It was just before 0700 on April 26, some hundred miles southeast of Tampa Bay, Florida, aboard John Hamm’s formidable Hylas 54, Split Decision. An hour earlier, I’d come on watch as the powerful cutter roared south under full sail in a solid easterly hovering between 20 and 25 knots, with the occasional higher gust. The seas were confused, bumpy and building, and nobody was particularly interested in breakfast. 

Still, the autopilot was handling everything nicely (competing in the Regata del Sol al Sol’s Cruising Class, auto-helms were permissible). I was perched by the wheel, taking it all in, when silently, unexpectedly, Split Decision rounded up hard to weather. The sails flapped wildly. What the hell? was my first thought. 

Little did I know that the next 17 hours were going to be very, um, interesting. 

We had departed St. Petersburg, Florida, the previous morning bound for Isla Mujeres, Mexico, as part of the 18-boat fleet in this biennial 470-mile Gulf of Mexico distance race that skirts the west coast of Cuba. I’d done the race once before and totally enjoyed it, so when the opportunity to crew on Split Decision ­presented itself, I was all in.

I’d joined a fun, experienced crew of racing sailors from the notable St. Petersburg Yacht Club. They were led by skipper Hamm, who completed a circumnavigation with his family some 20 years ago (Hamm’s brother, Chris, a professional mariner from San Diego, rounded out the six-man team). To say that Split Decision was exquisitely prepared is an understatement. Hamm had compiled a small library of instructional manuals that he’d written over the years on safety, systems, weather and operations that lined the shelves of his navigation station. It was impressive stuff.

On a prerace haulout several months earlier, Hamm had determined that there was water in the rudder. The Hylas service office in Fort Lauderdale recommended the following course of action: Drain it and dry it, make sure there is no rust, and seal it all back up. 

“We followed their ­recommendations,” Hamm said after our adventure. “I am sure if there had been a concern on their part about the integrity of the rudder, they would have suggested we replace it. They never did hint about needing a replacement.”

So, off we went.

The forecast was favorable, if a bit sporty: light airs for the morning start, a building sea breeze in the afternoon, and then a strong easterly filling in just before midnight. It all unfolded precisely as predicted. The conditions couldn’t really have been better, and we were all looking forward to a sleigh ride of a port-tack power reach all the way to Mexico. 

Which is what everyone else got to enjoy. In fact, new race speed records were established in the Racer/Cruiser and Multihull divisions.

We, in an instant, had no steerage. 

I put the autopilot on standby, took the wheel, and tried to get us back on course. It required a bit of effort to do so, after which I switched the self-steering back on. 

Seconds later, Split Decision again spun out of control. “You’d better get your brother up,” I told Chris. 

Hamm had no better luck than I did. 

Now what? It was 140 nautical miles to Key West, 91 to Charlotte Harbor and 108 to the Manatee River, just outside the entrance to Tampa Bay. The problem was, they were all to varying degrees upwind, and if we couldn’t get on top of the situation, we were going to get blown to Texas.

Luckily, we had a brand-new Starlink unit aboard, and crewman Christian Bergstrom took over as comms officer. His first call was to the event organizers. Our race was officially over.

Next, he reached out to all the various commercial towing outfits along the coast, none of which were interested in heading offshore in sketchy weather and a small-craft warning. 

He then contacted the US Coast Guard to apprise them of our situation, and received an offer to send a helicopter to snatch us off, which of course wasn’t an actual option. But they also said they’d send out a boat to tow us in the final miles if we still had steering issues as we approached the shoreline. That was much appreciated. The Manatee River made the most sense, so we swapped the genoa for the staysail and (sort of) pointed Split Decision’s bow in that general direction. 

We collectively surmised that the rudder cables had jumped the quadrant, which was, unfortunately, under the big berth in the aft cabin. Tearing everything apart to have a look in a somewhat violent seaway was in nobody’s interest. Instead, Hamm dug out and set up the emergency tiller, then led a pair of lines to the cockpit winches. 

At this stage, I was back on the wheel and could more or less scribe a wandering course some 30 to 40 degrees left or right of where we actually wished to go. It was maddening, to say the least. Chris set himself up alongside the winch, and when I really lost it, he’d give a quick, sharp tug on the emergency tiller to give me a bit of control. To be honest, it was more akin to sculling than steering, but at least we were heading home. 

It was now pretty apparent that it wasn’t a quadrant issue, but that we’d lost a good portion of the rudder. 

This went on for many, many, many hours.

It was after midnight as we motorsailed the final miles to Tampa Bay. It turned out that upping the rpm gave us better steerage, but there was no way we could directly drive into the Manatee River anchorage. Bergstrom had been in regular contact with the Coast Guard, and true to their word, they sent out a big RIB with a professional crew to tow us the final miles. The tariff? A full inspection once the hook was down. Of course, Split Decision passed with flying colors. After that, at 0300, a bottle of rum made a welcome appearance. 

A while later, Hamm’s curiosity got the better of him, and he plunged into the river to have a look. Which is when he discovered that most of the rudder was missing. I still can’t believe that I didn’t feel or hear anything at the time, basically perched right above the thing. A mystery, indeed. 

Naval architect Gerry Douglas is a mutual friend of Hamm’s and mine, and had hooked me up with Split Decision in the first place. In his former role as chief designer at Catalina Yachts, he’d been especially interested in the hows and whys of rudder failures. When I checked in with him after the race, he was interested in learning more.

