"Houston, we have a problem"

Just when we thought things were getting back to normal after the storm another reminder of the cruising learning curve came and paid a visit.


I was working on the computer when it went down (inverter problem) followed quickly by the charging system going down (battery problem).  I was watching the battery bank amps visibly bleeding out, and voltages dropping.  Ack!  No problem, I'll just start the boat and charge things up.  Click - click.  No go.  Boat won't start.


Before explaining what  happened I'll give you the sage advice most long term cruisers have probably learned the hard way.  1) Don't mix battery types in a charging system (i.e. Lead acid and Gell cells).  2) Don't trust amp hour readings - only look at Voltages.


Those of you saying "Of course you do those things," well... you're in the club already.  Now so am I.


When we bought this boat, the previous owner Max was to install all new batteries in the battery bank, which he did.  Four good deep cycle lead acid 6 V Golf cart batteries, plus a 12 V Starter battery.  Check.  Trouble was, the starter was a Gell Cell battery - which he told me was a sealed lead acid - and not reading Spanish - I wasn't able to argue the point.  In retrospect - the "sealed" part should have been the give-away.


Anyway...  so the problem is that our regulator has been overcharging the Gell Cell's (they accept a lower voltage) - and so the the Gell Cell Starter battery had a electrolyte boil off.   The bad Starter dragged the rest of the house bank ( the other 4 batteries) down, and me... well I was watching the amp hours available (which is an imaginary number since it is based on voltage only - and your word that the battery capacity is "X" - presuming "X" is a good value like 400 amp hours.  If the capacity of the batteries has been degraded the Voltage will still show fully charged - but the capacity is minimal.  Yeah, like a fully charged tricycle.


So once we figured out our House Bank was dragged down - we had to bring it back to life.  We stuck it on a charger for three days, and brought the capacity back so every cell was in the green with the hygrometer - which checks the specific gravity of the acid in the cells.  Now we've isolated the starter (which is now a pretty gutless battery) and we are back in business.  Dodged a bullet.


We probably will get a proper lead-acid 12 Volt Starter batter to replace our crummy one - thanks Max.  Trouble is that here in New Zealand they start at about $350.00 - roughly 3 times the cost back home.  We may wait till we get to a cheaper place.  Not sure yet.  Gotta love import taxes here.


So all is well.  Pedestal is basically done - excepting some varnish.  We'll go into the dock soon to clean our water tank - an annual job.  We also have to do some sail maintenance, replace a broken batten on the main, and get a tang welded to strengthen it.  Coming along.  Seems like most boats here have a list about as long or longer.


Everyone's got a cold - snuffles and stuff.  Tamsyn even has a low fever - she usually dodges these things, but not this time.  Carrie's brother Tim has had some medical problems that we are all concerned about, and that's been a bit of a worry.  We're also trying to figure out where we will head when we leave NZ.  Cheers.


Owen

Calls in the Night, plus Chocolate Cake

March 17 - 23

The "storm" predictions broadcast as Securitee Warnings were caused by two systems converging. One coming up from the Tasman Sea (a high heading northwest) and another from the Pacific Ocean (a low heading Southeast). We would be in the squash zone. The winds predicted were up to 60 knots (a level 1 hurricane begins at 62 knots.) Again there was the calm before the wind. The day before the storm hit, the water around the boat was like glass, the air was too still and the moisture high. It felt muggy. All day as the radio warned. Owen and Griffyn watched the barometer fall. We cleared the cockpit, stowed things, brought our garbage to shore, and bought fresh food. The big drops fell steadily now. I wish we could put up the rain catcher!

