Disconnecting the morse cable and connecting new fuses.
Captain Fluffy, our helping hand.
April 9th 2019
We spend the remainder of yesterday afternoon and a good deal of this day to figure out how to pry the Morse cable loose. We found out that both ends are held in place by a split pin or cotter pin. Thing is, it looks like it isn’t supposed to by pried loose. You can reach the one that is connected to the transmission, but the end that is connected to the Morse throttle control is almost unreachable. There is only 5 mm space to reach behind with a pair of very small pliers to unfold the split pin.
After a lot of wriggling, cursing and desperation, the split pin finally came loose. Now we could determine the length of the cable and buy a new one at the marine store. We also ordered a prop shaft grease pump which they didn’t have in store anymore. According to the mechanic it was something that needed to be done as well.
The fun side of boat work -especially if you live on the boat- is that with every job you have to do, before you can even start, you have to reorganize the whole content of your boat. In this case everything had to be removed from the quarter berth for the end of the morse cable that is attached to the morse lever, and the complete cockpit locker had to be emptied to reach the end that is attached to the transmission. The space in a boat is limited, so you have to stack everything somewhere else, on the couch for instance which means you can’t sit anymore. And at the end of the day, even if you’re not finished, you have to put everything back, just to take it out again tomorrow to continue. Captain Fluffy is the only one who enjoys this daily workout…
We also test started the engine today, and it failed again. So although the day was almost over we decided to dive into the faulty wires. After a thorough inspection we concluded that not only the connector was corroded, the whole fuse it was connected to and the wire running to and from it were totally green and needed dire replacement. So we cut away the corroded wire and replaced the fuse. Turn the key and…Vroooom! It started in an instant. Success!
We always knew we had to give our engine compartment some tender love and care, especially the whole electric circuit. We have always found excuses and postponed it because the engine felt like a looming, growling, unfamiliar creature, something to keep a respectful distance from. It really helped to have an expert to examining it and that he clearly explained what he was doing. It’s still a big slightly unfamiliar creature, but less threatening now and with a lot less growl.
This morning the diesel heater started without complaints, so it probably was due to the heat in the engine compartment that it wouldn’t start yesterday.
Despite gloomy forecasts the day turned out to be nice and warm again. The morning was quite relaxed, and we had a superb lunch of confit de canard in the cockpit. After lunch the mechanic found the time to service our engine and turned it into a crash course in Diesel engines. Since we are complete novices and want to prevent another ‘eventful day’ on the water we paid close attention to what he explained.
We learned to change the oil and oil filter, how to change the fuel filters, how to clean the air filters if necessary and the correct way to measure the oil level. We also learned that we shouldn’t have waited much longer with servicing the engine; there was a big tear in the impeller and there was almost no oil left in the transmission. The malfunction yesterday was indeed caused by a rusty contact, so he changed that as well. Later on he took us to the workshop where he explained everything we couldn’t see properly when he was working on our engine with a demo model. We’re really grateful for this crash course, it helped a lot. Especially because the engine in our boat is so boxed in that with some of the jobs you can’t see what you’re doing, and you have to rely on touch.
He also explained how we could start our engine manually if we were in dire need. Our boat came with a hand crank. We have tried it, we turned the crank until our arms fell off, but nothing happened. So we de-rusted it, painted it again and stacked it neatly far far away.
The trick is to open the levers for the compression chambers, so that there’s no compression. Then you start swiveling, and once you have gained momentum you quickly close the levers and -hopefully- you’ll get a spark. In theory that is.
Our mechanic also discovered that the Morse cable , the remote control cable for the transmission, was almost worn through. Something that needed immediate replacement. He didn’t have time this week to do it, not because it’s a difficult job, only a very fiddly one. So he thought that we might be capable of replacing it ourselves, and he would come and check later in the week if we had done it correctly.
No time to relax anymore, how to get the freakin’ thing loose?
Today is the big day. We’re leaving the safety of marina Stellendam, and sail towards the unknown. The last checks, the last goodbyes, make sure everything is tied down, and then it is finally time to untie the lines!
