Sunday, October 6, 2013

What and Where of Late....


After the Admiral’s visit, both Tess and I spent a week or so back in New Hampshire for some housekeeping; both work related and personal planning.  Then back to Baltimore on September 29 for another charter cruise. 

This one with Charlie and his buddies Jeremy (from Minneapolis) and Stefanos (from D.C.).  A great weekend of weather promised an Admiral’s Cruise Redux.  But, being young professionals (rather than, ______; well, you can fill that in), this crew was sensible, if not serious.  Two arrivals on Thursday night via BWI and an early Friday morning train from Penn Station, allowed the crew to shove off by 10ish and hit the Bay.  While some attempt at sailing failed at the Key Bridge, we had a pleasant motor sail into Annapolis in time to pick up a mooring (all of which were to be removed or obliterated on Sunday morning to accommodate the set up of the Annapolis Boat Show.  Cruiser’s Tip:  The City Moorings marked “Keep Off” are actually reserved for boats over 46 feet.  An Island Packet 45, with dinghy on davits, certainly measures 50 feet, so we grabbed a Keep Off Mooring since they were the only ones available.

Our first stop was our newest “Best Place”; McGarvey’s Back Bar for raw oysters and clams.  While the youngsters couldn’t go mollusk-for-mollusk with the Admiral, they made a credible dent in the Chesapeake shellfish inventory.  Even the Minnesotan slurped some down.

A 2 and 2 dinner at The Federal House and then back to the boat for liquor, cigars and listening to young up-and-comers talk about work, work, work, iOS 7, work, more money please, and missing their young wives.  Generations come and go, but nothing seems to change.

A rather late morning start (I could hear from my training as a compassionate father: “If you don’t let those boys get some rest…” from 0600 to 0900).  Needless to say, I let them rest.  As the day progressed, that turned out to be prescient.  They would need it.

Being Annapolis, where everyone is watching, the sails were up immediately and we sailed out of the Harbor and into the Bay.  With Stephanos on the helm, Jeremy manning the lazy sheet and Charlie and I giving contradicting instructions, we somehow managed (after a mere 6? 10? 20? 100? tacks) to make it under the Bay Bridge.  At that point, knowing the most damaging structure in all of Chesapeake Bay was behind us, I went down for my nap with firm instructions to the Sailing Master: “Either get us back to Baltimore, or get us to an anchorage before nightfall”.  Under the tutelage of this Wind Whisperer, the crew took their turns at the wheel, on the sheets and in their bunks until our not untimely arrival back in Baltimore. 


The Crew.  Back in Baltimore.

Having been forewarned of our arrival, Tess had planned and prepared a sumptuous welcome home feast at the end of the dock for sunset.  Joined by Katie & Kyle, we had a nice end to two great days of being on the Bay.  Stephanos, off to the train for a much anticipated return to his beloved, was foiled by the fact that Mussolini does not run the MARC trains.  He came back to the boat to enjoy a two-plus hour delay in his travel plans.

Ahhh…., since those halcyon days, life aboard ENDURANCE have been filled with nothing but work.  Apart for real work, boat work had initially focused on tracking down that elusive water seepage.  The water pump coming on, or trying to, at odd times.  The mysterious appearance of water in the bilge each morning.  Living on the water is great.  Tracking down the source of water internal to the place you live; not so good. 

In a process that started in Maine, continued with Paul Casey’s years of sleuthing out boat problems and Charlie’s professional expertise aboard yachts of many descriptions (most better described than our own), I was certain that I was narrowing down the problem.  “It’s the water pump!”, I exclaimed one morning.  Aided and abetted by a waterlogged Accumulator Tank.  


The Old Accumulator Tank.  A bit rusty; inside and out.


The space to be filled.

The one gallon tank, to be replaced by one twice the size, I ordered.  Matching the water pump, not possible.  Convinced after talking to many vendors that I could fix the errant pump, I took it apart, cleaned out the debris and reinstalled it.  It ran.  It ran.  And it ran.  It did not pump water.  


Never to Pump again.

Rather than go without (water, that is), I broke down, purchased and installed the West Marine, Always Available, Loud As A Jet Plane Water Pump, Model # We Know You Are Desperate At This Point.  It was loud.  “I’ll replace it when the Accumulator Tank comes in”, I said.