Several weeks later, Hamm sent me this update: “Gerry and I met at the boat, and two items came out of that meeting. One was [that] the large 5-inch stainless reinforcement did not appear to be 316 stainless as specified on the drawings from the designer. We think it was stainless, but some lower grade (maybe 304), because when we applied a large magnet to it, there was a small attraction, which would never happen with 316 stainless. The rudder shaft is 316 and had no attraction to the magnet. Gerry’s theory is that the rudder was weakened by water intrusion. He believes once a rudder has water in it, it will get water in it again and it will have some level of weakening due to corrosion. I am not sure if that was or was not a contributing factor on my rudder failure.   

“When the boat was pulled out of the water, the reinforcement stainless was very clean, and was bent and twisted. It now has a little bit of surface rust after being out of the water for five weeks. FYI, upon closer inspection, we found streaks which removed bottom paint and dug lightly into the bulb on the bottom of the keel. With the new bottom job just a few weeks before the race, there should have been no streaks in the paint. Speculation by some of the crew is that we may have hit a net of some kind that dragged under the keel and then hung on the rudder, causing it to break. Who really knows? Lots of speculation here!”

All I do know is that I never got to sip that first cold Corona on a beach near Cancún. I ended up back home with just another sea story and a sad case of the lost rudder blues.

The post Lost Rudder Blues appeared first on Cruising World.

Two teaspoons. Just 2 teaspoons of seawater can ruin your engine forever. That’s why I pay ­careful attention to my exhaust system, particularly pre- and post-gale. 

It doesn’t matter if we’re on the way to New Zealand or heading across the Indian Ocean or rounding the Cape of Good Hope—I run my engine for an hour or two. Why? To dry it, its wires and my entire engine room. To get all its bearings lubricated (an engine that was run yesterday cranks quicker, easier and with less electrical drain than one that hasn’t run for 10 days). To monitor its operation and gauges so that I know it will crank if needed. And to ensure that my battery banks are fully charged and operational. 

It’s not enough that my engine functions in calm and moderate conditions. I sail in the Pacific Islands. I cross the Atlantic. I’ve been in gales while crossing the Gulf Stream. I want my boat and all its gear to be ready for any condition that it might realistically encounter. This takes hard work and continual attention to detail. 

Example: Most of us world cruisers have a wet exhaust system. My exhaust hose is 3 inches coming out of my Perkins M92B diesel. To lower backpressure, it’s also 4 inches coming out of my wet muffler and exiting my hull. This means that a small cat could swim up to my exhaust port, crawl into it, swim through my muffler, and end up pawing at my cylinder ports inside my manifold. 

My point is, that’s a fairly large hole. That hole is always fully open as I circumnavigate. And if 2 measly teaspoons of seawater manage to make the same journey as that cat, I don’t have an engine and I’m financially sunk. 

I know, I know, we blow-boaters don’t like to think about stuff like this. We prefer to pray, chant, burn incense, and hold seances over our engines instead of maintaining them. But we must stay reality-based if we want our gear to work under adverse conditions. 

A wet muffler is called wet because it mixes raw (sea) water with exhaust gases as the engine runs. Big mufflers cost more than small ones. Space is at a premium in most engine compartments, and unrequired weight on a sailing yacht is a no-no. Thus, many production boats come with minimal-size wet mufflers. 

Now, if your muffler and exhaust hose are directly in the middle of your boat, when you stop your diesel, the water in the short intake hose and the longer exit hose drains back into the muffler. This is a lot of water. But, truth be known, your muffler probably isn’t on the centerline. Neither is your exhaust hose, nor your exhaust port through-hull. And let’s not forget that your boat heels. Occasionally, it heels a lot. You might be motorsailing and shut off your engine as the breeze puffs up. The result will be much more water in your wet exhaust than normal. 

My Wauquiez 43, for example, exhausts amidships on its starboard side. I’ve had this setup for 40-plus years. If I’m on port tack, that huge, long, 4-inch hose drains quickly. Alas, exactly the opposite happens on starboard tack. If I’m rail down, that hose contains much water that might overfill my wet exhaust more than my designer, builder and mechanical propulsion engineer would prefer. After all, they design these things in warm, safe, dry offices, and I occasionally use them in 28-foot seas off the coast of Africa when a sou’westerly bluster opposes the Agulhas current. 

Now, running downwind in mature breaking sea while lying to a Jordan Series Drogue results in a fair amount of corkscrewing. And streaming a Para-Tech sea anchor under the same conditions guarantees an extreme hobbyhorse effect. 

And, while I never sail for long at more than 45 degrees angle of heel—usually far, far less—I do heave-to with my lee toe rail awash for days on end. 

The result is that I have a brimming pot of sloshing salt water just a foot below my engine’s open, 3-inch exhaust manifold—while large, breaking seas are picking up my boat and violently tossing it around. 

This, dear reader, is why so many engines don’t crank up a week after a gale: because 2 teaspoons (or 2 gallons) of seawater managed to work its way into the cylinders. 

Remember: The waves hitting a vessel during a mature gale weigh tons. And, occasionally, the boat gets almost airborne and then smashed down onto the water (with a force of over 15 tons, in Ganesh’s case). The spray in a 45-knot gale is traveling at 45 knots. Think “fire hose” in terms of force and speed.

And there I am aboard a boat with a hole in it that a cat can crawl through. Hell, it’s a miracle that my engine survives any gale.

There’s another consideration—this time on the cooling side of the equation, not the exhaust. Raw water comes in via a through-hull, passes through a strainer, goes to the raw-water pump, the heat exchanger and perhaps the oil cooler, and then makes a long loop upward. There, at its apex, resides a siphon break before it heads down and joins the exhaust gases just aft on the exhaust manifold. 

The above process requires dozens of hoses, hose clamps and gizmos for an engine to run. If its siphon break doesn’t open, then the engine back-­siphons and drowns. 

