier to see where I was going. Now I had to get the air back in it before I could launch it. At this stage it was completely dark, and a very light breeze had pushed us toward the first channel mark at the bottom end of the moorings, and I knew it was quite shallow there. Fortunately, it was high tide, and just on the turn. Eventually I managed to launch the RIB and take Sea Whisper in tow, although not before she rafted up against a fellow mooree! I was completely taken by surprise regarding the intracacies of towing another vessel. I couldn't understand what was happening! After getting to the end of the tow line, the RIB refused to steer. I could pull only for a very short period before the line astern arrangement completely broke down and I would find myself at 90° to the required direction of pull. I thought initially that it was because I had tied to tow line to just one eye on the starboard side of the transom, and that the off centre pull was causing the issue, so I went back on board to collect the wake board tow line, which has a twin pull arrangement with a block and float to tie the tow line to. After I'd hooked all this up I had another go at the tow, only to discover, no change! I could not keep the RIB pulling steadily from directly in front of Sea Whisper. After a while I realised that I could give her a little tug, then manoevre the RIB back into line before tugging again. As soon as I prolonged the pull by more than a second or two I was back out at 90° or more to the direction I wanted us both to go in. So whilst there was any tension in the tow line, the RIB cannot be steered. Over the next few days I thought about this and realised that it was probably because of the huge difference in weight between the two boats, and because I was never going to get the RIB moving fast enough for the direction of thrust from the prop to have any effect on its steering. Perhaps if I had connected the tow to the bow rope instead it might have been better, but at the time I just had to do the best I could. We inched our way up the moorings, saying a close hello to another yacht as we passed. I would give a tug, wait a bit, then give another one. Quite often I had to pull the Sea Whispers bows from one side or the other when she headed offline, and quite regularly I would have to perform a complex recovery procedure when I got myself perpendicular again. Eventually I sighted the little dinghy, but I realised at this point that I was rapidly running out of time as the tide was starting to run. It was taking longer and longer to close the gap to the mooring. In desperation I was pulling harder on the tow each time, and having to perform a position recovery more and more often. The last 20 feet seemed to take forever. At this point, as I was nearly there, I started to think about what I was going to do next. I had rigged two lines in the bow, one às a tow line, and the other as a line to use to pick up the mooring with. So I rushed back to the bows to get the second line. I held onto this line as I ran back out to the end of the tow line, paying it out over the stern as I went, only it ran out before I got to the end of the tow line. It was about 10ft shorter. So I'm thinking I'll just hang onto it and use it to pull Sea Whisper. Well that was a stupid idea. I had to let it go and resume pulling with the tow line, because we had drifted back from the mooring on the tide. Finally I got to the mooring and pulled it into the RIB. Fortunately there was enough slack on it that I could bring it all the way back to the tow line and get a knot in it before the current took us off again. Another 15mins would probably have been all I had before the current was too strong. We must have been quite a spectacle, all the deck lights ablaze, RIB buzzing around to cajole the great whale up the river. Water churning, ropes tangling, skipper swearing. By the time I had the mooring squared away, dinghy back on deck, sails put away, covers on, cushions below, hatches closed, diving gear sorted, and bags packed to go ashore, it was after midnight. And to make matters worse I had a 4am wake up for work. I didn't sleep too long that night, or too well.

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[rossl32123]

