Straya Day (when pronounced by non-Australians:  Australia Day) – was a success.  I saw old friends, Luke made new ones, and we all made decisions that we probably wouldn’t have in the light of day.  That’s gotta be a successful get-together, right? It’s been a couple of days, so I’ll put it all back together – but let’s start from the beginning.

Straya Day

Stray Day Party Flag

We’ve had periodic announcements about this party for the last few weeks – pretty much everywhere:  SSB, VHF, and most crew on most boats.  We even heard that a couple of the backpacker boats were going to come in (they did).  There was a small contingent that elected to anchor in Yansaladup and take the dinghy/launcha over to the party from there.  I was glad we only had to weave the dinghy back a couple hundred meters to the mothership.

That day started pretty innocently.  We did what we always do – we went spearfishing.  We brought along the nephew of an old cruising buddy and did some fun diving.  This was almost the least productive diving I’ve ever done – right here along Elephante.    I’ve had a good dive on the same reef-wall, but we just couldn’t find the fish this time around.  That said I brought home 4 dinner-fish, enough for a tub of ceviche.  Then when we got back to the boat we cleaned.  And cleaned.  And cleaned.  We cleaned (and I scrubbed decks) until the party started.  At that point I figured I better get to work on the ceviche, which I did.

We made it to the party fashionably late, and thats not such a bad thing.  I handed off the ceviche to some friends and started making rounds, shaking babies and kissing hands.  The list of people that I met and bumped into is long enough to not include it.  We suspected there were 50 yachts in the harbor, and the guests kept coming.

Straya Day

Everything got a little more interesting after dark.  I found myself in a circle around a small fire eating grilled chicken with friends.  That’s a good place to find oneself – on a sand beach, on a tiny island, with friends, a fire, a party, and some food.  I’d call that a win.  At some point everyone began deciding to head back to their boats.  We headed back, had a quick recap of the night’s adventures, and then retired.

Straya Day

Straya Day

The next morning was a predictable mix of hangovers and minor regrets of the night before.  Luke and I had already decided that we absolutely weren’t doing anything that day.  Except to attend the swap-meet, which was scheduled on Elephante that afternoon.  We took it easy, but were soon sucked into some boat-drama;  likely an event directly a result of the shenanigans on Straya Day.

I’d made a friend on a nearby catamaran the night before.  So when they hailed me on the radio, I was happy to hear from them.  But I didn’t really expect to hear what he told me.  Apparently – they had an unexpected crew member come aboard that morning.  One of the backpacker boats that came to the party apparently forgot a crew member that was snorkeling around the island.  You heard that right, a backpacker boat forgot one of their paying passengers when said passenger went snorkeling.  This backpacker boat simply left, and this backpacker was left in a foreign country, in a near-deserted anchorage, without the boat they were supposed to be sailing to Cartagena on.  Bob (my friend on the cat) needed to know who to call and what to do.  I had very few ideas, but could help by getting in touch with some of my friends – who would then get in touch with their friends, who would then put a call out to this backpacker boat when they saw them at the next island.

The kicker is that we had no idea where the backpacker boat was going next.  And this guy didn’t have his passport.  And this guy had no money.  And poor Bob and his family were (more or less) stuck with this liability until the backpacker boat realized their mistake and decided to come back.  Well – we made the appropriate phone calls, sent the appropriate emails, and hailed the appropriate yachts on the VHF.  Then we listened to our own little soap-opera while watching episodes of Justified.  Despite myself and a couple of the other yachts making some extensive requests into the whereabouts of this backpacker boat – it was Bob who figured it all out.  Not a huge surprise because he was certainly the one with the most motivation.

The backpacker was reunited and we went back to our regularly scheduled programming.

The Swap Meet

These are always interesting, and there is always a couple of things worth picking up.  I only grabbed a bit of neoprene and a carabineer.  But I did manage to sell three cruising guides.  Some people made out like bandits.  One World sold a ton of cheese.  Then we decided to have a beer with One World.  Then it got late and we came back to the boat, watched a movie and crashed.

The next day was spent recovering from our recovery day.  And cooking, cleaning, etc.

Chichime

During the preceding two days I’d received a message from two friends in Chichime.  I made one promise to cook for me, and the other said they wanted the extra solar panels I have onboard.  That was enough to make Chichime a stop on S/V NOMAD’s most recent journey through San Blas.  So today, we clean and then sail.  If you’re wondering why we’re spending so much time cleaning – it’s because the boat was starting to look like a bachelor-pad.  And though that’s not quite false advertising, it is a state of non-organization that will drive you mad.

The plan is to spend the next few days in Chichime, where I can do some boat work and hang with friends.  Luke’s probably going to try his hand at a couple surf-breaks in the area.  Then we’re going to sail to Porvenir to deal with checking in, cruising permits, and zarpes.  At that point, I’ll likely be making a Visa-Run to another country so that I can restart my 6-month Visa here in Panama.

The joy of red tape.

Boats and Reefs

There have been 8 boats that were lost in the last month here.  8.  That’s a big number.  NONE of these skippers were first-time skippers.  All of them have more experience than I do.  And they lost their boats in the same areas I sail in San Blas.  Even here, where we have decent charts and where the water is clear enough to visually navigate – experienced captains are losing boats.  In fact, there’s one within sight of me right now, sitting on a reef.

There are various reasons these boats hit reef, but virtually all of them were preventable human-error.  The kinds we all make, especially under stress, on schedules, without sleep, or after getting the crap kicked out of us by weather.  A crew of a recently lost vessel came by S/V NOMAD the other day and it was devastating.  Just months before they’d sold everything and put it all into the boat.  Now the boat is gone, they had to watch the Kuna celebrating as their boat was stripped.  Now that crew is talking about going back to the States to live with their children.  Devastating.

The yacht on the reef here in Elephante is a really salty guy.  He runs backpackers through San Blas to Cartagena and has been for quite a while.  But he made a mistake and now his yacht is so far up on the reef that tugboats can’t pull it off.  And his engine room is full of saltwater, and his hull has a hole in it.  He was selling food, spices, and other odds and ends at the swap meet.  It’s tough when you see someone giving up all hope.

Occasionally, still, when I’m sailing – I get a little tense.  Usually when something breaks, in high wind, when I’m anchoring or navigating around reefs. It’s hard for crew, or non-sailors to understand this.  But when you’ve met enough salty captains that have lost boats, you begin to realize how each small issue can compound and how any small mistake could be the one that causes a complete loss.  So, if you’re crew, or you know crew, or you’re going to be crew, or you have been crew – understand that your captain has it all on the line, and if he gets a little tense when things start going to shit;  it’s probably not a huge overreaction.

The good news:  so far (knock on wood) NOMAD hasn’t met any reefs.  She’s survived a small number of challenging instances during that time-period, too.  So, I’m learning and while doing so – it appears that I’m getting Rule Number One down:  keep the boat off the reef.  Watching the waves crash against this boat on the reef as I write this is a healthy reminder of that most-important rule.  It’s funny how we drastic the change from everyone having fun on Straya Day, to everyone being reminded about boats on reefs happened at the Swap Meet the following day.  Stark contrasts are definitely part of this lifestyle.

Straya Day

It"s Been Awhile

It’s been a few days since I’ve updated, but we’ve been struggling to get internet access.  Even in areas where the phones are reading 3G;  nothing.  To top that off, we’ve blown through 6 gigs of data in only a couple of days – don’t ask me how that happens when we don’t have data…

Sailing Again

First we left Yansaladup.  We needed to re-provision (rum and beer) and get water.  We also needed some onions, I think.  So we headed toward Nargana, where we could get rum, beer, onions, and water.  But we wanted to dive and wanted fresh fish – so we stopped in at Ednasdup for the night.  There we pulled deep into a protected lagoon, dropped the anchor, and got situated for a dive.  We eventually made it to our dive spot- and after a bit of kicking around I found a honey-hole.  There was a huge variety of tasty fish mingling in the current.  I chased a Black Grouper, shot a Peacock Flounder, shot an Ocean Triggerfish, shot two Spiny Lobster, passed on a few snapper, and then pointed out a couple of Channel Clinging Crabs to Luke.  All in the course of an hour or so.

