New Sunroom

After building the hardtop for the boat, one of the next items needed was a replacement dodger.  For those that don't own a boat, the dodger is essentially the front windshield for a boat.  It isn't strictly necessary as, unlike a car, you aren't cruising along at speeds fast enough that something flying in from the front isn't likely to cause injury...but anyone that has spent much time at the helm of a boat on a less than perfect day may disagree.  When we completed the hardtop in Virginia it was around Christmas and we were in a hurry to head to warmer locations.  At the time I jury rigged the old dodger so we would have at least minimal protection.

The jury-rigged temporary dodger.

During that cold and rainy trip south, it became very apparent that just a simple dodger up front wasn't really sufficient to protect someone at the helm from bad weather.  The cold rain always seemed to be blowing in from the starboard side and that made manning the helm a miserable experience.  So, back before this virus when I was looking at heading to the Bahamas in February, a better dodger and side protection...at least for the starboard side...was very high on the upgrade list.

Having an enclosure made was not going to be an option as that would be too costly for something just to improve comfort for the upcoming trip (small sailboat enclosures usually cost more than $4000 and I'm sure mine would be much higher due to the size).  A while back we purchased a Sailrite sewing machine and part of the justification of that purchase was to tackle projects like this.  My goal was to create a cost effective and serviceable solution that could be used when needed and taken down most of the time. Just like the hardtop, this would be my first time attempting to create something new for the boat, so higher end materials were less of a concern.  If I really screwed things up, at least I wouldn't feel as bad about it if the materials didn't cost a fortune.

First thing was to come up with a design. At first blush, it seems like a fairly straight forward process...create some fabric and clear vinyl panels that would enclose the front and at least part of the sides of the cockpit.  Of course, the devil is in the details.  I wanted to utilize the existing lower mount for the old dodger and then there was what to do about the sheet winches that are right in the middle of where enclosure panels would normally go.  Ideally, having all the winches inside the enclosure so you can stay dry while adjusting sails would be good, but in the end I could not figure out a way to make that happen.  In the end I came up with a design for a front panel and two smaller side panels that would wrap around behind the winches so that one could at least operate the winches with the panels in place.  I also planned for partial panels along the sides so the helm would be protected.

From there I came up with an estimate of how much clear vinyl and material was needed for the project.  5 yards of vinyl and 4 yards of material looked like it would be enough.  Checking online, I was able to find a supposedly marine grade vinyl for about $85.  Sunbrella, on the other hand was about $25 to $35 per yard.  I decided to check a discount fabric store in nearby Wilmington and found they had a roll of Sunbrella in an off-white color that just about perfectly matched my gel-coat for $17 at yard.  Another $100 worth of zippers, snaps, thread, pattern material, and other sewing notions from Sailrite as well as reusing a few zippers from the old dodger and it looks like I could make an enclosure for around $300.  On that trip from Virginia, I'm sure my wife and I would have gladly paid $300 for the added comfort of a dry helm out of the wind.

Creating the dodger pattern.

After watching and re-watching several of the how-to videos from Sailrite, I began the process of creating patterns for the front dodger. Of course, creating patterns by myself, outside, in the wind was a bit of a challenge. Trying to get the plastic stretched tight and marked before the wind would come along and blow it all down took several tries and in the end was not perfect...but good enough. Creating the dodger in the salon, when the dodger spans the distance across the salon and galley was an interesting task.  I cut the Sunbrella material into the numerous strips I needed using a straight edge and wood burning tool. Fortunately some of the tricks I picked up from the how-to videos as well as judicious use of the Sailrite seam-stick basting tape for canvas helped a great deal with the assembly and sewing tasks.  After a lot of sewing, I had a new dodger that took advantage of the extra viewing area afforded by the new hardtop.

Cutting long strips of Sunbrella

Next came the two small panels that ran behind the winches.  It was a pretty straight forward process to pattern and create those small panels out of the Sunbrella material.  These panels extend past where the existing mounting hardware was, so I had to add snaps to hold the bottom of the panels.  While on the Sailrite site I found that they had a new type of snap called a Snad that utilizes 3M VHB tape so I wouldn't have to drill holes in the hull for conventional snaps. The only downside to the VHB based solution that I've found thus far is that it takes up to 72 hours for the snaps to fully bond to the surface.

Sewing the dodger.

After getting the winch panels done, I realized I actually had enough material to make full side panels for the cockpit instead of the half-width panels that I originally planned to make.  I was having a difficult time determining how to best secure the half panels, so this solved that problem...but created another.  Snaps were less likely to hold such a large panel in place in the wind so I had to come up with another solution to attach the panel to the arch.  While trying to figure out the best way to attach the panels, I went ahead and created the panels.  When I made the hardtop, I included a design element that would hopefully aid in the installation of a full enclosure.  The bottom of the "handrail" edge around the hardtop can be slit at the bottom creating an awning track.  This track would then allow for installation of enclosure panels using a pre-manufactured bolt rope that slides into the slot. The solution for holding the panel to the arch is essentially the same solution.  I took the old awning track that came off of the arch when I installed the hardtop, cut it in half, and attached the segments to the arch.  One more zipper per panel and more of the bolt rope, and viola, the panel is attached.  The boat now has a 3/4 enclosure, with the back left open.

The end result isn't perfect, but it is functional and doesn't look too bad.  The vinyl isn't as optically clear as the expensive stuff (it has minor distortions that I think are due to the manufacturing process) but it is good enough and well worth the trade-off for keeping warm and dry. If I keep up with the maintenance of the vinyl (regular polish and UV protectant...same as is recommended for the much more expensive vinyl products), I have confidence that they will last a long time and will be a nice addition to the boat.

