Flags

It's a piece of multi-colored cloth fluttering in the wind. But why? Why is it up there fluttering in the wind?

Most non-boating people would answer from a list something like this:

• Decoration
• They're festive
• To show patriotism

But boaters would have these as the first two items on their lists:

• Identification
• Communication

And, if you allow me to define "identification" as "communicating national origin", then there is only one item on the list:

• Communication

Communication is the primary purpose for flags. Before the advent of radio a little more than 100 years ago, most ship-to-ship or ship-to-shore communication was done with flags . A sailor standing on the deck of a ship with a telescope can "read" the flags being flown on another ship, from miles away. (The other method was by courier - sending a man in a boat with the message - but this has obvious limitations due to distance, sea state, and the lack of ability to do one-to-many messaging.)

Knowing that flags are communication devices, you might suspect that there are flags for each letter in the alphabet - and you'd be right. Given enough flags, and enough space to fly them, you could spell out any message. A modern-day example of the continuing use of the alphabet flags is the plain yellow "Q" flag, signifying "Quarantine", that a vessel flies before clearing customs when it enters a foreign harbor.

But this use of the Q flag begins to bridge to the primary flag methodology: where a single flag stands for an entire message or concept. This is a much more economical use of flags and flag halyards. In this particular example, although it is not a special-purpose flag, accepted usage has it understood that the single Q flag takes the place of 10 alphabet flags. Compared to flags, texting is scandalously verbose.

Message	Flag
Boat in distress
Boat in distress (alternate)
"A" alphabetic signal flag, Diver down (International, US Coast Guard)
Diver down (common usage)
Small craft warning
Gale warning
Storm warning
Hurricane warning
Sun is over the yardarm

And, of course, the flag flying over Eolian's decks most recently also is a means of communication!

Why didn't we...

I don't know why we didn't. You would think that we would have long ago.

Living aboard and dealing with the problems of humidity, especially in the winter when the boat is sealed up should have pointed us at this solution sooner.

In a dock gathering discussion last week, we realized that most of the other boats were keeping dehumidifiers running in the winter.

But my memories were of the huge clanking monster of a dehumidifier that my parents ran in the basement of our childhood home. It was a heavy, file cabinet-sized unit that needed its own circuit - it drew 15 amps. Not exactly appropriate for a boat.

But now we have the world's products at our fingertips - I did a quick Internet search and found this one - it draws only 1.6 amps, is small enough to live in the aft head, and yet is capable of pulling 25 pints of water/day out of the atmosphere inside the boat. It even has provision for a continuous drain (which I haven't set up yet), that would go right into the shower sump it is sitting above. Oh yeah... and that is distilled water it is producing too - ideal for the batteries. Finally, condensing water produces heat, so it functions as a small space heater too (you can almost think of it as a tiny heat pump).

One of the dangers of living with problems is that they cease to be viewed as problems after living with them long enough. If it hadn't been for that casual dock conversation, we'd still be living with the humidity.

I learned about sailing from that: Always have a backup plan!

This is a guest column, written by Mike & Rebecca aboard s/v Katana. This is an expanded version of the original post, written specifically for Windborne in Puget Sound.

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If ever there was a time when circumstances aligned to cause us problems, the first day moving our boat this season was it.

Although launch day was calm and uneventful, including the mast stepping which followed (I won't mention the lightning storm that began just as I was tightening the rigging), the wind had picked up considerably the next day. As more boat launches were scheduled, we told the marina owners that we would get there early and move our boat a few slips down the dock to make way.

Our boat's engines had sat without running for just shy of 6 months and thus I was a bit apprehensive about how well they would perform. Because of this, we let the engines run at idle for a good 15 minutes before casting off to move the boat. At this point the winds were blowing from our stern quarter at a good 20 knots. Nothing we hadn't experienced before, but we did make a note of it and considered how it would affect the boat's movement.

Strangely, the marina yard was, just then, empty. If one of the staff had have been around, or even one of the other boat owners, there is a good chance that I would have asked him to stand by on the dock to catch a line as we made our approach to the new slip. But again, docking with just the two of us was something we had done many times in the previous season, so we didn't bother going to look for help. With me at the helm, Rebecca cast off the lines as we had planned.

