More New

After Ryuho Yamada Sensei , Zen shiatsu teacher and healer, died in 2003, Hollis DeLancy bought his 1986 Toyota Corolla All-Trak, from Ryuho's wife, Mayumi (so she could return to Japan). Since she did not really need another car, she gave it to me. It was a bit of a problem from the beginning because it often failed to start (the car came with a small battery charger), and I went through a series of repairs, replacing the alternator and starter, until one smart mechanic replaced the ignition switch and it worked perfectly. The car served me well, especially during torrential winter rains when I could flip it into four-wheel drive and safely negotiate water and mud.

Moving to Florida, I had to pay more than five hundred dollars to register it! I should have sent it to Pull-A-Part right then, but I had the money and lacked the sense. I used it well for several years until it was stolen and ended up in Kingman, Arizona. Sara Smith rescued it and her Santa Cruz mechanic, Pedro, put it back into shape. Curiously, though, somewhere in its journey, its nice, new, 100 amp-hour battery, got switched to an older, 60 amp-hour model.
Last year, before I sailed off to Fort Meyers, the car failed to start reliably. Sometimes it would, sometimes it wouldn't, not a desirable behavior in a car. I found that if I could get the battery voltage up to about 12.8 volts (higher than a resting, fully charged battery), it always started, indicating a big resistance in the starting circuit. I attempted to check the cable connection, but there is so much metal back where the starter lives, I could not even see the starter motor. I abandoned the car and sailed away!
Well, now daughter, Lisa, and son-in-law, Andrew, are moving back to Tallahassee, I need a car again as there is no public transportation to the Forgotten Coast. I also had to miss a meeting of the Franklin County Democratic Party Committee because I could not get to Carabelle--I thought about taking the boat, but that would mean six hours on the engine because there is seldom any fair wind in the Waterway, or ride my bike, but that would probably be beyond my ability. And, Tallahassee is just out of reach entirely!

1986 Toyota Corolla Ignition Switch

So, I guessed that the starting problem was once again due to a faulty switch and dove in. It took me hours to remove all the old, junky plastic to get the switch and diagnose it was indeed the problem--I jumped the connection between the hot plug and the starter plug and the engine turned right over, then I had to crawl under the steering column to unscrew it. I took it apart and attempted to clean the connections, but when I put it back together, it would not work at all. So much for repair! An eBay seller had a new switch for $35 and it is on its way.

I finished painting the quarterberth and other places while I was at it. Hopefully, the little flecks of white paint are banished from my cabin. It looks good, too, all clean.


I also decided to add a shelf for my computer, printer, etc, and provide a secure place to store charts. So, I taped off a section (blue in the photo) to provide a foundation for fiberglass. After the new paint dried, I ground off all the old gel-coat and paint right down to the fiberglass of the hull. Then, I fashioned a 1"x3" board to glass in to the hull and provide a ledger to support the shelf. In order to make it conform to the hull shape, I sawed about fifty kerfs across the width of the board, down to about 3/8". I prepared means to hold the board in place and glassed it in.

My shelf job is not perfect, completely due to my inexperience as a "glass-man". Neighbor Mike Young, a real glass-man, advised me, but the technique is tricky. It is necessary to add just the right amount of hardener to the resin--too little will cause the resin to set up slowly, too much will cause the resin to set up too quickly and be brittle, to boot. I did both. The first batch fastened the board to the hull and it set up too quick. The second batch wrapped the wood and fastened to the hull below the board and after two days, it is still tacky. Nevertheless, the shelf looks good.

When the resin finally cures, I can use the last of my cabin paint to touch up, then I get my cabin back! I am so tired of typing on my dining table. But, I believe the result will have been worth the travail: a bright, clean quarterberth, a bright, clean cabin, and a sturdy shelf to keep my laptop secure at sea.

New Tiller

On the voyage to Fort Myers, we got stuck in the mud heading into a little marina on the side of the Inter-coastal Waterway (ICW) and got the tiller broke off at the rudder post due to a misplaced tow rope and a too small tow boat. I fixed the tiller by sawing off the broken end and drilling a new hole, but the resulting tiller was too short--not enough leverage and poor steering position--and irremediably broken-- delaminated core. So, back in Apalachicola, I searched the net and found Tillercraft, which seems to be the only custom tiller house left in the US.
Richard, there, after a bit of negotiating the correct shape and size, fixed me up with a beauty. Because of the shape, tillers are hard to photograph, but here are a couple of shots:

So, now the tiller is prettier than the boat! I look forward to my next sail. BTW, I am keeping the old one. I can double as a spare tiller and a spare cudgel, should I need either.

