With TANGO launched and secure in her berth, it was time to prepare JAZZ for transfer to Brian Keoughan.
Saturday morning I met Brian and Linda at B Dock and we began the arduous process of aligning the prop shaft. Finishing that work and testing it in the straps, we decided to check it "out There". Captain Ron was right, the failures are all "Out There"! Cranking the engine and motoring out , I was regaling them with my expert wisdom on all the electronic gimcracks on the boat when I noticed that the just-adjusted idle speed was causing the engine to shut-off at idle. Unusual, but it cranked right back up. Then it did it again and would not restart. Shucks! I unfurled the jib and got us back under way and headed for the dock.
Tony and Brenda Coy had been following us out in their new skiff. I raised Brenda via cellphone and arranged a tow. Pete Vagovic caught us at eh dock and after nearly destroying the power pedestal, we settled back in to the berth.
I tried the normal bleeding and didn't like the smell of the fuel. I had some left from fueling TANGO and added around 3 gallons to make sure the tank gauge wasn't lying. Still no run. We adjourned for the night with a plan to dump all fuel, check filters and try again in the morning.
Sunday, I arrived with 15 fresh gallons and three empty cans. Using a Moeller Vacuum pot we drained around 8 gallons out and then sucked all the fuel out of the tank. The filter was clean as evidenced by the rate of fuel flow into the pot through the fuel line. I changed the engine filter and then refilled the tank.
Bleeding went normally until I tried to bleed the injectors. I really wasn't getting fuel properly. I'd get little at first and then nothing. Throttle position didn't matter. After several attempts, I declared to Brian and Linda that, "I'm going nuclear on this thing!"
I determined to remove the input to the injector pump and found good flow. Removing the output piping at the injector pump showed a little fuel when first spun then nothing.
Fearing a governor spring failure, I removed the throttle arm and side plate and felt into that dark little hole for the governor arm. It was free and seemed to have the spring tensions I remembered.
I asked Linda to start the engine while I manipulated the governor manually. The engine started and I could control it manually.
I reassembled the side plate and when I put the throttle arm on I found my mistake. Last summer I had reinstalled the throttle arm cocked on the shaft. Nut tension was enough to run the engine and hold it in place for a while, then it slipped, loosened and allowed the fuel governor to slip all the way to cutoff.
I reinstalled the throttle arm correctly, and everything is perfect! I had Brian take her out and we motored for around an hour.
Today, I went with them to their Credit Union and signed JAZZ over. She is a wonderful and lovely boat! Fair Winds and Flat Seas! (Did you ever sail in following seas? It sucks!)
Monday, April 27, 2015
Arrival at Clark's Hill Lake
Okay I followed my own advice and had everything and every one lined up. The driver lost a tire 18 miles from the ramp and delayed us by 45 minutes. He got there, the crane got there and everything just went faster!
Many hands made unpacking the mast a breeze. Dan West helped me to pack it and remembered how to put it together. I got John Gill, who had worked with on the thru-hulls in Key West, to replace the defective transducer. Greg Hatcher is a construction superintendent, crane signaling was easy for him. I just ran around checking and fetching tools and supplies. Everybody else filled in and lent a hand where needed. Clyde and Audie Wood were first-timers and agog at how fast it all went. Tom Renard was the inside guy for the mast wiring. Earl Robinson was everywhere. Brian Keoughan was on deck rigging while Dale Demyan and other helped wrangle the mast during the lift.
The one man who knew what he was doing all the time was my driver for The Boat Exchange in Irmo, SC, Rick Bracanovich. He's done this so many times, including several transfers at the ASC, and his advice and methods were always sound.
After several attempts to remember which hole the furler was pinned to the second hole forward and the backstay was secured. The rig is loose, but stands!
The rest of the launch was clockwork. No Leaks!
Many hands made unpacking the mast a breeze. Dan West helped me to pack it and remembered how to put it together. I got John Gill, who had worked with on the thru-hulls in Key West, to replace the defective transducer. Greg Hatcher is a construction superintendent, crane signaling was easy for him. I just ran around checking and fetching tools and supplies. Everybody else filled in and lent a hand where needed. Clyde and Audie Wood were first-timers and agog at how fast it all went. Tom Renard was the inside guy for the mast wiring. Earl Robinson was everywhere. Brian Keoughan was on deck rigging while Dale Demyan and other helped wrangle the mast during the lift.
The one man who knew what he was doing all the time was my driver for The Boat Exchange in Irmo, SC, Rick Bracanovich. He's done this so many times, including several transfers at the ASC, and his advice and methods were always sound.
After several attempts to remember which hole the furler was pinned to the second hole forward and the backstay was secured. The rig is loose, but stands!
The rest of the launch was clockwork. No Leaks!
Transporting Big Boats
The reason for all the adventure and fun of sailing to Fort Lauderdale was to avoid having to truck the boat out of the Keys. Although we were in a nice full-service yard capable of removing the mast and hoisting the boat onto a trailer, the next part was complicated and expensive. It would have cost $1200-1600 dollars extra to secure the permits and escorts to move the boat the first 130 miles. Oversized loads have to move under double escort and then only after 2100. Once out of the Keys, the load can't be moved at night! Therefore, at least an extra night on the road or more.
So we sailed to FLL and paid around $900 to Playboy Marine Center to haul, pressure wash, dis-mast, and block TANGO.
That is $900 cold cash. No Checks. No Credit Cards. And no move until paid! The yard opens at 0700 and closes at 1800. Closed. No entry. Period. But it is a clean, organized, and otherwise friendly place with expert staff. But they don't have a sanitary pump-out, so either dump it before you get there or plan to transport your waste in the holding tank.
Preparing the boat and mast is not hard. Go to the local Home Depot with the rental car you used to get to your hotel. I did mention that you can't stay on your boat, didn't I? Get a roll of bubble wrap, some of the plastic wrap that comes on a roll, some shipping tape, and if you can get it the self-clinging plastic wrap around 12-inches wide that's used to wrap luggage and pallets of boxes.
Picture your stuff in an 85-knot wind bouncing and vibrating on a flat-bed for 1000 miles. Now pad everything that touches anything else and seal it from road dirt, rain and mud.
When you take the boom off the mast, leave the sail on it with the sail cover still on. Store it in the cabin sole. The sail and cover will not only protect the boom, but it will also protect your cabin sole and furniture from the boom. Put the dodger and bimini frames in the cabin with generous bubble wrap padding and secure them from any movement. Tape all the drawers shut. Plastic containers can chafe through their own bottoms if left in cabinets unpadded. Liquor bottles will break. My suggestion is to pad them and put in the ice box and sinks. At least then the fluids will be captured and drained.
Close and dog down tightly all ports and hatches. If your seals are suspect tape the outside against rain intrusion. Remove Dorade vents and tape their holes. Remove all the things that stick up. Deck-mounted antennae should be removed or laid down and secured thoroughly along their entire length. Radar masts should be laid down on deck and padded and tied so they cannot shift in a hard stop. Tape or lock all outside lockers after checking their contents for security. Check and tie down the batteries. Dinghies and motors should be removed and if necessary shipped separately. If you decide to store motor below, drain the tank, ensure the oil cannot leak and secure it heavily.
Drain water tanks and, if possible, fuel tanks. If you can't drain them, consider filling them. The worst situation is half-full. If the tanks aren't properly baffled, and most aren't, the sheer force of 50 gallons of liquid moving at 60 MPH in a panic stop is enough to tear a tank loose or blow a hose off. Your sailboat is built for 15 MPH.