Now, a number of times during a full gale, I’ve opened my engine room, turned on the light, and watched. There’s a lot of dynamic force involved despite the engine not running. The engine sways on its bed. Hoses, wires and fuel lines chafe. Generally, it’s an extremely damp environment. All recreational boats leak during gales (with the exception of steel yachts sans any openings, something I’ve personally never witnessed).

What to do? Well, probably the best, most practical advice is to do nothing unless you’re a storm-strutter or plan to sail in the high latitudes. 

Some offshore boats have shut-offs on both the raw-water intake side and the exhaust side. Skippers simply close these as the wind gusts to 40 knots. I don’t recommend this because I’ve unexpectedly used my engine a number of times during gales when caught back, when something is jammed, and I need to remove the force ASAP so that I don’t lose the rig, or to avoid collision with another vessel. And, of course, we might need our engine during, God forbid, a person-overboard situation. 

All offshore sailors parse these details differently depending on their concern level. I installed a drain plug in the bottom of my wet muffler and a Gen-Sep under my deck between the wet muffler and the exhaust through-hull before heading across the Indian Ocean. Overkill? Probably. 

One thing we can all do without much effort is run our engine immediately after the gale abates. I first check the lube oil to make sure it’s not milky. Next, I listen as I crank it up. If it is slower, quieter or takes more time to crank, that’s a bad sign. The engine may have gotten wet inside. However, I pat myself on the back for having saved the engine by cranking it up well before it needed to be rebuilt or replaced. I then run it for a while to dry things out. 

Of course, if your vessel rolls 360 degrees, then all the water in your wet exhaust is going to flow into your engine almost immediately. This doesn’t happen often; however, I’ve talked to seven cruising sailors who have rolled their vessels during my 64 years of living aboard and ocean sailing. Yes, I would have spoken to more, but those unfortunates are no longer around to chat. 

And the sobering truth is that we offshore sailors not only want to be able to survive if our vessel rolls 360 degrees, but we also want our expensive diesel engines to survive as well. 

Am I paranoid? Of course, I’m paranoid. That’s why I’m alive and dry and on my fourth circumnavigation at age 72. Because I sweat these details. 

Numerous production boats that sail across the Pacific end up having engine problems on their way down to, say, New Zealand. This is because, during that notoriously rough passage, they sail through their first real kick-ass gale, and it reveals previously unknown flaws in their exhaust system. 

My exhaust guru is a man named “Diesel Dan” Durban. He helped write the excellent Please Don’t Drown Me booklet that Northern Lights published. He writes: “Just because your exhaust system hasn’t leaked yet doesn’t mean that it won’t in the future—given an extreme set of circumstances.” 

True. 

Now, the reason I write this column, dear reader, isn’t to needlessly scare you, but rather to expose you to the engineering considerations of one of your vessel’s most vital components: its mechanical propulsion unit. These problems aren’t theoretical. They’re practical, everyday considerations for offshore sailors, be they conservative fair-­weather sailors or the more ­thrill-seeking storm-strutters. 

Here’s the truth: The vast majority of premature marine diesel engine failures are directly related to improper exhaust engineering. 

Forewarned is forearmed.

The post Gale-Force Diesel Maintenance appeared first on Cruising World.

We’re currently at sea, with more than a thousand nautical miles from Hawai’i behind us, and more than a thousand ahead of us to our destination: Majuro, Marshall Islands. So far, this passage has reminded us how less-tangible skills can be as important to cruising as those you can learn in a seminar or class. Among the most useful of these skills is listening—not as in listening to your partner, co-captain or crew (although that’s important, too), rather, listening to your boat. It’s often trying to tell you something. For an explainer on this, jump to the video.

Years of learning Totem’s creaks and groans were put into practice this week. Jamie and I departed from Kona, Hawai’i on Monday, September 9, bound for the Marshall Islands. On our third day at sea, sailing downwind, wing-on-wing, in trade-wind conditions, we were bewildered by a mystery clunk from the rudder. We have always been aware of a “light” clunk, from the upper bearing at deck level, but this was a different sound. Different, in this situation, on a converging path with unsettling weather in the forecast, was not good.

Worst-Case Scenario

Rudder failure has the potential to be sudden and catastrophic. We imagined possibilities, thinking about “sound, bluewater boats” with capable crews who have had rapid, disastrous outcomes from rudder failure. Feeding our concern was that, some years ago, a sistership to Totem had a serious potential rudder problem. Heavy bronze bolts securing the bronze skeg to fiberglass began backing out. They were able to resolve it, but as we were underway gliding over the ocean floor 16,000 feet below, we couldn’t assess our clunk underway.

Anatomy of Totem’s Rudder

Totem‘s rudder has three bearings. The highest is at deck level. Below that, a second bearing lies where the rudder post passes through the hull at the bottom of the boat. These first two can be inspected to varying degrees from the lazarette while at sea. The third bearing is a gudgeon and pintle mechanism midway up the rudder securing it to the top of the bronze skeg. Halfway across the Pacific, this bearing could only be inspected with a swim.

The deck-level inspection we were able to conduct at sea gave us no cause for concern. The origin of the clunk must be coming from somewhere that we could only inspect by getting in the water, which wasn’t safe with 1.5-meter wind waves, plus a 2- to 3-meter (and occasionally 4- meter) swell from the north.

An Unplanned Pit Stop

As we considered our options, an interesting one emerged: a small, remote atoll that was 300 nm west of Totem at the time. With our onboard broadband from Starlink, we researched this option further, only to discover that “Johnston Atoll,” while a US territory, does not welcome visitors. It’s a military site, a former nuclear testing location, and a site used to incinerate and dump weapons. For the last couple of decades, it has also been a wildlife refuge managed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. 

