Chasing a leak

Ms. Betttencourt's hull is desert dry. There are no water leaks. But the engine presented a different situation recently. There was an air leak somewhere in the fuel system. Diesel engines won't start with air in the fuel system.

According to the log book, I had "cured" this problem five times since I changed the primary and secondary fuel filters on November 22. The work involved checking for leaks in every possible location, tightening stuff and bleeding air from various engine orifices. Each of these fixes resulted in easy starts upon completion, followed by failures to start a few hours later.

Of course, after each "cure" I confidently put the middle cabin back together. This is the point where fruitless fixes get to be really tedious. It is not easy to get to the engine on this boat.

Three cabin deck panels have to come up. The seat must be disconnected and folded back. The forward cabin bulkhead must be hinged forward. Only then may the engine box cover be lifted up and aft to expose the power plant.

Anyway, after lunch yesterday, I started on fix number six -- by opening everything up -- again.

I began at the fuel tank and re-checked every connection. Fuel pickup.  Lift pump. Primary filter. Secondary filter. Injection pump. The air was heavy with the smell of diesel fuel. Why is that?

This clue led me to a location outside the engine box where the 10-micron Racor primary fuel filter is mounted. There should not have been diesel fuel in the bilge under that filter. But there was.

While I had checked the fuel line connections to the filter head fitting multiple times, it had never occurred to me that the filter cartridge itself might be leaking. I had apparently failed to fully tighten the cartridge when I installed it in November. It would leak fuel with the engine running, then suck air as the engine cooled after shutdown. Not a lot of air, but enough to make starting problematic.

I hand-tightened the filter cartridge another half turn, bled air from that point through the injector pump and at each of the three injectors. The engine started easily. That was yesterday. It also started easily at 0800 and 1400 today. Maybe fix number 6 is a success.

I will wait until tomorrow and start it at least a couple of more times before I declare victory and reassemble the middle cabin -- yet again.

Meanwhile, cruise plans have become uncertain. My friend Major can't get away in January and other cruising buddies are previously committed.

Maybe I'll just stay home and repaint the dashboard and the middle cabin.

Boatkeeping duties diminish

Sigh!  Our 47-foot fiberglass houseboat "Tybee Island" will be leaving our dock for the last time in a couple of weeks. She is going on to a better use as a working vessel for the Savannah Riverkeeper organization.

We had the boat surveyed earlier this month and the inspector scored it in excellent condition. It looks and runs like new. We will miss it.

But a part we won't miss is the continual upkeep required to maintain a vessel in top condition. There was a time when repairs, cleaning and improvements were mostly fun and satisfying activities. But in the last few years, all that became just plain work. Our interests turned away from luxury camping on the water.  We were using the boat very little.

For a 25-year-old boat, it is but a short step from disuse to decay.



I expect to be involved for a time in helping the new owners understand the boat's various systems, mechanical needs and maintenance routines. I have also volunteered to teach the Riverkeeper's boatkeeping crew how to safely operate the big boat in the somewhat restricted waters of the Upper Savannah River.


 We feel pretty good about finding an excellent new mission for the Tybee Island. But, it's still kind of sad to see her go.

A hard day for the kingfisher

I have been watching this bird, which turns out to be a Belted Kingfisher, much of the morning. I can't get close enough to get a photo, but a picture I found on the Cornell Ornithology Lab website portrays her perfectly.

Cornell  Ornithology Photo

It is unusually raw, cold and windy here today. But the bird continues to work. Sometimes perched, feathers puffed up, on the weather vane; sometimes on a piling; often skimming inches off the river's surface, always looking for something -- presumably something to eat.

She is noisy too. She has a rattling, chortling, officious kind of call, issued both at rest and in flight. I can see only one of these birds around our dock, so maybe this one is seeking a mate or broadcasting a warning.

Anyway, witnessing this bird's work ethic in action made me feel more than a little guilty. Though the temperature is only in the 40s, cold, wet, windy weather slows me to lethargy.

But bird-driven shame finally propelled me to boat work.  I winterized Ms. Bettencourt's pressure water system.

This did not require a lot of effort. Just disconnect and shunt the water heater's in and out water lines and drain the water heater tank.

Then use the pressure water system pump to drain the bow tank. With the tank empty, disconnect the water system feed hose and stick it into a jug of RV antifreeze.

Turn on the pump to distribute the antifreeze through water lines, faucets and the fresh water head plumbing. Turn off the pump and close the drain cock under the sink.

Ms. Bettencourt is now ready for the whatever winter weather happens around here. If the temps get into the mid-20s, I'll hang  a light bulb in the engine box. But that is not needed now.


The bird, meanwhile, is still skimming around, nabbing an occasional minnow and making a hell of a racket. According to the bird book, when her day is done she will go home to a burrow in the riverbank.

Though it has been suggested that I make a start on Ms. Bettencourt's new curtains, I'm headed back to the rocking chair by the hearth and the gas logs. I was sitting there earlier, reading a novel, when I  happened to look out the window and see that bird.

She's still working. I'm not.

Finessing the port-side docking

I  have been spectacularly unsuccessful in multiple attempts to back Ms. Bettencourt into the inside slip at our dock on the Savannah River. I have been searching  for a key to achieving this maneuver, but I have consistently failed to coax the boat to go backwards upstream in the direction I desired.