Since your rigging has been disconnected, make sure that all the turnbuckles are pinned so they can't vibrate loose and get lost. Pad them so the don't mar the boat. Lock down the anchor well and make very sure that any anchor left stowed on rollers or mounts cannot possibly jump off and try to anchor your boat while the trailer is rolling down the road! Even if it only comes out a little bit, a swinging anchor will destroy the bow.
For your own sanity, don't try to follow your boat down the road. It's just not good and it is useless.
Unless you own the trucking company, any attempt to "correct" the driving habits of the driver is not going to be a pleasant encounter. Besides, you hired a great company after getting several recommendations and researching them on the Web, right?
What happens at the other end may be as simple as rolling into a full-service boatyard with all the equipment to handle re-commisioning your boat or as complex as being the first large sailboat on a small lake with only a ramp for your launch.
In the Marines, we make special efforts to "recon" every beach before we get there. You should do the same for the arrival of your boat.
Can the trucker who drove it there get his trailer wet? Is it even possible to launch on the ramp you've chosen? Take the draft of your boat, add the height of the bottom of the keel on the trailer and you have the minimum depth of water needed to launch. A typical 6-foot draft with an added 18-inches of trailer will need 7 and a half feet of water to float off, minimum. Is the ramp long enough to allow the back wheels of the trailer to remain on solid concrete with the center of the boat that deep?
Man-made lakes are variable. The dam operator can raise or lower the levels and therefore the depth at the ramp. In planning the move, be sure to check that level and the ramp.
Check the availability and capability of the crane or lift that will set your mast. Setting the mast with a capable, professional crane service is a snap compared to the process necessary to use a fixed lift such as a gin pole.
Man (or woman) power is needed. I had 13 people on-site for my last launch and none of them felt unwanted. Hold a good safety brief, explain the entire procedure, assign jobs and expect to move from area to area checking on progress. Bring enough food and water to keep them happy. Beer is for lunch afterwards.
Finally, make sure everything is there tools, hardware and people to do the whole job as efficiently as possible. Ask the driver to plan on being at your launch all day. If the driver only scheduled an hour to get your boat off his trailer, he is not going to be happy. Remember this could be his first time! Ask him not to schedule a pick-up on the same day. Have plenty of hardware and supplies. Don't let the job stop while somebody runs to a store for sealant.
Have a backup plan. If the mast can't be put up because of a breakage or lost parts, can you launch the hull and raise the mast later? If the boat leaks when you back in the water, can you fix it? On and on forever! You can't anticipate all of them, but at least the most probable "fails" can be worked out.
Absolutely last is to make sure you know what form of payment the crane operator and driver need. Your credit card may not work on-site and they may refuse a check. Everybody seems to like cash!
So we sailed to FLL and paid around $900 to Playboy Marine Center to haul, pressure wash, dis-mast, and block TANGO.
That is $900 cold cash. No Checks. No Credit Cards. And no move until paid! The yard opens at 0700 and closes at 1800. Closed. No entry. Period. But it is a clean, organized, and otherwise friendly place with expert staff. But they don't have a sanitary pump-out, so either dump it before you get there or plan to transport your waste in the holding tank.
Preparing the boat and mast is not hard. Go to the local Home Depot with the rental car you used to get to your hotel. I did mention that you can't stay on your boat, didn't I? Get a roll of bubble wrap, some of the plastic wrap that comes on a roll, some shipping tape, and if you can get it the self-clinging plastic wrap around 12-inches wide that's used to wrap luggage and pallets of boxes.
Picture your stuff in an 85-knot wind bouncing and vibrating on a flat-bed for 1000 miles. Now pad everything that touches anything else and seal it from road dirt, rain and mud.
When you take the boom off the mast, leave the sail on it with the sail cover still on. Store it in the cabin sole. The sail and cover will not only protect the boom, but it will also protect your cabin sole and furniture from the boom. Put the dodger and bimini frames in the cabin with generous bubble wrap padding and secure them from any movement. Tape all the drawers shut. Plastic containers can chafe through their own bottoms if left in cabinets unpadded. Liquor bottles will break. My suggestion is to pad them and put in the ice box and sinks. At least then the fluids will be captured and drained.
Close and dog down tightly all ports and hatches. If your seals are suspect tape the outside against rain intrusion. Remove Dorade vents and tape their holes. Remove all the things that stick up. Deck-mounted antennae should be removed or laid down and secured thoroughly along their entire length. Radar masts should be laid down on deck and padded and tied so they cannot shift in a hard stop. Tape or lock all outside lockers after checking their contents for security. Check and tie down the batteries. Dinghies and motors should be removed and if necessary shipped separately. If you decide to store motor below, drain the tank, ensure the oil cannot leak and secure it heavily.
Drain water tanks and, if possible, fuel tanks. If you can't drain them, consider filling them. The worst situation is half-full. If the tanks aren't properly baffled, and most aren't, the sheer force of 50 gallons of liquid moving at 60 MPH in a panic stop is enough to tear a tank loose or blow a hose off. Your sailboat is built for 15 MPH.
Since your rigging has been disconnected, make sure that all the turnbuckles are pinned so they can't vibrate loose and get lost. Pad them so the don't mar the boat. Lock down the anchor well and make very sure that any anchor left stowed on rollers or mounts cannot possibly jump off and try to anchor your boat while the trailer is rolling down the road! Even if it only comes out a little bit, a swinging anchor will destroy the bow.
For your own sanity, don't try to follow your boat down the road. It's just not good and it is useless.
Unless you own the trucking company, any attempt to "correct" the driving habits of the driver is not going to be a pleasant encounter. Besides, you hired a great company after getting several recommendations and researching them on the Web, right?
What happens at the other end may be as simple as rolling into a full-service boatyard with all the equipment to handle re-commisioning your boat or as complex as being the first large sailboat on a small lake with only a ramp for your launch.
In the Marines, we make special efforts to "recon" every beach before we get there. You should do the same for the arrival of your boat.
Can the trucker who drove it there get his trailer wet? Is it even possible to launch on the ramp you've chosen? Take the draft of your boat, add the height of the bottom of the keel on the trailer and you have the minimum depth of water needed to launch. A typical 6-foot draft with an added 18-inches of trailer will need 7 and a half feet of water to float off, minimum. Is the ramp long enough to allow the back wheels of the trailer to remain on solid concrete with the center of the boat that deep?
Man-made lakes are variable. The dam operator can raise or lower the levels and therefore the depth at the ramp. In planning the move, be sure to check that level and the ramp.
Check the availability and capability of the crane or lift that will set your mast. Setting the mast with a capable, professional crane service is a snap compared to the process necessary to use a fixed lift such as a gin pole.
Man (or woman) power is needed. I had 13 people on-site for my last launch and none of them felt unwanted. Hold a good safety brief, explain the entire procedure, assign jobs and expect to move from area to area checking on progress. Bring enough food and water to keep them happy. Beer is for lunch afterwards.
Finally, make sure everything is there tools, hardware and people to do the whole job as efficiently as possible. Ask the driver to plan on being at your launch all day. If the driver only scheduled an hour to get your boat off his trailer, he is not going to be happy. Remember this could be his first time! Ask him not to schedule a pick-up on the same day. Have plenty of hardware and supplies. Don't let the job stop while somebody runs to a store for sealant.
Have a backup plan. If the mast can't be put up because of a breakage or lost parts, can you launch the hull and raise the mast later? If the boat leaks when you back in the water, can you fix it? On and on forever! You can't anticipate all of them, but at least the most probable "fails" can be worked out.