Nonetheless, I sent an email with fingers crossed and a queasy stomach. To our astonishment, within a matter of hours, we had traded several emails with the F&WS management, while looping in the US Coast Guard’s Joint Rescue Coordination Center (JRCC) in Honolulu to document the situation.

Were we prepared to declare an emergency? While establishing our needs, yet making it clear that we did not want any resources to be expended on our behalf, permission was granted for us to anchor for our inspection and any repairs that might be necessary. We received the official green light around midnight, and we waited for the relative safety of dawn to alter course with a gybe toward the atoll.

Inspecting the Rudder

We arrived at dusk—a move made possible courtesy of the arrow-straight, 500-foot wide channel blasted through coral by the military. We anchored and waited for the next morning to inspect the rudder. Once in the water Jamie was able reproduce the clunk. The lower bearing has play enough that slight rudder flex was enabling the pintle to bang against the gudgeon/bearing. Closer inspection revealed nothing bad. The skeg was as stout as when it was new (42 years ago). Although the play is new, roughly 3/16”, the hardware looked perfect. We found no compromised rudder integrity, but would rely on a second inspection to be sure.

The Source of the Clunk

Nearly 5,000 nm have passed under Totem’s keel since splashing last December. This sound did not occur across that time period. So, why now? What changed?

Chief among Jamie’s concerns, despite the good initial inspection, was the construction of the rudder post. If the rudder post was one long rode section linking in the skeg at the bottom, then we had a problem. The excess play wouldn’t have been possible unless internal metal structure was coming apart. We spent hours poring over photos of the rudder and skeg, mainly from when they were removed in Thailand for inspection. That was a project, in Thailand, with somewhat dramatic fashion.

Photos showed what memory had forgotten: that the rudder post didn’t exit through the lower bearing. Instead a short stainless post, a pintle, meant the play was okay and not a sign of internal problems. We suspect Totem’s very DDW point of sail, which put multiple directional forces on the rudder compared to other points of sail, pushed and shoved the rudder around, making the clunk sound. We communicated findings back to the F&WS team and to the JRCC Honolulu, who at this time were looping in folks from the US Air Force and applying pressure for us move along as soon as possible.

Johnston Atoll: Wild, Mysterious

If we had to assign a single word to Johnston Atoll, it would be “creepy.” (Not how one typically describes a remote tropical island!) Reading the atoll’s history may be exciting for some, but the legacy is sobering. Bunkers scattered around islets, concrete bulkheads around all the land we could see, a concrete block of a building we assume is where chemical weapons were incinerated, and not a sign of living human presence. 

The cacophony of seabirds, which seemed to occupy every scrap of land, counterbalanced the darkly morbid shadows cast by the military legacy. The boobies, especially, provided some entertainment as they perched fearlessly near us around Totem. 

The terms of our stay were very clear: There was to be no exploring. We were prohibited from going ashore, and we could not swim—other than what was required immediately adjacent to Totem to inspect the rudder. No problem! Yet, while we did not go to the wildlife, the wildlife (or the birds, at least—marine life was minimal) came to us. At any moment, as many as a dozen boobies sat happily pooping away on our solar panels. (Another aerial assault at Johnston Atoll perhaps?) They gathered on our bow pulpit in groups of five, and even hung off the snubber line, watching our every move.

The sheer density of birds offered a reminder of just how important it was to restrict our movement, to prevent anything we might inadvertently bring to their delicate environment. The red-tailed tropicbird population was devastated here after ants (ants?) infested their nesting grounds. How easy is it for ships to introduce a pest? It was no problem for us to remain happily aboard our floating island, Totem, simply grateful to be here and find resolution. (For more about the crazy ants (yes, that’s what they’re called), check out this article from F&WS on the many years required to address their threat. Also, click over to this beautifully photographed article from the Audubon society).

Departing Johnston Atoll

Getting away was the next trick. (Ideally, we’d have departed immediately!) I was keen to arrive in Majuro for a multi-day festival the following week, during a public holiday, Manit Day, that celebrates Marshallese culture. If we carried on right away, we might still have made a day or two of the festivities.

Unfortunately, the weather for departing was, in a word, unsettled. After watching mostly benign conditions in this part of the Pacific for the month prior to leaving Hawai’i, volatile conditions from the ITCZ moved tropical waves toward our location and threatened to spin up into more severe weather.

We wanted to get away. We definitely didn’t want to be in a system turning cyclonic with 45 knot winds and potential stronger microbursts. We put this short video together to illustrate. Weather watchers might learn from how Jamie’s reviewing a combination of wind, rain and satellite imagery to determine when we could safely carry on. Friends and followers may understand the personal relating of this wild experience.

Next Stop: Majuro

We departed again the morning of September 19th, literally watching at anchor for the winds from a nearby system to move past our location and open up a safe window for us to carry on. We’ll miss the festival in Majuro, but we’ve regained confidence in our rudder.

Want to follow along?

Totem’s PredictWind tracking page includes data about current weather conditions. Noforeignland users can see our circumnav track here. 

Join us at the Annapolis Boat Show in October

We’ll be flying from Majuro to Annapolis for the annual sailboat show. Our departure will be only days after we make landfall. Hopefully, the 30ish hours of travel will feel like a cakewalk after this passage. Meanwhile, we’re excited to be teaching a range of courses, details below. Please join us if you’re coming to the show. Note: Pre-registration is required, and seats are limited. (At least one course is already sold out.)

American Sailing Association seminar, Oct. 11

How to Sail Around the World: No boat show ticket required to join our afternoon, half-day seminar with the ASA. Insights, inspiration, and the toolkit you need to plan your own successful, long-distance cruising adventures.

