It Sucks

Boating with a vacuum cleaner is a necessity for us, especially since our dog Merlin learned to swim ashore and back to go potty.

At home we have a battery vac with a beater bar...Shark - 18 volts.

Sometimes we forget to recharge it, but that doesn't matter because we have 2 other battery vacs we can pick from...well 3 others if you count the stand up Dirt Devil Quick.

Why so many? Because you can't always count on your battery vac to get the job done.

The battery vacs boast about their volts - with the assumption that more volts is better. So for the boat we only use those with 120 volts -- that's right, the plug in kind, and we have 2. The smallest wet/dry vac we could find. Great for sucking up water/sand that dogs and other swimmers bring aboard.

And a small unit that doubles as a hand held and stand up vac with beater bar that always works when you plug it in, and works without compromise.

The little Eureka takes up almost no room when not in use, is used as a stand up vac for the carpeted floors and as a hand held for upholstery, and is of course bagless.

Merlin doesn't shed, but our daughter's dog Kasey does...really does. The Eureka makes quick work of his lost fur in both configurations.

Laid Back Cruise

With the upgrade to solid state ignition and new coil, and the new propeller with less pitch and the manual trim set to one notch more bow down, I was dying to get Big Duck out on the water to see what she'd do. Also, I'd had enough experience with help, that I was ready to try a splash solo.

It was a perfect day - expected to be sunny in the 60's. We left home for the 80 mile run to Lake Keowee a little before 1pm. There was little traffic on I85 & I26 and almost none on the HWY 11 50 mile part. The Duck is so well behaved behind the van that there is never a concern towing and with the electric brakes on the trailer stopping is outstanding. With the anti sway bar and load equalizing hitch we are seldom affected by passing semis and mountain road handling is superior.

We'd scouted all the ramps on Keowee without the boat on an earlier trip. Out of 8 or 9 ramps on the lake, there was only one ramp that looked good and it looked perfect - two lanes with a floating dock between them.

I still get a little flustered backing up the long trailer, but in a couple tries I had the trailer just above the water on the ramp. We prepped there as there was only a single empty trailer in the lot. About 15 minutes later, I backed her into the water enough so I could grab the docklines off the boat and tie her to the dock. Then back up to the van and a little farther in she goes. I walked through the van and unhooked the strap and safety line then back to the dock and pulled her off the trailer with the dock lines. Piece of cake really...

All systems performed flawlessly but even though our RPM's were up to 4,400 with the new 'less pitch' prop she still wouldn't climb out of the hole and only made 17 mph. We've got some work to do here, but this wasn't the time to worry about it so we just headed out onto the lake. It was a wonderful day for a cruise and everyone settled in.

The lake was a pussycat so I just kept her about 1800 and explored. My crew didn't last long with the soothing gently motion and inviting sounds of the water against the hull.

We knew we'd run out of daylight, but pushed it because things were so pleasant. We got back to the ramp just a little before sunset.

Getting her back on the trailer was a little more challenging than the launch. Tying up solo wasn't a slam dunk. It's easy to jump off the bow with a dockline, but keeping the stern close enough in the process took a couple tries. Then after putting the trailer in the water I realized I could pull Big Duck up onto the trailer with the dockline, and did, but before winching her up, I needed to raise the outdrive but I couldn't get back aboard - she was too far away from the dock. I walked through the van and out onto the trailer and was able to attach the winch strap. 'Got her up far enough on the trailer so I could get aboard over the bow and raised the drive. 'Winched her up the rest of the way and up the ramp  and off to home we went.

It's a little much for me doing a day trip, but this one was not only a joy but full of encouragement for future solo outings.

Now on to fuel tank extraction/replacement...

Downsizing

My wife picked out the microwave - 1000 watts, 1.1 cubic feet. It sits on the counter.

I wanted the counter space back, which meant relocating the microwave. But this one was sooo big and heavy. My sister got me an early Christmas present, a smaller unit. It strapped in on a homebuilt shelf above the dinette in otherwise unusable space.

I'm thinking this 600 watt job will be all we really need, but if not, I can always fill up the counter again.

I prefer the windup mechanical controls over the electronic ones - and there's no clock to set every time the power comes up.
I drilled a hole in the bottom of the locker above the microwave to send the plug to an outlet there. That area is 1/4" thick - solid glass!

And speaking of layups, this is a piece I cut out for an outlet in the dinette seat.

Scissors

I hesitatingly spent $16 on a pair of scissors for my wife... But darn are these things nice. They are actually called garden scissors and come with a sheath that has a built in sharpener. I liked them so much I bought a pair for myself.