Two days later, Tess is off to Chicago for the weekend (Jake’s Navy Training Graduation), and I have my Accumulator Tank.  Oh.  I forgot to mention.  After the Admiral’s visit, I made that quick return to New Hampshire.  Not previously planned.  Not well thought through.  As I’m leaving the boat to head to my 9:50 PM flight, I sit at the electrical panel and think, “What do I need to keep on?  Surely, just the Refrigerator”.  All other switches off.  Good power management?  No.  No.  Really no.  Without thinking things through, it seems I also turned off the Shore Power.  That means that the Refrigerator was running only on the House Batteries for over a week.  Not really though.  Sometime during this period, there were no more House Batteries.  Fully discharged.  Kaput.  Uh, oh.

It doesn’t take an expert to know that when you have a dead battery (or two), you recharge it.  That’s what I did.  Wow!  The Charger is pumping in over 100 Amps into a 240 Amp Hour Battery.  This will take no time at all.  A couple hours later, the Charger stops.  What?  I fear that I have blown both the Batteries and the Charger.  The next morning, some useful dockside advice: “Read the Manual”.  I did.  It says that the Thermal Fuse in the Charger caused its shutdown.  Too many amps.  The Batteries get to hot.  The Charger shuts off.  I gain access to the Charger.  Hit the Reset Button.  Back in business.  Charlie’s Cruise to Annapolis goes off without a hitch.  On our return, Tess notes that a storage locker next to the Battery Locker is really hot.  So, it seems, are the Batteries.  Busy for several days thereafter, just before Tess’ departure to Chicago, I get out another manual.  On the Batteries, this time.  Have you ever heard of Thermal Runaway?  The next sentence in the manual says something about Explosions.  And then, just, “Run Away!”

It seems that if you try to recharge a fully discharged battery with more than 50 Amps, you will likely warp the plates in these AGM Batteries.  They will short out.  The remaining cells, if any, will still take a charge.  All of it.  And overheat.  At a certain yet to be determined temperature, even these AGM High Tech Batteries will dry out.  Then, merely explode.  Again, dockside discussion recalls the Swiss boat he saw in Gibraltar.  No foredeck.  Batteries had exploded.

The decision is made to replace them today (the day that I had planned to install my new Accumulator Tank).  

Many calls were made.  These Batteries are expensive.  Few people keep them in stock.  Except… you guessed it.  West Marine, two stores over, has the two I need.  Twice as expensive.  But, the cost versus risk analysis was already done.  I put them on hold for an afternoon pick up.  Then a return call from Stevens Battery Warehouse in Pasadena, Maryland.  Joe says he can have exact replacements on Tuesday.  “Not good””, I say.  “Today’s the day.”  Joe says, “Let me send a Tech over to assess your problem”.  “Okay”.  Any advice is better than the voices in my head.  At 2:00, the Tech confirms. “You fried them my friend”.  And, “they are not the high-priced, brand name Batteries you thought you had.  They are the West Marine higher-priced batteries that we sell (at half the cost) without the WM label”.  By 6:00 my new friends have returned and installed (at 128 pounds each) two new Batteries and a significant cost savings.  

In the meantime, I have installed the Accumulator Tank.


Shiny new Accumulator Tank.


The new plumbing installation.

A busy day.

So all is well aboard?  Until 0400 the next day.  The water pump goes on.  Okay, no big deal.  At 0420, the water pump goes on again.  This means we have lost two gallons of water in twenty minutes.  Uh, oh.  Again.  Big deal.

There is clearly an extra two gallons of water in the Bilge.  I pump it out.  I then, for the umpteenth time, since I have already scrutinized every other source of water at least a million and umpteenth times, open the access panel to the Hot Water Heater.

Did you guess it this time?  Let me give you a hint.  Spraying water.  Lots of it.  From the Hot Water Heater.  The nylon hose fitting on the “hot” water side, dried up, shrunken, and leaking.  Again.  I replaced it in Deltaville, Virginia in September 2010.  Should have learned then.  


What an irritating pain in the neck you have been!

At 0800, when Ace Hardware opened, I replaced it with a brass fitting.  $4.89.  Plus tax.  No more leaks.  So far.  No more rampant water pump cycling.  So far.

As Katie would say:  “You’re a Cruiser?  What did you repair today?”

No comments: