South Florida - Headache to Heartache
June 7
The Lighthouse Point Yacht Club owner and dock manager were kind enough to give me refuge after my tow from the Bahamas; it is not common to accept a disabled boat. They knew my goal was a short visit while the mechanic sorted out WW’s engine. I arrived Sunday and booked in for a week to allow for the mechanic’s time, a fuel tank drain and clean appointment - remember the water in the fuel issue, and the time needed to resolve my Theodore issue. The yacht club was a great place hold up. It had a nice pool, bar and restaurant, interesting characters to engage including kids to fish with, and it was a short bike ride to several supply stores. Toni and Gary were very supportive around the marina.
My time-sensitive need was Theodore. I didn’t know how bad the seals were yet, so I found an inflatable boat repair shop that wanted the boat on Monday to have any repairs completed by Friday. That required renting a truck (thankfully Enterprise picks you up) and getting the boat cleaning crew working the club to help me load the dinghy. I arrived to the Inflatable Boat Pro shop late in the day where I met Bruno. He had been in the inflatable boat business forever, and after lectures about PVC and Hypalon, boats built in China – a scourge, sealants and glue, davit systems, and a short history of his life in Italy, the reality of my Theodore situation landed with a thud. While Bruno could, of course, repair the failing seals and re-glue the davit clamps (how the dinghy attaches and rides on WW), the poor state of the boat’s tubes and seals along with a persistent future of sun and sea exposure wouldn’t overcome the unpredictable but certainty the seals and tubes would fail again. With a heavy sigh I asked the cost of those repairs: “Well Allen, you might want to buy a new boat…”. As a cautious consumer with my repair-before-toss philosophy – my upbringing in the ‘projects’ and on the farm plus a collective need to overcome our tossing culture - I was wary but agreed to look at the new boats. Bruno was regaling the advantages of an expensive Hypalon boat when Jeff intervened and clarified that ‘cheap’ PVC will work effectively for a boat heading north to cold Canada. With a heavy heart, I left Theodore in Fort Lauderdale, but with Theodore II soon to join the expedition team.
The drive back to the boat was interrupted by a West Marine, a.k.a., the boater’s candy store. I stopped and loaded up on various bits and bobs from my three lists. On Boat List #1 was a new anchor windlass – the motor that controls the anchor and rode (the combined chain and rope – on WW the rode is 60’ of chain connected to 200’ of rope). Back on Chub Cay, the anchor chain jammed on retrieval which caused a motor failure. Anchoring without a windlass while travelling solo is a challenge I don’t need. The supplier’s online technical support was quite helpful, but we concluded that the entire unit would have to be replaced and one was shipped to the yacht club in time for my arrival. Also on the list was a replacement of the main fridge’s thermostat, also shipped to the boat. I have come to accept that everything on a boat is destined to be replaced at least once.
The fuel tank cleaners were busy in this land of boats. They arrived mid-week, opened the fuel tank, there was no water, and the fuel was mostly from WW’s Miami fill-up (marine diesel in the USA is dyed red for some tax reason). One hypothesis for the original water-in-fuel issue that started the engine woes was bad fuel in Bimini; purchased fuel sources and storage are always on your mind in remote locations. WW’s fuel and tank looked good. This was a win although it added to the mystery of the original engine failure.
I was eagerly awaiting the mechanic still anticipating the silent engine issue was caused by the engine computer. Mike from JAS Marine arrived and we went over the events and actions taken. He plugged in his Volvo diagnostic computer and called up the engine’s transcript of events. The water-in-fuel alarms were there but nothing else that might explain the engine shut down. The next step was to turn-over the engine. And that is when we heard a marine engineer’s nightmare sound of grinding metal parts. It was the sound of saltwater rusting the vulnerable internal engine parts and a noise I won’t soon forget. Mike began to remove the exhaust hose at the turbocharger, the highest point for water’s transit in WW’s engine cooling and exhaust systems, and I almost cried as the hose wept water because it was full.
There are some twists and turns with the engine story for another day, but here is the short version. During the tow and possibly the rough water at anchor off Chub Cay, sea water had entered WW’s exhaust line, filled the exhaust system, and then back flooded into the engine. Also complicit was the possibility that water entered the intake for seawater that feeds the engine’s cooling system (via an open seacock) and filled that system which eventually discharges to the muffler. Without the engine running, all water accumulating in the wet muffler system can’t be exhausted to the outside. Scouring the internet produced reports of similar water ingression for this boat make and design. I was rather frustrated to learn that WW’s exhaust system was not designed for heavy seas with the engine running or not. As one specialist explained after seeing pictures and measurements, “Allen…Totally doomed to failure…It’s not IF, it’s when…You obviously found that [out]”.
My worse nightmare for the engine had come true. It was going to be a full rebuild with cylinder sleeves or a new engine block and a collection of new parts, and expensive. Mike’s parts manager found a new block, surprisingly, and shop manager Jason explained the timelines to complete the full job. I took another night and day to review my situation. I had to decide if this major set-back was a sign that it was time to call off the expedition or to complete the fix and carry-on with the hope I could make it home before the snow flies.
The situation was depressing. I discussed options with my support teams, checked the budget, and mapped out delayed schedule scenarios. With some linger apprehension, I made the call to carry-on. I gave Mike my approval for the new block option, and booked a dry-dock for WW at Cable Marine West in Fort Lauderdale which required one more tow down the ICW. The duration of the repairs remained uncertain, but it would be measured in weeks.
Last year I accepted a nomination to deliver the Canadian Society of Zoologists, Zoological Education Trust lecture for 2024. I was already heading to Moncton, NB for this meeting to show case the expedition (you can watch it here), so I travelled home to wait out the WW make-over. There wasn’t anything for me to do on the boat until the repairs were complete. When that time came, I would return to Fort Lauderdale for the engine’s reinstall and to conduct the sea trials. It’s been good to catch up on writing and work at the university, but it won’t surprise you to hear I’m a bit stir crazy being land locked.
I could bore many of you with the detailed, grizzly mechanical story, instead you can message me to learn more if such things float your boat. As I write this, a schedule has been set for my return south, which also means I’ll be boat busy and my writing schedule will slow down again.
Here’s hoping you are reading this while I’m boating north on the ICW.
Allen
Fort Lauderdale / Home
