I was eating lunch with my two new anchors at my side, staring at my sailmaking machine, and thought to myself “hmm, I never thought I’d share my living room/dining room with two anchors and a sewing machine.”   I was obligated to take a picture of the scenario.

The anchors are new, to replace the one twenty-pounder that came with the boat, and I’ll be writing a post about replacing all of my ground tackle once that process is complete.

32mm, ISO800, f4.0, 1/15 sec, bounce flash off the cabin top.

Right now I have two 12 volt batteries powering my DC electrical system.  My AC system is supplied by “shore power” from the dock, which also charges my batteries.  While off the grid and sailing, my only power comes from the batteries, which can only be charged from my engine alternator.  See a problem for long-term cruising?  Normally I wouldn’t care to not have AC power, but I’ll need to charge camera batteries, charge my laptop, and power my printer to run a photography business from my vessel.  Additionally, there’s my sailmaking (not sewing) machine, drill, and portable vacuum that require AC power – things I’ll only occasionally use and could really get by without having.  These systems require an inverter to convert my batteries’ DC power to AC power, and this power will need to be replenished by a source other than my engine (for now, solar).

Determining Power Needs.  So how much AC power will I need?  Let’s make a list of all my AC systems to figure this out.

Laptop: 1.5 Amps, 180 Watts
Printer: 83mA, 10W
Sailrite: 1.5A, 180W
Corded drill: 5.2A, 624W
Dremel: 1.15A, 138W
Jigsaw: 4A, 480W
Space heater: 12.5A, 1500W
Dirt Devil: 4A, 480W
Battery charger: Negligible
2-qt slow-cooker: 1A, 120W

Adding all this up, we come up with 3,712 Watts.  This is ridiculous!  I’m not even bringing my space heater with me once I set off, since I have alternate means of heating my cabin if I need to and plenty of warm clothes.  I only have four plugs on the boat and won’t be using all of these at once.  So I really just need an inverter to power my corded drill at 624W, my highest energy consumer.  For the few  minutes I’ll ever be using that, I can unplug my other AC systems.  In fact, I don’t ever anticipate having more than two AC systems plugged-in while off the grid (gotta save battery power).  So we’re looking for an inverter with two outlets built-in and a capacity of at least 624 Watts plus a safety pad (we’ll get into DC requirements once we start looking at batteries).  I won’t be running any systems with AC induction motors; those motors need inverters at least three times their rated power due to start-up requirements.

Pure Sine or Modified Sine?  Alternating current power, as the name implies, alternates between positive and negative polarity.  Power you get from the electrical company alternates that voltage smoothly, resulting in a wave that looks like a sine (if you remember anything from trig class).  Inverters can provide the same wave, but at a higher cost due to the higher-quality components.
A cheaper inverter will produce a “modified” sine wave, which looks more like steps as the inverter cycles between positive and negative voltage.  A lot of AC-powered systems can run just fine off of this modified wave, and inverters providing that are notably cheaper.  But there are some systems – high-end electronics and motors – that are best operated with a pure sine wave.  Add that to our list of requirements (and reach deeper into the pockets).

What about wiring?  Serious boaters with serious yachts have inverters with two power inputs – one from the batteries and one from the shore power (and maybe even a generator).  Their inverter’s output is then wired into the AC side of their electrical distribution panel to power the numerous outlets spread throughout the boat.  When plugged into shore power, the inverter knows this and bypasses itself, allowing the shore current to go straight to the electrical bus.  When shore power is removed, the inverter senses this and immediately starts converting power from the batteries for uninterrupted AC power.
There are two electrical outlets in Saoirse, one in the galley and one next to the quarter berth.  They’re about nine feet away from each other.  And I have no AC systems that need to be continuously operated, meaning that I don’t need uninterrupted service when switching between shore power and battery power.  Now my list of inverter requirements does not include automatic power switching or dual inputs.  I just need a simple inverter with one input (from my battery bank) and two three-prong plugs for my AC systems (and combined with a heavy-duty extension cord where needed).

Miscellaneous.  Of course, the inverter has to be rugged and built to marine standards, with coated circuit boards, overheat/undervoltage/overvoltage/overload protection, and some method of being able to monitor volts, amps, and watts.  My reasons for not including an inverter with built-in battery charger is because if the inverter fails, it is almost certain that the battery charger has also died.  I’d rather keep the battery charger separate from the inverter, at the cost of a little more space used but with money saved.

