Nepenthe

San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico anchorage

Olympia is a beautiful place with beautiful people, a nice place with a diverse population.  But the winters suck.  For at least six months of the year it is 40 degrees and drizzling.  When we remember the glorious winters we spent in Mexico aboard Traveler and compare that to our Olympia winters we thought, "What are we thinking?  We should be in Mexico."  But how can we be in Mexico in the winter on our limited budget?  We are enjoying having Traveler here in Olympia and she's finally paying for her keep for once with our summer sailboat charter income. Can't take her all the way to Mexico and back each year.  Hmmm, maybe if we had a second boat in Mexico.  That's the ticket!  But how?

1.  We could partner with another couple and split the costs:   It would have to be a strong relationship to survive all the unknowns.  And who would be in charge?  Na... Forget that one.

2.  We could take out a loan:  No way.  That's playing into the hands of the MAN and the insurance companies.

3.  We could search for a bargain boat and settle for something a little less than S/V Traveler:  Good idea.

I sat in our little, dreary mini-kitchen and started a boat search Craigslist and Yacht World:

-Year:  1975 to 1990

-Length: 35 to 45 ft. 

-Price $15k to $30K

- Location:  Washington, Oregon, California, Mexico

What other prerequisites?  Well, it has to have standing headroom and sleeping room for me, at 6 ft 2 inches.  And it has to be a solid, well built boat that we can be proud of in a traditional sense.  

It took me two months to compile a list of boats that fit our requirements and I include that list here:
Scott's Sailboat List 

I talked to someone with a Downeaster 38 that sounded promising.  At the time it was too far away and "Covid" was keeping us from traveling.

There was a Hunter Cherubini in California and an Islander Freeport 36 in Texas.  There was the occasional Morgan Out Island 41,but if priced right, it was a mess. Pearsons galore but I wasn't sure about those as to the standing headroom.  Union Polaris, Hans Christian, Mariner Polaris, Tayana, all very similar but usually too pricey for me. And a ton of Yankee Clippers, CTs, Formosa, Sea Wolf 41s, all the same mold but usually a little long in the tooth and a major refit project. 

And then, while perusing the "What's Up, San Carlos" online magazine, I found a Pan Oceanic 38 for sale by owner.  "What's Up, San Carlos" is a local online magazine for the ex-patriot little town a day's drive south of Nogales, Arizona.  It's a retirement and boating community full of gringos from the US and Canada.  A couple from BC, Canada had this boat up for sale with a few pictures and a short description.  I began an online search to find out more about this boat.  

It was designed by Ted Brewer. Ted designed the Aloha, Brewer, Cape North, Goderich, Mariner, Morgan, Oceanic, Three Seas, and Whidby sailboat lines to name a few.  He's known for designing heavy built, ocean cruising vessels.  His Pan Oceanic 46s number about 50 hulls shipped, and about 15 of the Pan Oceanic 43s and only 6 to 10 of the Pan Oceanic 38s.   What we had there in San Carlos was a limited version of an ocean crossing designed vessel that had been shortened to 38 feet.  That pedigree was enough to make us want to go see the boat.

Sadly, we were in the depths of a pandemic.  But fortunately, I was able to score an early vaccine treatment. ( My young wife, unfortunately, could not...) I contacted the owners and made a tentative offer pursuant to inspection.  Then, I got online and started searching for airline deals to get me from Seatac to San Carlos.  By pushing the calendar a month out, I found a cheap flight and booked it along with a rental car and an Air BnB.  All masked up and nervous I boarded a crowded American Airlines flight at Seatac. Thank goodness I upgraded to a seat at the emergency exit so I had some legroom and space away from all the other passengers. 

No social distancing here

At Phoenix the crowd stormed the door and I sat waiting behind my mask as everyone mobbed their way off the plane.  I caught a second AA flight to Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico.  There, in the airport, everyone was very polite and went to great extremes to socially distance and be safe.  My little rental car was waiting and I drove south down highway 15 towards San Carlos, 139 KM of straight, flat, Sonoran desert road.  I bought a Bohemia beer at the OXXO and rocketed south with the mariachi  music blaring.  