Designs

The last few days I've been going back and forth on several design options for my hard top bimini replacement. I didn't realize that there would be this many decisions to be made for such a simple sounding project.  It's not rocket science, just a mostly flat fiberglass panel.

I've been in touch with a couple of friends who have Leopard 38's with hard tops to get pictures and design ideas.  One had a tubular aluminum frame, and plastic panels were laid on top to create the bimini.  The other was a molded fiberglass top that only utilized metal for a few struts at the front of top to hold it above the cabin roof (it may actually be one of the $15K tops built in Florida).  They are both nice tops and served their purpose, but the decision on which direction to go was an easy one there.  I'm no welder, so the more I can do out of fiberglass the better.  I guess I'm no expert at fiberglass either, but at least I've done small fiberglass projects with some success.

The next part of the design was how I wanted the top to cover the cockpit.  The soft top comes straight forward from the arch and then curves down as it gets to the helm, and I don't particularly like that.  All of the winches, except for the dinghy/traveler one, are also out in the weather, and it would be nice to have access to them from a dry location while sailing in rainy weather. So it made sense to try to create a 3-D model of the cockpit and see how various top configurations might look.

The top with an example 230 watt solar panel 

I downloaded a program called SketchUp and began working on creating a model of our cockpit. I wasn't looking for a detailed replica of our cockpit, just a rough approximation except for a few critical areas like the dimension and curve of the arch and cabin top as well as the location of the two sheet winches.  It took me a while to fight with learn to use the program but I finally gave up got the model close enough to be useful. Angled and curved surfaces were a pain to model.

I tried a variety of different ideas.  Should I embed the solar panels into the top thereby reducing the amount of materials I may need and allowing for better cooling of the panels?  Do I want to integrate a water collection system into the top? How far can I extend the top and brace it while allowing sufficient clearance for the winch handles? Can I integrate wiring chases into the design for the solar and cockpit lighting?  Can I integrate storage into the top?

The side profile of the top...I think it looks decent.

So far, I've decided that the best approach I can take is one of relative simplicity.  I'm adapting simple designs that I know have worked for other people, adjusting only to simplify the build and as needed to fit the boat.  I've had a difficult time finding solid engineering data so I'm leaning on the existing working designs as well as the advice of a couple of aerospace engineers I've met here at the marina (yep, I did in fact ask a couple of rocket scientists). The pictures you see in this post are what I have come up with.

An underside view of the top.  A couple minor drawing glitches.

The plan is that most of the top will consist of a foam cored fiberglass panel.  I'll use either 3/4" or 1" foam that will then have two layers of 12 oz biaxial cloth glassed on each side.  I may add a third layer to the bottom side for added rigidity as a deck surface.  The best information I have indicates the panel alone should be more than enough to support the weight of people and gear.

The handhold edge, bolt rope and rear tab detail.

U shaped channels will be created that run from front to back on the underside of the top to provide for wire chases as well as add a little additional rigidity across the length of the structure.  At the front and around the window cutout at the helm seat, a foam doubler may be added for additional rigidity in those areas,  Around the edges I'll create a rounded surface to act as a hand hold and to provide a bolt rope slot for attaching fabric dodgers.  The rear tab for mounting the top to the arch will be solid fiberglass around all mounting locations. In all locations where there will be penetrations, holes will be over-drilled and filled to seal the core.

So, what do you think?  I know some of you out there have some experience with fiberglass...so what have I missed?  I think I'm going cross-eyed staring at this drawing on the computer screen.

And We're Off

For the first time since we bought the boat over a year ago, our entire household is on the boat. The house back in Colorado has sold and just about everything we own is floating in Hammock Beach. Or, it was anyway...

We have been rushing up against our insurance deadline to be north of Cape Hatteras by June 1 so we needed to start our move north.  Given the tight time frame, we can't really just meander up the coast as we would have liked, but instead need to make it a quicker trip.  The plan was to take the ICW up to St. Augustine, the next inlet, and then sail on the outside up to Southport NC.  The weather forecasts looked like it was going to cooperate for the trip, so on Sunday afternoon we departed.

The trip up the ICW went fast as we were riding the current out.  We left just after 3pm and made the 6pm opening of the Bridge of Lions in St. Augustine.  While waiting for the bridge, a Gemini catamaran pulled up behind us, and it was no other than my friend (and former broker) Pete.  He was moving a newer Gemini Legacy to another local marina after it had been at a local boat show (as I've said before, maybe the hardest working man in the boating industry).  It was a nice surprise to see him as we were heading out.  He even managed to snap a few pictures of us.

Waiting on the Bridge of Lions...or pirates.

Pete following us through the bridge.

After making our way out of the inlet, we found the ocean was a little more active than forecast.  Instead of the 2 foot seas on an 8 second period and 15 knots of wind, we were greeted with 3 foot seas on about a 4 second period with winds of 23~26 knots. The one plus was that both the waves and the winds were from the south to southeast so it would feel more comfortable going northeast than any southerly direction. Not the ideal conditions for introducing my wife to a night passage, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do.

Unfortunately she did get a bit seasick that first night.  After taking some Bonine she started feeling better.  Over the course of the night the winds and waves did finally calm down. By 5am the seas were around 1 foot on a 6 second period and she was feeling good.

For my non-sailing readers...or those not familiar with the above numbers, the quick rule of thumb on sea state is that it is usually pretty comfortable when the wave height in feet is one-half (or less) the wave period in seconds.  As the ratio approaches 1:1, things start feeling pretty rough.  So, in general you would rather be sailing in 4 foot seas on a 12 second period than in 3 foot seas on a 3 second period.  Hope that makes a little sense.