Cruisers University seminars, Oct. 7-10

• Becoming a Cruiser: Together, we break down the massive project which is “how to go cruising.” Think of this as the best of our coaching work condensed into a packed day to get you launched and comfortably on your way.
• Sail Inventory and Care: Jamie gets hands-on with sails! Practical information to care for (and save money with) your boat’s sails
• She’s a Cruiser (Master Class): Behan presents in collaboration with two other cruisers, Nica Waters and Liz Shaw, this program is just for women, with concrete actions and intangible essentials. Guest speakers lending their wisdom include Lin Pardey, Sheryl Shard, Mia Karlsson, Sophie Darsy, and Hilary Howes
• Basics of Fiberglass Repair: Jamie will detail materials, basics of fiberglass work every cruiser should know, demonstrate live, and let you get hands on to try the methods and mixing as well. (this class is now sold out)
• Route Planning: careful route planning leads to safe and comfortable passages: learn the tools and method from Jamie!
• Safety at Sea: Jamie uses examples and tools to help you avoid being an UNsafe boat

Take the Wheel, Oct 11-13

This flagship Annapolis Boat Show program is divided between a morning in the classroom and an afternoon on the water. We lead the classroom portion, and discuss sailboat design (features, tradeoffs, and bluewater myths), purchase process, how to maximize your boating pleasure, and budget planning for setting sail.

The post Sailing <i>Totem</i>: A Mystery Clunk and a Mid-Pacific Pit Stop appeared first on Cruising World.

Not long ago, I inspected a vessel under construction and was pleased to see that the builder had made the holding tank from fiberglass (also known as fiberglass-­reinforced plastic, or FRP). Essentially, it was fabricated with the same materials and techniques as the hull, which relied on a solid laminate and vinylester resin. FRP tanks, if manufactured correctly, can last the life of the vessel. On this boat, all plumbing fittings were reinforced nylon, another excellent choice that is impervious to the corrosive effects of effluent.

However, the installation’s design went awry when it came to design and hoses. The discharge fitting was installed on the tank’s bottom, ostensibly to harness gravity but in reality ensuring that the hose connected to that fitting would always be filled with effluent. The tank’s bottom fitting also lacked a valve, making hose replacement a difficult, unpleasant job.  

Fittings located anywhere other than the tank top are an invitation to leakage. All holding-­tank plumbing fittings should be glass-reinforced nylon, FRP, PVC schedule 80 or bronze. Under no circumstances should stainless steel, regardless of the alloy, be used for conveyance or containment of effluent. As durable as it might be in weather-deck applications, it is susceptible to crevice corrosion when exposed to stagnant, oxygen-depleted water and effluent.    

Ideally, sanitation-system hoses should be arranged to avoid entrapment of effluent. They should be sloped to ensure drainage. Where traps can’t be avoided, hard PVC pipe can be used because it is impervious to permeation and odor. Where PVC pipe transitions to hose, ­purpose-made barbed PVC pipe adapters should be used, rather than slipping hose directly over smooth pipe sections.

The hose used for holding-tank vent plumbing should carry the same rating as hose used for conveyance of liquid effluent. Most manufacturers of PVC sanitation hose (which has a smooth, shiny appearance) prohibit the use of solvents and alcohol, which include nontoxic antifreeze used for winterizing. If your vessel lives in a seasonally subfreezing climate and it gets winterized, then the sanitation hose should be EPDM-based, which is black or white and rubberlike. Or you must avoid the use of antifreeze. While EPDM hose is stiffer and harder to install, and typically more costly than PVC-based hose, it might be worth it. Some brands offer as much as a 10-year no-permeation warranty, and it carries no restrictions on chemical exposure.

Holding-tank vents (there should be two) should be large, at least three-quarters of an inch, but 1.5-inch is ideal, with one plumbed to each side of the vessel’s hull. This setup will facilitate cross ventilation through the tank, ­discouraging the formation of anaerobic ­bacteria that produce the foulest odors.  

The tank on the new build that I saw did have two more appealing details: an inspection and clean-out port, and a removable pickup or drop tube for the deck pump-out. Holding tanks—and all tanks, for that matter—should have access ports for interior cleaning. Ideally, removable drop tubes are made from PVC. They let the user clear a clog, or replace the tube should it become dislodged or perforated.

Steve D’Antonio offers services for boat owners and buyers through Steve D’Antonio Marine Consulting.

The post Blackwater Wisdom for Holding Tanks appeared first on Cruising World.

If you are planning to do any cruising that takes you away from your dock or mooring for even a single overnight, there are five things that you simply must know how to do on your diesel engine.

1. Replace the Fuel Filter

Diesel fuel is prone to contamination and water accumulation, especially in the marine environment. Diesel fuel, unlike gasoline, can actually support microbial growth, often incorrectly referred to as algae. That black slime is a microscopic goo of “bugs” that can thrive in a boat’s fuel tank. Typically, they live right at the line where water in the fuel and the fuel itself meets. 

The water will always settle to the bottom of a filter assembly. It is imperative that a diesel engine be equipped with two fuel filters: a primary and a secondary. You need to know how to service these filters when the worst happens, should they become waterlogged or clogged with contaminants. 

Filter elements are among the mandatory spares you need to keep on board. I highly recommend the Racor brand, preferably those equipped with a water alarm system, as primary filters. These have a clear fuel bowl that lets you actually see water and/or contamination in the fuel. This is a major improvement over the solid metal filter housings that are typical as secondary filters with diesel engines. 

Swapping out these fuel-­filter elements is easy. You’ll need the correct size spanner wrench to loosen the single nut that holds the element into its housing. You’ll also need a drip pan to catch fuel that spills as you remove the filter housing assembly. 