Two Hours of Spearfishing

We were so loaded up that we stopped by the other yacht in the anchorage and tried to trade them fish/lobster/crab for rum/whiskey.  But they didn’t seem to want to barter.  So we ate like kings.  Then we ate some more, then we slept like babies.

The next morning we picked up anchor and sailed to Nargana – averaging a bit over 7 knots.  We were there by 1PM, and saw Andy on Fisher’s Hornpipe. We dropped anchor right next to him, and shortly we were having an anchor-beer together.  Then we went shopping.  First stop – vegetables.  Second stop – liquor/beer.  We literally bought the island out of rum, and had to give some to Andy who was also short on that magical substance.

Then we went back to the mothership, where another friend had arranged a water-dropoff for us.  That consists of a dugout canoe with a bunch of 55 gallon drums of water pulling up alongside your yacht.  How you get that water from the canoe to your watertanks is completely your problem – we borrowed a jury-rigged bilge pump.  It took a couple of hours but we got’er done.

Next up was a belated birthday-party celebration for Andy.  I offered to cook (we were still brimming with seafood), brought too much rum, and we kicked it all off.  The party was successful enough that neither Fisher’s Hornpipe nor NOMAD left Nargana the following day.

Reprovisioned

At this point Luke and I were back into trying to find a dive-spot and put fish in the fridge.  It was about this time that the ARC Rally was passing through as well – so we high-tailed it to the Swimming Pool (a beautiful, shallow, and clear-water anchorage).  When we arrived we saw Gilana, Reach, and Infinity – all friends.  The ARC Rally was interested in some Panama Cruising Guides.  But we were interested in shooting fish.  So we did that first, then we cleaned fish while selling Panama Cruising Guides.

Diving in The Swimming Pool

Prior to this trip, neither of us had dove this particular spot.  But we took a look at the charts and oriented ourselves – then we headed to the nearest channel.  We anchored the dinghy inside the channel, and kicked out of it – against a very strong current.  The current was strong enough that Luke decided to stay in, and I only barely managed to get outside – where there was minor relief from said current.

Once away from the current, the diving was awesome.

Playing with Stingrays

Playing with Nurse Sharks

Playing with Spotted Eagle Rays

I spent some time kicking around, and eventually saw a decent snapper holed up in about 55 feet of water.  A breathe-up, a dive, and I managed to put a spear into the snapper through a tiny hole in the coral.  The snapper freaked – and I couldn’t leave him in the hole – so I fought with him and managed to get him out and pull him to the surface.  The dive was over in less than two minutes;  it felt like a lifetime.

On the way back, with the snapper hanging on my shooting line – I saw an African Pompano.  I was single-banded (only one band on the gun) in case I saw a lobster/crab/fish in a hole.  The African Pompano headed towards me, giving me just enough time to load the second band on the speargun and turn on the GoPro.  When he finally closed the gap, I saw no less than ten – but I picked the largest out and managed to put a spear through him.  It was a marginal holding spot and he also completely freaked out.  I pulled and pulled, trying to bring him to me as quickly as possible – to keep from loosing one of the best tasting fish in the ocean.

Long story short – I captured both the African Pompano and the snapper and we had tons of fish onboard.  In fact, we gave quite a bit away, cooked another large amount, and then gave away some more the following day.  The African Pompano was a hit.  The snapper was good.

Spearfishing in The Swimming Pool

Somehow that night we switched the VHF to 16 (from 72) and turned down the volume.  So when Mike (Gilana) called us for a morning dive we missed it.  Mark (Reach) was onboard talking diving when Mike finally decided to dinghy by and invite us for a morning dive.  We were deep into a pancake breakfast, but we rallied and thirty minutes later we were geared up and ready.  Mike led us to some caves with amazing swim-throughs.  We recorded some on both the big camera and the GoPro – amazing stuff.  On the way, we shot a couple lobster and passed on innumerable Schoolmaster Snapper.  One of the caves had a swim-through that was worth capturing on video, so we did.  Obviously – freediving through caves is dangerous, so please don’t do it.

Freedive Cave Selfie

Eventually we retired and went back to the mothership.  We burned trash, cleaned dishes, drank a beer – and prepared for our evening dive.  Our evening dive was supposed to be with a friend but we got wires crossed and went out alone.  Luckily so.  We couldn’t find the exact cut in the reef to get outside – so we anchored inside and swam out.  Again – crazy current.  But we made it.  And shortly after I made it – I was greeted with a massive Cubera Snapper.  No less than 50 pounds.  In an instant we recognized each other – he realized he was no longer top of the food chain and beat a hasty retreat.  I followed, but gave up chase fairly quickly – I was outmatched in the underwater-racing department.

The swim back to the dinghy was brutal.  Something out of a Special Forces qualification.  I made it, winded, exhausted, and didn’t find Luke.  So I went back out – but took a different angle.  This angle turned out a worthwhile one.

After fifteen or twenty minutes of kicking around and checking holes – I saw a very, very large Black Grouper.  He recognized me at roughly the same time and begin swimming away from me immediately.  I followed him through the reef, into the deeper water for a while – then I tried something I haven’t tried before – I tried to herd him back to where I wanted him (the reef).  It worked.  By kicking hard and heading him off – I could turn him to where I wanted him to go.  But it was futile.  He lost me quickly once he was back on the reef.  Sneaky like a ninja, despite his massive girth.

Black Grouper Chasing

I retired to the dinghy with nothing to show, but we had so much seafood onboard that it wasn’t a problem.  That dive was strictly trophy-hunting.  And we found some trophies.

Back To Elephante

The next day we sailed out of The Swimming Pool early.  We sailed West, heading to what promised to be a truly epic party – the San Blas Australia Day Party.  My buddy Rob was organizing.  Other friends would be attending.

On the way we pulled in our Genoa and hovered in East Lemmons – where we dropped off water and boat-engine-parts to One World.  We’re hoping they’ll make it to the party.  The anchorage at Elephante was slammed.  Nothing less than 40 yachts, and it was expected to be 60 – more will undoubtedly turn up today.

Rob had all of his flags up, we originally dropped our anchor right next to him.  But it was deep, and I like anchoring shallow. So we re-anchored, visited Rob, visited the island, etc.  Then it was time to review footage.  So in preparation for the Australia Day Party, we reviewed video footage, hoping that we could put together something entertaining for y’all.  Fingers crossed.

It"s Been Awhile

I don’t know whether we’ve been a partial failure or a partial success.  I’m leaning toward the latter, but when you’re doing this full-time – it gets hard to differentiate.  There was a partial watermaker success, a total watermaker failure, and a partial spearfishing success.  We were between waves of friends in the anchorage so it was Luke and I.  And in between those waves of friends, we got bored with Yansaladup.

Escaping Watermaker Hell

I did it.  I escaped Watermaker Hell.  Not exactly as planned, though.  Long story short – when I hooked everything back up the other day, it became clear I had a problem.  Basically the watermaker has two strokes, if there is a big difference in PSI in each stroke – you have a problem.

With everything together, I noticed a wheezing sound on one stroke and a large difference in PSI in the strokes.  That means something wasn’t right.  But I was so beat, so sick of dealing with it – that I gave up and had a beer.  Then I took an interview with Sail Loot.  Then I cooked a mean fish and lemon spaghetti dish.

In the morning I started immediately with the watermaker.  There was an issue with one of the high-pressure fittings on the Clark Pump:  mainly that it had been stripped.  This was clearly something that happened before I got ahold of it, but the last time I took it apart I was able to get it back together and to hold pressure.  This time, no dice.  So I’m completely watermaker-less.  After so much work, it’s a bummer.

On the bright side – I know that watermaker inside and out.  I also fixed the problem which initiated me taking it apart originally – it was a faulty O-ring around the piston inside the Clark Pump.  When it was inside, it was very difficult to see the fault – but after removing it, it’s pretty clear.  In fact, under pressure the whole thing falls apart.

Well – the other good news is that it *appears* that Spectra has a Clark Pump exchange system – which, if correct, is exactly what I need to do.  Fingers crossed.  Of course, that doesn’t help me with my immediate freshwater need, but there’s only so much I can realistically  do about that right now.