I was rewiring Big Duck's batteries by using 2 gauge jumper cables (much cheaper than spool wire or welding cable). I used a hacksaw to cut the battery clips off one end to pull the wires through the bulkhead and rather than try the hacksaw again in close quarters I grabbed the scissors and easily cut that #2 cable to the correct length - much easier than the hacksaw or dykes.

I just might get another pair for the boat!

Throttle Confusion

When manuvering Big Duck in close quarters I generally like to leave the throttle alone and just work the steering and shifter. Big Duck has one handle to shift and one for the throttle. The trouble is I'm a little dyslexic and with the throttle at idle and the gearshift in reverse both handles are in the down position and more than once I have grabbed the throttle and shoved it up expecting her to go into neutral. I've had some close calls with the boat lurching backward instead of going into neutral.To add to the confusion, the handles on the flybridge are opposite to the handles below. Sooo, I put some fuzzy velcro on the throttle knob so I'll know as soon as my hand touches the handle, that I've got the wrong one.

Manatee Madness

Does this length include the bow sprit and swim platform or dinghy davits? 

Manatees are taught from birth to stay this side of marker 13 and 21.

Who decides where the channel is?

When you cruise these waters you need to keep your calendar handy

Caution Possible Wake Area

And would that be for the entire remaining ICW?

Where's my ruler? Are these national holidays or local holidays? What's with the white out?

OK, so if I'm pulling a skier with a single engine and I'm under 21' I can go 35, otherwise, slow speed minimum wake? If I have twins is it OK to leave one of them off?

Can you smoke seagrass?

Is that 50' from shore at high or low water?

I couldn't find 'Buffer Zone' in Chapman's.

I doubt I could even read this sign if I was 1000 feet from shore and does this include daylight savings time?

Florida waterway signs are for the birds.

More Electrical Gremlins

Turned the key on - nothing.

No problem...must be a fuse. I'll get it tomorrow. After all I did just replace the points in the distributor with a pointless module and used the remote start button to get her fired up for a test afterward, and hooked up the timing light...must have touched something I shouldn't have with one of the clips.

Next day I turned on the key again and the dash lit up. Hmmm, that's funny. Tried the key in the 'start' position and deadsville - the dash went out again. Off, then on and the dash lights up. Try the running lights and the dash goes dead. Switch to the other battery - same results. Try 'both' batteries - same results -- the dash would light up, but with any load would blink out. Verified that both batteries were full up from the on board charger - they were.

Jumped a fuse panel hot, to the key 'on' - same lights out results - not the ignition switch then.

Snugged all connections - on the 1, 2, both switch, both batteries, starter and all grounds. Still same results - lights out under any load.

So I run a jumper directly from the battery to the key switch and the start circuit lights up the mill. The dash and all the other circuits are functional. Damn, the wire feeding the switch must be bad and it will be a bear to trace...but why didn't the fuse panel hot make things work?

Put a VOM on the fuse block and get 12 vdc. Put the ignition to the on position and got 12 vdc. Turn on the running lights - deadsville - voltage drops out. So the fuse panel feed drops out with everything else.

Starting power, dash power, and fuse panel power all go back to the motor thru the main harness. Examine and clean all connectors of the main harness - no help.

Where does this main harness connect to the battery - ahah via the starter bus. The current goes from the battery to the starter and then to all on board circuits.

After checking all the wiring from the battery to the starter to the harness and finding everything good, I unplugged all the harness connections again, cleaned them and put them back together. Still no help.

What's left to check? Running out of ideas, I put a jumper cable from the battery directly to the starter solonoid, which is the connection to the main bus for the harness. Now the ignition switch made everything work! The problem was now isolated to the feed cable from the main battery switch to the starter.

I decided to replace both battery cables to the battery switch as well as the feed to the starter...figured I'd need about 30 feet of battery cable for the three runs. Checked the price of battery cables and even 6 or 8 gauge was a couple dollars a foot. Welding cable was even more. I settled on 4 gauge even though I 'd preferred something bigger but the per foot price made me explore different sources.

Then I discovered jumper cables. One auto store had a 20 foot pair of 2 gauge for $50. I cut the clamps off and soldered #2 3/8" copper fittings on the battery switch ends as well as the starter end of the feed. I have a crimper for this size and even though I know the crimp is preferred, I still did the solder...heat the fitting, fill it with solder, get it good and hot and stuff the bare #2 cable into the fitting of liquid solder...just seemed like the right thing to do.

So Big Duck is back in business!

Big Duck Bimini

I stumbled on a closeout on a 4 bow 8 X 6 Sharkskin bimini top - $130. I had a Sharkskin boat cover and loved it. The bimini kit was from Westland and included all hardware and a boot.

The instructions were a nightmare but I finally got it together by ignoring them. It's a great fit on the back of Big Duck.