Another sunrise on the Atlantic

That first morning we were also visited by our first pair of dolphins.  They were having fun playing in the pressure wave at the front of the boat.  Later on in the trip we were visited two more times by dolphins that came to play.  Of course, I think I run across photo-averse dolphins since each time I decide to go get a camera, they generally disappear.  Oh well, it is nice to see them and superstition claims their visits bring good luck...and we could certainly use that.

Along with the gentler seas the second day came more fickle winds, so we ended up doing a a combination of sailing and motor-sailing most of the day.  Winds cycling between 3 and 8 knots during the day.  By that evening the fickle winds had allowed the seas to calm to 1 foot on a 9 second period.  A good time for the wind to pick up a bit so we could sail...and it did.  Maybe it was the luck of the dolphins, but regardless of the reason I'll take it.  We were able to sail through the night on 8 to 14 knot winds, and by our second morning we were abeam Charleston, SC.

There is an interesting phenomenon that occurs when sailing at night.  During the day, you can look in all directions and see nothing but the ocean for the entire day.  Once night falls, it seems that all the big cargo ships appear as if out of nowhere.  Maybe it has just been the timing of my passages that I seem to go by all the traffic lanes in and out of the major port cities during the night, but both my wife and I have noted that these large ships appear like The Flying Dutchman in the movies. In any case, trying to decipher the navigation lights from the myriad of deck lighting on these large ships can keep you entertained at night.

A rare daytime cargo ship sighting.

Well, there are things that need to get done today, so I will have to save the rest of the story for next time.  Until tomorrow...

Grumpy Engine

I noticed on my trip down to Brunswick that my starboard engine was having some difficulty waking up in the morning. It would take an unusually long time to get it to start. Once it fired, it would seem to run fine and subsequent starts during the same day would be just fine, but that first start of the morning usually took 3 or more attempts to bring it to life. So, the past several weeks I've been looking into the issue as time permits.

The Westerbeke 42b Four Motor

My boat came with two 42 horsepower Westerbeke (or as my friends at the Retirement Project call them, Wester-Beast) motors. They have around 5000 hours on them, so I don't expect them to to be the youthful engines they once were, but the starboard engine should start easier than it does.

Diesel engines are relatively simple systems. When running, they have one less ingredient than their gasoline combustion engine counterparts. The engine compresses air in the combustion chamber. Then, when fuel is injected into the cylinder containing the compressed air, it spontaneously combusts producing power. No separate ignition system (spark) is required. Just fuel, air, and pressure. The closest thing to an ignition system a diesel engine has are a set of glow plugs. These are used to help warm up the cylinders to aid in cold engine starts. So, presuming that there is nothing screwed up in the timing of events (once it starts it does run just fine), the only real issues should be in the supply of air and fuel to the engine.

Combustion graphic from the University of Toronto

One time when I was trying to get it to start I noticed no signs of combustion. I would crank the engine, but no smoke or anything from the exhaust. I stepped away to think about it (ok, to curse at the engine), then came back and tried once again.  It fired up just like a new engine as if there was no problem at all. This got me thinking that I might have a fuel leak and air was getting trapped in the fuel line. Once the air was purged, the engine would fire.

So, I crawled into the engine compartment and looked for leaks. Sure enough, I found one very small fuel weep at a fuel line return fitting. Could this be causing air to be trapped in the fuel line? I tightened up the fitting and tried starting the engine again. This time the engine would not start at all. By sealing the leak, I trapped air in the line and it could no longer bleed out of the leak. I went back down, loosened the fitting again, and got the engine to start. I then re-tightened the fitting to stop the leak.

Feeling pretty good that I might have resolved the issue, I let the engine sit for a couple days to see if the problem was gone. Unfortunately, when I next tried starting the engine, the problem still existed. It might have been a bit easier than before, but if so it was not by much. Since then I've replaced the fuel filters and verified the fuel pump was working, but I am running out of things to try.

Guess I'm starting to see why they call it a Wester-Beast.

I Almost Have A New Window

Yep, another window post. This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would.  I know others that have said they have rebed windows in just a day or two.  I don't know if new windows make much of a difference, but I'm guessing it is because I'm going slow.  Guess I really want to get this right because I certainly don't want to do it over.

After breakfast this morning, I go to check out my blackout paint work from yesterday.  What I found was that the paint was a little thin in spots. Guess I'm not the best at painting with thinned sealant.  So, I thin a little more of the Dow 795 sealant and apply another coat in hope that it will dry quickly so I can install the window in the afternoon.  After it skins over a bit, I removed the tape that was protecting the mounting edges of the window.

While the window dries, I start preparing the opening.  I removed the plastic that had been protecting the opening during the recent cold and wet weather and applied masking tape and paper around the opening.  Then I vacuumed up the last bits of the old sealant that had somehow been hiding in the opening since I originally cleaned it.  Following that, I clean the mounting surfaces with some denatured alcohol.

The next step was to apply the foam tape that acts as a spacer and creates a dam for the sealant.  When I was reading about this process, most seemed to indicate that the old foam could be left in place and reused.  Unfortunately, it seems they assembled the windows on my boat differently than others as they had applied the foam to the window and not the opening.  When I tried to remove the foam from the window, it pulled apart.  Apparently I finally found one glue on the boat that held well...the backing tape for that foam.

Window masked and foam strips installed.

