Back from Bermuda

This is going to be a big post. It's all about adventure and the high seas and exotic locals and the stuff of dreams, at least for cruising sailors. Ok, maybe not all that. But some surely.

I've just finished a delivery trip from Bermuda on Laura's boat, Cassiopeia, a Beneteau 42 7, pictured here. She's pretty fast, light and nimble. She had just finished the Newport-Bermuda Race ( http://www.bermudarace.com ) where she got the first ever combined Marion-Bermuda Newport Bermuda award for her class. Read all about it at the bermudarace link. But of course, she needs to get back, too, for all her summer fun on the Long Island Sound.

Anyway, Laura invited me to crew her back. I've wanted to try offshore sailing for some time, longer than a coastal travel to Norfolk. This seemed like an excellent chance. So I flew Jet Blue's new route to Bermuda for $149.00 one way. It may be more now. But here's the thing: If you're going somewhere and Jet Blue flies there, take them. They are the best. Fast, friendly, efficient, and really comfortable. If you have any doubts any business can be so well run and so customer oriented, let me dispell them right now. They're great!

Before I go on, there's one more plug: Vibramfivefingers. They say it's like walking barefoot. They're correct - they're on the pricey side at $70.00 per pair, but if you need surefooted walking on a boat deck these are the shoes. They're like gloves for your feet. I only have two complaints - they don't breathe very well and they are a little hard to get on right in the dark. But you can literally wear them for days at a time - they dry pretty quickly and they're really comfortable. They're surprisingly protective of toes, too. All the advantages of bare feet with the protection of boat shoes. Highly recommended.

Ok, back to Bermuda. I arrived June 23. Julie, one of our crew, was on the same flight. We checked in to Customs and Immigration together. If you're going to bring a boat back from Bermuda, there's a $21.00 exit fee you must pay when you go through customs. It was a breeze to get through. Four of us shared a really expensive cab trip to Hamilton where the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club is. The club is spectacular and with all the racing boats decked out, it was amazing to look at.

Well, it was party time there. The club is one of the hosts for the Newport-Bermuda race and they put on a bash that is not to be believed. But when Julie and I got to the boat I met John and the captain for the delivery, Trevor, we found the boat in need of some work and wanted some provisions. Trevor, at left, and Julie went to town to gather up some stuff to eat for the trip back. John, who raced Cassie down, went to the party, and I started to put slides back on the old mainsail so we could use it. Laura didn't want us using her new racing sails.

We worked on Cassie getting her ready until about 9 pm and then went to town for a good night dinner. It was nice, but really expensive. Bermuda is sweet, but expensive - everything. The next morning I was going to get a bacon and egg sandwich, but it was like $10.00 - and Bermudian dollars are not significantly different from US dollars. Anyway we decided we needed fishing gear for the trip back so we could get our meals from the sea - and I scoured Hamilton until I found a little store behind City Hall that sold diving and fishing gear.

Well, I'm no fisherman and apparently neither was anyone else on the crew, so you can imagine the proprietor's amusement when I told him I needed some line, hooks, and lure to catch some fish on the way home. He was very helpful in choosing 85lb line, and some #9 hooks, and a couple of lures. I told him what we were going to do he didn't laugh out loud. Very kind. Anyway after acquiring the stuff, it was back to the boat. Cassie was all watered up and Trevor was checking us out of Bermuda Customs and Immigration.

Then it was time to go. First we had to motor over to St. Georges for fuel. It's about an hour's ride and we were checking out Cassie to make sure all the systems were running ok. We took the opportunity to bend on the cruising jib and all get to know each other a little more. Bermuda is beautiful and I really didn't want to leave. You have to see it to believe it. Navigation, however, is very, very important. The charts of the area are pretty good, and you absolutely have to obey them. Unless, of course, you have or want a shallow draft boat. Stay in the marked channels. It's a volcanic island. There's not a hell of a lot of sand outside channels but there's a lot of rock.

St. George is a tiny little harbor on the northeast side of Bermuda with a 150' cut through rock that gets you in there. It's well marked but until you're lined up on the channel, it doesn't look as if there's a place to go. Well worth the visit and it's a great place to get fuel. Sorry I don't have any pictures.

We left St. George under power while we got some navigation done - we wanted to be sure we were clear of the rocks, coral, and what have you before we turned northwest for home. Although the way is well marked, if you don't understand that the marks are spindly little towers, you might not know that's what they were. There were about five or ten boats leaving with us and that night we could see their nav lights while we all sailed for home. We had set the spinnaker in the late afternoon and were cruising along in light swell at 7 to 8 knots.

Julie and Trevor's provisioning was well put to use the first night - Julie, even though feeling a bit under the weather, still managed a great first night's meal with chicken and rice. Trevor had assigned three hour watches for the trip, with me taking 6 - 9, Julie, 9-12, John, 12 - 3, and Trevor from 3 - 6. I happened to like my shift. Not sure about anyone else, though.

The water around Bermuda is a deep turquois and around 85 degrees F. For the first night and next day we were just getting acclimated to each other and the boat. Cassie was spectacular - on a broad reach in 15 to 20 knots (true) wind she just flew! Although the auto pilot, 'Ray', handled the steering most of the time, John usually spent his watches hand steering for "something to do".

Well, of course, we couldn't sail the exact rhumb line to Ambrose, so every twelve hours or so we had to jibe. With the cruising spinnaker it was just easier to take the sock down, move the whole mess around the headstay, and reset the thing.

After the second day out (Monday), we took down the spinnaker and reset the jib. The wind was steady at 20 knots and gusting higher, and the seas were building to 8 - 10 feet. Cassie was still plowing along at 7 to 9 knots.

Tuesday we slowed down to 6 to 7 knots - mostly because the wind was a little less, but since the weather fax indicated an area of low pressure to move across our path we decided not to reset the spinnaker. Also, there was significant wear on the spin halyard and we didn't want to risk losing the halyard down the mast. It's a pain to re-reeve.

This seemed like a good time to troll for dinner. So with John's help I attached weights and the lure to a spool of 89 lb test line, and set about 200 yards out. Now, I've never fished. I've always felt that it's easier to hunt at the supermarket than in the great outdoors. So far, I've been pretty successful at that endeavor. The other crew were nearly as clueless. Anyway, having learned that alcohol in the gills will kill fish right away, I had a bottle of rum handy on deck. The line ran through the stern rail over the transom and out.