Clear Sky, 26°C

New South Wales, Australia

Kicking back. With the racing done (joke) it was time to get a few outstanding issues resolved. I've mentioned the water maker, well, the dive compressor was another. I'd bought a whole set of snorkeling gear for this trip, and everything was onboard, except my new mask. Unfortunately there had been a few monumental stuff ups, including me giving the wrong lens prescription, and them not knowing who was doing what in the shop, so I'd left home without it, but it was time to have a dive anyway to check out the rest of the gear. First off I had to get a weight belt that was right, so I got into my wetsuit (man that is not easy on your own), and leapt into the water out of the tender. It was really good. The ingress of water into the suit was so slow that I hardly noticed it. For some unknown reason I decided to duck down for a look at the rudder and the prop, and lo! There was a good length of rope and a float off someone's crab pot wrapped around the prop shaft! I had a go at untangling it on snorkel, but I'm not fit enough so I decided it was a good excuse to get the scuba gear out for this job. It was a bugger of a job getting it all on on the boat, then transferring to the tender to get weight belt, flippers and mask on, then into the water. Getting used to the boyancy compensator was also difficult, especially as I had a pair of welding gloves on (I'd already slashed one finger on the barnies on the prop). But we got there, got the job done, and got back on the boat buggered. For my first dive in 28 years it was an unqualified success, and I was keen to do some more, so I planned a move next day around to Shoal Bay, where the water quality is magnitudes better than where I was in Fame Cove. Unfortunately, at Shoal Bay, the yacht Zeehaen was already in residence, and an invite on board for a cup of coffee with Rob and Louise took up most of the first day. A return visit the following day was scheduled and once again became the significant event of that day. I did get a chance to get some petrol for the compressor, and kick it into life, but unfortunately I couldn't persuade it to do any useful work. It turned out to be a fuel filter that has become gunked up through lack of use, and I had no luck getting it apart, so that job is still incomplete. But I was still keen to get in the water again, and atleast one of the tanks had plenty of air in it, so I planned to get out of Shoal Bay and run over to Broughton Island, where I knew the diving would be even better. My mate Hugh had still not showed, so I figured he never would and next day I headed out. I had done a reasonable comprehensive check of loose articles before heaving anchor, but I wasnt expecting any significant weather or sea, so it wasnt too thorough. That was a mistake. I hadnt taken account of a SE swell pushing against an outgoing tide across the entrance. We had some solid water coming over the bow, enough to fill the scuppers, and show me that all the hatches still leaked badly. Once past the heads I got a chance to get some sails up, and things improved enough to let me get a chance to go below and clean up the mess. Mostly everything was OK, but the leaking hatches depressed me. Arriving at Providence Beach on Broughton was trying. It is a very small anchorage, and it was already busy. I gave everyone a wide berth, threw out nearly all my chain in 7mtrs of water, and spent the next 3 hours worrying about dragging the anchor. I decided it wasn't going to happen today, and took the tender into the beach. The plan was to go exploring, so I thought I would get the tenders wheels out of the sail locker, pump them up and fit them to the boat so that I could pull the boat up the beach. Well they pumped up OK, but I couldn't get the pins out of the tracks for the wheel mounts. The little retaining balls in the end of the pins were all rusted up. So I couldnt fit the wheels, and had to make my walk a lot shorter than I'd wanted. The next day was going to be my dive day, but I only had the morning to get it done, because the wind was due to kick around to the east, pick up later in the afternoon, and eventually move around to the NE for the next 2hrs, and I was keen to get on the gravy train for home. I didn't want another epic 36hrs trip. With a good wind it shouldn't take more than 14hrs. It was a rolly polley night, and I was awake quite a bit of it, so I wasn't quick getting started the next day. I was also unfortunate in picking up a good book over breakfast, and before I knew it the wind had started to come in, and the time had flown. I still had the tender to get on board, and things to organise, so I looked at the dive gear and thought, should I stay another day, or should I get going while the getting was good. In the end I thought I'll just have to come back another time. The sail home was delightful. The breeze held steady all afternoon and right throughout the night, only crashing out about 3am. It would be nice one day to sail right back to the mooring, but it's not a long motor back from Terrigal. All in all, 16hrs to do the return leg was just brilliant, and I was back on the mooring by 7am, somewhat disappointed that my big summer cruise was done.

