Boat Projects and Old Man Winter

This is our  last night on First Light for this trip. Today we finished up the last of the winterizing tasks—the A/C. Getting the engines, genset, and A/C winterized were the "must do" items this time around. (We swore we were never going to have a boat somewhere that required winterizing again, but this is how cruising plans go...) It took several days of effort and multiple trips to cobble together the stuff needed to get it done. First Light now carries a pump for A/C winterization, a gizmo for doing the engines, and a modified plunger / pipe set up for the deck wash.  If we ever have to winterize the boat again, it will take us about two hours. Having a clue as to what you are doing is an amazingly good thing.

A quick-disconnect fitting goes through the  board
for the hose going to the bucket full of
antifreeze. The fitting extends into the sea
strainer. If we were actually going to do
this frequently, we would make a much better
model of this prototype.

The board has a rubber backing and wingnuts that
run down on the screws to hold it in place on the
sea strainer for the engine raw water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I struggled with the aft cabin doors for the better part of three days. The doors work better than they did,  but are still not right. And there was still the puzzle as to why the doors were so screwed up in the first place. But we think the puzzle has been solved along with a chance to make the doors actually work as they should. Deb, while searching through one of the piles of stuff stashed around the boat, ran across a bag of bits matching some of those we found on the doors.  It turns out the doors have already been fit with an aftermarket kit, likely installed years ago. As the years went by, and wear and tear accumulated, they deteriorated to barely working.

This leaves me with two ways of looking at the last few days. One? We spent the better part of three days' time running around in circles with little to show for hours of effort. Two? We were working our way though a maze, figuring things out and parsing together ancient history with few cues. The better part of three days is just how long it took. I think I'll go with option two. When working on an older piece of equipment that has seen endless upgrades, hacks, replacements, and modifications in an industry where there is no tracking of such things? And on a piece of equipment that is new to you? Time spent wandering around in the dark is inevitable. In many ways, this is like rebuilding a classic motorcycle or antique airplane. When it comes to this kind of work, we have all heard the saying, "You can have it, fast, cheap, or right...pick two." But when it comes to the kind of repairing and rebuilding required on something like an old boat, one that needs to be safe for traveling and comfortable for living on? You can do it done right, but fast and cheap are not options. It will take all the spare time you have and all the money you can spare. 

New door kit parts are on their way, so the next time we tackle the doors we will have a much better idea from where we are starting and the direction we need to go. We got a little cosmetic work done on the inside and I had a chance to get  more comfortable with the engine room. Likely a good thing since I suspect I'll be spending a lot of time in that space. There are exhaust hoses to replace, heat exchangers (3) to pull, have overhauled, and reinstall, and alternator belt covers to reinstall. I'm not sure why they were removed. The idea of working around running engines in a bumpy sea (something that is certainly possible) with those belts exposed does not give me warm fuzzies. 

Most important, we are ever more pleased with the idea of First Light being a part time home and looking forward to having her on the water. There will still be trials and hurdles before we are floating down the ICW somewhere. But we have figured out a bunch of things and have a good idea of the next bunch of things we need to figure out. Meaning this has been a good bunch of days. 

Thanks giving...

We have been on First Light for a few days, digging into the "TO DO" list while burning up vacation time I was about to lose.  It has to be admitted I am slow getting back into the swing of all things boat. The first time I un-retired was to a boat yard for a Florida Summer workout. That stint included gutting and rewiring a Sport Fisher from fly bridge electronics to bilge pumps, anchor windlass to trim tabs. In between was every knik-knac a rich person wants: AC, Heat, TV, fancy lighting, sound system, electric head, router, and a humungous battery bank to make it all work while at anchor. (Don't ask me, I thought it was insane as well.) It was a big and involved job that took months.

The second time I un-retired was back to the same boat yard, a stint that lasted a year. No single big job, just a relentless stream of engine, electrical, electronic, fiberglass, and general maintenance work. This last time I un-retired was to an air-conditioned box stuffed with airplane parts that get fooled into thinking they are actually in the sky. The tools required to fly the SIM are an i-Pad filled with approach plates and lesson plans, and a pen. Indeed, in the going-on-three-years that this un-retirement has lasted, about the most difficult mechanical thing I have done is adjust the de-railer on a 21 speed bike. Something even easier than it sounds... and it sounds pretty easy. So being surrounded by more tools than most people now-a-days have ever seen, with a list of projects months long? It is fair to say I am feeling a bit out of practice. So I decided to hold the engine and wiring work for later and get warmed up with something simple.

