It's a Wrap for this Season

Now that I'm back in San Carlos and the Bliss boat is in Barra de Navidad, I'll be moving to my other blog, The Green Flash.

But I wanted to show off some of the work completed on Bliss before the switch. Below is the galley as it has been for the past couple of years.
And below, is the galley with the new double sink & faucet, and the new formica on cabinets and countertop.
And then there's the dish holder with the formica on the outside. The rounded ends were made by cutting a 4 inch PVC pipe in half and glueing it to the end of the dish holder. They hold the cooking utensils.
The three holes behind have been merged into one large ovoid window that will provide more light and ventilation to the cook. The holes held the old instruments (wind, speed, depth) that have been replaced with new stuff at the helm.

So that's it for Bliss this season. Although I won't be adding anything new to the boat until the winter, I will be chronicling some of the improvements that were done in prior years.

I'll get back to her this winter, after a summer of working on the business and The Green Flash.
See ya'

The best laid plans...

I finished up my last post with the simple statement that all I have to do is jump in the Westy and drive back to San Carlos, a mere 1,000 miles away. The Westy had other ideas.

I drove to Barra in a $12,000 Westy Camper...

I made the drive from Barra to Banderas Bay without incident. Flashed my dock access card at the guard at Marina Riviera Nayarit in La Cruz, and drove into the parking lot for the Yacht Club/Harbormasters office. I popped the camper top up and spent the night after a nice hot shower and some tacos on the square. The Octopus' Garden was locked up, being Sunday night.

The next morning, I drove to the above-named establishment for my morning espresso and 4 kilos of French Roast beans. Talked with the owners about their plans for the next cruising season... (they're building a spring-loaded Salsa dance floor) and would be willing to help me hook-up with other jazz musicians next time I come through...

Then off I went, next stop, Mazatlan... but no.

About 30 miles out of the Banderas Bay area, I saw a large plume of blue smoke exit the van with a loud-sounding pop. I pulled over and looked in the engine compartment and saw nothing wrong. A Backfire, I thought. After a few more miles, I hear a rattling sound and check again to find oil dripping slowly from underneath the car. So, I stopped at a hardware store and bought 4 quarts of 40 weight oil. 50 pesos each.

I make it a point to stop every 20 miles to check on the oil level and add oil if I need it (it always needs it)... After a while I decide to go to San Blas, where there's a gas station and RV parking.

The RV park is located near the mouth of the estuary, 5 acres of neatly groomed lawn and palm trees, run by Irma. She's a Mexican woman about 55 years old and speaks very passable English. For 150 pesos a night I get my pick of camping spots, showers, etc. and wifi. I never could get the wifi to work. but because of the limited space in the van, I didn't bother to pursue an internet connection.

My examination of the car and suspected drip region, along with the big, green shop manual indicates a blown gasket on the oil pump. I have to remove the muffler, the "engine carrier," and the motor mounts. to get to the oil pump.

Working for two days, sunup to sundown, I remove the stuff, replace the gasket with some liquid stuff and put it all back together. (San Blas is known for its bugs and crocodiles, so I burn a lot of coils, and smear on a lot of Autan™ insect repellent and when I'm lying under the vehicle, just put up with a lot of ants. I take 2 showers a day or more. On day three, I pack up and drive out. The van sounds and drives great! Plenty of power. But as I climb the mountains from San Blas to Mazatlan, the heat builds up in the motor and I have to stop and add oil. I find that if I drive for 20 seconds, coast for 20 seconds and add oil every 20 miles, I can average about 20 mph. Maybe 25. By the time I reach Acaponeta, halfway to Maz, I'm out of oil and it's midnight. I pull into the gas station there, go get some fish tacos and lemonade, amd get some sleep.

The next morning, at the urging of the 1st Mate, I walk across the road to the tow truck place and get a bid of 2,700 pesos to haul the van to Mazatlan. The 1st Mate has been in touch with Nancy and Paul, fellow bloggers and good friends. They'll put me up for a night and get me on a bus if I so desire. I do.

So, the next 3 hours are spent hauling the VW to Mazatlan, and parking the van on the street near their house. I get a shower and a long nap in their beautiful home, Paul and I go out looking for the Tufesa bus terminal and we all go out for a very good pizza. I really love their neighborhood. It reminds me of my 20s, when I lived in the renovated area of Capitol Hill, in DC.( Roberta Flack played piano and sang at my local bar, Mr. Henry's, three blocks from my apartment. Beer was a buck and a half.)

and came back in a $120,000 Tufesa bus! Progress!