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[rossl32123]

Overcast Clouds, 24°C

Port Stephens NSW 2319, Australia

Sea Whisper racing? Yes, I decided I wanted to do some thing interesting with the boat this summer, so I enterred in the Pittwater to Coffs Harbour boat race run by the RMYC. I knew I was going to need a crew, so I posted to friends and family on Facebook, and ended up with 3 other mates keen to go along, but not much in the way of experience at all. Kevin has always had boats, mainly for fishing. Hugh and Adam are mates through the RFS, and know very little about boats and sailing. So I set about organising some training. It was impossible to get a day when any more than one at a time could attend, so I ran two separate induction days, Kevin missing out because he lives in Coffs Harbour. I wasnt too worried about that because I think he just wanted to bum a ride home after Xmas with his family down here), and I knew he would be OK at sea provided he had a rod in his hand. The inductions went very well, I had two keen sailors in the making. What was going to be hard I suspected was the paper work. its a poor excuse I know but I couldn't access the race web site on my phone, it was impossible to log into it because my phone screen wasn't big enough. So I didn't get onto the paperwork side of registration, and there were things that had to be done, like putting the crew through a Safety at Sea course, getting category 3+ certification, being measured for one or the other racing classes, etc etc. So I had to withdraw my entry. But my crew were still keen to do the race, just not officially. Then I lost two of my crew! One to a bad back, and the other to the lure of work bonuses over the holiday period. So it was just Adam and me. Race day came and we made a leasurely start across our own personal start line, winds were good, albeit from dead on the nose, and we plugged our way out through Broken Bay. We weren't trying too hard, taking a speedy 60° tack, as opposed to a slower 45°, and as a consequence the landscape slipped by exceedingly slowly. Avoca Beach just would not go away at one stage. Adam struggled a bit with the pace of it. We saw the race fleet exit Pittwater not long after we had. They were keeping much closer to the coast, and taking much tighter lines into wind. I'd like to be able to say that we let them go, but the truth is, we were never going to be competitive. They were all gone before night fell. So we sailed on, lunchtime came and went, although Avoca Beach didn't. Then I thought I'd try and prepare some wraps. Cutting spring onions with the boat on a lean is interesting. There was plenty of leftover Xmas ham to use up, although curiously it's still left over! Finally darkness descended and we found ourselves off Long Jetty, still tacking, still with a long way to go. It was a late evening meal, I had managed to get my speciality into the oven about 8 o'clock, so it wasn't ready until 9pm. Adam informed me that he was usually starving by 6pm, anyway, slow cooked lamb with assorted vegetables cooked in the camp oven. Unfortunately, it took me too long to get it out of the oven and onto the plates and I exceeded my safe time below decks. Another first, my first chunder off my own boat! At least it left more room for dinner. We set watches to 2hrs max, I took 10-12, 2-4 etc. Just before midnight I got Adam up early, as a coal ship had turned onto our track and was gaining on us, but he was just lining up in the roadstead to anchor, so I went below. We plugged on, finally clearing the last of the coal ships about sunrise, but now we were right in their path as they came and went from Newcastle, so we had to keep our eyes open. We plugged along Stockton Beach, we could see all the fishermen and four wheel drives plying the sea and sands, and as we neared the end of the beach we could see the lighthouse on Stephens Island slowly getting closer, but the wind was also slowly rising, so we had to lose the genoa and put a reef in the mainsail. This is always unfortunate with Sea Whisper because that one sail means the loss of about 2 kts through the water, and leads to considerable wallowing and leeway. We were forced to revise our ETA for Nelson Bay 3 times as the lighthouse just didn't seem to be getting any closer. I've found the only thing that helps in this situation is to use the motor to help reduce the leeway, that seems to also help bear up into the wind a bit more, but it's still all very slow work. Finally we got around the last of the foul ground off the light, and we could ease the sheets, get the genoa out again and get some action happening. What a