First stop is the Marina of Noordschans. 2 years ago we bought our boat there and their yacht service specializes in Volvo Penta engines, which we have in our boat. We wanted to give our engine a thorough service before we sail north and Noordschans is actually on the way. Perfect combination!
It’s quite unreal to sail away from the marina knowing that you’re now really a nomad. Even more because the landscape is still so familiar.
The weather is amazing: although still a bit hazy it was 20 degrees Celsius, a day for shorts and t-shirts. But no wind. Suddenly the wind picked up, a perfect light breeze for sailing. Quickly we hoisted the sails but just as sudden as it started, the wind died again. Alas, back to motoring, let’s start the engine.
But the engine wouldn’t start…
Luckily the main sail was still up enabling us to slowly sail on with one knot of speed, and kept us from being fully adrift. But what was wrong with the engine? It couldn’t be the batteries. We had just installed a battery monitor and that indicated we had enough juice. We had just filled the diesel tank, so that couldn’t be the problem either. What then? The lights in the control panel for the engine wouldn’t light up when we turned the key to start, indicating that there might be a problem with the electronics. Where are the tools? Of course they are in the back of the quarter berth behind a pile of stuff we had so skillfully stowed away yesterday. Let’s start digging then…
Meanwhile we were slowly but steadily sailed towards a narrow stretch of water with a lot of hazardous shallows. Captain Fluffy remained fast asleep through all the commotion, which was actually quite calming. What is the worst that could happen? We might have to drop an anchor and spend the whole day searching for the cause of the trouble. And if we can’t find it we could always call the coast guards.
That really helped to see things in perspective thus methodically Jeroen checked every wire and connector if there was any electric current running through them. After an hour of searching he finally found the culprit. One of the connectors was totally eroded. Bit of scraping and wriggling and..VROOOM! Just in time, we were approaching the shallows.
Due to all the commotion we missed the bridge opening and had to tread water for nearly an hour before the bridge would open again and we could continue our journey. Oh well, time to relax after the stress of a failing engine.
Waiting for the Haringvliet bridge to open.
Eight hours after we left Stellendam we finally entered the marina of Noordschans. We had called them earlier to ask which slip we could dock. “If you sail towards the crane there are three empty slips on your left hand, it’s quite obvious when you see it. Just choose one”. But when we entered the marina we were confused. There are two cranes and in each case there were 3 empty slips on the left. We went for the first option, but it was a tight fit and quite far from the workshop. And since our engine was going to be serviced tomorrow it seemed not likely to ask us to dock here. So when we were safely docked, we got off the boat and checked out the other option. Seeing the other slip up close it was clear we had chosen the wrong one. Back to the boat then to move it to its proper slip.
All in all an hour later than when we arrived in the marina were finally moored. We met the owner of the marina on the dock. He said: “That’s a familiar boat!”. “Yes that’s right” we said, “We bought her here two and a half years ago, and now we’re back to service the engine before we go on a big trip”. “Engine service for a Dufour 31?” he said. “I know nothing of a service for a Dufour 31, and I schedule them. Are you sure?”. Oh no…we had made the appointment with one of his employees last week, surely she must have written down the appointment somewhere? But before we could explain he added, “But it’s not a problem, we can fit her in somewhere this week, probably tomorrow”.
Finally time to settle down an prepare something to eat. We have shore power here, don’t we? Indeed there was shore power, but slightly further away than our cable was long. Where is the electric power cord reel? Of course, it is stowed in the back of the quarter berth as well. Time to dig again.
In the meantime let’s heat up the diesel heater. Hmm, it won’t start. A fault code? What does it read? Sensor overheated? Well that could be plausible, the sensor is in the engine compartment and since the motor has been running for about 8 hours -minus the part where it wouldn’t start- the sensor might be under the impression that it is too hot. Well, since it has been a warm day and the engine is indeed still emanating a lot of warmth, let’s see if it will start again in the morning. We’ll just make dinner and we’ll probably go to sleep soon after we’ve finished eating anyway.