With all of that said, I’ve been eyeing the Xantrex PROsine 1000, which rings in at about $650.  This model offers 1000W of power with 89% efficiency and a surge rating of 1500W.  There are two GFCI outlets on the front with a detachable remote monitoring system.

Simple, but not too simple.  Check back later for installation and integration with new batteries, distribution panel, and solar panel.

Well, yes, and no.

Reality has again hit me and I was unable to get a photo worth sharing this week.  I’m not 100% perfect – but close – and now I must adapt.  I have been going through old previously unpublished photos, and found some worth breathing some life into.  So that’s what I’ll be doing if I can’t snap a good one during the week.

This photo is from a pizzeria in Rome.  This pigeon thought it could get away with stealing a sliced tomato from this pizza until I stuck my camera lens in its face.  Sorry buddy, there’s plenty of tomatoes in Rome.  105mm, ISO800, f5.6, 1/250sec.

Rewriting the big list!

This “living aboard” thing has been going better than I planned…I’m surviving my first winter (albeit a mild one) and am thoroughly enjoying life on the dock.  My whole reason for ditching life “on the hard” one year before setting out on my “Big Trip” was to work on projects and get Saoirse ready just as much as getting myself ready.  But right now my checklist doesn’t have very many checks next to anything.

A few months ago I posted about how methodical I would be in completing all of these projects.  I have completed the important projects mentioned in that post, but things have been slowing down.  I’ve been finding myself distracted just by the sheer novelty of living on a sailboat, and putting aside some of the more important tasks I wanted to accomplish.

Now it’s time to kick in the discipline.  I was hoping it wouldn’t come down to this.

Back when I first started flying F-15Es, I had a system to make sure I wasn’t left behind.  It worked.  I had daily tasks to accomplish.  I had a monthly calendar with each day’s tasks spelled out, such as reading a section of the tech orders, reading one chapter in the tactics manual, reading another chapter in the instrument flying procedures, and so on.  This guaranteed that I’d stay ahead of the power curve and would always be able to focus on studying by having a topic.  Looks like I’ll have to bring that mentality to the boat!

I started by rewriting the projects I still need to accomplish.  I’ll categorize these again in the same manner that I did in October, but after living aboard for four months I’m sure some of the priorities will change.  Then I’ll put these on my calendar.  I’ll also go through various books I’ve gathered about cruising and maintenance, and give myself daily study assignments.  Sitting down to read 20 pages one day at a time sure beats having to catch up by reading 300 all at once!

And finally, I will not fall into the trap that some liveaboards experience.  The trap of “just hanging out at the dock for one more project” and never getting the sails up.  Who says I can’t work under way?

Bets on how much longer that would have lasted?

Get five sailors together to figure out a problem and you’ll get eight exclusively correct solutions.  Fighter pilots are no different.  This has helped me realize that if I am going to work on my boat myself, I need to do some research and collect all of the facts & opinions before going a certain route, and I need to be able to justify my course of action.  This was the process I faced while trying to decide how to repair my lifelines – those strands of wire designed to keep you from falling off your boat.

The old lifelines sagging through the stanchions

First of all, let’s be honest with ourselves.   If the seas are rough, lifelines are not going to keep me onboard.  I’ll be getting a harness and rigging some “jacklines” to keep me tethered to the boat.  Nevertheless, lifelines are still a requirement to have (not by law, but by common sense & insurance companies).  The lifelines on Saoirse were of the plastic-covered type and rusted to the point of certain failure.  They also had enough slack in them to almost form a loop with the wire, and the hardware couldn’t be tightened further without re-rigging.  So…time to replace the lifelines…but how?

More rust problems

I don’t like being inhibited from inspecting things.  That’s why I don’t really like plastic-covered lifelines.  A lot of bad stuff can be going on underneath the plastic but you’ll never know until it’s too late.  Oh and by the way, this plastic covering also promotes rust and corrosion.  So I went with uncoated stainless steel.  Some people said “but the plastic is so nice on your hands and it keeps your clothes from getting rust stains when you hang them over the lifelines to dry”.  Then I said “good, I’d hate to have rust stains on my clothes while I’m floating in the ocean after falling through faulty lifelines.”  As a matter of fact, the Offshore Racing Congress has banned coated lifelines for the above reasons.


Cable.  I went with 1 x 19 type 316 stainless, using 3/16″ on the lower lines and 1/4″ on the upper lines  (normal coated lifelines are 3/16″ inner diameter and the coating gives them an outer diameter of 1/4″).  This gives my upper lines a breaking strength of 6,900lbs and 4,000lbs on my lower lines, slightly stronger than the 7 x 19 cable used in most lifelines.  They can serve as emergency rigging too if I need it.

