Dreaming of Dodgers

Not the Dodgers, I’m probably more of a Mariners fan, but dodgers, the fiberglass or canvas enclosure installed on a sailboat to help you “dodge” wind, rain and waves.  Sojourn’s dodger is in pretty sad shape.  It has a flimsy aluminum frame and vinyl windows which were opaque long before joining our family.

I got a quote to have some new windows and zippers put in it, but it came to $400.  I just felt that was too much to put in to a faded old piece of canvas with and inadequate frame.  So, I decided to fix it myself. I managed to get one of the three windows replaced before destroying my wife’s sewing machine. 

Now I needed a sewing machine and a dodger.  I went to the only sewing machine store within my radius of traffic tolerance, generally Mukilteo, Everett and Lynnwood.  They took one look at my dead machine and said “yeah, plastic frame.  We only recommend those to people who want to dip their toe in the proverbial sewing water.”  She pointed me to the machine that “all boat owners buy,” a Pfaff Select 3.0. At $600, I was going to be the exception.  I had read the blogs and Don Casey’s book, which all said that you could do all of the canvas work you wanted with a $150 classic all metal sewing machine, but with no experience, I couldn’t bring my self to buy one on Ebay without touching it. 

I talked her into showing me a very simple $200 metal frame sewing machine. I brought in some canvas to test it.  After playing with that for a while, she had me sew a piece of silky delicate material to the end of my folded piece of canvas with the Pfaff.  I could feel $600 evaporating from my wallet as the walking foot climbed from the delicate silk to several layers of canvas without a hick up.

One of the other problems with Sojourn’s dodger is that it is at exactly the wrong height. Standing on the cockpit floor, I have to duck or stand on my tippy toes to see forward.  I’ve read that it is favorable to be able to look over the dodger.  I can’t go up and still fold the dodger because it will interfere with the traveler.  Going down would mean bonking my head even more frequently.  Sojourn has a tiller, so when I’m sailing, I’m sitting on the combing anyway, so I started looking at concepts that left the dodger up all of the time, only removing the panels when I would otherwise want it down.  This got me to thinking about a hard dodger.

With a couple of notable exceptions, most of the DIY hard dodgers I’ve seen are hideous. They are out of proportion and not matching the style of the rest of the boat. Many could easily be bested in workmanship by your average high school shop class.  There are also a couple of professionally manufactured fiberglass ones that are out of my price range, but look great, Wavestopper being one of them.

I found one photo of one hard dodger in particular, in a gleaming red and white color scheme much as Sojourn’s.  I played around with several variants, all of them too complicated with compound curves.  I’m sure they would be beautiful, but it would require a fiberglass mold and more work than I’m willing to invest.

To be candid, looking at Wavestopper got me thinking about a single curve dodger and plywood.  I’m not sure why he builds them that way as it sounds like he uses a mold.  Perhaps his mold is made from plywood.

My plan is to laminate two pieces of 3 mil Okoume plywood into shape, glass the top and bottom and finish with either one or two part polyurethane. I intend to use 5200 to bond a bolt rope track to the edges to attach the canvas.  I’ve read that it can be used to permanently bond canvas to itself and generally permanently bond anything.

Here is the current concept.  I have the luxury of working with CAD in my daily job so drawing this up and was done in an evening.  The outer curves have a 12 inch bend radii.

Working with Bristol Finish

My wife read my post entitled A super model with shaved eyebrows and with a laugh, suggested that she liked a Hooker with Painted eyebrows better.  As Sojourn is something of a mistress, I guess I have to put up with some jealousy.  Either way, Sojourn's makeover is progressing.

I’ve started refinishing the bright work and selected Bristol Finish.

For those where I was a few months ago, there are basically 4 types of “varnish”.  The first is actually just oil.  Rebecca Wittman would tell you it isn’t an exterior finish and I agree with her.  The second is varnish.  It typically lasts a season, more or less depending on your UV exposure necessitating at least annual maintenance.  There are two formulations of this, interior and spar, the latter having UV resistance and generally a softer, more pliable finish.  It is easy to apply, easy to fix and easy to remove.  Some have suggested epoxy based finishes as a third, but I couldn’t find any evidence that its UV resistance was up to the challenge and it is more difficult to remove.  Finally, Urethane.  There are two categories, single part and two part catalyzing.  The first is often what you get when you buy varnish at the hardware store and aren’t paying attention. The two part is much like the two part urethane paints, but with very little pigment.