Yesterday, an idea occurred: "Why not come in bow-first and spin her around to a port-side docking under power?"

Right after that, there came a second thought: "It's not like I have never hit a piling before...."

Think about rotating a 25-foot boat 180 degrees under power in a 35-foot rectangle of eddying river with pilings and rocks nearby. I tried anyway. And it worked. I have been practicing and I have gotten reasonably good at it.





Entering the pocket (right) and lining up for a scary-close approach to the riverbank.










A sandy shelf extends out about six feet from the rocks, then the depth drops off  to 10 feet. Ms. Bettencourt draws two feet. We did not touch ground on this approach.

Beginning the turn, wary of the piling on the port quarter, with the current trying to move the boat sideways to starboard.

Backing and filling to get lined up.

The bow finally turns. Port quarter smacks a piling, lightly.

This is where I boat-hooked  a spring line previously laid out on the dock, leading the line to a cleat on the port quarter. Going astern on the spring line brought the port side to the dock...

Dia Bettencourt photos

...where I was able to step out, complete the mooring and declare victory. (Click to enlarge the photos and see the look of relief on my face).




It was fun figuring out how to do this maneuver. But constantly changing river current and wind, plus the tricky eddy in the pocket between the dock and the rocks make this kind of docking too troublesome and risky for every day use.

And, this is not a 5-second ski boat turn. My approach-to-docking time was about 10 minutes -- hardly a "smartly-done" docking evolution.

Reeking of diesel; nearly ready to cruise

The job of replacing the fuel gauge sending unit inside Ms. Bettencourt's diesel tank is about 99% finished. The remaining 1% consists of finding and installing a screw I dropped in the bilge.

I abandoned an earlier plan to wait until the tank was dry before beginning the work. Installing the new sender with a nearly full tank wasn't too messy, though it will probably take a few days before I get the diesel smell off my skin. Actually, it may be a week or more before the smell goes away, since I still have to replace the cartridge in the primary fuel filter.

Soon, the boat will be fully serviced and ready for her next cruise.

Meanwhile, I took a day off from Ms. Bettencourt work today and went on Safari.

Safari is the name of Albin-25 #2050, which is owned by my new friend Steve in Greenwood, SC. While Steve's Albin is more than 1,000 production hulls newer than Ms. Bettencourt, it has had a hard life until now. The previous owner had converted it to a ketch rigged motor-sailor before he fell ill and died. The boat was stored and not used for a number of years before Steve acquired it.

Safari is definitely a fixer-upper now, but she came to Steve with a brand-new Yanmar diesel engine and drive train, and most other major systems are in order. He has begun the restoration and I have offered to help.

I was impressed with Steve's boatyard work space. He has erected a 10 x 27 foot canopy over Safari in his back yard.

I think this is a neat idea. This is just the kind of temporary cover I will need when I repaint the topsides and repair a few fiberglass cloth bubbles that have arisen on Ms. Bettencourt's new top.

We have a perfect place for such a temporary structure on a piece of land we own adjacent to our home. Soon, I will be on the hunt for a similar canopy rig.

(One possible complication with this plan is the fact that Ms. Bettencourt sits about 18 inches higher on her trailer than does Safari. I will have to find a work-around for this problem).

But, all that will have to wait until after Ms. Bettencourt's next cruise, which is now moving toward definite dates sometime next month.

My friend Major and I plan to trailer Ms. Bettencourt to Savannah and put her in the water there. Then we'll cruise northward for a few days visiting Beaufort and Charleston, SC. Our plan is to tuck in most nights in comfortable marinas with dockside electricity and restaurants nearby.

Unfortunately, I continue to dither with the new curtains project, so we will be using the curtain rods as towel  racks and our towels for privacy curtains yet again.

Failing to make friends

It is said that currents and winds should be our friends when maneuvering a boat in close quarters. We live on a flowing river and our dock is in a place with persistent northerly winds. I have learned to cultivate friendships with winds and currents. Particularly when docking. I have become famously successful at this, both with twin and single screw inboard engine boats -- as long as the bows point upstream and upwind.

Docking in close quarters with the stern upstream is another story entirely.

How did this happen?




Since we moved the houseboat to the outside of the dock, Ms. Bettencourt has sheltered on the shoreside. Here, she is shown moored with her stern upstream. But, surprisingly, I have not been able to make friends with wind and current in this slip. There is a current eddy in this little pocket of water and the wind is always flukey and often gusty.






It is not uncommon for the weather vane atop the gazebo to be registering a steady northwesterly breeze, as it did this morning....

...while the telltale I have mounted over the water about 15 feet  below the weather vane is indicating northeast to easterly winds. (These photos were taken less than a minute apart).












It is not difficult for me to overcome these variables when entering this slip bow-first. If the surface wind is westerly or if it is stormy, I will use a springline,  idling in forward gear to hold Ms. Bettencourt's starboard side to the dock while I tie up.

But, to date, I have been unsuccessful at backing her into this position. Asymmetric thrust from Ms. Bettencourt's right-hand propeller, a relatively small rudder, cramped maneuvering space, slow speed and intimidating obstacles such as these pilings and rocks...