long trip, 36 hours of tacking, and 5min of reaching, and even then the tide was running out at a good 2kts. We were pretty done in, and the forcast was for another two days of the same! Adam organised a berth in the main marina, the only thing left to do was find it and get into it. It was dark when we made the entrance. Fortunately our pen was at the end of the finger, only required a 150° left turn to get in. Unfortunately I cut the corner and we ran out of room to make the turn. Fortunately people appeared out of nowhere (actually they appeared out of the boats in the surrounding pens) to help, and with lots of varying forms of advice we got in. Phew. It was tight. We attended to 1st, 2nd and 3rd orders of business, then headed out for tea. We should have done that first, everything except Woollies and the pub was shut by the time we were presentable. So we bought some salmon, went back to the boat and Adam cooked a fine supper. Late again, sorry mate. Next day Adam decided to jump ship, the marina manager decided our oil slick was insignificant, I decided to stay another night and the weather decided to throw in a 30+ day. I had a few things to do onboard, but I quickly lost interest in drying wet bed sheets and swabbing floors etc, so I waltzed off for a walk, to strike up a perspective on the last couple of days at sea. I was dissappointed I have to admit. The overriding feeling I had was that we hadn't made our objective, it was hard work tacking non stop for 36hrs, and I didn't want to do any more of it. Particularly if the wind was going to be less than 5kts, or more than 15. That came as a bit of a surprise. How would I manage a week of it? Or a month? And on my own? I have consoled myself that these northeastern winds can be hugely advantagious going home. And I'm not racing, I can just stay put if I have to. However, I was still hoping to get to Coffs, there was a southerly forecast for the weekend, then back to the northeast. I'd wait and see how it panned out. The next day the marina manager decided I was out, someone had complained about my oil slick! About a week previous I had sprayed my anchor winch motor with about half a can of corrosion inhibitor, and it had run off down through the chain locker and was dripping out of the drain hole causing an embarrassing slick around my boat and off down the finger. Oh well, I couldn't afford another night anyway, not at $144pn, so I made ready to leave. Before going I made a visit to the chandlers, I needed another pump for that gearbox cooler. So far it's chewed up three Rule in line pumps, time for a change. I'd fit it when I found a spot to anchor. Leaving the marina proved surprisingly easier than getting in, it just took a bit of a shove of the stern, hop aboard and engage gear and I was out of there. Nothing like the drama of getting in, no crowds of well wishers, no streamers. I had my eye on a little spot called Fame Cove. When I motored in it was all but empty, only three other vessels were moored and there were courtesy moorings to spare. Perfect. While I worked on my pump, the oil slick from the leaky tank in the RIB, and the beer in the galley fridge, about another 10 boats turned up! Oh well. By about 6pm I was sound asleep anyway. There was a huge achievement for this day that I should mention, I managed to get the water maker operational, then immediately pickled it again. I got a kick out of that, just knowing that it is working, and I can make water is huge. Next thing is to look at the dive compressor. As I write this I'm overdue on my 24hr mooring, but it's NYE and I have had a few G&T's. Who's counting anyway? Today I applied some silicon paste to the rubbers on the forward two hatches, hopefully that might fix the leaking issue. I got the RIB ready to launch yesterday, but haven't as yet. I need to use the loo and do some shopping, but maybe it can wait another day. The loo issue is still unresolved, I have tried to figure out what is going on with the holding tank, I know there is liquid in there because I filled it with water and put some vegetable dye in it, looking to see if it was leaking, but when I last refueled I tried to pump it out again, and - nothing. So I'm hoping I don't have to use it in an emergency. Checking on the weather today was less than exciting, the southerly predicted was for strong winds kicking in about midnight, but swinging back to northeast before the end of the day. I'm going to need more than 12hrs of wind NOT out of the NE sector to make it to Coffs. Consequently I didn't go. So, NYE, nearly a year with the Sea Whisper. What a change to my life this last year has been. Bring on 2018!