Almost from the beginning it didn't work out quite as we had hoped and Rebecca had to move quickly to even get on the boat. The wind took hold, causing us to accelerate and almost instantly we were being blown across the water towards the adjacent dock. No problem... I'll just shift the engines into reverse. Problem! They both stalled! Fortunately, with only a few feet to spare, I was able to restart them quickly and shift to reverse. This stopped our forward motion but again, the wind had moved us off course and we were now past the slip that we initially intended to dock in. As this was very early in the season, the entire dock was virtually empty, and thus we rapidly decided to make way into the next slip. Again the engines stalled and we were blown past it. This wind-blowing-engine-stalling process repeated itself until we had moved from the very first slip in the dock all the way out into the bay. At this point I had visions of our engine problems allowing us to be taken right across to the opposite shoreline! No problem... we have a sailboat. We'll just raise our sails to control our motion. Problem! The sails had not yet been rigged! OK, still no problem... if we really get into trouble we'll just drop our anchor. Another problem. Even the anchors had not yet been set! They were stored below, as they had been all winter, instead of being fixed on the bow, ready to deploy, as they normally are.

Was there a happy ending? Yes, what could have been a disaster for us resolved itself favorably. We ultimately got the engines running and were able to maneuver ourselves back to our desired slip. Although the docking process was ugly to say the least, the boat made it there without a scratch (thanks in part to the rubber bumpers on the corner of the dock and to Rebecca's aggressive fending-off).

Lessons learned:

• The first lesson, and one that was drilled into us from our first sailing course, is to not let Mother Nature get one up on us. Although we had considered the wind's effect on our movement, we failed to pay it enough heed.


• Although we had anticipated that we may have had engine issues, we failed to test them fully prior to casting off. We should have.


• Why didn't we seek help when all it would have taken is a quick walk to find one of the marina staff, or even easier, a quick call on the radio to the office? I would have to say that we (I) let our ego take over. We shouldn't have to ask for help to move our own boat, should we? Yes, given the circumstances, asking to have someone stand by would have been prudent, and it sure would have been helpful.


• What about the sails and the anchors? This could be one of the biggest lessons. We had no backup plan. No fail-safe. There always needs to be a backup, and if possible, a backup to that backup.

Good fortune was actually with us that day because we were able to have some important lessons driven home to us without it costing us any money. That isn't often the case!

Mike and Rebecca
s/v Katana
http://www.zerotocruising.com

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Years ago when I was a kid, I used to read Flying magazine. I particularly enjoyed a long-running series of articles entitled "I Learned About Flying From That." Each article was written by a pilot, who humbly admitted to having made a mistake, and then having lived, told about it in the hopes that others would not have to make the same mistake. I thought then that it was a good format, and I still think that now. This series of postings is my attempt to recreate that article series with a new subject and new technology.

(If you would like to help others to learn from your mistakes, please send your article to: WindborneInPugetSound at gmail dot com)

Announcing...

Please take a look at our sister site, mentioned over there in the sidebar. (I am still fooling around with the template.) Here is the introductory posting on the site:

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Whenever boaters gather, they are frequently proud to share those small additions and modifications to their boats which have made living aboard easier - sometimes far out of proportion to the size of the projects. Books have been published, filled with such ideas - the concept behind this site is similar, but hopefully much more responsive to the boating community, because of the immediacy of the blogosphere, and the ability to communicate with the author or others thru comments.

So, pay it forward: make a contribution that will help your fellow travelers out on the waves. To do that, send your contribution to SmallBoatProjects at gmail dot com. Your contribution will feature a link back to your blog, and contributors will permanently appear in the contributors listing over in the sidebar. If you'd like to make your contribution a "teaser", which provides enough information to interest the reader, but requires him/her to go to your site to get the whole story, please feel free to do just that. Only be sure to provide enough information to make the post here coherent.

If you do not want to take the trouble to do the work, just give me a hint where an old post of yours is, and permission to copy it, and I will do the work.

To get things going, I'll put a couple of my own up here. They have appeared elsewhere, but I don't see that as a detriment - this site should serve as a consolidator - one place to go for neat ideas invented by your fellow boaters. And for contributors, an additional way to drive traffic to your site.

Your turn. GO.

Behind the scenes

Ever wonder what goes on behind the scenes, in the production of Ghost's monthly Blog?

