Haulout 2019

On September 20 we did out 3-year haulout, this time at Marine Service Center in Anacortes.  Well, actually it's only been 2.5 years since our last haulout, instead of three.  We pulled this fall rather than next spring because Washington State, in its rush to be more "ecologically responsible" than even California, has banned copper-containing bottom paints, effective 1-Jan-2020.  Of course, this ban applies only to recreational vessels - commercial vessels may continue using copper bottom paint.  They must have a much better lobby.

But when I talked to the folks at the yard, it turns out that the ban has been delayed until 1-Jan-2021.  Why?  Because the State's research revealed that there is no viable alternative to copper-based bottom paints.  You might wonder why they passed the law and *then* did the research...

Always scary to see your baby like this

So we hauled out.  We did it at Marine Service Center because the last haulout at Pacific Marine was an unmitigated disaster.  They use a gigantic trailer with inflatable bunks to haul - apparently it is cheaper than a Travelift to operate.  But with our boat, the bunks landed exactly on our transducers, loosening one of them.  Then we were painted by temporary help, hired that day, who did not do a good job, and finally it was nearly a month before they discovered we had been launched without paying.

In complete contrast, the haulout at Marine Service Center could not have gone better.  The people were friendly, professional, careful, and completely competent.  I highly recommend Marine Service Center.

We typically haul on a Friday.  Since the yard cannot do anything on the boat until it is dry after pressure washing, this gives us the weekend to do what we need to do before the prep and painting begins.

Does this guy look tired?

In this instance, I used the weekend to lube the underwater side of our thru hulls, to rod out our galley sink drain (there were barnacles in there, causing it to run slow), and to buff out the upper part of the hull (a huge job).

Rain, rain, go away...

Paying attention to the weather forecast, I saved the prop for Sunday since rain was forecast.  The prop is located where the rain wouldn't get on it while working on it.

Oooo... clean!

Sand/grind the barnacles off (there were surprisingly few...), change the zinc, and apply several coats of Barnacle Ban, a cold galvanizing paint which repels barnacles.

Always looks so good when the paint is fresh!

One of my primary concerns was whether or not I had cured the weird (Electrolytic? Galvanic?) attack we had seen on the bottom paint near various pieces of underwater metal - even some which are not connected to anything!  I am happy to report that the fix has eliminated the problem!

Haulout 2019

Haulout 2017

We haul out Eolian every three years for a new coat of bottom paint.  Our last was in the spring of 2014, just before we moved her to Anacortes, so she was due this spring.

For the almost 20 years we have been responsible for her maintenance, Eolian has been hauled using a Travelift - a huge contraption that lifts the boat out of the water bodily using two enormous straps:

Scary sight!

This has not been an easy task for us.  First, the Travelift at Shilshole was not large enough to haul Eolian unless we backed her into the Travelift slip.  And we had to disconnect the topping lift for the mizzen boom and drop it down.  And even then, the mizzen mast was always very uncomfortably close to the cross beam of the Travelift.  Oh, and the boat yard required that we had no roller furled sails aboard when we were blocked up (apparently one came open in a windstorm years ago and boats got knocked over like dominoes).  So we always had to remove our yankee - not a simple task because it is so large.

Ah, but not this year.  First, in Anacortes, apparently it is the SeaLift which is all the rage, not the Travelift.  The SeaLift is just an enormous, self-propelled boat trailer.  The boat rests on inflatable bunks (8-10 psi) that contact nearly the entire length of the hull - a much gentler loading than the two straps on the Travelift.  As you would expect, the operator backs the SeaLift into the water and you just drive your boat onto it, just as if it was a 16' ski boat.  Unlike a ski boat trailer tho, the SeaLift has the ability to keep your boat level as it comes out of the water, up the ramp, and onto shore.

We didn't even have to take the dinghy off!

This yard did not require removal of our headsail, and we didn't even have to take off the dinghy!

Adding to the weirdness, the actual yard is about a half a block down the street and on the other side.  So Eolian actually took a trip on land, stopping traffic and everything.

Trundlin' down the road...

Sadly however, not all was roses and wine...  Eolian has a couple of depth sounder transducers mounted on fairing blocks on her hull, and I was afraid that the weight of the boat on them could cause damage if they lined up with the inflatable trailer bunks.  This has never been a problem with a Travelift, because the contour of the hull has the straps a long ways out from them.

Uh oh...