Too pay for the tiller, I had to sell my marine SSB radio. The truth is that I never liked that radio. It was based on channels, i.e. pushing a button got a specific frequency and mode. The trouble was that there were only two channels out of sixty million that I ever used and could remember. To surf the ham spectrum was possible, but required pushing about sixty buttons. I like dials! So, it was more radio than I ever needed. It had one advantage which was its Digital Service feature--a red button that when pushed sent a distress signal all over the world. However, I already have a similar device that works with satellites, much more of a sure thing. So, it was not too hard to see it go to Louisiana.

The radio had a special antenna tuner that I included because it only worked with the ICOM M802 and my next radio will surely be an old Yaesu or Kenwood--solid Japanese ham radios--and their corresponding antenna tuners. [Boat antennas need tuners because they are essentially long wires, not cut to a specific frequency's length]. At any rate, in order to retrieve the tuner, I had almost insurmountable problems. The guy who installed was very small and he drank a lot. So, when he read the instructions to install the tuner as close to the antenna as possible, he did not discriminate between electrical length--the length of the coaxial cable connecting antenna and tuner-- and physical length. So, he mounted it as far back in the stern as he could get, leaving about six feet of extra coax neatly coiled.
I barely even reach the tuner, let alone unscrew it. I managed to unscrew one screw of three, and my friend Marsha, a small person, crawled back in there and unscrewed another. The final screw was stripped, so I tried to lever it out and could not budge. Marsha's husband, Mike, a very, very strong guy, got his crow bar literally ripped it out of the hull (I epoxied all the holes).

The point of the antenna tuner story is that whenever I crawled back there on the quarter berth, I always came out covered with white flecks, paint or gelcoat coming loose. Plus, the new tiller inspires me to get this old boat spiffed up. Here is the quarterberth now:

 The purpose of the quarterberth is to allow an additional sleeping space underneath the starboard lazarette, but it was probably never used thusly. In fact, it is mostly a handy place to stow life jackets, fishing equipment, and other gear. But it is also useful for me to crawl aft and check the transmission oil, tighten the stuffing box, etc.

It should be very clear that my next job to spiff up the boat will be to do a little painting! I am experienced now that over a week I helped my daughter Lisa and son-in-law Andrew repaint their Tallahassee house, so I purchased a quart of very expensive boat cabin paint and UPS delivered it today.

Longings

Mainsail with Full Moon

When I was on the journey from Fort Myers, I felt the calm of the sea, the exhilaration of its power, its steady movement. When I began formal Zen meditation in 1967, one day I realized I had done this kind of meditation before when I was a swimmer in high school, especially when swimming long distance. In fact, I found many life actions that were the same as sitting. Sailing the sea is another place for this different kind of sitting, although I know that sitting sitting is more steady.

Still, I cannot sit anymore due to my failed knees; I suppose I could take up sitting zazen in a chair, but I am so used to the power and intensity given by my lotus seat that I would rather sail!

When the front passed us on the Gulf, the force of the waves on the dinghy's fouled painter against the self-steering gear bent the actuator shaft, the device that connects the wind vane to the water vane and steers the boat. Back in Apalachicola, my good friend Harry, boat mechanic at Scipio Creek Marina, carefully straightened it for me so that I could reattach it. The self-steering gear is good to go.

Another problem surfaced in Carabelle when I refilled the tank. I stopped filling the diesel before it slopped over, but there was still fuel in the hoses, i.e. the tank was completely filled. This caused fuel to leak out of my home-made inspection plate into the bilge and thus, into the whole boat. 

Diesel fumes were particularly noxious in the V-berth as the bilge runs from the engine compartment all the way forward, under the floor boards, forming a kind of pipe that directed the fumes into my bunk! I bought some fuel-capture cloths, tied them to a stick and swabbed out the bilge. By squeezing the cloth, I  pulled most of the diesel out, almost two quarts, and then carried my bucket of dirty fuel to the fuel dump at Gander's BP Oil Dock & Marine Marina, a few hundred yards away.