Absolutely last is to make sure you know what form of payment the crane operator and driver need. Your credit card may not work on-site and they may refuse a check. Everybody seems to like cash!
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Fuel Filters at anchor.
I always try to have a fresh set of primary and secondary fuel filters on board at all times. As the fuel is burned down and begins t slosh around in the tank, all the accumulated crud and dirt is stirred up, suck out and clogs the filters resulting in fuel starvation.
Sunday morning April 19th was cool and clear with a nice northeasterly breeze. We only had a 4-6 hour trip up to FLL (The ICAO designator for the Fort Lauderdale International Airport). Spinning off the engine filter revealed very little fuel in the bowl! The filter was dirty enough to change, but not clogged. The primary filter was the same story. I asked "Dan the Flexible One"to blow into the fuel line and see if he heard bubbles. At first the line was blocked, then it cleared.
One of the design flaws I found in my 31 Hunter was that the fuel pickup tube had a brass screen in the bottom of the tube. That screen is to trap bigger pieces of dirt and algae before they get to the filter. The result is that you have an unreachable, unfixable clog point in the fuel system. I want the filters to clog! They are reasonably easy to access and change. Disassembling the tank top in a seaway is a real mess!
With a full load of fresh fuel fuel from the ten gallons in cans I'd brought and new filters, now the exercise was to "bleed" all the air out of the lines and pumps. Yanmar provides a very low-tech and low volume pump at the engine-driven pump to facilitate refilling the filter bowls. It is much better to refill the bowls and then reinstall them full. The other "trick" with the 2GM and 3GM engines is to close the raw water intake off, trip the decompression levers and spin the engine to pump fuel during the bleeding.
That part was easy, getting the rusted and inaccessible line nuts cracked to expel air required ingenuity. Never travel with a metric diesel without a full set of open-end wrenches for bleeding.
After a memory failure that had me attempting to bleed the injectors via the return lines, we got the engine started and pulled the anchor for FLL.
This time the winds and seas were on our stern. After slatting along for a few hours we stowed the jib and motored on using Main sail alone. The Autohelm 3000 was completely over-powered by the 3-5 footers on our stern and we had to man the wheel for the last three hours. The work of steering forced us to abandon the three-hour watch system and go to hourly changes at the helm.
By 1630 we were in FLL and tied up to the "wall" at Playboy Marine Center among $70-200 million dollar mega yachts.
John grabbed his duffel, said goodbye and was picked up at the dock by Pat his wife. Dan and I hooked up to shore power, ate and went to sleep.
Sunday morning April 19th was cool and clear with a nice northeasterly breeze. We only had a 4-6 hour trip up to FLL (The ICAO designator for the Fort Lauderdale International Airport). Spinning off the engine filter revealed very little fuel in the bowl! The filter was dirty enough to change, but not clogged. The primary filter was the same story. I asked "Dan the Flexible One"to blow into the fuel line and see if he heard bubbles. At first the line was blocked, then it cleared.
One of the design flaws I found in my 31 Hunter was that the fuel pickup tube had a brass screen in the bottom of the tube. That screen is to trap bigger pieces of dirt and algae before they get to the filter. The result is that you have an unreachable, unfixable clog point in the fuel system. I want the filters to clog! They are reasonably easy to access and change. Disassembling the tank top in a seaway is a real mess!
With a full load of fresh fuel fuel from the ten gallons in cans I'd brought and new filters, now the exercise was to "bleed" all the air out of the lines and pumps. Yanmar provides a very low-tech and low volume pump at the engine-driven pump to facilitate refilling the filter bowls. It is much better to refill the bowls and then reinstall them full. The other "trick" with the 2GM and 3GM engines is to close the raw water intake off, trip the decompression levers and spin the engine to pump fuel during the bleeding.
That part was easy, getting the rusted and inaccessible line nuts cracked to expel air required ingenuity. Never travel with a metric diesel without a full set of open-end wrenches for bleeding.
After a memory failure that had me attempting to bleed the injectors via the return lines, we got the engine started and pulled the anchor for FLL.
This time the winds and seas were on our stern. After slatting along for a few hours we stowed the jib and motored on using Main sail alone. The Autohelm 3000 was completely over-powered by the 3-5 footers on our stern and we had to man the wheel for the last three hours. The work of steering forced us to abandon the three-hour watch system and go to hourly changes at the helm.
By 1630 we were in FLL and tied up to the "wall" at Playboy Marine Center among $70-200 million dollar mega yachts.
John grabbed his duffel, said goodbye and was picked up at the dock by Pat his wife. Dan and I hooked up to shore power, ate and went to sleep.
Marathon to Miami
Saturday morning the 18th of April is the day of the 7-mile Bridge Run. Fifteen hundred randomly selected runners have the chance to run the closed bridge. The result is one enormous traffic jam on the only highway in (or out) of the Keys.
Since we wanted an early start for our intended run to Rodriguez Key near Key Largo, we avoided the clog-up and went to the boat on Friday night.
John Chamberlin is a retired Marine Warrant Officer I met in Boca Chica and the Sigsbee RV Park. He and his son Jason run Bottom Time Boat Hull Cleaning and spend their days scrubbing boat bottoms. John (in addition to being the perfect Popeye look-alike) is a fun guy to be around and very experienced in passage making, especially the East Coast. He offered to just deliver the boat, but I need the experience. He makes all the strategic decisions on this trip, he is the Captain.
Dan West is almost retired after running a very successful Midwest-based construction company doing large jobs for local through federal governments. He even has a specialized division designing and spec'ing Air Force fuel farms. Dan and I are Past Commodores of the Augusta Sailing Club and Micky and I hosted Dan and his wife Patty when they sailed their 46-foot Hylas to the Keys. He is also experienced in making the passages up the coast of Florida.
Marathon Marina has a sanitary pump-out system installed at every slip. After a short search for the required hose, we emptied the holding tank, slipped the dock lines and motored out to a beautiful Keys sunrise.
Clearing the last day-mark, we set course east and raised sails. With the help of a beam reach the boat ran very well with ground speeds in the 5-6 knot range. The seas were 2-4 feet and running astern, but the westerly current made them sloppy.
The first six hours were uneventful. We were making great time and secured the engine after checking temperatures. Sailing speeds increased to around 6.6 knots in the 12-knot winds and we help the course steady until the vicinity of Islamorada where the winds slackened and the motor came back on.
We had made such good time we changed our plan and decided to press on to Miami. Leaving Hawk Channel near Alligator Reef, we started picking up the Gulf Stream and by the time we passed Carysfort Light we were seeing 7-7.5 knots. We also picked up an annoying RPM fall-off. Intermittently, the engine speed would drop around 50 RPM. Even tone-deaf Marines can detect the change. From Ocean Reef on, the RPM drops became much more noticeable and on occasion would drop from 3000 to 1500 and slowly recover. We had fair weather, light winds, calm seas and plenty of places to sail and drop anchor. I also had been paying BoatUS for the "Gold Unlimited" Towing package for the past few years, so with that trump card in my wallet, we had no fear!
Sunset was just south of Miami and by 2200 we were anchored of No Name Harbor, Key Biscayne with the dazzlingly lit party boats in the shadow of South Beach.
No Name Harbor is near "Stiltsville", a number of squatter fishing houses built in the shallows of Biscayne Bay. Forced out by the government, the houses look amazing good from a distance and have withstood ferocious hurricanes, but are just hulks when viewed close-up.
I dropped the anchor in 15-20 feet and we settled in for a good meal and a sleep. Marathon to Miami in 14 hours of sailing and motoring isn't bad for a small 34-footer.
