Cat Island to Black Point March 19-21, 2009

As we left you, we were enjoying the first fruits of Barry, our first
barracuda.

As Chris Parker has forecast a hard blow for the weekend, this is a
very protected location, and a good place for hunkering down.
Thursday was forecast to be very light and variable, so Lydia and I
rowed ashore to go exploring. We found the Hermitage atop the tallest
hill in the Bahamas (206’) to be enchanting, and the view stunning,
taking in the harbor and the Atlantic Ocean. An easy walk up, and an
easier walk down, we were rewarded by discovery of what seemed to be
wild tomatoes growing at the side of the road.

We enjoyed a few on the way up, and more on the way down. Much to our
embarrassment, as we were leaving, we discovered that this was, in
fact, a garden set out by locals, for their private use. After
mortified apologies to, and gracious forgiveness from, the owner,
who’d driven up to tell us of our trespass, we later discovered, on
our walk through town, that it was the baker’s.

As much as we enjoy Lydia’s breadmaking, it was a treat to buy both
raisin and coconut bread at prices very much more attractive than we’d
found in the grocery store. After additional apologies, graciously
demurred, we had an entertaining conversation with the owner, a genial
lady who was impressed with Lydia’s mother being alive and available,
let alone sailing, at 83. The day ended with a short shelling
excursion on the beach before rowing back for dinner. Dinner was some
of the barracuda, the remains of which, combined with the last of the
Mahi, will make for a fantastic salad tomorrow night.

Listening to Chris Parker’s broadcast Thursday morning revealed that
the blow we thought would be over by the weekend would instead last
through a week from now. Additional conversations with other
subscribers (listening in on the party line, so to speak) suggested
that sailing over to Black Point would be quite comfortable if we were
to go tomorrow or tomorrow night, so long as we were anchored by
Saturday evening. So, I called him and confirmed our suspicions.
Tomorrow evening it is, for a dawn arrival at the cut.

Between now and then, I have the boat 1-2-3s to attend to. Our
turning blocks on the Genoa should really be back further than they
are, but our fishing pole holders prevented that. We also found
diesel and water leaks, which should be attended to. I would very
much like to dive the boat, cleaning the bottom and inspecting our
prop zincs in this lovely warm water. So, I’ll do all that tomorrow
while Lydia goes ashore for her extended walk, and we’ll have an early
dinner, departing well before dark to assure comfortable navigation
while we clear the shallows on the way out.

Heh. As usual, the best laid plans, etc…

Given that the wind was such that Lydia didn’t feel comfortable rowing
to shore, and I had plenty to do. After doing the morning chores,
including moving the fishing pole holders to a stanchion further
astern, which cured the coming problem of where the genoa sheet
turning blocks would be moved. We’d noticed an anomaly in our charging
and expected rate of discharge, lately; we never seemed to get to the
expected level of charge based on how long the Honda ran, and it
seemed to use an enormous amount overnight. We were soon to find out.

I set to the engine room chores first, as that’s more important than
diving the bottom. Close inspection revealed that there might be a
couple of bolts loose (well, not tight enough) in the engine pan area,
so I gave the only one which would move a twist. I also attempted,
unsuccessfully, to tighten the spot seeming to leak diesel –
annoyingly, the same place as before. So, we’ll have to see how that
works out, later.

We’ve also had a bit of a nuisance in unexpected engine stops (always
starting right up again) after a time of running, when going into
neutral. I’d previously fiddled with the throttle stop, trying to
increase the idle, but it didn’t cure it. Close inspection, as I was
further adjusting the stop, revealed that both ends of the throttle
linkage were loose – the one on the actual fuel meter, and the other
on the cable from the throttle at the helm.

Well… That’s not good – I need to attend to those, too. It took a
lot of wrestling in short, tight spaces, but I got both ends of the
linkage off, to see what was up. The one at the fuel meter hadn’t
been tightly set, and, as well, wasn’t properly attached so as to make
a good surface for the lock washer holding the nut from moving, so the
inset from the meter to the link wasn’t securely engaged. I resolved
that first, as I’d need it during the water pump exercise.