... comprise a test of nautical courage that I continue to fail badly.

So, to answer the question at the start of this post:

How did this happen?

I have been coming in bow-first, then jumping to the dock and using a long line from the port quarter and a big fender to flip her bow downstream.

This is an effective process, the nautical term for which is "winding ship."

But for me, it is not very satisfying. Doing it this way seems like cheating.  This maneuver can't be done with docking 'elan. Passersby would be unimpressed.

So, I will continue to practice stern-first approaches. I think success will depend on learning how to steer in forward gear, whist making sternway in the desired direction. And, of course, I will have to become very friendly with winds and currents in this constricted area.

Perhaps an effective method will develop sometime soon, in which case I will post a video. Please stay tuned.

Dealing with @!*#! canvas fasteners

A device known as the "lift the dot" canvas fastener ranks at the very top of my marine hardware enemies list.

It's a post and spring assembly  that is supposed to secure a canvas closure and to release when you lift at a dot stamped on the fastener face. It does the first function admirably. But I can't get mine to let go -- short of prying them apart with a tool.

Ms. Bettencourt's new canvas has a bunch of these things, installed mainly to hold rolled up canvas or clear window panels with vinyl straps.

I am replacing them with Common Sense twist-lock stud  fasteners from Sailrite:
http://tinyurl.com/b79tttr





Here's the hardware, together with an eyelet I found easy to install on one of the side panel roll-up straps: (My pocket knife is in the picture to provide a sense of scale). The pieces are, from the top:

-A twist-lock stud and its backer plate

-An eyelet installed on a vinyl strap

-An eyelet and its backer washer






I think you can see why they named these  Common Sense fasteners. Installing the first eyelet was a simple job, though I probably would have messed up had I not watched the how-to video that Sailrite provides on its website.

Putting the stud part of the fastener on the canvas was even easier, since the the prongs on the stud fit neatly in the slots the canvas guy had cut in the material for the "lift the dot" fastener posts.

And here's a completed assembly on the canvas, the first of many I need to get done while the weather remains sunny and dry.






In other news-- I found the the reason the fuel gauge dropped to beyond empty and refused to move, even though the tank is full to the fill neck. The solution was simple: I Googled "troubleshooting Teleflex gauges" and found a step-by-step process on the Jamestown Distributors website: http://tinyurl.com/coory5g

It turned out that there is nothing wrong with the gauge. The sending unit inside the tank has failed. I have acquired a replacement sending unit, but installation will have to wait until I have used up most of the fuel in  tank. At Ms. Bettencourt's usual consumption rate, that will be about 29 hours of engine running time. The tank might be nearly dry sometime next spring.

And finally, the curtains project remains on hold. This job might have to wait until spring as well. I still can't muster sufficient confidence to start cutting that expensive material.

500 Boats!

Fifty-three rowing clubs from 38 cities and 13 states are on the Savannah River today for the 16th Annual Head of the South Rowing Regatta. This is a day-long, 76-event big deal in Augusta.

In the photo to the right, a flock (fleet?) of 6s and 8s are heading out from the Augusta Rowing Club Boathouse. The starting line is about 5,000-meters upstream.








Early morning temperatures on the water were in the 40s, but if any rowers found this uncomfortable, they didn't seem to show it.

Some are stripped for action, but the coxswain of this 8 remained bundled up and kept her ears warm.









We were on the race course in Ms. Bettencourt yesterday and the water temperature at the surface was 61F.  The river is now closed to all but regatta traffic from a mile south of the Boathouse to about a mile upstream past the downtown area. There are more than 1,300 competitors on the water, plus event judges, timekeepers, safety people and others.

Today looks like a good day to stay home and figure out why Ms. Bettencourt's fuel gauge has stopped working.

Moving the Big Guy

There is something very pleasurable about having your hands on the throttles of  big engines; having the ability to summon about 500 horsepower with just a push of the palms. That memory flashed back this week when I fired up the big V-8s on the houseboat "Tybee Island" and shifted her berth to the outside of our dock on the Savannah River.

Houseboat Tybee Island at her new berth

          The levers of power












Actually, I hardly used the throttles. Over the years we have owned this boat, I have become adept at maneuvering in close spaces with the transmissions alone. With the engines idling, I put the rudders amidships, then leave the steering wheel untouched.

In this case, shifting the port engine astern and adding a little port throttle backed us out of the slip just as slick as a snake. Then some back-and-forth shifting, again with engines idling, engaging one transmission, then the other, forward, then astern, then both ahead, brought us alongside the dock face, where Dia was waiting with a bow line. In all, a very satisfying evolution.

Maneuvering with transmissions














This was the first time I had moved the 47-footer since last April. There was a problem with one of the Rochester QuadraJet carburetors, compounded by an extreme case of houseboat disinterest. This resulted in ever-lengthening periods of the boat just sitting there, making us feel bad about not using her.

We have decided to put Tybee Island on the market, and my job is to get the boat ready for an appraisal, a precursor to advertising it for sale.

We are the second owners of this Harbor Master houseboat. She's 25 years old, but still shipshape and frisky. The boat has just about every feature imaginable- fly-bridge with Bimini top, two heads, two staterooms with double beds, three air conditioners, big kitchen, full-sized fridge and so on. She also has those two big Crusader inboard engines, a 4-cylinder 6.5 kilowatt generator and a 200 gallon gas tank, which is about half full at the moment.

