On Jun 1, 5:19*pm, "Wilbur Hubbard"
wrote:
"cruisin" wrote in message

...

snip
I tried to warn
you about that woman but you wouldn't listen. I tried to tell you she was
trouble but she managed to pull the wool over your eyes.

Wilbur Hubbard

Yeah sure Wilneal, we all know you really just wanted her to join you
in your purple-upholstered passion pit of a v-berth!

Mike the Bunyip-hunter

"cruisin" wrote in message
...

Yeah sure Wilneal, we all know you really just wanted her to join you
in your purple-upholstered passion pit of a v-berth!

Oh come now! If you're talking about the v-berth in Captain Neal's, world
famous, blue water, Coronado 27, surely you jest. There is no way in Hell
Ladysailor could fit in that small space. Besides, the Good Captain would
only want her to stay in the galley where old women belong provided she's a
good cook and dishwasher. For the v-berth the upper age limit is 30 years
old and the height limit is 5'2" and the weight limit is 110 pounds.seems
like I remember him telling me something along those lines.


Wilbur Hubbard
Allied Seawind 32, "Sea Isle"

On Jun 3, 8:34*am, "Wilbur Hubbard"
wrote:
"cruisin" wrote in message

...

Yeah sure Wilneal, we all know you really just wanted her to join you
in your purple-upholstered passion pit of a v-berth!

Oh come now! If you're talking about the v-berth in Captain Neal's, world
famous, blue water, Coronado 27, surely you jest. There is no way in Hell
Ladysailor could fit in that small space. Besides, the Good Captain would
only want her to stay in the galley where old women belong provided she's a
good cook and dishwasher. For the v-berth the upper age limit is 30 years
old and the height limit is 5'2" and the weight limit is 110 pounds.seems
like I remember him telling me something along those lines.

Wilbur Hubbard
Allied Seawind 32, "Sea Isle"

Right-o Willie, keep up the good work and remember, reality is what
you think it is!

Your best pal and fellow Mariner,

Mike

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

"cruisin" wrote in message
...

It's better and good reading but I can improve it for you somewhat gratis:
Mostly I've used more varied and descriptive verbs, corrected some grammar
problems and tried to make it more personal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


What happens to a sailboat in storage on the hard for a long time?
More than one might expect and it's not a pretty sight.

Having left our boat in Fiji, with her keel set in a hole in the ground to
reduce
the chance she'd get blown over by tropical cyclone winds, 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. Also, we'd previously been informed that the charge controller for
our photovoltaics had gone kaput, meaning the batteries would be flat and
the fans not working. Since the engine couldn't be started, we expected
there would be some problems there, as well.

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 to not use her for a long time.

Getting Arabella cleaned up wasn't really too hard - just a good deal of
elbow grease. We wiped everything down with bleach, and she was good
to go. And, fortunately, our four golf cart batteries were tough enough to
be brought back, because replacing them here in Fiji would have set us
back about $500 for each one. The new controller for the solar panels was
a cinch to install. Most of the pumps and sundry motors were operational,
which was a relief, but the bilge pump float switch had given up the ghost.
We installed 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 other than
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 below to bleed fuel,
trying
to start her again, and so forth. All the while, the very patient lift
operator was
wishing we'd hurry up and either poop 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.

"What's all that smoke coming out of the cabin," Barb suddenly
shrieked as we motored away from the launching area.

"It's nothing major," I demurred, having taken a quick look and
seeing that the alternator belt was slipping a little. Just then the
engine alarm commenced buzzing raucously.

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

But, as you might have guessed, the shift lever picked that moment to stop
moving, so we were stuck in forward, unable to take the engine out of
gear and could not shut her down. Besides that, we were closing rapidly on
the sea wall!

Fortunately, we were able to do a quick 180 degree turn before striking the
wall, and I was eventually able to budge the kill switch enough to shut the
engine down. After further investigation, I discovered why the engine alarm
had sounded: the alternator drive shaft had rusted solid, and the belt that
also
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 so. Nonetheless, I think both Barb and I
acquired several new gray hairs that afternoon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Wilbur Hubbard