The Blue View - Why we like our daytank

 

Several years ago we fitted Nine of Cups with a daytank, which is a small fuel tank that sits higher than the engine. Fuel is pumped from one of the main fuel tanks into the daytank and then gravity fed to the engine.

There are a number of reasons why we like our daytank. The primary reason is that it greatly reduces the possibility of an air bubble making its way to the injector pump, causing the engine to sputter and die. For all the years we owned Cups prior to our daytank, it seemed we were always having problems with air in the fuel lines. If the fuel tanks were less than half full and we were sailing on a heel, or the seas were rough and the fuel sloshed around in the tanks as the boat rolled, air would often make its way into the pickup tube inside the tank. The air would stay in the pickup tube until the next time we started the engine, then make its way to the injector pump where it would create an airlock. The injector pump would then be starved of fuel and the engine would die. Sometimes, tiny air bubbles would get sucked into the fuel line due to a small air leak, and over some period of time, ranging from a couple of hours to maybe 12 hours of motoring, the tiny bubbles would combine into larger bubbles until they became big enough to create an airlock. I changed hoses, valves, filter assemblies, gaskets and hose clamps over the years trying to get rid of air leaks. Sometimes the problem would go away for a few months, but it always eventually returned. It was very frustrating. If the engine died when we had plenty of sea room, it was an easy matter to bleed the fuel system, ridding it of any air. If the engine died when we really needed it, things could get a little tense.

The daytank all but eliminates this problem. It is the highest point in the fuel system, so any air bubbles that do get introduced into the fuel line make their way upwards and into the daytank where they dissipate rather than create an airlock.

The next reason we like our daytank is that it gives us some warning if the main fuel tank is running out, the fuel pump has failed or the filters are clogged. Our daytank has a low fuel alarm on it. If the fuel level drops below a certain point, a warning light comes on in the cockpit and the alarm sounds below. When the alarm goes off, there is enough fuel left in the daytank to continue motoring for about ten minutes, so we have a little time to either resolve the problem or find a place to safely stop the engine. Without the daytank, often the first indication of a problem was when the engine died.

A third reason is that it provides a small backup tank in the event the main tanks become contaminated. A friend of ours once filled both his tanks with fuel that was so dirty, it was clogging his filters after every hour of motoring. With a daytank, we could siphon fuel from the main tank, through our Baja filter and into a fuel can. Then we could use our electric fuel pump to transfer the fuel through the primary filter and into the daytank. Not perfect, but it would buy some time until we could polish the fuel and clean the tanks.

There are a couple of other reasons I can think of as well: Adding a fuel supply for a diesel fired heater or stove is trivial - simply add another outlet on the daytank; bleeding the fuel system is easier – the gravity forced flow of fuel eliminates the necessity of having to manually operate the engine lift pump.

There are a couple of reasons why you might not want a daytank. If your fuel system has always worked flawlessly, a daytank adds complexity to the system. And some engine rooms simply don't have room to add a daytank, although there is usually some place it could be fitted. Our friend, Noel on Sadko, put his daytank in the lazarette.

I made our first temporary daytank to get us into Puerto Montt, Chile. It was constructed out of an old 10-liter water container and some fittings we had aboard (the Importance of Junk!) We were heading into some treacherous waters and needed to be able to rely on our engine long enough to get us to port, which it did. As you can see from the photo, it was a real work of art. Nonetheless, while there, I made a more permanent, temporary daytank out of epoxy and plywood. I hoped it would last until we got to New Zealand. It is now more than five years old and I have just now replaced it with its permanent upgrade – a shiny new aluminum (or aluminium if you're a Brit or from downunder) daytank that will last a good long time.

Next, I'll talk about how to go about adding a daytank...

Daytank Series Pt. 2

Daytank Series Pt. 3

The Blue View - Repairing the Rub Rail

 

When we hauled out for our annual bottom maintenance here in Mandurah, I misjudged our approach a skosh, and dinged up the end of the starboard rub rail. Getting into and out of concrete pens has always been an issue for me.

As is usually the case when we haul out, I had to remove the forestay and furler in order to fit into the Travelift, and I secured them to the outside of the lifelines on the port side. This made them vulnerable to being damaged if I got too close to the port side of the pen, so as I approached, I stayed as close to the starboard side of the pen as I dared – which turned out to be a little too close. Oh well, this wasn't the first time and undoubtedly won't be the last time the brightwork on Nine of Cups got dinged. I've bumped into haul out facilities in lots of different places as a matter of fact – Venezuela, Ecuador, Uruguay, New Zealand, and now in Western Australia.

