Running on auto-empty

The deadline for heading West has been driving our days, with me really hoping to have the Auto-helm mod done before we set out. Adding to the fun was me making a serious visit to the state of unhealthy, a decline which matched the unfolding demise of the auto-helm mod. As I felt worse and moved slower, bits and parts in the attempt to mount the ST1000 on the port cockpit coaming bent, twisted, broke, and failed. On the first attempt to power up the unit the course read-out showed a heading of 81 degrees. Kintala is facing just about due south as she sits in the stands; something was seriously wonky. (And not just with my bits and parts.) As it turns out the ST1000 only “knows” where it is if it is sitting laterally across the boat. Since it is designed to drive tiller steering rather than being attached to the rudder via a wind vane, it made perfect sense that it would get lost if mounted longitudinally. Perfect sense, that is, after 3 ugly days of struggling to get work done when it was near impossible just to get out of the v-berth. Amazing how smart one gets when finally recognizing what is happening right in front of one's eyes, but that's what happens when running on empty.

So yesterday all previous work was scrapped (leaving several new holes in the cockpit that I need to fill) and a whole other approach had to be dreamed up. The good news was that, for the first time in days, I could actually function for hours at a time. They turned out to be productive hours. Today went even better and, even though there is a bit of touching up and final finish work to do, the circuit breaker on the panel marked “Autopilot” is now really wired to an actual auto pilot. All the access panels are closed, all the interior parts are installed, and the ST1000 can now sit across the stern of the boat on its very own, specially designed (and soon to be pretty) hardwood shelf; rigged to the Cape Horn. As soon as we get back – and it gets prettied up – I'm sure Deb will add some pictures. Getting that thing to fit in the narrow confines of a Tartan 42's stern was a bit of a challenge. And though it is clearly “after market” it doesn't look totally hacked. Even better, we don't need to buy a $465 remote to make it work.

There were still some struggles. The electrical plug provided so the unit can be easily removed is a seriously cheesy unit with tiny screws that barely hold the required size wire. I tried tinning the wire ends so the tiny screw could get a better "bite", but then the wire wouldn't fit at all. Fortunately I learned a long time ago to leave a little extra hanging out of the hole, just for such contingencies.

Then the instructions called for a certain size drill for the unit's mounting holes, all well and good except I was mounting it in fiberglass, not wood. Disassemble, re-drill,reassemble. Not a big deal but it was near the last task of the day. Though it was a much better day than the previous several, it was still a long one where I pushed pretty hard. Dealing with tinny little screws not quite up to the task and miss-sized holes, with feet dangle off Kintala's, narrow stern eight feet or so in the air, used up pretty much all I had to give for the day. But then Friends David and Nancy salvaged things by inviting us on an ice cream run after dinner. Ice cream will fix what ails ya ...

So, all in all, I am really pleased at how the last two days worked out; kind of a "just in time" thing. In twelve hours or so we should be with Daughter Youngest and Grand Kid 5, who are meeting us in Pittsburgh for a short Family visit. Then on to Indy to see Daughter Eldest and family for a short visit. Then to St. Louis to see Daughter Middle and family; get the condo on the market, and catch up with old friends at places like Lake Carlyle. Estimated time back to Kintala is six weeks. It will be a couple of more weeks on the hard after that, and then, finally, I'll get to see if the Auto-pilot works as well in the water as it seems to work on land.

The daily dose

If one followed my last post and the comments, particularly those of good Friend Robert, one would see a long discussion that focused on how, why, and how much, someone should be angry over this or that. Let me say that I dearly love Friend Robert's different world view, and that it is my deepest hope that we meet up at some anchorage someday, (preferably far from US shores) share a cold one or two, and debate until our hearts are content. But, be that as it may, I live on a sailboat. Anger is an infrequent visitor who can only breach Kintala's companionway when we are on the dock, in the US, with good Internet access. Only then do I get a daily dose of follies of human kind, particularly the follies of American / political / religious human kind. And, yes, I should know better than to check the news every morning. All I can plead is that old habits die hard. (Okay, I'll admit that a good wake hit from a passing boat or jet ski will provoke a word or two. But that is a short-lived bit of being incensed that comes with any display of stupid.)