The cause of the fuel leak was due to the poor quality gasket sealant I had used--it literally dissolved in contact with diesel. I purchased a small tube of high-quality, diesel-resistant Permatex silicon sealant, #85420, and reset the gasket and plate. Hopefully, no more leaks! If the repair works, I will save the purchase of a $160 professionally made inspection plate.

The only boat repair left is to replace the tiller. During the trip to Fort Myers, we ran aground and some Good Samaritans (I believe that was their tribe, but I learned to prefer the Sea Tow tribe) pulled us off the mud. In doing so, their little speed boat took the tow line and speeded off south, somehow managing to drive the rudder as far over as it could go so that the tiller jammed against the back stay and broke right off at the rudder post. I unbolted the tiller from the rudder and sawed off the broken part, drilled a new hole, and we continued on. Later, I saw that the tiller had delaminated towards the end and I glued it back together. Finally, on the way back I missed the extra leverage lost due to inadvertently shortening the tiller. The upshot is I need a new tiller, but can get along with this one as the new one would have to be custom made at a price approaching $180.

New tiller or no new tiller, all in all, I want to go back to sea. 

Back in Apalachicola

Dyer dinghy on tow, Monitor holding course

Sara and I made it across the Gulf without too much damage, although I was quite exhausted after arriving in Apalachicola--it took days and days to recover. The passage was trying.
Leaving Fort Myers Yacht Basin the morning of March 13, it took us more than a day to reach the Gulf, all by motoring about five knots, towing my new, bright yellow, Dyer Dinghy.
We passed through Boca Grande Pass Friday afternoon about 3:00 pm and set sail for Apalachicola with the Monitor self-steering gear holding a near perfect course.

Windvane

At first, we paralleled the coast, sailing when we could; however, we felt justified to use the motor to hurry across the Tampa shipping lane. Those ships are really, really big! And, they neither stop nor maneuver quickly. But, we missed them all. Because the wind was light, we hove-to for the night.
Saturday, the wind was brisk at our backs, which caused for some big, following seas. At one point when we surfed down the face of a big wave, we hit almost ten knots! The gear held our course beautifully and we made very good time, with usual speeds from 5.0 to 6.2 knots.

Seasick Sara Sleeping

Sara got seasick, so that when night came, I had to stand watch. I figured that someone should take a look around and check the course and dinghy at least every half hour, so I set my alarm and tucked in. This is a very tiring system, by the way. Sara roused herself for a few checks, so I got a little sleep.

The next morning, Sunday, March 16, we were out of sight of land and the wind was at least 15 knots and getting stronger. We were finally getting close to Apalachicola according to the GPS. However, the Coast Guard weather report indicated a cold front would pass us towards the end of the day. So, I altered course slightly to Dog Island Pass (close to Carabelle) and put one reef in the main--should have put two reefs and changed the head sails). The day went smoothly enough and we made good time; again, the Monitor self-steering gear worked superbly.

Genoa Jib Drawing Full

When night came, I dropped the Genoa jib, tied everything securely, and hove-to for the night because Sara was seasick and I was beyond tired. The front hit like a freight train and turned the sea into a slosh of running horses. The wind literally howled in the rigging and the wind generator shot the ammeter's needle off the dial! The boat was sound, though, and although we had to hold on to move around (keep one hand for the boat) and use lee cloths to stay in our bunks, it was not too bad. I got quite a bit of sleep.

Monday morning was hard. The front had passed, leaving a calm. When I looked for the dinghy, all I saw was its painter disappearing into the Gulf; also, that painter was fouled around the self-steering gear's water vane, its rudder. So, when the waves were crashing, the dinghy jumped around the water vane, and both were damaged. As for the dinghy, its bow ring eventually pulled out--that's all I have left of my $400 investment is a brass bow ring, bolts and nuts included. As for the gear, the force of waves and boat had broken a retainer ring of the shaft connecting the water vane and the wind vane, so the shaft was loose, bent, and unable to do its self-steering job.

Genoa Jib Broken

Then, I went forward and found that the Genoa jib had come loose and most of it was in the water. During the storm, the bow must have stomped over and over on the jib's body, so that it ripped in the middle. I don't know if it is reparable or must be replaced. Too bad! That sail could drive the boat smartly. When Adam and I crossed, with the main, Yankee, and staysail, we averaged 6 knots. Later with the main gone, I set just the Genoa and we made about 5 knots. What a great sail!