When we finally sat down for a late dinner the bilge pump started to pump. It runs automatically, so there’s probably some water accumulating there. But 5 minutes later it started again. And then 2 minutes later. And again. And again. And then it wouldn’t stop anymore…
How to deal with a bilge pump that is going berserk? Could we have a severe leak? No, it didn’t seem like there was a severe leak. Is there something wrong with the wiring? No, no problems there either. Disconnecting the pump doesn’t seem like a wise idea, what if we do have a leak which we haven’t discovered yet? Okay…What does the hive mind say? The pump might be dirty. Let’s check, yes, the inlet of the pump is quite dirty. A quick wipe calmed down the hysterical bilge pump. We’ll probably have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow, but it is good enough for now. At least we can get some sleep.
The fine art of stowing many things in a few small spaces.
April 6th 2019
Ready to leave and on same level as the waterline
The last shoppings. Filling up the diesel tank, getting the last fresh groceries like fruit and vegetables. Also some last minute chores: washing the exterior of the boat, placing the EPIRB, fitting a separating board in the locker underneath the couch so that the cans with food stay where they are.
Today we really had to empty the small storage we rented at the marina, where we kept our tools and other stuff you don’t need everyday. It is rather discouraging to look at the pile of stuff that still needs to find its way into the boat knowing that it’s already filled to the brim.
Fitting everything into our boat was like a big 3D-jigsaw puzzle. We probably re-arranged every locker about 3 times. And the boat needs to be balanced out as well, you can’t just chuck all the heavy things in one locker because they fit so snugly. The weight has to be distributed equally between port and starboard and between bow and stern.
Two o’clock in the morning we were finally done. We now carry so much weight that the water line on the hull is exactly on water level.
Busy day today. We continued with connecting the solar panels. The holes are all done but the carabiners were way to big, causing the panels to hang lower than the toe rail. Back to the shop to get smaller ones.
Next was attaching the connectors and connecting the cables. Armed with soldering iron and tin we approached the task at hand. When we were almost done, we discovered we should have connected one of the connectors differently. We tried to pry the connector loose, but turned out that once you have clamped the wire inside the connector with a metal clip, the clip is stuck inside the connector, and you can’t get it out again. The only thing that happens is that you pull the wire out of the connector and the clip stays put.
Now we need a new connector before we can continue. So the solar panel job is postponed. Again.
Another chore for today was fitting all the food we bought yesterday in the boat. Not an easy feat considering we have probably enough to eat for 3 months. We learned when we became liveaboards that spreadsheets are a necessity to keep track of your food stock. Due to the limited amount of storage space on a boat, the locker are crammed with food stuffs. When you open a locker you’re not only in danger of causing a food avalanche, but if nothing falls out it’s impossible to see what’s inside. It happened before that we bought new pasta only to find out that we already had 3 untouched packages in the back of a locker. So we’re making a list, checking it twice…Every item, where we have stored it and the expiration date. A lot of work, but you really don’t want to go through all the lockers to in search for that can of sausages only to find out that it’s past the expiration date when you have just moored the boat after a long day sailing.
We also replaced the anchor chain and anchor line. The old chain was severely rusty, so we bought 30 meters new chain and 40 meters reinforced anchor line and color coded the whole thing to see how much chain you have already put out. Feels safe to have a sturdy new chain.
Despite the chores we managed to find the time to fly with the drone today, and all the troubles were forgotten.
Again no time for boat chores today. While we still have a car we need to buy the last big things for our trip.
Apart from stocking up on food and diesel we still needed to buy stuff for the boat, and since we’re going on an extensive trip our insurance insisted on a lot of additional safety measures. Things like EPIRB’s (emergency position-indicating radio beacons), extra anchor chain, and lots of fire works for distress signaling. So first stop the marine store.