Instead of the plastic brackets that screw to the deck/rail, I used stainless fittings from marinepartdepot.com. These allow placement of the pivot bracket anywhere along the rail without drilling holes as well as allowing the bimini to easily be repositioned for whatever reason.

Totally out of the way when not in use!

It's Pointless - To Upgrade Your Distributor

I thought I'd check the dwell and timing on my Volvo Penta 260A (Chevy 350). In researching the specs and tools I'd need (I'd long ago sold my dewll/tach and timing light), I discovered that a couple companies offered a kit to eliminate the points in the distributor. This would mean I'd only have to set the timing once - period. I would'n never again have to mess with points, condenser, dwell or timing.

Hot Spark and Pertronix both offered kits. Can't say why I chose Pertronix, but I did. It wasn't wasy finding the make of my distributor. I ordered the Prestolite kit and found it was the wrong one. I sent the Pertronix folks an explanation of my problem with pics, they were quick to respond and quick to make the exchange to a Mallory kit.

It takes about 1/2 hour if everything goes well. Pull the cap and rotor. Remove the plate holding the points and condenser. Install the new plate. Slip the Pertronix sleeve over the distributor lobes. Put the rotor and cap back on and connect the wires to the coil.

Before:

After:

 

Update 11/15/2013

The Pertronix crapped out. Had trouble starting, then rough running. Put the points back in and things got better. Then she started loping. Took out the Pertronix Flamethrower coil and problem solved. Will try an EST distributor next.

Bahamas Magic July 7-9 2000

Folks have asked me if Big Duck will ever make the run across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas. What do you think after reading this log entry from July 2000?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I saw a guy on the stage. He chained a girl in a small box, then pushed swords through the box in several places. Then he hid the box behind a curtain. When he removed the curtain, the girl was sitting on top of the box, unhurt. Another fellow made the Statue of Liberty disappear during a live show. This may be entertaining, but it’s not magic.

Magic is when you enter the Gulf Stream and the water changes to a color that defies description. Magic is when flying fish appear out of nowhere, skitter for 10 to 15 seconds above the wave tops and disappear. Magic is the way porpoise will accompany you for a spell on your journey across the Gulf Stream, and somehow you know they are welcoming you to their world. Magic is the appearance of an island after you’ve been staring into the infinity of the horizon for hours. Magic is being able to see a Bahamian sea shell the size of a quarter, on the bottom in 50 feet of water. Color you can only imagine, fish that fly, porpoise that communicate with humans, islands that appear out of nowhere, crystal clear water…this is magic.

My wife and I had been to the Bahamas often when we lived aboard our 27’ sailboat in the early 70’s. In ’77 we turned our back to the sea to raise a family ashore, but while Neptune relaxed his grip on us during those years, he never turned us completely loose. The call of the water is now stronger than ever. I answer that call with weekends aboard once a month and hopefully a longer adventure a couple times a year.

This adventure of magic began Friday morning, July 7^th 2000, at about 9:30. NICKY, a Seaswirl 1850 WA (cuddy cabin) powered by a 115 Ficht outboard motor, was packed and ready. Trailer wheel bearings had been checked, all lights on the trailer and ‘Old Green’, my ’72 Ford Pick-up, were functional and all tire pressures were brought up to spec.

Old Green has about 200,000 miles on her, but is still quite content pulling the 3,500 lb boat/trailer as long as I feed her premium gas. We get about 11 ½ mpg while towing with the air conditioner on. We made Manatee Pocket near Stuart FL a little after 1 o’clock  Saturday morning. I considered splashing NICKY, but decided against it - I just slept aboard in the parking lot at the ramp. I was up and on my way south a little after 6am on Saturday.

I completed the 723 mile run from home to the ramp at John Lloyd State Park at 8:25 Saturday morning. The ramp is just off the ICW (Intra Coastal Waterway) a mile or so south of the Fort Lauderdale Inlet. I splashed NICKY and meandered up the ICW past the old 17^th Street Bridge. It’s a new high level bridge now; I’ll miss the timers that used to advise boaters how many minutes until the next scheduled opening.

I tied up at the Lauderdale Marina small boat dock. I bought ice and asked the whereabouts of the Offshore Towing headquarters. I learned that the Offshore Towing office was right around back, upstairs. Before committing, I wanted to talk to them about venturing across the Gulf Stream to Bimini in an 18 ½’ boat. You can also file a float plan with them if you like.

The guys in the towing office were knowledgeable and friendly, and even though they said their antenna would pick up a VHF radio call from Bimini, and they occasionally tow boats back from there, they wouldn’t bless my trip. “So you don’t think it’s a good idea for an 18 ½ foot boat to make the run across?”

“Ehhhhhh,” was the reply.

“It’s only 60 miles. I could make it in a couple hours. What do you think?”