Make sure to replace the sealing gasket at the top of the filter housing assembly. Also make sure the new filter is a match for the one you are replacing. These are rated in micron size. Typical micron ratings are 5, 10 or 20, but they could be as small as 2 microns for the secondary filter. 

Once reassembled, your filter assembly will be full of air. This is going to need to be bled out before running the engine. 

2. Bleed the Fuel System

Air in your engine’s fuel system will occur when you replace your fuel filters, or if you run out of fuel in your tank. Either way, you are going to need to bleed the air out of your fuel system. 

The method will vary depending upon the type of primary fuel pump. It gets the fuel from your tank to the engine.

If your boat has an ­electric pump, things will be easy. Simply crack open the fuel line that connects to the high-pressure injection pump on your engine, and then turn on the electric pump. Once you see fuel spitting out of the fuel-line connection, tighten the nut. Next, go to the engine’s fuel injectors and crack open the hex nut on the fuel line at the injector farthest from the injection pump. Tighten the connection when you see fuel spitting out of the line at the injector. Repeat this process on each fuel line, moving to the closest to the ­high-pressure injection pump. 

If your engine has a ­mechanical primary fuel pump, then it will most likely have a small lever to let you activate the pump manually. Once all the air is bled out of the system, the engine should start up as normal. 

One extremely important exception is if you have a newer electronic common rail injection system. Never, ever attempt to bleed these ­systems. They are self-­bleeding, and they run at extremely high pressures that will cause personal injury if fuel sprays you.

3. Replace the ­Water-Pump ­Impeller

Add to your minimum spare parts list a raw-water pump impeller and cover gasket. 

If you maintain your boat religiously, then you will rarely have to replace this impeller on an emergency basis. I replace the impeller on my boat every two boating seasons and have never had one fail. That said, it does happen, and replacement intervals will be dictated more by engine run time versus monthly intervals. 

A clogged seawater ­strainer in the line that supplies water to the pump could cause an emergency failure. The impeller is made of rubber and is self-lubricated by this seawater. No water means no lubricant for the impeller, and premature failure will ­happen. It’s always best to follow your engine manufacturer’s recommendations as to service intervals. 

To replace the impeller, remove the screws holding the pump housing cover. Typically, you’ll find a super-thin cover gasket. This will need to be replaced. 

The rubber impeller can now be removed. Typically, prying it out with a pair of small screwdrivers will do the trick in sliding the rubber impeller off its driveshaft. A plethora of YouTube videos demonstrate how to service a raw-water pump. I recommend viewing several before you attempt this task.

4. Change the Engine Oil and Filter

Your engine manufacturer will specify change frequencies, along with oil type (American Petroleum Institute rating) and viscosity levels. It is imperative to use only the ­viscosity and API service rating recommended. Not all 30W oil is the same. 

Even though your engine may have a conventional drain plug at the low point of the engine sump, in most marine installations, you won’t be able to access it effectively with a drain pan to catch the old oil as it drains out. So, the most common approach is to draw the old oil out of the engine through the dipstick hole. West Marine offers pump kits ranging from about $45 to $200, depending on how fancy you want to get. 

Run your engine to warm things up before you begin the oil-change process. It’ll make things much easier because it will thin out the oil a bit.

Oil filters today are by and large of the spin-on variety. You might want to acquire an appropriately sized filter wrench to help with removal. Depending on the filter’s location on your engine, you might need a small catch basin to collect oil that leaks out as you remove the filter element. 

Once it’s off, double-check to be certain that the gasket seal for the filter came off with the filter. The seal can stick on the engine. Remove it if it did remain in place. 

Next, apply some oil on the gasket on the new filter, and screw it onto the engine. Hand-tighten only. Don’t ever use the filter wrench to tighten the new filter.

Next, insert the thin tube that came with the new oil-change pump into the dipstick hole on your engine until it bottoms out. Activate the pump (electric or manual), and suck the oil out of your engine.

Once all the old oil is removed, add the new oil in the amount specified in your engine manual. Start the engine, and look for any sign of leaking at the filter. Then shut down the engine and recheck the oil level. 

5. Shut Down a Runaway Diesel

Although rare, having a “runaway” diesel is a terrifying experience for the uninitiated. You shut off all the engine controls, but your engine continues to run at full speed. 

A number of things can cause this: excessive oil consumption that leads to oil accumulation in the combustion chamber, crankcase oil vapor entering the combustion chamber, turbocharger failure, damaged turbo seals, and fuel-system faults.

The good news is that all of this is unlikely on fairly new, well-maintained engines. But there are plenty of 20-year-old diesels in service today, and they are vulnerable. 

Your diesel needs three things to run: air, fuel and compression. To stop a runaway, remove the easiest thing on that list to eliminate: air. Most diesels have some sort of an air breather protecting the air intake on the engine. It looks like an air cleaner on most engines but might not have a filter element installed. (Air filters are pretty useless at sea, where there’s not a lot of dust flying about.) 

Keep a small block of wood on board that will give you a handhold, and block the air intake on the engine. Hold it in place, being careful to keep any and all body parts away from the air-intake hole. The suction will be extreme. 

Expect the engine to continue running for a few minutes, depending on the size of the air-intake manifold. Eventually, the engine will smother itself and shut down. Then comes the hard work: finding the exact cause of the runaway.

The post 5 DIY Basics For Your Diesel Engine appeared first on Cruising World.

Sailboats are revered for their eco-friendliness and the poetic dance with the wind that propels them forward. However, when it comes to auxiliary power, the debate about diesel ­engines and electric ­conversion has sparked considerable interest. 

Here we’ll shed light on the times when sticking with an ol’ diesel might be a better choice than an electric conversion.

