The Blue View - Polishing the Fuel

 

In our early years of cruising, we learned the hard way about how important clean fuel is. I didn't worry about the fuel as long as the primary fuel filter looked clean. On one offshore passage, however, the seaways were a bit rough which churned the fuel enough to mix up all the sediment that had been lying benignly in the bottom of the tank. As we motored into a tight marina full of very expensive boats, I discovered how quickly the fuel filters could clog up, starving the engine of fuel. The old adage about aiming for the cheapest boat came to mind, but fortunately we managed to secure a line to a t-dock before damaging anything other than our pride.

As soon as we could, we hired a service to clean the tanks and polish the fuel. There was nothing magical about the process. They simply pumped the fuel out of each tank, processed it through a rather large industrial version of a marine diesel filter, then discharged it into another tank. They cleaned the inside of my tanks with a wand, and pumped the fuel back in, all for a rather outrageous price.

Since that expensive lesson, we have been a lot more careful about our fuel, and do what we can to prevent getting contamination into the tank. Our first line of defense is our old reliable Baja filter. We almost always use it when refueling at a marina or fuel dock. This increases the time needed to refuel, however, and there are times when the attendant gets a bit cranky when we insist on using it, especially at a busy fuel dock. Usually we can reach a compromise by using the filter for a minute or two, then doing a quick check of the filters to see whether we are getting water or other contaminants. Only once has an attendant flatly refused to allow us to use it.

Even with the best of precautions, however, we still get water in the fuel tanks. I have replaced the o-ring on the fuel cap, thinking this might be the source, but that didn't eliminate the problem. I suspect it comes from condensation forming inside the metals tanks as the ambient temperature varies. If not removed or treated, the water will allow algae to grow, which in turn will clog the filters. To combat this, I built a small fuel polishing system and routinely clean the fuel and tanks. While not my favorite chore, it isn't difficult and I do this annually, or any time I see any signs of sediment build-up in the primary filter.

As we travel to more remote areas, fuel docks become rare and “jerry canning” is the usual method of obtaining fuel. The photo shows a fuel station in the Darien Jungle, up a Panamanian river. Another notable instance was in Ushuaia at the southern tip of Argentina, where fuel was rolled down to the dock in rusty 55 gallon drums. We were rafted up with four other boats between us and the dock. The process was to carry empty eight gallon fuel cans across the other four boats, siphon fuel out of the rusty drums, lug the fuel cans back one at a time to Cups, and decant them. After repeating the process for a total of 26 trips, I was definitely ready for a beer.

When I decant diesel from fuel cans, especially when it is as suspect as that fuel in Ushuaia or Panama, I usually use the fuel polishing system to transfer the fuel. It is a bit slower than the Baja filter, but eliminates any chance of spilling fuel, and is probably more effective in removing contaminants and water. In addition, the Baja filter must be cleaned after each use, which takes about 15 minutes and is messy, while the fuel polishing system requires no cleaning after use.

The polishing system is quite straightforward as shown in Figure 1. The intake is via a wand that is long enough to reach to the lowest point of the fuel tank. I used stainless tubing for the wand, but PVC or aluminum tubing would work just as well.

This is connected to a Racor diesel filter. Any quality automotive or truck diesel filter will work, but I like the Racor Turbine Series with a clear see-thru bowl. I had a spare Racor onboard, but if I didn't already have it, I would expect to pay $180 to $200 online for a Racor 500 series filter assembly and about $8 to $10 for each filter.

The outlet of the filter is connected to an electric fuel pump. I found this at an automotive parts store by asking for a small universal diesel fuel pump. The least expensive one I found was $38.00, and this included a mounting bracket and hose fittings. The fuel pump is connected via a switch to 12 volts. I use a standard 12 volt plug for the connection.

I mounted everything on a piece of plywood to make it portable. That way, I can use it for either of the fuel tanks below, take it up on deck to decant fuel from the fuel cans, or even loan it out to other cruising friends with fuel problems. I use a bolt inserted into the discharge hose and clamp, and clamp a short hose with a similar plug to cap the intake wand. This seals the system when not in use.