Since we wanted an early start for our intended run to Rodriguez Key near Key Largo, we avoided the clog-up and went to the boat on Friday night.
John Chamberlin is a retired Marine Warrant Officer I met in Boca Chica and the Sigsbee RV Park. He and his son Jason run Bottom Time Boat Hull Cleaning and spend their days scrubbing boat bottoms. John (in addition to being the perfect Popeye look-alike) is a fun guy to be around and very experienced in passage making, especially the East Coast. He offered to just deliver the boat, but I need the experience. He makes all the strategic decisions on this trip, he is the Captain.
Dan West is almost retired after running a very successful Midwest-based construction company doing large jobs for local through federal governments. He even has a specialized division designing and spec'ing Air Force fuel farms. Dan and I are Past Commodores of the Augusta Sailing Club and Micky and I hosted Dan and his wife Patty when they sailed their 46-foot Hylas to the Keys. He is also experienced in making the passages up the coast of Florida.
Marathon Marina has a sanitary pump-out system installed at every slip. After a short search for the required hose, we emptied the holding tank, slipped the dock lines and motored out to a beautiful Keys sunrise.
Clearing the last day-mark, we set course east and raised sails. With the help of a beam reach the boat ran very well with ground speeds in the 5-6 knot range. The seas were 2-4 feet and running astern, but the westerly current made them sloppy.
The first six hours were uneventful. We were making great time and secured the engine after checking temperatures. Sailing speeds increased to around 6.6 knots in the 12-knot winds and we help the course steady until the vicinity of Islamorada where the winds slackened and the motor came back on.
We had made such good time we changed our plan and decided to press on to Miami. Leaving Hawk Channel near Alligator Reef, we started picking up the Gulf Stream and by the time we passed Carysfort Light we were seeing 7-7.5 knots. We also picked up an annoying RPM fall-off. Intermittently, the engine speed would drop around 50 RPM. Even tone-deaf Marines can detect the change. From Ocean Reef on, the RPM drops became much more noticeable and on occasion would drop from 3000 to 1500 and slowly recover. We had fair weather, light winds, calm seas and plenty of places to sail and drop anchor. I also had been paying BoatUS for the "Gold Unlimited" Towing package for the past few years, so with that trump card in my wallet, we had no fear!
Sunset was just south of Miami and by 2200 we were anchored of No Name Harbor, Key Biscayne with the dazzlingly lit party boats in the shadow of South Beach.
No Name Harbor is near "Stiltsville", a number of squatter fishing houses built in the shallows of Biscayne Bay. Forced out by the government, the houses look amazing good from a distance and have withstood ferocious hurricanes, but are just hulks when viewed close-up.
I dropped the anchor in 15-20 feet and we settled in for a good meal and a sleep. Marathon to Miami in 14 hours of sailing and motoring isn't bad for a small 34-footer.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Marathon Marina and the new rig
If you've got to be away from Boca Chica, Marathon Marina is the place to be! Clean, organized, and fully equipped with all the amenities including a pool!
The day after arrival, Keys Rigging arrived with a crane and laid the mast down in front of the boat.
They measured and stripped the rigging and left me to tinker with it while the new wires were swaged.
I put a new block at the spinnaker bail, pulled the new VHF coax, cleaned and repainted the masthead plate, installed the new anchor light and the fitting for the Garmin wireless wind sensor.
We changed the way the wire channel worked top and bottom after finding a totally inadequate cutout at the bottom for wire exit and a miserable affair at the top requiring wires to loop down to make it to the masthead.
Curt also found a factory defect in the way the masthead was attached to the mast. The two bolts that secured the fitting, interfered with the main halyard and the wire halyard had sawed through a quarter of the three-eighths bolt!
I made a trip to Specialty Hardware in Marathon for a new bolt and a long drill to go through in one pass. What a pleasure to find a real hardware store with staff that knew exactly what I needed, found it quickly and even charged a very fair price! Very recommended!
Assembling the rig and raising the mast was two longish days, but the joy of watching and learning as Curt and Jason Childers assembled and swayed the mast was worth every dime!
The third day Gavin came a board and did the final tuning.
The Harken ESP One furler is simple and simply superb! the new stanchion blocks make the friction in the system extremely low.
This boat has a new lease on life and should be alive and romping long after the we are dead.
On to Lauderdale.
The day after arrival, Keys Rigging arrived with a crane and laid the mast down in front of the boat.
They measured and stripped the rigging and left me to tinker with it while the new wires were swaged.
I put a new block at the spinnaker bail, pulled the new VHF coax, cleaned and repainted the masthead plate, installed the new anchor light and the fitting for the Garmin wireless wind sensor.
We changed the way the wire channel worked top and bottom after finding a totally inadequate cutout at the bottom for wire exit and a miserable affair at the top requiring wires to loop down to make it to the masthead.
Curt also found a factory defect in the way the masthead was attached to the mast. The two bolts that secured the fitting, interfered with the main halyard and the wire halyard had sawed through a quarter of the three-eighths bolt!
I made a trip to Specialty Hardware in Marathon for a new bolt and a long drill to go through in one pass. What a pleasure to find a real hardware store with staff that knew exactly what I needed, found it quickly and even charged a very fair price! Very recommended!
Assembling the rig and raising the mast was two longish days, but the joy of watching and learning as Curt and Jason Childers assembled and swayed the mast was worth every dime!
The third day Gavin came a board and did the final tuning.
The Harken ESP One furler is simple and simply superb! the new stanchion blocks make the friction in the system extremely low.
This boat has a new lease on life and should be alive and romping long after the we are dead.
On to Lauderdale.
Boca Chica to Marathon
Okay, the standing rigging on TANGO is rotten with rust. Sort of expected that with a 29 year-old rig in salt water.
I asked Keys Rigging to fit a new furler and when Curt Johnson suggested an inspection first, I readily agreed. Curt and his partner began the inspection at deck level and after finding several cracked fittings at the deck began climbing and inspecting. Curt got to the lower spreaders, found several more cracks and decided he wouldn't go higher and that the rigging needed replacements, not repairs. He braced the rig with my jib halyard down the starboard spreaders and relieved the strain aft using the main halyard. He also cautioned against sailing the boat and being careful with the weather while motoring to Marathon.
I asked my dock-mate, Jon Siewers, to go with me. We motored out of BCM and although the speed dropped as low as 2.8 knots in the counter-current in the Hawk Channel, we had an uneventful trip until near the west end of the 7-mile Bridge when we heard a loud bang. It sounded like a door slamming around, and indeed, the door had come undone and was banging in the sloppy waves caused by the tidal rip near the Moser Channel.
Then we found the broken Windex on the starboard deck! What had happened was that the upper shroud had parted at the spreader fitting. I was very glad that Keys Rigging had braced that side!
By that time we were in the lee of Boot Key and had a quiet motor in. Tied up to slip 25 and left the boat for a nice meal at Geiger Key, complete with mosquitoes!
I asked Keys Rigging to fit a new furler and when Curt Johnson suggested an inspection first, I readily agreed. Curt and his partner began the inspection at deck level and after finding several cracked fittings at the deck began climbing and inspecting. Curt got to the lower spreaders, found several more cracks and decided he wouldn't go higher and that the rigging needed replacements, not repairs. He braced the rig with my jib halyard down the starboard spreaders and relieved the strain aft using the main halyard. He also cautioned against sailing the boat and being careful with the weather while motoring to Marathon.