Energy Density and Range

One of the primary reasons that diesel engines can be more efficient on sailboats is their high energy density. Diesel fuel packs significantly more energy per unit of volume compared with batteries used in electric propulsion systems. This high energy density translates to longer range and reduced refueling stops, making the engine more suitable for extended voyages, or for times when access to charging points is limited. 

Modern diesel engines are designed to be fuel-efficient, providing better mileage per gallon of fuel compared with older models. Even by keeping older diesel engines well-­maintained, you maximize the efficiency, thereby reducing fuel consumption and ­greenhouse gas emissions. 

(Note that if you are using a gas-powered generator to supplement your power needs on the hook, you are potentially canceling out your sustainable efforts by going electric, and will also be carrying a highly flammable substance aboard.)

Simplicity and Reliability

Diesel engines have a long-standing reputation for simplicity and reliability. They are time-tested, proven workhorses that require minimal maintenance and troubleshooting expertise. When a diesel engine experiences a problem, the diagnostics can be more straightforward compared with electric ­powertrains. Traditional mechanical issues, such as fuel-delivery problems or air-intake issues, are often easier to identify and address. Additionally, many components within a diesel engine can be repaired or rebuilt, such as fuel injectors, pumps, and turbochargers. This reduces the need for complete ­replacements, ­making repairs more ­cost-effective in many cases.

On the other hand, electric engines are continually improving, including becoming more serviceable. As electric vehicles gain popularity, mechanics are gaining experience in dealing with electric powertrains, and specialized training programs are more widespread. As a result, electric engines might become easier to work on in the future.

Weight and Space Considerations

For sailboats, weight is a crucial factor that affects performance. Diesel engines, in general, are more compact and lighter compared with electric propulsion systems, particularly when considering the weight of batteries required for electric conversion. The added weight of batteries can alter the boat’s balance and potentially affect its sailing characteristics. 

Sailors with smaller boats, or those seeking optimal performance, might find diesel engines a more suitable option because of their space-­saving and lightweight nature. However, if you are able to compensate for the weight and space necessary to support an electric conversion without compromising your sailing efficiency, then electric might be the avenue for you.

Cost 

Diesel engines remain relatively more affordable upfront, especially for retrofitting an existing sailboat. Purchasing and installing a diesel engine is generally less expensive than acquiring the necessary components for an electric conversion, including batteries, motors, controllers, and charging infrastructure. Batteries constitute a significant portion of the cost in electric conversions. Over time, batteries might require replacement, and this expense can be substantial.

Additionally, the cost of maintaining and repairing diesel engines can be lower because of their simplicity and the wide availability of spare parts and skilled mechanics.

However, the cost ­dynamics of electric propulsion systems are evolving rapidly. The increasing focus on environmental concerns and sustainability might lead to advancements and ­incentives that further ­promote the adoption of onboard electric ­propulsion.

Sustainability

Sustainability is the hottest topic within this debate. While electric propulsion is undoubtedly a more sustainable option, maintaining an old diesel engine on a sailboat can be a responsible environmental choice in certain scenarios. 

Producing new electric propulsion systems, especially batteries, requires significant amounts of raw materials and energy. This process can contribute to a larger initial environmental footprint. Replacing a functional diesel engine with an electric propulsion system also generates waste, including disposal of the old engine.

Battery disposal can present environmental challenges. By sticking with a diesel engine, you avoid the potential issues associated with battery recycling. And, if the electricity used to charge the batteries primarily comes from ­nonrenewable sources, such as coal or natural gas, then the overall environmental benefit might be diminished compared with a well-maintained diesel engine.

The Choice Is Yours

The right option ultimately boils down to individual preferences, usage patterns and environmental considerations. Electric propulsion is undoubtedly a more sustainable option for the future of sailing and is likely to become more competitive with diesels in terms of efficiency and range, but for now, both options offer distinct advantages, and the decision rests with each sailor’s ­circumstances. —Marissa Neely

Marissa Neely has lived aboard her 1979 Cheoy Lee 41, Avocet, with her husband, Chris, since they bought the boat in 2018. Follow them on YouTube at “Sailing Avocet,” or go to ­svavocet.com.

The post Unraveling Efficiency: Diesel vs. Electric Propulsion appeared first on Cruising World.

Many boat owners are surprised to learn that shaft bearings, also called cutless bearings, are lubricated with nothing but seawater. Without its regular flow, the bearing and shaft can wear rapidly.

Most conventional bearings and bushings are made from relatively hard substances—some type of metal, from brass to steel—and are oil-lubricated. Shaft bearings, however, are almost exclusively made from rubber that is lubricated with seawater. The design, at least for DuraMax products, incorporates a few features that yield this surprising longevity.  

The outer shell of the bearing is most often made from brass (not bronze), although bearings are available with a nonmetallic shell for use on aluminum and steel vessels.  

The rubber, which is of the especially durable and oil-resistant nitrile variety, is flexible, so the bearing lands deform slightly when the shaft turns. This enables a water wedge to form between the bearing and the shaft, making for extremely low friction and wear. 

Additionally, the soft surface is able to “absorb” grit and dirt until it can be flushed through the valleys between the lands. 

Unlike hard bearings, rubber shaft bearings almost never fail catastrophically. Bearing life varies depending on several factors, but I’ve encountered bearings that were still within tolerances after 1,000 hours of use.

Even still, shaft bearings can fail prematurely if they are starved of their lubricating lifeblood: water. This can occur if a sacrificial anode is installed too close to the leading edge of a strut. For planing power vessels, the general rule is no less than a foot of clearance between anode and bearing. For sailing and displacement craft, 6 inches is plenty.

If the anode loosens and slides aft on the shaft, that can also block water flow.  Barnacles and other marine growth, as well as carelessly applied antifouling paint forward of the bearing, can also impede water flow.