The next day, I'm up early, and start organizing my stuff for the bus. Paul and I go to the Tufesa just in time to catch the noon bus. Twelve hours later, my own dogs are barking at me as I pay off the taxi. It's so good to be home.

Last night at anchor...

I just dropped the hook in Melaque, near Barra de Navidad... it's 8 pm.

Melaque is about 20 nautical miles west of my last anchorage at Santiago Bay, and should be the proverbial "three hour tour." The morning was beautiful and calm, as I motored out at 8:30 am.

The seas were flat, turtles floating around everywhere, three fast looking warships anchored off Manzanillo and a lovely day.

I took a course to the south that would allow me to reach in front of the lone rock that sits about a half mile off the Barra headland.  A single port tack once the sea breeze fills in, I think. Barra in three hours, I think. So confident. So competent. Life is good.

Six hours later, I'm battling to keep my footing on the stern of the boat as I try to lift the 23 foot ham radio antenna out of the water, after having the brackets shaken loose. The PortaPotti has flipped onto its face in the head, but fortunately, is not leaking. All the books on the boat have come flying from their storage places and are piled with numerous other articles on the cabin sole. The fresh water jug has escaped its restraints and is caroming across the floor. The sunbrella cover I made for the generator is missing, as is my cell phone. There's a reef in the main and the jib is furled in half. All the water and coolant has boiled out of the heat exchanger/radiator of the diesel engine and the motor registers over 200 degrees... very bad. I've pulled up the hatch and the engine room doors in the cabin, having removed and cleaned the sea water strainer, the cover for the sea water pump which is now being held together by one screw and a visegrip. It leaks like crazy... but the bilge pump is taking care of that. The radiator cap was probably the culprit after all. Just not fitted on correctly. Once the engine is running, without overheating, I turn the boat for the third time toward the Barra headland. Twice before the high, steep waves have turned me away... stalling all forward progress toward Barra, which is only two miles away, on the other side of the headland. The wind screams at me, throwing spume and foam off the thousands of whitecaps that surround me.

It takes what it takes.

So, here I am, in Melaque. My last night at anchor for this season.  Tomorrow morning I'll take Bliss up to her slip in Cabo Blanco. And in a few days, I'll lock up the boat until November, get in the Westy camper and drive back to San Carlos.

I'm good with that.

Erratic, but sometimes, just lucky

The view of the beach in Santiago Bay from the bow

The internet connection I bought for  week expired and I couldn't force myself to pay their rates (450 pesos a week) again, so I packed up the boat and sailed down to Santiago Bay, about 20 miles south of Barra. Here, in this wide, calm, and peaceful place I found a free, fast wifi connection.

A wreck sits in the far corner of this beach. 

A favorite spot for divers.

It's a little muggy here, but I think I'll just jump off the boat for a swim in awhile. I'm pretty sure there's no sharks in here, because a large pod of dolphins led me in here last night right around sunset. That would indicate the dolphins are patrolling the bay pretty well... and there's no sign of jellyfish. I might just take a putty knife along and scrape off a barnacle or two, while I'm at it.

A lone jetski races past. When there's a

sailboat around, it draws them like flies.

When it came time for me to start up the diesel on approach to the bay, it wouldn't start. I had noticed that the batteries seemed a bit sluggish on the electric windless that morning (I had anchored in Melaque) and so I turned the boat out to sea, and dove into the battery banks, looking for trouble. I found: a heavy cable with suspect connections; a battery post clamp, incorrectly installed (my bad); and some cells in one bank needing water (also my bad). The second bank didn't need any water all, which made me think that the badly installed battery post clamp was essentially denying my use of the entire bank. I need to do some major cleaning of the connections, but not then. So I fixed the stuff I found wrong, because at the time, I was under sail in a pitching sea.

I hauled the Honda generator into the cockpit, plugged it into the onboard charging system and started it up. after 10 minutes, I tried starting again. The starter spun the engine just fine, but still no joy.

I had once been told that when a diesel won't start, 90 percent of the time it's due to a fuel problem. So I popped off the hatch, climbed into the engine room and started tapping the main tank, from top to bottom. It was empty. Doggone! I was sure the tank was full when I moved the boat into Barra... I pulled out a jerry jug (word source in a minute) full of diesel and poured it into the tank, and sure enough... the motor started right up.