Making her ready for sale is a bittersweet task. We have owned the boat about 10 years and have had many happy times with her. But our interests have changed. Disuse is not good for a boat.

Meanwhile,  Ms. Bettencourt has been moved to the comfy inside slip, where she is even more accessible for curtains fittings and for future cruise preparations.

Sustaining the machinery

Taking care of the engine, transmission, wiring, plumbing, and other machinery on a boat is an important responsibility. Carefree cruising in a power boat begins with confidence in the propulsion package. That said, actually getting to the machinery on an Albin-25 is not an inconsequential evolution. It's not like popping the hood on your passenger car.

Not all Albin-25s are alike, but none has easy access to the engine space. On Ms. Bettencourt, the work begins with taking up the wooden floor panels. Lifting the panel closest to the aft cabin provides relatively easy access to the raw water intake strainer, the primary fuel filter, and the propeller shaft stuffing box. Today, I cleaned some debris out of the raw water strainer, checked the fuel filter for water (found none) and tightened the stuffing box a bit to compensate for worn packing.

Taking out the next floor panel forward allows for inspection of the engine exhaust cooling elbow, coolant circulating hoses and the aft bilge pump.

(Note that the operator's seat, which is normally over the engine box, has been removed from its brackets and stowed across the bench seats against the aft cabin door).

With these two deck panels and the operator's seat out of the way, it is now possible to swing the half-bulkhead leading to the forward cabin forward on its hinges, then unlatch and swing the engine box lid upwards and back toward the rear of the middle cabin. I have done this while underway and it is not fun. Anyway, we can now view the engine and and the sound insulation on the inside of the engine box lid.

This is a Universal 54-24 diesel engine. Only about 1,000 of these Kubota marine conversion 3-cylinder engines were made, between 1977 and 1983. That means this one is between 29 and 35 years old. The engine has about 2,500 hours on it, which makes it relatively youthful. It is not unusual for a well cared for little diesel to go 10-15,000 hours before it needs a major overhaul.

(You can click on these pictures to enlarge them, if you wish to examine anything more closely).

On our last cruise, we ran this engine for about 18 hours at 85% of its power capacity. I think that's equivalent to running a modern passenger car about 1,000 miles at 60 miles and hour.

Today, while I had the lid up, I added about a half-pint of antifreeze, checked all the hose connections for leaks (found none) and tightened the alternator belt. I also checked the oil, then moved to the rear of the engine to check the transmission fluid and propeller shaft flange.

This picture is looking down on the top of the engine from the rear. The transmission is that box shaped gizmo at the bottom of the photo. There is a plug on the top of the transmission which may be unscrewed to check the fluid level. Ms. Bettencourt didn't need any today.

At the very bottom of this photo you can see a flange with bolts through it. This is where the transmission attaches to the propeller shaft. I always check those fasteners to make sure they are tight.

The final deck panel to come up is the one under the helmsman's feet at the steering position. A 20-gallon waste holding tank resides under there, together with a Y-valve that allows waste removal either through a deck pump-out fitting or overboard through the hull by means of a diaphragm hand pump. I keep the Y-valve locked in the deck pump-out position and the through-hull valve closed.

I pulled this panel up today mainly to check hose and pump connections and to retrieve a screwdriver I had dropped behind the tank.

Everything was in order in this department, so it's time to put it back together. I had everything buttoned up in about 10 minutes.

The engine will get a major service shortly before Ms. Bettencourt's (presently unscheduled) next voyage.

That work will involve an oil and oil filter change, changing the primary fuel filter cartridge, testing the batteries, checking all battery connections, and re-checking everything I checked today.

Do real mariners sew curtains?

The ragged remnants of moldy old curtains hung in her windows when Ms. Bettencourt came to me in 2004. When I pulled them down, the rusty curtain rods and plastic brackets came with them.

In the context of the rest of the long-abandoned boat rehab mess I was facing at the time, new curtains were immediately assigned a "maybe someday" priority.

A long time passed. Then, a couple of years ago, I happened on a source for 1/4-inch fiberglass rods. I bought some rods, made some oak brackets and installed curtain rods at the tops and bottoms of the forward and aft cabin windows. After that, the project stalled. The curtain rods have been used mostly for towel racks. After the last cruise, however, it was decided the time had come for curtain work.

My wife Dia helped me select material. Dia doesn't sew--even buttons--but she has a great eye for colors, patterns and how decorative stuff works together. She is also good with coupons and getting deals at stores. My friend Paul's wife Erena, who is an accomplished interior designer, looked at my windows photos and measured drawings and helped estimate how many yards of fabric we should buy. She told me how to sew headers and rod pockets. She told me there is a difference between hems and seams. She said I should use Mercerized cotton thread.

I'm thinking: Hey, how hard can this be? We're only talking about six little windows. This will not be a Martha Stewart project. Sewing machines are not that complicated. I remember my mother helping me make a shirt for a Teddy bear with her sewing machine. I don't remember if she was sewing the shirt, or if I was at the controls. Nobody was hurt, as I recall.