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[rossl32123]

Clear Sky, 14°C

Brooklyn NSW 2083, Australia

6th August 17 It happened again! My dinghy must be pissing itself with laughter. I thought I would take a quick trip ashore to use the loo, so I untied the painter, pulled her in and stepped straight in off the rear deck. For some time now I have been trying to impress on people the correct way to get into or out of the small boats, but do you think that advice was good enough for me! No way. So I'm in the water before I realize, fully clothed including shoes and socks (no lifejacket), glasses still on fortunately, mobile phone in pocket, and the tide is running a good 2 knots. Dinghy is completely swamped, and I'm trying to tow it back to the stern of Sea Whisper. Clearly this wasn't going to happen, so I quickly changed tactic, continuing to swim, only slowly releasing the painter through my hand as I went. Pretty soon I had swum to the end of the rope, but still hadnt got back to the boat. It was pretty obvious by now that I was going to have to try really hard just to get myself back to the boat. Swimming in clothes isn't something I've done much of, and it definitely occurred to me that I would be alot better off without my shoes, but a couple of mouthfuls of water soon focused my mind, and with some extra effort I made it. Now I had to mount a salvage operation using the RIB, but first I had to uncover it, inflate it and launch it. All the while my dinghy is slowly working it's way through all the moorings and off into open water where I was sure someone would run it down at high speed. Some 2 hours later I manage to get out there and track her down. The floatation under the thwart was holding the bow up, but she was upside down with the motor weighing down the stern. Fortunately, my habit of tying everything in paid off, nothing in her was lost. What to do, she was not tow-able like that, I had to get her to assume a more boat like attitude so that I didn't rip the bow out of it. Using the fender I keep in it to compliment the floatation under the thwart by tying it to the transom I managed to get it to float right side up, but there was no way to bail it out at all, so I figured if I gave her a gentle pull alot of water would flow out the stern on its own, and indeed this worked. As more water flowed out it started to sit higher, so I pulled a bit harder and the bow came up a bit, and more water flowed out the back, etc etc. Until eventually she was floating with freeboard, more like a boat than a sea anchor. Needless to say I forgot all about my trip to the loo. I now had a whole raft of more important issues to deal with! Once I'd bailed all the water out I thought I would see if the motor started, and surprisingly it fired up without much effort, so there was no water in the engine. I didn't run it for long, which was just as well. When I got it home I couldn't start it again so I did the usual trick of taking the float bowl off the carby and sure enough there was water in it. So I put it back and voila, it started! The next trip out to the boat the motor was fine, although it did sound a little rattlier. Then it wouldn't start to get me back to shore. It was some weeks before I could get a look at it and sure enough, the fuel tank was a quater full of sea water. Beats me how I'd managed to get it to run at all, twice. So I did a full strip down and sure enough it was pretty icky in the inner workings. Lots of rust on the main bearings, yadah yadah. So I soaked the whole caboodle in CRC, ordered a new gasket, and did my best to clean off the crud with a toothbrush. Now she's working again, they are bullet proof those little motors. I know she's not happy with me, I can tell by that grumbly rattle she now exudes. But everytime I pull the cord, she fires up. I still have to drain water out of the carby on a regular basis, but I accept that as my punishment for being stupid.

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[rossl32123]

Leaving Newcastle at dawn

[rossl32123]

