Da head bone's connected to da neck bone ♫ ♫

There are so few Tartan 42 owners around, I believe only 30 to be specific, that we depend on each other heavily for the exchange of ideas, pictures, and troubleshooting. When we were setting up Kintala we emailed several owners to get the dimensions and photos of various mods they had installed, including our nav seat / storage locker. So when a fellow Tartan 42 owner contacted us for more details on our Cape Horn self steering installation, I was only too happy to comply. Since I had been asked about the install before, I decided to do a comprehensive post of the installation on our Boat Notebook tab in the nav bar above. It was something I had been intending to do, but never got around to it, and now I had the necessary motivation. The holidays got in the way, as did visits with friends, but yesterday seemed the right time to gather the information and do the post.

I confess to having slacked in the progress-photo-taking during the actual installation. We were working on several projects at the same time and progress slipped by without documentation. In addition, the area in which the underdeck components of the self steering are located is unbelievably tight. So tight, in fact, that my claustrophobia does not permit me to get in to take pictures of where Tim got wedged to do the work. I emptied out the lazarette, which is our access to the area under the cockpit where most of the components are located, and took what pictures I could get with my arms extended in the tiny space but without actually doing the kid's-head-stuck-in-the-railing thing. While taking the pictures I noticed that the control lines for the wind vane were chafing and one of them was worn nearly through. I had Tim check it out and, as he was preparing to climb out of the lazarette, he noticed that the wooden ledge that holds the removable bottom boards of the locker had cracked at the fiberglass and was falling down, probably due to the excessive amount of stuff we always have to stuff in there since it's our only storage area for things like lines, fenders, dinghy pumps, and the rest of the paraphernalia necessary to operate a cruising boat. Tools and hardware and spare bits of boards were procured from various recesses and the repair commenced. Once the ledge was repaired, he attempted to reinstall the bottom boards only to discover that somewhere along the way a previous owner discovered that the ledge was sagging (preventing the proper installation of the bottom boards), and rather than repair the ledge - you guessed it - they cut the boards. Now, with the ledge repaired, the boards were too short. More bits, pieces, and tools, and the board was extended to fit. On completion of the repair, it was also noticed the the water leak we've been trying to track down for months happened to be a loose hose clamp on the water heater (located at the bottom of this particular lazarette) so that was fixed as well.

It is the way of boat projects. One small project always leads to finding more that need taken care of. So Michael, thanks for your patience. In the next few days you should see the project post appear in the Boat Notebook area of the blog. Getting it done should be much easier since I'm not listening to the water pump run and wondering where the leak is. But I do need to figure out how to get that blasted song out of my head ♫♫♫

Weekend review

Even with family coming to see the boat this morning it seemed a shame not to get anything done. It would only take a few minutes to add an additional flag halyard under the starboard top spreader, an easy, not dirty, job. (Kintala has one on the port side but I heard somewhere that “Q” and courtesy flags should be flown starboard. Don’t know if it’s true, but mast-on-the-rack is the time to make sure one is not being a lout for a guest.) That done and no sign of visitors, a slightly dirty job was next; that of putting the final coat of paint on the rudder “shoe” repair. Of course family arrived just about the time my right arm was thoroughly specked in black hydro coat. It’s always best to be working with water based paint when a quick cleanup is desired.

It has been several years since young Campbell went with us to the Annapolis Boat show and charmed the crowds by testing out various V-berths. She is now a charming young lady but, after a short test, declared the V-berth in Kintala to be just fine. Her parents and grand-parents (Deb’s brother and his wife) were pretty excited about the boat as well. The plan was for them to see Kintala floating with mast up and sails bent on … but things don’t always work out as planned. It was a fun visit anyway and everyone got up and down the ladder without drama.

Visit over,  John invited Deb and me to go sailing with him on Ellida. She hadn’t flown a sail since entering the Erie Canal several weeks ago. This was my fourth trip out to the bay, Deb’s second, and John’s first; making me the most experienced “bay sailor” on board. In spite of that handicap the only difficulty encountered was a complete lack of wind. Sails slatted on the various powerboat wakes, knocking the stale air out of them. But actual sailing will have to wait for a better day. We did see some pretty nice boats; including one schooner flying a full set of square rigged canvas. Not something one ever sees on Lake Carlyle.