Yup, Murphy played his part.  The bunk lined up precisely on the transducer on the port side, as you can see - the uncleaned part of the hull is uncleaned because it was against the bunk when the hull was pressure washed.

It moved.

After things were dried off, it was obvious that the fairing block had moved towards the centerline of the hull.  The missing paint revealed the disturbance.

Long deliberation on my part concluded that the risk of damaging or breaking the transducer while removing it for a rebedding far outweighed the risk of a minor leak if we simply just thoroughly caulked the seam between the fairing block and the hull, and between the fairing block and the transducer (yes, it was cocked slightly in the block).  So digging out all the loose paint and caulking with 5200 was the order of the day.

Blocked up and waiting for the paint crew

While waiting for Eolian's turn with the paint crew, I used a small portable generator, a ladder, and a buffer and buffed out the hull.  It really makes a huge difference!

Shiny!

Wow - that makes it sound like I spent the afternoon buffing.  Not so.  Buffing out Eolian is a more like buffing out your house.  It took me Tuesday thru Saturday, working 6-7 hours a day to get it done.  But she looks like a new boat afterwards!

Fresh paint always looks wonderful

And then on Monday the paint crew finished their touch-ups, and once again we were headed down the street to the launching ramp...

What's wrong with this picture?

Would I use a Sealift again?  With our underbody configuration, I think I'll avoid it.  But the transducer works fine and is not leaking... yet...

Haulout 2017

Frame shift

 It happens every three years.


For two years and eleven months, we live here in the marina within sight of the boatyard.  But it's invisible to us - its existence doesn't rise into our consciousness.

Then in that 35th month we do a haulout.  Suddenly, we become painfully and bluntly aware of the yard - because it has become our home.  The water is out there, beyond the fence and the concrete, but we are in there, with the noise, the commotion, the weird smells, rigid and unmoving.

After a while we sort of get used to it all, climbing a 12-foot ladder a hundred times a day.  Living without refrigeration and not running water into any of the sinks becomes the norm.  It takes a few days.

You get to know your neighbors on the hard, their boats and the reasons they are sharing the experience with you.  You cheer their successes and commiserate their failures. 

And the blue dust is everywhere.

Then a miracle occurs and the boat is splashed.  It returns to its natural element and to its slip.  And everything returns to normal.

But not quite.  Now, sitting here in our slip, we are aware of the faint sounds of the Travelift's engine and backup beeper.  When we drive by the yard, we not only notice that it is there, but we note who is now in "our" spot.  We discuss the progress of the work on the boats that so recently were our neighbors.  The boatyard is firmly in our consciousness.

It lasts for a month or so, and then it fades once again, receding into the background of unnoticed things.  For 35 more months.

Frame shift

Splashdown!

Tuesday, 15:00

And Eolian is back in her natural element: saltwater!

What a relief.  And completely miraculously, we managed to dodge several weather bullets - despite ominous forecasts of rain and high wind, none ever materialized except for a light sprinkle on Monday nite.

Back in our slip, we quaffed a celebratory IPA and then both took desperately needed showers.

And then the rains and wind came...

Splashdown!

High and dry

So, here we sit...  high and dry.

We were hauled out Friday morning, and basically frittered away the rest of that day, which wasn't actually that much by the time Eolian was blocked up.

Saturday, the work started in earnest.  While I wielded the buffer, compounding and waxing the hull, Jane tackled the cabin sides by hand - a smaller but much more tedious job.  Above you can easily see the point where I stopped work and took the picture.  By the end of Saturday, I couldn't raise my arms and the hull was only half done.

Sunday was basically a repeat of Saturday, yet another sunny day, but cool enough so that heat didn't interfere with the work.  And by late Sunday afternoon, the hull was done.  And my arms were as limp as two pieces of way overcooked pasta.

And now today - just the little stuff - a new zinc on the prop, painting the transducers with their special paint, and waiting around for the yard guys to start the painting process.  They say they will splash us tomorrow...  We'll see.

Oh, and a word to those of you out there who plan to haul at Seaview West...  sometime since our last haulout (2011), a customer who can only be described as an idiot perched a ladder on top of a sawhorse.  When the predictable occurred and he fell and was injured, he sued the boat yard for $275,000....  and won.  Because the yard didn't have a sign at the gate that said, "Don't put ladders on top of sawhorses - you could fall and injure yourself."  So now the yard does not allow customers the use of their staging.  You'll have to rent your own scaffolding and bring it in if you plan to do work that requires it.  *Sigh*

High and dry

Getting your teeth cleaned

• Getting your teeth cleaned.
• Doing your taxes.
• Renewing your driver's license.
• Performance reviews.