Broken Clouds, 18°C

8-9 Old Pacific Highway

Some Sailing Last Sunday I decided I'd had enough working on the boat. As I had spent almost no time in the last 2 months actually sailing, I decided to have a day off on my own, just pottering around with the sails up. It was that kind of day. A light SE wind of about 8 or 10kts, a flat sea, not cold and what more could you ask for. It was busy as always, on Pittwater, on the weekend. My 2hp was going well again, after another servicing (for grit in the float valve this time), and my stereo was installed and working after another weekend spent with the tools out. All that remained was to tidy up and slip the mooring. I was on my own so I was taking it easy, trying not to get myself into more than i could handle, thinking it through first and then giving it a go. Well it sounded like a good motto. So I took her right down Pittwater with just the little sails up and the motor pushing us along, before I looked for a spot to get the main up. I know it can take me some time to raise this sail, and I didn't want to be caught out up on the fore deck among all the traffic and close to shore and other moored boats, so I left it until I was well off Barrenjoey. Once I had it up we were off and I spent a joyous couple of hours tacking back and forth in Broken Bay. I love the way she can punch into the swell on a relative wind from about 60° where she can put out a good 8kts with relative ease. Handling the sails is easy enough, the only issue when your on your own is the genoa, which you have to sheet in when you tack as soon as the bow goes through the wind, or you end up having to do alot of heavy grinding. If you set the auto helm to turn you through to the opposite tack, with enough angle so she doesn't loose too much way doing it, you can concentrate on dealing with the genoa, all the other sails handle themselves. Of course, if the way goes off the boat too much the auto helm gives up, then you have to forget about the sails and try and steer her back out of irons yourself, dealing with the genoa as and when you get a chance. Atleast that's what I have learnt in light winds! Coming back to the mooring should have been easy. I'd done it once before already on my own, and I thought I knew all there was to know about it, particularly in light airs. It didnt work out that way. My mooring line ends in a Y shaped yoke, each arm then routes through the fairleads at the bow, one each side, and over the cleats. The rope at the eye splice is only just able to pass through the fairlead, and with the rope for the bouy also tied at the eye, it is an extremely tight fit. I had also tied the little dinghy to one of these eyes, so there was no way that that mooring line was going to go through the fairlead, but as I pulled up next to the dinghy, that was the line that I fished out with the boat hook. So I'm holding onto the mooring line, and trying to think through what to do, when the weight of the boat starts to come on, and I'm thinking that when the boat stops and the weight comes off I'll detach the dinghy warp and move the mooring line up to the bow. Only the weight didn't come off and I realised then that we appeared to still be in gear! So I had to let the mooring line go, jump into the cockpit to drop her out of gear and jump out again to find the other line. At this time I also noticed that we had dropped our bow out of the wind and begun to drift back down over the mooring. It was after I had fished out the other mooring line that I noticed the dinghy had started to dive under the other side of the boat and was starting to fill with water. Her little outboard motor was tipped way up in the air Titanic style, and I was sure she was going down to Davey jones. The mooring line that the dingy was tied to had come up between the keel and the skeg, so use of the engine was out of the question. So I'm hanging onto the other yoke on the swim deck, and thinking "what the ....". I was obviously in some trouble and completely out of my depth. Fortunately the owner of Swagman came to the rescue and removed my dinghy to safety while I got the other mooring to its rightful place. What a balls up! Most unelligant. Lesson for next time, make sure the boat is stopped and out of gear before leaving the cockpit! Addendum to this post: It's now three weeks later and I have had another mooring incident to report. This time I wasn't alone, I had my good friend Rod with me who shall remain nameless for legal reasons, but he was consigned to steering duties, on account of him sporting a rep as a one armed paper hanger. As we pulled up next to the mooring we didn't stop until the boat was almost passed it (Rod!), and once I'd finally gaffed the line without the dinghy I wasn't able to get it up to the bow. We had already thought of this possibility and I had prepared a line at the bow that I could slip through the eye of one of the mooring lines so that at least we were attached to it, but I hadnt chosen a line that was long enough for the job. So once again I found myself in the waist of the boat with the weight coming onto the mooring as we fell off the wind and started to drift backwards. Quick thinking required, unfortunately the only option that was obvious to me at the time was to drop the line over the midships cleat. Wrong! We quickly settled sideways on to the wind, which wasn't strong, but strong enough to make it impossible to get the line back off the cleat! It was bar taught! In hindsight I should have let it all go and gone around for another pass, but hindsight wasn't available at the time. So what to do? First I had to get the dinghy off the other line and secure it. Then I got another line through that yoke eye, and ran it to the anchor winch, but that didn't help at all because the two lengths of the yoke weren't long enough to allow one of them to take the weight. In the end we decided to motor up, hoping that we could turn inside the length of the mooring without hitting the boat next door. Fortunately that got us to a point where we got the weight off sufficient to remove the line from the midships cleat and transfer it to the bow line. We still had to get the two eyes through the fairleads, but that's an old problem for me now. For a job that seems so simple at the outset, I've now stuffed it up comprehensively on two separate occasions. I'm not sure exactly what the secret is, there must be some salty old trick. Perhaps I'll Google it!

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[rossl32123]