I had purchased 3 - 10 foot rolls of 3/8" by 1/2" closed cell foam insulation tape at the local big-box hardware store to replace the original foam.  I applied one ring of the foam around the inside window opening and that took one of the rolls.  I then applied another ring to act as the sealant dam that was roughly between 5/8" and 3/4" from the outside edge of the window (I measured the distance from the inside edge of the blackout to the edge of the window to determine spacing).  In the forward corner there is a large space between the inner and outer rings of foam so I added some additional foam strips, similar to what was originally there.  Unfortunately the tape on this foam wasn't as good as the original and I had to use some contact cement to re-glue a couple of the corners down.  In the end it took about 25 foot of the tape for the one window opening.

I spent as much time as I could to allow the blackout to dry, but it was time to dry fit the window.  I needed to check window spacing in the opening and drill small holes that will be used to clamp the window in place while the sealant cures.  I had purchased a small 3/8" thick pine trim board and cut it into a few blocks to use as spacers and wrapped them in plastic (actually cellophane tape) so hopefully the sealant won't stick.  Using the blocks, I set the window in place and adjust the window position and blocks to get a uniform gap around the windows.  Marking the position of the block on the masking tape around the opening and on the protective paper on the window was done to aid in reassembly.  I noticed that the window will be a little recessed and I like the effect.  If I had wanted the window to be flush with the mounting surface, I would need foam that is thicker than 3/8".

Since the new acrylic is flat and the opening has a slight curve, it will need to be clamped in place.  To do this, I used some large fender washers and 1.5" drywall screws.  I held the window in place at the center and probed for points where I would need to clamp to get the window to conform to the curve. I pushed on the window in with one finger  and when I located a good spot, I drilled a pilot hole for the screw.  After marking the location of the hole on the masking tape, a fender washer and screw were used to gently clamp down the window.  I repeated this process until I was happy with the fit and look of the window.  Then I disassembled it all in preparation for applying the sealant.

I have to admit I wasn't looking forward to applying all this sealant with a manual caulk gun, but I don't really have another option here at the marina.  At least I did buy a good quality caulk gun for the job.  Since it was not a particularly warm day but the sun was shining, I had put one case of the sealant in my dark car to warm it up in hope it would help it flow better and maybe prevent my hand from cramping up.

After retrieving the somewhat warmer case of caulk from the car, I take a tube and cut the tip to allow for the largest bead possible.  Going around the outside of the outer band of foam, I apply a large bead of the 795 sealant making sure it stands above the height of the foam.  It took two tubes to run the bead around the foam.  I place the spacer blocks back in the marked locations and then line up the window with the blocks and press it into the sealant.  Using the marks I made for the screw locations, I install the clamping screws until the window pressed against the foam but was not compressing it...as best I could tell.

I expected more sealant to squeeze out of the joint than actually happened, so I got a bit suspicious.  I carefully peeled back a little of the protective paper from the outside of the window and my suspicion was confirmed.  While there was a pretty decent seal, there were some bubbles and voids so I ended up pumping more sealant into the joint and worked it under the window with a putty knife. This took almost another full tube of sealant, but everything appears to be full of sealant now.  Next time I think I'll run two thick beads of sealant around the window to avoid this messy step.

Window installed and clamped with the curing sealant.

So, now I need to wait several days (I'm thinking 4 or 5) to allow the sealant to cure enough to hold the window in place without the clamps.  Once the clamps are removed, I can apply more sealant and created the finished edge bead of the window.  In the meantime, I have another window to work on as well as finishing up the anchor roller mount repair.

Oh, I've Been Working on the Windows...

...all the live-long day.  As I mentioned in my last post, my replacement acrylic windows arrived yesterday.  Also mentioned was the fact that the quality of the cutting done by Lee and Cates Glass was sub-par.  They apparently used a jig saw to cut the shape and the jig saw operator apparently wasn't the best at following the lines. The shop then took a belt sander to the edges to clean up the saw marks.  The sander used apparently had about a 40 or 60 grit paper on it, and the result of the sanding was a very rough finish with a random depth chamfer on the edges.  A really poor edge finish that would be OK if there was a trim piece to cover it, but not at all suitable for a Leopard (the windows are only held in by a bead of sealant).

What passes as a finished edge at Lee and Cates Glass

So, the first thing I had to do today was to clean up the mess left by the glass company.  If the windows had been cut a bit oversize, I could have used a router to trim down the edges and get a good result...but that wasn't the case.  So, I decided I would try sanding the edges to straighten them out.  After some sanding with 120 grit, I realized how un-straight the cuts were and decided I would do my best to give it the illusion of straight.  When I got the worst of the waviness out, I hand sanded the remaining chamfer to even it up.  I then switched to a 320 grit paper to try and clean up and slightly round the chamfer.  Four hours later the end result on the two windows, while not perfect, I think looked significantly better.  By rounding it is a little harder to see the lack of straightness in the edge.

After a lot of sanding, it looks a little better.

The next step is to black-out the edges of the window.  You see, the shape of the window is different than the window opening and in order to not see the mounting and fuselage underneath the window, these areas are coated with a black paint. In order to do that, I needed to transfer the shape of the internal window opening to the protective covering of the new glass so I could cut and remove it.  I created a pattern using construction paper by shining a light through the old window and tracing the outline. I then cut the pattern out, leaving tabs that went to the windows edge at several locations to aid in placement on the new window.

Lining up the pattern using tape reinforced positioning tabs.

Once the pattern was cut out, I laid it out on the new window and traced the outline with a marker. Using a sharp knife I then carefully cut the protective paper along the line and removed it.