Gates.  You might be picking up a theme…I’m paranoid about safety and want as few points-of-failure as possible.  Boarding gates offer more points where the lines can fail.  My new lifelines are one continuous length from the bow pulpit to the stern pulpit.  I installed the toggles at the bow and the turnbuckles at the stern so that I can drop the lifelines with just a few twists if I need to, for easier boarding.

Hardware.  Now how to rig all of this and connect the wire to the end terminals…there were a few choices.  I won’t bore you with the details, but I ended up going with Suncor mechanical terminals.  Hand-crimping wasn’t really an option since they can’t stand up to a load, and I wanted something robust and potentially reusable if I needed to replace a wire.  And they better be reusable for the price I was paying for them ($72 for one 1/4″ turnbuckle; the 3/16″ was cheaper).  These fittings inherit the strength of the wire when installed correctly and only took a few minutes to install, without needing heavy machines or professional assistance – two things I won’t always have access to while out on my adventures.  They work on the simple principle of placing a toothed clamp around the wire, and then squeezing the clamp with the pressure of a threaded end forcing it into a conical fitting.

The quick & reversible installation process

Robust terminals! Now to just replace where it's welded to the pulpit...

Next.  Don’t hang clothes to dry on rusting exposed steel wire.  Or better yet, when it starts rusting, replace it!  Most boats use small welded loops to attach the end fittings of the lifelines to the bow & stern pulpit.  The weld point is another point of failure.  In the future, I’ll be welding a stainless steel ‘U’ around the pulpits, drilling holes in the ends of the U, and attaching the terminals through that.

New shiny & strong lifelines!

You’re looking at the bow of a sailboat reflected in the water, with the dock lines coming off the side.  The anchor is visible at top and the furling jib at the bottom.  200mm, ISO400, f/5.6, 1/10 sec.

This photo captures a myriad of elements, all subtle, none of which overpower another.  The water is calm and the fog shrouds everything in mystery.  The nostalgia and mysteriousness of the railroad trestle and swinging bridge splits the background.  The wings of the Canadian Snow Geese present a pleasing natural geometry.  To the right is their refuge, Castle Island, and to the left is the refuge of easy-going folks like myself, a sailboat.  All of this is mirrored in the white water.  This photo is available for purchase in the Coastal Carolina collection, along with some other photos captured that morning.  70mm, ISO200, f/11, 1/200 sec.

I think I can figure this thing out...

I don’t know which of the following was more difficult: buying a sewing machine, using a sewing machine, or admitting that I have/use a sewing machine.  Just wait til the guys at work hear about this.  Don’t worry, I was able to justify it.  It’s a semi-industrial sailmaking sewing machine (a Sailrite LSZ-1), weighs nearly 50 pounds, and is blue.  Blue is a man’s color.  And a recent article in Good Old Boat magazine was titled “Real sailors sew”.  It should, in theory, save me thousands of dollars over a few years.  Assuming I can get past figuring out how to thread it.


Why did I buy a sewing machine?  All because of the dodger.  The dodger is a manufactured piece of canvas with vinyl windows that stretches over a steel frame over the companionway (entrance) of a boat.  It keeps the rain out while entering/exiting and can provide some protection from the elements & spray while sailing.  The one that came with my boat had deteriorated to the point of crumbling in my hands, and I needed a new one.  I didn’t want to spend thousands of dollars to have someone make a new one for me, and I did want to get some skills to be able to make/repair things like that on my own.  After all, this is all about self-sufficiency for me and skills like this are priceless when I’m in a remote part of the world and in need of maintenance.

Assembling winch covers.

So I bought myself a sailmaking machine (how I will refer to the “sewing machine” from here on out) to make myself a dodger.  Well, that was my intention, but when I realized that I didn’t know how to sew I saved the dodger for last, after getting some practice on some other projects.  It took me a good six hours to figure out how to thread it, and then I realized I didn’t know how to start or stop a stitch…I had knots everywhere.  Fortunately, some women live on the dock and were able to enlighten me on why a sailmaking machine has a “reverse”.  How useful.  So here are the other projects, in order of construction, which somehow correlates to the quality of the finished product:


Companionway screen.  The companionway (entrance) is a big source of ventilation, but also provides a big entrance for all the mosquitos and other insects I’d rather not share my home with.  I wanted a screen to allow for some ventilation but would also serve to keep the bugs out.  I purchased some mosquito netting from Sailrite, cut it to the shape & size of my companionway, and sewed a border with fishing weights in it to keep it weighted down.  I screwed some button snaps into the wood of the companionway hatch cover, and installed some snaps on the top of the screen.  The screen can be securely fastened by the snaps at the top, but easily tossed out of the way for entry & exit.  Estimated cost: $20.