On the road

In San Carlos I found my "romantic" Palapa AirBnB and did the self-check in.  Later at the Super LEY I bought provisions for my three day, two night stay.  The next morning I met a friend of the owner at the San Carlos Marina Seca.  Marina Seca means Dry Marina.   Charles and I got through the gate at the storage yard and found the Pan Oeanic 38 named Nepenthe.

Nepenthe:  A fictional drug described in Homer's Odyssey as banishing grief or trouble from a person's mind.

Kind of a strange name, but whatever...

One thing that struck me was the high freeboard.  Freeboard:  The distance between the waterline and the main deck. 

 She towered overhead, with a huge hull, rudder, and keel and from below she looked like a 38 foot, short, fat, round stern bathtub. I was in love.  This was not your sleek, fleet of foot, cruiser/racer.  This was a sturdy, stumpy force to be reckoned with; Galaxy Class star ship, capable of crossing oceans and protecting its mariners from every source of calamity.

Normally, when a boat is sold, she is moved from the protected storage yard to the work yard where the prospective owner can have her surveyed and test out all the systems, hook up the batteries and even run the engine, using a water hose to provide cooling water.  Then she is moved to the water for sea trials.  We were skipping all that and thus saving all the money spent on a surveyor and yard charges for moving the boat from storage to the yard to the water and back.  Those costs could mount up to $1500 to be paid out of my pocket.  I foolishly chose to do my own inspection and forgo the sea trial.  Smart eh? (fingers crossed)

Anyhow, she seems like a sturdy craft.  Her teak decks look great.  All the teak topsides have Cetol coating on the wood, not the most beautiful finish, but one that protects the wood.   The original owner back in 1987 bought her in the Philippines and sailed her to Turkey and had teak decks installed, glueing them down instead of using screws.  This is a bonus.  Most teak decks are screwed down and have hundreds of little screw holes in the fiberglass that eventually start to leak. This deck has no reason to leak, nor did I see any signs of leakage below.  The engine (a 50 HP Isuzu) had been rebuilt recently by our Mexico friend Omar who installed our Beta engine in Traveler a few years ago.  I called Omar and he vouched for the reliability of the engine.   

We found two 8-D batteries with quite enough capacity to power the systems and their voltage checked out, so I think they will last the summer heat until we get there to recharge them. The refrigerator compressor looks good but time will tell.  

The boat has a smallish cockpit with steering pedestal. Forward of that is a pilot house with a second wheel and instruments so you can drive from inside. Then down a few steps is the galley, head, settee area and a vee berth.  For a 38 foot boat, there is a lot of livable space.  The galley has a big refrigerator and gimbaled stove.  I measured the berths and headroom to make sure that I fit and, sure enough, I do.

The sails are packed into their bags and stowed away but their fabric looks good and there is a lot of gear stowed in the many cabinets and lockers.  She's built like a brick shxt house with room to store tons of provisions and many cases of wine.... and accordions and ukuleles.

Outside, the hull looks solid with some new thru-hull fittings.  The cutaway fin keel is much like the one on Traveler with a skeg hung rudder just aft of the propeller. Just forward of the pilot house is a huge flush deck running to the bow with room to lounge about and stow a dinghy on passages.  Forward is an electric windlass with a heavy CQR anchor and lots of rusty chain. 

I spent another night in my romantic palapa and sent lots of pictures to Connie back in Olympia.  We decided to make the deal.  The next day I found a doctor to give me a 'Covid' test so I could get back into the US, and another doctor to prescribe some antibiotics I'd been having a problem getting in Olympia.  For some reason the antibiotic I take for my skin problem (Rosacea) costs $125 in Olympia but $25 in Mexico.  

I then bought some tacos carnitas at a stand, drove back to Hermosillo, and rented a room at the IBIS hotel.  Everything  was locked down because of the Coronavirus, but I finally found a place to buy a sandwich.So far I had avoided any restaurants and had masked myself whenever in public. 

Returning the rental car, I caught a Volaris flight to Guadalajara where I had a long layover before finding my Volaris flight to Seattle.  I noted that when the Volaris flights arrived at the airport, the passengers waited patiently in their seats for the flight attendants to release everyone five rows at a time. It was all orderly and seemed like the safe thing to do to maintain the little distancing available on a full flight.  And again, on this flight, I scored the emergency exit seat so as to have space and leg room. 