“Ehhhhhh,” was again the reply. “If you had a problem, you could get into trouble waiting for help if the weather turned on you.”

They were being cautious and polite. I don’t blame them. If I didn’t know me, I’d think I was crazy too. I told them that the NOAA weather forecast called for calm seas with the weather holding until tomorrow and that I’d run out the inlet and have a look.

“Ehhhhhh.”

The inlet was a pussy cat. The Gulf Stream was inviting. I went out 5 miles, turned off the engine and gave the boat a thorough going over. All systems were A-OK. Another five miles, another ‘boat check’ and another A-OK. I re-confirmed the favorable NOAA forecast.  The cell phone still had a faint signal…I called home at about 11am and left a message, “I’m going for Bimini.”

I took off the life jacket (always worn when running an inlet) and put it on the seat next to me along with the handheld VHF, cell phone and spare GPS. I was as ready as I’d ever be. I clipped the ignition kill lanyard to my belt loop. I patted NICKY and said, “Let’s do it!”

I set the GPS to ‘highway’ mode with Bimini as the destination waypoint. I could easily see when I was on the GPS defined road, and the arrow pointed in the direction to steer. This is the cat’s pajamas compared to the rigamarole we went through navigating on the sailboat to make the same passage. I put NICKY at 18 mph and settled in for the now 50 miles of open water.

In the next 10 miles I was passed by 2 boats. I fell in behind the second one and goosed the throttle to keep up. I’m not sure why, but being behind another boat was comforting. I questioned the feeling and decided it was a false comfort. If I did have a problem, I would simply fade out of sight in his rear view mirror. I slowed and watched him disappear into the horizon.

A few minutes later, I spotted something in the water up ahead. I diverted to see what it was. As I approached, I saw that although it was painted like a beachball, it was actually a flimsy vinyl balloon. I plucked it out of the water and put it below. I have an informal collection of stuff I’ve picked up while boating that includes fishing bobbers, boat fenders, even a duck decoy from an inland lake.

So I’m just getting her on a plane again after a 5 mile ‘boat check’, thinking about how I’m alone ‘out here’ when I hear a rustle and feel a nudge at my shoulder. I turn and see a girl’s eyes just inches from my face. “Holy S***!”

Then with another rustle, the beach ball balloon - with a women’s face on the other side of it - is whisked off the boat back into the water. I guess she just wanted to say, “Thanks for the lift.”

About 12:30 I spotted something on the horizon. “Well I’ll be damned,” it’s Bimini. It caught me totally off guard. What a rush - discovering an island in the middle of nowhere.

I don’t condone cruising without charts, but I usually do not have them, especially if I have a cruising guide. In this case, I had The Bahamas Cruising Guide by Mathew Wilson. I was using Mathew’s GPS waypoint for the Bimini landfall. I also felt comfortable with Mathew’s instructions for the Bimini approach. When I arrived at the waypoint, I could easily spot the range on the beach that was described in the cruising guide. I got on the range, crossed the bar and made my way slowly into Bimini harbor.

I anchored at the far end of the harbor as suggested in the cruising guide and knocked back an ice cold bottle of Bartles and Jaymes, Bahama Mamma which I had stashed in the cooler in anticipation of celebrating a successful passage. Man did it taste good, and man, did I feel good. Me, my little boat, Bimini, finally…this was the 3^rd attempt.

I have to admit, I don’t know much about the land side of Bimini. I didn’t go ashore. From the water Bimini is a paradox, a potential paradise with little substance. Small dilapidated buildings, no doubt  housing shops and bars if you’re into that. There don’t appear to be any of the lush hotels or resorts one normally associates with an affluent land based paradise. This was of no concern to me, because my paradise encompasses very little land side, but if your paradise is primarily land based, there is hope for you. Nearby Bimini Sands (http://www.bimini.com/) is under construction and already sports a few condos, swimming pool and a large marina. It would be a GREAT base for a Bimini holiday.

After about ½ hr of marveling at the cruising boats and fish in the clear waters of the harbor, I headed south to Gun Cay. There’s a little anchorage there called Honeymoon Harbor. It’s about 10 miles from Bimini to Gun, a journey I wasn’t in any hurry to complete - the Bahamian waters are so pleasant and inviting.

Honeymoon Harbor was crowded, but I had no trouble finding a place to drop the hook in about 18” of water. There were several large Sport Fisherman, many power cruisers and a couple water maggots in the anchorage, but I was undoubtedly the smallest boat there that had made the crossing on it’s own bottom. Sailboats had their own place, they were anchored on the backside of Gun in the more protected waters, but they didn’t have a nice beach. I did go ashore at Gun, I took some pictures from the beach, then went back aboard and made preparations for the return trip across the Gulf Stream. I wanted to get back across The Stream while the weather was so accommodating.