After about 20 minutes Trevor mentioned very calmly that I have a fish on the line - and sure enough, the line was tight - cool! We wanted to get Julie and John up to see the 'old man of the sea' get his fish. Well, they were totally out to the world - so, no pictures. I was too busy reeling the fish in. It was a wahoo, about 15 to 20 lbs, perhaps 18 - 24" long. I know you're thinking, "Yeah sure - it was thiiiiis big!" Really.

However, there wasn't any plan to get it aboard. We didn't want to club it to death in the cockpit because that's just too messy, and you'll notice that a wahoo is a pretty evil looking fish - it's called an 'ocean barracuda'. To Trevor and I it looked big enough to hurt us. So, dragging this fish along at the transom, it's looking up at me like it's saying, "Ok, you stupid bastard, what now? You caught me. Here I am ready to die for you, and you can't even get me aboard!" and with that leapt of the hook.

Right, well, new plan - Cassiopeia has an opening transom that has a swim platform. Trevor and I decided to use it as a fish well. Open it up partially, drop the fish in, close the thing, wait for the fish to die.

We set the line out again but to no avail - the wind was rising for the evening and we were going too fast for trolling. Since I was on watch at nightfall, I got to see the stars come out - Julie came up a little early for her watch and taught me about Scorpio, and Antares - the heart of Scorpio - also, about the Summer Triangle formed by Vega, Altair, and Deneb. She pointed out how to find Cassiopeia, and the two main stars of Orion, Rigel (lower right) and Betelgeuse (upper left).


The next day we were cruising along at 6 to 7 knots again so out went the line. We were approaching the Gulf Stream and the water was getting warmer. It only took about half an hour this time to hook a fish, and this time the whole crew was awake for the spectacle! John and Julie took up the photo journalist positions while I dragged the fish to the boat - there wasn't much fight until the sucker was right near the boat, and then it was pretty exciting!

Trevor got the transom opened, and I finally dragged the fish into it - then Trevor closed it, and there you have it - one fish captured! We all thought this was some kind of tuna, and weighed approximately 10 -12 lbs. Anyway, John took the time to teach me how to gut a fish using a cutting board on the fully open transom. Then when it was all cleaned, I cut it into 6 big steaks and two pretty big filets. It tasted like tuna, but I can't find any pictures that match it.

That evening, Julie cooked up a spectacular meal of what we'll call fresh tuna and tomatoes and avacado and black beans and salsa with fresh lime. It was amazing. A team effort, and of course, eating the thing you killed yourself is always appealing. Frankly, after all the effort, I still can't see the pleasure in fishing for fun. For food, yes, but just to show you're smarter than the fish?

Anyway, as night fell and the stars came out, the wind and the seas picked up - they were running 8-10 feet, wind gusting over 25 knots. As we were getting closer to the Gulf Stream, the seas continued to pile up. But Cassiopeia was screaming along on a broad reach behaving like a lady!

Here's something: You have not seen stars like a night at sea with no moon. You may think you have. You may have even seen the sky from Montana, the Big Sky State. But it's nothing compared to this. On a clear night like ours were the Milky Way is so bright it looks like a cloud that spans the sky - there are so many stars! We just don't get to see them like that anywhere near the coast of any country. The light pollution just overwhelms most of the stars. Even after my watch I had to stay up and just gaze at them. Julie is a fount of knowledge about these things - so I got to learn alot, too. But just staring at them. If it wasn't for the fact that I was really really tired I'd have gotten the binocs and gotten comfortable on deck and just looked around.

There were some rain showers during the night - or so I hear. But the next morning we were into the gale - the seas had grown to 15 feet or so and the wind had been over 35 knots for more than a few minutes. But it soon settled down to 25 to 30 and once again, Cassie was a lady - we were hitting 10 and 11 knots regularly, with speed normally 8 or 9 knots. John saw the record for the trip - 12.6 knots. I only got to 12.4. Oh, well.

Now there's a big difference between a gale in sunny weather and a gale in crappy weather, at least psychologically. In the sun, it's an exciting sail. In crappy weather, it's frightening. Same wind, same sea state. Also, we were so very glad we weren't headed towards Bermuda - that would have sucked bigtime!

I was told the Gulf Stream would be noticible - Except for wave trains in two different directions, I couldn't see it. The water was much warmer than outside it, but it didn't smell different, or look different. It might just have been this time. Who knows?

Here's a tidbit of knowledge - Big ships are required to monitor channel 16 on the VHF. This is a good thing, and you should, if you're offshore, keep your VHF on 16 as well. Here's why: In the middle of the worst of the blow, we noticed a large tanker in what could very well have been a collision course with us about a mile or two away. Well, naturally we're supposed to give way but that would have meant heading up into the big waves or jibeing in really rough seas.

So, Trevor told me to contact the ship - I hailed it with "Red tanker near latitude xx yy.zzz north, longitude xxx yy.zzz west, this is the sailing vessel Cassiopeia" and repeated it two more times. Suddenly a voice responded, "This is the big red tanker near you Cassiopeia." So on it went - we talked and I asked if they could see us. They indicated they hadn't but now that we pointed it out, sure. I asked if they thought they were on an intercept course, and they allowed they might be. I asked if they could alter course a few degrees until we passed. They asked me to wait a bit. About three or four minutes later they indicated they'd change course and pass astern of us.

How cool is that?

Here's another thing: In fog, this also works. If you don't have radar and you're in a channel or approaching one, it doesn't hurt to broadcast a 'securite' on channel 16 giving your position, speed and course every few minutes. This gives big ships an indication of who and where you are. Powerboats are another story as they probably don't listen.

For the first three days it was brutally sunny - Trevor said after the first day the he wasn't sitting in the sun all day and promptly rigged up his sleeping bag as a sunshade. This resulted at first in great hilarity, and later watch standing in the shade. Every day we had to ask Trevor for his sleeping bag to rig. This worked perfectly! The sun was always from the appropriate direction because of our direction of travel.