Clear Sky, 19°C

7 Pacific Highway

Easter break Work on the boat at Midcoast Marine was starting to come together but she was still out of the water at the start of the week before easter. The rams were done and ready to be reinstalled, the keyway was ready for the tiller bar to go back in. The through hulls had all been inspected, and replaced as needed. The prep was all done for the antifouling and winch covers were finished, and clears restitched. Still not done was the boom bags, stantions and toe rail. The toe rail work was still an undecided. What was at issue was just how to reattatch the rail with appropriate strength to carry the headsail sheet block, the boom preventer, the running back stay and a block for handling launching and recovery of the RIB. Finally it was decided to glass and clamp the cracks, re tap the bolts once it had set, then set some dozen or so embedded bars by driving through the side of the rail and glassing in. These could be accessed by more bolts through the toe rail that threaded into these bars. This should provide more than adequate strength. Monday was relaunch day, but in the end it didn't happen until Tuesday. I wasnt there, I needed to work, especially after the invoices started rolling in. The work on the toe rail was completed at the maintenance dock, and the boom bags were finally installed on the Wednesday, but the lazy jacks and the end covers still hadnt been done, and neither had the engine been serviced. The stantions had all been reinstalled but not the safety lines, so that was a job for me to do. They all went back together fairly easily, except for the longest one, which was no longer long enough! It was only a matter of 4 or 5 millimeters, but I couldn't pull the line hard enough to close the gap. The boys had all knocked off for the day, so I retasked a spare shackle to bridge the gap, and made a mental note to get the boys to fix it next day. Hunter and I arrived Thursday afternoon to take her away for the easter break. The plan was for a simple jaunt up to Port Stephens, find a good spot to anchor and enjoy the unusual spell of good weather (any camper will tell you it always rains at easter). We had brought the big motor for the RIB, Lindsey having finally completed the service on it, and after borrowing a cart to get it down to the dock, I went to hand back the keycard for the cart, when the lanyard it was on caught the leg of my glasses as I passed it over my head, and with a single bounce on the dock they disappeared under the boat. Not happy. Kyle was kind enough to attempt to recover them, and he spent 20-30 minutes under the boat feeling around in the mud without any luck. Richie had a spare pair he didn't need that were an approximation of my prescription for long vision, but I had nothing but a magnifying glass for handling anything I had to read. On the plus side I did get to test one of the dive rigs, which uncovered a couple of issues, like the airline not fitting the BC, and the dive computer battery being dead. After we had loaded all our gear aboard, Hunter and I spent a pleasant evening walking along the Newcastle docks to the pub, had a meal and returned to the boat the same way. This aspect of Newcastle is a real treat, and will only get better with all the work that is being done to improve it. Once back at the dock, through excellent foresight (even without the best vision), we managed to circumvent security to get back on the dock, using a strategically placed rock underneath the landing ramp. Even better foresight might have prompted a keycard before the marina staff knocked off for Easter, but we had been a bit preoccupied with other challenges. Next day we made an easy start for Shoal Bay, that being the recommended spot to anchor for a few days. When preparing the mizzen to raise, not that there was any wind worth getting excited about, I noticed that all the slides had been removed from the boom to allow the boom bag slides to be fitted, and hadn't been put back! On further investigation I discovered that the main was the same! I wasn't particularly happy, even less so when I realised that the slides on the foot of the main had been cut off altogether! With that discovery I cancelled the idea of raising these sails and we motored all the way to Shoal Bay. I was going to have to rectify this problem, but I couldn't figure out how to get the boom bags off! Oh well, back to Newcastle on the way home. It was a bit of a rolly night at anchor, even though the outside swell was from the southeast, some of it still managed to bend around the entrance and into Shoal Bay. Next day Hunter and I got the RIB launched and made our way into town, chiefly to use the loos. The water was sparkling clear, the sun was bright and not too hot, and the sand was white and clean. Perfect. Or it would have been if my holding tank was useable. Hunter had decided that he needed to be back in Sydney, so after consulting with the bus timetable he gave me a hand to do some shopping and get it back to the boat, then he was gone. I had it all to myself, if you ignored all the other people on holiday there. It was a good thing that I was offshore, but the boating activity was intense, especially those annoying bloody jetskis. Sunday was set aside for entertaining. Keri, Bronte and Janice were heading up for lunch. I met them on the beach with the RIB. The beach at Shoal Bay is perfect for picking up a party from shore, but we still managed to make a spectacle of ourselves. I had the boat turned around to face offshore so that