Removing the protective paper for the blackout area.

In order to get the paint to stick, I hand sanded the exposed acrylic.  I re-taped about 3/4 of an inch of the edge of the window that I didn't want covered in blackout to help guarantee the sealant will hold the window this time.

Sanded with edges taped, ready for the blackout

Of course the black paint they originally used when installing the window I believe to be the main source of the seal failure (the whole reason I am doing this) so I tried a different option.  On the Leopard Catamaran owners group on Yahoo, someone said they had thinned down some Dow 795 sealant with mineral spirits and then used it to black out the window.  Since 795 is the currently recommended sealant and the one I will be using, and since it is supposed to stick well to itself, I decided to give this a try.  Using a partial tube of 795 that was graciously given to me by a fellow Leopard owner and blog reader, I created the thinner 795 and applied it to the window.

Blackout thinned 795 applied

As you may be able to tell from the shadows in the last picture, the day was ending as the blackout started to dry.  So, it took all day, but the edges of both windows are now better and the starboard window (if the sealant "paint" cures) should be ready to install tomorrow.

Rebedding The Salon Windows...or Not

The weather finally improved on Saturday and was supposed to be nice for several days, so it was time to get one of my bigger projects started.  Leopard catamarans have a near 100% failure rate on the sealing of the salon side windows on most of their boats, and mine was no exception.  With all the supplies I think I needed finally gathered, it was time to start.

I started by trying to wipe the dew off of the boat in an effort to help it dry faster.  I needed to do this in order to put down the construction paper and masking that was recommended before starting the project.  I had been told that removing the old sealant was a messy task and masking off a large area would keep me from spending hours cleaning black goo out of the nonskid on the deck.

While waiting for the deck to dry, I went inside and removed the shades from the window. The morning sun was apparently in just the right spot to light up every crazing crack and scratch in the window.  I hadn't realized it was as bad as it was.  This got me thinking about the whole "should I replace the glass as long as I was re-bedding the window" again.  I had originally decided that the glass wasn't in that bad of shape and since I wasn't finding any information on replacement options I would just rebed it...but now I'm second guessing that decision.

After the deck was finally dry enough, I put on enough masking to clean up a crime scene...or so I thought.  I covered the entire side of the boat in the vicinity of the window with construction paper. I put up thin plastic masking on the inside of the boat around the window to help prevent any possible mess from migrating inside the boat.  It took a lot longer than I thought it would, between waiting to dry and masking everything it was now 11 am and I'm finally ready to pull the window.

Since the window was already popping out in places, I decided I would just try to pull it off by hand.  I stuck a couple suction cups I had bought from Harbor Freight to the window and gave it a pull.  The front lower edge and side came right off, as did the back edge.  I used a knife (also picked up from Harbor Freight for the window replacement) to cut the four foot of sealant that was still attempting to hold onto the window, and out it came.

Scene of the crime, with the sealant "bead" partially removed

With the window out, the problem with the seal became obvious.  Black paint was put on the back side of the window to black out the mounting surfaces.  Unfortunately, the blackout paint, failed to adhere to the plastic window.  The result is the sealant was holding onto the paint and the boat, but the paint wasn't holding on to the window.  No wonder they have such a high failure rate with this.

While removing the window was easy, removing the giant bead of sealant was more of a chore.  It came up easily where the paint was applied to the opening, but wherever there was bare gel coat, it was very persistent in hanging on.  I would pull on the giant bead trying to slide the razor knife between it and the gel coat to cut it loose.  In some places, small chips of gel coat pulled off the boat with the sealant.  And if you pulled the bead of sealant apart, you found a gooey center like the sealant in the middle never cured.  When the wind would kick up, it liked to take little bits of the sealant and blow it all over the boat...so I guess I should have masked off the whole boat.  It was a messy process and took the rest of the day to clean the opening up to the point I could install the window.

Of course, in the middle of cleaning up this mess I decide I really should replace the window.  With all the pain of taking this thing out, I certainly don't want to do it again anytime soon (well, other than the other salon window that needs this same treatment).  Now that I had the window out I know it is 3/8 inch Plexiglass (acrylic) and best I can tell it was originally just a flat piece that was slightly curved during install to fit the boat (information I had tried to find before I started all of this, but was unsuccessful).  I asked my wife to try and help me locate someone that had tinted 3/8 inch acrylic and could cut the window, but it being Saturday, there wasn't an available option to be found in Brunswick or the surrounding area.

So, it looks like I'll have plastic covering a big hole in my boat until at least Monday, when I hopefully can find someone to cut me a replacement window.  Keeping my fingers crossed that the weather forecasts are accurate and it is supposed to be nice and dry for the next several days.

Lots of Learnin'

Since the beginning of the year most of the "work" I've been doing on the boat falls under the category of learning.  I've got a number of projects that I would like to accomplish and all of it is stuff I really know nothing about, so I've been spending a lot of time Googling these various projects.

The first project is one I started in December.  I would really like to replace the fabric bimini top on the boat with a hard top.  There are a number of advantages to having a hard top.  First, I won't need to deal with replacing the fabric on a semi-regular basis as the sun takes its toll on fabric and sewing of the top. More importantly, it provides a wide and stable platform for working with the main sail boom, something I consider to be a safety enhancement.  It will also be a nice platform for mounting solar panels.  And there is no point in creating a new set of dodgers for my current top if I intend to replace it.  So, I've been talking with a guy in town about options for creating a simple hard top and looking at other designs for ideas on getting one made for a reasonable cost.