When we left Bermuda, we noticed the radar reflector on the mast was, um, cockeyed. Really, it looked like it took a pretty hard knock, but it seemed ok. Sometime during the second night which was a little rough, one of the sides of the mounting broke and when I got on my watch I noticed that the thing was flopping around. So in this accompanying picture there is some discussion going on about what to do about the whole thing.

Sometimes, it's really good to be the heaviest person onboard. It means you're the last candidate to go up the mast. Conversely, it's not so good to be the lightest. Well John volunteered to go up and take the thing down before we lost it. Mission accomplished. Saved the reflector for the fog coming into New York harbor.

Well, when I went to sleep the fourth night out fog had started to come up - we had come through the Gulf Stream, and the water temperature had gone down into the 70's and it was becoming pretty cool. Since it was the last night, Trevor had us on doubled up watches to pay attention to the traffic coming in towards Ambrose light. Because of the now very dense fog, three were on watch - one to monitor the radar and two topsides to watch and listen for boats.

Remember what I said about channel 16? Well that's what we used all night - we had radar and helped other sailboats without it know where they were and what was around them. It was tense but not scary. I mean, it was pretty much flat calm.

The wind had died mostly, so we took the sails down and motored the last 50 or miles to the Verazzano Bridge. As we came up to the narrows, the fog lifted and the sun came out. We motored by the Statue of Liberty and took a group photo which I'll post soon.

We caught the East River at the right time, and zoomed up to Stamford and to Cassie's home berth. The whole trip was about 5 days and one hour. And a lifetime of fun!

There's nothing like a great sail for a long time with good people and a good boat.

I'll be seeing you on the water, but maybe offshore water!

Six Minute Project Brings Dinghy Back To Life

Way back in 1999, I got rid of my hard dinghy which was terrific for me, towed amazingly well behind my 30 foot Ranger, Wind Hawk, was easy to row in a straight line, but was too tippy for my non-swimming wife. I replaced it with an inflatible dinghy from West Marine on sale at the boat show. It was an early roll-up model, 7 - 1/2 feet long with non-removable slats in the bottom.

Just so you know - rowing an inflatible with no keel is really hard work. The flat bottom sucks the life out of the rower. Having said that, in the spring of 2002, I took the boat up to Cold Spring NY on the Hudson River across from West Point and Storm King Mountain.

Although I anchored really well for the night, I moved the boat so I could row ashore to meet my friends for lunch at Hudson House. In the middle of lunch, well actually just as we ordered, I noticed Inertia dragging upriver at a not insignificant speed. Nothing would do but that I run back to the dinghy and row as fast and as hard as I could to catch the errant boat. In the process, both oarlocks become bent and virtually useless. I ended up paddling like a canoeist. That is especially hard.

I'm too lazy to use the motor. I have to carry gasoline (I don't like it), get the motor serviced, lug it on and off the boat, and so forth. So I'd rather row or paddle. Also, since I'm usually alone on the boat, I have one kyack and that pretty much does it for me. Anyway, I may have company on my cruise this summer, so I thought I'd make the dinghy useful again by replacing the oarlocks. You can see how cheesey the whole arrangement is.

The first thing you have to do is remove the line from the oarlock by undoing it from the stern fitting. It turns out that Zodiac made a really nice sharp hard end on the line when the cut it. These two images, although blurred show this. With a fid or marlinspike it comes apart really easily and pulls out of the oarlock.

Next, there's a plastic E - clip on one side of the oarlock. It turns out to be on the right as you look from the outside of the boat in. I just used two screwdrivers to pry it out - it comes out really easily once you get a grip. It's going to stretch an may even break if your boat's been out in the sun alot. I've kept mine in the garage so it's in good shape. Don't worry - the replacement kit comes with a new one.


Once that comes out, the shaft slides out and the whole thing comes apart. Note that the shaft has a hole in it - that's where the little pin on the E - clip goes. Also, there are side thingies I didn't take out because I didn't need to.





Here are all the replacement parts along with the old - It's pretty obvious how it all goes back together. The addition is that there's a clip that installs on the shaft that holds the new oar holder in. The shaft on the new holder has a bolt through it so it's good and strong. And it locks in. Both really big improvements. It's important that when you put the new E-clip in, you get the pin in the hole in the shaft. Here's the kit part number: Zodiac Z60044 Oar Lock Adapter Kit. You can try to get it at BoatersWorld, but I got mine at Defenders. They had it, they answered the phone, and that was that. I have to admit, though, the BoatersWorld guy actually went to look at the part.

And now, the piece de resistance: Here it is, all installed with the oar holder both out and in. All that's left to do is to re-reeve the rope, tie it back off like it was and you're done!

This works only with older Zodiacs - pre-2002. From the pictures you should be able to see if it'll work for you.

I'll be seeing you on the water, but with my dinghy, too.

It's Been a Crapload of Time

Well, you can see that, I suppose. The sailing season has started and frankly, between work and actually sailing, fooling around on the boat, messing about with other peoples boats, and social events both at the yacht club and with the usual group of suspects, I've been just to darned tired to write.

In the winter, you can dream of boating. But when it's here - you have to go at it with a vengence. As Robert Heinlein said, "Anything worth doing is worth doing to excess."

Let me start with today and work backwards. There was no sailing today but I came up with a spectacular way to cook salmon and almost anything else like chicken and pork (not beef, though, unless it's veal).

First, you'll need a frying pan with a cover. Next, you'll need about 1/2 pound of whatever meat you're going to eat (see above). You'll need a nectarine or peach - good sized one, about 2 heaping teaspoons of chopped garlic, one teaspoon of capers, something spicy - like cayenne pepper or I use Mrs. Dash Extra Spicy, and a tablespoon to 2 tablespoons of either cream cheese or sour cream. You'll need 1/2 cup or so of water, too.

I have a non-stick pan so I use that.

First, I sliced the nectarine up in crescents and popped it in the pan on low heat. Then I threw the salmon in, skin side down (this was a filet). On top of all that I put the garlic and capers. Then I covered it for about two minutes. Then I turned the salmon over and removed the skin because I don't happen to like it. Also, I added the water and recovered the pan.

After a bit (and you'll have to check it) the salmon is steamed through and through (check the meat if you're not using salmon). Then when it was cooked nicely, I took it out and mooshed the stuff in the pan about and added the cream cheese and mixed it all up.