The wobbly-joint at the cable, likewise, wasn’t well set to the
linkage. I left that off while I fiddled with the raw water pump (to
see the results of the repairs there), enabling me to instantly
throttle up, to see the results. I’d also expected to leave the
throttle linkage off so as to easily adjust the idle, but afterwards,
when I restored it, I got a nice surprise. There was no engine
stalling, and the revolutions were at the proper, not lower, number,
as they had been, despite my having substantially moved the adjustment
out (normally resulting in a lower idle). Apparently, all along, from
those before me, too, it was that sloppy linkage at fault, not
something to do with the engine’s efficiency. Even though I hadn’t
set out to do that one, I’m glad that chore’s done, and the
adjustments I made to the hardware should insure that I’ll not have to
deal with that again for a very long time. Back to the water pump…

The water was coming from the hose at the bottom of the raw water (the
seawater which cools the transmission and, through a heat exchanger,
cools the engine, which uses something similar to the antifreeze found
in automotive applications so you don’t get rust and scale inside the
engine) pump. Hm. Should be a simple fix, right? Not so fast.

Shortening the story, I must have had the water pump on and off not
less than a dozen times. The first few were to cut off the squished
(but very hard, being new) hose, where it had been compressed against
the – depending on what size hose you’re trying to use – either
slightly too large to take a standard size hose, or much too small to
take the next size up, properly, spigot on the Jabsco water pump, and
redo it, thinking the hose deformation might somehow be the fault.
After the first 9 or so times without success, I fetched out the
Sherwood (the other brand of pump that came with these Perkins
engines) that I’d bought over the internet, and had in my spares.
These have a different in and out arrangement, much better suited to
effective sealing with hose clamps.

On it went, and sure enough, the hoses didn’t leak. Unfortunately,
the weep hole, designed to tell you when your bearing is failing,
copiously wept (well, ran a steady stream). It was definitely better
at sucking water, however, and since I thought I had a rebuild kit for
the Jabsco, off came the Sherwood (because it needs a rebuild, and
delivered at least as much water to the engine room as the Jabsco,
this time through the bearing weep hole). While Lydia searched in the
spares, I disassembled the Jabsco, because it clearly wasn’t
delivering enough water, as proven by the superior pumping of the
Sherwood (despite all the water it threw around), to install a new
impeller.

Sure enough, one of the vanes (the rubber things which push the water
around in the pump) was broken off. No wonder it wasn’t doing an
effective job of cooling. Good thing I looked.

Oops – no new impeller. But meanwhile, the gasket on the rear plate,
being paper, disintegrated when I disassembled it, and I didn’t have
another. Fortunately I knew we had some Permatex, an in-the-tube
gasket material, and I reassembled it, and tried again. @!#$%^&*()_#@$
%!!! Leaked worse than before, at the hose connection. However,
meanwhile, Lydia managed to find a replacement impeller. Off with the
pump, yet again, and, fortunately, the old impeller came off without
complaint (not always the case!). Also fortunately, we had enough
left in the tiny tube to make another gasket. The impeller went in,
very well lubricated with the same stuff pool servicers use on
swimming pool pumps, we reassembled it, and tried again, this time
using yet another (one more than before) clamp, squeezing it until the
hose squished, and came out the screw slots in the clamps.

On, again, with the pump, and start the engine, again. Well, it pumps
a great deal better, but still leaks. Raggasnaggagiggafratz!! I’ll
have to leave that for another day. I continued to tighten the clamps
until I fear breaking them (as I’d already done on three others
earlier) without success in stopping the leak. I finally gave up and
we had dinner. No such luck on leaving today, or at any rate, before
dark –and that, only if I’m lucky, with all the rest of what I need to
do. That’s because...

Meanwhile, the Honda’s outside charging for all it’s worth, but the
amps going into the battery are fewer than those coming from the
charger. Given that we had good sun and some wind, that didn’t make
any sense, as the total amps should be more, not less, with those
added. Into the engine room to see if I can find what’s happening.
I’d noticed a somewhat funky smell, and laid it off to all the water
we were dumping in the bilge, but no sooner had I climbed over the
engine than I see smoke coming from a wire. Hm. A short – that’s not
good! But it would explain why we were not charging well, and the
charges not lasting as long as we expected.