Generator

The generator appears to be overheating, initiating an auto-kill switch.  We know there is coolant, we know she’s pumping sea-water through her.  I just cleaned the heat-exchanger.  We’re pretty stumped, but I don’t really need the generator unless I’m making water.  So.

Throttle Controls

One of my throttle control cables (a Telefax cable) was sticking, and after looking at it – I realized I needed to replace it. Which means I might as well change all of the throttle cables and keep the old (working) one’s as spares.  I only had one spare long enough for the starboard side, so I only replaced one there – but on the portside I’ve now replaced both.  So that’s one less problem to worry about, at least in the immediate future.

Of course when I got into the engine controls, I noticed a missing pin.  I couldn’t find it.  It was essential.  So I made a 75% fix with a cotter pin.  Good news, it’s working and doesn’t appears to be just as sturdy as the original pin.  A little MacGyver and we’re all set again.

Fuel Problems

There is an intermittent problem with my portside fuel system.  One of the first things to do is to establish that it’s not an air leak.  The two easy ways to do this are:  tighten all filters and hose clamps in the fuel line and install a clear tubing behind the fuel-return line.  That last part allows me to see into the fuel line when my engine gives me trouble – if there are bubbles in that part of my fuel line during said intermittent problem:  I have an air leak.  If there are not bubbles – I have another issue.

One World Returns

Yansaladup Beach Party

One World got in, bringing meats and a bit of cheese.  We bought a little, and but we still had a shortage of freshwater and vegetables.  We had a beach-sunset party, then a dinner party, and then went to sleep.  The next day we (Luke, Oliver, and I) took a whack at spearfishing outside of the reef.  We had 3-4 foot rollers coming in, so it wasn’t a dry dinghy ride and there were a couple of iffy moments.  Actually, when we finally got to the spot we were trying to dive – it was too rough to drop anchor, so we just headed back and spearfished another channel.  We largely struckout, but came home with enough lobster to make a killer lobster/fried rice dish.  We’re eating like kings, though we have an ongoing rum and beer shortage.

Heading In

With both of us being bored in Yansaladup, the anchorage beginning to fill up (and sound like middle-America, with all of the dogs barking all night) – we decided to head to an inshore island to top up on water and groceries.  And a bit of diesel too.  We opted to make a couple days out of the trip, stopping back in a favorite anchorage along the way.  I’m glad we did.

 

Spearfishing, Really, Finally

We have been shooting fish.  We have been eating lots of fish.  Those are good things. But, I would be hard-pressed to say that we’ve been having any “real” spearfishing success.  It’s been mediocre most days and downright poor others.  So when we pulled into this little anchorage we weren’t expecting much.  But we were pleasantly surprised.

After a few failed attempts at getting directly to our desired spot, we took the long way around and arrived.  I jumped in, checked the anchor and started some diving in the 30 foot range along a wall.  Nothing doing, so I came back and began exploring a channel.  There was a current ripping through the channel, and everything was out feeding and swimming in the current.  Several kinds of Jacks, a few decent Schoolmaster Snapper, Triggerfish, Spotted Eagle Rays, and Nurse Sharks.

 

I spotted a flounder, and since I haven’t eaten this variety – I put a spear in it.  We’ll try it this evening.  Then I spotted a Black Grouper and chased him to his hole.  While there I spotted a Channel Clinging Crab.  Then a very large Ocean Triggerfish, whom  I took. I returned to the dinghy to offload the flounder and triggerfish.  Then Luke and I chased the grouper around for awhile before being distracted by lobster and crab – both of which we took home.  Then we had a ton of seafood, so we headed back.  For being in this anchorage less than two hours – we did pretty well, methinks.

The biggest challenge here is finding the fish.  The Kuna are relentless divers, netters, fisherman, trappers, and spearfishermen. It’s a wonder anything survives around here.  But as we start moving away from heavy Kuna populations, we’re definitely seeing more fish and underwater life.  I’m sure there was a bunch more life in San Blas a few years before.  The influx of tourism and cruisers here has provided a market for anything from the sea, of any size.  The Kuna harvest anything they can sell – tiny lobster, juvenile fish, baby turtles, etc.  As in most parts of the world, the human species is remarkably efficient at destroying the other species – on a grand scale.  I fear the only way we’ll really see nature, the way it used to be, is getting as far away from other humans as possible.

 

 

 

Escaping Watermaker Hell

Watermaker Hell (and Freediving)

Three days.  That’s how long I’ve been working on this damn watermaker.  And it’s still not done.  I do (finally) have everything semi-working, but it’s not putting out enough freshwater to sustain Luke and I.  So, today I’m back at it.  It won’t be fully complete until I can make a run to Panama City and get parts.  Right now it’s pretty tough to get the parts I need, being anchored behind a remote island in a remote part of Panama.

The Generator

They say that the two things most prone to breaking while cruising are a) the watermaker and b) the generator.  That has proven true for me.  My diesel generator is super-handy, when it’s working.  But it’s a super-PITA when it’s not working correctly, which is fairly often.  It’s a simple thing, a single-cylinder diesel, with very few moving parts and only 500 (ish) hours on it.  Ferryman produced it originally, and then several other companies “marinized” them.  Mine is an Entech West version.  I will say that all of the problems I’ve had with it are fairly straightforward – overheating (clogged heat-exchanger tubes), overheating (loss of coolant), and fuel (bad fuel in a dirty tank).  Those things just happen.  So it’s not a flaw of design, it’s just another system to maintain.  But to me, it’s a worthwhile system to maintain.  For running power-tools, charging batteries, etc – it beats the heck out of having to run an engine.  I want engine hours to be moving S/V NOMAD somewhere.

Luke actually did a fair amount of the fixing of the generator, I had my head buried in the watermaker.  The (original) issue with the generator was a clogged fuel filter (I believe).  But the “mechanic” who did some work several months ago had overtightened the fuel filter to a ridiculous level.  We had to remove the fuel filter housing, put it in a vise, and actually ended up completely trashing my fuel filter and bending my filter wrench.  Another example of a simple task turned weird on a boat.

Of course, once we got the fuel filter changed and re-installed, I had to bleed the lines.  Then we tried to start it, and it finally did start.  But then I noticed another problem – the exhaust hose was spouting seawater.  So I killed the generator, cracked a beer, and called it a night – it was after 7PM and completely dark.  The fix was simple, and the next day I told Luke what to do and he did it, without issue.  We now have a working generator.  For at least a little while.

Watermaker Hell

So I’m changing my defunct Spectra Catalina 300 into a Spectra Cape Horn Extreme.  The major difference between the two is that the Catalina is mostly electronic and the Cape Horn is mostly mechanical.  In addition the Spectra Catalina uses a single vane pump, while the Cape Horn uses two diaphragm pumps.  Two things prompted this change – my Catalina wasn’t electronic anymore anyways, and the Catalina vane pump was in bad shape.  The repair/spare parts bill for the Spectra Catalina vane pump topped $1900, before shipping.  Insane.

So, rather than continue to shell out big-bucks for an overcomplicated, underperforming system I opted to reconfigure one to the other.  This would make more sense if I was a watermaker guru.  But I’m learning.  The hard way.

Long story a little shorter – I spent three full days bleeding, sweating, cursing, and fighting with my watermaker.  And it’s still not right.  But it’s closer. More importantly, I understand it now.  What seemed like Black Magic is now a fairly straightforward system, almost entirely mechanically controlled and almost totally overhauled. As usual though, I relied on the help of a couple of friends around here to help me understand the system and it’s requirements – here’s a public thank you to Mike and Sheila.  You are both awesome and helped me immensely – I’d be up a creek without your expertise and problem-solving.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I have a watermaker if it’s such a PITA.  Plenty of cruisers survive without them.  Well, in short, because I need it.  For many people it’s a creature-comfort, for me it’s a necessity.  S/V NOMAD was ordered from the factory with only 75 gallons of water storage onboard (the other side of the hull being a generator).  That effectively means that if I don’t have a watermaker, I spend an inordinate amount of time sailing around trying to find water.  I hate that, when I drop my anchor – the only reason I want to leave is because I’m tired of diving a certain spot.  So, I need a watermaker.