One of the issues we were trying to solve was how to deal with the gas tanks we need for cooking. We now use 4,5 kilo propane tanks with a deposit. The tank itself costs about €15,-. which will be refunded when you return the tank and you pay about €13,-. per refill. Propane works better in colder climates, butane doesn’t work properly anymore when the temperature starts to drop below 5 degrees Celsius. But you can’t get that tank just anywhere. The lack of standardization in gas tanks causes a wonderful variety in all sorts of colors, shapes and sizes, which is not very convenient. Butane and propane tanks are not the same size an shape here, let alone in other countries. They have different pressure meters and fittings and not every tank fits in our gas locker. The only kind or brand of butane tank you can buy practically anywhere is Campingaz.
In comparison to the tanks we use now, Campingaz costs about €35,-. per refill, and that is without the €50,-. you have to pay for the bottle without refund. You can see why this is not a profitable option. For us that is, for Campingaz it’s very profitable. Since we use about 4 to 5 kg gas per month we need to stock up regularly. We were pondering for a while how to deal with all the different bottles, until suddenly we realized that in most marinas in the northern countries, you pay an all-in price for the slip, water wifi and electricity. So it might be a good idea to cook electric when we’re on shore power anyway. Saves gas and money.
Added to the shopping cart: a water cooker, rice cooker and an electric burner.
We also bought a drone and spent the whole evening to get it to fly.
The launch of our paperboat ‘Binckie’ at shipyard De Haas in 2014
Not much time today for boat chores. Going away for a long time also means saying goodbye to a lot of people. So today is all about saying goodbye.
We went to the ship yard where we built our last paper boat as part of an art project in which we made boats from paper. In the beginning the idea was to make paper boats and make movies in which we try to sail in them, but fail abysmally because our boat would obviously sink. As everyone knows you can’t float in a paper boat. But the third boat wouldn’t sink anymore, so the project evolved from tragic soggy failures to paper boats made with biodegradable glue that were actually sea worthy, but would disintegrate after a few weeks. The first boats we built in our living room, but then we were asked to built one that could serve as a ferry during an art festival, the I’M Binckfestival in The Hague. We couldn’t build this one in our living room anymore, because it had to be a lot bigger and carry more people than just the two of us. That’s how we met Jos and Roel de Haas. They run shipyard ‘de Haas’ and kindly let us build our boat there. Binckie, as our boat was called was 5 meters long, 2,5 meters wide and could carry up to six adults. Thanks to the care and devotion of Jos and Roel, Binckie didn’t survive a few weeks but a few years and all the time he found shelter at the ship yard until he was eventually sold to a event bureau.
The shipyard was founded by Jan de Haas senior in 1921 and almost a century later it is run by Roel de Haas, the fourth generation in line. Roel and Jos (his father and former owner, officially retired but nevertheless still every day at work at the yard) are wonderful people. During our paper boat project we’ve gotten to know them as warm, resourceful and helpful people. And we still come there often, not only for repairs now we have a ‘real’ boat, but also for a chat and a cup of coffee. Today we brought them home made loempias, an Indonesian snack to which Roel’s stepdaughter is particularly partial, as a saying goodbye gesture.
Some of the regulars who have been coming there for decades had been to the Baltic Sea before and provided a lot of last minute advise. That’s what makes this place so special, the comradery of the people that come here.
The last exchange of email addresses, the last goodbyes and back to Stellendam. Busy day again tomorrow.
The moment of truth; will the new boards and the mattresses for the v-berth fit? Drumroll please…
Yes, it all fits! Pff, such a relief that we do not need to adjust them again. Bed mattresses are quite big and a pain to handle. The only thing we need to do now to successfully wrap up this project is to hand-stitch the cushions to close them. One done, three more to go.
On to the next project: the solar panels. We bought two 100 watt panels optimized for our northern latitudes where the sun is known not to make a regular appearance. We want to attach them to our life lines at the side of the cockpit, but unfortunately our panels didn’t came with holes. And it’s quite scary to drill holes in your brand new – and not exactly cheap – solar panels. Plan is to drill holes, fit them with grommets and use carabiners to hang them from the life lines. After gathering courage Jeroen finally drilled the first hole and pounded in a grommet. Looks promising!