The rest of the trip was mostly uneventful. Due to no wind, I dropped the sails and we motored through Dog Island Pass and into Carabelle. I won't mention that we ran aground in the river and had to be towed off by good old Sea Tow (thank goodness for the membership), but we finally met up with our daughter Lisa Tripp bearing sandwiches, and I spent the night at Slips and Moorings. My crew went on to Tallahassee, so the next day I continued single-handed.
First, I filled up with diesel and found that it took only twelve gallons to go 280 miles. Not too bad. A lot of cars can't do that. The wind was right in my face until the buoy turn to Apalachicola, so I enjoyed putting along at five knots. After the buoy, I raised sail, but the wind was light, so I assisted it with the engine. Once in the river, I dropped all sail and motored to my slip. Home again!

Ted and Sara are off again!

Ted and Sara took off Thursday afternoon from Ft. Myers and are on there way back to Apalachicola. So far the report is that there is little wind so they are headed very slowly up the cost (2.7 knots). Waves are calm. They should be off the coast of Sarasota some time this morning if all went well last night.

Sara sent me a couple of photos to share, so I'll post them below! 

—Lisa

"On the Move" — Leaving Ft. Myers, FL, March 13, 2014

"Sunrise" — March 14, 2014

 

"Sunset" — March 14, 2014

"Chilly. Good wind. Drinking my chai. Pretty sunrise.  

Almost ready to sail." —Sara, March 14, 2014

"We had backed over the rope tied to the dingy.  It was stuck so I went on with a knife to free rope from the motor." — Sara, March 14, 2014

I just watched Oliver Stone's Heaven & Earth, said to be the third of his Vietnam trilogy, following Platoon and Fourth of July. I was much moved by Heaven..., an incredible life odyssey of a Vietnamese woman, Le Ly, caught soup to nuts from the French colonialists to the American invaders and finally, Vietnamese liberators. She even marries a Marine and lives in San Diego for some time.

As captivating as Le Ly's life adventure is, what struck me over and over was the immeasurable destruction of Vietnam and Vietnamese society resulting from the American invasion. We destroyed that country--how does it go, "I had to destroy the village to save it..."? I always knew this, but Oliver Stone shows this. Such an insight is worth seeing the movie for.

And in the end, we did not 'save' Vietnam. My neighbor Al, a lifelong Air Force soldier and Vietnam Veteran, still believes America could have won that war, and my rejoinder is that our victory could only have been achieved by wiping out practically all the Vietnamese people, so what would have been the point?

The ruination of Vietnam for ideological and economic reasons is only one of many events that condemn America and give the lie to American exceptionalism. Just in my lifetime we see Korea, Iran, Guatemala and others..., Iraq, Afghanistan, Iraq again, Libya et al, actions that destabilized and or destroyed entire nations and caused the deaths of millions of people. Not much to be proud of, sorry to say, and the impulse continues as there is evidence that the US had a hand in the Ukraine rioting that led to the ouster of its kleptocratic  president, Yanukovych. I am quite sure that US motives for removing Yanukovych had nothing to do with his corrupt administration and everything to do with his rejection of European neoliberal policy. In other words, if he had been willing to go along with European austerity and privatization policies, he could have as many gold-plated bathtubs as he wanted. His sin, like those of many past autocratic leaders, was to reject Western leadership. Perhaps Oliver Stone could yet make a film about the downfall of one of these autocrats who strayed from the Western path.

Back in the Scanmar Monitor Self-Steering Business

Messy cabin workshop

I had some spare time between projects while staying at the Fort Myers Yacht Basin, so I decided to rebuild my Monitor self-steering gear. The reason is that twice in the past six months it had jumped its gears, which Ron, the designer at Scanmar Marine, wrote me indicated worn bearings. Furthermore, the thing was installed about 1994, so its parts were twenty years old. I bought Scanmar's bearing kit and used the Yacht Basin's utility barge to allow me to unbolt and remove the gear, then my neighbor Greg helped me haul it up to the dock. Next, I carefully marked all the support tubes so I could put them back together the same way, removed them, and rigged a block and tackle off the backstay to lower the gear into my cabin, disassemble it, and begin the task of replacing bearings and bushings. For about a week, the gear dominated my life as I had to share everything with all these pieces, tubes, and gears.