Why Bristol?  After spending almost a year reading blogs, reading Rebecca’s Bright work Companion and following Practical Sailor’s two year wood finish tests, I found a lot of conflicting information and even more conflicting options. In the end, Practical Sailor’s report that that it was the leader in their tests in New England, which should have a climate more representative of the northwest than Florida and the fact that the only derogatory comments I could find on the blogs came from 2005 and earlier and the prospect of going several years without re-doing made the decision for me.

And the results – when they say Amber, they mean it.  I think it is beautiful, but I was shocked at how amber it is.  Ben, who coincidentally refinished some of Triumph’s bright work the same week said it is the same color as the Cetol, but much shinier. In three sessions, I put 6 coats on.  Between the second and third coats I sanded lightly, otherwise all coats were within 24 hours of each other.  I probably only have 5 hours into the actual application, and most of that was waiting. I was able to coat the combings, the companionway frame and engine panel frame. 

I found that vertical surfaces were somewhat difficult and tend to run.  Horizontal surfaces tend to come out amazing.  Foam brushes make for more bubbles, but less runs.  In the end, I’ll likely put the last coat on with a bristle brush, but I might try rolling and tipping. 

My biggest complaint at this point is that it runs pretty easily and runs build on runs.  If you look at it an angle it is full of runs.  I seem to recall the instructions giving the practical method of doing exactly what I did and then sanding for a final top coat.  In my case it will likely be a maintenance coat next year as I tackle the hand and toe rails.  One other complaint is that it is so shiny, I can’t tell dry from wet.  I had paint section by section, placing my cup at the end of each section to help make sure I got it all.  I suppose that is a good thing.

I washed the teak with a scrub brush and oxalic acid, let it dry then sanded with 180 grit and my palm sander.  I didn’t get to the root of the grain, which had a small amount of weathered gray, but would have had to remove a lot of wood to do so.  I then wiped with acetone and used a bristle brush for the first 2 coats, foam for the 2nd two and a brush for the final two.  The brush is easier to control runs with, but much more prone to bubbles.

In the final, (well, almost done, protected for winter anyway) analysis, I’m quite happy with the result.  From 5 feet away, it is fantastic.  Sojourn went from a tired old woman to mistress with a new lease on life with a few brush strokes.

A Supermodel With Shaved Eyebrows

Sojourn’s eyebrow rails are in dire need of attention.  Until recently I believed they were the source of water ingress into the cabin; now, I’m not so sure.  Most of the holes on the starboard side don’t fully penetrate the cabin top. The port side is worse but I haven’t gotten to that side yet.

I was discussing my options with Ben, who owns a beautiful Mason 43.  He introduced me to Marinetex and suggested a couple of options.  I could remove them and  fill the holes.  I could install new rails, finished in the garage and “glued on” with 4200, thus removing any water ingress path or to reduce maintenance,or I could replace them with a stripe to match the cove stipe. 

He had previously had the same dilemma with his boat, but decided that without the rails,“Triumph” would look like a super model with shaved eyebrows.”  It just wouldn’t fit.

Sojourn is no supermodel, but I’ve decided she’d look somewhat plain with out something. I’m still trying to decided which way to go

Baby Steps

The Milltown Sailing Association, of which I’m now a member and newly minted racer had it’s annual Oak Harbor Challenge last weekend. It is a cruise and sailboat race between the two clubs held, this year, in Oak Harbor.  My kids are too young, and not wanting to scare the older passengers (mom) with excessive heel angles, we went for the cruise, but skipped the race. I’m sure that had I participated, Mill Town would have successfully defended the cup – perhaps next year.

As preparation for our first overnighter as a family, we spent the night on Sojourn in her slip the weekend before. It may seem silly if you don’t have kids, but with a family of five, kids ranging from three to seven, routine is not to be dismissed.  Potty routine, bed time routine, feeding and all of the other routines are important.  Breaking them can have consequences.  Just imagine three days on the water with a cranky three year old missing her favorite stuffed puppy.  Or worse, no stuffed puppy and no cork screw!

Carrie had some things to do, so the girls and I headed up to the marina to start the adventure. One of the things I’ve enjoyed about sailing is the friendly people.  My slip neighbor Travis, whom I had just met, lent me a dinghy for the summer.  The girls and I took it for a row to Jetty Island.  I’m happy to report that we survived our test trip and that it was helpful.  We would have survived without it, but we generated a list of several little things that Sojourn didn’t have.    