But due to a sudden hailstorm we had to postpone the drilling exercise. More luck tomorrow.
Today is the start of a new adventure. No, this is not an April fools’ day joke. We’re about to go on a trip with our sailboat to the Baltic Sea. The idea is to visit all the 10 countries that border the Baltic Sea in 6 months. But this plan is not set in stone. If we won’t get any further than the north of the Netherlands it’s just as fine. It’s all about the journey, isn’t it?
We will start out by sailing north via the ‘Staande mast’ route (Fixed mast route) through the Netherlands. That way we can get used to travelling, fix whatever is necessary to fix along the way before we’ll get to the Baltic Sea and see a part of the Netherlands we haven’t seen before.
And it’s a good thing that we aren’t on a tight schedule because we are already delayed before we have even started. It is said that chores on a boat always take longer than anticipated. Our chores form no exception to the rule, hence the delay.
Before the big trip we had to do some necessary repairs and chores. Especially since we still have a small storage here at the marina and a place to work on bigger projects. One of those projects was a complete refit of the v-berth. Condensation is always an issue in a polyester boat, so we had to make some adjustments to keep the moisture at bay. We sawed new boards for under the mattresses with big holes in them to enable air circulation underneath. The varnish is drying nicely, tomorrow the boards will have fully cured.
The mattresses themselves needed to be replaced as well. We had done the settee and the chart table cushions a year ago, but somehow didn’t find the time to do the v-berth as well. Making cushions is not that difficult, especially if you have the old cushions for tracing the shape. The thing to keep in mind is that you need to cut the foam one centimetre bigger than you measure, and later on the fabric one centimetre smaller than the foam. And don’t forget the seam allowance when cutting the fabric of course.
Thus we ordered big blocks of foam and cut the shapes for the cushions with an electric bread knife. The perfect tool for the job. We also bought the fabric for the new upholstery and cut that out as well. No, not with the bread knife. Just regular scissors this time. It was very convenient that we were still in our marina. The central area of the sanitary space is so big -and relatively clean- that we could lay the foam and the fabric on the floor and cut everything there.
After sowing the pieces of fabric together, one of the covers wouldn’t fit so we had to redo that one today. Tomorrow we’re going to try and fit the boards and cushions into our v-berth, hopefully they’ll fit. Fingers crossed…
The final departure date is now set on Sunday the 7th at the latest.
Celebrating with a bottle of wine, courtesy of Jachthaven Noordschans
After months of searching, looking at boats and visiting brokers we’ve finally bought a boat! It’s a Dufour 31 from 1977 and she is wonderful! Funny thing is that we already knew that we were in love with this boat the minute we set foot aboard. But it took a bit more than that to finally come to this decision.
Buying a boat is no sinecure. It takes an enormous amount of research, visiting brokers, looking at boats, and lots and lots of comparison. Depending on your budget and general wishes, in the Netherlands you will get approx. 500 hits for entering sailboat and a certain price range on an average website offering boats for sale. 500 different boats, from different brands with different specifics. Definitely a lot to choose from, and if you’re a newbie in the wonderful world of boats (as we are) you don’t know the difference between a Beneteau, a Hallberg Rassy and a Bavaria (errr…isn’t that a brand of beer?).
And what to look for in a boat? How you’re going to use the boat is quite important in the decision making process. Do you want to race, to play around on inland waterways, cruise the oceans or liveaboard? And then there are so many brands, some are specifically built to race, others to cruise and each brand has so many models that might serve different uses as well, that you can’t see the forest for the trees. There is some useful information to be found on the internet to point you in the right direction, but in the end it mainly comes down to budget and taste.
