Kintala's demented soul

I may ("May", I say) have to concede that Kintala has a soul after all. Working on the battery monitoring system this morning meant rewiring a good bit of the battery box. Doing that required shutting down the DC power system. Out of habit I shut down each individual circuit before switching off the main. When I snapped the "bilge pump" switch to "OFF" the switch toggle broke off and fell on the nav station. I swear it sounded just like a high pitched laughing cackle as it rattled to a stop.

Are you kidding me? What are the odds of that happening just at that moment? This boat has a soul all right; the soul of an evil practical joker, laughing with glee every time it hatches a prank that screws up the works.

So I got me a little screwdriver and snapped the switch back to the "ON" position. Under normal circumstances we never dis-arm that pump anyway. Just figure the switch is now "safetied" and the pump is hardwired to the battery. (This, in my humble opinion, is as it should be anyway.) Take THAT you demented little witch.

Other than this broken part (and having to run one more wire through the boat's innards) the rest of the day went well. By this evening the interior was all buttoned up; looking like a living space rather than a shop. And we could, with just the touch of a button, know the voltage on house and aux battery, amps going in or out, total amp hours used, total amp hours still available, and estimated hours left before the house battery needs charged. Yowza! If one wanted to spend the money for some add-on bits, this thing would also set off an under or over voltage alarm, tell the temperature of the battery, and start shedding electrical loads all by itself should it be deemed necessary. That much technical geewiz on a 30 year old sailboat would probably make my eyes bleed, so we decided to keep it simple.

(If you decide to install one of these things - a XANTRAX LinkPRO - use the 24 gauge wire they recommend. I used 16 gauge because West Marine - where we bought the unit - had no 24 in stock and the 16 was on sale for half price. It worked, but it is way overkill and hard to install. Also, for the techno-types who might be reading this; I had to rewire the battery box because the old shunt for the amp meter was wired into the HOT side of Kintala's DC system. Not sure if that was normal 30 years ago, but it is totally wrong in today's digital meter world. Kintala's new shunt now resides in the battery compartment, wired into the ground side; with a pair of twisted wires running up behind the switch panel to the new meter. And I must add another THANK YOU to the guys here at Oak Harbor Marina. They lent me a hydraulic crimper for building up the 2 gauge wiring at the batteries.)

All in all a good day but, by the end of it, I was feeling these past months of relentless work deep in my aching bones. After discovering that the dinghy fits on the foredeck like it was designed that way Deb called the work day to an official close BEFORE the sun set; made soft tacos for dinner; and insisted that I relax and enjoy the evening.

That sounded like the best idea I have heard in a while.

Still trying

Yesterday was another disappointment. Not as much a one as finding a hole in the boat or the rudder falling off but I had started to think we might actually be on our way with the sunrise. Instead today stood every chance of being a long hard slog through another of Kintala's badly butchered systems. And it was.

But is was also a day of constant encouragement from old friends, new friends, and friends we haven't met yet. We were still working when the sun went down and, though the new battery monitoring system isn't yet complete, the wiring harness is run and Deb finished the new panel for mounting the thing. That may not sound like a lot to some, but anyone who has assembled and run a 5 wire harness (including a twisted strand for the amp meter) though the bowels of a 30 year old boat knows what kind of day we had. In addition Kintala's electrical system is (no surprise here) a botched up mess which slowed progress even more. Some of it just had to be fixed. Some of it was noted for later. Some I just tried to ignore.

There was one comment about my claim that any boat is worth less than half of what the current owner thinks. It will be worth closer to what he thinks after you fix all the things wrong with it; items he will insist are "minor". (After all, he didn't see a need to fix them; how important can they be?) "Minor" will include things like the bilge pump not pumping, half (or more) of the electronics being deep fried in their own smoke, running rigging shredding in the clutches, lights not lighting, and the head being, "like new, since we are day sailors and hardly ever used it".

I know sailors tend to wax romantic about their boats; that me saying that I hate mine flies in the face of thousands of years of sailing ethos. But I suspect there are more than a few who understand. Kintala can't be the only misbegotten witch wrapped in fiberglass and sailcloth, sulking along the shore, casting spells of places far away. And I can't be the only person lured into tangling with one. Some of those fights must have have ended with the sailor / mechanic / dreamer out of money, energy, time, and options. Maybe they recovered and, using hard earned wisdom from the first time around, made it.

Maybe they bought an RV or took up golf.

I wouldn't fault either. The one who comes back and tries again might prove his mettle. Then again one definition of insanity is doing the same thing over while expecting a different result. The one who bought the RV might have missed a chance to step up and succeed in spite of the odds, passed on the right to face the cosmos with an air of defiance. Then again he might be smart enough not to tilt at windmills. Either way both have earned the scars they carry.

Kintala has been a bitch of a boat; her pretty lines, glowing wood interior, and momentary flashes of sailing exuberance masking some poor design and brutally mangled systems; all made possible by an industry long on propaganda and short on quality control. Given what I know now it is actually a bit surprising we have gotten as close as we have to turning her into a safe, (marginally) reliable, home and cruising platform. My admiration for those who have gathered up a tired old boat and shoved it out into the ocean knows no bounds; and I am doing my best to join them.