We are back on First Light after the normal 2 day / 15 hour drive. The plan is for this to be the last pre-trip trip. Priorities for this visit are to have the gen-set generate, the depth gauge show how much water is under the boat, the AIS tell us where other boats might be, the stern nav and spreader lights to actually light, the horn to honk, see the Dink in its fancy pull-it-up-on-the-swim-platform kit position, and paint the trim stripe so that bit of major ugly stops driving me crazy. Those are just the highlights of THE LIST. There is little to no chance it will all get done before heading back for a semi-final stint at work. Semi-final because the folks I work for will not grant a leave-of-absence for the purpose of moving a boat. So I told them I would be handing in my notice. That seemed to catch them a little off guard and they then assured me I would be welcomed to reapply as long as we returned within a year. They will even count the years I have been there toward things like vacation time. But the final decision to return lies after First Light is safely in St. Louis. Many a nautical mile lay between now and then, though I think it a fair chance that the trip costs will suggest a return to gainful employment might be a good idea.
What does not get taken off THE LIST this trip we will do in April before heading out. A good guess is that we will stay here in Oriental for a couple of weeks before dropping the dock lines for a last time and heading north. From what I have been hearing from Deb, the half a loop trip is going to be at least as much of a challenge as was getting Kintala down the ICW and over to the Islands our first year out. From here to the North end of the Chesapeake Bay is pretty familiar ground. But after that?
There are lots and lots of locks and locks. There are places where the water is both narrow and shallow, similar to the Rock Pile. First Light draws a little less than did Kintala, but she has two big propellers hanging down as the first things to gouge Mother Earth. Kintala had 9,000 pounds of lead that hung under her hull protecting a tiny bow tie of a prop, something we put to the test on more than one occasion during our years as live-a-board cruisers.
There is a Great Lake that sank the Edmund Fitzgerald that would not think twice about putting First Light on the bottom. (I know, the ocean has sunk a lot of boats. One expects that kind of thing from an ocean. But a lake?) There are drunken weekend power boaters, uncounted barge challenges, and commercial shipping galore all squished into rivers...tiny ribbons of water that one can see across. The only thing not to worry about is opening bridges. With rare exception, First Light does not need the bridge to open; she will just scoot along under the span without pulling the bridge tender away from his iPad. So, though we are staying mostly in US waters and not tackling anything like the Gulf Stream, it still seems like an adventure in the making, with many new things to see and learn. Why else live on a boat?
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| No, it's not any standard nut... |
Day One: While Deb worked relentlessly trying to find the right parts to get the windshield wipers to work: (Windshield wipers!) I started on the exterior paint. The morning found the day a bit chilly with a stiff wind blowing. Fortunately, by the time taping and scotchbright work was done, the wind had settled and the sun was shining. So on went the first layer of dark blue. This is ten-foot paint work. But one coat in and, from 10 feet away, First Light is starting to look like a boat that is cared for. (Pay no attention to the rail teak, that is on the list as well.) With paint drying, I started with other items on the THE LIST. It turns out the horn actually does work, so long as one presses the button and holds it in. Apparently it needs tickled before it will honk.
All it took to repair the aft nav light was installing a whole new light fixture. The old one came off in bits and pieces. Not sure why it was still hanging onto the boat. We managed the install without dropping anything into the water (thanks to the old hang-an-umbrella-upside-down-below-the-work trick). Not the norm for this trip so far. Already a knife, a part of a guitar stand, and the cap for our mineral spirits bottle have taken the plunge and disappeared...
After ordering parts for the windshield wipers, Deb started poking around the navigation system and, in the process, fixed the depth sounder. A plug had pulled partly out of the display unit. Not far enough to hang down where it could easily be spotted, but far enough that when she started to trace the wiring, the plug pulled the rest of the way, hanging down where it could be spotted. (Remember the old joke about making sure the TV is plugged in before calling in the repair man?) Tomorrow we will add a clamp to support the wires and that problem should be solved. Day one has been a good day.
Day Two: Deb spent the day in the flying bridge removing old sealer, cleaning up tape goo, and getting ready to reseal all of the seams. There is a good bit of water damage in the salon, apparently caused by water leaking through from the flying bridge. We have already chased down some clogged drain lines, cleared some and replaced others. I'm pretty sure every boat that ever was leaked a bit somewhere. First Light is no exception.