The first problem I had with my watermaker redesign was a that the pumps were shipped without the fitting that connects them to the necessary hoses. The second problem is that they originally installed my watermaker with two different inner diameter (ID) hoses (meaning I needed two different ID fittings) which I was unaware of, because they are remarkably close in outer diameter (OD) size. The third problem was that the ShurFlo fittings I ordered leak horrifically.  The last problem has to do with placement of the pumps, air bubbles in the fittings, clogged (and unnecessary) filters, leaking high-pressure fittings, and a leaky sea-strainer.

First I had air-bubbles in the lines.  Then I couldn’t get enough pressure to my Clark Pump.  Then I realize they’d installed the wrong filters in the wrong order (and too many). Then I realized that my fittings were restricting water flow.  Then I realized that my high-pressure fittings were leaking on the membrane and clark pump.  I tried to fix all of those problems, but it took an immense amount of troubleshooting, time, and talking through problems. Some parts were supplied by Mike, some by Sheila, and most brought in by Luke. An immense amount of helpful knowledge was shared by both Mike and Sheila, in the typical cruiser fashion – kindly, slowly, and without an expectation of anything in return (besides helping out when/if I can).  So cool.

As it sats this morning we were making a little bit of water – but it’s wasn’t enough, and we believe that the shortage has to do with a) a leaky sea-strainer b) leaky high-pressure fittings, c) not enough voltage getting to the pumps.  I’m was going to attempt to fix all of that tomorrow, but I decided to take a shot at rebuilding the Clark Pump, since I have it out anyways.  All of this, of course, was compounded by me breaking a filter wrench and other unforeseeable bullshit – partly self-induced. Today I took apart the entire Clark pump, replaced some leaky high-pressure fittings, etc.  Naturally it took all day, and by the end of the day when I went to try it out – it wasn’t working correctly.   Rather than fighting it tired and frustrated, I opted to take a beer break and write this post.  Then I’ll cook dinner and take a whack at it fresh in the morning.

When (or if?) I get it working correctly I’ll post some pictures of the setup and outline what I did to make it work. Of course, the way to avoid much of this is to simply NEVER buy a watermaker that is electronically controlled.  Those parts break, short, have CPU failures, get struck by lightning (it happened to me), etc.  And when all that happens, you end up trying to simplify your system – when you could have saved $3,000 and bought a simpler (and more robust) system from the get-go.  Really, sometimes I believe the choice in equipment onboard (which I inherited) was made by someone with an IQ in the mid-teens.

Still Diving

Finally! Some spearfishing photos

The first day in Watermaker Hell (the second day I was working on the watermaker, though) was spent with the entire day (from dawn to after dusk) working on the watermaker.  The second day in Watermaker Hell I managed to solve some problems and produce a few gallons of water.  Then we decided to tackle some other projects in the afternoon/evening.  Then we went diving right before sunset as a reward for being awesome.

We took a looong dinghy ride to an outer island and then dove an outer reef of that island.  Both Luke and I were pretty happy with the way we dove – I was pushing 1:30 with a depth in the 50-60 foot range pretty consistently.  We’re a long way from where we want to be, but we’re diving fairly and making a bit of progress.  More practice and we’ll be even better.

While freediving at this spot was really great, spearfishing here was meh.  That said we did kill several Lionfish, one of which was the biggest I’ve ever seen.  I also managed a long shot on a small Cero Mackerel, which makes a guy feel good about his accuracy (since said guy was missing fish just two days before).   Forgive the low-light pictures – Luke is still playing with settings.

Spearfishing in San Blas

I would have stayed there and dove for hours, but it was getting dark, we had a ton of fish onboard, and we weren’t seeing much.  We also needed to get back, clean fish, and start dinner.

Of note, Luke is starting to play with underwater video and photo.  My job continues to be mechanic/cook/provisioner/captain/navigator/parts-sourcer/spearfisherman/writer.  It’s hard to add “video-guy” to that list, but Luke is a video-guy and I’ve got a bit of faith.  Finger’s crossed.

Watermaker Hell (and Freediving)

A Reunion

I’m back in Yansaladup.  I do like this anchorage, but I’m not here because I like it – because it’s where Mom is leaving from.  Mom left yesterday, heading back to Texas where she’ll pick up her life where she left off.  Luke and I are both onboard, and back to boat projects.  The single biggest project is the water maker.  While here, we’re back in the same anchorage with a bunch of friends – Sheila and Audrey on Timeless, Mike and Laura on Gilana, Kathy and Maria on Joanna… The list goes on.  But first, back in Kuanidup…

Kuanidup

Andy on Fisher’s Hornpipe showed up when I was belowdecks trying to piece together my bastardized Spectra Catalina water maker (which I was trying to convert to a Spectra Cape Horn Extreme).  I’d made a mistake with some pieces, some didn’t make it to Luke in time, and some simply didn’t work when I got them on board.  So, I was sweating and cursing and bleeding and breaking stuff (not intentionally).

By the time I got the pumps mounted and everything connected as best I could it was almost 2 PM.  The water maker was connected but not producing freshwater.  I was starving and needed a break.  We ate, went to the main island (where they have a billiards table), and then went for a dive behind Andy’s boat.

The first dive I shot a nice trigger at 35 feet.  The third dive I saw a nice Jack of somekind at 55 feet as I was on my way up.  I never did see him again.  I managed to plant a spear in a giant schoolmaster – but it managed to wiggle off somehow.  After a few more dives we moved closer to the mothership and dove the shallower water with better visibility as the sun went down.

That night we planned a bonfire on the beach with Andy and his crew.  We picked some fish up from Andy, started some Spanish rice, and then Luke and I set up our beach party.  Eventually Andy and crew jumped onboard and we had dinner – then we all went to the beach and started trying to find the bottom of rum bottles.  I’m happy to report we were able to find the bottoms of said rum bottles.  Three times.  The conversations ranged from sailing, to boat maintenance, to the concept of freedom (and how a autonomous sailing vessel can provide that).  Then everyone went home.

Rocking and Rollling

We were in a great spot for North or Northeast swell, but overnight the wind picked up and our Northeast swell turned into something closer to East.  With the wind still coming from the Northeast – we were taking a beam swell, making us rock and roll in our otherwise very protected anchorage.  Add to that our shenanigans of the night before — and Luke ended up skipping breakfast.

I felt fine, I’ve been doing this stay-up-late-with-rum thing for a few months and I’ve adapted methinks.  So Mom and I decided to try a dive.  I gave Andy a call on the VHF, asked him how he was doing – he replied with “Ugggggghhhhh.”  Which meant it was me and Mom on the dive this morning, sans Andy.  We took off for the barrier reef surrounding our two islands, anchored in the lee of the reef, and kicked around the corner to the outside wall.  The wall wasn’t very deep, but there was excellent visibility and beautiful coral.  I was diving but I wasn’t too worried about shooting fish – I was having too much fun just exploring.

That changed though.

About 30 minutes into the dive I spotted what appeared to be a barracuda moving really quickly.  I was diving with only one band, of two, cocked on my speargun – expecting to shoot into a hole for snapper/lobster/crab.  I quickly loaded the other band and dove to get a better look – the fish was angled toward me, and as it got closer I realized it was a very, very nice Cero Mackerel.  Definitely the largest I’ve seen.  I made a couple of kicks, the fish came within range, I pulled the trigger and… I missed.  In my defense, they’re a super-fast fish that rarely provides a decent shot.  That said – I should have hit him.  I was a little bummed, as it was a nice fish.

So I went back into sightseeing mode.  I was so relaxed that I forgot to even reload the speargun as I was kicking around.  Which is when I saw a really nice dinner-sized Dog Snapper.   Naturally, when the snapper spotted me – it took off like a bullet.  I reloaded and followed at a distance, trying to keep the fish within my sight but I lost it.

The Hunt

With my speargun loaded I kicked around a bit and eventually found where I thought the Dog Snapper holed up.  I hung around for a couple of minutes and sure enough – I saw him poke his snout out of the hole in about 25 feet of water.  It was like Christmas morning, seeing that snout.