So, the big day arrived and we set out for Oak Harbor, a 24 nautical mile trip from Everett.  Under ideal conditions it’s about 4.5 hours to get there.  As is often the case,our planned noon departure time turned into three o’clock. By 4:30 had been under sail for an hour and were starting to unwind, but I came to the realization that at current speed we wouldn’t make Oak Harbor by midnight let alone dinner time.  In fact, we wouldn’t make it until nearly dusk, motoring all the way.  I called the Langley harbormaster, who had an open slip, so we made reservations and enjoyed another hour under sail. 

This turned out to be a great decision.  I’d been to Langley before, but this was the first trip with the kids.  Langley is town with a small harbor on the west side of Saratoga Passage.  Fish abound around the pilings, star fish adorn the sea wall at low tide and it hosts a myriad of other fascinations to a family of newly minted cruisers.

We had dinner at a Prima Bistro in town.  It was suggested to us by some locals, because their menu was sensitive to special dietary needs.  My kids might be the pickiest ever conceived, so eating out at a new place while meeting everyone’s real dietary needs is always a challenge. They did indeed cater to special needs. We ordered calamari, which was fried in chick pea flower, so it is gluten free. It might be the best we’ve ever had.  We told our kids that they were a special kind of chicken nugget. Jack declared he didn’t want the “coral-ey” ones as all three gobbled them down in blissful ignorance.

The next morning, we woke up to calm seas, light fog and a low tide.  Of the hundreds if not thousands of toys and pieces of toys that fill our house to the brim, non has provided more mystery and entertainment than the back shell of a Dungeness crab, no longer needed by its owner.  For about an hour, all three buried, un-buried and re-buried it without ever mustering the courage to actually touch it.

After an omelet on the crotchety old kerosene Shipmate stove and some coffee, we set out for Oak Harbor on water more suitable for skiing than sailing.  The kids were not quite used to the new routine and were missing their video games and television, so it wasn’t all smooth sailing.  Sojourn’s new engine didn’t miss a beat and I was happy both to get some hours on her just to build confidence and to boil any accumulated water out of the crank case.  About 8 miles out, the wind started to build out of the north west, so I uncovered and hoisted the sails.  Within minutes it had built to about 10 knots and we were under sail, free of the droning diesel we’d grown used to over the last 4 hours.  We settled into a nice close reach making 5.5 knots, gently heeled over.  That peaceful last hour was gone in what felt like an instant and we found ourselves heading up a channel full of sailboats going the other way – the race was on.  We waited for them to pass, headed into the wind and furled the sails. After tying up at Oak Harbor, I couldn’t find the bottle of wine.  Upon further investigation, my wife confessed that the kids were on her nerves and she had found a cork screw.

Regrettably, there were no other kids on this cruise due to it being a racing cruise, but we found other sources of entertainment.  Once tied up and waiting for the racers to come back, we tried a little fishing.  I had a can of brightly colored power bait or something like it and Jack wasn’t having any success fishing.  A 9 year old came along and asked why we weren’t using muscles.  He reached down under the dock, pulled up a handful of muscles, crushed one, pulled out its “heart”, set it on the hook and within minutes jack had a fish.  Like I said, we are newly minted cruisers.  I convinced Jack that it was a right of passage to kiss your first fish.  Jack spent the next several hours trying to muster the courage to touch one and talking various bystanders into baiting his hook for him.

After hamburgers with the racers, we turned in.  The next morning we got news that Carrie’s grandmother wasn’t doing well, so we said fair well and cast off making breakfast under way.  There was little wind, and what wind there was taunted me.  We motored almost all the way home, dead into the wind. Occasionally it would shift and whenever the wind vane would show enough apparent angle to get some thrust out of the sails, I would hoist them.  It only panned out for perhaps 20 minutes of the whole trip.  Almost the minute I would them it would shift back to dead ahead or even across the bow.  I left the main up while we motored for about an hour, giving me perhaps a quarter knot.

The ride home was peaceful.  The kids seemed to lose site of the games and television and just enjoy themselves. Unlike the trip up there were one kid always seemed to delight in the other squealing, they got along just fine.  I know they wouldn’t call it Disney World, but if my aim is achieved it will be the first of many fond memories.  As for Carrie, I am encouraged as I overheard her tell one of the fellow cruisers that she hopes for a bigger boat someday. As I write this, I’m sitting in the shade on the north shore of lake Winnebago watching with envy, a sailboat work its way toward amongst the beginnings of white caps.  