Then, of course, I poured all that goody stuff on the salmon. It was so good, I had to send an email out to a friend, and now, here you are, recipients of the same wisdom. You won't be sorry!

Now, Laura needed to get her boat to Barrington, RI in preparation for the Newport-Bermuda race. Cassiopeia finally passed her righting moment test, and now needed just some more stuff to pass her safety test. Her rigger put all new lifelines on. Before we left, we had to install a new bilge pump that could be operated inside the boat with it all closed up. Because of the time limit, we decided to tie it into the current secondary bilge pump line. Also, there wasn't a lot of places to put it.

We ended up putting it in the midship settee. Here's me working on the plumbing. You can see the pump handle cover on the side of the settee base.

For the trip, however, we called together the Nincompoop Crew - Laura, captain nincompoop, Herb, Chris, and I. The trip totally sucked - we were supposed to leave Friday evening around 9 pm to catch the tide, but the engine wouldn't start. It did at midnight, though. Too late. So we all slept until 5 am and left then.

The day sucked. It rained all day pretty much, and the wind was 12 to 15 on the nose. We decided to stop at Saybrook, CT. And then we partied into the night at the Dock and Dine right on the pier. Woohoo! They had Yukon Jack. 'Nuff said.

The next day, we again left at the crack of dawn. Oops, fuel gauge says, "You're almost out of fuel!". We popped into the fuel dock at Fisher's Island. What a beautiful place! There's no services, only a little town, but as a quiet anchorage, it's well protected and spectacular. I'm telling you this so you'll stay away. There's nothing for you there. Move along now.

The trip from Fisher's Island to Barrington was uneventful, if long. We got there just in time to get the train back to Stamford CT to pick up the car and go home. What a long day - it took me all Monday to recover.....

In the meantime, Inertia was having a terrible problem. In order to start the engine, I had to smack the instrument panel. And the smacking was getting harder and harder. So I thought I'd have at it. It turns out the 'marininzed' engine really isn't other than the raw water pump on the PTO shaft and heat exchanger instead of a radiator.

I've spoken about this before - if you have a Universal diesel engine you have a Kubota engine. There's a company, Engine Power Source that carries parts for Kubota engines. Now, you have to be careful because Universal, now Westerbeke, removes the Kubota part numbers and engraves their own.

It's a really irritating process but I can see why - the injectors, for instance, cost $45 from Engine Power Source, but $185 from Westerbeke. Are they the same. They are. Marinization is external to the power block. It doesn't include injectors, injector pump, starter, alternator, glow plugs, or any of the other stuff. Even the fresh water pump is stock. Westerbeke doesn't even change the color. The copper color is the Kubota trademark color. Even Beta Marine repaints the engine red. It's still a Kubota, but it's red.

You know, Herb has one in his boat. I wonder if it has the Kubota part numbers on the block... Hmmmm. I have to check that out.

Anyway the Engine Power Source people are extremely helpful. They'll even help you identify the engine. Give them a call.

But I digress. All the engine panel wiring is just straight copper, no tinning, nothing. Well, all the ground crimp fittings were falling apart. So I had to recrimp every single one of them. Took me a couple of hours, but hey! presto! the engine starts.


On Memorial Day weekend, the usual group of suspects got to party - Herb and Gina, Bob and Carol, Bobbie and Warren, and Laura with Galley Girl (Cathy). Big party, lots of fun, but the water was too cold to swim.

We sailed from Port Jefferson, NY to Oyster Bay, NY and I got to set the new spinnaker! Woohoo! It was the best! I took off like a shot! Massive fun, well, after I got the whole thing untangled and set properly.....

I hope, someday, to have pictures.

For sure I'll see you on the water!

First Real Day of the Season 2006

This was an auspicious weekend! In fact, it was the 99th Going Into Commission Party for the City Island Yacht Club. It was great! Good food, good music, and of course, good company. It was a bit strange, however, getting dressed on the boat and stepping into the launch in a suit and tie.

Suits are not my thing. Really. Everyone who knows me knows that. So it was really unusual for me to wear it. But it was worth it.

This also meant there'd be 24 hour launch service for the season! And that, my friends, is terrific. No more buzz-kills swimming or kyacking back to the boat after an evening of heavy drink! No sirree, just saunter along the dock (nice and wide, new decking for the vertically challenged), wake up the launch driver, and try to tell them where your boat is without looking too foolish.

What a pleasure!

So after the party, I took the launch (did I mention, I could have taken it at 3:00am? Pick a time - I could take it!) to Inertia, and settled down for a wonderful sleep. The wind and water were just right, the temperature exquisite, all snuggly in my sleeping bag.

When I arose around 9:30, I noodled around, made some coffee, added a splash of solar powered refrigerated half and half, and listened to NPR. Around lunchtime, I closed up the boat, summoned the launch, and toddled off to the club for a bite of lunch.

After a terrific hamburger, I decided to go home to start work on Laura's dodger - I'm replacing the eisenglas on the sides and adding a new through-window port for her preventer. I've got most of the idea down, but am working on a way to prevent the preventer from wearing through the protector again and allow a flap to seal the hole when the preventer isn't rigged.

We'll see how successful I am. What I need is a bigger sewing machine, but I'll tax this one (a Kenmore) for a little longer.

Pictures when done!

The Memorial Day Weekend is shaping up nicely. Friends at different ports - should be fun! I'll probably go to the boat Friday and maybe sail to Connecticut to meet them.

Pictures when done, and more adventures!

See you on the water!

A Wonderful Sail

I suppose after my rant I should get back on track here. It's easy enough after all. I mean, how can you hold any anger when sailing with the boat humming along?

This June I'll be taking my first offshore passage of any length from Bermuda back to Staten Island, NY (just past the Verrazzano Bridge) in New York Harbor. It is about a five day trip. This will decide, in some way, my future. Do I cruise to the Caribbean? To England? To the Mediterranean? Or do I sell it all and get a small but functional RV and travel Canada, the United States, and Mexico? Hmmm?

One of our crew members for the trip back is Julie whom I invited for a sail. She's very much into weather predicting and routing and celestial navigation. Still, when you go offshore with an unknown crew, you'd like to know that they're someone you can depend on. And of course, I'd like her to know the same, so going for a sail was a pretty good way to introduce ourselves.

