Home |
Search |
Today's Posts |
#1
![]()
posted to rec.boats.cruising
|
|||
|
|||
![]()
October 19- Travel, Interrupted
To tell you what that's about I need to back up to our time in St. Michaels. Well, actually, to the time we left Annapolis, on the 18th. As usual, the ladies aboard slept in, so we didn't begin to even prepare to leave our anchorage until nearly noon. As we were stowing the dinghy and motor, Roy and Doon, our Kiwi buddies, motored by with a handheld depth finder. They were scouting a location for their Kiwi buddies they'd found on a prior voyage to join them in the anchorage for some work on their radios. We advised that we were leaving, and the holding was tolerable, but more importantly that the depth was entirely adequate for their 7' draft. They took our place the moment we left! We'd been stuck on our anchorage for so long that upping and cleaning the anchor and rode (the chain leading to the anchor), which were well encrusted with the mud from Spa Creek's soft bottom, took quite a while. Lydia manned the buttons, and her mother, comfortably ensconced on the seat in front of the furled genoa (the large sail wound up on the front of the boat), manned the hose nozzle. However, it came up, and was cleaned, and I looked at my watch. 4 minutes to the 1:30 bridge. If I floor it, we can make it. However, noises of alarm and "STOP!" came from the bow. "UP" didn't mean "Stowed" - the anchor was still dangling by 5' of chain, even though it was "up" from the bottom. That's not a good place (under water, hanging from the chain) for the anchor to be when under way, so we stopped and finished the proper stowing sequence. That didn't take very long, so we had plenty of time to get to the next opening, and, after wandering around so as to not run into the bridge before it was opened, we did, in fact, transit the bridge at 2PM. Weather looked to be favorable to sail down to St. Michaels, but first we had to clear the very narrow and congested channel leading from the Severn River. We did that in short order, and prepared to hoist sails. But wait! An engine alarm! Shut it down, and go below to see if we can decipher what's happening. Inspection of the engine yields no immediate clues. Using my digital infrared thermometer suggests that all is well with the engine thermostatically, as, all the possible trouble points I measured showed the expected healthy-temperature readings. Oil pressure is fine every time we again fire it up to see if it was just an anomaly, so it's not oil-pressure related, but the alarm persists. All the water-moving fan belts (though there's no fan on this engine cooling system, the naming habit remains) look fine. On the possibility that it really is overheating (despite my infrared results) as a result of not getting water, I close the seacock (the thing that prevents water from getting in when you don't want it) to the primary filter, and open the filter top. Nothing seen in the filter itself, but I wash it anyway, as there's silt from the anchorage coating the screen. When I open the seacock, the water falls away with no apparent blockage. I closed the seacock again, and refilled the filter housing and repeated. Same result. That suggests it is able to get water. So, I again closed it, filled the housing, and poured water in as the engine ran, easily taking it. So, the pump is pulling water from the housing, if not from the sea. In the end, we still don't know why the engine alarm occurred, and it still goes on after this test, but, perhaps, it was a plastic bag momentarily blocking the intake, causing an overheat, because, eventually, it did cease alarming and the temp guage (continued to!) read normal. In the course of my searching, and back-and-forth to the seawater tap in the galley sink (to refill the filter housing, not to waste the fresh water we had to pay for on fillup, our first experience, anywhere, of having to pay for water), I noticed that the temperatures on both the freezer and refrigerator were way higher than normal. What's that about??? Another foray into the engine room reveals that the controller for the refrigeration is defunct. I, after some meandering around all the possibilities, presume we have a wiring problem with either the controller or the power to the compressor, as we're getting power to the thermostats and the fans and lights related to those circuits. However, it's more than warm in the engine room, and I don't want to have to address the presumed wiring problem until it cools down. So, I turn off the refrigeration, making the temperatures stable. Without doing that, all the (relatively) warm air in the refrigerator will wind up in the freezer. That's because we have what's known as a spillover system, in which the refrigerator is cooled from the freezer (actually, the way household refrigerator units work as well). That means the fan will keep trying to cool the refrigerator, but the freezer, not running, can't dispose of the heat. Keeping the freezer cold is more of a critical event than the 44 degrees in the refrigerator. The freezer is still just slightly below freezing, and the squid and Bonita (bait for fishing, of which we've done none since leaving the Gulf Stream!) in the bottom will survive the experience if we just keep it that way. While I'm doing that, another try shows that the engine alarm has finished it's exercise, and all appears well with the engine. Skipping ahead a bit, by the time we anchor, having run the engine room exhaust fan as we motored and sailed for the remaining couple of hours of daylight, apparently a (presumed) overheat relay in the refrigeration relaxed, and our refrigeration again worked without any intervention on my part. So, I turned it on again, and removed the magnet which controls the lights and fan in the refrigerator. That will allow the freezer to get down to its normal temperatures before sucking in heat from the refrigerator. All that happens in due course, and two mornings later, the freezer's at 7.7 and the refrigerator is at 34.3 - all is well, again. So, back to our journey. During all this, we've been in the middle of a wide, deep area, so we just drift. No hazards to navigation, several sailboats gaily blow by us, waving enthusiastically as if to say, "Ha, Ha! We're sailing, and you're not! Neener, neener!" We grit our teeth and grin and wave back. With all that excitement, we don't stand a chance of getting to St. Michaels before dark. So, what to do? We really don't know what's up with the engine, but it appears ok. Do we sail back to Annapolis in order to be closer to help and gear should we need it? Or, do we continue onward and hope for the best? In the end, we choose to proceed. We sail as far as we can, and, with dark approaching, choose the best possible depth, with no shelter whatsoever, but certainly adequate holding. None the less, we're in an area described in the various guidebooks as one having no anchorages. Certainly, that's true, as there's nothing but straight shoreline on the western side of Kent Island, our home for the night. The boat rocks and rolls and pitches and heaves in the brisk wind and moderate surf/waves, but we're warm and comfy below, and enjoy a reasonable sleep aboard. The good news is that, while none "spoke to us" last night, shoreside mansions and farms even have a wifi connection available the following morning as our position changes slightly, improving the antenna's reach. I catch up on the emails, and send off for some information from some of our vendors, presuming our circumstance to have been a momentary clog, and, eventually, the ladies emerge from their coccoons. We get under way before noon and head to St. Michaels. Whatta day. Whatta boat! The apparent wind was such that we pinched nearly all the way there, but it was a great, relaxing sail under brilliant skies, and we arrived in St. Michaels well before dark. The guidebook descriptions indicated that we should take the left bifurcation to an anchorage in preference to the right side. However, going down that trail led us only to a dead end of docks on both sides. In tight quarters, Lydia pirouetted Flying Pig and we headed back out. A call to the local marina disclosed that the anchorages in question were actually right at the beginning of the entrance of the channel, so we headed into one with several sailboats and a large trawler. Our first attempt at hooking didn't work so we went out closer to the channel, well stuck, and settled in. A bit of a delay, but not much in the scheme of things, and we're here, in totally protected waters. Stay tuned to see what else develops! L8R Skip Morgan 461 #2 SV Flying Pig KI4MPC See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery ! Follow us at http://groups.google.com/group/flyingpiglog and/or http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheFlyingPigLog "You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it come true. You may have to work for it however." (and) "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts." (Richard Bach, in The Reluctant Messiah) |
Reply |
Thread Tools | Search this Thread |
Display Modes | |
|
|
![]() |
||||
Thread | Forum | |||
Travel aid | UK Power Boats | |||
Travel aid | UK Paddle | |||
Travel aid | Power Boat Racing | |||
Travel aid | Cruising | |||
Travel time from Va | General |