Connie met me at the airport with a jar of wine and a dinner snack and we talked excitedly about our upcoming purchase of a Pan Oceanic 38.

Asking price: $29,900.  I made an offer of $26,000. They countered at $28,000. I accepted.  We are so jazzed!

We own the boat now.  It sits in the San Carlos Marina Seca waiting for us to show up in October.  In the meantime we are preparing a load of boat supplies to bring along. We've got hoses, clamps, tools, wiring, rope, instruments, and all sorts of stuff.   There is a new Achilles LEX-96 hypalon dinghy and an ePropulsion Spirit 1 Plus 1KW electric outboard ready to load in the pickup truck.  We have two new Tower Yachtsman paddleboards ready to go.  

This weekend during the "heat dome" emergency I'll be spending time ordering stainless steel tubing and fittings to take to Mexico to make a bimini stand that will hold two new solar panels that will connect with a new solar converter.  I'm shopping for an inverter to bring along to provide 110 volt power for cell phones and the laptop. 

It is our hope to leave here in October to make our way south with a few stops, bringing the little Scamp trailer along with the truck full of parts and provisions.  In San Carlos we'll meet up with our friend Leo who has an AirBnB reserved where we can enjoy the comforts of a home while working on the new boat getting the refit done. He is excited about joining us on our next big adventure costal cruising!  We hope to splash in November and head south down the Sea of Cortez to many lovely anchorages where we have good memories of clear warm water, sandy beaches and good friends. Ain't life grand?

Wanna come visit?

My romantic palapa

Provisions

 

 

 

 

 

Deferred Maintenance on Traveler

On a wet, chilly day in January, I visited the boat and got a vibe from her that it was about time she got some TLC.  There were multiple deferred maintenance projects that had been put on the back burner.  Time to get to work!                                           --- Warning: This article is full of boat tech stuff ------

Wiring: 

A few years ago I had Jason from Aloft Marine aboard to install a new windlass. He saw some of the wiring in the battery compartment and said, "You really should do something about that." A few months ago I had Meredith Anderson, our diesel mechanic, aboard to check my Beta / Kubota diesel and she saw a corroded bus bar and covered her eyes. "I don't want to see that!"

After that abuse, I decided to take action.

In February I pulled up the floorboards, got out my yellow legal pad and set about drawing how the batteries connect to the starter and the alternator.  I traced the shore charging circuit and the solar array charging circuit.  I found multiple buss bars for both positive and negative with a shunt to track amps in and out.  There are also the big power users, the windlass and the refrigerator.  Measuring the wires with my digital calipers, I found that most of the large power wires are 1 or 1/0 AWG.  After measuring all the runs and figuring out what size terminals they needed I went online and ordered all the parts. Of course, being me, a computer nerd, I used a spreadsheet to track the 40 connectors on 20 fat wires, with varying wire thicknesses and connector hole sizes.  Once I got the deliveries, it was really fun making new cables with my new heavy duty crimper then shrinking insulation on the connections.  

After installing the big stuff, I did some rearranging of the system and tracked down a couple of circuits in the ceiling where lights and fans were starting to get a little frisky.  Those small wires are much easier to deal with than the big stuff, but still require quality connectors and crimping tools.  By the time all the electric work was half done, the boat was totally torn apart with ceiling panels out, floorboards up, cabinet doors removed and all manner of tools, parts and junk littering every available flat surface.  90 days later it was all back together and all working like it is supposed to work, all except that one ceiling light switch that suddenly went on the fritz. 

While removing ceiling panels we restarted our "replace the headliner fabric" project.  Getting fabric swatches from Seattle Fabric we found a match and ordered a few yards, then used contact cement to put the new marine vinyl on the ceiling panels. 

Diesel Tank Replacement:

During this same period we decided to replace our diesel tanks...again.  Years ago, when we first tried to cross the Pacific Ocean, the port side black iron diesel tank split and we were forced to return to port at San Jose del Cabo.  That year, in Guaymas Mexico, I had two new tanks built of plastic and those worked well the next year as we completed our Pacific crossings.  However, last year, one of those plastic tanks split a seam and spilled diesel into the bilge.  That story is not for the faint of heart, nor shall I address the details here.  I figured that it was about time to do the job right.