Ludicrous Speed

Since repowering Sojourn, I’ve taken it easy, rarely getting above 2000 RPM.  My knot meter isn’t working and was never calibrated, so I don’t actually know how fast that pushes her – perhaps 3.5-4 knots, obviously just shy of light speed.  Yesterday Annie and her friend Loren were begging to go to Jetty Island.  We only had about an hour and it’s about a half mile each way, so light speed was going to be too slow.  The river was calm, so we tied every thing down, took our seats and pushed Sojourns power lever all the way forward to, yes, ludicrous speed.

Up river, the GPS settled on 5.5 knots.  20 minutes later, it settled on 7.3 knots on the return course. So, ludicrous speed averaged 6.4kts on the GPS with the engine turning 3500-3600 RPM and no evidence of soot or smoke.  So for Islander 30 MKII and Bahama owners with Beta 14’s, if any others exist, here is a data point for you.

Incidentally, this sinks the transom to the point that the exhaust fitting, which is normally 4-5 inches above the water line, is completely submerged.  The Beta 14 came with a 2:1 ratio gear box and is spinning a 13X8 2 blade Michigan Sailor prop. 

Musty Old Boat With a Hint of Lemon

Well that lasted about a week.  Actually two, but about two years less than I was hoping for.  It was warm on Sunday and Sojourn’s cabin was about 80 degrees.  I opened the companion way and was greeted with the familiar odor of musty old boat with a hint of diesel, albeit with slightly less diesel and a hint of lemon.  

I’m dismayed to report that lemon oil was very short lived.  The faded color of the wood has largely returned as well.  Hopefully Rebecca Whitman's advise on this will be better than Don Casey’s.  That said, the lemon oil took about an hour.  Proper oiling will take a lot longer. I guess you get what you work for.

A New Twist

I’ve been playing with sail trim trying to get to know my boat. If you read my post entitled A Lesson Learned, a Sojourn Survived and are an experienced sailor, you probably realized that part of my problem was that my sails were out of trim as evidenced by massive amounts of weather helm.  I’ve since discovered, at least with some combinations of reefing, head sail and trim, that Sojourn is well balanced, resulting in very light tiller forces.

In my experimenting, I’ve observed the phenomenon of sail twist, or more accurately induced sail twist to improve flow over my sails.  I’ve never fully appreciated until I put “tell tales” on my shrouds. 

What exactly is “sail twist?”  Sail twist is intentional twisting of the sail to account for the phenomenon of apparent wind direction being different at the head then at the foot of the sail. This is a result of the true wind speed being greater higher up than at the water surface.  In other words, the wind appears to be blowing in a different direction at the top of the mast than down at the boom.

Click on the picture, zoom in if you need to, to find the wind vane and compare the direction it is pointing to the direction the tell tale is blowing. If you can’t find it, the wind vane is  pointed directly abeam, precisely parallel with the spreader.

Crab N Sail

The family counselor of a friend once said that in his experience, boats are the single best family-centric activity there is.  With that in mind, and a decade of living right next to Puget Sound never having taken advantage of it, we bought Sojourn back in November.

This spring I repowered over the course of a couple of months and, sadly, as I occasionally drug the kids up to the boat while I finished the repower, it did not endear them to the boat.  In fact, to my 7 going on 17 year old, boating and boring are now synonymous. 

I have it in my head that fishing is a fun and patience building experience for kids.  Why? I have no idea. In my experience with fishing, it is aptly named.  I see and know others who actually catch, but I seem to just fish.  So I had a bright idea to take the kids fishing on the boat.  A friend advised me, “just put a piece of hot dog on a hook with a sinker and drift the south shore of Hat Island.  You can’t fail.”  Apparently I can.

Fortunately as we approached July, we also came upon crabbing season, and another opportunity.  On Saturday, I bought all of the gear for two pots.  At the risk of sounding like I know what I’m doing, we are almost ideally situated for crabbing and sailing.  One popular crabbing spot is basically a quarter mile outside of the marina.  My hope is that it will be convenient to toss a couple of pots on the way out whenever we go sailing. 

On Saturday, we had a short afternoon window,  so we motored out to the crabbing area, dropped anchor and pots and just enjoyed the sunshine. We pulled the first pot and got two small crabs.  This was promising.  We pulled the second, which also had two – both over 6-1/4 inches.  One turned out to be a female and the other very tasty! And, I think I’ve started to turn the tide on the perception of our boat. 

