A Little Boat Work in St. Augustine

Though you think we've been doing nothing but playing, we have, indeed, managed to get a few things accomplished. After all, we live on a boat and we're in an exotic place and … well, you know how that goes; we've said it often enough. The list wasn't as long as it has been in the past … 26 to-do's of which 10 were on the A list and they've either been completed or are close to completion. David was able to have new hydraulic hoses fabricated shortly after we arrived and installed them immediately, so the engine … sans transmission oil leaks ... is ready to go. He also replaced the mast boot whipping, re-tensioned the aft port lifelines, replaced the seal on the forward head pump, re-caulked a couple of hatches and the stern portlights and replaced the lashing on the starboard goal posts (support posts for the wind gen). Whew!

I had masked all the saloon and aft cabin portlights for sanding and revarnishing while on passage, and, after replenishing our varnish supply at a local marine shop on one of our walking excursions about town, we've been diligently varnishing each morning in hopes of getting at least six fresh coats of varnish on the portlights before we depart. All the window coverings have been washed and are ready to be rehung whenever we finish the varnishing.

One problem we always encounter is that our boat projects tend to expand. For example, when prepping the stern portlights, I noticed the caulking needed to be redone. It went on David's list. And then, I decided the forward head hatch was looking a bit shabby, too, so I figured sanding it and slapping on some varnish would only take a a few minutes longer than doing just the portlights. Then David suggested that perhaps the railings on the companionway ladder could use some work along with the teak handhold in the galley.

He was right and we began sanding those. Unfortunately, sanding wasn't enough, but we were committed once we started. They required scraping and sanding which became a whole day affair to complete, not to mention the clean-up involved. Whoosh … there went the whole day.

We sometimes meet sailors who arrive in port and have nothing on their to-do lists. In fact, they don't have to-do lists at all and wonder why we have to dedicate so much time to maintaining Nine of Cups. True, we have more teak and stainless than a lot of boats and perhaps, because she's an older girl, like us, she needs more attention. Or, perhaps it's because the Captain is really not happy unless he's puttering around on his boat doing stuff. We're waiting for weather to begin our passage north and might as well use the time for something productive. Whatever … we've come to the conclusion that the Nine of Cups to-do list is eternal. It gets shorter and longer, but it will never go away.

Life Without Refrigeration

 

There are some very big pluses to not having refrigeration aboard. Plus #1 is the amount of power we save, or rather have available for other things like computers, iPads and other electronic stuff.

We know of lots of veteran sailors who have sworn off fridges. Our friends Betty and Luis on Ave del Mar, are fridge-less. Beth Leonard and Evans Starzinger chose to give up refrigeration and felt all the better for it. It takes some planning and some adjustment, but it's really not all that bad.

It's not like we ever used our freezer as a freezer. Ice cubes and ice cream never existed aboard Nine of Cups. In the higher, colder latitudes, who needs ice? In the tropics, we chose to use the freezer as a cold box only, preferring to save the power for other uses. We don't have a generator aboard and starting the engine to keep the fridge cold seemed a waste, not to mention the noise factor.

David tried valiantly to get the fridge going before we left Trinidad. He soldered and brazed, evacuated the system, added dryers and filters, monitored pressures, blew out the system, added refrigerant, evacuated it again, added more refrigerant. You name it, he tried it. In the end, he figures he knows the problem .. .a blocked capillary. There just wasn't enough time to sort it out without delaying our departure. We agreed it wasn't worth the delay.

So … how have we fared? Actually, just fine. Some freshies, like carrots, cabbage, potatoes and even eggs never get refrigerated on Nine of Cups anyway. We miss yogurt for breakfast, but we've adjusted. We've determined an open carton of UHT milk lasts about 3 days unrefrigerated before souring … just long enough for us to use most of it up. We could use non-dairy creamer in a pinch, but hey, we need some luxuries. Margarine melts and cheese separates, but both are still usable, though perhaps a bit less appetizing.