Unlike Kintala, First Light has more than one way into the boat. The main one is two giant sliding doors that make up most of the aft wall of the salon. The second is a smaller door next to the (Inside!) helm station. After sitting for the better part of two years, all needed both hands and a bit of grunt to open and close. Why not start with something easy like cleaning and lubing the tracks? That was three days ago. 

The doors do, in fact, now open with one hand. But… the main doors aft still don’t match edge to edge when closed. The latch doesn't latch and there is a gap in the middle. Simple fix, right? There has to be a ride-height adjustment on the door, just adjust it. Yeah. It came off missing one of two identical bits that the door edge rides on. A bit that apparently disappeared into the great blue somewhere as it isn't anywhere near the scene of the crime. Fabricating a new bit is no big deal, but a new bit identical to the old bit isn't going to fix the problem. The door will still ride too low. Fix? The old bits were 2 x 1/4 x 1/8 inch and glued to the carrier. Make new ones 2 x 1/4 x 1/4 and lift the door edge another 1/4 inch. Easy but...why are the doors that far out of whack? 

The boat has been on the hard for two years. Can things have shifted that far? I don't think so, but it is possible. Is there some hidden structural problem with the doors that went undiscovered during the survey? I don't think so, but it is possible. In any case several attempts proved that the gluing the new bits in place proved inadequate. Some very careful sizing, drilling and countersinking was brought into play to mechanically support the adhesive. 

 

 

Edit: We have since found this piece in a bucket of spare parts that might be missing from the doors. Anyone with previous experience please chime in...

 

 

 

The red arrows are
pointing to the gap

I did discover an actual structural problem while working on the doors. The (Inside!) helm station door has delaminated along its aft edge and there is no seal between the door and the cabin. It is an open no-toll highway for cold air (It's going to be 29º tonight) and insects. I have no clue how the door actually comes out of the track to be repaired. Is isn't something we will have the time for on this trip so figuring it out can wait until later. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We haven't been entirely stymied. The salon ceiling had ugly, broken, white accent strips that made the place look like a decrepit hunting trailer. They are now brown accent strips on a white ceiling sporting shiny hardware—pleasing the little bit of mechanic's OCD I carry around in my brain and evidence that we have actually accomplished something. Lines have been added to keep the flybridge drain water from staining the aft cabin wall with new lines replacing those on the flybridge cover.

Newly installed hoses down the side of the window

We have also figured out why the hatch to the flybridge is so hard to open. Someone did a excellent job of routing out the track to a very tight tolerance with the slide brackets, apparently unaware that wood swells when it gets wet. A bit of sanding should take care of it. 

The green arrow points to the slider
and the groove it rides in

We also did some work in the galley while mounting an antique coffee grinder that Daughter Middle's In-Laws gifted. It looks cool while serving our admitted coffee snobbishness. 

Deb has been busy as well. One survey squawk was the lack of a barrier between the AC and DC portions of the breaker panel. Not something that was required when this boat was built. Several different marine electricians have suggested that the only fix is to rebuild the entire panel to meet the requirement. Something completely out of the question. We have come up with a different way to insulate the AC from the DC. One that includes a flexible insulation barrier fit and around the wiring maze and held in with snaps and/or Velcro. Since the sewing machine is still in St. Louis, the project won't be finished till the next trip and photos will be forthcoming. 

She is also the computer / wi-fi / screen / phone / i-pad wizard. She bought some kind of magic stick that ties it all together so we can sit and watch a movie at night on our (to us) big 25 x 15 inch screen. Not sure it will get much use anchored out in some pretty spot with little hint of my human family near by.  But it is kind of fun while sitting on the hard with nothing but other project boats to see though our giant salon windows. 

The transition from cruising to being land-bound was jarring. Truth to tell, the only thing making it tolerable was the blessing of having taken up residence so near some of those we love most in the world. We are as fully assimilated back into land living as we are ever likely to be. Enough so that any abrupt shift back to cruising would have been a bit bumpy. That transition will be far more palatable spaced out over the months as we turn this old boat into our new (and part time) home. Another blessing for which to be grateful during this Thanksgiving week on the boat.