Jack and Annie spend hours delighting in the various aspects of the crabbing experience. Annie desperately wanted to keep it for a pet.  Jack got to “help” clean it.  They both spent about an hour trying to muster the courage to pick up the shell. 

Lemony Fresh

Since day one, as I step down Sojourn’s companion way, I am always greeted with the unpleasant odor of well…… musty old boat with a hint of diesel.  Sojourn is 36 years old, leaks like most 36 year old boats, and her tired old MD7a leaked from every place imaginable, so I guess this shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

I’ve changed out the leaky old Volvo, flushed the bilge and washed the interior with simple green.  It all helped a little, and has been getting better over time, but it still was not satisfying. A couple of weeks ago, I bought a copy of This Old Boat by Don Casey.  In there he suggested wiping down the interior woodwork with plain old lemon oil.

Why not?  I found some Formby’s lemon oil at my favorite neighborhood hardware store and wiped down every piece of wood, oiled or varnished, on Sojourn’s interior. Then next day, I opened the companion way and Voila! Like changing a painting, musty old boat with a hint of diesel has been replaced with Grandma Audrey’s den. 

It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it is a fantastic improvement. I had been planning on varnishing the interior and hadn’t given much thought to what it would do visually. I wasn’t  really expecting much of a transformation, so I didn’t take before photo’s.  It was such a striking difference that I did snap a couple of quick after photos.  If it stays, I’ll likely not bother with the varnish.

 

Sojourn to Langley

Every year, there is a day when spring arrives for me by way of a odor.  It usually happens in April, and usually in the early evening after a day or two of warm dry weather. It isn’t a flower like fragrance, or the odor of cut grass, just spring. Earthy is the closest adjective that comes to mind and after being tormented by La Nina for months, it finally happened.

A warm breeze fanned the marina from the northwest.  Crescent shaped kites danced over Jetty Island. Baby blue skies with soft haze filled the sky.  As we pulled into the marina, I was again mentally rubbing my hands in anticipation of a great day sailing. Kyle and I cast off at just after noon and set sail for Langley, a quaint little town on a bluff 7.8 nautical miles west of Everett. 

The wind blew as if coming from a fan over Langley, so we tacked the whole way, bouncing back and forth between the shores of Priest Point, Gedney Island and Camano Island.  Sojourn’s knot meter refused to go above 5 knots.  It’s been pretty consistently reading lower than the GPS, so I calibrated it to my perception.  With the needle reading 5.5 knots instead of 4.5, the trip somehow was somehow more satisfying.  One of these day’s I’ll get around to actually calibrating it properly.

We arrived at Langley to a full harbor.  The harbormaster said call back in a half hour, so I seized the opportunity to try Sojourn’s anchor.  I happily found that she has 250 of well marked rode in better condition than I remember.  We were in 10 feet of water and not leaving the boat, so I paid out 90 feet.  A spot opened up, so we pulled anchor and headed into the tiny marina.  We climbed the hill to the main part of town and found an outdoor pizzeria.  . 

At six o’clock, we headed home.  Once under sail, we found ourselves on a broad reach for about 20 minutes and then a dead run all the way to Everett.  This was actually a real treat. Not having wind instruments, I can’t say what the apparent wind was, but the apparent tranquility was excellent.  If a picture is worth a thousand words, what is a video worth? 

Sojourn on a broad reach (turn up the sound if you can’t hear it.)

To top off a very enjoyable day, when walking back to the car in the Marina parking lot, spring had sprung in an odor. 

Too Good to Be True, the Saga Continues

So, that which sunk a ship had other consequences.  Once I discovered that the engine had been under water, I resigned to the notion that all of the electronics had to be replaced and so it was true.  The final piece of electrical gear to go was the starter.  Surprisingly, it wasn’t the starter itself, but the solenoid. It developed an internal short and didn’t have enough pull to engage the bendix and close the contact to the starter.

Greg, a friend with scuba gear, volunteered to dive into the 49 degree water and change out her prop.  Just to say I helped, I dawned my wet suit and a snorkel and almost like a Loony Tunes character I was out of the water before my fins hit.  Brrrrrr!  Incidentally, on a near high rising tide, there wasn’t a hint of salt in the Everett marina.  So we dried off and I hit the starter.  The engine roared to life and then died. I only had the speed control set at perhaps 30%.