We spent a few days hauling out all the gear stowed in the two cockpit lockers and the lazerette.  Somehow, every time we had a full dock cart the tide was out and the ramp was at a 30 degree angle.  Puuuuush....  I rearranged the shop at home to make room for loads of rope, anchors, buckets, and storage containers.  Dropping down into the various lockers, screw gun and socket set in hand, I disassembled the wood partitions, exposing the two 60 gallon plastic tanks that sit directly under the cockpit sole.

Next, I disconnected the fuel line in the engine compartment, just downstream of the little electric pump that I put in a few years ago to make priming the system easier.  It took four diesel fuel jugs to hold the fuel from the starboard tank.  The port tank, I'd already emptied last year.  Of course, the tide was out when I tried to push a cart with 70 pounds of diesel up the ramp.  Of course, I spilled a little into the cart, and on my clothes.  After washing the cart I brought up another 70 pounds of fuel.  

Disconnecting the supply, return, fill, and vent hoses, I set about removing the frames that hold the tanks in place. Connie arrived in her dungarees and we set about scooting the starboard tank up and away from the center line, tying it to starboard with some line. I had to drill some holes in the tank to pass through some small line so as to get handholds in the right places.  We also plugged the threaded holes in the top of the tank so as not to spill any leftover fuel. 

We freed the port tank and passed it through the special door into the aft cabin.  See how this was done in a  post from December 2015:  http://traveleratsea.blogspot.com/2015/12/home-at-last.html .  And again, I thank Stan Huntingford, the designer of our boat, for making it possible to remove the fuel tanks without having to destroy any bulkheads or woodwork.  

Up the steep ramp we pushed our way to the pickup truck, then returned for the starboard tank and finagled it out of the vessel.  Of course, in the process of getting the tanks out, we spilled a little diesel on ourselves, the cart, and the pickup truck. And again, I had a dock cart to clean.   I must say, in my defense, not one drop of diesel fuel went into the waters of Budd Inlet.  

Back at the slip, our dear traveler looked sad with her stern in the air, a full four inches above the waterline. I set about cleaning the bilge and inside the hull throughout the rear lockers, everything aft of the cabin.  Simple green and diesel smell... yum.  Using a small vacuum, I removed multiple gallons of stinky bilge water and brought it home.  Then I rinsed again, and again.  

When I called the work yard and asked about how to dispose of bilge water that had a slight smell of diesel residue they had no good answer.  Once at home, I laid a diesel fuel absorbent pad on the surface to draw off any sheen then started wandering around my yard trying to figure out where to dump my five gallons of tainted water.  

"Get out of here with those stinky clothes!"  Connie banished me from the house.  I reeked from diesel smell.  Leaving my clothing on the door stoop, I jumped into the shower to try to get the smell off my body, out of my hair, and from under the fingernails.  After washing my clothing twice and accomplishing nothing other than stinking up the washer, I finally just chucked my work clothes into the trash can.

After removing the tanks from the pickup truck and power washing the pickup truck bed, we measured the tanks and I started calling around to find someone to replicate them in aluminum.  Back at the boat, I donned a respirator and painted the entire inside of the back of the boat from deck to bilge with a oil based enamel.  Shiny!  From there on out, instead of getting smacked with a strong diesel smell, you got smacked with a strong enamel paint smell when stepping aboard.  I'm reminded of the story in The Cat in a Hat Comes Back where they can't get rid of the pink ring in the bathtub.  That's how the diesel smell was to me.

Back at home, in the shop, I cleaned up all the partition boards that I'd removed from the lockers and put a few coats of enamel on those as well.  