To polish the fuel, I try to plan ahead and wait until the fuel levels in the tanks are less than half full. I remove the inspection hatch from both tanks, insert the wand into the one, the discharge hose into the other and start the pump. To begin with, I position the wand so that it is an inch or two higher than the lowest spot in the tank. I monitor the fuel rate and water level in the filter bowl. The water can be drained from the bowl periodically as necessary, and when the fuel flow begins to slow down, I change the filter. When the tank has only an inch or two of liquid left, I get a flashlight out and take a look at what is left. If it looks relatively clean, I continue pumping the tank as dry as possible, then get a bucket and sponge out whatever is remaining. If it is mucky, or there is a lot of debris or water remaining in that last inch or two, rather than consuming two or three more filters, I sponge out all the remaining liquid, muck and sediment. Next, I wipe the entire inside of the tank with rags or paper towels. Hopefully, one tank will hold all the fuel. If not, I use fuel cans to hold the excess.

Next, I repeat the entire process on the second tank, pumping it back into the first tank. Again, I sponge out whatever remains in the bottom of the tank and wipe the inside of the tank. Lastly, I dispose of the bucket of muck in a responsible manner.

The entire cost of the project was about $150 (~$350 if I didn't already have the filter), and it rarely uses more than one $10 filter to polish both tanks. This is less than what it cost to have our fuel polished the one time by a service. In addition, I use it frequently for decanting diesel from my fuel cans.

The Blue View - Another Way to Climb the Mast

 

It is frequently necessary to climb up to the top of the mast. At least twice a year and before any major passage, I climb up and check all the fittings and rigging. Occasionally, there are problems with some of the myriad of gear mounted on the mast: anchor light, mast mounted navigation lights, wind speed/direction transducer, radar, sail track, radio antennas, sail furler heads or blocks that necessitate going up the mast. A couple of times, it was necessary to climb the mast while at sea to correct a problem. All told, I probably average a trip up the mast at least once a month.

There are two usual methods of climbing the mast. We've seen a number of young riggers and the occasional cruiser that are very adept at climbing the rigging. They sit in a harness that is attached to a halyard and hoist themselves up the rigging, while another person keeps tension in the halyard. Tom, on the famous sailboat, Sunstone, is amazing at this method, but while I might have been able to manage it when I was 30, it's not even a consideration now. The other method is to sit in a harness or bosun's chair and have someone else use a winch to hoist the crew member up. This method is easy for the one being hoisted, but is a lot of work for the one working the winch.

I am the designated mast climber on Nine of Cups, if for no other reason than Marcie doesn't like heights. This means, of course, that since there are only two of us aboard, Marcie gets stuck with the winch cranking duty. Hauling me up the mast gets old in a hurry, and when the project involves more than one trip up the mast, it can be downright tedious.

Another method of climbing the mast that works for us and eliminates most of the drudgery is a technique mountain climbers and arborists use for climbing and descending a vertical rope using a friction knot. This is a knot made with a short length of line that forms a loop around another tensioned line. When no weight or tension is applied to the friction knot, it will slide freely up or down. When you apply weight or downward tension to it, it locks in place and will not slide. There are several similar knots that are commonly used to ascend a rope. One of these, the Klemheist or French Prusik knot, is the one I prefer as it is unlikely to jam, is simple to tie and is easy to use when ascending or descending the halyard.

To make the Klemheist knot, I start with two 5' lengths of 1/4” (6mm) quality double braid line formed into loops using a Double Fisherman's knot. I keep these loops permanently made up and stowed in my “mast climbing kit”. When it is time to climb the mast, the loops are attached to the halyard, one above the other, using a Klemheist knot.

Attached to the knots are foot slings that Marcie made for me using heavy webbing. Each foot sling is a length of webbing with a small loop sewn in one end and a large loop sewn in the other. The small loop is about 3” in diameter while the large loop is big enough for me to slide my foot into. Each loop is double stitched across the top and the bottom, with two extra diagonal lines of stitching for good measure. Since one friction knot will always be higher than the other, the two slings were made to slightly different lengths so the foot loops are at the same height. My preference is to have the upper friction knot at about mid-chest height when I am standing in the foot loop. The foot sling attached to the lower friction knot is enough shorter that my feet are even when I am standing in both loops. I attach each foot sling to its friction knot by looping the foot loop through the small loop.