Well, here's your "Inside Edition." This is Scott documenting his work - he has removed a section of rotten wood from his mizzenmast and nicely scarfed the ends of the cavity. He is standing on the beautiful piece of sitka spruce which will eventually be shaped to fit in the recess he has made.

Look forward to seeing this project documented on Ghost's blog in the future.

Zero Cost Experiment

Every now and then, life presents you with an opportunity disguised as a problem. The best of these opportunities give you the chance to experiment, with essentially no cost for failure. This is one of them.

When we purchased Eolian, the four opening ports in the aft end had been replaced with Beckson "Rain Drain" ports. They looked pretty good, and far, far better than the original 20-year old ports still in the forward half of the boat (I replaced those in the first 6 months of ownership, also with Rain Drains). But they were showing some age.

And now after an additional 12 years, the molded Lexan opening parts had aged in the sun, as Lexan is wont to do: they had turned cloudy and were taking on a yellowish-brownish tint. In fact, from the inside all four looked like they had been purposely frosted for privacy, except for that yellowish/brownish tint... that part was just plain ugly.

Using a piece of logic that I seem to frequently employ, I decided that they were so bad that replacement was in order. Therefore I had nothing to lose by having a go at polishing them myself - a zero cost experiment! I love those!

Being male, my first idea always involves power tools. So I pulled off one of the Lexan molded windows and took it to my shop, where I applied it to a buffing wheel loaded with rouge. The results were mixed. The buffing wheel put too much energy into too small an area, causing local heating, which caused local surface crazing, if I was not very, very careful. Because of this it was difficult to get an even polish on the surface.

OK, so I was forced to fall back to manual methods. Next, I tried using Meguiar's products - these are specifically designed for polishing plastics. I had read that Lexan was not amenable to hand polishing, but once again, I had nothing to lose. So I started with the #17 cleaning compound (this is actually a polishing compound, containing a very fine abrasive) and a soft rag. The effect was nothing short of stunning. In less than a minute of polishing, all the discoloration and almost all of the frosting was gone! Then I applied the polish (which is an abrasive-free wax), and it got even better! The aft head port in this picture is closed - you are here looking thru what used to look like a frosted privacy window!

I spent perhaps an hour total, and totally changed the appearance of the aft cabin and head.

I must confess that not all my "zero cost experiments" turn out well, but this one succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. If you don't have these two Meguiar's products, you should. Go out and get some. I can't recommend them enough!

New Crew for Eolian!

Last night, at 02:15, after 47 hours of labor, our daughter Erica and her husband Ken presented us with our first grandchild. Hazel Ruth is a healthy baby girl with a displacement of 9 pounds 2 ounces and LOA of 21.5".

Now I am officially, unavoidably, an old salt.

The Cremation of Sam McGee

Thinking back, one of the fondest memories I have gathered here, living on the dock, is of a winter evening aboard Black Opal.

I need to take you back, back to winter: it is cold, and windy, and dark. I don't recall now if dinner was involved, but certainly after-dinner wine was. We had ducked out of Eolian and trotted thru the weather and the dark down the dock a few slips to Black Opal. It was definitely that kind of
night - the kind where you want to cozy up to a fireplace in the company of good friends. Well there was no fireplace, but Fred had the Dickenson turned up enough, and it was cozy down below. Yes, there was wine. And there was friendship.

I don't remember now what led to it, but Fred pulled a book off the bookshelf and began reading from Robert Service's The Songs of a Sourdough. In my memory of that evening, the poem, "The Cremation of Sam McGee," - about a prospector who freezes to death in the Yukon - stands out. The poem was perfectly in tune with the night. Fred's times in Alaska made it all the more authentic. And our times in Chewelah gave us a foundation upon which Fred and Mr. Service could weave the imagery.

The poem fit the night, and Fred made it real.

Last evening, gathered on the dock in the warm, I was reminded of that cold winter nite past, when Fred talked about visiting Sam McGee's restored cabin on his homestead (Sam McGee was a real person). The contrast between the cold of the remembered evening and the warmth of the present one, sitting outside, comfortably in shirt sleeves, was severe. I shivered.

I'm glad it is not winter.

A Bucket of Electricity

Please Sir, can I have a bucket of electricity? No? That makes about as much sense as asking for a foot of milk. So, then how is electricity measured? Those of us on boats are much closer to this issue than folks living on shore.