My friend Major has a sewing machine he said I can use. Nevertheless, I am now thinking this might be more difficult than expected.

Perhaps the next thing I need to do is to cut some fabric. I hate to do that. The stuff looks so good on the roll. Scissors are unforgiving implements. Cuts are forever.

Dia says we should hire somebody to make the curtains. I am going to the library to get some sewing books. This job can wait awhile longer.

Driving off the edge of the Earth

South Carolina's Waccamaw River is an impressive stream where it joins flows with the Black, Pee Dee and Sampit Rivers to form Winyah Bay at Georgetown. It was a dark and cloudy morning last Tuesday when Ms. Bettencourt transited the Bay and headed upstream. The destination was Conway, SC, a little town located near the navigable end of the Waccamaw.

Like many minor rivers in the South and Southeast US, the Waccamaw served as highway for commerce from colonial times until the coming of the railroads. In the years before the Civil War, the river was lined, first with indigo, then rice plantations. Georgetown was a rich shipping nexus for agricultural riches coming from the interior. Today, there is still evidence of the rice culture along the Waccamaw. The structure in the photo below marks a rice irrigation canal on the western bank of the river a few miles upstream from Georgetown.

Almost all the rice plantations behind these canal gateways have reverted to marshland. Much of this area  is government protected, serving as wildfowl habitat and breeding grounds for ocean creatures, most notably shrimp.



Farther up the river, which still runs wide and holds channel depths from 20 to 30 feet, you'll find a few modern marinas serving housing communities. Houses and condos are often out of sight from the river behind low-lying cypress swamps. Then the river begins to narrow.

Major Sims photo

The tops of many of the larger cypress trees were shorn off by Hurricane Hugo, which swept through the area in 1989.








And the river continues to narrow. Lengthening shadows late in the day give the stream a somewhat ominous aspect.

Major Sims photo

I have been a longtime user of Claiborne Young's Cruising Guide to Coastal South Carolina and Georgia. We had a copy aboard Ms. Bettencourt. The first time I read the following admonition, it didn't really register.

Writing about the Upper Waccamaw, Young says: "Most of the route is uncharted, but it is well-marked and easy to follow if you watch out for various forks along the way."


Then rounding a slight bend, as the river continued to narrow, we learned the meaning of  "uncharted." It means that your chartplotter has no cartography. No soundings. Not even stream boundaries. We had driven off the edge of the Earth.

This screenshot from my Garmin 546s chartplotter shows part of our tracks to and from Conway. Before we made those tracks, there was just plain, empty green screen on the chartplotter. We were hurtling, blindly, at 6 knots through a solid green uncharted never-never land

And the river was getting narrower and loopier. And it was getting later in the day. And we had not seen a sunbeam since the previous week.

My friend Major claimed he was hearing dueling banjos. Then he started humming the theme from Gilligan's Island. "We may never get out of here," he said, clasping an unopened package of Oreo cookies to his chest. "When the food is all gone, these will cost you $8 each."

Of course we had the paper charts for the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway. However, the Upper Waccamaw is not to be found there. But finally, as the river narrowed even more, we began to see day markers. They were widely spaced, but they were useful guides. Eventually we began to see houses. A little later we found the Conway City Marina and, an hour or so after that, a decent Philly steak sandwich just a few blocks down Elm Street.

An early departure the next morning came with just a little low lying fog and a hint of sunshine. Then the sun popped up, and we got a good look at all the sights that were just looming in the murk on the trip upstream. For example, the coffee color of the river water became evident in the wake.

The Waccamaw is one of several South Carolina rivers known as blackwater streams. The coloration comes from tannins leached from the cypress swamps.







Before long, and after getting lost in upper river loops only twice, we found the Lower Waccamaw. An outgoing tide, plus the river's current, moved Ms. Bettencourt at surprising speeds. At one point we clocked a GPS speed over the ground of  7.9 knots. That's fast for a boat with a calculated hull speed of 6.2 knots and a cruising speed closer to 5.5.

We were back at our space in Georgetown's Harborwalk Marina with plenty of daylight left before supper. Ms. Bettencourt was on her trailer at 9:30 the following morning, and back at her dock in the Savannah River at Augusta before 3 p.m.


Trip statistics

Our explorations out and back totaled about 75 nautical miles. We put 18.4 hours on the engine, which burned 12.5 gallons of diesel fuel. That works out to a burn rate of 0.68 gallons per hour.

The next voyage

 Destinations we talked about driving back included the Dry Tortugas National Park, about 70 miles West of Key West Florida; Sanford, Florida, via Jacksonville and the St. Johns River, and the Gulf  Intracoastal waterway via Stuart, Florida, and the Okeechobee Waterway.

And, of course, we will be closely watching the diplomatic news, looking for any change of rules that might allow a call at the Port of  Havana.

Thunder, lightening, downpour, in Georgetown

...and it is dry and cozy inside Ms. Bettencourt!  My friend Major is convinced we are victims of some kind of cruiser's curse because it rains every time we leave town, today being no exception. He may be right.

We are at the Harborwalk Marina in Georgetown,SC, which is a very nice, recently renovated marine center with 30-amp 120 volt electricity for the space heater and high-speed wireless internet for the blog.