Shaft bearings should be installed with a light press fit. No more than moderate effort should be required to push or pull a bearing into its bore. 

Sealant or epoxy should never be used to secure a bearing into place. If the gap between the bearing shell and the bore is too great, then a larger bearing shell can be turned down on a lathe to achieve the proper fit. Once the bearing is in place, it should be retained with set screws whose tips are pointed. These should “land” in dimples that have an angle that matches the screw tip, and that are drilled into, but not through, the bearing shell. 

While engine-to-shaft alignment is a process that is fairly well-understood in the marine industry, shaft alignment with shaft bearings often represents a bit of a gray area for many boatyards. The prop shaft and transmission output couplings must be centered and parallel, and the shaft must also be parallel with, and be centered in, the shaft bearing.

Getting both of these right represents a delicate balancing act, one that often fails to achieve the goal on the bearing side. If the shaft passes through the shaft bearing in a manner that is not parallel, then “pinching” can occur. This is evident when viewing either end of the bearing. A gap might exist on one side, say at 3 o’clock, while the bearing’s rubber is compressed at 9 o’clock (the gap and compression location will be reversed at the other end of the bearing). Such a scenario leads to accelerated bearing and shaft wear because the shaft is unable to “float” on the water wedges, and because of vibration. Aligning a shaft with a bearing often requires adjustment of the strut or keel bearing carrier.

Finally, shaft bearings can occasionally suffer from swelling. This occurs when a hygroscopic (and thus incorrect) rubber bearing material is used. In extreme cases, it can cause the shaft to be seized by the bearing. 

The proper clearance between shaft and bearings is detailed within the American Boat and Yacht Council’s Standard P-6, Propeller Shafting Systems, for shafts from ¾-inch to 4 inches. 

It is highly advisable to fit new bearings to shafts, and to check the clearance before installing them, because oversize and undersize bearings are not uncommon. 

Steve D’Antonio offers services for boat owners and buyers through Steve D’Antonio Marine Consulting.

The post Shaft Bearing Maintenance Tips appeared first on Cruising World.

Instead of cruising Alaska’s epic coastline, I once spent five interminable days in the port of Kodiak awaiting a replacement part for a failed windlass. As I sat there, unable to take advantage of the sunny days, I was reminded that many boaters fail to realize that electric windlasses have a maintenance schedule.

This schedule often includes partial disassembly, cleaning, inspection, and lubrication of the shafts and clutches. By far, most failures are the result of deferred maintenance and inspections. Familiarize yourself with the maintenance requirements for your make and model, and follow them.

For windlasses with oil-filled gearboxes, this includes checking the oil level, and checking the gearbox for oil leaks. If the oil is milky, then it’s contaminated with water, a problem that typically requires removal of the windlass and a rebuild, including the replacement of shaft seals. If your anchor rode creates a rainbow sheen on the water when it’s first deployed, then there’s a good chance your gearbox is leaking oil.

Beyond that, don’t assume that your windlass has been installed correctly just because it works, even if you purchased your vessel new. After you have reviewed the service requirements, look at the installation instructions, and then scrutinize your setup for deficiencies.  

Common installation errors involve mounting and fasteners. Most fiberglass vessels utilize a cored deck structure. Unless the builder anticipated the installation, wherever the core is penetrated, it must be removed and backfilled with thickened epoxy (this is called “core closeout”). Missing this step can lead to water ­penetrating the core and deteriorating the balsa or plywood. Even if the core is synthetic and rot-proof, it can be crushed where windlass fasteners pass through it, in turn weakening the deck structure.

These rules apply to the hole through which the chain passes, as well as to holes that are drilled for windlass mounting fasteners. The large chain hole must be properly closed out with solid fiberglass or thickened epoxy. In many cases, I encounter mere coats of polyester or epoxy resin, an approach that is woefully inadequate for any closeout, particularly when it must withstand abrasion from the anchor rode moving in and out of the chain locker. 

Most windlass manufacturers recommend using a backing plate to help distribute the load to the deck. This backing plate can be made from prefabricated fiberglass or epoxy sheet called GPO-3 or G10, stainless steel or aluminum, in that order of preference. Timber is less than ideal, and under no circumstances should it be a solid block, regardless of species, because it is prone to cracking. Backing plates should not be bedded; doing so can trap water in fastener holes, leading to crevice corrosion.  

Speaking of fasteners: Those used for windlass installations should be stainless-steel bolts, not threaded rod, with heads suitable for the windlass surface. This usually means hex-head cap screws. If the housing is painted aluminum, then ensure that the heads are bedded in sealant to prevent paint failure.  

It is imperative that the fasteners’ shank diameter matches that of the holes in the windlass frame. Undersize fasteners will allow a windlass to shift, and they lack the necessary tensile strength that the manufacturer anticipated.

Review the wiring—the high-current, big cables that supply the motor, and the low-current, small wires used for the controls. All ­positive post and ring terminal connections should be booted to prevent short circuits. Connections should be clean, tight and corrosion-free. If corrosion is present, then you must disassemble, clean and reassemble the connection, ideally using a conductive or dielectric grease. Also make certain that the holes in the ring terminals match the diameter of the studs or screws where they interface. Once the connections are complete, spray with corrosion inhibitor, and give the motor housing a coating as well.

Finally, if your windlass uses a stripper bar to separate the chain from the wildcat or chain wheel, ensure that it is not distorted and that it is centered in the wheel’s groove. —Steve D’Antonio

Steve D’Antonio offers services for boat owners and buyers through Steve D’Antonio Marine Consulting.

The post How to Keep Your Windlass Working For You appeared first on Cruising World.