Winches Installed

Brand new, right out of the box.

I have finally completed the installation of new winches aboard Brigadoon.  These are five that I picked up from Defender at about 1/2 off. We saved thousands of dollars (literally), because they were demonstration models returned from retail stores. This means they were abused by people touching them and making them do "clicky" noises in the stores. We purchased five in total; mainsheet, two Genoa sheet, and two Staysail sheet winches.

Do you know how the story goes, that no job is easy on a boat? This install supported that story -- in spades. It basically boiled down to two things; 1) everything is hard to reach and, 2) everything is really hard to reach.

If it weren't for that, this job would not have been that bad.

The original and very nice Barients.

The first thing was to remove the old Barient non-tailing winches. That was actually not that difficult. They were sealed to the caprails with 5200, so the bolts were fixed security in place. All I had to do was crawl down inside a very small space and get the bolts off. Once that struggling and cursing was over, all that was left was the prying, the cursing, and the careful work with a chisel to get the winches and pads off.

Large winch removed.

I had planned on reusing the large pads, as they were fine for the larger genoa winches. I needed to use larger pads for the smaller staysail winches.

Staysail winch on new pad.

The gray stuff you see is butyl tape. I've decided to go with this instead of 5200 or some other adhesive because the adhesive is: a) messy, b) not necessary and, c) dries out over time. Butyl should perform better in a bolt-on application.

The view from underneath.

This is the underside of the caprail. This is the easiest spot to reach. All the others were harder. Each winch got brand new stainless hardware and nyloc nuts.

To put on one winch?  That took all damn day.

What it takes to install one winch on a boat.

But, after a few days, we had a finished product.

The finished product.

Port side install.

Varnish stripped, new pads installed for the staysail winches, and all four winches installed and bolted down.

Overall, it was a really tough job. Words cannot express the difficulty of fitting my body into very small places, the numerous cuts and bruises I have and how much I appreciate the help of my daughter, Sarah. Simple fact is, I can't tighten bolts when I'm deep inside the aft compartment without someone above to keep the screws from turning.

Thank you, Sarah.

Adventures in yachting, fucking up, and lessons learned.

As I thought about posting this, I thought of a talk by Brene.

Brene Brown on critics and the arena.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=8-JXOnFOXQk

I fucked up yesterday. It was a small fuckup that was compounded by another wholly preventable fuckup, which then made Kerry and me tackle the whole mess together.

The good news is that no one got hurt, we didn't damage Brigadoon or any other boats, we didn't fight; we solved the problem.

We had been invited to a party at the Tyee Yacht Club, here on Lake Union. We had the bright idea of taking Brigadoon over to the party -- arrive at fancy theater fund raiser in our yacht. Wonderful idea, actually.  Life and been busy and we had not been off the dock in pretty much months.

So we prepared for the short journey. We cleaned the boat up a little and, while Kerry showered, I started stowing the dock lines, checked the fuel level, stowed various things and got her ready for departure.  When Kerry arrived, everything was ready. I wanted to leave by 6:00 before it got dark. I didn't want to dock at an unfamiliar marina at night. This turned out to be a good idea.

So, with the wind blowing 10-15 from the south, we started the engine for the first time in weeks. Everything seemed fine (it wasn't as we will find out shortly) as I slowly worked Brigadoon backwards along the dock -- the wind holding us pretty firm against the fenders. This technique works because, was we move backwards, our stern hangs off the point of the dock, balanced on a nice set of fenders and, at one point, the bow points out in the lake and we can leave. It worked great. With a close pass to the boat in front of us we were finally under way out into Lake Union.  Whew!

We steadied up into the headwinds and I took a minute to look around. That's when I yelled "Fuck!"

Trailing behind us was an anchor rode. Remember the cool storm anchor I have set our into the lake? Well, I didn't take it off the starboard side of Brigadoon. I forgot it and Kerry didn't double check our readiness to leave the dock, because I didn't ask her to.  So I pulled the boat into neutral before we hit the end of the line. At that moment Brigadoon started drifting back towards the shipyards, pushed by the wind. The anchor rode is led through our midships starboard fairlead.  It was trailing out and away from that side of the boat. I made a decision to put us back in gear with enough power to hold station while I headed to the bow to get a bouy.  I was going to toss the bouy on the anchor rode and retrieve it later. As I pulled the line to me to attach the bouy Kerry yelled out, "The engine has stopped."

Yes, you know what happened.  Brigadoon pulled too hard, drawing the line along the hull and into the prop.  We had sails stowed, were on a lee shore (that being some very large drydocks about 50 yards off our stern) with no engine. Fortunately we had fouled on the end of the line, not 10 feet from where it was secured to the boat. We had rode to work with.