In our normal world of living aboard, unaffected by the insanity that surrounds a life off the water, boat work goes on apiece. My big project at the moment is working through the ST1000 auto-helm install. No clue how long it is going to take since each step has to wait on the step before. An example is access to the transfer tube on the wind vane. We had none, though I should have thought of it as part of the original install. Yesterday was filled with sourcing a deck plate and installing it on the front face of Kintala's helm seat bulkhead. It went pretty well. In fact the frame fit in the hole cut on the first try, with no need of a rotary file to grind away the tight spots. So today was filled with trying to figure out how to hook the ST1000 to the control rod on the Cape Horn transfer tube. Several possibilities were explored. At this moment the thought is that mounting the ST1000 to the cockpit coaming and attaching it to the control rod via a push-pull cable, might (might!) be the way to go. Tomorrow we will take a harder look at making that work. If it does the whole auto-helm thing will be kind of cool, even if it does give clear evidence of back-yard engineering and make-it-work-with-what-you-got design.

Deb spent the day replacing the fabric cushion on our nav seat. The original was showing its age. The new, brown, Naugahyde cover has classed up the place considerably. Though probably an indication of my warped mind, I find working on a clean, good looking boat is easier than grunting away on one that looks tired and worn. Working through a list of projects will make any boat look like a refugee camp, but keeping the chaos factor to a minimum helps in making the work seem more worthwhile. At least it does for me. So Deb's nav seat cover, though an easy task that some might think kind of minor, goes a long way in keeping the “work-on-it-some-more” fires burning.

We have a week before leaving the boat on the hard, in the caring hands of Oak Harbor, and heading west. It is close enough that thoughts of seeing family, Daughters, and grand kids fill my day. Pretty much nothing will make me too angry when set against those images. The rest of the world can take care of itself for a while, and I hope to have the auto-helm pretty much done before we leave.

Important stuff ...

Deb did such a good job on the equipment review that I should just keep my mouth shut. (Yeah, like that's going to happen.) But I am going to touch on just one item, and I will say right up front that Deb completely disagrees with me. (Happens all the time yet she loves me anyway.)

I am not a big fan of our windvane. If I had to do it over again I would spend the money on an auto-pilot. The windvane holds a point of sail which sounds all well and good since (so we were told) the wind on open water is nice and steady, same tack for weeks, yadda yadda yadda. Our experience sailing down the coast and in the islands is that the wind swings back and forth through 15 to 25 degrees while gusting and fading 10 to 20 knots. (We sail for hours, not weeks.) The apparent wind is anything but steady and that is what a windvane sails to. It is cool that it doesn't make any noise, doesn't use any power, and doesn't have anything that cares about getting wet with salt water. But at $5000+, a seriously miserable installation process, the fact that it doesn't seem to work that well under sail, and doesn't work at all as an auto-pilot under power ... I'm not sure it was the right way to go. If you hit the lottery get a boat big enough for windvane (1) and auto-pilots (2) and live happily ever after.

On a more important matter I have been debating: if Spanish Wells is better with its $20 / day mooring ball than is Hatchet Bay with its $0 / day mooring ball. Spanish Wells is a clean little working town with a couple of places to eat, WiFi at the snack shop, store, very limited laundry; it's a good place for cruisers. Hatchet Bay is poverty stricken, trashed out, one really great bar with okay WiFi, a store with good prices (and questionable shelf times), a couple of shacks for food (which have been pretty good) a resort restaurant (which we haven't tried yet) and no laundry at all. The Bay of Hatchet Bay is really pretty, has more marine life in it than anywhere else we have parked, hasn't been very crowded, and is perfectly protected. Mmmm ... if Spanish Wells was $10 / day it would win, but we are both growing very fond of Hatchet Bay.

And both of us still like Treasure Key the best.

We will be here a few more days which may give us a chance to finish up a couple of projects. Slackerville still reigns but when the water runs out one must abandon the cockpit and hump some H₂O onto the boat. That got me all hot and sweaty so jumping in the water seemed a good idea. Unfortunately, that gave me a good look at Kintala's increasingly fuzzy bottom, so scraping and cleaning was in order. Deb joined in the fun but we ran out of energy long before we ran out of fuzzies to scrape. I trust the water will be just as clear and warm tomorrow and we can work on it some more.

Early next week the winds are supposed to give us a good ride to Nassau; first stop on the trip States Bound. By this time next month I am going to be very far away from enjoying the Islands Mon. I'm starting to miss it already and I haven't even left yet.