I left Gun about 2:45pm, heading toward Ft Lauderdale at 24 mph. It wasn’t long before I overtook a trawler. As I glanced at him astern, I noticed a Sport Fisherman coming up on me. As the Sport Stink came along side, I slid the throttle forward to match his speed. He was doing 30 mph. I gave it a little more gas, approaching 35 mph. As I pulled away from the Sport Stink, I realized that if someone wanted to feel comfortable by being near another boat, real comfort would be realized by being in front of, not behind, a companion. That way, if you developed a problem you’d have a chance to flag down the other boat as he passed. I slowed back to 30 but the Sport Stink lagged farther and farther behind. Maybe all he wanted was to get a look at me?

 I kept her at 30 mph. I felt like a Ski Do dancing on the tops of the waves, but when I did come down I came down easy and stayed dry. The feeling was pure exubilaration (exuberance/exhilaration), but a guy couldn’t accomplish much more than hanging on at this speed in a boat my size, even taking a sip from a can of pop was impossible. Nonetheless, I kept up the speed until I made the sea buoy at Lauderdale. The return trip across the Gulf Stream had taken a little over 2 hours. I did drop the speed back some to run the inlet. The wind had picked up and I had to negotiate some chop - but at this point a little spray in the face every now and then just added to the excitement. As I rollercoasted my way through the inlet, I was passed by an 80 foot pleasure boat – they were having drinks on the fantail, oblivious to the sea conditions. Size matters when comfort at sea is concerned.

The weather both going and coming had been perfect - I had not tasted sea spray once, or taken even a drop aboard the whole time over and back. There were no systems failures, the motor never missed a beat and nothing broke off, or fell off the boat. It was an ideal experience. Don’t be fooled though, it’s not always like this. There are nightmares out there as well as magic. An open water passage is never to be taken lightly. Also, I’ve got to mention the Bahamian sun, it’s different there. In the US, the sun has many other things to do than just shine. In the Bahamas, the sun’s only job it to find places on human bodies that haven’t been protected by sunblock. All day, every day, the Bahamian sun searches for places that you missed. Maybe it’s the top or inside of your ears, a small spot near your hairline, the bottoms of your feet, the inside of your nose, or your eyelids. If you miss even the tiniest place with the sunblock, the Bahamian sun will find it and toast it - guaranteed.

Once in the harbor, I made my way north up the ICW a short way to the shoal at the junction of the ICW and the New River. It’s a favorite spot of mine, right in the middle of everything including a respected no wake zone. I dropped the hook there, regrouped and knocked back the last ice cold bottle of Bahama Mamma.

You can’t be in Lauderdale without doing the New River. The New River is a boaters wonder. There are boats of all kinds moored along both sides of a 4 or 5 mile stretch. High dollar water front real estate, luxury boat builders and upscale repair facilities abound. There are also do it yourself yards and shacks along the way. It’s truly an amazing area. About 5 miles up, there’s an area void of development. I believe it’s a preserve of some sort. It was 7pm as I approached this quiet area. I dropped the hook and curled up below for a nap.

I woke up at 2am. Not wanting to miss an opportunity for a little night cruise, I brought the anchor aboard and lit up the outboard. I made my way back, at 5 mph in the dark. There was no other boat traffic; I had the river to myself. The glow coming from boat portholes, landscaping illumination and domestic lights add a whole new perspective to the area. And of course there are the stars. The smells are different too - the fragrance of flowers along the banks, the aroma of steak and ribs from the nightclubs and bars along the way, the smells of sawdust and fresh paint from new construction, and an occasional whiff of perfume from women holding drinks on the big yachts. Boating at night is rewarding, but it does have it’s challenges…the markers can be hard to see, the deep water can be elusive, and it’s hard to see floating obstacles. But if you keep the speed down and stay vigilant a nighttime cruise offers one of the great pleasures of boating.

I finally made my way back to my shoal at the junction of the New River and ICW and hooked out for the remainder of the night. I was up early and had the coffee water boiling before sunrise. I use those ‘coffee singles’, a one serving ‘tea bag’ of coffee that you put in boiling water. I’d been advised by Peggie Hall, Head Mistress of rec.boats, that the flavor is enhanced if you keep the cup covered while the coffee is brewing. I killed two birds with one stone by covering the brewing coffee in my styrofoam cup with a foil package of Pop Tarts. In a few minutes I had tasty steaming coffee and a warm toaster pastry. Believe me, Peggie is right on when she recommends keeping a cover on the brewing coffee. The used bags of coffee can be a nuisance to dispose of, so I just leave them in the cup and drink around them…then throw away the bags with the cup.