Jerry Jug: I'm reading a spy novel about the second world war that offers the source of this word... the German Army (the Jerries) made strong, heavy duty fuel cans for their vehicles. The Brits, on the other hand, used fuel tins. That should evoke in you a feeling for the substance and quality of the English-made product, and also it's lack of historical significance.

Now that I'm happily anchored in Santiago, I have a few little things left to do in the galley.

The interior of the cabinets are almost done... these shelves have a nice veneer surface now, rather than rough fiberglass... and that reminds me of a topic I wanted to touch on in this blog:

WHEN IS A BOAT A YACHT?

The definition I've seen is that any boat can be called a yacht, they're interchangeable. But, my instincts tell me that some of the ignored and  derelict boats I've seen in my travels don't warrant the name "yacht." To me, a yacht can be any size boat, but that special attention has been given to the vessel, especially refinements in it's appearance and finish. Coarse, rough fiberglass is covered, or made smooth. Scratches and tears in material is polished out and repaired or replaced. In other words, the definition of "boat" can range from a sinking wreck to a finely crafted yacht, up to a size that in can still be hauled up and placed on a "ship." (This is sort of the Navy's definition.) A yacht shows pride of ownership, or at the least the willingness to spend the money to have SOMEBODY refine and maintain the vessel.

Next, back to the cabinets, complete with photos.

Gag me with a spoon

The cabinets, once the trim is taken off, appear to be a lot of work. The trim is burned in places, the cabinet doors are grungy and this pice of vinyl I took off the shelf is going directly to the trash. It's beyond hope or redemption.

The wood is solid for the most part, but it will be days of sanding the trim around the cabinets... and because of the way it's installed. I dare not attempt to remove it for refinishing. So, long days of stretching across the counter to clean, sand, varnish, sand, varnish, etc.  It also means that the galley will accumulate a lot of dust. And right in the middle of the food prep area... maybe I'll hit a restaurant for a couple of days. It's going to be a messy job.

It seems I can't get a connection good enough for photos tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

15 years late, but there were no blogs then...

This is the first installment of this blog, but the subject has been an ongoing project since St. Pat's Day 1994, when Bliss was purchased. Currently, the boat is berthed in Barra de Navidad, in the state of Jalisco in southern Mexico.

Bliss is a 1973 Morgan Out Island 33. She's a sloop rigged cruiser with a 12 ft beam, 4 ft draft and is 33 ft in length.

This first post is about current projects aboard the boat, but I will, over a period of time, throw in some of the alterations and additions that have been made to Bliss over the years.

There are some limitations at the moment to the elements that I can post to this blog. The nearest internet connection I have is 1.03 nautical miles to the SE (bearing 170 degrees) and in order to connect, I've hoisted an ethernet bridge to the top of Bliss' single mast using the spinnaker halyard.  Because of the distance, the connection is slow... so photos will be limited for a little while to fewer and smaller.

So, here goes:

This first photo shows the original arrangement of cold storage and single deep sink, 36 year-old formica countertop. Above the sink to the back you can see where I've done some paneling. I've been using luan door skins with several coats of urethane finish. The entire interior was built with the dead-looking plywood laminate you see to the right.

This is the counter cut out to install the new double sink. Part of will reach into the cooler box, but the box is used for dry food storage now. It was too warm for cold storage being situated next to the stove/oven, sink (hot water), and the back wall is the engine room (hot diesel engine). Since the sink is much shallower than the one it replaces, I can fit a small VW propane/12v/110v fridge under the sink if it is properly vented. (Years ago I insulated the engine room and installed a high volume in-line fan to the engine room, but that's another project.)

So the fiddles will come off and get sanded and varnished, the formica will be replaced, and the cabinets against the hull will get the same treatment. The idea is to make more space for food prep and cleanup, make it brighter without adding energy gobbling lamps, and make it more efficient (a double sink uses half the water to wash dishes, half the propane to heat the water, and half the electricity to pump it) and it takes half the time to wash and rinse than a single sink.

Another nice thing is the tall faucet I bought allows me to duck my head under it if I need to wash my hair (instead of doing the full shower). It might even work to bathe the dogs, but I still prefer the cockpit shower for that.

Clockwise from upper left: 1) I'm using the old saloon table for parts. 2) This table part gives me a formica faced edge for the cooler opening. 3)  A wooden backing plate for the faucet (never supplied with the faucet). Without this, the faucet feels weak and wobbly. 4) The "sink hole" patched in with pieces of the saloon table, and ready for formica. Tomorrow, we'll wrap up the sink and start the cabinets.