These are all unpleasant things that, despite their unpleasantness, we go forward with when the time comes.

For those boaters out there who keep your boats on salt water there is another: the haulout.   For Eolian, in the waters here on Puget Sound, this is an event that needs to happen every third year.  Since our last one was in 2011, now is the time.

Today my task is to walk over to Seaview West and get on their schedule.

No, I am NOT dragging my feet.  Really, I just want another cup of coffee.

Really.

---

Update: We are scheduled for 10:00 AM on April 11

Getting your teeth cleaned

Something is not quite right

Something is missing...

Something is not quite right.

At Shilshole, the slips are in pairs; they are horseshoe shaped, with one boat tying up to its port side and the other in the pair tying up to its starboard side.

We are the port side tie-up in our horseshoe.

Over the years that we have been moored here, slip-mates have come and gone.  But the one constant has been that there has been a slip-mate.

But when your slip mate pulls out for 5 months (and still counting...) of major work, something is not quite right.  Sure, when you look out the window, it is obvious that the boat is gone.

But when you are not looking out the window, your unconscious nags you, communicating in the only way it can.  Back in your conscious life, that communication manifests as a vague feeling that something is amiss.

And then you consciously look out the window again, and...

Oh.  Yeah - the boat's gone.

C'mon Wander Bird, it's time to get back in the water.

A constant is missing.

Something is not quite right

Disorientation and adaptation

There is a word for this: that feeling of being in familiar surroundings that are somehow not right.  Where there are enough cues to make you feel that all is as it should be, but then there are others that are dissonant and contradict that.  My vocabulary is inadequate to the task of putting the word to it (perhaps one of you out there will help me).

Nevertheless, I think I have described the feeling well enough that you can follow along with me.  This weekend was full of that feeling.

First, I spent days mentally preparing myself for having our home hoisted out of its natural element and propped up on land, on blocks and stands.   And when that happens, life aboard (is that still the right term?) changes dramatically.  I've talked about it before - you can't run water down any of the drains, you can't run the refrigerator (it is water cooled) or the heat pump (also water cooled).  Which means that cooking changes dramatically, and that using the bathroom means a trip down a 12-foot step ladder and a walk across the yard and thru a locked gate.  Also, your days are full to the brim with work, so that you are exhausted at nightfall.  And eating out is the norm (see cooking, above).

Nevertheless, despite the mental prep work, when the actual event happens, there is still disorientation.  Looking forward, you see your bowsprit in the trees instead of over the water.

And the boat is still.  It feels dead, somehow.  And tho it may not make it into your conscious awareness, this troubles you while you sleep.  Which means, of course, that you sleep poorly.

But humans are remarkably adaptable.  Our brains have evolved to assimilate our surroundings, and make them familiar.  My theory is this is so that as much as possible of life is put onto subconscious autopilot, freeing up the conscious for more important tasks.  So after a couple of days, you adapt.  It is no longer remarkable that the sinks are not usable, or that your hands are always dirty and you are always sore and tired.  This becomes "normal", and you really don't think about it.  And then you *do* sleep at nite.

Ah, but then everything changes again.  The boat is picked up and re-introduced to water.  And as valves are opened and systems are brought back online, once again the disorientation returns - the subconscious programs in the autopilot are again no longer valid.

There are people who push adaptability hard - military folks, business people, pastor's families, musicians, cruisers.  They move frequently or travel extensively; they go thru change constantly.  Amazingly, human adaptability is able to make constant change into the constant, and put it into the subconscious autopilot.  These people then undergo disorientation when they cease the constant travel and/or moving - we say they "have itchy feet," or they are "footloose".

For us this past weekend, the haulout was so quickly accomplished that we never reached accommodation with life on the hard.  And yet, going back into the water was still disorienting.

But is is good to be afloat again.

Disorientation and adaptation

The fourth W

Back in our slip again!

SPLASH!

We're back in the water.

The whole event lasted less than 36 hours, which must be some kind of record.

And when we were pulling out of the Travelift slip, and waving goodbye to Roland, Tom and the crew (who were all out on the pier) I felt like we were waving to family.  And in a way we were - they have been taking care of Eolian and us for more than a decade.  We keep going back to have the work done by this crew because they recognize that a haulout is a traumatic experience to us (and every boat owner), and treat us accordingly, with professionalism and amazing attention to the details which make the process go safely and smoothly.