We all took Meclazine (sea-sickness medicine) before bed. We called S/V Puddy Tat, S/V Kudana (and other friends) to let them know that we would have the VHF radio on all night. We wished them a safe night and would check-in in the morning. Around 11PM, we found a puddle on the navigation desk. Owen swore and I threw him a towel. Everything seemed to be wet. We quickly moved log books, tools, external drives, papers off the nav station. During all the repairs it had become a pile of miscellaneous parts and tools (in addition to the home for our main navigation computer.) I grabbed a bowl and we put it under the steady drip coming from the grab rail above the desk. (Over the next 36 hours we would collect more than 8 ounces of water from this leak.) The winds picked up around midnight. Owen turned on the wind speed indicator. It was blowing 20 plus knots. I went to bed alongside Griffyn in the V-berth. Owen would be on the settee until the storm passed. I don't know what time it was when I woke up with a stomach ache. The boat was whirling, the waves were huge - seconds of zero G. Madrona was pulled away from the anchor one direction, healing deeply then swung around and pulled the other direction again healing deeply. It's hard to sleep when your bed feels like a carnival ride without seat belts. I'm always glad to sleep with another body - a warm buffer from the cold damp walls of the V-berth. The winds howled loudly, the halliards swatted the mast. I felt anxious, sweaty and a little scared. I looked out at Owen. He was prone on the settee. 

I couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. He had set two anchor alarms and a watch alarm to go off every 15 minutes all night so he could check our position, the wind speed, listen for problems and look at our neighbors. I didn't want to wake him. I got up and took 1/2 a tablet of Stugeron (stronger sea-sickness medicine). The rain was pounding. I looked around for drops (leaks). The bowl on the nav station was half full. I emptied it, adjusted it and stumbled back to bed. Thank God for narrow walk ways and lots of hand holds (a mast, rails along the ceiling and above lockers.) 

I rolled around for an hour falling in and out of sleep. I was awoken by a woman's voice on the radio. She called, "Attention Fleet, this is Georgia J, we've broken our anchor. We are drifting. We are disoriented and don't know where we are." Then there was radio silence. She sounded less panicked than I thought I would be in her situation. I wondered where her boat was. Was it anywhere near ours? I looked up at the port lights, it was a very black night. About 1/2 an hour later she called, "Our head sail is half out, it's jammed and we've run out of ideas on how to bring it in. Can anyone give us suggestions?" I drifted off. Owen told me later that another boat had gone to their rescue.

Around dawn I woke to hear David on Puddy Tat calling Kudana. He asked, "How do I reach the authorities? Philip V is 20 feet away. No one is aboard." Then I heard, "Zulu Lima Mike, Zulu Lima Mike." I fell back asleep.  Puddy Tat, a 42 foot cat had deployed two anchors the night before. They put out a "Bahamian mooring" - which uses two anchors - an pretty secure anchoring system designed to keep a boat from dragging in any position. Some time near dawn, the 80 foot fishing trawler "Phillip V", which had been moored near us, dragged 1/2 a mile through the anchorage. David and Sylvie (Puddy Tat) had to get out in the maelstrom and lift the bahamian mooring, move their vessel and set the anchors again. The owner of Philip V had been reached. He drove the trawler to the fuel dock. It must have cruised past our boat on it's way to Puddy Tat. We never heard if other boats were damaged (Postscript - it did hit at least one other boat).

The next day it poured all day, the gusts hitting 30 knots. Owen told me the highest winds he saw the night before were steady upper 40s. Gusts were in the 50's.  If there were gusts up to 60's I think more boats would have dragged. The securitee warnings predict for an area, since we are in a bay with foothills surrounding us (near the ocean), the warnings for our area include the coast line. The winds probably were in the 60 knot range near the unprotected waters along the coast. 

