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.