But wait – it’s not hot. It’s the starter battery, which must have a
short in it, and it’s – despite it’s being a sealed unit – steaming
away (generating nasty smells in the process). Undo the negative
lines attached to it, and it quit. And, it was very hot. There’s our
culprit – glad we discovered it before any excitement! Bolting the
negatives together, in case they were somehow important to starting
the engine, and thoroughly taping them off, all is well again in that
department.

So, we equalized the house bank, about time anyway, since the last
time was January 8th. Sure enough, it did that chore, and was fully
charged with a resting, under load, voltage of 13.2. However, it’s now
well after dinner, and I didn’t get the other things I wanted done. I
finished up the throttle exercise, though, and it was only 8:30. Hm…
Maybe if we hurry up and get shipshape?

Chris had said that leaving any time before midnight would be good
because the heavy weather wasn’t due to start until late on Saturday.
Accordingly, for our first time in pitch darkness, we sailed off the
anchor, having the anchor up by 9:30, only 3 hours later than we’d
wanted. We made sure to fall off so as to not get involved with any
of the other anchored boats upwind of us, and commenced to sail to
Black Point Settlement, the cut into which was 55 miles away. We’d
thought we might have to slow the boat down in order not to arrive too
early, but given the expected direction (broad reach or deeper point
of sail) of the wind, and our delayed departure, we didn’t shorten
sail, putting up all the laundry.

The expectation was that we’d have low to mid teens wind all night,
building toward dawn. However, Lydia’s shift, starting at ~10:30, had
mostly 4-8 knots of wind, and the expected very large swells caused by
long-term unsettled weather to the north caused a great deal of
rolling and sail crashing. At that, one 2-minute period was 20 knots,
and she got 7.1 knots of boat speed. It looked as though we might
not arrive before noon, however, as most of the time, we were making
only 3-4 knots most of the time.

When I came up at 3:30, I took advantage of all the rock ‘n’ roll to
turn on the fuel polisher. We’ve had absolutely no fuel issues, but
if we were to ever have trouble, this would be the perfect opportunity
– so, better safe than sorry, it ran until we arrived. By 3AM, the
wind had picked up to 9-13knots, with boat speed of 5.1. That added
wind was enough to make the boat stiff enough to stop all the sail
crashing which had been going on beforehand (rolling causing slack
sails as it goes back over the top of the wave, thence to suddenly
fill again at the bottom of the next one).

By 4AM, it was 13-18 and 5.8, 5AM had a 25-knot squall that gave us 8
knots over ground. All along, however, the wind varied from minute to
minute, and sometimes in the same minute, by 10 knots or more. Thus,
it might be 18, then drop to 6, then back up to 20, down to 4, and so
on. Not a very comfortable sail, but not at all alarming, either.

You’ll recall that cruising is boat repair in exotic locations, and
this voyage confirmed it yet again. At 6 the back porch light came on
spontaneously. As it was still full dark, that was very
disconcerting. No amount of “clicker” activation or switch movement
on the manual switch in the walkthrough had any effect. 10 minutes
later it spontaneously quit, and the clickers and manual switch worked
properly. Hmmmm. Wouldn’tcha know, 10 minutes later, it came on
again, and was still lit when we anchored.

We negotiated the cut at full dawn, and had our anchor down by 8:30.
It’s a good thing we hadn’t left any earlier, as we’d have arrived too
soon! We were all buttoned up, and ready for the blow by 9AM.
However, there was no internet visible (much to my surprise), so this
is coming to you either by internet café or by sailmail. There’s a
couple of sites which are “open” and have very strong signals, but
they look like schools, so perhaps they just aren’t on line on the
weekend, as no traffic passes.

So, we’ll leave you after having finished the last of the Cat Island
baker’s bread for breakfast, as we go ashore. We’ll pick up next time
with our adventures in Black Point, where we expect to stay for the
next several days, waiting out what’s expected to be nasty weather for
nearly a week.

L8R

Skip and crew