The portlight covers. The near portlight cover is open, with the grommet over the opposite hook. The next portlight is covered with the grommets over their respective hooks.

Portlight covers.  I don’t consider myself an exhibitionist but I don’t mind people watching me while I’m changing.  Does that make me an exhibitionist?  I’m just saying that it doesn’t bother me.  But it probably bothers everyone else, so I needed some window coverings for life at the dock.  I used some interior fabric with a cool coral pattern and cut them to squares slightly larger than the portlights.  I hemmed the edges, put grommets in the upper corners, and installed brass hooks above the upper corners of the portlights.  When I want them open, I put both grommets over one side, and then pull the top grommet over to the other hook when I want them closed.  Estimated cost: $19 total for ten.

The staysail bag before Christmas, which should explain the lights and the frost.

Staysail bag.  The staysail (the one in the middle, in layman’s terms) was on a metal boom and was covered in an old brown canvas bag.  I got rid of the boom because it only introduced more stuff for me to trip over and the sail performs just fine, and in my opinion is easier to handle, without it.  So I was left with the old brown bag.  The bag that I made fits over the folded sail, still attached to the stay, and closes with a zipper over the stay.  A loop at the back of the bag allows me to hang it off of the deck with the staysail halyard.  Estimated cost: $26.

The newly assembled & frosted mainsail cover.

Mainsail cover.  Like the staysail cover, the mainsail cover was an old, worn-out brown canvas cover.  I traced the pattern of the old cover onto the new burgundy fabric and made a clone of the old bag.  Estimated cost: $69.

One of four winch covers, with the velcro strap that secures them in place.

Winch covers.  I have four winches, and somehow only had three covers.  The covers were, again, brown fabric kept in place by a piece of string tied around them in a square knot.  To match the rest of the boat, I made some simple covers out of the burgundy canvas.  To keep them in place, I stitched some velcro onto the cover, and made a velcro strap to tighten around the middle of the winch.  Estimated cost: $2/ea.

The companionway cover, with the window cover open and rolled up. You can see the velcro on the lower corners of the window to secure the cover when it's rolled down. In the up position it's secured by velcro stitched onto the cover.

Companionway cover & window.  This is what I affectionately refer to as the “doggie door”, since it reminds me of those flaps installed in doors when I exit through it.  The companionway is normally secured & covered by four pieces of wood that slide down into place and act as the door.  When it’s cold or raining, I have to keep the companionway covered.  Pulling all four boards out, stowing them, and then putting them back in place a dozen times a day was starting to get to me.  I thought about manufacturing new dropboards made of just two pieces of wood (half the work to deal with them?), but this canvas idea seemed a little better.  I used the snaps that were already in place on my companionway hatch and manufactured this cover made out of burgundy canvas, also installing snaps along the sides.  On the upper half I installed a vinyl window (30-mil Strataglass).  On the inside, I made a window cover that can easily be rolled up or down.  Up it provides for a great view, lets light in, and heats up the boat in the winter.  Down it provides some good privacy.  And it still allows me to easily enter & exit the boat.  It’s also waterproof and was tested in a big storm this weekend, not letting in a single drop of water.  Estimated cost: $32, half of which was the clear vinyl.

The companionway cover from the outside, with the window cover down. The top and sides are secured by snaps.

FUTURE PROJECTS
I suppose I’ll get to that dodger next.  I just received a lot more canvas in the mail (since I used the supply for my dodger on the above projects) and I’m fairly comfortable tackling this project now.  I’ll also be making a new cover for my wheel (the existing one is that same old brown fabric).  Oh and the cushions…the cushions that I sit on and sleep on are old – I’m fairly certain as old as the boat built in 1982.  They just look like it and smell like it.  So I’ll be getting some closed-cell foam and some fabric to match the rest of Saoirse’s colors.  If I can predict the future, the dodger and the cushions will be featured in a later post.

Winch covers, mainsail cover, companionway cover, and staysail cover at the front. The frame for the doger is folded up forward against the mainsheet and will hopefully be covered by a dodger soon.

As a reference, the old mainsail & staysail covers.

They make it look so easy!

It’s a sailboat, right?  So what’s with the engine?