These Dog Snapper are smart – they’ve been hunted since they were babies.  The Kuna are very persistent in their fishing and spearfishing efforts.  This one was no exception, so I settled in for a good hunt.

The strategy here is to put the coral head (which he was hiding in) between myself and the fish, and be underwater (and in position) when he came out to locate me.  Then plant a decent shot and keep him out of his hole as I ascend.  I tried this three or four times, but he always seemed to come out when I was out of breath or on the surface.

But he made a mistake.  He got gutsy and left his hole when another smaller Dog Snapper swam by.  I reckoned he would shoot back to his hole when he saw me descend, so I waited to let him get further from his hole – and then planted myself on top of his coral head.  I was right, he hauled ass back to his coral head when he saw me coming – but I was in position.

The shot actually surprised me, it was purely instinctual, I didn’t even realize I was shooting.  A long shot, but a hit.  The spear struck the spine, so I just ascended and pulled him up behind me.  At this point we had way more fish than we needed, so I just headed back to the dinghy.

Dinner-Sized Dog Snapper

On the mothership I cleaned the snapper, we had a snack, and we picked up anchor and headed to Yansaladup.  We were motor-sailing with light winds from an unfavorable angle.  The port engine was being a PITA again, so I was a little edgy when we needed to maneuver into the tight anchorage -but we made it, dropped the pick and it set first time.

A Giant in the Desert

Where we dropped the anchor was a barren desert – just sand.  But I wanted to see the anchor, so I dove it and found it well-planted.  From there I was just diving and playing around on my way back to the boat, when I found myself in a school of baitfish.  I followed the school to a sunken log, almost invisible from the surface.  I told Luke about it, then dove down – hoping to see a lobster underneath.

I had my head all the way under the log when I spotted a huge set of canines not more than a few inches in front of the mask.  I was as surprised as the fish was apparently – it was a big Dog Snapper, but I didn’t have time to really judge his size.

I surfaced, we got the GoPro ready and I loaded my speargun.  This would make for cool video.  When everything was ready, Luke and I dove.  But when I leveled off where I could see the fish (under the log) he was pointed out the other way, and with a flick of his tail was gone.  I never had a chance.  And he was way larger than I realized at first.  Another nice fish escaped.

Mom’s Last Dive

Mom wanted to have one more dive before she left, and I was happy to oblige.  I had plenty of fish, so I took Luke’s polespear and designated myself the crab/lobster/lionfish hunter.  Luke took his speargun, rather than the camera.  Mom took nothing.

We dove a wall, and at first everything seemed quiet, but as the sun started sinking – everything came out to hunt.  Including lionfish.  I went on a full-scale lionfish slaughter, all the while checking holes for crab and lobster.  I hit no fewer than 15 lionfish.  They’re definitely taking over the reefs here.  At one point I had four tangled up on the three-prong polespear, but I lost two of those four when I shot a fifth.  Luke popped a nice Ocean Trigger, but it escaped with only a scar and a story.

Cleaning Lionfish

I managed to actually get two of the larger lionfish back to the dinghy.  Mom found a conch, and we headed back to S/V NOMAD.  I cleaned the lionfish for a friend of ours in the anchorage who loves them (we were full of fish), then started on the conch.  My first shot at cleaning a conch wasn’t perfect, but I got it done.

We ate well, played Texas Hold’Em, and retired a little before midnight.  Mom was up early, we shared a last coffee together, and she boarded a launcha bound for Panama City.  The the days of Watermaker Hell began.

A Reunion

Good Days

Luke’s first day here was one of those days that I spend time and energy trying to create and recreate.  When I was typing this we were the only yacht anchored behind our own little deserted island.  And we weren’t just anchored behind it – we were within a stone’s throw.  Super cool.

Luke Made It

Luke was supposed to arrive by plane at 6:30 AM, but naturally that didn’t work out.  The little airplane company didn’t give him the correct information regarding surfboards on the plane – so he ended up having to take a cab, then jeep, then boat.  He arrived about five hours late.  No problem though.

Boat Christmas

Every time someone comes to visit – my boat has a small Christmas party.  It’s not a Christmas in the sense that everyone onboard gets a bunch of useless crap.  It’s a Christmas in the sense that I get the chance to import the stuff I need to fix everything that continues to break around me.  Over the last two or three months, I’ve actually begun enjoying (some parts of) working on the boat – so this makes me happy.  I was stoked when I started pulling out all of those hard-to-find boat parts from Luke’s bags.

We stowed gear and then went on a pineapple, rum, and egg run.  Within two hours we were picking up the anchor and shortly thereafter sailing out of Porvenir at 7 knots.  The was a steady wind, the right amount of sun, and only a small chop.  We made it to our island within two hours.

Our Island

Originally I tried to drop anchor really close to the inhabited island of our little two-island chain.  But one of the Kuna’s started yelling something from shore, so I backed out and headed further away from relative “civilization.”  Easily accomplished in the lee of the uninhabited island just a kilometer away.  So I nosed S/V NOMAD almost onto the beach of this island and dropped the anchor in about 10 foot of water.  I backed out and left 100 foot of chain on the bottom, and we were hooked in a near-perfect anchorage:  nice breeze, great view, alone, and no waves to speak of.  The pictures here look kinda dark, we’re working on that – but rest assured it was sunny and breezy.

Dinghy Fixing

From Our Island

Adventures in dinghy-land left me with a deflatable dinghy.  Meaning that I was pumping it up daily, and generally getting sick of dealing with it.  But Mom had found the three pinhole leaks that we thought were responsible – so armed with some superglue we beached the dinghy, deflated it, and superglued the crap out of those pinhole leaks.  Judging from the way it’s sitting behind the boat this morning – we at least temporarily fixed our problem.

Freediving.  Really.  Finally.

Luke was beat, but he was being a trooper.  I wanted to go for a dive to check this area out – he joined with a GoPro and a polespear.  The area that we were diving was a stone’s throw from the mothership in fairly protected waters – which is a dramatic change from diving the outer edges of barrier reefs (our previous dive spots).  It wasn’t great visibility, but we had 25 feet – maybe a little more.

Freediving in San Blas

In the lee of our island, there was a ledge where the coral dropped off to about 50 feet.  Again – no current, no waves, decent visibility.

With only a couple of hours of sleep the night before and no lunch, I wasn’t in perfect condition – but I did start actually working on my freediving.  I managed a couple of dives upwards of 1:30, which felt great.  Luke had already returned to the boat, so I didn’t really push it – but I have a feeling with a couple weeks of diving more consistently I’ll be upwards of 2 minutes.  That’s where I need to be to hunt well around here.  The fish are really spooky, so you have the best shot at them when you dive deep (surprise them) and stay long (intrigue them).  Both of those require a pretty significant breathhold.  This is working time underwater, while actively spearfishing.  That’s different than hanging out in a pool and holding one’s breath.

We had a great dinner of grilled fish, coleslaw, and some grilled vegetables.  Then I had a Cuba Libre and started reading Moby Dick again.  Mellville’s style really isn’t that intriguing to me, so it’s a struggle.

It’s rare when you get to combine sailing, free diving, and time spent on a deserted island all in one day.  It’s even more rare when you do that and nothing breaks, and there aren’t any almost-emergencies. After nearly eight months of this, I can count those days on one hand.

So when we have days like yesterday, it’s a great reminder of why I started doing this.

Good Days

More Wind

Right now I’m rocking and rolling in Porvenir, one of the anchorages with an airport in San Blas – waiting on Luke to get here.  But over the last few days, we’ve been all over San Blas.  We’ve done some great sailing, but the wind continues to howl out of the Northeast – putting a damper on the diving.  We’re hoping that it straightens out over the next few days, meaning the wind comes from the North and lightens up a bit.

 

Escaping Yansaladup

We spent a lot of time in Yansaladup – there was boat work to be done and the wind was strong enough that it wasn’t going to be much fun sailing.  But with the boat work slowly winding down, I was itching to sail and explore a bit.  We headed East, into the more protected (nearshore) areas of San Blas.  With only a small channel crossing,  it wasn’t harsh sailing.