I decided that it was a governor problem, so I pulled the speed control plate to investigate.  Under it there was a bar, that was clearly part of the governor and was sticky.  I worked it with a screw driver until it was moving freely.  I thought perhaps a piece of corrosion was making it sticky, which appeared to be the case. 

So, Carrie, the girls, and I took her out for her first sail since the repower.  It worked pretty well, but he engine stalled a couple of times at idle. We had a relaxing sail on a 72 degree light breeze under mostly overcast skies.  After the spring weather we’ve had, I had not complaints. Afterward, we proceeded to Jetty Island. This time, it wouldn’t rev up, so we limped back to Sojourn’s slip instead.

Later that night, I took the fuel injection pump out.  What a mess! There was rust in it and one of the springs had shattered into a dozen pieces.  I can only surmise that corrosion caused stress risers which cause the spring to break.  I’m amazed at the number of pieces the spring is in and have no explanation. The rest of the pieces are still in it as I was fearful of not being able to put Humpty back together again in the absence of a clean work bench. It is Memorial day, so I’ll have to wait until later in the week to see what the damage to my wallet is going to be.

Noise Comparison Beta vs. MD7a

I’m fortunate to have pretty good hearing.  While I can’t hear a dog whistle, at age 40, I still find old school CRT type televisions annoying because I can hear the scan frequency.  My wife, and most adults I’ve asked, have no idea what I’m talking about. 

It comes at a price though – I’m sensitive to noise in general.  With two notable exceptions, I find most machine noise to be annoying.  Being a mechanical engineer and former auto mechanic, machine noises that sound like something is loose or malfunctioning, or just shouldn’t be, are the worst. My old tired MD7a with it’s “missing the third jug timing” was one of those. (The MD7a has the cylinder timing of a 3 cylinder, with one of the cylinders missing.) So after reading all of the forums and sales literature about how quiet the Beta is, I was very excited to find a good deal on a Beta.

MD7a

So the Beta is installed and the jury has rendered a verdict.  Although I have access to it, it didn’t occur to me to take before and after noise measurements with a sound meter, so my phone will have to do.  Quantitatively, the Beta is quieter, but nothing to….well shout about.  Qualitatively, it sounds to this designer of machines for the last decade as a 2 cylinder diesel should, if a little

Beta 14

noisier than I would like. Here are some videos. That said, no effort has been made to add sound insulation (yet) in Sojourn and in fact feels like a lot of vibration is getting transmitted through the hull and reverberating in the open space in the lazarette. I’ll revisit this when I get to sound insulation on my rather lengthy to-do list.

Oh, and the two notable exceptions: A Ducati 900 Super Sport and Packard V-1650 often heard in a North American P-51 Mustang flyby.

Galloping Ghost at Reno (3 min video.) The video doesn’t do it justice.

How Do You Park Your Sailboat?

I was recently dialoging with someone in the Netherlands, and he sent me a photo of his boat.  I immediately asked him what happened, to which he asked to what was I referring.  I was referring to the fact that it looked, to my apparently novice eye, like his boat ran aground at high tide and miraculously speared the keel in the mud to keep it from falling over, to which his response might be interpreted, “how do they park boats where you live? “

He points out that this Westerly Centaur 27 has twin keels and thus can do this quite easily.  If you look closely, there is a small shaft of light showing between the keels.

No news, I’m sure, to old salts here in the states, but interesting to me.  Thanks to Ruud for being kind enough to permit me to post the photo.  It was taken on a sea called Waddenzee where this is apparently a common sight.

Sojourn’s Exhaust

The Beta’s exhaust comes out on the opposite side of the prop shaft  as the old Volvo and thus my muffler.  I needed a tail pipe that went up about 8 inches, to starboard 9 inches and aft about 17 inches to the muffler. Moving the muffler is possible, but not attractive as it would encroach on storage space in the lazarette. To solve my geometry problem, I designed a tailpipe in Solidworks consisting of a flange, a bent piece of 1-5/8 stainless exhaust tubing, a 1-1/4 pipe nipple, and a 1/2 pipe nipple.  I made the flange myself and had Stan at Stan’s Header’s in Auburn bend the tube. I cut the threaded ends off the nipples and milled a hole in the larger.  I then welded the parts together.  Voila.  After wrapping it with some exhaust lagging, the hole exhaust project cost me $125 and about 2 hours. 