The day was cloudy, but comfortable in the mid sixties with the wind predictably nowhere near NOAA said it would be - out of the east-southeast at about 10 to 12. In other words, perfect to see how the boat really handles with the new sails. It's the first time I've been able to sail for an extended period on one tack or another and fiddle fart around with the trim.

So we sailed off the mooring, around the southern tip of City Island, up between Hart Island (Potters Field) and City Island, through the channel between David's Island and
Hart Island, down to Manhassett Bay, back north of Execution Rock Light, southeast to Hempstead Bay, and then wing-on-wing back to City Island Yacht Club.

The sails handled magnificently, although I'd like the clew of the jib to be a little higher so I don't have to skirt it after each tack. Also, with the clew so low, in light winds I can't flatten the sail without the top hitting the shrouds. In higher winds when the jib car goes back and twists the top off, no worries. All in all though, wonderful. Listen: I'm still thrilled with the sails, and you will be too if you call Somerset Sails.

We picked up the mooring under sail in only two tries, and miraculously, no one got hurt! Another successful sail!

After putting the boat away, we popped into the club for a bit of a tipple. Mmmm. Well and good. Then the drive home.

I've met a friend for life, and would not only sail anywhere with her, but invite her aboard Inertia without reservation. She knows her stuff (actually, she knows a lot more than I do, but I found that out later, much to my embarrassment... Oh well. Color me red.)

Plans are afoot for Memorial Day weekend, and next week, the Commissioning Party at the Club. I am just still tickled pink to say that. Maybe next year I'll get used to it. Hey, maybe not.

I'll get some pictures together, and now that the work stuff is done, they'll be playtime pictures. The only project I'd like to show you is the repair to the seating in Cassiopeia. It's interesting in an engineering sort of way. Let's see if it works.

Until then, though, I'll see you on the water.

Just WTF Are We Thinking?

Normally, I wouldn't use this as a forum for opinions other than those associated with boating. I mean, why on earth would you care what I thought about, say, Social Security. There are those who might ask why they should care about my opinions on boating.

That aside, yesterday I helped my longest and best friend, Leigh, do some trim work on a house of a friend of his. Apparently, the contractor had gone bankrupt or whatever, and wasn't working on the house. There are other financial considerations but they're not the important thing right now.

What is important is that the quality of work done in a very expensive addition and remodeling project is awful. I've avoided carpentry for most of my life - woodworking escapes me for some reason. Glass, metal, plastic, electronics, electrical, plumbing, and so forth - no problem. With carpentry, I could not get the quality I wanted out of the work I do. I have no idea why. I know how to measure (you'd be surprised at how many people don't). I can use power tools. I can even use really, really big power tools (like excavators).

But I can't seem to get wood to work properly.

Apparently, I've been worrying needlessly. It's clear that the contractor at this job hired less than skilled workers for the job. Sadly, nearly every doorframe we put the trim on was wracked or twisted. What should have been a four or so hour job took all day since every single cut except for four were custom.

It is sad to see someone spend so much time and money for an addition and get so thorougly screwed - and the subcontractors, too.

There is a point to all this saddness - and it really does make me sad - namely, where are we going as a people, as a nation? We complain about the quality of work, yet we work so terribly or accept awful work. We complain about nonskilled workers taking our jobs, but we won't do them.

We want more money, more benefits, more of everything but we don't want to work for it. We have an overrated estimate of our own worth. Just a hint: We're worth no more and no less than anyone else.

It makes me really angry that a contractor can behave so badly. And he'll get away with it, too, I'm sure. And that's really sad.

That's the end of my rant for today.

Tomorrow - down to the boat for a little sailing, weather permitting. Well even if not. Still gotta go!

Hope to see you on the water!

Getting Cassiopeia Ready

One of the great thing about hanging around marinas and having friends that do things like the Newport to Bermuda race is that you get to see some very cool stuff going on. Often, you get to help, especially if it involves moving a lot of heavy stuff around. How could you not participate in that?

We moved Cassiopeia, a Beneteau 42.7 from Norwalk, Connecticut on Saturday - it was just a two hour ride, easy as pie. Since no sails were aboard, no sailing occured, but we still managed to down a box of Triscuits, a pound of Brie cheese, and a hot soprasata. Can't go sailing without food, you know.

Anyway, after arriving at Stanford, Ct. for the summer berth, I took off to my boat, now at the City Island Yacht Club (CIYC from now on). How I got Inertia there is a story of motoring through the rain and fog from Haverstraw the weekend before. That week, it was Triscuits, cheddar cheese, and pepperoni. But that's another story.

I spent the afternoon taking down my small headsail and rehoisting my big genoa. Then I had to go sailing, and because the wind was light, I practiced docking under sail and picking up my mooring under sail. If you own a sailboat, you should do this, too. It's fun and educational. Once again, I digress.

So, after putting the boat away, I had dinner at the club. Let me repeat: I had dinner at the club. I love saying that. My friends will soon get sick of me saying it. I suppose I will, too, when the novelty wears off. But for now, I must reiterate, I had dinner at the club.

Ok, Sunday, (today), we had to go back to Cassiopeia to help the measurer measure her for the Newport - Bermuda race. Laura had two measurements made: ORR and IRC. You can look what they mean somewhere else. But the ORR measurement involves, in addition to some underbody measurements while the boat is out of the water, calculating the righting moment of the boat. For the Newport - Bermuda race, the righting moment must be 115 degrees or better.

The righting moment is a measurement of the ability of a boat to right itself if knocked down. Clearly, a boat with a low righting moment, like 90 degrees means that if the boat assumes an attitude of mast parallel to the water or lower, it will continue and turn over. That's not good. Boats like Sunfish's and so forth have a low righting moment - very easy to turn over. 115 degrees means that the mast can be up to 115 degrees from verticle and the boat will still right itself.

If you could get a boat to behave like a Weeble (Weebles wobble but they don't fall down), the you could have a really safe boat.

The way to measure this is to hang long poles out from the boat with lots of weight on them - and then move the weights and measure what happens to the boat. Well, it's a little more complex than that, but essentially, you want to tip the boat and see how hard it was to do.