Visible in the photos above and on the left are the main frame and many of the pieces requiring new bushings. The Scanmar design primarily uses Delrin bearings because they are self-lubricating. All that can clog them is salt, which is usually cleaned out by rain or a marina-fed garden hose. This is a great advantage for a mechanism constantly drenched by ocean waves. However, Delrin is not cheap. The parts cost $155, including shipping, and arrived in the smallest Priority Mail boxes USPS sells!

Parts on dining room table

 I put it all together. In fact, I put it all together several times, in my clever attempts to outsmart the Scanmar engineers. I actually studied the Parts diagrams many times, yet invariably got something in backwards and had to start over. For one thing, though, the parts are very beautiful after some study.

Close-up of ring & pinion gears and actuator shaft. Lovely!

Here is a close up of the water vane operating gears and the actuator shaft that moves them in response to movements of the wind vane that then moves the tiller to catch the wind.

Gear in the cabin

The hardest task was reassembling the gears, mainly due to the lack of a shop bench and a strong vise (I turned my fold-out dining table into a workbench and used a very small Stanley vise I bought for splicing work). I found a concrete block that gave me clearance for the water vane shaft and rigged my little vise to hold everything in place while I carefully replaced the main gear shaft with its new bearings, shown at left.

Gear in the cockpit

 I wrecked some parts in the re-build, but Suzy at Scanmar promptly sent me new ones. I think she did this three times, only charging me once. To my credit, I never wrecked the same parts twice! Finally, the job was mostly done and I hoisted it out of the cabin into the cockpit. To do so, I had to fold back the canvas dodger in front of the cockpit, then again rig a block and tackle from the backstay (I used an old carabiner Adam Tripp gave me that, hooked to the main halyard and the block and tackle, could slide along the backstay until it was positioned directly above the hatch).

Gear on dock

Next, I hauled the main body to the dock in order to reattach all the support tubing. To my horror, I discovered that my relentless cleaning and polishing while waiting for parts had dissolved all my careful markings! There are four tubes that can go one way or another, so as I remember from my math classes, that is 4x3x2x1, 24 combinations. It took some time and patience, believe me, but I finally got it, as you can see on the left.

Gear on barge

Following reassembly, I changed the block and tackle position and lowered the gear onto the barge. Barges are tricky in that they reside in water so that pushing achieves an opposite reaction, likewise pulling. Plus, due to years of stress and strain on the gear, the hole positions had shifted. I did not have a good drift, but a bicycle trip to Tropical Hardware for a spike solved that problem. All in all, it took most of the day to remount the gear and I ended up with some pretty chapped lips but a mounted self-steering gear!

Watervane reflecting the dawn

Once remounted, I only had to readjust and reattach the control lines, and I can now go back to, if not a normal life, a life similar to the one I led before I decided to become a Monitor repairman! The result of all my work and expense is quite lovely, really. My new self-steering gear is clean and polished and the workings are whisper-fresh. I plan to try it out soon, and I am positive it will work very well.

Self-steering gear ready to go!

The photos show the water vane up, which is the position while in port or traveling by engine (one photo was taken early morning and reflects the dawn sky). It is like a rudder. The water vane locks in its down position when it is released from a rope holding it. Then, the wind vane, a thin wooden board like a sail and kept onboard when not in use, attaches to the top of the gear. The wind vane is aligned with the course, then control ropes are attached to the tiller. As the wind shifts or the boat moves off the wind-course, the wind vane moves, causing the water vane to move and the tiller to move, thus compensating for changes as the boat returns to the wind-course. Note this action is not adjusting to a compass course. The gear only cares about the wind, so the skipper can adjust sails perfectly and then be assured they will stay adjusted. There is no reason to man the tiller and most of the crew can go below for tea while the watchperson scans the horizon and checks for hazards. The single-handler can even go below for a quick nap!

One real plus about doing this work is I now have a fine understanding how the gear works. In addition, I have found that the Scanmar team, Ron and Suzy, are supremely dedicated to their customers; furthermore, they are friendly and super-helpful. It is nice to know that such people exist. They show the way that American business should exist. Thank you!