On May 16, 7:24*pm, cruisin wrote:
Greetings from Fiji,
A quick, slightly longwinded, note to report what happens to a boat
left alone with her keel in a hole for too long...not pretty.
We expected the mold to be growing on almost every surface since we
knew there would be very few nice days for our boat-minder to air her
out, and had already been informed that the solar charge controller
had gone kaput so the batteries would be flat and the fans not
operating. *Since the engine couldn't be started we kind of expected
some probems there too.
The reality of things was kind of shocking, though, and I doubt I'll
ever leave our girl alone like that again. *Bottom line is what we've
always known- the worst thing you can do to a boat is not use her for
too long.
Getting her cleaned up really wasn't too hard; just wipe everything
down with bleach and you're good to go. *Luckily all four golf cart
batteries were tough enough to come back since they cost about $500
each here to replace, and the new solar charge controller we brought
back was a cinch to install. *Most of the pumps and motors still
worked, which was cool, but the bilge pump float switch had given up
the ghost- no prob there, had a spare. *Then came splash day.
The short trip from the travel lift to the tie-up spot would have been
comical if it weren't so stressfull on poor Ladysailor. * There really
wasn't a practical way to test the engine before we hit the water
besides a quick crank, or at least that's what I thought, so there we
were, hanging in the straps, cranking the old Isuzu, running down to
bleed some more fuel, trying again, etc. with a very patient lift
operator wishing we'd hurry up and just s**t or get off the pot. *We
could have gotten a tow to our berth, but no, gotta get this beast
going I'm thinking. *Finally with a cloud of smoke she sputters to
life, whoopee, happy time now, she's smoothed out and purring like a
kitten. *Ha ha.
Transmission seems to work OK, something I actually had tried in
advance, so off we go for the 200 yard voyage across the little lagoon
that is the marina here. *"Why's all that smoke coming out of the
cabin?" shrieks Ladysailor as we pull away from the launching area.
"Oh, nothing too major," I answer after a quick look, "just a belt
slipping a little," *as the engine alarm starts buzzing loudly. *"No
problem" says I, reaching for the kill handle that is rusted solid and
unmovable, "just put her into neutral and we'll coast in." *You
guessed it, the trans lever no longer wants to move and we're stuck in
forward, heading for a really hard sea wall. *All was well once we did
a quick donut and I somehow was able to budge the kill lever on the
engine enough to shut her down, but I think we both grew a few new
grey hairs that afternoon. *Turns out the alternator was rusted solid
and the belt that also spins the water pump just melted down going
over the stationary pulley.
Amazingly enough, almost everything seems fixed now, after going
through a can of WD-40 and Tri-Flow, and we may actually get out
cruising in a week or two, or at least do a sea trial. *Here's a link
to Fijian-style boat storagehttp://www.sailinglinks.com/IMG_1709.JPG
Seaya,
Mike and Barb
s/y Arabella, a Swift 40www.sailinglinks.com

Here is the edited version of this post as it was printed in Latitude
38 magazine June addition, Changes in Latitudes section. I submitted
it via their e-mail when I posted it here. Anyway, I'm just curious
to hear what you think about the edit: Here are my thoughts:

1. Was it clearer? Yeah maybe.
2. Shorter? Yeah I guess.
3. Better grammar and less wild use of punctuation? Oh probably.
4. More fun to read? I don't know, maybe...what do you think?


Arabella — Swift 40
Mike and Barb Fulmer {misspelled my name, no prob}
Six Months On The Hard In Fiji
(Channel Islands)

What happens to a boat that gets left alone on the hard for too long?
It's not pretty.

Having left our boat in Fiji, with her keel set in a hole to reduce
the chance she'd get blown over by a tropical cyclone, we expected to
return to find mold growing on almost every surface. That's because we
knew there would be very few nice days for our boat-minder to air her
out, and we'd already been informed that the controller for our solar
panels had gone kaput, meaning the batteries would be flat and
therefore the fans wouldn't work. Since the engine couldn't be
started, we expected there would be some problems there, too.

Even though we expected such things, the reality was so shocking that
we doubt we'll ever leave our girl alone like that again. The bottom
line is what we've always known: the worst thing you can do to a boat
is not use her for a long time.

Getting Arabella cleaned up wasn't really too hard. We just wiped
everything down with bleach, and she was good to go. And luckily our
four golf cart batteries were tough enough to be brought back, because
replacing them would have run about $500 each down here. The new
controller for the solar panels was a cinch to install, too.

Most of the pumps and various motors still ran, which was good, but
the bilge pump float switch had given up the ghost, But we had a
spare, so no problem there. Then came splash day. The short trip from
the Travel-Lift to the berth would have been comical if it weren't so
stressful on poor Barb. There really wasn't a practical way to test
the engine before we hit the water besides a quick crank, or at least
that's what I thought. So there Arabella was, hanging in the straps,
with me cranking the old Isuzu, running down below to bleed some more
fuel, try to start her again, and so forth. All the while the very
patient lift operator was wishing we'd hurry up and either **** or get
off the pot.

It's true, we could have gotten a tow to our berth, but no, I thought
to myself, I've gotta get this beast going. Finally there was a cloud
of smoke and she sputtered to life. Whoopee! Happy times now that she
smoothed out and purred like a kitten.

The transmission, which I tried before we went into the water, seemed
to be fine, so off we went on the 200-yard voyage across the little
lagoon that is the marina here.

"Why is all that smoke coming out of the cabin?" Barb suddenly
shrieked as we pulled away from the launching area.

"It's nothing major," I replied, having taken a quick look and seen
that the belt was slipping a little. Just then the engine alarm
started buzzing loudly.

"That's not a problem either," I said while reaching for the kill
switch, which had become rusted solid and unmovable, "put her in
neutral and we'll coast in."

But as you might have guessed, the transmission level no longer wanted
to move, so we were stuck in forward, unable to take the engine out of
gear or shut her down. And we were headed right for the sea wall.

Fortunately, we were able to do a quick 180 turn before hitting the
wall, and I was eventually able to somehow budge the kill switch
enough to shut the engine down. After further investigation, I
discovered why the engine alarm had gone on: the alternator had rusted
solid, and the belt that turns the water pump had melted down on the
pulley.

Amazingly enough, after going through an entire can of WD-40 and Tri-
Flow, everything seems to be running well again, and we may actually
get out of here in a week or do. Nonetheless, I think both Barb and I
grew a few new gray hairs that afternoon.

— mike 05/15/08