Below are some pictures of our brief time up on blocks, with some wisdom that I gained from Tom - he's got years of experience, working on hundreds of boats - boats which he sees year after year.  He gets to see what works and lasts, and what doesn't.

To clean a prop, I have always used a rotary wire brush chucked in an electric drill.  But Tom said that aside from the scratches the wire brush leaves, it will leave small pieces of iron embedded in the bronze, which could cause localized galvanic corrosion.  Instead he suggested I use a 3M disk - kind of an industrial version of Scotchbrite.  It worked great! 

Shiny, shiny

Definitely time for a new zinc!

Tom said that I should apply 1 coat of Barnacle Ban for each year I intended it to last - this is three coats, because I don't want us to haul out again until 2014.

On the left we see a groady old man, looking a lot less professional than the yard crew, buffing out the hull.  On the right and looking a lot better, Jane followed behind and did the boot stripe which I didn't want to do with the power buffer for fear of getting wax on the new bottom paint.  Tom suggested I use a different bonnet on the buffer - one which would cut the oxidation more quickly.  Once again, he was right.

The fourth W

Asphalt, not water

The view out of our cockpit looking aft is a little different this evening - Puget Sound and the Olympic mountains are still there, but crowding into the foreground is asphalt - not water.  Yup, we're up on the hard for our every-third-year haulout.

As usual, I was nervous about maneuvering in the very tight confines just in front of the Travelift slip.  And the wind was up out at the end of G Dock.  But it was out of the South - and the Travelift slip is sheltered from a South wind, so the water was calm.  Jane and  Scotty from Ghost kept us off the steel pilings as I backed into the slip, and the hoist itself was uneventful.

And tonight we are going to sleep on a boat that is strangely motionless.  Unless you live on a boat, you do not know how weird that is.

Asphalt, not water

Well then, it's settled

All the W's are established.  We haul out this coming Thursday at 09:00 at Seaview West.  Roland and Tom are back to managing the West yard (we're fans), they have a new, larger Travelift and newly renovated Travelift dock, and, frankly, it is more convenient not having to traverse the Ballard Locks.

Well, that is if the weather cooperates.  We have hauled out in spite of the weather in the past, but not this time.  If there is a 20 kt crosswind, we will simply remain in our slip and reschedule.

Now it is our task to gather tools and supplies.  Our primary task while the boat is up on stands, and while the yard does the bottom,  will be to do a thorough job of buffing out and waxing the hull.  This is a job that is quite difficult to do from a dinghy, and it is a big job.  Ever painted your house?  How'd you like to buff it out and wax it?  Yeah, that big.

Well then, it's settled

The four W's

It's time.

It's been 3 years since the last one.

I anticipate this like I anticipate a visit to the dentist, and like a visit to the dentist, we put it off as long as possible.  It's time for (cue 'Jaws' music)... the scary H-word...

Haulout

This is where you have to put your pride and joy in the hands of others - where you must put your trust in others as they perform definitely non-boaty things to your partner/baby/home.

For us, this starts when we must partially de-rig the mizzenmast so that Eolian will fit into a Travelift, backwards.  Because of our size, if we pull in to the Travelift slip forwards, the forestay interferes with the rear crossbeam of the Travelift, meaning that the Travelift slings cannot be positioned far enough back to suround our center of gravity:  in other words, if they try to pick us up when we are facing into the slip, we will tip over backwards.  Not good.

So we know we will to backing into the Travelift slip, with all the fun that entails.  Now, apparently due to a Seattle municipal ordinance, all boat yards with haulout capabilities are required to be positioned so that they are exposed to crosswinds.  So we will be backing into the narrow Travelift slip in a crosswind.  Three years ago, it was a 20+ kt crosswind laced with rain and snow.  That event required 5+ yard personnel acting as live fenders because while backing upwind, when it was time to make a right angle turn into the slip, I was able to turn the stern, but the bow continued to point downwind, across the slip, flying from the stern like a flag flies from a flagpole.  I'd like to never have to do that again.