Usually when I go up the mast, it is to work on something. I use a bosun's chair to provide a platform to sit on that frees up both hands and has pockets to carry the tools, lubricants and whatever parts that I will need. It also provides a little added safety.

The technique I use to climb the rope is straightforward. I attach the main halyard to the foot of the mast and tighten it as much as possible - the tighter the better. There is one big difference between ascending a rope attached to a mountain and climbing the mast. Rarely does the mountain yaw, roll and/or pitch. If the halyard is not attached at the bottom, any boat motion will be magnified by the movement of the mast, causing the halyard (with me attached) to start swinging in large arcs. This might almost be fun except for the part where I swing back from a 20 foot arc and smack into the mast or a shroud.

Next I attach the loops to the tensioned halyard using the Klemheist knot, and then the foot slings to the knots. I attach the topping lift to the bosun's chair with a bowline, strap myself into the chair and clip my harness to the bosun's chair.

Marcie and I have done this enough times that we have the system pretty organized. I sit in the bosun's chair and slide both friction knots up the halyard as high as I can reach. Then I stand in both foot slings. As soon as the topping lift goes slack, Marcie tugs on it to take up the slack. Then I sit back in the bosun's chair, slide the knots up the halyard again and the process is repeated. Watching from below, it looks like I am climbing a ladder, and after a little practice, it is just about as fast. Once I reach the desired height, be it the masthead or elsewhere, I clip my harness to a secure fitting on the mast as a safeguard.

When it is time to come back down, usually I remove the knots and Marcie lowers me down in the bosun's chair. It is not all that difficult to descend with the knots, however. I put my weight on the sling attached to the upper knot. Once the tension is removed from the lower knot, I loosen it by pushing up on it and then slide it down. Then I put my weight on the lower sling and slide the upper knot downward.

However you go up the mast, I have a couple of other suggestions:

I take a small line with me that is long enough to reach the deck from the masthead. One end is tied to the bosun's chair and the other is attached to a small weight. When I realize I need another tool or part, I lower the weighted end of the line to Marcie who either attaches the part or tool directly to the line or puts it in our canvas bucket and ties the bucket to the line. Then I hoist it back up. This is much easier and quicker than descending and ascending the mast.

We use small hand-held radios to communicate. That way, when I am trying to explain which tool it is that I forgot and which little locker it is located in, I can do it over the radio rather than having a shouted conversation from the masthead for the entire anchorage to enjoy.

I make sure no one is underneath me while I'm working. I rarely complete a job on the mast without dropping something. It is bad enough listening to the inevitable two bounces on deck that precede the splash as the part or tool goes into the drink – I hate to think what a screwdriver or box wrench would do to someone after falling from that height.

Note: This is a condensed form of an article that was published in Ocean Navigator Magazine in the September 2012 issue. The full article also described the use of mechanical ascenders as an alternative to a friction knot. For a copy of the full article in .pdf form, let us know and we will send it along to you.

The Blue View - Securing the Floorboards

 

I was perusing a cruisers' forum a couple of days ago, and I came across a thread that was discussing methods of securing the floorboards on a sailboat. In each area of the boat, like the salon, galley, and cabins, there are removable floor sections that allow access to the area below the sole. This is technically the bilge area, but in many sailboats, it is also used for fuel and water storage tanks, as well as storage. On Nine of Cups, these areas are home to our tanks as well as several pumps. It is also used to store canned goods, small batteries, gallon jugs of engine oil and coolant, and several odd shaped tools and spares. One section is devoted entirely to hoses and tubing.

Normally, the floorboards stay in place quite well on their own. It takes a major knockdown, or worse, a rollover or pitch-pole to dislodge them. If that should happen and the floorboards were not secured, there would be flying hunks of wood, cans, pickle jars, and large tools everywhere. If we weren't badly injured from the rollover, getting battered by a spare water pump and half a dozen cans of beans would probably do the trick. Then, if and when the boat righted itself again, the crew and all the other flying cannonballs would be flung back towards the now gaping holes in the floor. Not a pretty picture.