Electrical energy is measured in watt-hours (or kilowatt-hours, or megawatt-hours) - it is not measured in amps, volts, or watts. These are units used to measure other things. I know I am patronizing most of those who read this, but since there is so much confusion in the general public (and especially the media - but I don't expect any of them to be reading this), a quick review is in order:

Amp

The amount of electricity flowing - a direct measure of the number of electrons passing a point in the wire. It is also called "current", which provides a great analogy to water or hydraulic systems (where the current is typically measured in something like gallons/min). If it helps, think of an amp as "a bazillion electrons per second".

Volt

This is the electrical pressure . Continuing the analogy to liquids, in a water system or a hydraulic system, the amount of work the current can do is related to the amount of current and the pressure at which it is available. Think of a pressure washer, for example. The water flow out of the hose bib to the pressure washer is the same as the flow out of the pressure washer nozzle. The difference in the ability to do work is the pressure.

Watt

A unit of power, not energy. Power is defined as the rate at which energy is produced or expended. Changing analogies now, the size of your engine determines the power produced; the amount of fuel in your tank determines the total energy available, regardless of the rate at which it is produced. In electrical systems, one way that power can be calculated is by multiplying the current (in Amps) times the voltage (in Volts), directly giving Watts.

Thus, for example, your inverter might be capable of delivering energy at the rate of 1000 watts - at 120 volts, this means the current is going to be 1000/120=8.33 amps on the 120 volt output side of the inverter. The rate at which energy is withdrawn from your 12 volt battery bank is approximately the same (actually it will be a little greater, due to inefficiencies in the inverter). Thus, on the low voltage side of the circuit, the inverter will be drawing a little more than 1000 watts = 83.3 amps at 12 volts (about the same as a starter cranking a big V8 engine).

Watt-hour

This, finally, is a unit of energy. Using the units above, Watt-hours = Volts multiplied by Amps multiplied by hours. If you draw energy from your battery bank at the rate of 1000 watts (83.3 Amps at 12 Volts) for one hour, you will have consumed 1000 watt-hours, or 1 kilowatt-hour. (You can purchase a kilowatt-hour from your local power company for 10¢ - 15¢)

Amp-hour

This is going to be a little confusing. But diving right in... In systems where the voltage is more or less fixed, it is sometimes more convenient to talk about amp-hours, as a unit of energy, with the voltage implied. This is a bastard unit, since 100 amp-hours (at 100 volts) is a whole lot more energy than 100 amp-hours (at 12 volts). But for boats, you can trade back and forth between watt-hours and amp-hours, as long as you remember that they differ by a factor of the system voltage: 12 volts. That is, when you say that you have a 100 amp-hour battery bank, what you are really saying is that you have a 1200 watt-hour battery bank (one that will store perhaps 15¢ worth of electrical energy).

The media (even, shamefully often, the marine press) get these all mixed up, talking about nonsense such as "amps per hour", frequently to the point that it is not possible to figure out what they are trying to say.

Well, not so quick a review. I apologize - this was originally going to be a post about energy budgets, but I realized after I got writing that defining the term "energy" was a big enough subject for its own post. The energy budget will have to wait for later - but now we are on common ground to talk about it.

Unscheduled Stoppages

"Unscheduled stoppages": That's what the Previous Owner termed them... When the engine stops, not because you command it to do so, but of its own volition (or perhaps lack of volition).

Diesel engines are remarkably reliable. Because there is no electrical system involved in the operation of the engine, it is purely a machine. It will run until:

• Something breaks
• It runs out of fuel

In fact, that's how you stop a diesel engine - you cut off its fuel. Therefore, if your engine stops on its own, unless broken greasy parts have suddenly appeared on the cabin sole, you should start your search for the problem with the fuel supply.

Eolian's original fuel system looked something like this (starting at the tanks):

1. Two steel canister filters, either one of which (or both) could be valved in line
2. A large Racor filter
3. The lift pump (on the engine)
4. The final polishing filter (on the engine)
5. The injection pump (on the engine)
6. Enough (unlabeled) valves to fit out a nuclear reactor

Not surprisingly, our very first unscheduled stoppage happened on our very first voyage. It was caused by operator error - I had some of the valves incorrectly set up, directing the fuel thru an auxiliary electric fuel pump (not mentioned above, since it wasn't supposed to be in the flow path), whose small internal passages blocked off with gunk in the unfiltered fuel.