I asked my dock-mate, Jon Siewers, to go with me. We motored out of BCM and although the speed dropped as low as 2.8 knots in the counter-current in the Hawk Channel, we had an uneventful trip until near the west end of the 7-mile Bridge when we heard a loud bang. It sounded like a door slamming around, and indeed, the door had come undone and was banging in the sloppy waves caused by the tidal rip near the Moser Channel.
Then we found the broken Windex on the starboard deck! What had happened was that the upper shroud had parted at the spreader fitting. I was very glad that Keys Rigging had braced that side!
By that time we were in the lee of Boot Key and had a quiet motor in. Tied up to slip 25 and left the boat for a nice meal at Geiger Key, complete with mosquitoes!
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Spamalot
Yesterday's rigging inspection was added onto Curt and Jason's day by Keys Rigging as a favor to me. They already had a job in Boca Chica putting a radar reflector on the mast of "Sassanoa" a huge ketch in our marina. Apparently, the job took much longer than anticipated.
Micky and I were originally going to just sit and wait in the motorhome until called, but I got antsy when two o'clock passed with no call and we drove over to check on them.
I was relieved to see their trailer in the parking lot and after greeting Curt, we sat under the shade on the dockhead.
Seeing Jason still up the mast at four o'clock, I remarked to Micky that I expected them to finish that job, come to see us and explain that they had run longer than they should, were tired from working in the sun, and would not get to us that day. I would have done just that!
Curt surprised me when he said he needed to stop at the trailer and then he and Jason would start "Island Princess" at five.
I couldn't refuse and Micky wanted to complete that job as badly as I did. We sat under the thatched roof (in the Keys these are Seminole "cheekee" huts, I think Florida even has rules requiring native labor for their erection) on the beach watching and listening to their note taking while the inspection went on. A friend in the Marina, John Heavener, happened by and joked, "If I ever sell my boat, I don't want these guys (doing the inspection): they're too good!"
After finding a broken furler extrusion, a "trashed" VHF antenna and loose masthead light. The rig was declared basically "passed" and the equipment stowed at 7:10.
Micky and I kept to the speed limit, but wasted no time getting back to the RV, changing clothes, and cleaning the absolute essentials to head to the 8:00 performance of "Spamalot" at the Waterfront Playhouse next to Mallory Square.
Sunset celebrations on Mallory Square are a huge tourist attraction and yesterday's was spectacular. It was also at 7:45! The crowds had just started to thin and we had to wait until a parking spot opened up, pay the toll and do what passes for running for us to get to the show. We arrived at 8:02, claimed our seats and were seated in straight, but comfortable chairs on the back wall in time for the curtain to go up.
Key West is lavished with an abundance of talent for musical comedy and they work at it. The sets, staging, and live music are far above the level of expertise found in other small towns in America.
I've been a Monty Python fanatic since first seeing the original series on PBS. I have boxed DVD sets of the entire series and "The Holy Grail".
Faithful to the original, but deviating to allow the inclusion of "Bright Side of Life" from "The Life of Brian", the cast and music was fun and engaging with the audience whistling and weaving through the tag line of that darkly over-optimistic tune.
The tickets were a well-thought out surprise anniversary gift to us from my wife. Tops any "sports" gift or "couples spa" session I can think of! That's how marriages stay happy and "tuned up".
Micky and I were originally going to just sit and wait in the motorhome until called, but I got antsy when two o'clock passed with no call and we drove over to check on them.
I was relieved to see their trailer in the parking lot and after greeting Curt, we sat under the shade on the dockhead.
Seeing Jason still up the mast at four o'clock, I remarked to Micky that I expected them to finish that job, come to see us and explain that they had run longer than they should, were tired from working in the sun, and would not get to us that day. I would have done just that!
Curt surprised me when he said he needed to stop at the trailer and then he and Jason would start "Island Princess" at five.
I couldn't refuse and Micky wanted to complete that job as badly as I did. We sat under the thatched roof (in the Keys these are Seminole "cheekee" huts, I think Florida even has rules requiring native labor for their erection) on the beach watching and listening to their note taking while the inspection went on. A friend in the Marina, John Heavener, happened by and joked, "If I ever sell my boat, I don't want these guys (doing the inspection): they're too good!"
After finding a broken furler extrusion, a "trashed" VHF antenna and loose masthead light. The rig was declared basically "passed" and the equipment stowed at 7:10.
Micky and I kept to the speed limit, but wasted no time getting back to the RV, changing clothes, and cleaning the absolute essentials to head to the 8:00 performance of "Spamalot" at the Waterfront Playhouse next to Mallory Square.
Sunset celebrations on Mallory Square are a huge tourist attraction and yesterday's was spectacular. It was also at 7:45! The crowds had just started to thin and we had to wait until a parking spot opened up, pay the toll and do what passes for running for us to get to the show. We arrived at 8:02, claimed our seats and were seated in straight, but comfortable chairs on the back wall in time for the curtain to go up.
Key West is lavished with an abundance of talent for musical comedy and they work at it. The sets, staging, and live music are far above the level of expertise found in other small towns in America.
I've been a Monty Python fanatic since first seeing the original series on PBS. I have boxed DVD sets of the entire series and "The Holy Grail".
Faithful to the original, but deviating to allow the inclusion of "Bright Side of Life" from "The Life of Brian", the cast and music was fun and engaging with the audience whistling and weaving through the tag line of that darkly over-optimistic tune.
The tickets were a well-thought out surprise anniversary gift to us from my wife. Tops any "sports" gift or "couples spa" session I can think of! That's how marriages stay happy and "tuned up".
Rigging inspections 101
Those of us who keep our boats in freshwater don’t give a second thought about all that rigging wire aloft. Properly done, a set of rigging on a weekender inland boat will probably last longer than the owner. A salty coastal cruiser or ocean boat is an entirely different set of problems.
I have, unfortunately been forced to pay heavily for some expert knowledge that I am willing to share for free to my friends who may one day choose to follow in my wake.
Rust is your friend. It shows you where the failures are.
You can’t see cracks in binoculars. You have to clean the rust off and then look through a magnifying glass to find them.
Stainless steel ain’t. If the metal is deprived of oxygen (air or flowing saltwater) it will rust. There is no way to seal the swaged area after it is swaged. Fill the cup with LifeCalk, insert the wire, and then have it swaged. Don’t listen if they say it won’t work, or they won’t do it. (They don’t like the idea of goop in their machine) Find someone who will.
304 Stainless is not the same or as corrosion resistant as 316 Stainless. You want 316.
The rig should be inspected by an expert every 6 years. As often as you can it should be washed down with clean fresh water either rain or from a hose. The rig should be expertly inspected every six years. Rinse and repeat as necessary.
Set aside a fund of money that is for maintaining your boat. You know that the sails, rigging, electronics, and upholstery aren’t going to last past 10-12 years. Figure up what all that will cost ($15,000-20,000 for a 36-40 footer) divide it by twelve and start saving now so that when the time comes, you don’t squeal or sell your boat because you can’t afford the fixes. The next guy will just make you come off your price to compensate for the lack of maintenance. You don’t want to give the boat away, do you!
I pay from $255-225 for a first-class (10-15 years experience, worked for a dealer assembling and commissioning Hunters) rigger to climb and inspect. It took two guys 2.5 hours to do the job with one aloft and the other inspecting at deck level.
On TANGO they found cracks all over the rig and bad rust aloft. They cautioned me not to sail the boat and braced the mast with the jib halyard down the starboard spreaders and the main halyard relieving the strain aft.