Back in the marina work called once again. Some time with the sander, another trip or two into “the hole” to run control lines, a few minutes figuring out which way was “front” on the wind vane blade, and our Cape Horn installation was finally, completely, utterly completed. With the vane standing tall at the stern, a dinghy motor hanging on the rail, and jerry cans lashed to her life lines, Kintala gives every appearance of being a true “cruiser’s sailing boat”. The illusion fades as soon as one notes there is sand and stands under her keel, not water; and she has no mast; rigging, or sails.

She does have a good looking wind vane though. We will see what tomorrow has to offer.

A sense of the now ...

A new propeller is a thing of beauty, all shiny and bronze and gleaming in the sun. Sadly most of its days will be spent languishing in unfriendly waters where creatures of various tenacities will seek a permanent home on its carefully constructed curves. So I admired it for a minute, hanging fresh and ready to go to work under Kintala’s keel, then squirted four coats of dull, grey, zinc primer over it. Still, it looks better than the old one did. I also added a couple of zincs to the prop shaft. The prop we bought is reported to be “micro balanced”. Nice, but it seems to me to be mostly propaganda. Oh I’m sure it is finely tuned to run true at the factory, but with two heavy zincs attached to the same shaft melting away at an uneven pace, it seems “micro balanced” is not going to last very long, or mean very much to an actual boat working its way through the ocean.

I wonder if all cruisers develop this sensitivity to our society’s constant barrage of half-truths and spin? Being away from the relentless advertising of TV and radio, content to sit on the porch sipping an Irish coffee and watching the sun set as the evening’s entertainment, true things, (or at least accurate things) form the basics of our decisions making now. What is the weather really going to do? Not TWC’s breathless, bubble-headed take on every routine change in the atmosphere. Which way is the current running this morning, how much do peaches cost at the next reachable store?

One of the things I liked about being a pilot was how much of my life was concentrated on “the now”. Pilots, when they are doing pilot things, are focused on the immediate. So are motorcycle riders (the faster one goes the more one is focused), SCUBA divers, and rock climbers. All things I have enjoyed.  Land lubbers tend to dwell in their imaginations; whatever is going on around them is secondary to what is going on in their head. They text while driving, think about work while walking down the street, spend their evenings living in the make believe world of “reality TV”.

This new cruiser’s life is living close to the now. The task at hand, the weather, the water, the balance of the boat and the world forward of the bow; these are my normal points of focus. What is happening all around sets the tone and determines the next decision.

Our original plan was to splash as soon as the prop was installed. But part of living in the now is that plans become very tenuous things. They are wisps of possibilities more than actual intentions, shredded by the slightest breeze of what is actually happening. In this case the “breeze” was watching the boats in relation to the docks, moving three feet up and down several times over the course of the day. (I am still getting used to the fact that, in this part of the world, docks do not float.) Glassing the transfer tube while working from a dinghy would be messy and uncomfortable at best, and maybe near impossible. Tides are a real thing that must be taken into account, so we decided to finish the steering vane install on the stands instead. Splashing will wait another day, or two.

It depends on the now.

Moving day ...

... has come ... and mostly gone. There is no sign of a truck, trailer, or driver. Not unexpected really, since we got a hint last week that the schedule would slip when there was a question about getting a road permit that extended over the holiday. Text messages went back and forth and by yesterday evening Sept 9th had become the new "moving day". I'm not exactly sure how it is that we couldn't get a truck here on a specific day even with months of lead time; something that in any other industry is as routine as breathing. But this is a "marine transport company". As soon as the adjective "marine" is attached to anything pretty much any semblance of normal operation can be dismissed.

Other than the total lack of professionalism (which no longer surprises me) I am trying to shrug off this additional delay as just another part of being a cruiser. Wait on weather, wait on tides, wait on currents ... wait on a truck. Waiting too many more days will start to be a problem; after all we really have no desire to winter in the Chesapeake Bay. So far we don't need to be gone as much as we would like to be gone. And in the meantime there is always work to do. For the last couple of days I have taken up residence in the lazarette, gaining access to the underside of the cockpit to try and figure out the control line runs for the Cape Horn wind vane.