This will be a brief post because I want to spend some time "in this moment" enjoying dryness and warmth inside this 40-year-old boat.

It was just about 13 months ago, in another pounding rain, lodged on a mud flat near Beaufort, NC, with water pouring through the canvas camper top, that I declared "one wet cruise too many."

The outcome was more than a year on the hard for Ms. Bettencourt  while we built this wonderful new hardtop. It was definitely worth the work and expense.

Life is good. Dry is great.

Tomorrow is to be warmer and sunnier. We expect to be winding  northwesterly on the Waccamaw River. Reports will follow.

Before the wheels turn...

It's Saturday and we are planning to haul the boat out Monday morning and depart for what I am sure will be a delightful exploration of Georgetown, SC, and the Great Pee Dee, Black and Waccamaw Rivers. While some may think adventures like this just happen after you load  up and head on down the road, experienced cruisers know there is a usually complex infrastructure behind even a little trip like this one.

Here's a sampling of the kinds of answers we like to get before the wheels turn:

• What's the land route to the cruising destination?
• Are marina reservations in place?
• Weather forecast, tidal ranges, currents
• Where is the best public launching ramp?
• Ramp hours, fees?
• Where is secure storage available for the truck and trailer?
• Is there local land transportation--cabs, buses?
• Where are the restaurants, grocery stores, chandleries?

In addition, here are a few tasks that I never leave home without completing:

• Cruise itineraries for significant others and potential rescuers
• On the water chartplotter routes for the cruising area
• Testing operation, and checking/charging batteries for all the fixed and portable electronic gear
• Hands-on inspection of all safety gear

So I have been doing that kind of advance work today, in between trips to the dock to double check systems on the boat, load bedding, survey safety gear and so on. In the latter respect, I found my flares expired, so I went to West marine for a new supply.

At the end of the day, the tangible product in hand consists of confirmed reservations at one marina, A highway route to Georgetown, the location of a public launch ramp, the address and number of a U-Haul RV storage center near the ramp, telephone numbers for cab companies and a marina in another town we plan to visit, and cruise itineraries to leave with the home folks just in case. I have also done a few chartplotter routes to help avoid getting lost on the waters around Georgetown. Sounds anal. Might be.

Trailer update

We finished re-carpeting the trailer bunks in record time yesterday. Instead of the two-day job predicted, we  wrapped it up over at my friend Major's house in about four hours. Here are some results to compare to the trailer photos in the last blog post:

After removing the old carpet and staples from the top thirds of the bunks, I used a power planer to smooth the tops of the bunks and round off sharp edges. I think this will add some lifespan to the new carpet. This closeup shows the inward-leaning chamfer of the starboard bunk.












The photo below shows the 12-foot-long 1 x 3-inch treated lumber battens securing the carpet on either side of each bunk. Two-inch stainless steel deck screws, spaced about 12 inches apart pass through the battens and the carpet into the trailer bunks. After this cruise, I am going to make some sacrificial bunk covers out of cut up blue tarps to help protect the new carpet from ultraviolet degradation.

The truck and trailer are over at Major's house now. I'll be on the river in Ms. Bettencourt Monday morning, while he's driving the truck and trailer to the haulout ramp in North Augusta. We will stay in touch by VHF radio until we have visual contact at the ramp.

That's when all the planning and mechanical preparedness work will come together-- on the road to cruising destinations out of Georgetown, SC.

Taking care of the wheels

One of the most utilitarian features of the Albin-25 is that it is road mobile. This means that in order to get to our next cruise's departure point in Georgetown, SC, we need only back the trailer into the river with my trusty truck, load the boat and drive away. It's going to be about a 4-hour trip. That compares to four days from my dock to Georgetown, should I elect to go by water. This makes it easy to understand the importance of a trailer for long-range Albin-25 cruising.

Some boaters take their trailers for granted. I do not. Ms. Bettencourt's trailer is heavily built of galvanized steel. It's a double-axle model and it weighs about 1,500 pounds. When on the trailer, the boat sits on two bunks, each of which is made of two bolted-together 2x12s. The bunks are carpeted, both to protect the hull of the boat and the underlying wooden timbers.

Here's a shot of the trailer's main bunks.  Click on the photos to enlarge. I have it parked in a clearing carved out of an outlying part of our property. Doesn't that foliage look like a tropical jungle? I believe there are mosquitoes in there the size of condors.

This is a closeup of what's left of the carpet on one of the bunks. The other bunk is just as bad.

The last time the bunks were re-carpeted was in December 2008, so it is time to renew the stuff.







Last week, I towed the trailer over to my friend Major's house, where the mosquitoes are somewhat smaller. I have the new carpet and fasteners. We think the re-carpeting work will take about two days.

Other trailer safety measures we will attend to before loading the boat include checking: tire pressures, wheel hub lubricant, brake fluid, safety chains, the winch and winch strap and the directional and brake lights.

I tow this rig with a carefully maintained full-sized V-8 powered Ford-150 pickup truck.

All of which goes to prove that there is a lot more to boating than just the boat.

Planing begins for next voyage

Yes, there is going to be a next voyage. Next month, sometime. The current plan is for my friend Major and I to trailer Ms. Bettencourt to Georgetown, SC, launch at some location to be determined, then go someplace interesting by water. It should be apparent in this narrative by now, that planning is not far advanced. But the commitment is firm.