Speaking of solar, that is also on the list of upgrades I would like to make soon.  Currently, the only ways I have to keep the batteries charged on the boat are to run the engines, run the diesel generator, or plug it into shore power.  Since I would like to spend more time out of marinas and on anchor (and not have to burn lots of diesel), I need a greener way to keep the batteries topped off and solar power seems like the best option.  Having a catamaran, and particularly one with a hard top bimini, provides a lot of space to install solar.  Recently Kyocera came out with some solar panels that produce up to 325 watts of power at 40 volts DC and they are reasonably priced.  With the right maximum power point tracking (MPPT) controller, two of these panels could produce somewhere in the neighborhood of 240 Amp Hours of juice a day.  So, I've been looking at solar packages similar to this one to add to the boat.  I also performed a power inventory to see how much power I think I will need in a day.  Of course, a lot of this is still guess work as I don't have really good numbers for how we will be using power.  Things like the refrigerator (one of the big power hogs) is easy, but other lifestyle uses are still somewhat unknown.

I also need rebed both of the large salon side windows on the boat.  It seems that Leopard didn't have a good process or didn't use the best materials when they were originally installed. The result is a failure rate on the seals on the windows on most of their older boats is near 100%.  The windows have no mechanical fasteners and are only held in by sealant.  So, I've spent a lot of time looking through all the questions and pictures on the Leopard owners group on Yahoo.  It sounds like a bit of a tedious and messy process, but I think I have a handle on it.  Guess I'll find out soon as the sealant needed should arrive later today.  Then I just need a couple warm dry days to do the work.

One other task has popped up that I wasn't planning on.  When I was showing a fellow Leopard 3800 owner at the marina my new Mantus anchor, we noticed that the fiberglass structure that the anchor roller is mounted to has started to crack.  The roller and bail now move some when they shouldn't move at all.  Since this area takes a lot of load while anchoring, it will need to be repaired.  So, with my very limited knowledge about fiberglass repair, I've been researching that as well.  Looking at the other Leopard, his boat has a significantly thicker fiberglass structure than mine, so I guess someone might have figured out an issue with the boat in between when mine was built and when his was.  In any case, looks like I'll be doing some pretty serious fiberglass layup work in the near future.

So, filling my head with boat fixing knowledge, hopefully I can execute some of it well.

Look Ma, It Really IS A Sailboat

Other than a very brief period during the sea trial, about a 1 minute stint in the ICW near Palm Coast, and our brief period before the engine impeller imploded on our trip up to Brunswick, we never have really had a chance to actually sail our Leopard 38. Something I remedied this past Friday.

It was supposed to be good sailing weather with blue skies and winds around 15 knots out of the southwest.  I just couldn't pass that up.  Since my wife is not around to go sailing with me, I conned Doug on s/v Pieridae, a friend I made here at the docks in Brunswick, to go with me to do a little actual sailing.

We left the docks around 10:30am and motored down the East River to "the bridge".  Once we made it under the bridge, we raised the sails and shut down the engines.  There is just something about a sailboat cruising along without the drone of the engines in the background.  It was nice.

The Brunswick Sidney Lanier Bridge

We sailed down the St. Simons sound on a nice broad reach with the boat making between 5 and 7 knots.

St. Simons Sound

It was grueling work...but someone had to do it. ;-)

A "rough" day as the captain

We went through the sound, past St. Simons Lighthouse and through the inlet out to the Atlantic Ocean.

The Atlantic with sails unfurled

It was a beautiful sail.  A few times we were running with the wind dead at our backs and we managed to keep the boat wing-on-wing for a little while (for my readers not savvy on sailing, this is where the wind is behind you and you have the Mainsail off to one side and the Jib or Genoa off to the other so the wind can "push" on both sails)

Sailing win-on-wing

Of course, since the wind was behind us leaving, it was on our nose as we came back.  We spent some time beating (tacking) back into the inlet and past the St. Simons lighthouse.  It had been so long since I really sailed a catamaran, that I screwed up the first couple of tacks and got the boat in irons.  Doug actually suggested we try back-winding the Genoa to help push us through the turn and that is when I remembered that was actually what I was taught to do.  We then had a good amount of practice with that maneuver as we crept our way back into St. Simons sound.

Tacking torward St. Simons Lighthouse

Unfortunately, during our return, both the wind and the outgoing tide conspired against us.  Each tack seemed to produce lower and lower forward movement (referred to as Velocity Made Good) toward our goal.  The points in the zig-zag pattern of our track on the chart plotter kept getting closer and closer together.  Deciding that we needed to get back before dark, we reluctantly fired the engines back up, furled the sails, and motored our way back to the marina.

When we got to the marina, the wind was blowing over 25 knots or so across the docks and that made it fun getting Rover back into her slip.  But with a little help from dockside, we got her safely back home.

Boy it felt good to get the boat out and sail.  I only wish my wife had been here to enjoy the day with me.

And thanks to Doug for being crew and ships photographer on the trip.

Renaming Ceremony Video

I've mentioned several times in the past that I've met some pretty cool people since I've started living aboard. I've also met some pretty cool people as part of this blog.  Britton and Dieter from Diving Into Cruising fit both of those categories.  In addition to their talents as scuba dive masters and at restoring their Newport 40 Ketch, they seem to be very good at taking, editing, and producing videos.

Back when we did our renaming ceremony for Rover, they shot some video of the occasion and yesterday sent me the completed video.  I think they did an awesome job (especially given the subjects), going well above and beyond anything I could have imagined.

So, here is the video of the renaming ceremony courtesy of my friends at Diving Into Cruising...



As you can see, lots of champagne was offered to the gods of the seas and the winds to help ensure Rover is safe within their realm.