We were to suffer many more, some in pretty precarious situations. Like the time we were just making the turn into the marina after a day of sailing. We were in the entrance to the Ship Canal. The locks had just opened and there was a host of boats heading out, bearing down on us. And we were drifting toward the rock-studded shoal on the south side of the Ship Canal entrance. We were fortunate in that we had just furled the sails - we just unfurled them, and Jane began tacking us back and forth across Puget Sound, while my son Adam and I chased bubbles thru the fuel system.

Eventually we resolved the problem, by taking these actions:

• Remove the steel canister filters. As it turned out, they were completely empty - there were no filter elements in them at all
• Install a second Racor 90 gallon/hr filter in parallel with the first. This is way more filter than our flow rate requires, but it's large size provides a large filtration area.
• Redo the fuel plumbing, eliminating a pile of valves
• Create a plumbing/valving diagram, and post it on the bottom of the floorboard, where it will be at eye level when operating any of the fuel valving
• Label the valves
• Repair the fuel gauge sending units in the fuel tanks
• Install a second Racor vacuum gauge in the panel adjacent to the companionway, where it is easily viewable.

We haven't had an unscheduled stoppage since these have been completed.

That loud pounding you are hearing is me, knocking on every piece of wood I can find...

Project: Racor Gauge

This is another one of those small projects that have made life aboard Eolian more comfortable or easier in some way. This one is from 2000.

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After suffering several "unscheduled stoppages", as the Previous Owner termed them, early in our tenure aboard Eolian, Jane became paranoid (rightfully so, based on our experience) that the engine was going to fail. She frequently went down below and pulled up the floorboard over the Racor filters to check the vacuum gauge. The more critical the availability of the engine became, the more frequently she was down below pulling up the floorboard.

Rather than being a problem, this pointed out an important fact: One of our critical pieces of instrumentation was in an inaccessible location.

I procured another Racor vacuum gauge (one designed for panel mounting), and mounted it next to the engine hour meter on the panel adjacent to the companionway. I plumbed it direct to the inlet of the engine lift pump, by installing a tee.

Here it is with the engine running under way, showing that there is no impending fuel filter blockage.

Perhaps the most important thing that I have come to recognize as a result of this little project is that an annoyance is really an opportunity to improve, in disguise.

Done. Again.

We are now an all-Jabsco boat.

I put the two old heads on the ground in front of the marina dumpster (our unofficial recycling center here at Shilshole) - they were gone in a few hours.

Today I will get rid of all the old spare parts.

43

It's not a bad number.  In fact, it is Scott's age, now.  From my perspective anyway, he's in his prime.  He is a pilot for Horizon Airlines and a flight instructor besides.  And he is getting good on his guitar!

On Monday, Angela from Ghost invited everybody up and down the dock to come to Scott's birthday celebration, and even the NCAA contributed, providing part of the entertainment (too bad Butler lost).  And Zach and Ellie chimed in, first helping to decorate the cake and then to deliver it to the celebrants.

Boy, Ghost is big inside.  She is the same kind of boat as the one featured in Captain Ron - the movie set made it look like a suburban house inside, but Ghost is not far from that (except, of course, for the stand-up engine room).  I think Jane and I counted at least 15 people in the saloon and seated at the dinette (I think all of these folks were present at the same time):

• Rich & Echo from Veja Du
• Fred from Black Opal
• Brent & Jill from Ambition
• Doug & Ruth from Angelique
• CB & Tawn from Palarran
• KC & Elaine from Hawkwind 
• Scott & Angela from Ghost
• Zach & Ellie from Ghost
• Bob & Jane from Eolian

I was reminded by another blog posting this morning that there is never enough friendship in the world.   Well, this evening went a long way towards addressing that...  it was an evening filled with friendship.  Thanks Angela and Scott for bringing everyone together!

And Happy Birthday Scotty!

Seattle Seasons

For those of you in the rest of the world, I thought it might be useful to explain the seasons here in Seattle.