Hot coffee in hand, I watched the sunrise while exploring the floating real estate in Bahia Mar. It’s hard to believe anyone has enough money to buy and maintain one of those monster yachts, but there they are, row upon row of them. Bahia Mar is also the home of the Jungle Queen. The Jungle Queen is a tour boat that takes you along the New River. If you’re ever in Lauderdale without a boat, you must take this cruise. Even if you’re not a boater, you can still appreciate the scenery in Fort Lauderdale, “The Venice of America”.

By this time it was nearing 8am. John Lloyd opens at eight, and I knew even if I put NICKY back on the trailer before then, I wouldn’t be able to get out of the park, so I hadn’t been in a hurry to get to the ramp. Even now, I wasn’t ready to take NICKY ashore, but I motored into the little bay anyway, just to get a feel for activity at the ramp. I put NICKY’s bow on the beach across from the ramp, and tied a line to an overhanging branch. I enjoy watching people launching their boats and getting ready for a day on the water. Before I knew it, the cars/trailers were backed up about a quarter mile waiting for their turn at the ramp. I untied NICKY and headed south down the ICW to The Dania Cutoff.

The Dania Cutoff parallels the New River both geographically and scenery wise. The Cutoff is generally a little less upscale, a little shallower and a little narrower, but it has a charm of it’s own. In a small boat, you can follow the Cutoff inland to a point where it intersects with the New River. I’d done that loop on the last trip, but it wasn’t in the cards for today. It was getting time to be hitting the road for home.

Bu the time I got back to the ramp, all the morning boaters were well on their way. I had the place to myself. I had NICKY loaded and road ready in about 15 minutes. I was officially on my way back home at 9:45 am Sunday.

I pulled into my driveway in Spartanburg about 24 hours later - Monday morning at 9:20 am. It had taken a while to get home because I’d drive a while, pull over and crawl into the boat for a nap. Get up, drive a while, another nap…basically the same routine as when I’m on the boat.

It’s been suggested that all those road miles must be tedious and boring, especially since I don’t even have a radio in the truck. But my mind loves the unstimulated freedom. I contemplate and plan on the way down, and reflect all the way back. This is easily accomplished because I totally ignore all speed limit signs; I also never change lanes to pass - you hate me because I’m going 52 miles/hour, but I’m enjoying the trip.

The magic isn’t over just because I’m back home. On my way home I’ve planned another boating adventure – and the magic begins again in the preparation for that voyage.

Would I cross The Stream alone again in a small boat?

I’ll go if you will.

Nick in Spartanburg, SC

Land miles = 1,423

Car gallons = 123.3

Boat miles = 158.1

Engine hours = 12.1

Boat gallons = 30.9

‘Old Green’ at John Lloyd Park in Lauderdale                       NICKY at Honeymoon Harbor - Bahamas

Recreational Refrigeration

I've never been fond of the little 12/120 volt refrigerators found in RV's and boats...they maybe work OK on 120 but when they get switched to 12vdc they eat batteries. We had one, a Norcold, on a sailboat in the Caribbean. We kept our drinks in it and we pretended the drinks were cold when we took them out of the fridge, but we all knew the difference in temp was only 5° or so and if we wanted them any colder we'd have to run some kind of motor. I called it "The Nearcold".

We have one of these little refrigerators on Big Duck and it does work on 120, even makes ice - not bad for a 40 year old unit. But I don't trust it to leave enough juice in my house battery to light my way to the head at night, not to mention that running a battery dead is the quickest way to shorten it's life. I considered one of those fancy $1,000 units that can be set to be either a refrigerator or freezer -- they're supposedly efficient and reliable, but I can buy a lot of ice for a grand.

Then my brother-in law Trey, asked, "Why don't you just get a small chest freezer?"

Hmmmmm. The boat is always plugged in at home. We could put several gallon jugs of water in the bottom of the small chest and they'd be block ice in no time. And we have the generator which we run regularly for heat and air conditioning to give it a jolt every now and then...

So I got on the Walmart site and ordered an Danby 3.6 cubic foot freezer chest. It has a 22 X 24" footprint and stands 33" high - a great fit for the aft deck. It will take up less floor space than the cooler it's replacing.

I put an inside/outside thermometer on it to see how long it takes to bring the temp down. In two hours it was reading about 10 degrees.

So - we'll freeze some gallon jugs in her while she's at the house and figure how to make the most of this $160 unit next time we set out.


More about the freezer experiment here.

Houseboat Charter - Caroline

Chartering Caroline

I'd sold my trawler and had been between boats for quite some time. I
thought I'd see if I could get a couple guys together to charter a trawler.
The original crew of 3 soon turned to 4 and then to 6 beside myself.

Withthe larger than planned crew, 'we' sought a boat more accommodating than a
trawler – 'we' settled on a 47' Holiday Mansion Houseboat for 4 days & 3
nights.