While some may question the effectiveness of our ceremony given the engine trouble we had a few days later, the fact that it was all resolved with a $40 part and some new engine coolant (instead of a new engine) tells me we must have done something right.

Not The Way We Wanted To Arrive In Brunswick

After spending the night at Palm Cove Marina in Jacksonville Beach, we get an early start so we can make it the rest of the way to Brunswick.  The wind is again on our nose, expected to clock around to the northeast in the afternoon...so we might as well just continue motoring up the Intracoastal Waterway (ICW). This time was different though, for the first time there will be no captain or instructor or other help, just my wife and I and our Leopard 38. I know I am ready and my wife was too.

We cast off lines, depart the dock, and motor down the narrow channel back to the ICW and we were soon making our way north in the crisp morning air.  The clouds from the previous day were long gone and it looked like it was going to be a better day than the previous one.

Ironically, this part of the trip does provide a little more of a navigation challenge than the previous day, but we got good briefings on the route from the captain as well as my friend and former broker Pete, so we figured we were in pretty good shape.  It is always good to have local knowledge and on this section it would definitely help keep us out of trouble.

Turbulent Atlantic Avenue bridge in the distance.

The ICW is in a pretty wide river through Jacksonville, but there is one area where the most of the flow squeezes under a causeway bridge.  This was the first challenging spot on which we were briefed. Going under this bridge can be a bit tricky if there is much flow...and of course we were fighting the current a bit when we got there.  The boat speed dropped from 7 to 4 knots as we made our way under the bridge and steering became a bit squirrely. I'm glad I was warned about this and the passage under the bridge, other than slow, was uneventful.

Soon the ICW opened up into the St. Johns river and my wife and I were looking at a naval shipyard that had some large military vessel in dock.  We were admiring the ship while allowing a wide berth to anything military (seems like a prudent idea) when it donned on me that we were briefed about this as well.  Sure enough, I check the chart and the shipyard was where we needed to make a turn in order to stay on the ICW.  Glad I caught that before we motored for a half an hour in the wrong direction.  Of course, just after the turn there is also a bascule bridge (fancy term for a draw bridge) that we needed to open (unlike some motorboats, our 59 foot mast doesn't fit under these so well).

Marina at Fernandina Beach

In the confusion of getting back on course, I forgot to check the name of the bridge...but wanting to get a call in sooner rather than later I took a guess and haled the bridge using the name of the street I found on the chart. Now I've heard stories of bridge tenders that won't respond unless you hail them with exactly the right bridge name on exactly the right channel.  Perhaps it was the entertainment of my abrupt U turn or maybe this tender is just nicer than some, but fortunately for me he was more forgiving and simply responded with the correct name.  I requested the next bridge opening and he told me to continue my approach (I knew that the bridge was on-demand and figured this would be the response, but I've also been told to be as nice as possible to the bridge tenders because they can easily make your life difficult...and besides there really isn't any reason not to be pleasant to someone providing you a service).  As soon as we cleared the bridge I radioed back that we were clear, thanked him, and wished him a nice day.

Just like stacking dominoes...only bigger.

The next point that we were briefed on is the submarine base at Kings Bay.  The ICW comes right up along side this restricted area and you need to make very sure that you turn when you are supposed to, or I imagine you will have some explaining to do to with some people that have big guns and no sense of humor. You also cannot cut the corner here because, while the river seems wide, it is very shallow outside the channel markers.

As we motor up the inlet toward the base we seem to once again be fighting the current (the joke about the wind and current always coming from the direction you want to go in a sailboat seems to be holding true) and we were making between 4 and 5 knots again.  I move over to the edge of the channel in hopes that the shallower water might reduce the currents effects a bit and we did pick up maybe half a knot...better than nothing.  We come up to the base and I see warning signs and a patrol boat sitting at the entrance.  I keep a watchful eye for the ICW markers and make our turn right when we are supposed to.  So no conversations with grumpy military officials for us that day. And sorry, no pictures were taken in the area either.

Once we turned onto the ICW, the depth dropped from the 30 or 40 ft. we were seeing back to the 8 to 12 that is more typical of the ICW.  Even thought we were still fighting a bit of a current, our speed did pick up some as well.  We continued motoring up the ICW, meandering through the countryside and enjoying the sun and scenery that floated by.  I did wonder if we made the right decision going up the ICW since it wanders around a bit in northern Florida and Southern Georgia.  Probably best for us newbies to just enjoy the wandering up the ICW though...even if it does take a bit longer.

Eventually the wandering did get the best of me and I noticed that ahead in the Saint Andrew Sound, a little south of Jekyll island, we were going to be close to the ocean in a rather wide sound. The wind was going to be coming close to setting us up for a nice beam reach through the sound.  So, as we got to that area, we pointed the boat into the wind for a minute and raised the sails.  The wind was blowing over 20 knots so we did reef both the main and the genoa.  We turned back on course, trimmed the sails and pulled the engines to idle.  Finally...we were a sailboat...well, almost.  Since we didn't have a long time to sail, I figured it was best to just keep the engines running at idle instead of shutting them down and restarting them a few minutes later.  So, technically with the engines running (even in idle) we were still a motorboat, but we were sailing...and with the reefed sails we were making the same speed we had been with the engines engaged.  It felt good!

The 15 or so minutes seemed to pass by very quickly and we were soon at the point where we needed to turn into the narrow and shallow ICW channel behind Jekyll island.  Oh well...at least we finally got to sail our sailboat...and that was great.  We furl the genoa, engage the engines again and turn into the wind and drop the main.  Back to full motorboat mode again.  We throttle the engines up and with my wife at the helm I was forward to secure the main sail, halyard, and reefing lines.