I was not happy. However, we had a problem to solve. 

The anchor is well set, about 200 feet from the dock, in 40' of water. That gives us a 5:1 scope usually. Well, I was now about 50 yards out so, with a 4:1 scope on an anchor that has been well set for a year. Thank god the rode didn't fail or part at a shackle but that's another thing to check. So I started winching the rode in until we were about 60 yards off the beam of a very expensive motor yacht located near our dock.  We were about 75 feet from our dock.

So, this is what I did, besides cursing a lot. We considered calling vessel assist but, I thought we could self rescue from this stupid and avoidable mistake on my part.

Get the boat stable on the anchor. We did that. We were dead with no engine and our prop fouled but, we were riding on the anchor well.

Get the Portland Pudgy into the water. NOW. I was able to do this in about five minutes, even though she was completely stowed, with davit harness, spring lines and all.

Deploy the stern tie line from the Quickreel we recently spent a lot of money on and tie it to the dingy. As I looked at that reel, and the 400 yards of line it contained, I knew this would work.

I then rowed to our Dock, trailing the floating webbing behind me.  Soon I was at the dock. I secured the line to a strong cleat and rowed back to Brigadoon.  We were now riding on the storm anchor from our stern and had a line to our dock.  I secured the Pudgy to the stern with the painter and concentrated on getting our disabled boat home.

Haul Brigadoon back to the dock. We hauled on the webbing, pulling us slowly back to the dock while we slowly let out the anchor rode. It took a little while but we took our time. We got there. Kerry was letting the rode out while hauling on the webbing as I stood on the bowsprit. As we got within ten feet of the dock, I was standing in the pulpit, ready to step off. It worked like a charm.

Soon we had the bow secured and, with a little effort, swung the stern around and had Brigadoon tied up securely.

I then struggled with the fouled line for about an hour. To her credit, though we were now late for the big gala, where she was going to show off her new dress and dance with me, she said, "it's OK, we have to learn to fix things like this for ourselves."

So she stood by while I cursed, struggled and, eventually, got the line cut free. I wasn't able to get it all off. There is still some part wrapped around the shaft between the prop and the cutlass bearing.

We did get out last night. We had a great time at the party. I made her smile by dancing with her a lot. 

This morning, we are dealing with finishing the job. I could go back into the dinghy and try to cut the rest off, but I broke off the tine on the knife by using it wrong, so all I have is a sawing blade and it's not very effective. I've since ordered two new knives as replacements and will know not to put side loads on it in the future.

We have called our brother in law, who is a diver. He is coming over to dive on the boat and free the remainder and inspect the prop and shaft for me. He should arrive shortly.

Lessons learned:

1) check the boat properly for departure -- both of us. 

2) recognize the situation and the options I have.

3) make a plan and execute on those options with the primary goal of the safety of us and the boat in mind.

4) recognize that cursing and yelling happen and not to take it personal.

5) Fix the problem now -- beat yourself up for the mistake later, when you have time.

I hope this was useful to you.

Since all of you are in the arena with me, you may now point and laugh. 

Relationships and Cruising

This was recently posted by our friends on Windtraveler.

The sea finds all weaknesses: in boats, in people and in relationships. You have to be sure you have the skills to sail the boat, to fix it, to navigate, to get along in foreign cultures. But you also have to be prepared to come face to face with yourself, to discover things about yourself that you do not like and to work to change those things. You have to be ready to confront any weaknesses in your relationship and to address those in a situation where you are together 24/7 in sometimes highly stressful situations where your lives depend on one another. Cruising will not fix a broken relationship – it is far more likely to rip it apart along the fault lines. But where a basis of true respect and caring exists, the experience of cruising together can create a real partnership and eventually transform that into the kind of soul-deep bond that most people dream of but only a handful ever achieve. In the toughest times, when you think that you can’t do it or that your relationship cannot survive it, commit and commit again, knowing it will be worth every moment of doubt, pain and discomfort. In the best times, which come far more often, don’t forget to dance on the foredeck under the stars, to make love in the cockpit caressed by the tradewind breezes and to say “It sure beats working,” at least twice a day!" 

- Beth Leonard, from the Interview with a Cruiser Project

The Price of Admission

This place sucks.

