Today was a shakedown on the boat.
Kirk has spent a LOT of time working on it for the past few years. We have had her for 22 years, but she become too predictable in her failure to run consistently so she was docked for a few years and Kirk went to work.
He pulled the fuel tanks and had new ones built to fit. He tore out the entire back deck and a friend and fellow club member built a new one. Kirk spent days caulking the new deck, and sealing it. He installed new carburetors, new fuel lines, new fuel pick ups, new fuel filters, and a million more things that I don’t know about.
And today was the first time I’ve been back on it in far, far too long.
So there was a bit of anxiety for both of us.But it was just a trial. We headed out and across the inner harbour; Kirk headed to the floating Chevron fuel barge as a first “safe place”. That went great, so we headed towards Lynwood as a second “safe spot”. Also a success, so we headed up towards Indian Arm.
Everything felt great, sounded great. We brought her up on plane and she still felt great. We headed up almost to Deep Cove before turning around and encountering the first hiccup.
She started to feel wrong, and the starboard engine began to complain before deciding to quit. But it started again, so that was a plus, in the past that didn’t always happen. She settled down and things seemed ok.
Then the port side engine started to feel off and the vacuum pressure dropped. So we slowed her down and headed towards home.
As we approached the Ironworkers Memorial Bridge there was an odd noise, almost a pop and a whoosh…. Kirk thought it sounded like something hit and slid off the roof.
I said it felt and sounded like it was under my feet.
Oddly, the vacuum pressure stabilized, but it was running rougher than it should.
As we came around the breakwater and slowed for a small open boat coming out, she was running rough and when Kirk pulled the engines into reverse, one quit, then the other. He said he needed to tweak the carburetors. As the little boat passed us we gave each other a wave and then the woman on the boat yelled, what sounded like my name and stood facing backwards waving…I have no idea who that was…but she seemed to know me. I hate that!
We slowly edged through the marina, alternately stalling and starting the port side motor. As we turned into our boat shed, our neighbour waved and hopped onto the finger between the slips and asked if I needed any help, “No, we’re good, a few hiccups but it’s all fine, thanks”.
If you can get the nose of the boat into the shed and get a hold of a part of the frame, the boat doesn’t even need to be running to get it docked.
Once we were tied up and settled in, Kirk pulled the hatches off to see what was what.
A bilge with far too much water in the bottom was the first clue that something went wrong out there.
Kirk found the big problem; the pop and whoosh I’d heard under my feet was a frost plug blowing out, and the water was being sucked in and shot out the side of the riser.
It still has work that needs to be done. But that’s how you find out….you put it to the test.
Regardless, it felt good to be out on the water again. There is a freedom that comes with a boat….an empty bank account too. We got out for about four hours. But any trip, no matter how long or short, that ends up safely back at the dock, is a good trip.
So, more work, more money, and a LOT of cleaning yet to be done.
But it felt like being home to be on her again.
(173/365)
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