By the way, as good as the reviews the Cape Horn system garners, the installation has had its bumps. What one gets in the kit is less than half of the pieces actually needed to make this thing work. Sure the missing bits are small; turning blocks, fair leads, clutches, the actual control line itself. Spot sourcing them once the project is started makes sense since the amount needed of each of these things is dependent on the actual installation; and you get to make that up as you go. But somehow I didn't quite get that when reviewing the order list against the installation manual; and we have added several hundreds of dollars to the price by getting the rest of the needed items. Something to keep in mind if you need to put one of these things in your cruising budget. Not Cape Horn's fault at all, just sharing what happened to us. But trust me on this, doing a hot section on a turbo prop engine is a far sight easier than putting this thing in a 30 year old boat. If you can't do it yourself expect the labor bill to add 50% to 100% to the installed cost.

None of which is easing my transition into the cruising life any. I can't get a truck here on time. The bottom took 3 weeks instead of 4 days, the wind vane isn't wind-ing or vane-ing anything yet, the list of work still to do is daunting and I'm sure I don't know what all needs done yet.

I guess if this was easy everyone would be doing it.

A cruiser's day on the hard.

After a rather touching and fun party at Boulder last night (see Deb's post) today started out as just another cruiser's day on the hard. I say that like I have any idea what a "cruiser's day on the hard" actually is; seeing as I haven't been cruising yet. But I read the blogs and hear the stories; bottom paint, repairs, upgrading equipment, replacing systems...and doing it all in an unfamiliar place. Kintla is getting the same kind of treatment though, to be truthful, Tradwinds isn't all that unfamiliar. We have some history here and Craig (manager of said Tradewinds) has done everything possible to aid our efforts to get going. (I'm kind of hoping this is a normal thing among marina managers, or at least among the ones we run across in the next few years.)

Then, leaving the clubhouse this morning I passed an ASA 101 class gathered around charts and books, prepping for their second day on the lake. The sudden rush of deja vu was intense and somehow two different times, separated by more than six years, become the same moment. My beginner self was sitting among the class, leaning over the unfamilar charts and trying to think like a sailor. Glancing up he took note of his future self deep into final preparations for departing land, maybe not a sailor yet but knowing enough sailor things to get started. And for just that moment it seemed clear that this was always going to happen, that this particular current in our life was simply too strong to avoid.

That thought changed the entire day's complexion, though soon my present self was shoulder deep in work once again. While I concentrated my efforts in the stern Deb puzzled over finding places below for the few things we still own; few compared to the collection of just a few weeks ago, that is. It still seems like a lot of stuff for 400 square feet of living space, but she was working some kind of magic and bag after bag dissapeared into Kintala without things leaking out the ports or bulging through the hatches.

Taking advantage of having another set of hands available to help fit wind vane parts too ungainly to handle alone seemed a good way to spend my day. Slow but steady progress was made and the transfer tube foward supports are cut, fitted, and temporarily bolted in place. Next will be fitting the tower and getting those supports cut, fitted, and temporarily bolted in place as well. When everything is temporarily bolted in place and it all looks right then, and only then, will everything be made permanent. And that may wait until the boat is back in the water and it can be verified that all is as it should be in refrence to the water line. We'll see, but for today we are pretty content with the progress made.

Or maybe we are just content to be at this place and doing this thing. Either way, tomorrow will be day 2 of living on a boat full time. I think I'll spend it sanding on the hull.

Last Tango in St. Louis

I'm back at the house in the city for one last time. Tomorrow is an early morning go for the second half of the contract flight started on Monday. By Saturday evening the boat will be my only "home address". Deb will be there Saturday but has to return to the city for the final act of renting out the house. She will spend a last couple of days helping Daughter Middle do some work on her house before joining me late next week. Then, finally, both of us will have turned 6 years of part-time living on our boat(s) into our full time occupation.

OK so this hole might sink the boat

It will not be "last good-byes", not yet. There are still several weeks of work to do before the boat goes on the truck. While I am actually making a little progress on the steering vane install, most of the effort for the next two weeks will focus on the hull bottom. There are a couple of items that need addressed; what look like pretty minor things to me but the marine industry types like to get goofy about. The marine industry type being, in this case, yet another surveyor. (New insurance, another survey).