I started the day with an attempt to fix the spreader lights, only to discover that there are no spreader lights. Which shouldn't have come as a surprise since we could not find a switch or circuit breaker anywhere that looked to be associated with spreader lights. Yet there were two light-looking things hanging off of the radar arch, complete with what appeared to be bulbs. It seemed logical to try make them work. But when I went to take them down they literally disintegrated in my hands, the rusted parts falling into big bits and dust. The only wiring to be found anywhere near the apparent fixtures were two little stubs attached to what was once a light bulb socket. The only thing I can figure is, when the cover over the aft deck was added, it was decided that the lights didn't actually serve any purpose except to light up the top of the cover. But instead of removing them they were just left hanging there, slowly corroding back into the constituent materials from which they were forged. They are gone now. The starboard side is plugged and sealed. On the port side, which hangs over the ladder to the flying bridge, we are thinking about mounting a solar powered flood light. Seems like a good idea for going up the ladder in the dark.
The rest of my day was spent applying a second coat of paint and cleaning up the mess. While I did that Deb met with an electrical / navigation systems guru. As it turns out the AIS works just fine if one pushes the right buttons. We also learned that the chart plotter will, in fact, guide the auto-pilot along a pre-plotted route, just like the jet I fly. So First Light has the nautical equivalent of a Mode S transponder (for traffic), an FMS for routing and auto-pilot control, and RADAR. I'm feeling right at home in my floating cockpit.
Day 3: The Dink was the focus of efforts first thing this morning. First Light is equipped with a fancy rig that allows the Dink to be levered up onto the swim platform to rest on its starboard pontoon. At the same time the engine pivots to keep its vital fluids from leaking all over the place. Kind of cool but the Dink then blocks the regulation required boat name and hailing port on the transom. The previous owner to the previous owner painted that info on the bottom of the Dink for all to see when the mother ship is underway with the Dink stowed. Nice idea except the previous owner had changed the name (that we kept) and and hailing port is now St. Louis, MO. We needed to sand off the old info and apply a new coat of paint. We decided not to paint the info on the Dink and will make a banner with the required info be hung between the the aft roof supports when underway. Tomorrow, after the paint dries hard, we will toss the dink in the water and see about making the fancy rig work.
Also accomplished was the install of a camera that allows us to look at the boat's aft deck and main cabin via the internet. It swivels and tilts and even has a speaker. It has its own solar panel for power and the whole install took a couple of hours. Not bad for a boat project. We have two more cameras to mount in the engine room so we can keep an eye on things without crawling into that hot, noisy, and somewhat hazardous space while underway.
We also had a diver look at the bottom and the zincs. The ones on First Light, in the water for a total of barely 3 months, are already 20 to 30 percent gone. I learned today that one should not put all the zincs on at the same time, particularly when one has two on the running gear. That way both will not fail together, leaving the running gear to melt away. Zinc replacement is going to be an ongoing maintenance item. Those things are not cheap and First Light sports eight of them. Rumor has it that zincs tend to go away much faster when a boat is on shore power. We hope to avoid slips for much of our half-a-loop trip, hopefully easing the zinc melt rate.
Much to my delight the diver also found the knife I dropped into the water the day we got here. I am generally not the sentimental type and losing a knife overboard is certainly nothing to get upset over. But that particular knife was a gift from two of my grandsons back when that branch of the family was also living on a boat and we were traveling together. I have been carrying it for very nearly 10 years now. Just reaching for it reminds me of that time together. So having the diver pop up with it in his hand made me smile.
The day ended with us being invited to an open mike night at a local eatery. It was a fun time with a singer worthy of a record deal, a couple of guitar players that were pretty good, a sax player who was really good, and included a stint of blues harmonica that was first rate. Among those stepping up was a talented Ukulele player with a Baritone Uke. I happen to have a Baritone in my collection, currently with us on the boat. I own eight Ukes of various size and tuning, love playing them all, and am not near as good as our new friend Bruce. Not only is he a better player than I, his collection is bigger as well. I'm not sure of which is more impressive, his talent or his collection. (There is still some decisions to be made as to which of my collection will be onboard when we head out. Four, plus Deb's guitar and my table top drum kit, is the current tally. But the 5-string and Bass are not on this list.)