I recently read a post on another blog that, I think, think, was written mostly in jest.  It was a bunch of complaints about living aboard and, to be honest, they can be real challenges.  It was an honest thing to do, to put that out there.  It was titled,

"Liveaboard Hate: The top 10 things we hate about living aboard a sailboat in Seattle"

The 10 things they listed were:

• Laundry -- how they have to haul their laundry to what is sometimes a busy laundromat.  They used to have a washer and dryer in their home.
• Lack of Galley Counter Space -- I did note in the picture that they have a galley larger than ours, with more counter space but, one whole counter is taken up by stored food, a toaster, and a full sized coffee maker.  There is a lot of stuff in that galley.
• No Tub -- they used to have a tub in their home.  
• Birds -- since their boat is outside the birds like to gather on the rigging of their sailboat and poop on the deck.  Oh, and the Blue Herons are scary at night when they walk down the dock and don't see them until the big pterodactyls (as my friend refers to them) squawk and fly off.  Yeah, they can spook you but, walk quietly and look around.  You might be amazed by what you usually miss.
• Being asked, "Are You Going to Sail There" by people that don't know their boat moves at walking speed and takes a whole day to cover what a car can cover in an hour.  You know, while they are *sailing*.
• Custom Work -- they don't like the fact that many things on a boat are more expensive and that, sometimes, you have to to have things made custom.  Apparently you can't just go buy boat cushions at Fred Meyer.  Who knew?  
• No Room to Stretch -- boats, they say, are smaller inside than houses.
• Power Limits -- it is a great inconvenience that one cannot run their blow dryer, TV, computers, toaster and heater all at the same time.  You know, like you can in a house.
• Boat Forums -- these are the places where you can't get an answer to your problem, like why you can't run the toaster, curling iron, and blow dryer all at the same time.
• Condensation -- boats can get damp inside if you don't have proper airflow. You see, if you have a closed container that is warmer inside than it is on the outside, and people are breathing and cooking on the boat, you get condensation.  I wish I had paid better attention in science class in grade school.

Yes, I know I'm poking fun at the complaints.  Yes, I know it may sound superior but, that isn't where it's coming from.

Here's the key to this, Mr. Liveaboard. They key to not hating it.  Not hating anything.  Remember, you chose this.  It's simple.  

Everything you do in life comes with a price of admission.  Do you like driving that high performance car but don't like the price of gas?  Price of admission.  Do you love your wife but her farts are stinky?  Price of admission.  Love watching TV for four hours a day but don't like being overweight from lack of activity.? Price of admission.  Love to work out to keep your weight down but don't like sore muscles or puking at the top of that hill?  Price of admission.

So, if you want to live aboard a boat -- you know, on the water, near the wildlife, close to your neighbors, and within ten minutes of sailing on the sound, with the ability to take your home with you every time you sail, never having to pack, you have to pay the price of admission.

If you don't understand that you gave up things like a lot of space, a tub, being able to consume power like it was free, can't just go shopping at the local hardware store for parts, and so forth, as the price of admission for living on a boat then maybe...move back to land?  

Now, the post may have been tongue in cheek or just a joking rant about some of the challenges (the price of admission) for living on a boat.  I get that.  However, if you do focus on those things as dislikes, instead of the things you have to pay for in order to do what you want to do, you are just going to make yourself miserable.

If you focus on how damp the boat is and how everything get's all mildewed in the winter, maybe you won't find the solution; get some air moving by opening the hatches a little and venting your breath.

If you focus on how you can't run your house sized toaster, your full-sized coffee maker and your curling iron, maybe you won't consider that you can toast bread on your stove, make coffee in a french press and get a hairstyle that doesn't require a curling iron.

Really, it comes down to a million little adjustments in lifestyle to truly live on a sailboat and make it work.  If you try to bring all the modern conveniences to your boat you will find yourself out of space, out of power, and out of patience.

I look at it this way. 

It takes fifteen minutes to clean the inside of my boat, not two hours like my old house.  I never have to fix a washer or dryer again, that is the laundromat's problem now.  I never have to mow a lawn or rake leaves, ever again.  Everything I own is five steps away.  I live a neater and less cluttered life because I have to -- because I must.  I live on/in the water, in the middle of the city.  My view is the envy of thousands of people. If I don't like my neighbors I can move.  If I don't like this country, I can visit another.  

And the wildlife that shares this space with me?  I like the crows (it's easy to get them to stop sitting on most of your rigging by the way). The otters who play in my marina (who can destroy your boat if you leave it open or food out) entertain me to no end.  The blue herons (beautiful quiet ghosts of the night) are the epitome of grace and stealth.

For us, on Brigadoon, it's all about paring down, seeing all the things we have gained instead of all the things the Jones's have that we can't have anymore.  My McMansion home had a 30 year mortgage.  My boat will be paid off in about three years. 

And that is why I don't hate, or even dislike, the things that this person lists in their blog.  

You see, I understand.

They are all the price of admission and one I'm more than willing to pay.