Meanwhile, the two new aluminum fuel tanks took five weeks for Coastline to weld up for me.  The tanks look great and have the necessary pressure testing procedures done.  All in all, I'm pleased with the quality of work at Coastline.  However, the fittings are not what I asked for, and they put in two floats for fuel gauges that I didn't ask for.  In addition, nobody I dealt with there ever wore a mask when meeting with me.  ( note: future readers, this is in the time of Covid. ) 

Back in Olympia, we threw the two plastic tanks into the marina dumpster and brought the new tanks down the steep ramp to Traveler.  They went into the boat almost as easy as they came out and soon I was siphoning my 140 pounds (20 gallons) of diesel back into the tanks. Getting the hoses onto the new bibs was difficult as the rubber had hardened and didn't want to stretch.  The heat gun helped. New hose clamps all around, 20 in all, gave me the confidence to keep that pink ring out of the bathtub. It took a good ten minutes for the electric priming fuel pump to clear the lines of air but soon, the engine started and we were ready to go on to the next project.  

Autopilot:

Our autopilot head had gone on the fritz two years ago and I never got around to replacing it.  In the meantime the company who made the Alpha 4404 closed their doors so the option of just buying a new Alpha head was gone.  I researched a few other models and found that Scanmar has a line of Pelagic autopilots that would work with my existing linear drive and clutch.  It was pretty straightforward mounting the control head in the cockpit and the brain in the cockpit locker and doing the wiring connections.  Now we have a new autopilot to figure out.  On our first outing, she yawed back and forth so I think I'll need to do some fine tuning.

Varnish:

Since the cabin top varnishing job of last summer went so well, Connie decided she'd varnish all the teak in the cockpit.  Wash, strip, sand, varnish.   Then sand and varnish again.  Seven coats took an entire month.  But now it looks wonderful, just in time for our charter season to get cranking.

 Transmission:

This one was a surprise.  After changing out the transmission fluid we took a spin around Budd Inlet.  When engaging the forward gear, the transmission jerked a couple of times when we accelerated the engine from idle speed.  This happened twice and we began to worry about the transmission going out on us mid-charter.  After some consults, I decided I would remove the tranny and have someone look at it.  The go-to marine transmission shop is Harbor Marine in Everett.  In a call to them, I found that my little ZF 15M was not something they were interested in rebuilding.  "Just buy a new one."

I jumped into the truck and drove two hours to Everett to dump two thousand dollars on a new ZF 15M.  Back on Traveler, I set out trying to remove the old unit, disconnecting and removing the control cable and bracket and loosening the six bolts on the forward side of the tranny and the four bolts on the prop shaft coupling.  After that knuckle busting, back aching, lie on the floor with my hands in the bilge, effort I realized that I was not up to the physical effort of pulling that tranny out by myself.   Miraculously, I found a mechanic ( In high season!) to come aboard. I cannot reveal the identity of this person because all marine mechanics have a huge backlog of work right now at the beginning of the season.  Sneaking me to the front of the line could hurt some feelings.  We wouldn't want to do that now would we? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, kind mechanic person.

Getting ready for the professional to come work on my boat, I felt like I do before visiting the dentist.  I usually spend a couple of days vigorously brushing and flossing so as not to look like a slacker.  Likewise, I looked around the engine compartment and cleaned up loose ends and replaced a dozen rusty hose clamps on the verge of failure.

My guy/gal/they arrived and went to work.  He/she/they loosened the dripless collar and shoved the prop shaft aft, then re-secured the collar to stop the volumes of water rushing into the bilge. The bilge pump clicked on just like it is supposed to and I'm proud that there was no oil sheen on the water outside.  Pulling the shaft back gave us about six inches of clearance to pull the tranny off the engine.  BAM! She was out.  Thank you, person with strong arms and hands, ( who asked to remain anonymous.)

Soon we had the new tranny ready and while the mechanic positioned the unit in place, I was able to lie on top of the engine and sighting down the gap between engine and transmission, guide the spline into the plate on the flywheel. Lots of grunting and then it slid into place.  An hour later, we were operational. What a sigh of relief.  All in all, we only lost five days on the project and cancelled just one charter. 

Denouement:   noun    The final part of a play, movie, or narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved.

With the pandemic coming to some sort of resolution, people are starting to call and make reservations for us to take them out on the water. We've got quite a few on the books for June, July, and August and it's starting to look like we'll have a record summer.  That's good.  We need the money because..... we just pulled the trigger and bought another boat.

I am not kidding.  

This one is in San Carlos, Mexico.  She's a sweetheart and a sweet deal.  The question is.... what's the catch?  Stay tuned.