Also, because there are other measurement systems, like IRC, other rules apply; namely, you have to remove everthing from the boat except what it came with. Do you have any idea how much crap an empty boat has in it? Laura emptied hers before winter. This is what's left. Or half of it anyway. It continues along the finger, too.

Once the deck measuring was done, we sent Laura up the mast for all the measurements for sail hoist, mast height, and headstay length.

In case you're wondering what this whole thing costs besides a few hours with all your friends moving all your crap around is about $600. If you're serious about racing, especially offshore, this is what you'll need to do.

On another entirely different note, there is a company in Northport, Long Island that is owned and run by a really cool guy- a boater's engineer. The company is Sailor's Solutions, and I've put the link on the sidebar. If nothing else, call and get a catalog. There's really stuff you need and didn't know you needed it or that it even existed.

Their flagship product used to be their very own designed and manufactured sound proofing for engine rooms called SPM. If your engine is noisy and your sound insulation is falling apart, replace it with this stuff. It's great. I used it and even though I couldn't get to the aft wall of the engine room to remove or replace the old stuff, installing SPM still reduced the engine noise so much that I could actually listen to the radio down below when motoring. Highly recommended. It's strong (not like that mylar/foam stuff), it's solid foam with stiff surface, and it sticks like the dickens.

After I replaced all my interior lights with the LED's I started looking for navigation lights. It turns out Sailor's Solutions has designed and manufactured with the help of NASA some very cool lighting solutions. They were kind enough to send me a SensiBulb (their name) to try out. It has a slew of advantages, including being a yellowish light instead of the blue white, and it has temperature sensing so that it doesn't allow the LEDs to get too hot. Apparently they fail at 140 degrees - I didn't know that.

Soon they'll be carrying the new OPM navigation lighting. I want it. They'll have the best price, too, since I've also asked about that, too.

So more on that later - but really, give them a shout. I got a copy of their catalog and darn it all, there's stuff I want - even a really excellent winch handle holder. You don't know you need it. But you do. Trust me.

Anyway, it's sailing season - so now I really will see you on the water!

WOW! Simply WOW!

First, let me say this: I've been sadly derelict in my blogly duties. Sorry. There's much to report, and since I had to participate in these things, I didn't really have the time to write. Well, not strictly true. I was too tired.

That said, here goes. First, April 8th was the big opening of the City Island Yacht Club's kitchen for the year. So the club put on a wine tasting (mmmm...Wine...) and of course you could have dinner. My friend Laura came along, and we had a terrific time! The food was good and very reasonably priced. I don't believe I'll have any problem meeting my $500/year minimum. None at all.

It was amazing - when I visited in February, the place was a total disaster - walls torn apart, holes, general confusion. Yet Saturday last, it was beautiful! Newly painted, and absolutely fantastic! I can't say enough. I suspect I'll be helping out this year. It's a club to be proud of, and I believe I made absolutely the right choice!

From the sublime to the mundane. Two projects needed finishing, the LED lighting with a red nav station light, and permanent mounting of the solar panels.

The nav station light was the hardest, believe it or not. First, I had purchased a red 19 LED single contact bayonet bulb for the purpose. Needless to say, I should have researched lighting first. The only manufacturer of bayonet socketed flexible gooseneck lights is Sea Dog, and theirs is a double contact socket. Ok, so I called them and no, they can't make one with a single contact. Feh!

Most of these new lights are xenon bulbs or high intensity bulbs with red filters. The sockets are nothing like anything useful for my purposes. So I purchased the light I wanted and ripped it apart. I epoxied an automotive single contact bayonet socket in it, and wired it all up. Great. The only thing I don't like is that the bulb is proud of the reflector, but you know what? if it becomes a problem, I'll think of something else.

Next, I've been struggling on how to mount the solar panels permanently. It has to be strong enough to support my weight without flexing, and preferably maintenance free. My choice for maintenance free material is HDPE (High Density PolyEthylene). It's essentially Starboard, but cheaper because it's generic. It's easily machinable with either woodworking tools or machine tools, and it is totally inert. I mean really, really inert. So inert that the only method of joining is mechanical.

So, with my friend Leigh's help, I built a platform with wedges under to make up the curve on the sea hood over the companionway hatch. Because the HDPE is not dimensionally stable (it does expand and shrink some) I attached it centerline to the hood. that way it can expand and contract.

The panels slide under an aluminum angle mounted on the forward edge, and are screwed into the mounting at the other end. Originally I wanted to be able to move the panels when at a dock, but I don't really see the need. They're fine where they are.

Wedges underneath in milled slots make up for the curve in the seahood. I can stand on them if necessary although I hardly ever walk right there. Laura was impressed. She said it looked as if they belonged there.

We went sailing Easter day when it was sunny. The panels provide enough power in bright sunlight to power the stereo, autopilot in standby mode, depth and speed instruments and still charge the batteries. I haven't yet tried them on the chartplotter or autopilot in active mode, but I hardly ever ust the chartplotter, and autopilot only long enough for food and head breaks. More on this later, of course. So far, though, I've been able to get a little over 2 amps out of the panels.

Finally, yesterday the wind was 20 to 25 knots out of the northwest. I wanted to try the new yankee, so I wrestled down the big jib, and set it. Wow! Holy Smokes! I can see this becoming my favorite sail! With just that sail we tooled along at 4 to 6 knots! The boat was totally controlable, and the sail and rig hardly stressed at all. It's perfect! I am thorougly impressed! If you need sails - call Martin at Somerset Sails. Mention my name. I don't know that will help, but it can't hurt.

This summer I'm going to get my friend Lou to take pictures of Inertia under sail. That's how tickled I am with her.

I hope to see you on the water - soon, too!

Spring is Definitely Here Now

Yesterday it was in the 70s! True, it was threatening rain and blowing up a stink, but very pleasant to work below on the last big project for this year, the solar panel installation.

This required bringing in wires from the seahood (the thing that covers the open companionway hatch) where the panels will be mounted, to the battery bank 1 (the house bank).

Speaking of which, I was watching the Xantrex charge monitor and realized it wasn't indicating battery charging - power always went down, never recovered, which is one of the monitor's big pluses. So a quick call to Jack Rabbit Marine, and some patient explaining by Steve, moving two wires, and badaboom badabing, fuggedabouddit. Here's the thing, all the ground wires must be on the load side of the shunt. That's important - even the charging source grounds. So I moved the shorepower battery charger's ground and the starting battery's ground, and that's that. Also, the solar panel's ground was attached there, but more on that later.