Sure enough, an hour out of Marathon, the starboard upper shroud parted just above an eye fitting at the upper spreader, but the rig stayed in column because of the brace.
I am a believer.
I have, unfortunately been forced to pay heavily for some expert knowledge that I am willing to share for free to my friends who may one day choose to follow in my wake.
Rust is your friend. It shows you where the failures are.
You can’t see cracks in binoculars. You have to clean the rust off and then look through a magnifying glass to find them.
Stainless steel ain’t. If the metal is deprived of oxygen (air or flowing saltwater) it will rust. There is no way to seal the swaged area after it is swaged. Fill the cup with LifeCalk, insert the wire, and then have it swaged. Don’t listen if they say it won’t work, or they won’t do it. (They don’t like the idea of goop in their machine) Find someone who will.
304 Stainless is not the same or as corrosion resistant as 316 Stainless. You want 316.
The rig should be inspected by an expert every 6 years. As often as you can it should be washed down with clean fresh water either rain or from a hose. The rig should be expertly inspected every six years. Rinse and repeat as necessary.
Set aside a fund of money that is for maintaining your boat. You know that the sails, rigging, electronics, and upholstery aren’t going to last past 10-12 years. Figure up what all that will cost ($15,000-20,000 for a 36-40 footer) divide it by twelve and start saving now so that when the time comes, you don’t squeal or sell your boat because you can’t afford the fixes. The next guy will just make you come off your price to compensate for the lack of maintenance. You don’t want to give the boat away, do you!
I pay from $255-225 for a first-class (10-15 years experience, worked for a dealer assembling and commissioning Hunters) rigger to climb and inspect. It took two guys 2.5 hours to do the job with one aloft and the other inspecting at deck level.
On TANGO they found cracks all over the rig and bad rust aloft. They cautioned me not to sail the boat and braced the mast with the jib halyard down the starboard spreaders and the main halyard relieving the strain aft.
Sure enough, an hour out of Marathon, the starboard upper shroud parted just above an eye fitting at the upper spreader, but the rig stayed in column because of the brace.
I am a believer.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Motoring to Marathon
Monday, 6 April; a typical Keys day. Bright blue skies and puffy clouds. But Saturday, the wind picked up from the east and by Monday morning was blowing 10-15 knots and forecast to increase. The easterly direction makes getting from Boca Chica to Marathon especially difficult since in addition to the wind being directly on the nose, there's a westerly current of about a knot. East winds also mean a long fetch of water for the waves to build.
My dockmate, Jon Siewers, is a long-time sailor and retired Navy Captain who flew helicopters just about anywhere you can touch on a globe. Since Micky has to drive to Marathon to get us back to Boca Chica, she can't come along.
The reason for the trip is to replace all the stainless (a laughable misnomer in the tropical saltwater world) steel wires that hold the mast up and transfer the considerable forces the wind puts on my 5-ton boat into its hull. Most land folks never really feel the force of the wind. Other than an occasional buffeting of their cars, the wind just blows a few leaves around. Pulling a 10,000 pound sailboat through the water requires a 30 horsepower engine just to get to 5.5 knots and we regularly run over 6 knots under sail. Yes, it is faster to sail!
So strength and light weight are needed to hold up the mast. The mast itself is a strong aluminum extrusion and altogether weighs around 250 pounds. Most of the rigging wires are the diameter of my little finger.
Saltwater corrodes everything and when it gets into the small cups that the wire is crimped into, it forms a very weak battery that over years transfers the protective nickel and chromium out of the wires and results in rust. Rust weakens the metal not only on the surface, but "bone deep" also.
I had the experts from Keys Rigging inspect and they were alarmed enough at the condition of my 30 year-old rig to refuse to climb to the top and warn me to not sail the boat. They also ran my jib halyard to the deck parallel to the starboard shroud lines and used the main halyard to take some strain off the backstay.
The trip east to Marathon was turning out to be much rougher than expected. A sailboat without her sails up does not have the higher center of effort and "punch" into the waves, being driven by her propeller below the water. TANGO had an uncomfortable motion that was working the rig harder than we wanted while crippled.
Thanks to current and wind we could only manage around 4 knots across the ground, and with the waves on the nose the boat would occasionally pound on hard and almost stop. As a result, the 35 mile trip took 8 and a half hours instead of the 7 hours the boat was capable of.
Jon and I took turns watching out for crab pots and monitoring the autopilot as it did a sloppy job in the seas we had. At the west end of the Seven Mile Bridge the current from the Florida Bay exits into the Atlantic resulting in a confused wave action at lowering tide due to shallow water. We caught an odd wave and heard a noise like a slamming door that we both interpreted at coming from below. I thought that the head door had slammed shut. Then we found the windex lying on deck and looks up to see the starboard upper shroud had parted at the upper spreader and the mast was relying on the jib halyard to stay in column.
Keys Rigging and Curt Johnson were dead right about the rig! We made it in to the calm waters of the lee side of Knight's Key and motored into the slip with my wife, Micky, handling the lines.
The next day, we couldn't get back up to the boat until after we had moved the motorhome into full hookups on the water in Sigsbee Park. First-world problem! By the time we arrived, the crane was there and the mast was rigged for pickup.
When the mast was laid across two saw horses, the extent of the shroud failure was shocking. It looked like the wire barrel had exploded separating from the eye fitting. The wire was still firmly crimped into the barrel, but the pressure of the rust and the crevice corrosion had blown a half-inch hole in the side.
The moral is that if your boat has been in saltwater over a year, you need to get your wires inspected. It cannot be done from the deck. Only with a magnifying glass and close in will you see the true extent of the damage.
My dockmate, Jon Siewers, is a long-time sailor and retired Navy Captain who flew helicopters just about anywhere you can touch on a globe. Since Micky has to drive to Marathon to get us back to Boca Chica, she can't come along.
The reason for the trip is to replace all the stainless (a laughable misnomer in the tropical saltwater world) steel wires that hold the mast up and transfer the considerable forces the wind puts on my 5-ton boat into its hull. Most land folks never really feel the force of the wind. Other than an occasional buffeting of their cars, the wind just blows a few leaves around. Pulling a 10,000 pound sailboat through the water requires a 30 horsepower engine just to get to 5.5 knots and we regularly run over 6 knots under sail. Yes, it is faster to sail!
So strength and light weight are needed to hold up the mast. The mast itself is a strong aluminum extrusion and altogether weighs around 250 pounds. Most of the rigging wires are the diameter of my little finger.
Saltwater corrodes everything and when it gets into the small cups that the wire is crimped into, it forms a very weak battery that over years transfers the protective nickel and chromium out of the wires and results in rust. Rust weakens the metal not only on the surface, but "bone deep" also.
I had the experts from Keys Rigging inspect and they were alarmed enough at the condition of my 30 year-old rig to refuse to climb to the top and warn me to not sail the boat. They also ran my jib halyard to the deck parallel to the starboard shroud lines and used the main halyard to take some strain off the backstay.
The trip east to Marathon was turning out to be much rougher than expected. A sailboat without her sails up does not have the higher center of effort and "punch" into the waves, being driven by her propeller below the water. TANGO had an uncomfortable motion that was working the rig harder than we wanted while crippled.
Thanks to current and wind we could only manage around 4 knots across the ground, and with the waves on the nose the boat would occasionally pound on hard and almost stop. As a result, the 35 mile trip took 8 and a half hours instead of the 7 hours the boat was capable of.
