The Blue View - Replacing a Seacock

Nine of Cups has 16 thru-hulls – holes in her bottom. A couple of these are for depth and speed transducers, but 14 are used to allow water into or out of the boat. For example, one is used as an engine cooling water intake, another is connected to the galley sink drain, another serves as the water intake for our desalinator, and so on. Since it could be a real disaster if a hose connected to one of these thru-hulls broke or came loose, each of the 14 thru-hulls is fitted with a shut-off valve - or seacock in sailor's parlance. As part of our annual haul-out chores, we check, lube and exercise each seacock, and examine all the hoses and hose clamps.

This process is more easily done with two people. In our case, Marcie is outside the boat equipped with a q-tip taped to the end of a screwdriver and a pot of either vaseline jelly or a silicone based lubricant, while I am on the inside of the boat. We start with the most forward thru-hull on the starboard side, and I work the seacock half a dozen times or so to limber it up, then close it and tap the hull a few times. That's Marcie's cue to grease the ball valve with a dab of lubricant, after which she taps on the hull. We repeat this three times for each seacock, then move on to the next seacock. While she is greasing, I examine each seacock and thru-hull for corrosion, make sure the bonding wire is still attached and intact, then check each hose for signs of deterioration and each hose clamp to make sure none have broken or begun rusting.

The whole operation takes about a half an hour or so, and is well worth doing. There are always a few seacocks that are quite stiff, but which are soon operating smoothly again after working and lubing them. Invariably, I discover a few hose clamps or a hose that looks questionable, and it goes on the list for replacement before we splash again. And every few years, I find a seacock that has totally frozen up and which will also need replacement before going back in the water.

This time, the seacock for the port cockpit drain was seized. It has been with Cups since she was built, and after 30 years, it finally seized up. This particular one is located behind and below the engine, right next to the large engine exhaust hose – probably the most difficult-to-access seacock on the boat.

The usual steps involved in removing a seacock are to remove the hose clamps and hose from the tailpiece, then, using the biggest pipe wrench that will fit into the space, unscrew the seacock from the thru-hull. These parts are made of heavy bronze, and were sealed with a copious amount of bedding compound 30 years ago, making them somewhat stubborn. I got my biggest pipe wrench out, wriggled my way down to the seacock, then spent the next hour pushing, pulling, grunting, sweating and cursing trying to get the damn thing to budge. After several new cuts and abrasions, a few bruised knuckles and absolutely no movement of the seacock, I went to find Raymond, the boatyard mechanic.

Raymond is a big, strong guy, and his helper is even younger and stronger. I was sure that between the two of them, the seacock would give it up, but after half an hour of concerted effort on their part, it still wouldn't move. We had a brief conference and decided that the only way to get it out would be to grind off the bottom of the thru-hull, and push it up and out of the hull. I was quite apprehensive – it would take some finesse and care to accomplish this without damaging the hull – but Raymond assured me he could do it. Sure enough, after another twenty minutes or so, the thru-hull and attached seacock were free with no collateral damage at all.

Installing the new parts was much easier. The new thru-hull was pushed into the hole from beneath, and a backing plate was installed and the nut screwed into place on the inside of the hull. I did a dry fit first to make sure everything fit, then took it all apart, applied bedding compound to the hole, under the backing plate and onto the threads, then reassembled everything. I tightened the nut moderately tight, making sure bedding compound was oozing out from under the backing plate and around the end of the thru-hull, then let it sit overnight. The next day, I tightened the nut as much as possible. This ensures that not all the bedding compound gets squished out from the mating surfaces.

Next, I applied bedding compound to the threads on the tailpiece and screwed it into the seacock. Then the sea cock was screwed onto the thru-hull, again, after a light application of bedding compound to the threads. It was tightened down, making sure it was oriented so that the handle could be operated. Finally, a new hose and two new hose clamps were fitted into place.

All done, and just in time for a beer while I admired the finished job. All that's left is to check it when we splash to make sure there are no leaks. With any luck, it will last another 30 years, which is just about how long I want to wait before I have to repeat the job.

The Blue View - Replacing the Shaft Seal

As part of the process of replacing the cutlass bearing, the old shaft seal had to be removed. I installed a 'dripless' shaft seal about 14 years ago, and while I've serviced it regularly over the years, I thought it might be a good time to replace it as well.

If you're not a yachtie or a boater, you may be asking “What the heck is a shaft seal and why do I care anyway”. Or, more likely, you've tuned out by now and decided to wait till Marcie's next blog tomorrow. If you're still with me, however, I'll talk about installing a new shaft seal.

The shaft seal, as its name implies, forms a seal around the propeller shaft as it exits the bottom of the boat through the stern tube. It prevents water gushing into the boat without causing any wear on the shaft while it rotates. Traditionally, this was accomplished by something called a stuffing box, which consisted of a threaded sleeve attached to the stern tube and a large nut. The sleeve was filled with wraps of a packing material – typically woven flax impregnated with wax, grease or lubricants, then the nut was tightened down until the flax was compressed against the shaft, forming a seal.

To keep the flax from drying out or overheating, it needed to be lubricated with seawater. The packing nut would be tightened or loosened from time to time to ensure the amount of water the stuffing box was leaking was optimal – on a sailboat this was about 10-15 drops per minute. Over time, the flax would harden and wouldn't seal effectively, so it had to be dug out and replaced every few years. Stuffing boxes are still quite common, but the packing material is now synthetic, rather than flax, and require less maintenance.

Nine of Cups originally had stuffing boxes on both the prop shaft and the rudder. Shortly after we bought her, I replaced the stuffing box with a new 'dripless' shaft seal. There were a few varieties available, and I chose the P.S.S. Shaft Seal made by PYI, Inc. It consists of a stainless steel rotor that attaches to the shaft and a carbon graphite flange that attaches to the stern tube with a bellow.