As I’ve said before, I purchased Sojourn as a learning project and am getting my money’s worth.  On that note, I was surprised to find that my old tail pipe actually had evidence of rust, to the point of rot, from the outside than the inside. In fact, if you look closely, there is a hole in it. I have also noticed that every time I started the engine, that the exhaust lagging would steam.  I’ve since learned that the lagging is hygroscopic (has an affinity for water) which causes it to absorb water from the air, of which there is much on a sailboat. Hopefully the stainless will last longer than the carbon steel did.

Other’s who have converted to Beta, will likely recognize that Beta recommends a 2” exhaust for this installation.  I decided to try to save a few hundred dollars and reuse the old exhaust.  If the 1-5/8 doesn’t keep me within allowable back pressure, I’ll have to upsize.  Stay tuned.

It’s Working!

I’m behind in postings as I’ve been sick and working on Sojourn. It isn’t done yet as there are still small details (like connecting it to a prop shaft) to finish, but I’m happy to report…..

It’s working. It’s working!

And it’s fantastic! There was no crawling half into the lazarette with a can of ether, no smoke, no smell, and no embarrassing oil sheen.  There was just a 10 second pause for the glow plugs, then voila. 

And to top off an already good evening….

Four Feet Closer

One of the fringe benefits of my job is access to a rather well equipped machine shop.  The shaft line on the Beta sits about 1.9 inches lower than it does on the old Volvo and therefore the new Beta needs to sit 1.9 inches higher.  Beta Marine advertises that they have a solution for this, but having already purchased this on the secondary market, visions of hundred dollar bills danced in my head.

I found a piece of 6 inch aluminum C channel and drew up some feet in Solidworks around this material.  I cut it into 5 inch lengths and a few hours on an mill and this is what I ended up with.

I was worried that the timber under the engine beds would be rotten after 37 years, so I wanted a good hold to the fiberglass itself.  I decided that six #14 stainless wood screws should do the trick.

Despite a cold soggy morning, the afternoon turned out to be delightfully sunny and almost, dare I say, warm. Annie and I headed to the marina to install the new hardware. 

To my pleasant surprise, nice dry pink wood chips came out of all 24 of the drilled holes.  I wonder what species they used that might have pink wood. If six screws was going to be enough in rotten wood, this felt very reassuringly solid.  After screwing down all four feet, I rigged the engine to the Halyard for the last time and set the engine on the new feet.  So, Sojourn is four feet closer to having a running Kubota power plant.

Forward Progress

We, here in the northwest, had a break from the dismal excuse for spring weather on Saturday.  It was one of the first dry days we’ve had in a while, not to mention one of the first this month above 50. Our good friend Bill was available for a quick afternoon trip, so I seized the opportunity and off to the marina with a shiny red engine and a sense of enthusiasm we went.

To solve the problem of handling the engine between the garage and trailer and then the dock, I made a frame out of 2X4 timber and strapped it to the engine with motorcycle straps.  The result was a akin to a double ended wheelbarrow, which worked very well. The problem of getting it from the dock into the cabin and subsequently into the engine compartment was solved for me by virtue of the fact that Sojourn is, after all, a sailboat.  We rigged the main halyard to the engine sitting on the dock.  I manned the winch, while Bill and my slip neighbor, Matt, guided the engine over the gunnel and down the companion way.  Short on time, we left it there for the night.

Sunday, the weather returned to its less than spring-like dampness, wind and gray, but not so much to prevent me from moving the engine from the cabin sole to the engine compartment.  This went with out a hitch, even by myself.  I ran a motorcycle strap between the end of the mast and the halyard to keep the engine from swinging toward the mast.  The lifting eyes were ideally located on the Beta and permitted me to get all four feet on the beds in one shot. To scoot it back into position and adjust the feet, I rigged it though the deck hatch and put some tension on the halyard.

Voila, a shiny red engine in its new home.  (Sorry, my final image was too fuzzy to post.  Stay tuned.)

A Sorry Sight

Being only 30 feet long, Sojourn is moored at what I think of as the entry level dock.  I say entry level as most of her neighbors are like her, less than 32 feet and seasoned.  A few docks away are the bigger slips and more expensive boats.