We still have 30+ jars of canned chicken from our Atlantic passage plus canned tuna. The larder is full of canned veggies and fruit. We've not been ambitious enough to fish, but we could if we needed to.

Now that we're in port, refrigeration becomes even less important. Ice is easily accessible and lasts for a couple of days in the cooler. Groceries and freshies are easy to come by and cold beer is right across the street at J. P. Henleys.

So, will we eventually fix the fridge? I imagine “we” will if only to prove to the captain that he can fix it. But it's good to know we can choose to live without it, though I must admit, the biggest hardship … no cold beer once we leave port!

Rotten Eggs and Other Smells

One of the things about boats is they smell. Sometimes it's the garlic and onion you're sauteing, but more likely it's something else or a combination of “something elses”. My sister, Lin, always hugs me rather tenuously when we first arrive home after a long stay on the boat and wrinkles her nose. “Boat smell”, she pronounces. We don't smell it until we've been away from the boat for a few days and then it's very evident. It's a mix of diesel and mildew, the last meal you cooked, head (toilet) smells and the bilge among other things. It's certainly not Chanel #5. Yesterday, there was a strong smell on the boat, emanating from the galley, not the head. We've been taking dips and rinsing off daily, so it wasn't us. Except when it rains, we've had all the hatches and ports wide open, airing Cups out. I finally tracked it down. Two adjoining eggs in our stash had hairline cracks on their bottoms (maybe one cracked the other...misery loves company?) and when I lifted them out of the carton, they exploded most dramatically and aromatically in the sink. Whew! Rotten eggs! It took awhile for that sulfur smell to dissipate, believe me!

Rotten eggs are pretty infrequent unless an unnoticed crack sneaks by as it did recently. Other smells on the boat, however, can be a challenge. The head can definitely be a culprit. It gets cleaned frequently and I use one of those stick-on, gel-type deodorizers in the bowl, but it's just not enough. Every month or so, we pump a bucket of bleach water through the system and let it set for awhile and then pump it out. After awhile, even bleach water isn't enough. Calcification builds up in the hoses and that becomes a whole other issue to be taken care of. Once a year, David pumps a hydrochloric acid/water solution through the system which dissolves the lime and, in combination with our other maintenance, it seems to keep head odors at bay.

The bilge collects everything that finds its way to the bottom of the boat. The smells contain fermenting salt water, mold, mildew, diesel … a lovely bouquet that assaults your senses especially when the boat's been closed up for awhile. We usually dump a bucketful of soapy water down there and let it slosh around for awhile before turning on the bilge pump once we're a ways out to sea.

Diesel smells were strong during our recent passage from Trini to Culebra. With particularly rolly seas, David discovered that the starboard fuel tank was leaking around the inspection plate gasket. Not much diesel escaped, but what did was quite pungent. Typically, boats smell of diesel in the same way cars sometime smell of gasoline and certainly your garage smells of auto fuel. The problem is, you don't usually park your car engine in the middle of your kitchen or living room, so it's not a problem. Our engine is smack dab in the middle of the boat … next to the galley and salon. Stopping the leak was a #1 on the fix list and adequate ventilation is taking care of the rest of the problem.

Mold and mildew can be kept to a minimum, but if you're in the tropics, it's hard to remove them entirely. We have such a mix of clothing for the different climates we encounter, some clothes are always stowed away in lockers. When we haul them out, they smell like “boat”, mostly due to mold and mildew. We try to hang them out on sunny days with a light breeze and wash down the lockers with vinegar and water while the clothes are airing. We left a dehumidifier on 24x7 when we left Cups alone in Trinidad and it was well worth the expense. Thankfully, there was no noticeable mildew or mold when we returned. The closed up boat, however, still smelled rather unpleasant until we opened all the ports and hatches and got some air circulating.

Here's where I'm really sorry there are no sensory “smell chips” so that I can share the delightful smells that can emanate from a boat with you. Believe me, it's something you're probably glad to have missed.