The stainless rotor is held in place with two set screws. I removed these, lubricated the shaft with some dishwashing soap, then slid the rotor off the shaft. The bellow is secured to the stern tube with two hose clamps. I removed these, worked the bellow free of the stern tube and slid it off the shaft as well. Note that we are on the hard... the stern tube will admit an amazing amount of water once the rotor is allowed to slide away from the flange if the boat is in the water.

Installing the new shaft seal is straightforward, and complete instructions are provided by the manufacturer. Slide the new bellow-flange assembly in place over the stern tube and secure it with two hose clamps. Lubricate the shaft with dishwashing soap and carefully slide the new rotor into place. The rotor has two o-rings that seal it against the shaft, and some care should be taken to avoid damaging them as it is slid over the end of the shaft. Position the rotor so that it just touches the flange, slide it another inch or so, compressing the bellow, then tighten the set screws.

A few years ago, while we were sailing along the south coast of Australia, the rotor slid back along the shaft and we began taking on water. There was an adrenaline-filled hour or so while we figured out the problem and corrected it. A friend, John on Active Transport, had the same problem, and he prevented the possibility of a re-occurrence by mounting a shaft anode on the prop shaft. That seemed like a good idea, so we did the same.

The shaft seal is lubricated and cooled by seawater. To make sure there is no airlock and that water is getting to the bearing, it is important to 'burp' the seal once the boat is back in the water. I do this by compressing the bellow, making sure water flows out.

So there you go … new shaft seal installed. Time to move on to the next project.

The Blue View - Working in d' Trini Style

One of the tasks we wanted to accomplish here was to address some core de-lamination problems in the bulwarks of Nine of Cups. This involved cutting away sections of the fiberglass sheer stripe, removing the old core, replacing it with new marine plywood, embedding everything in epoxy, and re-attaching the fiberglass outer layer. Once this was all done, a layer or two of glass cloth would be applied, then the entire area would be faired and repainted. I did the same to several sections of the deck where our old teak decks had caused de-lamination of the deck core, and while the process took longer than I expected, the end result was a deck that was stronger than new. Since we were on a tight timetable, I thought I'd enlist the help of the Trini guy who had done such a good job painting our hull. To avoid any embarrassment, l'll call him Dewie.

Working with Dewie is both endearing and annoying. To begin with, he repeats everything at least three times, followed by "You unda stand me captn? You hear what ahm sayin?". These last two sentences will be repeated until I verbally acknowledge that I have, indeed, heard and understood him. Now in his defense, he is used to working with us old cruisers. Many of us are hard of hearing and aren't used to the Trini dialect, (nor do they always understand our accents and idioms for that matter) so if something important is being communicated, it is best to make sure everything is being understood. Dewie carries this to the extreme, however. "We work togetta, eh captn... it's easier to clap wit two hands than one. You unda stand me captn? You hear what l'm sayin?" Pause. "You unda stand me captn? You hear what l'm sayin?" . This will be repeated until I respond enthusiastically. If my response is less than enthusiastic, he will inform me that "It a lot easier to work wit someone who enjoy his work and not be in a foul mood all d' time".

Dewie also likes to share his Trini knowledge with me. Some of his tips and "tricks" are well worth knowing. I've learned a lot from the various tradesmen I've encountered around the world, and I try to be open minded and receptive to new ideas. Dewie must think I'm the village idiot, however, and finds it necessary to explain how he does the simplest tasks. When we were setting up a scaffolding to work on the sheer stripe, we needed to round up some additional planks. Dewie informed me that "the captn on dat catamaran is gone for a long time - we can use his planks. Let me show you d' trick for carrying dem. You pick up one end and I pick up d' otter end and we carry it just so. You see my trick? You unda stand me captn? You hear what l'm sayin?" Now if I were to foolishly respond "gee whiz - that is clever...I thought we'd put the planks between our legs and hop over to Cups", all I'd hear for the next hour would be his muttering "It sure is hard working wit someone who always be in d' foul mood."

Dewie was used to working with epoxy, but I knew he had never replaced the core of a deck before. It was important to him that he didn't appear to lack knowledge on the subject, however. "I done dis work plenty of times, captn, but everybody does it diff'rent. How do you like ta do it?". So I explained 'how I like ta do it'. As we were cutting the plywood to fit into the first section of the sheer stripe, I was numbering each piece of wood to make it easier to figure out which piece of ply went where. Dewie insisted this wasn't necessary - "I can figure dis out jus fine when we gluing dem in", so I stopped numbering them. When it was time to place each piece of ply, we had a few miscues, and while we eventually got everything in its place, it took longer than necessary. The next day, Dewie told me he had a little trick to show me. "We should number each piece of timber like so. Dis is how we do it in Trinidad. Dat way, it's easy to figure it out when it time to glue the timbers in. You unda stand mah trick captn? ..." I wish I had thought of that.

Early on it the process, when we were cutting and grinding the old fiberglass, Dewie came attired in a full Tyvec suit and a respirator. I commented on how I was happy to see he took his health seriously. He said "Yah captn, dat fiberglass is nasty stuff. I try not to bree'd it or any of dem bad chemicals. Mey'be I live to be as old as you, skippah!". I think he was smiling inside his respirator.

Working with Dewie really has been fun and a positive experience. He works hard, always shows up when he says he will, and his work is good, which is more than I can say about most of the guys I've worked with in dozens of other places. His paint work was first rate and we were quite surprised to find it all done on our return to Trini.

Now, if only I can keep from being in d' foul mood all d' day...