I had the opportunity to make the repair one sunny day while Marcie was back in the U.S. I couldn't find teak in the size I needed, but I did find some jarrah. This is the same local wood I used to make the chocks for our Bruce anchor, and it is quite a nice wood for exterior use. Once it weathers, the color is also quite close to the color of the teak of the rub rail, so it ought to blend in well.

I removed the damaged section and carefully cut the jarrah to fit. I'm not the greatest finish carpenter, especially when my tools are limited to a jigsaw and a handsaw, but the fit wasn't too bad - at least when viewed from 20 feet or so.

I had planned to use epoxy and screws to secure the new piece in place. As I was working on it, two new friends, Ross and Cliff happened by, and after we finished discussing the general state of world affairs, the weather, and other important topics, the conversation turned to my project. Ross felt it might be a mistake to use epoxy to join the two types of wood together. Jarrah, as it turns out, swells considerably when it gets wet – much more than teak. If I epoxied the jarrah to the teak, the swelling might cause the joint or the teak to crack. After a bit more discussion, our consensus was that I should bond the two woods with screws and a more flexible adhesive like Sikaflex. Local knowledge is a good thing.

The Blue View - Aim for Something Cheap

It's boat insurance renewal time again. Each year at this time, we provide the insurance company with our sailing and cruising plans for the upcoming 12 months, and they tell us how much we will need to pay to keep Nine of Cups insured. The last two years have been spent coastal cruising in Australia, and our insurance has been relatively cheap. The word 'relative' is an important adjective in the last sentence. Boat insurance is always very expensive – much more than homeowners or auto insurance. This coming year, since we will be crossing an ocean, the rates will go up significantly – roughly the same as the down payment on our first house, and then only if we have a rigging inspection. It's quite painful.  

In 2003, we were in Puerto la Cruz, Venezuela when it was time to renew our insurance. At the time, we thought we would be going to some of the islands in the southern Caribbean, then to Cartagena, Colombia, through the Panama Canal and on across the Pacific. (Ha – did those plans ever change!). Based on our cruising plans, the insurance company gave us a quote for the year , and “by the way, you can't stop in Colombia”. Hmmm – does that mean they wouldn't cover the boat while it was in Colombian waters if we choose to go to Cartagena? Surely there was a way to get coverage for going to Cartagena – maybe a special rider? After a few emails back and forth, it became quite clear that if we went to Colombia, not only would they not cover us, but our insurance would be canceled.

We decided we WERE going to Cartagena and if that was the attitude our insurance company was taking, we would let our policy lapse. We'd show them! We would spend the money that was budgeted for insurance on bombproof ground tackle and in making sure Cups was secure and seaworthy.

As it turned out, the very day our insurance ran out was the day we were leaving Puerto la Cruz. Our marina was a few miles up a series of canals that wound through an area where the very rich Venezuelans kept their yachts berthed. There was a 15-20 knot breeze, and just as we came into a short stretch that put the wind on our beam, the engine sputtered and died.

Since we couldn't stop the boat and would soon lose steerage, we had maybe a minute before we either hit or drifted into one of the mega-yachts that were med-moored all around us. Two thoughts came to mind. One was that perhaps I was a bit hasty in deciding to let our insurance lapse. The second thought was something I recalled reading in one of Tom Cunliffe's books. In a situation like this - “Aim for something cheap”.

I saw a gap between two of the yachts that might be just wide enough for Cups. Thinking it would be preferable to hit the jetty than put a major gash in someone's topsides, I aimed for it while Marcie grabbed a fender to try and fend us off from the yachts on either side. As it turned out, the two yachts had spring lines crisscrossed across the opening. As Cups ran into them, they slowed us down, and we only nudged up against the dock. No damage except to our pride.

The crew was on one of the yachts and kindly allowed us to raft up until we got the engine problem sorted out. It turned out to be an air bubble in the fuel line – a problem that has been an issue with Cups since the day we bought her. That's a topic of another blog sometime. It only took a few minutes to bleed the fuel lines and get the engine running again, and we were soon on our way.

We went several years without insurance on the boat. Most marinas and boatyards in New Zealand and Australia require insurance, however, so we have reinstated our insurance (with another company BTW), and intend to keep the policy in force. That said, during all the years since Venezuela, we have had numerous close calls, and several boats have bumped or run into us, but nothing that would have resulted in an insurance claim had we been insured. And except for that one incident in Venezuela, knock on wood and thanking Neptune for all the wonderful lessons in humility and seamanship he has provided us, we have also never had to decide which was the cheapest boat to aim for.