Jon and I took turns watching out for crab pots and monitoring the autopilot as it did a sloppy job in the seas we had. At the west end of the Seven Mile Bridge the current from the Florida Bay exits into the Atlantic resulting in a confused wave action at lowering tide due to shallow water. We caught an odd wave and heard a noise like a slamming door that we both interpreted at coming from below. I thought that the head door had slammed shut. Then we found the windex lying on deck and looks up to see the starboard upper shroud had parted at the upper spreader and the mast was relying on the jib halyard to stay in column.
Keys Rigging and Curt Johnson were dead right about the rig! We made it in to the calm waters of the lee side of Knight's Key and motored into the slip with my wife, Micky, handling the lines.
The next day, we couldn't get back up to the boat until after we had moved the motorhome into full hookups on the water in Sigsbee Park. First-world problem! By the time we arrived, the crane was there and the mast was rigged for pickup.
When the mast was laid across two saw horses, the extent of the shroud failure was shocking. It looked like the wire barrel had exploded separating from the eye fitting. The wire was still firmly crimped into the barrel, but the pressure of the rust and the crevice corrosion had blown a half-inch hole in the side.
The moral is that if your boat has been in saltwater over a year, you need to get your wires inspected. It cannot be done from the deck. Only with a magnifying glass and close in will you see the true extent of the damage.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
The long, sad trip home.
Monday, March 23, 2015, we set out for home under some stress. My baby sister had been fighting an increasingly desperate fight against the effects of cigarette smoking. You will notice that I don't cite the lung cancer or COPD as the diseases, but rather the addiction to cigarettes that her entire family indulges in. Robyn Lenora Anne Salvatore Hobbs was legally my half-sister, but we disagreed and there was no way to separate our family in that way.
Robyn was diagnosed with small-cell lung cancer 5 years ago, had a large portion of one lung removed and still continued to smoke. Instead of recognizing that she had managed a close escape from harm, she became increasingly and stridently hyper-religious. In the mind of my sister and her family the science behind had diseases and the statistics that indicated a real need to conserve her ability to process oxygen and not nicotine, was completely negated by her reliance on a "Jesus take the wheel" miracle.
Reports from her husband had caused me to fear that she would die at home in a chaotic, screaming paroxysm of attempted CPR and the subsequent destruction of her frail chest. The family and she had refused to turn to the services of hospice, because of their abject refusal to cope with reality. I finally convinced her husband Ricky, worn out from care and panic to take her to a hospital believing that at least there, she could die with some dignity.
My surviving brother Bobby let me know how dire the situation really was.
Micky and I had to put our motorhome in "vacation storage" on Sigsbee Park and start our drive home at 9 am. Even though we are able to swap drivers, the trip is 13 hours of driving with 3 of them in the Keys. That Monday was plagued with slow-downs in the Keys. Essentially US1 is a two-lane 45 MPH road 130 miles long. Any mishap that blocks the road or even a lane results in soul-sucking delays and stoppages. We avoided the worst of it, but the trip through the Keys, although spectacularly colorful, was longer than normal. At Fort Lauderdale, we rain into the rain that would plague us all the way home. We rolled into Augusta at 11:30 that night and went straight to the hospital and a jarring scene.
Arrayed outside the door was my sister's family smoking. I held off comment and went in to see her.
Robyn had wasted from the last round of chemotherapy to a skeletal 85 pounds. Her hair was a just a fuzzy cover on her skull and her skin was blackened and parchment-thin. Gasping for each breath with a fish-like urgency she was a pitiful and heart-wrenching sight.
Half-lying on the bed were her grand-daughter Kolby and my niece Rachael.
Robyn acknowledged my presence, and stayed by her side for a while telling her in a soothing voice that I was there, loved her, and would take care of her while stroking her swollen, but manicured hand.
Outside the room, I pulled Ricky aside and with the loving help of my wife let him know that he needed to arrange for home hospice and to take her home so that she could pass in a much more comfortable and soothing place.
The next day, the transfer was made. My visit at their home showed Robyn had already lost the ability to sense my presence or to acknowledge it. The hospice nurse was being badgered with unrealistic requests from my youngest niece. I understand her desperation, but it pointed again to the lack of a grasp of reality.
That night, as I expected, she stopped breathing and died.
I have seen my share of death. It is never cinematic. No grand pronouncements or bright glowing lights, just prosaic, nasty death. My sister just wore herself out trying to do a function that doesn't even require conscious thought. Years of punishing chemical attacks on her frail body had left her with no reserves in the end. Even after her brain had stopped its higher functions the small portion in the back of it that precedes even the reptilian age demanded that her chest flail in a vain attempt to live. Finally her muscles could not respond to the demands and even that spark faded. That was my sister's death. Harrowing and nasty to behold. Especially gruesome in a woman whose denial of her fate was sharpened into a frantic Facebook scream of prayers to angels and Jesus for a relief that would not come. Such despairing hope! And such a despicable lie in the end!
The family was barely prepared for breakfast, much less the social obligations of a funeral. Ricky hadn't worn his suit for decades. Now it fit his son. No list of final wishes and account numbers with passwords. The power was cut off one day and the gas another during the mourning period. My brother Bobby, a true man, stepped up with those. I took Ricky to get the suit he'd need for the funeral and for his daughter's vow renewal. We met with the funeral home. Platt's on Crawford Avenue has buried my family for at least three generations. Although now located is a truly scary neighborhood with demented black men screaming and dancing into what may have been a dead cell phone, it is where we all grew up. It's numbingly sad that the final gift I could give her was a funeral.
Families are complicated balls of love, anger, exasperation, and sometimes shame. We don't get to choose our families and sometimes help is the worst thing you can do. But in the final tally, your family formed you and you formed them. You can no more leave them than can leave you. My family has a hole in it. It will heal, we will live on and the scar with thicken over the wound to protect us from further hurt. We live.
Robyn was diagnosed with small-cell lung cancer 5 years ago, had a large portion of one lung removed and still continued to smoke. Instead of recognizing that she had managed a close escape from harm, she became increasingly and stridently hyper-religious. In the mind of my sister and her family the science behind had diseases and the statistics that indicated a real need to conserve her ability to process oxygen and not nicotine, was completely negated by her reliance on a "Jesus take the wheel" miracle.
Reports from her husband had caused me to fear that she would die at home in a chaotic, screaming paroxysm of attempted CPR and the subsequent destruction of her frail chest. The family and she had refused to turn to the services of hospice, because of their abject refusal to cope with reality. I finally convinced her husband Ricky, worn out from care and panic to take her to a hospital believing that at least there, she could die with some dignity.
My surviving brother Bobby let me know how dire the situation really was.
Micky and I had to put our motorhome in "vacation storage" on Sigsbee Park and start our drive home at 9 am. Even though we are able to swap drivers, the trip is 13 hours of driving with 3 of them in the Keys. That Monday was plagued with slow-downs in the Keys. Essentially US1 is a two-lane 45 MPH road 130 miles long. Any mishap that blocks the road or even a lane results in soul-sucking delays and stoppages. We avoided the worst of it, but the trip through the Keys, although spectacularly colorful, was longer than normal. At Fort Lauderdale, we rain into the rain that would plague us all the way home. We rolled into Augusta at 11:30 that night and went straight to the hospital and a jarring scene.
Arrayed outside the door was my sister's family smoking. I held off comment and went in to see her.
Robyn had wasted from the last round of chemotherapy to a skeletal 85 pounds. Her hair was a just a fuzzy cover on her skull and her skin was blackened and parchment-thin. Gasping for each breath with a fish-like urgency she was a pitiful and heart-wrenching sight.
Half-lying on the bed were her grand-daughter Kolby and my niece Rachael.