As I return to the cockpit my heart sank.  I notice what appears to be steam or smoke coming from the starboard engine room hatch and that faint smell of hot metal from an engine overheating.  I quickly check the engine temperature gauge and find it pegged in the red even though engine alarm had not gone off.  My wife, still being very new to the boat simply didn't notice difference and since she was looking forward, she did not see the steam and (probably thanks to her encounter with Zicam) didn't pick up on the hot engine smell.  So, I quickly shut the engine down, grab a fire extinguisher, and go check the engine hatch.  It does seem like steam and not smoke so I slowly open the hatch.  Steam billows out of the engine room...but fortunately there is no fire.

If there is one thing I learned in aviation, it is that redundancy is a good thing.  One of the advantages of a catamaran is that it has two engines and in our cat one engine can push it along at a pretty respectable speed (at least 3/4 of full speed with both engines).  So, we continue to make our way along the ICW on our port engine while we try and figure out what to do. We are perfectly safe at the moment, but you see, this new captain is pretty sure he will have a problem trying to dock on a single engine in a crowded marina.  I've gotten pretty good at maneuvering with the two engines...but this was a bit much to ask of myself.

Not the way you want to arrive at a marina.

We decided to avail ourselves of the services of our newly acquired SeaTow membership (think AAA of the ocean) and get towed in to the dock. They get us into our slip and we get the boat tied up.  I'm sure glad I bought that membership, the "free" tow would have otherwise cost us $600.  I also have to thank the folks at Brunswick Landing marina, even though we got there late, they stayed and helped us get tied up and give us the key cards to the clubhouse/bathhouse before they left for the evening.

Rover sitting quietly in her slip as the sun set.

With all the steam in the engine room we weren't able to assess the situation with the engine even after we arrived.  The next day we rent a car in order to go shuttle my car from Palm Coast to Brunswick and then hopped on a plane back to Denver.  So, assessing the engine will have to wait until I return in a week. This certainly wasn't the way I wanted to end our first trip in Rover just the two of us, but it seemed like the prudent thing to do.

Renaming Our Leopard

I'm still catching up on the posts...but at least heading in the right direction now.

While my wife and I were both together on the boat, it seemed like the best time to perform the renaming ceremony.  For anyone that isn't familiar with all the superstition surrounding sailing vessels and the high seas, there is a lot of it. And naming, or renaming, a vessel is one of those items steeped in tradition and lore.  Since we had already submitted the paperwork to the Coast Guard to change the name (which I hear might be processed in a few more months), it was about time to make the name change happen.

The basic concept is that you need to appease the gods of the seas and wind (Poseidon/Neptune, Boreas,  Zephyrus, Eurus, Notus) and it seems, just like with many a sailor, drink is the appeasement of choice for the sailing gods.  So the ceremony consists of asking the gods to be good to the boat while pouring copious amounts of champagne or wine into the water or flinging it through the air.  There are some other "options" and variations on the theme, but they all seem to have that in common.  I do wonder why it is not rum...but then I don't really want to waste perfectly good rum do I?

Here is a write-up on the ceremony we used:
http://www.boatsafe.com/nauticalknowhow/rename.htm

To get the old name off of the boat was easier than I thought it would be.  I ended up using a plastic scraper and my newly acquired heat gun (if you own a boat and intend to do any work on hoses, you'll need one of these) to remove the old lettering.  A little heat loosened the glue and the letters peeled off fairly easily.  A little goo gone took care of what little residual glue remained.

Farewell Breathe

After the letters were removed we could see both the old name (Breathe), and the prior name (Magnificat) in the gel coat. There was some discoloration and the gel coat, of course, does not wear under the vinyl letters so they are raised a bit.  I used some rubbing/polishing compound to try and smooth it out before adding the new letters.

Applying the letters is pretty straight forward.  We got the lettering from Lettering On the Cheap (which may be a bit of a misnomer but weren't bad, had easy to use online design tools, and delivered pretty quickly). The letters come attached to a big clear temporary sticker used for positioning.  Following the online video instructions on their site, we were able to get the new lettering applied to the boat a few hours before the ceremony was supposed to start.  Of course, we had to immediately cover up the new lettering so as not to offend the gods until the ceremony was complete.

Our first attempt at the ceremony was postponed due to the cold and rain (so much for "Sunny Florida" during "the dry season") but several guests showed up anyway so we ended up having an impromptu party...or maybe it was the pre-naming celebration.

The next day the rains held off so we were able to complete the ceremony.  Unfortunately we didn't have quite as many people show up as the previous day, but it was a fun time anyway.  We asked begged the gods to be kind to our fine vessel and poured and flung champagne (keeping the corks from the naming ceremony on board to ensure the boat stays afloat is apparently another tradition), then finally removed the covering from the new lettering.

Hello Rover

So, it is now official, we have a cat named Rover. If you want to know more about how we came upon this name, check out this post.  Now a few random pictures from the ceremony and party (sorry...my wife won't let me post any including her yet).

Opening one of the sacrificial bottles of champagne.

A few friends waiting on the dock while we did the ceremony.

Champagne, wine, beer...something will appease the gods, right?

Hopefully the first of many gatherings of friends on Rover.

A special thanks to Britton and Dieter for providing some of the pictures...and for reaching out when they noticed I was in their area.  The cruising community is very cool because of people like them (and most every cruiser or wannabe cruiser I've had the fortune of meeting thus far has been very cool).