This brings us to the four W's which are required to be on your haulout planning list:

• When
  Because of my work schedule, we will schedule for a Friday.  But which Friday?  It seems that we are always way early in the year (snow! last time).  In the past, the yards offered price incentives for these early slots, trying to keep their schedules full.  But not anymore.  This time I'd like to try it in warmer, and hopefully less stormy, weather.  So, April or May.  Depending, of course, on availability of yard space.  I need to call them.
• Why
  Thankfully, we have no major maintenance items.  Just:
  
  • refreshing of the bottom paint, 
  • a thorough cleaning of the prop and retreatment with Barnacle Ban, 
  • changing the zinc without having to hold my breath in frigid water,
  • and buffing out the hull - much easier to do from scaffolding on shore than from a dinghy in the water
• Where
  We will be using the Seaview East yard.  They are staffed with extremely experienced people, and are familiar with handling large boats.  In fact, we will be one of the smaller boats in the yard.  I cannot recommend Roland and his staff highly enough.
• Wine
  Umm... Because it's required?  Life on the hard is, well, hard.   I needed a forth 'W' anyway.

The four W's

On The Hard

"On the hard" - I think that's a phrase you'll only hear if you're in the boating community.

Every few years, depending on where your boat is moored, it will become necessary to remove it from the water to do maintenance on the normally submerged parts.  It is an experience as traumatic for the boat owner as it is for the boat.  In the yard we use, the relationship you have with the yard manager and the Travel Lift operator is much like that you would have with your family doctor.  They really do understand that your boat is a member of your family, and that you are entrusting your family member's care to them.

Boats are normally supported by gentle, conforming, liquid pressure distributed on every square inch of their submerged surface.  Everything about the haulout is the opposite.  The entire weight of the boat is borne over a very small area, on metal or wood.

But I am ahead of myself.  For us, the first trauma is backing into the Travel Lift dock.  Eolian's rig makes it necessary to do the lift this way.  I've talked before about the difficulty of backing up.  But in a nutshell, because both the thrust from the engine and the rudder are at the stern, any wind or current makes the rest of the boat almost uncontrollable.  Think of a flag, flying from a flagpole.  The bow flies from the stern like a flag.  So we always hope for benign conditions on haulout day.  Sometimes we get it.  But for the last one (in March 2008), we had a 20 kt crosswind, driving rain and temps in the low 40's.  Yuk.  It took a lot of help from the guys in the boatyard (special kudos to Harris!), but we finally got Eolian into position, with no damage.

But my heart is always in my throat when the lift begins.  That's our home!  And it is going straight up in the air!  Are the straps in the right place?  Will they stay in place and not slip?  Will the Travel Lift operator be really, really careful?  And the poor boat - now supported by only two straps.  Please don't let them break! (That's an actual multi-million dollar "oops" - not photoshopped.  Note the poor guy crouched on the stern riding it down.)

Next stop:  the pressure washing station, where the accumulated sea life is unceremoniously blown off the hull.  Sometimes there is enough to make a nice seafood dinner!  All that water is captured and re-used, meaning that it is saturated with expired sea life, so the smell is, um... unique.

Then she gets blocked up, supported on wooden cribbing and braced with special stands so she doesn't fall over.  This is not how she likes to be supported!

And then the real fun begins.  First of all, living aboard while you are on the hard is difficult.  You can't use the heads because they use sea water for the flush.  Next, you can't use any of the sinks on board, because they will just drain on the ground.  The refrigerator is out of commission, because it is water cooled.  The heat pump won't work either, for the same reason.  So, you've gone from a self-sufficient comfortable life, to one which is camping out.  Well, kind of.  You eat out a lot because cooking is hard and washing the dishes is even harder.  You use the marina's toilets and showers.  And when you go to bed at nite, it is difficult to fall asleep.  Something is niggling at your subconscious...  Something is not quite right.  The boat is absolutely stationary.  It feels...  dead.

So you work hard to minimize the time in the yard.  But everything you might want or need is at the other end of a 12-foot step ladder.  It feels like you make a thousand trips a day up and down that ladder.  And everything in the yard is covered with dust and dirt, so no matter how hard you try, the boat gets dirty.  It truly is a race against time.  Because you don't want to be here.  Because the living is *not* easy.  And because the yard charges by the day.

All of us in the yard are in the same situation.  There is a certain camaraderie that develops.  Tools are borrowed, advice is given and expertise is exchanged.  In the evening, when the quiet hours are enforced, people gather and talk.  About why they are in the yard, about boats and about life.  New friends are made, and then forevermore, when you are out on the water, there are more boat names you are looking for thru the binoculars.

When all the work is done, and the bottom has a fresh coat of that $250/gallon paint, it is time for the Travel Lift to come back and pick you up again for the return trip to the water.  Oh joyous hour!

Then life can return to normal.

Until the next haulout.

On The Hard