Yeah, I wish it was that easy.  Not having an engine would save a lot of headaches and money.  It’d create a lot more storage room.  And it’d make me a better sailor by not having my engine to rely on in tough situations.  But it’s slightly complicated…and I haven’t quite taken the plunge of engine-less sailing.

I’ve done a fair amount of work on automobile 6-cylinder gasoline engines back in my college days, but this is my first marine diesel.  My mentality for my post-Air Force days is “I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere; if there’s no wind, I’ll just hang out for a while”, where most people would fire up their engines since everyone is always in a hurry.  I’m ready to cut that umbilical.  But for now, I still need the engine for getting me through tight channels, in small docks, powering my refrigerator compressor, and charging my batteries.  I want to hang on to it for now, until I can figure out everything I need to about not having the “iron spinnaker”.  So I’ve been a little upset about its starting problems.

THE PROBLEM
My engine, a Yanmar 2GM raw-water cooled 13hp diesel, has relatively few hours for being a 30-year old engine.  These engines will last forever if properly maintained.  But in 30 years, the maintenance records have been next to nil and I have no clue when someone last took a look at it.  It’s been tough to start lately, and not knowing when the fuel filters have been replaced, I went ahead and replaced both the primary Racor filter and the secondary engine-mounted filter.  Nothing but tar came out of the drain for my primary filter, so I naturally assumed that I found the problem.  After filling up with new diesel and bleeding the air out of the system, she still wouldn’t start.  She’d cough, get a few compressions, and die.  Naturally I started assuming the worst…bad injectors, bad high-pressure pump, need a new engine…things I didn’t have the resources to fix myself.  Friend and dockmate Michael Williams suggested that I try bleeding the system again.  ”Bleeding” involves getting all of the air out of the fuel lines.  I thought I had a grasp on it…apparently not.

THE FIX
So I did it again.  I started at the secondary fuel filter and operated the fuel lift pump until only diesel came out of the bleed screw.  I tightened that.  I went to the high-pressure fuel pump inlet, loosened the nut there, and operated the lift pump again until nothing but diesel came out.  The nuts on the outlet side of the high-pressure pump were frozen, so I soaked them in Teflon and finally got those free.  I ran the starter without compression until only diesel came out of those nuts.  Finally I loosened the nut at one of the injectors and ran the starter again until only diesel came out.  After securing everything, I took a deep breath and started the motor with compression.  She started rough, rpm all over the place, lower than normal idle, but after a few seconds both cylinders kicked in and ran like normal.  Success!  So I guess the root cause was not bleeding the system completely after changing fuel filters?  Add one more nugget of knowledge to the book o’ know.

OTHER FIXES
So far I’ve had to replace the complete water pump assembly (hole in it was spewing seawater), replaced both anti-corrosion zincs, and changed the crankcase & transmission oil.  I carry spares of the cheaper parts in case I need to replace something in a pinch.  I’ll also need to clean out the exhaust mixing elbow soon (or at least inspect it) and I should be sittin’ pretty until the next unexpected disaster.  A simple diesel class is a great idea for all sailors planning on being self-sufficient, and is something I may look into in the near future.

THE RETURN
Probably the biggest reward I got out of all of this was learning new things about my engine and gaining the confidence to fix things myself.  A lot of people would hire a mechanic to take a look at their engine and fix some things that may not seem simple at first, but in reality can be done by most people.  The problem with this is that if you’re in a remote area and need to start the engine for some reason, the only mechanic available will be the little guy inside your head who accumulated the knowledge from previous repairs.

The Fowle Warehouse was built in the early-to-mid 1800s and survived a brutal Civil War battle. Washington, NC

The Fowle family arrived in Washington in 1815 and quickly established a general store and shipping industry serving the entire East Coast and West Indies.  Their specialty was timber, but they also traded agricultural items, clothing, and cotton.  Their warehouse, one of the oldest buildings in the Harbor District, was built in the early-to-mid 1800s and is a rare local example of architecture surviving from the times – most of the town was destroyed by Union troops during the Civil War.  The building now houses a law firm and overlooks the revitalized waterfront area of Washington.  And here’s a few more “window” pictures from the Harbor District.

Windows of the Fowle Warehouse, one of the oldest buildings in Washington NC.

An old mill near the Harbor District in Washington, NC

Washington's Harbor District.

The waterfront in Washington, NC.

While I was there, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take a few boat pictures.

Next week’s assignment will be “long exposures”, meaning greater than one second.  Get to lug around the tripod!