Boatyard Blues



Well, I can't say that I've been in a boatyard entirely since the last time I wrote, but I am getting used to peeing in a bucket at night and climbing a tall ladder to get home.  As luck would have it though, IRIE had a major malfunction recently, so here we are.  Actually, I don't think that luck had any part of it.......



Coast Guard Island with San Francisco as background

Back in July, Jim Carmer of s/v Hajime showed me the way around Alameda Island into the estuary between Alameda and Oakland where we landed at the dock of Svendsen's Marine Metal Shop.  We were there because IRIE needed someone to build her a rather serious metal bracket that would mount on her engine to support the pump for her new watermaker.  The machine shop manager Chris, seemed to take a special interest in us and not only produced the perfect mount, he led me to the best of whatever I needed while we were there.  What a joy when you're in an unfamiliar place and you meet someone who knows how to find all the good stuff.  Which reminds me, if any of you are planning a trip to see us here in Alameda, you should try to be here on a Thursday.




Another view from the Machine Shop dock


OK, so back to the story about the boatyard.  Thursday morning, the 28th, the pump was mounted, and Jim was here for the ride back to our marina.  (I would get home for the weekend as planned)  It was sunny already at 10:00 AM, and we were looking forward to getting at least the jib sail flying today.  Oh Boy!  The diesel was running smooth and strong.  The lines had been cast off, and the way was clear, but IRIE would not move.  Reverse, no movement.  Forward, we're still here!?!?  Back and forth, over and over.  What's up?  Oh, it's a low low tide today.  Are we stuck in the mud?  Jim leaped onto the dock and gave us a push.  And all 30,000 pounds floated ahead.  Not stuck in the mud.  Hmmm.

So I watched the gearbox shift as Jim worked the control.  Even saw the coupling spin in the correct direction each time.  Still, we were going nowhere.  It was time to talk with Chris.  The boat was acting as though it had no prop.  Who was the diver to call? 

One of the sweet ones

We called Fred, and Jim and I went to lunch to wait for the verdict.  It didn't take long before my phone rang.  "Your prop seems fine, but I can move it and the shaft in and out about an inch"  Whoa!

Back to the boat for another look, and sure enough, the prop shaft had worked it's way loose from the engine coupling that drives it.  It seems that this might have happened because the engine and the prop shaft weren't properly aligned back when the new engine was installed in 2005. 

Now, in the last 600+ hours of motoring this boat, where else could this have reared it's ugly head?  Use your imagination here.  It's pitch black dark, the wind is howling and you're miles from anywhere.  Or, you're very carefully navigating a tricky passage through reefs with big coral heads that want to eat your boat.  Or, you're maneuvering close quarters through a long channel into a marina with $$$$ boats all around.  Everyone knows that these things happen to you at the absolute worst, most inconvenient, scariest, and inopportune times, so, chances are you didn't pick boatyard.  Yet, here we were, tied to the boatyard dock.

I happen to like boatyards.  Yes, they're noisy and smelly and dusty;  full of a myriad of cancer causing agents of mass destruction.  Still, you can't reasonably make a repair such as we need anywhere else.  And good boatyards like this one are full of boats.  Some so sweet to look at, and others in various stages of repair (or disrepair).  Lots of eye candy for a boat lover.  And the people are really special.  The owners that you find here are the ones who actually use their boats.  And the workers are mostly happy and friendly and have a wealth of useful knowledge.  On the other hand, there's a part of boatyards that I truly despise.  Put briefly, they're the only places I know of where you get to pay $107 per hour for Mexican labor.

Truly, I have nothing against Mexicans as you know.  In fact, whoever works on your boat, the rate is the same.  But I still have never seen a single one who showed up for work in their Superman outfit.

So, while all of us are here for a reason, and we're happy to have this place to come to, we are also struggling to get out of here as quickly as possible.  In our case, a new prop shaft is being fashioned as I write this (Aug 10).  Hopefully, we get put back together and lined up yet this week.  Then Monday she gets a new coat of bottom paint so we can splash on Tuesday.  Keep your fingers crossed OK?  I really need to get out of here.      E