My wind gauge had just stopped working (I’ll tackle that next time we settle down) so I wasn’t sure exactly how fast the wind was blowing – but it was in the 20 knot range.  When we raised the sails, I decided to leave the main all the way up and reef the headsail.  That was the wrong move.  After about 20 minutes of sailing I reckoned we were pushing the boat a little too much so I put a reef in the main and the headsail.  Even with that, we were doing between 6-7 knots.

Miriasdup

Coming through Bannedup, we fell in behind a larger catamaran heading the same way.   We ended up taking the same headings, tacks, wind angles, and approaches until we both saw the same protected anchorage.  We headed in and dropped the hook, the anchor set right away – I dove it, it was fine.  Shortly thereafter the family onboard the other catamaran (Stray Catz, a Privilege 43 I think) came over and said hi.  We ended up taking their son spearfishing, and they ended up teaching us to clean conch.  Here we also bought a crab and a lobster from the Kuna.  Needless to say, we ate well that night.

The spearfishing was completely and utterly uneventful here.  Add to that no live coral and fair-to-middling visibility, and I knew we weren’t destined to spend much time in Miriasdup.  So the next morning we picked up anchor and headed East again.

Ednasdup

Sailing East again, behind the protection of a barrier reef and some islands angling from the West to the Southeast – we had another great sail.  We averaged between 7-8 knots, but we kept full sail up the whole way.  As we were sailing through I saw a few boats tucked in behind Ednasdup and was able to raise a friend of ours in the anchorage.  That was enough reason to run in there and drop the hook, which we did.

 

 

It’s amazing how well protected this anchorage was in these wind conditions.  Not even a ripple in the anchorage, and exactly the right amount of wind (8-10 knots) in the lee side of the island. Which explains why there were 15-20 yachts anchored around us. Mike and Laura (Gilana), Maria and Kathy (Joanna), Jamie (Kookaburra), and Chris and Alex (Blue Wind) were all familiar faces – having all migrated from Yansaladup to this more protected anchorage.

As we motored in, we saw everyone getting ready to kite surf.  It was a warm welcome.  Despite how protected this anchorage was, it wasn’t an easy spot to anchor.  There were quite a few yachts, and the holding was marginal (a thin layer of sand over hard-packed grass).  I eased up in front of Kookaburra and Joanna and dropped the anchor.  It pulled a bit so I picked the anchor back up, dropped it closer to the island, and let out more scope.  Still not perfect, but the wind was predicted to be steady and we had virtually no waves.

A short exploring trip and we bumped into all of our friends. Where we learned Jamie was hosting a birthday party for Kathy.  Which was convenient, as I was anchored a stone’s throw from Jamie’s yacht (Kookaburra).  Even if things got a little rowdy, I could certainly weave my dinghy back to the mothership – all of 50 meters.

We left our friends to do some diving along a reef wall, hoping to bring something back so I could whip together some ceviche for Kathy’s B-Day.  I saw a few Cero Mackerel that weren’t very enticing, and missed one.  Then I saw a giant lion fish, who I decided to take home with me.  There were a few Bar Jacks and Blue Runners in the mix, but nothing that was sufficiently tempting.  So I took the lion fish back, made some ceviche, and got ready for the party.

The Party

All events are celebrated out here.  All of them.  Minor, major, or insignificant – it doesn’t take much to convince a bunch of cruising friends to get together to have drinks and eat finger-food for a few hours. Jamie told me everyone in the anchorage was coming.  I asked her what the record number of people onboard was – apparently something close to 25.  We both believed there would be a record set that night.

 

There was already quite a crowd of people onboard when we arrived – many of them new faces.  We did a few introductions, and then noticed that we’d put Kookaburra’s waterline about a foot lower than it was.  So we moved some people forward, where I sat down and finally had a beer with Mark (and Michelle) who is onboard S/V Reach.  He’s also a spear fisherman, has a catamaran, and has been in this area for awhile.  We’ve been emailing for probably a year or so, off and on – but that night was the first time we actually met.  It’s cool how that works out.

The party was a hit, Jamie is an awesome host and a super-cool woman.  I’m worried when her husband gets back from this delivery, that we’ll see less of her.

Soon it was down to the usual suspects, and getting a little late.  Mom was getting tired, I was out of beer.  We said our goodbyes and headed back to S/V NOMAD.  The next morning we listened to the net (SSB 8107 at 08:30), made the rounds to say goodbye – and took off for Porvenir.

Porvenir

The sail here was wonderful.  We averaged almost 8 knots the whole way, so it took us no time at all to get here.  One of these days I’m going to put a new mainsail on and take off all the excess weight – I’m excited to see what she’ll do then.  Even right now, it’s not bad for less than 38 foot of waterline.

Porvenir was a little crowded when we dropped the hook, and the holding wasn’t quite as nice as I’d like.  So we ended up re-anchoring once, but eventually we had enough scope out that I was comfortable.  We anchored right next to the airstrip, as we were waiting on Luke to fly in – but no matter how tucked-in to the island we got – we had either a stiff breeze or a beam swell.  So we’re a bit rolly right now, and it’s humorous to watch Mom moving around as if the we were in 15 foot seas.  She’s really spoiled on this catamaran, I can’t imagine how she’d be moving around if we were in a monohull.

After anchoring we went shopping.  First stop was dinghy fuel, next was food and alcohol.  Then we noticed One World and dropped by to say hello.  From there we saw Fisherman’s Hornpipe and dropped by there – where Andy had shot a Cobia off his deck the night before. He gave me some fresh fish and invited us over for dinner, then told us where we could pick up some fresh vegetables.  So we went back to another island to do some veggie shopping.

There we bumped into Lisa, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite people – but is heading to Columbia shortly.  After a couple of beers with Lisa, we headed back to One World.  I had a beer there, then came back to S/V NOMAD where we dropped off our groceries and cooked some rice to bring to dinner on Fisherman’s Hornpipe.

The trek back to Fisherman’s Hornpipe wasn’t too difficult, but it was threading between two reefs, at night, with a fair swell.  But I made it without issue and ended up staying and drinking until about 1AM.  It seemed like everytime I was ready to go, the wind would pick up or it would start to rain – both of which are excellent excuses for the “just one more beer” line.  But all good things must come to an end, and I needed to be up at 5:30AM to have a cup of coffee before meeting Luke at the airport.

Where In The World Is Luke

At about 6AM I was getting ready to head off in my dinghy to the airport – when I got a message on Facebook from Luke.  Apparently his flight from Albrook to San Blas was a bit of a disaster.  Despite having confirmed surfboards being allowed on said flight, when the kiosk opened up – they wouldn’t let him on the flight with his surfboards.  Major bummer.

Well.  There was one taxi at Albrook, Luke jumped in that, and from there jumped in a jeep.  From there jumped in a launcha/panga, and eventually (5 hours later) ended up onboard.  As I’m writing this, his journey is finally winding down.  But we’re about to go on a last-minute liquor and egg run, pick up the hook, and haul butt to somewhere with less rolling and hopefully more diving.

So, really, one adventure of Luke’s is over – and the other is just beginning.

More Wind

Wind and Work

It’s been a productive few days around here.  I can attribute that to having the crap kicked out of us by wind, day and night, which effectively killed my diving.  The wind was averaging about 30 knots, with seas upwards of 15 feet.  Without the ability to dive, the only thing to do was work on the boat – which I did.

Wind and Work

The Christmas Trades blew in, with a vengeance.  I’m happy to have wind again, but this much isn’t exactly what I was hoping for. The forecast is calling for the winds and waves to decrease over the next few days – but it’s been near gale-force here and actually gale-force in Cartagena, Colombia (where we have some friends hunkered down).

The good news is I’ve been diving the anchor and the only thing the wind did was dig us in deeper.  Despite the wind, I was confident enough in our anchor that I was sleeping well.

Generator

First I got the generator working (temporarily).  After troubleshooting, I was able to narrow it down to a fuel problem, and I attributed it to a clog in my portside fuel tank.  So I blew out the fuel lines, bled them, and after a couple of hours – the generator cranked right up.  I was feeling pretty good about it, and moved on to my next task – the saildrives.