Robyn acknowledged my presence, and stayed by her side for a while telling her in a soothing voice that I was there, loved her, and would take care of her while stroking her swollen, but manicured hand.
Outside the room, I pulled Ricky aside and with the loving help of my wife let him know that he needed to arrange for home hospice and to take her home so that she could pass in a much more comfortable and soothing place.
The next day, the transfer was made. My visit at their home showed Robyn had already lost the ability to sense my presence or to acknowledge it. The hospice nurse was being badgered with unrealistic requests from my youngest niece. I understand her desperation, but it pointed again to the lack of a grasp of reality.
That night, as I expected, she stopped breathing and died.
I have seen my share of death. It is never cinematic. No grand pronouncements or bright glowing lights, just prosaic, nasty death. My sister just wore herself out trying to do a function that doesn't even require conscious thought. Years of punishing chemical attacks on her frail body had left her with no reserves in the end. Even after her brain had stopped its higher functions the small portion in the back of it that precedes even the reptilian age demanded that her chest flail in a vain attempt to live. Finally her muscles could not respond to the demands and even that spark faded. That was my sister's death. Harrowing and nasty to behold. Especially gruesome in a woman whose denial of her fate was sharpened into a frantic Facebook scream of prayers to angels and Jesus for a relief that would not come. Such despairing hope! And such a despicable lie in the end!
The family was barely prepared for breakfast, much less the social obligations of a funeral. Ricky hadn't worn his suit for decades. Now it fit his son. No list of final wishes and account numbers with passwords. The power was cut off one day and the gas another during the mourning period. My brother Bobby, a true man, stepped up with those. I took Ricky to get the suit he'd need for the funeral and for his daughter's vow renewal. We met with the funeral home. Platt's on Crawford Avenue has buried my family for at least three generations. Although now located is a truly scary neighborhood with demented black men screaming and dancing into what may have been a dead cell phone, it is where we all grew up. It's numbingly sad that the final gift I could give her was a funeral.
Families are complicated balls of love, anger, exasperation, and sometimes shame. We don't get to choose our families and sometimes help is the worst thing you can do. But in the final tally, your family formed you and you formed them. You can no more leave them than can leave you. My family has a hole in it. It will heal, we will live on and the scar with thicken over the wound to protect us from further hurt. We live.
Sea Trials on "Island Princess"
Mark Tobin couldn't do the sea trials until Sunday, March 22. We were originally scheduled to drive home that day, but agreed to delay to accommodate him.
Sunday was clear, calm seas and almost no wind. A great day to inspect sails, even if we couldn't use them.
Mark was there on time, and we motored out the long, narrow channel from Boca Chica. The boat did fine, although the Raymarine RC435 Chartplotter is nearly useless in the sun. Once clear of the
channel, we launched and inspected the furling main and headsails. No noted problems other than age and as I expected them to appear.
My next trick was to hard-over the steering and listen for groans from below, or looseness in the rigging and to get a rough idea of the heeling moment of the boat. On my 31 and 34 this results in a very noticeable heel and a quick turn. We call the turn a "doughnut" as it appears to make a "hole" in the water. The 36 has much less heel than the other two boats.
The next evolution gave Mark some concern, as I would not have normally operated my boat this way either, but sea trials are extreme events. I tasked with a 5-minute wide-open-throttle (WOT) run in forward gear. The purpose of the run is to determine if the boat has the appropriately sized propeller and what the "emergency" forward speed is The boat did 6.6 knots per the GPS. Since we were running easterly there may have been some current, but way under a knot. The 3850 RPM makes me think she's slightly "under-propped" and could use a bit more pitch, but there was no smoke and the boat handles well.
The 80% WOT run in reverse was also questioned. I explained to Mark that going into a transient slip at Cooper River Marina, Charleston or Skull Creek in Hilton Head may require the ability to stop and maneuver against a 2-3 knot foul current. IP handled it well at 2950 RPM and 3 knots during that 5 minute run.
The next most important item on the 36 for me was the windlass and anchoring systems. I asked Mark to drop and retrieve around 20-25 feet of chain in the channel to check the operation. The down part was as expected, although it sounded a lot noisier than I remembered. Retrieval was a total fail and explained all the noise. The gearbox was trashed. Mark had said that the boat was used in charter and of course the nimrods would use the windlass to pull the boat over the anchor rather than motor ahead and use the windlass to just retrieve chain and anchor. I understood, but the windlass is a discontinued Simpson-Lawrence with very little support. Additionally, to accommodate the Hunter's lack of a properly-shaped chain locker with at least some chain fall, the windlass was modified to become a "pickle-fork" design with the chain exiting in the plane of the gypsy forward and sliding down a board.
Back at dock, Mark acknowledged the failure and we gave him a check for the deposit contingent on repair of the windlass.
If the windlass can't be fixed or replaced, I will walk away from the boat. Island Princess is a nice-looking boat with appropriate wear and tear for her age, but since there are 21 H36's for sale east of Texas, I do not intend to buy her with a major operational failure at any price. Life is too short.
Sunday was clear, calm seas and almost no wind. A great day to inspect sails, even if we couldn't use them.
Mark was there on time, and we motored out the long, narrow channel from Boca Chica. The boat did fine, although the Raymarine RC435 Chartplotter is nearly useless in the sun. Once clear of the
channel, we launched and inspected the furling main and headsails. No noted problems other than age and as I expected them to appear.
My next trick was to hard-over the steering and listen for groans from below, or looseness in the rigging and to get a rough idea of the heeling moment of the boat. On my 31 and 34 this results in a very noticeable heel and a quick turn. We call the turn a "doughnut" as it appears to make a "hole" in the water. The 36 has much less heel than the other two boats.
The next evolution gave Mark some concern, as I would not have normally operated my boat this way either, but sea trials are extreme events. I tasked with a 5-minute wide-open-throttle (WOT) run in forward gear. The purpose of the run is to determine if the boat has the appropriately sized propeller and what the "emergency" forward speed is The boat did 6.6 knots per the GPS. Since we were running easterly there may have been some current, but way under a knot. The 3850 RPM makes me think she's slightly "under-propped" and could use a bit more pitch, but there was no smoke and the boat handles well.
The 80% WOT run in reverse was also questioned. I explained to Mark that going into a transient slip at Cooper River Marina, Charleston or Skull Creek in Hilton Head may require the ability to stop and maneuver against a 2-3 knot foul current. IP handled it well at 2950 RPM and 3 knots during that 5 minute run.
The next most important item on the 36 for me was the windlass and anchoring systems. I asked Mark to drop and retrieve around 20-25 feet of chain in the channel to check the operation. The down part was as expected, although it sounded a lot noisier than I remembered. Retrieval was a total fail and explained all the noise. The gearbox was trashed. Mark had said that the boat was used in charter and of course the nimrods would use the windlass to pull the boat over the anchor rather than motor ahead and use the windlass to just retrieve chain and anchor. I understood, but the windlass is a discontinued Simpson-Lawrence with very little support. Additionally, to accommodate the Hunter's lack of a properly-shaped chain locker with at least some chain fall, the windlass was modified to become a "pickle-fork" design with the chain exiting in the plane of the gypsy forward and sliding down a board.
Back at dock, Mark acknowledged the failure and we gave him a check for the deposit contingent on repair of the windlass.
If the windlass can't be fixed or replaced, I will walk away from the boat. Island Princess is a nice-looking boat with appropriate wear and tear for her age, but since there are 21 H36's for sale east of Texas, I do not intend to buy her with a major operational failure at any price. Life is too short.
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