Right, then, back to the solar panels. This is a simple wiring job, and because there is no simple way to electrically from the deck to the batteries with an intermediate cabin stop, I ended up with some exposed wire, but I'll cover that later.

The only interesting thing about the whole installation is that I used wire from Ancor that's round with two #12 conductor wire, one red, one yellow. "Huh?", you might say. "Yellow? Why yellow?"

Traditionally the ground wire in 12 volt systems is black. That's fine on a car where it's all 12 volts. What about in mixed 120 VAC/12 VDC systems like a boat? Black wires are hot for 120 VAC (the others, white is neutral and green is ground). So to avoid confusion, let alone some spectacular sparking, fire, and possible electrocution, ABYC, NMMA, and other boat building associations have decided to make 12 VDC ground yellow.

You might wonder, then, why I used red and black on the rebuilt lights. That's a reasonable question. Nothing, I mean, nothing can be more confusing than changing the color of a wire mid circuit. Even though the lighting connections are very obvious, it's better not to 'improve' on what's already there. For new circuits, use the new standard. Red, hot, yellow, ground.

Back to the solar panels. I decided to put a panel connection on either side of the cabin rather than one connection requiring the panels to be tied together. This is so I can reposition them independently for dockside. Jack Rabbit Marine supplied me with the watertight connectors and the wire clams for going through the deck. I decided on this arrangement because I won't crack anything by stepping on it. Also, it's pretty much out of the way. There's one on the starboard side, too.

Next, I installed a terminal block in the headliner to join the panel leads. This also allows future expansion, should I need it. Here you can see the red and yellow wires. The panels are connected nearest to you and the battery feed is, obviously, on the other side. The terminal block is mounted on a very thick fiberglass pad that the old traveller is bolted to.


Next, the solar charge monitor panel was installed in a place where I could run most of the wire out of sight in the hanging locker, through a bulkhead into the battery box. The ground, of course, is attached to the shunt and the hot to the main battery bank. The wire I'll cover as soon as I figure out how, but here's what I have to say about that - there is no, I mean no place on a boat for silicone sealant. It virtually guarantees a leak and one that's impossible to fix. However, a little dab behind the wire and it holds it to the wood like that's what it's meant for.

Finally, here's where the cells are going. I'll add another picture when I finish the mount, but this essentially is it. The devices will keep the batteries totally charged, and in bright sun, run the refrigerator as planned.

I'll see you on the water, but with fully charged batteries!

Changing the Lighting

Part of the comprehensive program to manage power is to reduce loads. Although we tend not to think about it, because they're so small, is lighting. An incandescent bulb uses a lot of power. Since installing the Xantrex battery monitor, it's easy to see how much current is being drawn and how much time I have left before needing to recharge the house bank.

Also, until now the cost of white LED (Light Emitting Diode) lights have been prohibitive - but one of our sailing buddies has found the Super Bright LED site where you can purchase LED bulbs for interior lighting up to and including navigation lights. Laura is replacing her low down lamps which draw 25 watts each (or a little over 2 amps each) with LEDs that draw .2 amps each! That's some savings - especially when overnight racing.

Another incentive to change the lighting is that one of my overhead lights' bulb burned out and in the process of replacing it, the whole thing fell apart. Since I had to replace the fitting anyway, I thought I'd try the LED thing, which is less expensive by an order of magnitude than replacement of the fitting.

Above is an example of the kinds of power saving possible - at least with a spot/reading lamp. The first picture is of the Xantrex reading with the incandescent bulb, and the other with the LED. To get the thing to work, I had to rewire the lamp because the LEDs are polarity-sensitive. This is important, because I thought the bulbs were bad, but when all three didn't work, I knew that wasn't the case. But these bulbs (bayonette, one contact) are $9.99 each and they last for 10,000 hours.

You can see the difference is marked - 1.5 amps to .3, and this is the biggest brightest bulb I could get (19 LEDs as opposed to 12).

So, I removed all the other lighting fittings and brought them home so I could work in comfort. First, I disassembled the lamps. They're typical Guest lamps. They're cheaply built, and have only been saved from certain corrosion into oblivion by the fact that Herb and I keep a really dry boat. The only thing I kept from the fitting was the switch. This picture shows the fittings beforehand. Notice I'm replacing those silly bulbs with a 36 diode array. Also notice the array has a socket on it, which I'm going to remove. The bulb in the fitting is held by two cheap clamps, and they fall apart when you remove the bulb.

The first step is to remove everything and clean up the fitting. I used a drill to remove the remaining bulb holders, and de-soldered the switches. It turns out the wiring was all cheap - like speaker wire, and showed corrosion inside insulation. So, here's what I have to say about that: I hope Guest has upgraded their manufacturing. If they're making stuff for the marine industry, they should be doing it right with tinned wire.

Although you can't see it, the sockets are off the LED panels.



I drilled holes in the center of the fitting to run the LED's leads through. Next, I used a really terrific product, called 'AquaMend', an epoxy stick, that I got from West Marine, to attach the LED panels to the reflector side of the fitting. This stuff hardens in 5 minutes above the water or below! Everyone should have some. I made 1/2" balls and pressed the circuit board into them leaving the board slightly above the surface of the fitting to ensure there won't be any shorting.


Finally, on the other side, I soldered the red lead to the switch, extended the black lead, and soldered a new red lead to the switch. Then I tested the light with a 12V power supply. The last thing was to put a dab of 3M 5200 where the leads come through the reflector so that if the lamp hangs on the leads, the stress isn't on the solder joint on the circuit board.

I also crimped on spade fittings so that the next person to remove these lamps doesn't have to cut the wires.

I've reinstalled all these lamps and here's a picture. I think they will provide more light, and a much pleasanter white-blue color. I happen to like it, but not everyone will.


The last light, the spot, is pictured here all rewired.

There's Lots to Report

Ok, the solar panels are still waiting - I haven't received the wire I need to do the job, but everything else is here. These weeks in March are marked by 60 - 70 degree weather or 30 degree weather. And windy? Gale warnings almost all week.