Our beds felt very damp that morning. There was new leak in the V-berth which dripped the whole width of the mattress (along the grab rail). We cancelled school today and put out more towels. We were cold. I decided to bake to warm us up. I made bread, cinnamon rolls and cookies. The baking took all day. Having the oven on all day did heat the boat, but it also caused water to condense out of the air onto colder surfaces. The bronze port lights dripped steadily throughout the day - all over the boat. The cabin house walls in the v-berth also dripped onto two corners of the mattress. We didn't find these spots until bedtime for Griffyn - they were soaked and there wasn't much we could do about it. It was still raining. When I decided I couldn't stand the sheets that came with the boat (and got rid of them), I also got rid of the mattress cover. We have been using a fleece blanket as a mattress cover below the sheets since then. That fleece against the wet mattress has helped keep our sheets drier than a standard mattress cover would. Fleece is both good and bad on a boat. If it is exposed to air or body warmth regularly it stays pretty fresh and dry-ish. If you stow it away and it gets the slightest bit damp from moist air - it sours badly - worse than cotton (Postscript - we have fixed those new leaks - and things stayed very dry in heavy rain subsequently - Amen).

When you don't have eggs or butter you can eat chocolate cake. (We have requests for this recipe every time we share it.)

Craving Chocolate Cake (originally from S/V Jack Nesbitt, made more chocolaty by me)

Sift together in a large bowl:

1/4 c Cocoa

1 1/2 c Flour less 1 Tbsp.

1 tsp Baking Soda

1/2 tsp Salt

Add:

1 c Sugar

Mix well. In a small bowl mix together:

5 tbsp Oil

1 tsp Vinegar

1 c Water, cold

Pour liquids into solids and beat just until glossy (not too much). Bake 35 min. at 350 degrees F/180 degrees C. Makes one layer of a round cake. Double recipe for two layers and bake 45 min. 

Waiting for NZ immigration, plus Kale Salad

March 6 - 16

We had submitted our Visitor Visa Extension Application to NZ immigration a week ago and heard only that they wanted more stuff. Every day Owen got up and checked his email hoping for some answer - our time here was running out. Owen felt compelled to get the steering pedestal fixed so that if we were denied we would at least be able to steer our way out of NZ waters (as safely as possible during hurricane season.) Friends kept reassuring us that we would get an extension, "They can't send you out during hurricane season - there's no where to go."  But still Owen worried, checked his email and worked on the pedestal. 

He had to completely rebuild the pedestal - it couldn't be repaired. The aluminum cap of the steering column was also cracked, but mostly intact - that could be repaired with aluminum putty and some reinforcing steel plates. He designed a new pedestal to be made out of wood and plexiglass. (pictures). He cut the wood at the local wood shop and brought it back to the boat. As each engineering problem was solved, a new problem was discovered - for instance, after measuring everything precisely, drawing up plans, cutting the wood, gluing it and installing one half of it, - he found that the teak cockpit floor was cupping. The pedestal had to be adjusted or remade. He worked from dawn to dusk on the pedestal everyday that it didn't pour down rain - there have been a lot of rainy days. Everyday the cockpit was full of power tools, hand tools, sand paper, carving tools, appoxy, glues, aluminum putty, metal plates, etc. We could barely enter or exit the cabin without getting in his way. And still we heard nothing from Immigration.

Apparently this is an unusual "summer" for NZ - it's much rainier and cooler than usual. The last three weeks have felt more like Seattle (in the fall) than any form of summer I have ever known. We are cold when we wake up, cold during the rain and cold when we go to our damp beds to sleep. I have come to one certain conclusion, I could never live on a boat in the Pacific Northwest. The most frustrating part about the rain is that it is almost always a gale when it rains, so we cannot collect water and we are stuck inside the boat hoping the anchor will hold. 

The list of things that needed to get fixed loomed before we sailed anywhere and with the number of rainy days we were experiencing, we couldn't count on any specific number of repair days. Everything became unpredictable. If only Immigration would let us know. Owen started calling them. "We're working on it," they would say. Owen was no longer available to teach school - things had to be fixed and the dry sunny days were becoming infrequent. I needed a Math and History curriculum for Tamsyn and workbooks for Griffyn. We needed a new home school plan short one teacher. Flexibility was the issue, so I started only teaching on days when we had to stay in the boat because getting off the boat was a matter of sanity (as well as getting supplies). I tried to teach 5 out of 7 days of the week but no longer paid attention to which days those were. And because our work days don't end at 5 PM rather they end at dusk we were sleeping later and we started school after breakfast whenever that was.