All in all a really good day.
Day Four: With the paint on its bottom dried, we wrestled the Dink over the side rail and into the water. With the big boat pulled forward in the slip to make a little room, we alined the little boat with the swim platform and started fitting pieces together. With the Dink firmly attached to the swim platform by swivel gear, we tied a line to what looked to be a good lifting place and tried to pivot the thing up out of the water. We didn't make but a few inches of progress—too much weight at too shallow an angle. So the debate started. I was of the opinion that nothing short of a 4 to 1 pulley rig mounted to an aft deck roof support for a better angle, would get the job done. Deb insisted that couldn't be the case since the previous owner made it work with no such permanent mount, nor was there a pulley rig with the other Dink hardware. We tried a couple of different approaches with no progress. Then Deb got that look in her eye that suggests she is onto something and went hunting. A few minutes later she came down from the flybridge with a 4 to 1 pulley rig she found stashed under the upper steering station. (I think she saw it when she was under there fixing the depth finder and realized what it was for while I was fuming about drilling more holes in the boat.) With one end hitched to an aft cleat and the other on an obvious lift point...success. It is not an easy lift but it works. So we were both right. It did take a 4 to 1 purchase and the previous owner had already figured that out. I am not completely satisfied that it is as good a rig as we can come up with, but it will certainly do for now. The day ended with the Dink is in its resting place on the swim platform.
We had hoped to fit the motor to the Dink today as well. But the little boat started taking on water as soon as it landed in the wet stuff, (Adding a bit of incentive to get the thing up on the swim platform.) A close look showed the water coming from around the drain assembly where it mounted in the transom. So we pulled, cleaned, resealed, and reinstalled the whole thing. Tomorrow, depending on the weather, we may take another shot at the mounting the outboard. All in all today didn't feel as productive as yesterday, but progress is progress and fixing leaks is always a good thing. Another good thing is the view out the forward windows with the dink off the foredeck. There is a lot of boat out there! Tomorrow is the last work day before heading back to St. Louis. Weather will decide what projects fill the day.
Day Five: We finished day four puzzled by the new (and totally irritating) noise that started coming from the refrigerator late in the evening as we got ready to hit the rack. Though we had other plans for today, seeing if we could quiet the fridge rose above the Dink motor on the get-it-done list. But first was a chance to have some morning munchies and coffee with friend Mike from cruising days gone by. His Cat is in a yard about an hour''s drive from here where he is getting some work done. It has been a long time since our last visit and such a chance should not be missed. We talked boats, plans, the state of the world, and the generally miserable quality of marine industry maintenance support. Though I have to admit that our experience with marine maintenance support and First Light has been the exception that makes the rule. Engine, bottom paint, electronics, just the general helpfulness from the people at Duck Creek and now Oriental; we are on a bit of a run when it comes to the best boating has to offer its participants.
After a while Mike allowed as he needed to get back to working on his boat. Deb and I certainly needed to get back to work on First Light. We traded a heart-felt goodbye and got back to the business of being sailors: working on the boat.
Back at the boat we pulled the 'fridge from its cabinet and started poking around. Nothing seemed amiss with the unit itself, but there was a bunch of wiring and connection boxes unrelated to the fridge sharing the same space. None of it was secured in any way with lots of things to bounce off of nearby. We tidied up the wiring and secured the boxes, pulled and cleaned the fridge fan (not finding anything amiss with it) cleaned the whole space up and...the fridge ran with nothing but a barely audible hum to be heard. What remained of the rest of the day was spent on minor projects and deciding what tools to leave on the boat and what needs to go back to St. Louis. As the sun set, we set off for a Pot Luck diner with folks from the marina, hosted by a sailing couple Patty and Andrew. They are in the process of refitting a Kadey-Krogen 42 for departing Oriental on their own great loop trip starting this spring. It may be that we will have a partner boat for at least part of our journey. How much fun could that be? The evening ended with us saying good-by to a whole group of new friends. There is no better way to end a day (or a week) of working on the boat.
Day Seven...and we are home. And I leave you with some of the beauty that is Oriental, NC.