Last weekend, though, Herb and I installed a new battery by cutting a hole in the area next to the current batteries (I explored that by cutting a small hole), installing a mount and hatch, setting the battery in, and wiring it up. Easy, huh? I thought it would be a couple of hours - it was all day, like 6 hours!

To review, I made the currently installed batteries a single bank (1), and the wire from bank 2, now is removed from the battery box (you can't see it, though).

First, I got a latching hatch cover from Defender, traced the opening, and cut it out. After making sure it fit, I epoxied the edges because oddly enough, that deck is balsa core. Who'd think it? Anyway, this particular hatch is strong, latches and is waterproof. Not that I need it there, but if you're thinking of putting one in your deck (for through cockpit sole engine access) this is a good one - the opening is 10 x 12", big enough for batteries...

Finally, using adhesives, marine putty and epoxy, mahogany bars, and some ingenuity with a sabre saw, I made a frame that will hold the battery level. I 3M 5200'd the battery holder to the frame, installed the battery, and wired it up. Cool.









This week, Laura and I are installed the Echo Charger from Xantrex. What it does is charge the starter battery when any charger source is on and the voltage is low on the starter battery. It's all automatic. And it isolates the charging systems from any of the load busses, which was one of the points of this exercise. The other, of course, is to make sure that even if I run the house batteries down, I still have power for starting the motor.

Mount the box somewhere (you can see I mounted it near the starter battery on the forward bulkhead of the new storage area. The rest turns out to be a simple three wire set up. Run the red to the main bank, run the white striped red to the starter battery, and the black to ground. Badaboom, badabing! Fuggeddaboudit!

Last Monday, my friend Leigh and I went for a hike in Tallman State Park, from Stateline Lookout in New Jersey to a very pretty little waterfall near Lamont Dougherty Geological Laboratory. It's a great little walk along the Palisades with excellent views of the lower Hudson River.

It was such lovely weather I had to take my shirt off! Beautiful!

I know you're getting tired of seeing Inertia at a dock, but Friday night I made patterns for the letters to the name and cut them out of self-stick UV treated white dacron. I'm happy to tell you all the technical crap, but I believe even you all have a limit... Anyway Martin of Somerset Sails offered a free riding sail, and so, there it ia along with the new sail cover.

If you don't know what it's for, it's for being at anchor or mooring. You set it to help stop the boat from 'sailing at anchor'. Most boats without full keels do that. You could also use it in the case that you're deploying a sea anchor to prevent the same sailing about it, too.

Monday is the first day of spring, so I'll be seeing you on the water real soon now!

A New Battery Monitor and News From Across the Pond

Before I go into this much, I have to say, I have some pretty terrific friends! Today Herb, Laura and I installed a new Xantex Battery Monitor from Jack Rabbit Marine on Inertia, and rewired my two batteries to be one bank. I purchased a new starting battery from West Marine to be my reserve on bank 2.

Rewiring the batteries was a snap - a couple of minutes. But getting the sensor/power cable from the power panel above the nav station to the batteries was a horror show - Herb took the whole lazarette apart to find a path for the thing, and finding that wasn't necessary, put the whole thing back together again!

Laura is doing essentially the same upgrades to her boat so was interested to see what this was all about, and got some pointers on how to do the wire crimping and so forth. And she has an incredible curiousity about all things mechanical/electrical on a boat. She's an awesome surgeon, yet thinks mechanical stuff is a mystery. Anyway, I'm glad to be able to impart some small wisdom to her.

Here are some quick pictures of the project.

Here's the nav station with the main board out, getting ready to cut a hole for the monitor. I decided to put the monitor below the 120v plug so I leave what little real estate I have in the removable panel for something special, like a radar display.

I really hate cutting holes in the boat - it seems so final. You really can't put the plug back in. Using the supplied template, I marked the center and the 4 screw holes. A 2" hole saw, and ba-da-boom, ba-da-bing, fuggeddaboudit!

Laura and Herb wired up the head (meter, whatever) according to the instructions. I was working in the battery well, so here's a picture of it wired. It turns out the terminal screws are little tiny screws - Laura volunteered to run to Grand Union and pick up an eye-glasses screwdriver for the task. Jack Rabbit provided 25 feet of 8 conductor cable for the installation - you only need 5 conductors unless you install the optional battery temperature monitor.

Here is the whole panel back in with the Xantex monitor on and functioning. Woohoo. The thing is incredible - it measures battery load down to .1 amp, and keeps track of amp hours used, number left (you have to tell it how many you have to begin with). And a whole bunch of other stuff. It's the beginning of an integrated power management system.

The batteries are two group 29's (an odd size, I'm told, but they really are. It says so right on the battery). Ok, so the battery farthest away is battery #2, and nearest, #1. If you take the time to follow the wires, you'll see there's two big red wires and one black that connects both grounds. Hence, two banks of one battery each.


Now, the batteries are paralleled and connected to the battery switch's #1 position for a big house bank. The other red lead is actually laying in the opening at the left. I was thinking of putting the started battery in that hole, but it crowds the stuffing box. So not there - as it turns out, there's a huge area to the right of the battery box that can be, what else? A new battery box. I'll install a 12" x 15" hatch. I don't understand why this wasn't made a storage locker when the boat was built.

Finally, the device you see before you is the heart of the battery monitor - basically it's nothing more than a really big low resistance resistor. The monitor monitors the current across it. (Actually the voltage drop, but close enough. It can calculate the current from that.) That big yellow wire is the ground - new marine wiring standards suggest the ground in boats should be yellow on 12 volt systems so the black doesn't get confused with black hot in AC systems. A great idea.

After a hard day's work on this completely successful installation, Gina had a wonderful turkey dinner ready for us! A couple of glasses of wine, great food, and summer plans. Also - Laura and I are replacing our interior lamps with white LEDs. There's a company Super Bright LEDs that has really good prices for the bulbs - and they have 1/10 the power requirements of incandescent bulbs. So I'll let you know about them.

Now for something completely different. Renee has tackled a huge project that seems to include ripping out her heating system and well, apparently the whole interior as well. I'm dying to see what it looks like, so I surely do hope she sends some pictures along. Big job, and she's indicated that sometimes you can have too much help!

Well, next week I'll be installing solar panels, I hope.

See you on the water!