Griffyn burns holes in his shoes, rips through his clothes, and is growing. Tamsyn is more gentle, she simply outgrows her things like a weed in a wetsuit, (4 inches this year.) When I was invited to go with Sylvie & David (S/V Puddy Tat) and Bob & Dawn (Sylvie's parents on S/V Kudana) in their borrowed car (from Don, S/V Spirit of Yami Yami) I couldn't pass it up. I have quite a list of things I'd like to find at "pop shops" (the thrift stores) rather than buy new. This is the first country we have visited that has thrift stores. Bob & Dawn picked me up in their dinghy that cool misty morning on our way to shore. The mist turned to rain as we huddled under the awning at the Opua Cruising Club waiting for Sylvie & David. David rowed slowly through the rain - his outboard on the fritz. After they docked, we walked over to Don's car and put our purses and jackets next to the enormous 175 lb. anchor in the trunk. (Just carry an anchor in your trunk next winter - it works better than sand bags - and if you get stuck you already have the tow hook.) Don's anchor has an tiny cotter pin holding the shaft of the anchor to its  head. Imagine a 175 lb. anchor (that's a huge anchor) resting at the bottom of a brackish river, attached to 300 feet of chain. Then imagine 40 knots of wind blowing a 40 ton ketch around. I can see a weak spot. The safety of the whole boat was resting on the strength of this little rusty cotter pin.

None of us are big people but the car definitely bottomed out as we drove out of the parking lot. The opp shops are run by volunteers, retired women who totaled purchases by hand - and credit cards weren't accepted. I found nice clean sheets ($3) and lovely pillow cases ($1) and cool kids clothes for a dollar (1 kiwi dollar = 80 cents U.S.) I sure miss having a house to fill. I love thrift stores, there are always a few things that attract my attention. I have to pick them up, to feel them and smell them. I imagine the object in my kitchen or bedroom. I want to know who used them before me. I can see a hand on an old egg beater turning it. I love that whatever I find - it is really cheap. I can afford it. I love that I am not part of the big new consumer market - rather that I am helping a local charity. And if I make a mistake with a shirt, I didn't invest much, I can give it to a friend. I don't worry about getting a spot on it.

At the paper stores, I found school work books for the kids (beginning reading, problem solving, fractions, spelling, vocabulary, and grammar). This stuff was new and expensive ($150.00 - but still much cheaper than the $250 / week tuition at the local 'public' school). We hit the hardware store, the grocery store and then checked out an organic market on the way back. I found Kale!!! We haven't had kale since the U.S. It's always a full day when I get a ride to go shopping. Sylvie and David were so kind, they told me not to rush at each store we visited. I was the only one with lists. We arrived back at the dock at 6:30 PM. I had bought a lot of groceries, I had too much for a ride with another couple. Dawn sat with Tamsyn and Griffyn on Madrona while Owen drove our dinghy out to get me. By the time we got home, dropped Dawn off at Kudana, and unloaded it was near 7:30PM and everyone was hungry.The kids really wanted to see what I had bought for them. Dinner would wait. Here's our favorite Kale salad.

Kale Salad (4 servings)

Kale, 1 bunch

Virgin Olive Oil (non-virgin will also work)

Nuts, roasted chopped (pecans are best, but walnuts or cashews work)

Dried Fruit, chopped (prunes are best, but apricots, craisins or raisins work)

1/2 tsp. Salt (or more)

Black Pepper to taste

Parmesan Cheese, finely grated

1 Egg, hard boiled & chopped

Balsamic Vinegar

Steam the Kale until wilted (5 minutes in boiling water - covered). Drain and chop into bite size pieces. Put into a large serving bowl. Pour the Olive Oil over the Kale until it is fragrant plus a little more. Then add the Balsamic Vinegar slowly tasting it. It should be sweet and tart but not over-powering. Add salt and pepper. Dry roast a large handful of pecans in a heavy frying pan over low heat until they are fragrant. Add to the bowl. Add a large handful of chopped prunes. Add the chopped egg. Toss everything well. Sprinkle Parmesan over everything until it is all covered. Toss again. Serve. 