Since they are cyclical, it really doesn't matter where we enter the cycle of the seasons.  So arbitrarily, I choose Summer as the entry point (because it is my favorite):

Summer

• July
• August
• September

Fall

• October

Winter

(such as it is in Seattle anyway)

• November
• December
• January

Spring

• February

Woebegone

Where every day is 10 degrees below average

• March
• April
• May
• June

So, here we are in the second month of Woebegone, with near-record low temperatures and having just come thru a major winter storm, with another bearing down on us for tomorrow. Quite a come-down after Spring. But we Seattlites are tough and are used to it.

Unfortunately.

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Dateline Thursday, April 8:  Update!
There is snow on the ground on the higher hills in Seattle this morning.

It *is* April, isn't it?

Oh NO! Not again!

We like the new one so much that we decided to go ahead and change out the other old one too. That way  we will only have to carry spare parts for one kind of head.

No, I won't bore you with a repeat of the same basic steps as last time. Please just imagine them as a background task this week...

The Internet: The New Marine VHF

A major storm is bearing down on the Pacific Northwest right now. We are sitting here, in the marina, listening to the building wind in the rigging, and the rain pounding on the deck.

And via the internet, we have heard from two other boats who are doing the same thing - one at anchor (s/v Estrellita) and one at a tiny guest dock on Blake Island (s/v Ghost).

It's an interesting electronically-mediated camaraderie.

No Dock Lines for a Month

What does it take to be off the dock for a month? No, I don't mean traveling from one marina to another - truly off the dock for a month, where anything coming to or leaving the boat goes by dinghy, if at all.

What will you run out of first? Fuel? Water? Food?

Although we were not making a blue-water passage when in 2004 we journeyed to Desolation Sound and return - we were indeed off the dock for a month. Except for an hour clearing customs into Canada, and another clearing back into the USA, Eolian's dock lines were unused that whole month. Here are some critical capacities, and our experiences with them:

Water:

Eolian carries 320 gallons of water in two tanks. Given that hot water is only available onboard after running the engine, most showers were cold water showers, and thus were real quick. We ended the trip with water to spare - perhaps 100 gallons.

Fuel:

Like water, Eolian's fuel capacity is 320 gallons. We sailed whenever we could, and thus made little more than a dent in the fuel supply. Based on engine hours, we used 85 gallons. But many of those hours were spent at low throttle settings, entering and leaving harbors, so the actual fuel consumption was less.

Electricity:

We have no solar panels or wind generator. But most of our electrical needs were satisfied by the engine alternator, during harbor maneuvering. We did run the generator on those days when we stayed put at anchor - that diesel consumption is included above. Our electrical budget ran 60 - 100 amp hours/day

Food:

Jane did a fabulous job of provisioning us with food to last a month. We never completely emptied the refrigerator or the freezer. Everything that came aboard had as much packaging as possible removed before being stowed. Besides giving us more stowage, it minimized the garbage. Which brings us to...

Garbage:

This was our limiting capacity. Even with the removal of vast amounts of cardboard packaging, we were still left with plastic bags (rinse), cans (rinse, cut both ends out, smash flat), and a host of 2-liter pop bottles. After emptying, we rinsed them, squashed them flat, and then quickly reapplied the lid so that they would stay flat.

Glass bottles (beer, liquor) were a bigger problem - there's just not much you can do to make them take up less space when they are empty. Now, it turns out that British Columbia (perhaps all of Canada?) has anti-litter deposit laws on liquor containers. We found that, although not eligible for deposit refunds, the liquor distributors would accept US bottles, thus providing a disposal means. Canadian bottles were gladly accepted, and provided a refund to boot. We made two stops at the liquor distributors to dispose of empty bottles. (Well, at least that was one of the reasons for the stops.)

Liquor:

The other reason for the stops above was, of course, for full bottles. Each individual entering Canada can bring with him/her, duty-free, one of the following:

• 24 bottles of beer
• 1.5L of wine
• 1.14L of spirits

That's not much for a month - less than one bottle of beer a day, if you choose the beer option. So restocking after clearing customs was clearly in order.

Most blue-water passages are less than a month duration. So this little exercise gave us confidence that we could easily handle a blue-water passage with Eolian's capacities.

If we wanted to.

Which we don't.

Because we like sleeping at anchor in snug little gunkholes too much to want to stand watches at sea.