Certain preparations have already been made. For example, I have ordered new carpet for the trailer bunks. Major is calling Georgetown to find out where we can launch and where to store the truck and trailer while we cruise. I  filled the boat with diesel fuel Saturday. The cruising gears are beginning to turn.

About words ...

Please recall that I found an old fiddle and installed it on Ms. Bettencourt last week and, at that time, pondered the derivation of the term fiddle to describe a doohicky designed to keep stuff from sliding around in a seaway. A couple of days ago I remembered a book I bought last winter on the recommendation of my friend Andy in Chapel Hill. The Sailor's Word Book, begun in 1858 by the late Admiral W.H. Smyth, RN, contains more than 14,000 nautical and naval terms. Here's what the admiral had to say about a fiddle:

FIDDLE. A contrivance to keep things from rolling off the table in bad weather. It takes its name from its resemblance to a fiddle, being made of small cords passed through wooden bridges, and hauled very taught.

This book is fascinating. Here's another timeless entry, selected at random:

BOX THE COMPASS, To. Not only to repeat the names of the 32 points in order and backwards, but also to be able to answer any and all questions respecting its divisions.

Perhaps learning how to box the compass would be a worthy personal development goal for the winter of 2012-2013?

The 744-page paperback book is available at a very reasonable $14.96 USD from Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/8r7dkwq

...and painting

Back on Ms. Bettencourt, work continues to advance slowly. If it doesn't get too hot before I get motivated to go to work, the second and final touchup paint coat will be applied in the forward cabin today.

After that, all that remains to be done before the next voyage begins will be to neaten up a bit, move in the bedding, re-provision,  finalize cruise plans, inspect the safety gear, check for hurricanes, fix the trailer bunks, study on boxing the compass...

... and hit the road for Georgetown.

Reflecting on entropy and fitting a fiddle

Ms. Bettencourt's return to active status is proceeding--inexorably, but very slowly.

The aft cabin is cleaned up and re-stowed. The middle cabin bulkheads and the underside of the new top have been repainted. The rest of the middle cabin, including the dash and deck boards are clean, but obviously in need of refurbishment.

I have begun cleaning and re-stowing the forward cabin, including the galley and head. This has revealed  many other things in need of attention. For example, a rash has developed in the paintwork under the windows, a painted plywood deck board is de-laminating and paint is flaking off bulkheads here and there.

All this has me thinking about entropy. If you define the term as the "inevitable and steady deterioration of a system or society," and if you accept Ms. Bettencourt as a system (which she surely is), then she is surely beset by entropy. There is only one, albeit temporary, cure for entropy: Try to stay ahead of it. I have fallen behind.

So an afternoon I expected to spend dusting, wiping down painted surfaces, cleaning windows and re-stowing mattresses and linens degenerated into a long session with a paint scraper, sandpaper and masking tape. This is generally unrewarding drudge work which is likely to continue for some days.

But it could be a whole lot worse: In 2004, when I was working to bring the boat back to life after a 12-year abandonment by a previous owner, the forward cabin looked like this:

You can click on the pictures to enlarge. It was not a pretty sight.













Here's a photo of the galley, taken at about the same time. Notice the clutter of containers behind the two horizontal dowels to the left. That retaining structure is called a "fiddle," a nautical term of uncertain origin.

Can you believe I actually saved that primitive fiddle when I gutted the interior?

I not only saved it, but I was able to find it yesterday, after only a brief search






Here it is, back in place for a trial fitting. I will have to set it somewhat lower than it was before to work around a strut that holds up a microwave shelf  I added above the space during renovation.

I think my old/new fiddle is going to be a neat and functional addition to the galley space.










In case you are curious, that  blue stuff shown on the bulkheads in the old photos was indoor-outdoor carpeting. The previous owner had applied the stuff over the original hull liner with two-sided tape. I tore all that out in 2003-04, as well as all the degraded original hull liner. I painted the entire interior with Interlux Bilgekote. It has held up well, except for previously mentioned rash under the windows.

And, concluding this reflection on entropy, it's important to note the degradations that had me worried in Ms. Bettercourt yesterday, pale in comparison to the end stage entropy I faced on the same vessel in 2003.

Afloat again; rolling enclosure curtains

My brother Boris emailed from his home in New Mexico this morning, wanting to know if the boat was launched on schedule or if some other disaster had occurred. This caused me to conclude that if there is such sincere interest in the matter in the American desert Southwest, the rest of the world probably needs to know what happened as well. Thanks Boris. Here's the report:

Ms Bettencourt came off her trailer almost too easily at the North Augusta ramp yesterday morning. The ramp is so steep and the river so low that the boat's anchor nearly caught on the trailer winch stand. Though my policy is that "a millimeter is as good as a kilometer," I'll watch this clearance closer in future launches.

Transit from the ramp to my dock was uneventful. The long-silent old 3-cylinder Kubota engine started easily and ran flawlessly. We clocked 6.6 knots by GPS at 1900 RPM downstream.

A cleaning frenzy has begun. Except for two road trips to Charleston and back, the boat has been parked 100 yards downwind from a steel fabricating plant since July 24. There is a gritty film all over, inside and out.