Saildrives

Some fishing line around the props damaged an oil-seal, which was allowing saltwater into the saildrive oil.  On my starboard side it was worse.  The absolute fix for this is hauling the boat and replacing the seals.  I really, really don’t want to spend that money right now, unless I have to – not to say anything about the time and hassle involved. So I brought over a friend (thanks Mike!) to tell me how serious he thought it was, and he did far more than offer his opinion on serious/not serious.  He suggested a similar fix to a commentator on this site – Doug. Doug – you were right, and Mike convinced me to try it.  Thanks for the intelligent suggestion!  The “fix” is installing a sail drive oil reservoir above the waterline, that feeds into the sail drive.  This creates gravity-fed, positive pressure in the sail drive – meaning that I don’t (in theory) get saltwater into my sail drive.  I created this system over a day or so, with an empty gear-lube bottle, some aquarium tubing, and some super-tricky drilling.  I’ll post pictures after I sea-trial it.  Of note – I did this on only one sail drive (starboard) to test it out.  If it works, I’m going to convert both sail drives to this setup.  It’s not too difficult, but doing any modification to something as important as my saildrives does give me pause.

Watermaker

Next up – dumming down my water maker.  The water maker I have onboard is the Spectra Catalina 300 MPC.  It’s a 12V system that is capable of a whopping 12-14 gallons per hour, when it’s working correctly.  When I finally decided to do my change/upgrade I was producing (maybe) 1 gallon an hour.  Because there was no blockage in my lines/my thru-hull, and my accumulator was pressurizing correctly – the feed pump was suspect.  It was corroded, hot, and making funny noises.  It’s also the most failure-prone part of the system.

When I purchased the boat, I was told that the MPC (computerized control unit) wasn’t hooked up but that it worked.  That was a bold-faced lie, courtesy of the previous owner.  And I was such a fool I didn’t check it.  The truth, which I found out afterward, is that when the boat was struck by lightning 3 years prior – the MPC part of the unit was blown.  Since then it had been operating in “emergency mode” – which is, in effect, a manual water maker.  That’s fine, but the previous owner didn’t remove all of the excess wiring, tubing, solenoids, etc – that were the brains/heart of the MPC.  And, when operating manually, the Bodine Electric Vane Pump didn’t have the automatic safety checks in place.

These vane pumps are especially sensitive to being run dry, among other things.  They’re also expensive.  So I decided, on my boat – they aren’t a real solution.  With that in mind, I needed to remove that part of the system, all excess wiring and tubing, and then cannibalize the stuff I removed to use for spare parts.  That, replacing corroded hose clamps, and tightening connections took all of a day.  Not a ton of fun – but I got it done.  As of now, I’m waiting on Luke to bring in those ShurFlo Pumps (part number:  8008-943-839) – which should be fairly simple to install.  I ordered mine from CLR Marine.  The only other thing I needed was a couple of ShurFlo elbows, a couple of T’s, and a couple of Y’s.  These were much harder to find than I thought – but I found them at US Plastics.

Windlass

Since I’ve owned the boat, I’ve been popping the 75AMP breaker that “protects” my windlass.  It doesn’t happen every time I pull in the chain/anchor, but it does happen.  Since the problem is intermittent, and I only notice it when I’m picking up anchor – I didn’t tackle it in my “refit” in Puerto Lindo.  But I quickly became sick of it.  There’s nothing worse than having your anchor halfway up, in strong winds, and having to run below to flip a breaker.

So I did two things – first I checked the breaker.  Seemed fine.  Then I pulled the manual and sat down to do some reading – turns out that there are two models of my windlass – the Lewmar H2 and the H3.  I didn’t know which one I had – but both called for a breaker over 75 AMP.  So, again, the previous owner had done something not-so-intelligent by installing an under-sized breaker.  I sifted through my spares and managed to find a 110AMP breaker – which would be perfect if I had the H3 version of this windlass.  Since I didn’t know, and wanted to inspect the windlass anyways – I got into the anchor-locker and pulled apart the windlass.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was still in excellent shape, and I learned it was the H3.  So I swapped the 75AMP breaker for the 110AMP breaker I had onboard.  We’ll see today if this fixed my problem, but it’s pretty likely fixed.

Generator (again)

About this time I began using some power tools.  Which means that I cranked up the generator I thought I had “fixed.”  Of course, it ran for awhile and then died again.  Not cool.  I managed to get the rest of my work done using my inverter.  Then I pulled everything out of the locker with my generator in it and started all of the troubleshooting again.  After awhile, it seemed like my fuel/water separator might be clogged.  When I put the filter-wrench on the filter, it became clear that it was a little too tight.  I managed to crumple the outside of the filter without it budging.  Before I completely destroyed the filter, I went below to look for it’s replacement – and I didn’t find it.  I tore the boat apart – but I couldn’t find the replacement filter.  That was a major bummer.  I dropped everything, jumped on the computer and tried to find somewhere I could overnight the filters to Luke.  I managed to find a place that would ship quickly, but nowhere would guarantee delivery by the date I needed it.  I took a chance and ordered the replacement anyways.  If they don’t get here, I’ll just have to figure something else out.  Complete amateur move – heading off without a filter replacement, but I swore I bought them.

Dinghy

The best all-around dinghy is the inflatable dinghy, if you excuse price and the fact that they don’t sail well, don’t row well, deflate and are a PITA to repair.  Which means they aren’t always the best all-around dinghy. But for my purposes – they’re a pretty good dive platform, pretty light, simple to get in/out of, don’t sink, and are fairly comfortable.  Add to that the fact that they don’t ding up my (or other people’s) boat when I come alongside.

Well.

Mine started to deflate.  It’s clearly not a new dinghy, and I’ve been threatening to get a new one.  My thought on the inflatables is that if you choose to go the inflatable (also known as “deflatables”) – with heavy use you’ll probably need to replace them every 5 years or so to keep them from adding to your list of maintenance items.  Mine is about 7 years old.  It’s had a tough life.

More than a couple of people have asked:  Why replace your dinghy?  Why don’t you just patch it? 

Experienced cruisers know better.  When a dinghy starts to go, there are a myriad of problems that begin happening all at once.  One pinhole leak turns into 5.  Things begin separating.  Seats fall off.  Handles tear out.  Old patches fail.  Fiberglass bottoms become waterlogged.  Davit-points begin to leak.  Oars don’t clip in anymore.  My thought is that I have so many maintenance headaches already – the last thing I want is to have to worry about my dinghy.  As such, if I can afford it – I’m going to replace it relatively soon.  I don’t know if I can afford it yet, but here is what I’m looking at.

The contenders for my new dinghy are:

• Caribe 10ft Fiberglass – Solid, dependable.  Heavier than the all of the AB’s below.  Likely slightly cheaper.


• AB 10ft Fiberglass – Same as the above, with a slightly lower weight and likely a little higher quality.


• AB 10ft Aluminum – Lighter than everything above, decently thick hull, more expensive.


• AB 11ft Aluminum – Roughly the same weight as my current dinghy (and the new Caribe 10ft), with greater stability, a very high-quality (thick) aluminum hull, more room, and more waterline.  A definite favorite, the issue being the price.

Two things put the AB’s ahead of the Caribe, right now:

1. They have a limited 10 year warranty.  I’m hoping for 5-7 years of service out of this inflatable.  I’m really happy to see a company show some level of confidence in the longevity of their products.  Especially considering what kind of abuse these things take.


2. They’re made in Columbia, which is my next-door neighbor.  I can justify a trip to Cartagena to sell my current dinghy and replace it with a top-of-the-line AB, if I get a good enough price.

Stuff

Having people come in from the States has helped me immensely during this refit.  With the speed at which things break and need to be replaced, refitting without having people that can help by being boat-parts-mules would be longer and more difficult.

Luke is coming down to help me start capturing the trip on video.  I’m finally at a point that The Nomad Trip will start proving to be an adventure, as opposed to an exercise in boat-refit futility.  So I didn’t plan on shipping much to Luke. But that’s changed as things have broken.  From the simple to the complex, having access to the postal system and system of commerce available in the US is immensely valuable.