What is striking is the number of apparently neglected boats on the dock. There are no less than 10 boats on D dock with no canvas at all protecting their sails from the ravaging UV of the sun. Two of them have seen their sails shredded in the time Sojourn has been in Everett- just 5 months. Ironically, one of them bears a sail repair advertisement.  I didn’t want to embarrass the owner, so I didn’t post the image. 

What, by the way, is the nautical term for these neglected and deteriorating vessels?  Airmen call their aeronautical counterparts ramp queens.

That Which Didn’t Sink a Ship

I’m now finished with phase two of Sojourn’s repower project.  The engine bay is clean and painted and Sojourn is waiting to be powered by Kubota (in the absence of wind of course).

I cleaned the engine bay, first with Greased Lightning, which I’ve found to be a very good surfactant in the past, then simple green and scrub brush, vacuuming the resultant gray foam with a shop vac to keep it out of the bilge.  I then coated it with two coats of Interlux BilgeKote on two consecutive days.  The only two problems I had were that the shaft packing was dripping too fast for the bottle and the rag I placed under it and there were traces of grease showing up in the roller.  Time will tell if the latter causes any adhesion issues.

One thing I did in preparation was remove the shaft flange so that I could modify it. The Volvo had a metric bolt circle slightly different than the imperial one of the Technodrive. I would not bother to modify this eighty dollar part if I didn’t essentially have a machine shop at my disposal.

Getting to the subject and title of this post, I woke up in the middle of the night realizing that Sojourn’s slip is subject to river currents and there was nothing preventing the prop shaft from working its way out of the stuffing box should a current cause the prop to turn.  Could the bilge pump keep up with a 3/4 inch hole in the hull?  Perhaps for a while, but not something I wanted to learn empirically, so I stole away on my lunch break to check on it.  Thankfully, it hadn’t moved.  I installed a piece of hose and hose clamp on the prop shaft and headed back to work anticipating a better night’s sleep tonight. 

The next time an opportunity presents itself, I’ll have to remember to offer a little extra wine to the old man in the sea.

Sojourn’s Repower Underway

I’ve embarked on a sojourn of a different sort – repowering Sojourn. As I write this, she leans slightly to starboard in her slip, burdened by 340 pounds of cast iron sitting on her cockpit seat.

I had planned to get a chain fall, some additional muscle and some other tools to remove the old Volvo MD7A, but the decided to go down and get started. I disconnected the control cables, wiring, exhaust, fuel and cooling hoses.  I then removed the bolts from the motor mounts and prop coupling and the motor was free, save the forces of gravity and being something of a square peg behind a round hole – or was it the other way around? By calibrated eyeball, the opening was about 2 inches shorter than the distance from the bottom of the flywheel to the top of the valve cover.  Further, the flywheel was too low in the hole to get a three-jaw puller on it.

To expose the flywheel, I tied the main halyard to the alternator bracket and hoisted, tipping the engine up, giving me the clearance I was hoping for.  The three jaw puller I borrowed from work must have weighed 45 pounds and seemed adequate to remove the wheel from one of those earth movers you see on Big Machines. After applying most of the muscle and all of the cajones I had, it would not budge.  I had screwed so much energy into it that I was having visions of it popping off and subsequently harpooning the forward bulkhead.  In fact, I damaged the crankshaft stud pretty badly.

Plan B was to remove the valve cover, rockers and injector lines. Now, at least, it was a smaller peg.  And, it was halfway out of its hole.  I decided to keep going.  I tightened the halyard a little more and gave it a tug.  The engine practically popped onto the battery box.

The impatient man in me wanted to keep going so the engineer did a seat of the pants calculation.  340 pounds.  7/16ths halyard. 5 inch winch. 12 inch handle. Some friction. – about 70 pounds of armstrong.  I figure I give it at least 50 pounds of armstrong on the last crank when hoisting the sail.  A 7/16 line, even as old as this one should have 1000 pounds of breaking strength. I went for it.

The impatient man re-rigged the halyard, tied a line between the end of the boom and the halyard to keep the engine from swinging toward the mast and proceeded to crank the winch.  As soon as it pulled free of the battery box, the whole boat listed to starboard with the engine swinging likewise.  I think I heard a goose in a very good Homer Simpson voice say “Dohhhh!”  The impatient man tied a line between each of the cabin top winches and the halyard.  This worked very well. I continued cranking the winch as the old Volvo emerged from the companionway.

Before I knew it, Sojourn’s old engine (and perhaps someone’s new anchor) was sitting on the starboard cockpit seat and there was an  empty hole under the cockpit.