Next step is to glass in this transfer tube and add the support brackets

His email referred to “global blisters indicating uncured resins”, “disbonding”, “hull flex and cracking”, “hydraulic migration”, and “the biggest smile I have ever seen”. Sounds terrible, right? But "the biggest smile I have ever seen" is simply "disbonding" bondo. Tartan used pounds of it fairing in the keel. Anyone who thinks bondo has anything to do with structure needs to go back to High School auto-body class. "Hull flex and cracking" is a minor crack in more bondo used to fill where the prop shaft support exits the hull. (Apparently telling the difference between fiberglass and bondo is a highly technical endeavor requiring something marine surveyors don't own; eyes maybe?) "Hydraulic migration" is, well, I don't know what it is. I know what it means but I have no clue what it has to do with our hull. There are no soft spots in it so I'm not sure where the "hydraulic" is supposed to be "migrating" too. I think I'm supposed to be impressed by the technical sounding words except, well, I've been an aircraft technician for four decades. We have all kinds of technical sounding words to throw around as well; hammer, bucking bar, screwdriver, duct tape, load cells, bend radius, edge distance ... are you impressed? Me neither.

As for the “global blisters indicating uncured resins”? It looks to me like surface defects and years of poorly applied bottom paint. Uncured resins? This hull is thirty years old and "uncured resins" show up in the last two years floating in fresh water? It is going to take some extra work to fix the screwed up paint jobs; two weeks maybe instead of the normal four days. There will be some research to find out about base coats and compatibility, and a fair amount of effort, but it falls far short of being "an issue".

I was a little bent out of shape at the survey at first; after all this is the second one I've had and the second one I'm having "issues" with. But now? Ah well, this is apparently what "surveyors" do in the marine industry, an industry that hasn't impressed me very much anyway. In my opinion this whole "blistering" thing has been mostly a tempest in a teapot and a way to generate some easy billing hours for boat yards. Sure there can be problems with composite materials; but you have to be seriously incompetent to lay one up so poorly that uncured resins cause hydraulic migration leading to disbonding, hull flex, cracking and (I suppose) eventual sinking. That kind of thing doesn't show up 30 years later.

I spent my entire professional career betting my life on being right about mechanical and technical things. (That's what happens when you fix airplanes and then fly them.) And I know a little bit about composite structures and fiberglass. Kintala's hull "issues" are largly cosmetic. She is not about to flex, disbond herself, or sink. And that is all I care about.

But I hope I never have to pay another dime to a marine surveyor.

Pile 'O Parts

With a few hours to play at the marina and drive-train work suspended until the V-drive returns, smaller jobs have moved to the fore. Thus another pile of useless parts has made its way off the boat. We paid for these useless parts of course, though at the time I thought we were paying for a working autopilot system.

Ages ago my Gramps (origin of my Gypsy blood and a true rogue) taught me that a fool and his money should be parted, and if you can get some of it so much the better. Unfortunately I turned out to be the fool in this transaction. A fact which I'm sure irritates Gramps to no end should his dearly departed soul be in a place to observe what goes on in these parts. On the other hand the riff-raff who sold Kintala ended up with nothing more than a chunk of my money while I ended up with a Pile 'O Parts that may, one day, actually be a world trotting sailboat. So maybe Gramps will be okay with it in the end.

Truth be told, I am pretty pleased to have this junk off the boat. The motor was shorted, the rudder feedback pot was shot, the control wiring harness was trashed, and the system is long out of production making locating replacement parts impossible. It is also no surprise that the install itself was sloppy; wires run every which way, chain loose - pretty typical boat maintenance quality. With the trash cleared out our plan is to install a CapeHorn Self-Steering System before taking on big water. Though the airplane driver in me likes the idea of a full-on autopilot system that can navigate a series of pre-planned way points, the sailor in me warms to the thought of a self-steering system that works with the wind and needs no electrical power. (Any user / owner input from anyone who has experience with the CapeHorn system will be warmly welcomed.)

Other small jobs in the queue include red L.E.D. flood lights for the cockpit and poking around the engine cooling loop a bit more looking for zincs and restrictions in the exchanger tubes. A dodger kit rests in the living room, (I am looking at it as I write this) the next big project in the works.

And so it goes...