Apart form browsing the internet, you could also ask people with first-hand experience what they would consider a good choice. Some then say that you must have a Hallberg Rassy. They’re so sturdy, compared to them other boats are so flimsy they will disintegrate once you hoist your sail. Other people swear by a Westerly or a Contest (mainly because they can’t afford a Hallberg Rassy). There is also lots of advise on what you shouldn’t buy, asked or unasked. Apparently Hanse boats have such long masts that they are top-heavy and will topple over. Benetaus are only built to look good for drinking rose in the cockpit, but the bulkheads will break free from the hull on open sea. And Bavarias are the worst: don’t bother leaving the marina, because it will sink the minute you untie the mooring lines. So many people, so many opinions. Just as Bavarias are burned to the ground by critics, you can find movies on youtube of people sailing happily with 7 beaufort or crossing the Atlantic in a Bavaria single handed (on their own), and posts about delaminated Hallberg Rassies (delamination is a severe state of osmosis, which basically means that the epoxy hull is coming apart). In the end the truth is in the eye of the beholder. Apparently comparing brands doesn’t give you an decisive answer.
So let’s look beyond the brands, what are the features you are looking for in a boat? Size is something to consider of course, but what about type and capacity of the engine? Do you prefer polyester, wood or steel? What’s the draft, water displacement and the capacity of fuel and water tanks? Should we go for a steering wheel or tiller? Is a sail drive necessary, and last but certainly not least, what about the looks and layout of the interior? When you start your search and you’ve never owned a sailboat before, you really have no clue which features are important. So based on assumptions, advise from different sources and gut feelings you create a list with specifics you’d like the boat to have. And then you compare that list to the specs of the boats of your search result. Chances are when you disregard all the boats that don’t match your preferences, you’re left with approx. 30 boats to choose from. Still quite a lot. But since we were looking for a sailboat to travel with and live on it narrowed down our choices quite a bit more.
An image on a screen only says so much, thus our next step was to get in the car and drive to the various marinas to survey the boats in real life. And that meant hours and hours in a car, kilometre after kilometre to remote townships you didn’t even knew existed. You find yourself wandering over docks and climbing on wobbly ladders to survey the carefully selected boats. Well, survey…It’s hard to look for possible defects if you don’t know what defects look like, or what even a possible defect could be. And some red flags we know we should be heeding are not directly visible, like osmosis if the boat is in the water, or how the engine runs if she’s on the hard. So after the first surveys it was back to the great hive mind to find out how to look for signs that your dreamboat might be pig in a poke.
One thing we soon came to realise during the first surveys, is that standing height is probably the most important aspect if you want to spend a prolonged time inside a boat. Secondly the sleeping area, often the forward cabin, should be big enough to comfortably sleep in for the two of us (and of course our cat Captain Fluffy who doesn’t like to sleep alone). Thirdly, the sitting area and table need to be spacious enough for both of us to work at. And we need space for Captain Fluffy’s litter box. All and all we had a lot of other major and minor wishes to add to our wish list after our first surveys.
We looked at boats that needed work, boats above our price range, boats that had just one of the major elements on our wish list to compare and come to a thought-out decision. Chances are you probably won’t find the perfect boat, especially if you’re dealing with a tight budget like we were. Along the way we learned that some wishes were more important than others and some were downright unrealistic. But the most decisive element is the feeling you’ll get when you enter the boat for the first time. Some boats had it all on paper and looked spectacular on photographs, but felt cramped, were totally impractical to move around in or smelled really bad (later on we learned that such a foul vinegary smell might be an indicator of severe osmosis). Or some just didn’t feel good, without any specific reason. Just like with people, with some boats you just don’t have a connection.
We’ve spent months looking for the right boat. Based on our wish list, our budget and our gut feeling we made the final decision. It didn’t have an oven, which was one of our major wishes. It needed quite some work like new electronic equipment and wires, new trough-holes, new upholstery and new sails to name but a few. And it was on the small side for a liveaboard vessel. A lot of reason for doubt, therefore we’ve surveyed the boat 3 times before we decided to buy her. But in spite of all the disadvantages we steadily grew more fond of her, and she seemed to look more warm and happy with each visit. So in the end we choose this boat. It just felt good.
So here we are, proud owners of a 31ft. sailboat, named ‘De Kim’ which means horizon in Dutch. A very promising name.