This was turning out to be a far cry from the leisurely trawler cruise I
had in mind, and I agreed to follow through only if the 'crew' agreed to
take turns at the helm. All that would be required of me would be to know
the way to the marina when it was time to head home. "OK…Sure, No
Problem," was the unanimous cry from the enthusiastic 'crew'.

We arrived at the marina well before noon, hoping to begin our adventure
early in the day. The fellow at the marina told us the boat had just been
serviced and pronounced in excellent condition. He gave us a quick tour
and then proceeded to show us how to lite up the twin 454's…except the
batteries were dead. Using jumper cables, there was no configuration of
engine batteries and or the generator battery that would bring any of the
internal combustion engines to life. After 30 minutes on the charger the
stronger battery still wouldn't crank that big 454, and after trying the
charger for 30 minutes on the other battery with no luck, we waited while
they installed a brand new battery on one of the engines. The second
engine was started by jumping it off the new battery, as was the generator
– "Those weak batteries will come right up after you run the engines for
awhile".

The fellow at the marina then brought the boat around to the fuel dock
where we loaded her up. Unfortunately, we turned off the mills while we
were getting our gear aboard and had to jump the second 454 from the new
battery to get both engines running. The generator wouldn't respond to
jumping and the mechanic was called. The generator was brought to life
before we departed, but none of us knew what had been done to get it
running.

"OK, who is taking her away from the dock", I inquired?

"You are!" they all responded.

"I thought you all agreed I wouldn't take a turn at the helm?" I reminded
them.

"We lied!", was the retort.

They each grabbed a beer and I took the wheel (I didn't drink at the time). The first
thing I did as helmsman was to fetch the duct tape from my ditty bag to
secure the broken windscreen that was flapping in the breeze. We toured the
Beaufort waterfront before heading out the inlet to Cape Lookout. I
insisted that someone else take the wheel as we steered for the bight.
It didn't take my study long to learn to steer the visual course toward
Power Squadron Spit. I went below to check the bilges, then pulled the
hatches to make sure everything was OK in the engine compartment. I nearly
ended up on top of one of the engines as the boat lurched forward, the
engines winding up, up, up. I dashed up to the flybridge to see what had
happened. The fellow at the wheel still had his hand on the throttles,
encouraging them to move beyond their high speed stop. This fellow became
known as Redline; you couldn't trust him to run at any speed less than wide
open.

We dropped the hook in the bight and backed down on the Danforth. She
fetched up with a snap that convinced me we were secure. After a time on
the beach, they settled in for beer, steak and then videos of, well, what
videos would you expect from a bunch of guys. They passed the cell phone
around for everyone to call home, but the phone soon got cantankerous and
had to be smacked before it would call out. Hot showers for all, then it
was time to turn in. But wait, the lights in the head quit working before
the last shower. I found if you hit the bulkhead near the switch, the
lights would go on. I placed the cell phone near the switch – that way you
could hit the bulkhead with the phone and you'd get both light and a dial
tone.

I ended up in the forward berth, in the foc'sl, down a half flight of
stairs just shy of the chain locker – there was room for two of us down
there. There was ankle deep water on the floor; I took off my shoes and
pulled the bilge pump. It worked fine after I removed the glob of hair
from around the intake. We had our own head, and I was awakened at about
3am because it would fill, but it wouldn't empty. My cabin mate had tried
to use it and ended up flooding the cabin sole with the (solid) contents.
I found the intake and closed it, then fiddled with the controls until I
got the head to pump dry.

I never miss coffee at sunup, but there were bodies all over the main
salon, so I waited until the 'crew' came to. After a leisurely breakfastwe decided to haul in the anchor. The windlass slipped so badly itwouldn't even move the boat up to the anchor. I discovered that the bow roller assembly had fallen off during the night (into the water) and the
rode was dragging directly over the glass deck. The rode came aboard
through a small opening at the bow – the only option was to grab the rode
and manually haul it in over the rail. I hesitated to use the engines with
5 guys pulling on the line (the 6th taking videos).

I could have had them tie it off to a cleat, but there were no cleats substantial enough to put up much resistance, so we just manhandled the anchor in. We considered
just cutting the rode to allow us to get under way, but there was only the
single anchor. It took us over an hour to get the anchor aboard.
Gorgeous day, flat seas…the Crew asked if we could take her out to see the
Gulf Stream. "Why not?", they whined. I finally consented to heading
offshore a few miles.