After the cleanup, I will recommission the pressure water system, the water heater and the fresh water head. I also need to make sure that my GPS is still talking with my DSC-enabled VHF radio transceiver.

And a few minor changes will be made to the newly installed cabin enclosure. The way the side curtains roll up will be improved. I shortened and reinforced the belaying straps on the port side curtain today and the changes were definitely an improvement.

If you  click to enlarge this picture you will get a perspective on the opening size with the side curtain rolled up to the outside. Ideally, one would want the curtain bundle rolled as tightly as possible up under the roof overhang.

But, I am told that can damage the clear vinyl window material. so we are rolling loosely, but lifting the roll higher than it was when it came out of the canvas shop.

Here's what it looks like from the outside. I like the opening size.

And here's the inside view. Incidentally, it is also possible to roll the curtains up with the roll on the inside of the cabin instead of outside under the roof overhang. I tried it both ways. I like the roll to the outside better.



I will probably do the starboard side curtain the same way. The back curtain will stay the way it is, because I think I will be rolling the back curtain up only infrequently.

Next week, I'm planning a day cruise down river to Gum Swamp and back. My friends Major and Wendell will be coming over for that trip. Everything should be shipshape before then.

Dirt scouting

My friend Paul and I drove down to Savannah yesterday, stopping at a number of  landings on either side of the Savannah River. I wanted to reassure myself that the on-line automated river gauges were telling the truth. I am thinking increasingly of a fall cruise down river to Savannah, thence to Beaufort, SC. It would not be a happy trip if I had to bring a shovel and dig my own channels.

Why, you might ask, would there ever be a sufficient water issue? The answer is the drought. The upstream lake levels are at historic lows. Thurmond Lake, from whence the Savannah River now issues, has a normal pool level of about 330 feet above mean sea level. Now it stands at 318 above MSL. Some people are walking around their grounded lakeside boat docks pushing lawnmowers.

The US Army Corps of Engineers tries to manage recreational water water storage demands and still let enough water go downstream from dams at the lakes to prevent saltwater intrusion into the aquifer at Savannah harbor.

Here's a link that seeks to explain how they do it.

 http://water.sas.usace.army.mil/home/IndexDU.htm

The schematic on the left will lead you to river gauge readings at various locations. If you click on "Morning report" at the top of the page and scroll down to Thurmond, you will get a tabular snapshot showing levels, inflows, outflows and other data over time.

The Engineers have reduced the flow to 3800 cubic feet per second. This is worrisome because low flow contributes to channel silting. Savannah River channels have not been dredged since the 1970s. I may still bring a shovel.

However, our reconnoiter indicates there is sufficient water in the river now to float Ms. Bettencourt down to the sea. And, we had an enjoyable time finding that out.

Our first stop, on the South Carolina side of the river, was at Little Hell Landing. Some years ago the owner of a farm nearby drilled an artesian well by a slough off the main river. It is still bubbling away prodigiously. The water temperature at the fountain is about 60F. The last time Paul and I came here by boat we spotted a couple of alligators swimming across the slough. I had to be the first to wade ashore to assure Paul a gator free zone.

Little Hell is actually a fairly inviting place. The cold water from the well makes it a popular site for a shocking plunge on a hot summer day. Judging from many recently used campfire sites, it must be a destination for outings too. It is picturesque.

Continuing South from Little Hell, we drove up to a couple of lesser landings, both most notable for biting insect populations. Then, crossing the River on old US Highway 301, we visited Burton's Ferry Landing. Burton's Ferry, also known as Millhaven,  is at about the halfway point on the river between Augusta and Savannah Harbor. There is plenty of water here.

The above photo is looking down river. Back in the days of river commerce, Burton's Ferry was a stopping place for tugs and barges. The bundle of pilings in the following picture is first in a row of several "camels" where towboats and barges tied up.

Highway 301 was a four-lane highway over the river here, with a high swing bridge and full-time bridge tenders. The bridge was de-activated and locked open a couple decades ago and the two lanes of the highway that once passed over the swing span have been re-routed.




The latticed pilings and swing bridge structure remain in place and seem to be as ready now as they were when the bridge was working.

Our final scouting stop of the day was also on the Georgia side of the river. Ebenezer Landing is a place with a fascinating history: The first Europeans to inhabit this area were the Salzburgers, a group of devout Protestants fleeing persecution in Austria and Germany. This building has been in continuous use as a place of worship since 1734. There was a thriving fortified community here until the Revolutionary War, when the town was destroyed by the British. The church, a large churchyard cemetery and a retreat center remain today.

Before its destruction, Ebenezer was know for its silk production. And,  briefly, the town served as capital of the Georgia colony.







We checked a privately owned. boat ramp on the river nearby, staying just long enough to confirm a healthy water flow past the place. I remember this area from my last river trip. It will be a tricky passage. The channel is mostly on the South Carolina side. Water access to the Ebenezer Landing ramp is limited to very small boats. We won't be stopping here.

Meanwhile, back in Augusta, the current plan is to launch Ms. Bettencourt into the river at the North Augusta ramp next Tuesday. We trailered her to Charleston and back last Wednesday for final modifications to the new enclosure. We are more than ready now for some time on the water.