everyone could get in over the stern. But this just encourages people to jump in with their shoes on between the waves. Even though the beach shelves quickly, once there were three people in the boat it sat on the sand and I couldn't move it. I insisted that they all stayed put, it would just take a little patience waiting for a bigger wave, or the tide to come in a bit, but Janice decided she would do the right thing, take her shoes off and hop back out. This was all very well, but by then, without her weight in it, the boat was ready to go and when she gave it a heave it almost left without her! So she was sprawled across the side and I'm trying to heave her the rest of the way in, and we are all laughing too hard! Needless to say, when boating off a beach it is always wise to accept that there is a better than even chance you will get wet at some stage. Just how wet, now that's the thing. So we had a lovely day just chilling over some wine and wraps. The sun was perfect, the breeze was just right and the swell had slackened off a bit. There was no need to motor off to anywhere else, where else could have been better? Bronte stayed that night, to help me get her back to Newcastle next day, which turned out to be a carbon copy of the day before. So we motored all the way, again. I did get the main up at one stage, I thought it might be OK with a reef in it, but there was no wind and so down it came again. I probably should have stayed in Port Stephens for the rest of the week, after all, this is cruising, and this is what I wanted to do with this boat, but that would have meant coming back without help, and the possibility that the weather might turn, so Monday afternoon saw us back at Midcoast Marine. Not on the maintenance dock, as Joe had bagged that spot, but through some excellent skill, and a big pinch of luck, I managed to manoevre into a slot on the NCYC dock. After the last docking attempt on that dock I was amazed at how easily we pulled off a reverse 90, with bow in, without bending anything. That night we had a nice feed at a Thai restaurant up toward the railway station, wherein I left Bronte to return home. My plan was to attack the boys at the marina regarding the safety rail and the foot pumps which weren't working, and at East Coast Sails over the deficiencies with the sails. I was also keen to get the motors serviced, something else I was determined to get an expert to do first up. With the sails the response was, "that's how it is done these days, loose footed mainsails are the fashion". Who knew. On the foot pumps, after spending a number of hours trying to follow hose lines, the conclusion was that whereas I had assumed that they were saltwater pumps, in fact that was not the case. The foot pumps were all installed to allow fresh water to be drawn up without the need for the pressure pump to be turned on. Except for the galley pump, which wasn't even connected. The problem with the safety rail turned out to be an issue because the bent stantions had all had their feet reset to 90° which caused them to lean outward, whereas those on the other side of the boat were set to be vertical. Consequently the top safety rail had further to go. We tried bending them back to the vertical, or atleast Brent did (I didn't want to be the one to break them), but I didn't want to push them too far, the shackle solution remains. The mechanic finally agreed to show the next day, he had all the filters, bar one which I fortunately had on board. For some reason he didn't bring any oil, I guess he wasn't sure how much he was going to need and was planning on assessing that based on how much he got out of each engine. Well he spent most of the morning trying to extract the oil out of them, and the gearbox as well, and failed miserable. The air was blue, I couldn't hang around because I felt I was acting as a conduit for his frustration. I kept out of the way servicing the winches when I wasn't off at the loo or getting something to eat. In the end he came to the conclusion that there wasn't any oil in either engine, but he did manage to get the gearbox drained. Well that came as quite a shock, especially when he managed to put 8l of oil into the main engine, and 2l in the gen set! So I'm wondering if I've dodge a bullet here, or if this one is really going to bite a bit further down the track? The next day I decided I had to get out of town. This place had cost me a fortune and there was no sign of it slowing up. Matt had finally finished the lazy jacks and the covers on the boom bags, and the motors were all serviced, so I got up before the sun and made it out of dodge. The sun came up as I motored down river, and past a couple of coal ships with attendant tugs working their way up to their dock. I was keen to get the mainsail up to see how the lazy jacks and boom bags were going to work, but once again there was no point wasting my energy. I did note that the lazy jacks on the mizzen were quite tight and remain in contact with the sail. I think it might be an idea to allow them to be loosened off once the sail is up, and spend some time working out a solution for this, possibly using sister clips, but otherwise I wiled away a pleasant 6hrs putting down the coast. The only concern I had was how I was going to manage picking up the mooring at Claireville on my own. This turned out to be easier than I thought it was going to be, although there is the potential there for this to turn into a regular diaster, as I was soon to discover.

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