The thread was quite long, and most of the entries were rather flippant – something like “Try keeping your boat upright...that's always worked for me. Haw – haw”. I guess if the writer is a coastal cruiser, the possibility of a major knockdown or rollover is pretty remote. But I think to most serious offshore sailors, especially those that venture into the high latitudes, these events are real possibilities. Hence, the question of how to secure the floorboards was perfectly valid in my opinion.

When we bought Nine of Cups, I dreamed of sailing to some of these remote parts of the globe, and I felt it was important to make Cups as safe as possible. This included finding a method of securing the floorboards. I had several criteria in mind. We access the storage areas under the sole frequently – sometimes several times a day. In addition, some emergencies require immediate access to the bilge. If we suddenly start taking on water and need to close a thru-hull, for example, it is important to be able to get to it quickly. Thus, the method of securing the floorboards should be quick and easy to engage and disengage. A second criteria was that it not be too expensive. We have 16 floorboards, so the costs add up quickly. It should also be fairly quick and easy to install. If each of the 16 floorboards takes several hours to install, the project would take a long time to complete. Finally, the system should look good. The interior workmanship on Cups is quite beautiful, and despite my innate clumsiness and irritating propensity to add dings and divots to the woodwork, I try not to intentionally damage it.

I found several possible solutions, but most did not meet all my criteria. There are some elegant handles that sit flush, and twist to lock the floorboards in place. These are expensive, require a fair amount of time to install, and since the floorboards already have lift rings that wouldn't match the new hardware, it wouldn't look all that great. Other than that, they were perfect.

PYI has some nifty little floor anchors made for the purpose. They lock with half a turn using a screwdriver and they look good. The only problem is that I would need 2 to 4 for each floorboard, and at a price of about $15 each, the total cost for the quantity I needed plus the installation tools would have been about $800. That was quite a bit more than I was hoping to spend.

I was still pondering the problem when a friend on another boat offered a solution he had seen using bungee cord. It sounded like a gimcrack solution, but he thought it was used by the Swedish manufacturer Hallberg-Rassey on its production boats. I was never able to verify this or to see exactly how they implemented their version, but the idea turned into a workable solution.

I started with a short length of 3/8” (10mm) bungee cord with a loop on both ends. Initially I secured the loops with crimps, but later found that just tying a bowline in each end worked just as well. One end was permanently attached to the bottom of the floorboard with a strong eye strap. A small cleat was attached to the side of the stringer that supports the floorboard. I made the length of the bungee just long enough to loosely reach between the eye strap and the cleat. I attached two bungee cords, to each end of a floorboard.

Before proceeding any further, I wanted to test the strength of the system. I found a couple of 6”x 10” timbers, placed them on the ground spaced slightly further apart than the length of the floorboard, and held them in place with some rocks. I screwed four cleats into the timbers, then attached the floorboard to the timbers by looping the ends of the bungee over the cleats. Then I stood on the floorboard. The bungee cords stretched a a few inches, but held fine. Then I piled about 20 pounds of miscellaneous objects onto the floorboard and stood on it again. It held the combined weight of 200 pounds without a problem.

Once I was convinced the system was strong enough, I wanted to see how difficult it was to attach the bungee cords to the cleats under the sole once the floorboard was in place. I found that if I lifted the floorboard enough to get my hand underneath the end, it was not difficult to stretch the bungee cord and attach the loop to the cleat. With a little practice, it takes only a second or two to attach or detach each bungee cord.

For smaller floorboards that have nothing heavy stored beneath, I attached two bungee cords, one on each end. For larger floorboards, or those with heavy items stored below, I attached four bungee cords, two at each end. I melted the ends of each bungee cord to keep them from unraveling, then covered the ends with shrink tubing. When making a loop using a bowline, I found it held well as long as I applied enough tension to ensure the know was quite tight.

Part of our pre-departure routine when we set out on a long passage is to secure all the floorboards. It only takes a few minutes to attach all 16 floorboards. We check them again if a gale or storm is headed our way. We have suffered only one knockdown in all our passages, and none of the floorboards budged. While this was not a really good test of the system, like our liferaft, ditchbag and EPIRB, we dearly hope that we never have the opportunity to see how well it really works.