Here’s a small example.  Yesterday I ran out of drill battery in my portable drill.  I slapped in my spare, which I always keep charged, and found it wasn’t charged.  I plugged my charger in, put the spare battery on it, and found that the charger wasn’t charging it.  After a bit of inspection it became clear that the battery had corroded – a result of an ex-crewmember leaving it out in the rain overnight.  Without a spare battery, simple boat projects can drag on for days. But with someone coming down from the States, I was able to buy a refurbished drill, and two new batteries (for the price of a single new battery in Panama). Thank the little Baby Jesus.  Even more important is replacing my French Press – which Mom dropped off of the back of the boat the other day when cleaning it.

So.  Today we’re going to get some water from a (very nice) neighbor, then sea-trial all of my fixes.  Then Luke comes down, and we’ll have a full boat until Mom leaves.  It’ll be cool to have another young freediver aboard, and I’ll be able to provide a better look into my life – through Luke’s video.  Stoked about that, and hope you are too.

 

 

Wind and Work

HAPPY NEW YEARS!  We had a great New Year.  After the family left, we took a day to clean and re-organize.  But the following day we went for a dive in the morning and then sailed out of Elephante (West Lemmons) to hang out with some other friends and celebrate the New Year. Mike and Laura were surprised to see us, but they were onboard for dinner within a couple hours – they’re onboard Gilana (gilana.org).  Mom enjoyed their company and was happy to have some like-aged people to converse with.

 

A Cruising New Year

Free diving, spearfishing, and sailing.  I got pretty lucky free diving and spearfishing in Elephante.  I managed to see a Black Grouper and a nice Dog Snapper (who graciously gave himself up for dinner).  The Black Grouper came through when I was loading the speargun, naturally, and was gone just as quickly as he arrived.

While I was busy kicking myself about the Black Grouper, I noticed the outline of a snapper about 35 feet under.  Once I locked on, I could tell he was a Dog Snapper – and that he was a great eating size.  A quick pursuit and a bit of feigned apathy put me within 10 feet of him – which put him onboard S/V NOMAD.  He was more than we needed for dinner – but I had faith that we could tempt someone over for dinner.  And we did.

Dog Snapper in Elephante

The sail to Yansaladup was relatively uneventful.  It was a close wind-angle, but we managed with a bit of tacking.  When we pulled into Yansaladup – it was clear that the rumor of a New Year’s party had gotten around.  The rumor included a bunch of fireworks, a couple of pigs, and a bunch of alcohol.  Of those three things – we managed two.

With a full anchorage, I took advantage of our shallow draft and a steady wind direction by getting in close to the island.  The anchor held first time, I dove it and we were good.  Seeing that anchor in so deep, so quickly, made me pretty happy.  A quick dinghy ride over to Mike set up dinner plans, and then I headed to check out the kite-surfers on the island.  They were some Americans (Denver, Colorado) onboard a charter boat – One World (sailingoneworld.com).  One World is run by a couple of young Coloradan ladies, and they know how to throw a party.  The kiters needed a ride back to their ship, I volunteered and there I was invited onboard for a beer – which I rarely turn down.  One thing led to another and I managed to confirm a beach-party for New Years – although the availability of the rumored roast pigs was in question.

Kite Surfing in Yansaladup

The next day we went for a quick dive and I picked up a giant Lionfish and a decent Ocean Trigger for dinner.  With that fish, some alcohol, and my new BlueTooth speakers – we were armed for the New Year’s Party.  And party we did.

Lionfish and Jack

The Party

Party time!  The crew, captains, and guests onboard One World were at the island a bit after dark.  I actually put on a shirt for the occasion, which means it was an occasion.  When we secured our dinghy onshore the cooking was about to start – so we were just in time.  We did all of the cooking in our Kuna host’s hut, over an open flame.  There was a pretty expansive menu, considering we were sailing in a fairly remote part of Panama.   I cooked and drank for couple hours – then the party moved to the beach, with a bonfire.  Around midnight the fireworks started and the champagne was popped – all thanks to those wonderful girls onboard One World.

Some of the crowd retired just before midnight, a few more just afterward.  But some of us kept going for a bit.  And that, as always, is when the most fun happens.  This was no exception.

 

The Aftermath

Ouch.  Considering the hour at which I made it back to S/V NOMAD – it was surprising that I was up before 8AM.  But I was.  A cup of coffee and I started poking about for all of my belongings.  Couldn’t find the speakers.  So I headed back to the beach, where I discovered how a New Year’s party looks in the daylight.  I cleaned, returned some stuff to One World, and finally made it back to breakfast.

I was beat after breakfast (almost noon) and started another reading of Moby Dick, only to wake up an hour later drooling on the book.  Methinks the siesta is a remarkable idea, and one that I thoroughly enjoy.  I tried to start the generator and it didn’t want to start.  That’s a bummer.

So then I started an engine and kicked on my water maker.  I figured it was a good time to check water.  I quickly found that we were almost emergency-status on freshwater, which is disturbing.  I checked the water maker and found it was back to it’s previous antics – not producing water, making weird noises, and the feed pump was a little too warm for comfort.

 

Boat Stuff Breaking

Well, shit.  Back into major-maintenance mode.  The worse news was that nobody was open on New Years Day, so I was going to have to troubleshoot, make purchase decisions, and ship things (quickly) to a friend coming to join me shortly.  Semi-panicked web-searching began in earnest.  I figured out who to call, what I needed, and then we went for  another dive.  This time the current was ripping, the waves were pounding, and the wind was whipping.  So we stayed inside the barrier reef – and were fairly limited in fish.  But I scrounged dinner from a small Cero Mackerel and another Ocean Triggerfish.

After the hunt I went back to the island, where I was informed that One World had run out of beer.  I had as well.  So I decided to make a beer run.  One World scrounged together some money, I picked up their galley-slave and together we headed for more beer.  Two hours later I was back with beer – we got a little distracted when we bumped into other friends during said beer run.

Needless to say, the diving, the remaining headache, and the beer-run prevented me from tackling the generator and the water maker issue.  I opted to have a beer with the crew, the captains, and the guests onboard One World.  Then was in bed before 9PM.

The Parts Search

Bummer.  I like to say I’m out of the “refit stage” – but just about the time I say that, something else fairly major breaks.  Yesterday I spent the day searching for parts, calling whatever businesses were open, and buying stuff online – so I could pay exorbitant shipping fees trying to get them to Luke, so I wouldn’t have to leave San Blas.

One thing I did was decided against replacing the expensive vane-pump in my Spectra Catalina Watermaker.  It’s a Bodine Electric 12V unit that is remarkably expensive, prone to breaking (fragile), and generally not an intelligent thing to have on this kind of boat.  For me to replace the Bodine motor, the head pump, and have spares – it was going to cost me over $1,900 (without shipping).  I opted to put two of the Shurflo 125PSI diaphragm pumps together, and buy a spare.  That’s going to mean I have to do some minor plumbing and engineering – but it leaves me with the following plusses:

• I have two feed-water-pumps in my system.  If one fails, I can run the other with an expected 1/2 output of the 12-14 gallons per hour.


• I can (and did) buy a spare pump and simply insert the whole pump when one invariably fails, without sacrificing all of my water-making ability.


• With all three pumps and shipping – I saved over $1,000.


• In my opinion, those SurFlo diaphragm pumps will more tolerant of rough operating conditions – they are self-priming, can be run dry, and can be installed up to 7 ft above the water source.  That’s way cool compared to the motor/pump combo I have now that just makes noise and generates heat – likely due to being mounted above the waterline and occasionally running dry when the hull lifts out of the water in rough weather.

In other boat-related-broken-shit, I have a trampoline that’s falling apart.  I figured out a quick-fix, and Mom’s been working on that – thank whatever God you may believe in.  I now have water in my sail drive oil due to my own foolishness in getting fishing-line wrapped around my props.  And that sail drive oil is leaking onto my sail drive boot because the sail drive oil seals that I had replaced (A MONTH AGO) obviously didn’t do an acceptable job of sealing in said sail drive oil.  Oh, and the generator still won’t start…. Real boat-maintenance started this morning.  In preparation for that, last night I drank a few beers and watched Band Of Brothers.

Today I’m going to sweat that out and make some progress on these boat projects.  If I’m lucky, I’ll squeeze in a dive.

A Cruising New Year