While Owen worked on the pedestal, I spring cleaned. I had not had the time or the motivation to really scrub the bathroom since we bought the boat. In the beginning, in La Paz, we had too many other more pressing projects before we sailed across the Pacific. In French Polynesia and Tonga we needed to sight see - that was the point of the trip right? But here in NZ, stuck in the boat for days on end, I had to get serious about that little room that smelled all too often. I had found a squirt bottle on the last shopping trip (I couldn't find one in French Polynesia and all of ours had rusted). I had also found "Simple Green".  I now had rolls of paper towels, a vinegar and water solution in a squirt bottle, and Simple Green in a squirt bottle. 

I was finally prepared to tackle a big cleaning job. (In Tonga, Griffyn had broken the head. He had enjoyed making a brown fountain shoot up above the bowl of the toilet after her pooped that day as he pushed and pulled on the handle. The poop went everywhere. Of course we had fixed the head and cleaned thoroughly but the head in a boat is a tight space and it's hard to get everywhere especially without a squirt bottle. Today I would try again. I wanted to 'know' what was in and around my bathroom. I cleaned everything. I polished the brass, I dusted the vented doors, I washed the walls and the wood work. And I left nothing on the toilet untouched. It smelled good in there and now we would have a new routine every time we flushed. After flushing #1 - squirt the bowl with the vinegar water solution (vinegar dissolves calcium deposits which stink as they build up), after flushing #2 - scrub the bowl with Simple Green and flush again, then squirt with the vinegar and water solution.

Inspired by my shiny success in the bathroom, I continued to clean. There are 26 vented doors on this boat - each collects dust on it's slats. I hate dusting, but in a boat, such a small cramped space, clean feels more spacious than dirty, dusty or cluttered. We work daily at reducing the number of items on this boat. Every time we go to shore we bring a couple items off the boat. The free box at the laundromat has provided us with tons of reading material - which we must read and return as quickly as possible lest the already packed book shelves breed. 

Free clothes have been my downfall. I have a hard time resisting free things in general, but clothes that fit me and look half way decent are almost impossible to resist. I bring them home, try them out and if I don't absolutely love them (and am willing to get rid of something similar) bring them back to the laundromat. I have found pants, shirts, shorts, jackets, a purse/backpack, bathing suits, undershirts, foul weather gear, hats, shoes - all in very good shape. If you are about to purchase a boat for a long cruise - don't bring too many clothes they all sour or get mildewy anyway. And you will either find free things or buy souvenir clothing along the way. Or you will want to buy all the gorgeous tropical fabrics and make your own things. (I wanted to buy a bolt of fabric in Tahiti, but settled for 8 meters of two different floral patterns).

The next day it was sunny so I decided to really look into the wet locker. Our foul weather coats and pants had mildewed a couple times now since we've been on this trip. Since we have been in NZ, I've been opening up that closet - leaving the doors ajar - every time we left the boat. And still our jackets and pants - even our boots were covered with small black specks. I was so frustrated. I pulled everything out, wiped the locker down with Dettol (an anti-fungal and anti-bacterial solution), taped over the seam in the removable floor board,  soaked all the foul weather jackets, coats, pants, and boots in Dettol and hung them out to dry in the sun. (Of-course it wasn't sunny long enough to thoroughly dry the jackets so they hung around inside the cabin for a couple days as it rained.) I hate this weather. 

3 days before our Visitor Visas expire, we get the official email - our Visitor Visa extension has been approved. The pedestal is not finished. It's still raining.