They took turns keeping her on the 'highway' presented by the GPS (which I
extracted from my ditty bag) as we made our way to the waypoint a couple
miles offshore. I turned the helm over to Redline when a crew member came
up requesting my presence below…something about water in the forward berth.
I took off my shoes and socks and rolled up my pants in preparation for
clearing the bilge pump again, only this time there was no clog, and the
water was now approaching shin deep. I checked to see if the head was
overflowing and turned off the intake valve just in case. After checking
the opening ports (one of which was not dogged), I finally discovered the
real source of the water when I opened the hatch to the chain locker and
could see water gushing in at the joint between the lower hull and the
upper (houseboat) hull. No worries mate – just get Redline off the helm
and slow down enough to keep the bow wave out of the joint.
I almost had a mutiny on my hands when I ordered a 180. Besides the leak,
I had shown the crew that while burning 50+ gallons an hour, if we did make
the Gulf Stream, we'd run out of fuel long before we got back to port.
They seemed to be able to live with the leak and the possibility of running
out of fuel... it wasn't until they discovered that the cell phone had
totally given up the ghost AND we were out of water for showers that we had
a unanimous vote to return to port.

Guess who was elected to bring her in to the gas dock? We took on a couple
hundred gallons of gas and filled up the water tank(s). Hey, we were now
set for our second nite. Better check the oil in the engines though, just
to be on the safe side. The port engine took 4 quarts of oil (the stbd
engine only took two). And the generator wouldn't start. We messed with
the generator control panel for about half an hour with no results. I
finally opened up a pair of pliers, putting one handle on the battery cable
and the other directly to the starter on the generator and Wallah!, she lit
up and we had 120VAC. Oops, not quite ready to cast off…a couple guys
still needed to call their honey back home, but in only a matter of hours
we were on our way up the ICW to the Neuse.

We flawlessly negotiated the ICW to the Neuse River Junction off Maw Pt
Shoal, then headed back to Cedar Creek to drop the hook. We anchored
successfully, using a type IV cushion to protect the rode from chafing on
the rail. Dinner was shrimp kabobs marinated in Italian dressing; cooked
outside on the charcoal grill – delicious.  

We were the obnoxious guys y'all talk about in the anchorage, being loud, boisterous and running the genset all night.

With the previous experience (the morning before), we had the up anchor
routine pretty well under control. In no time we were leisurely making our
way back south down the ICW, ending up at the Beaufort Inlet. We started
out the inlet, to go back to Cape Lookout, but the inlet was rough and we
decided not to test the integrity of the leaky joint, so we turned back.
Redline took us back in, bouncing us over every wake. We decided to have a
nice leisurely look at the Beaufort waterfront – considering perhaps a trip
to Lookout via the inside route past Harkers Island. I insisted on idle
speed in Taylor Creek and took the helm myself to ensure we were courteous
and proper to other boaters in this confined space. As we passed the post
office, the fellow sitting next to me on the flybridge asked me if I
smelled something. I said, "yes, it smelled like macaroni and cheese."

Then the smell got acrid and stronger. I pushed my buddy in front of the
wheel, dashed down and threw open the engine hatch – nothing. As I was
closing the hatch I heard a cry from the cabin, "FIRE!"

I turned around to see a foot of black dense smoke at ceiling level. There
were two guys in front of the stove as I hurriedly approached, one of them
moving a large (trash can type) container up toward the flaming stove top.
I jumped in behind him and grabbed the container to help him pour the
contents on the fire. The container was in fact a trash can, full of
papers and garbage. To this day I don't know what plan he had for that
container… Anyway, another crew member approached from forward, picking up
a fire extinguisher on the way. As he emptied the contents on the blaze I
searched for another extinguisher. There were none in the aft area, but
another guy found a second extinguisher and discharged on the blaze –
extinguishing it.

The stove was a disaster, the curtains were totaled, the coach roof was a
black mess and the floor was covered in extinguisher powder, but no one was
hurt.

"That's it! Cruise over!" I exclaimed. While we waited for the bridge to
open to get back to the marina, they began cleaning up the mess. We needed
a little more clean up time as we approached the fuel dock, so I lazily
circled while they worked below. All of a sudden, one of the crew flew
onto the flybridge and jammed the portable VHF in my face.

"It's for you, it's for you," he said guiltily.

I took the VHF and listened as the caller said, "Caroline, Caroline, this
is the marina, do you need some help?"

The guy next to me said, "They must have seen the smoke."

I told the marina we were just getting ready to bring her back in. He
said, "OK", and was there to take a line as I approached.

It was my card which was used to guarantee the security deposit -
$1,000…and my crew helpfully suggested that I get a lawyer, or take other
similar actions rather than surrendering the money. But they
all did chip in their share when I didn't get anything back.

There are many, many lessons here – I'm sure I don't need to point them all
out. But I will make one suggestion:
Know the location of all the fire extinguishers on your boat, and through
practice fire drills make the fire procedure second nature.

And for extra credit – answer the following:
What did Nick tell the Crew when they asked if they could do it all again
next year?

Fairwinds,
Nick in Spartanburg, SC