March 22, 2017
Having worked through the issues in our previous post, all was pretty good aboard Legacy. It was time to do a little motoring around Port Davey, see some sights and find a good place for last night’s 15 to 20 knot easterlies.
The tour went well. The wind came up a little early and we decided to duck into Casilda Cove for the night. I positioned the boat, Cyndi dropped the anchor and I backed to set it. One HUGE problem. I forgot to pull in the long line we use to tow the dinghy.
The inevitable happened. The prop sucked the line in and wrapped it around the shaft. The engine stalled from the load. We were coasting towards the rocks with no way to stop ourselves if the anchor failed to set.
I yelled to Cyndi, “Get the anchor out!!!” She thought I wanted her to get it out of the water and started to pull it in. I ran to the bow and corrected my miscommunication in time. She let more chain out and the anchor caught. The immediate disaster was averted. We were holding well and had at least another ten feet before we would have hit the rocks!
Now to investigate the damage I’d caused. I was pretty certain that it would take a trip into the water to unwrap the prop. Maybe I’d have to cut the line off the shaft. After climbing into the dinghy (now pulled up hard against our stern), I saw I was right. The cold, dark water of Port Davey and I would soon become well acquainted.
After suiting up in mask, fins and the lycra suit we use in the tropics (we have no wetsuits aboard), I jumped in. When I was able to breath again, I dove down and was able to untangle the prop and shaft in one dive.
(OK, in the interest of full disclosure, the water was 64° F – or 17.8 C for those of you who still think the metric system is a pretty neat trick. I guess that’s not that cold but my testicles didn’t see it that way!)
Back aboard I took the first of (spoiler alert) what would be three hot showers. After I was warmed up, we tried the engine. For about twenty seconds, all was well. That was before the horrible squeak started coming from under the boat. My theory was that some line fragments worked their way into the cutlass bearing which overheated and grabbed the prop shaft. I thought that if I got back into the water, this time with scuba gear, I could probably pull out the stray line and trim the damaged cutlass rubber away. But before doing that (maybe I was just procrastinating), I wanted to get a look at the prop shaft coupling at the rear of the engine.
It didn’t look right. I couldn’t turn the shaft by hand and it looked like the flexible coupling between the engine and prop shaft was being pushed out of alignment. I removed the coupling bolts and the prop shaft shifted about an inch and a half to port. That’s bad!
I quickly developed a theory as to why this was the case. The theory, unfortunately, turned out to be correct. When the line wrapped, it yanked the shaft to starboard as it was secured on a starboard cockpit cleat. The force bent the prop strut to starboard, forcing the coupling on the engine end to port. That was very bad news.
The good news is that from what I was able to determine from turning the prop shaft (with great difficulty), it seemed that the prop shaft itself was not bent.
My plan was to get in the water, look the situation over and if warranted, secure a heavy line to the end of the strut which I’d run to the port side of the boat. Running it though a couple of turning blocks and to winches, I’d hoped to be able to pull the line hard enough to bend the strut back into the proper position.
A brief scuba dive and another hot shower later, we were ready to start winching. Cyndi watched the alignment below and I cranked the lines, using one of our big main winches and our electric cockpit winch. The forces were tremendous and scary but the process was working. After several pulls, we finally got to the point that the couplings would line up after the line tension was released.
I bolted the shaft back to the engine and checked the alignment. To my relief and surprise, the alignment was perfect. After getting in the water again to remove the line, we could give the engine a try. After a second scuba dive and a third hot shower, we fired up the engine.
I don’t know if you can imagine the relief when everything in our drive train was smooth and quiet. Sailing out of this small, tight bay without an engine would have been difficult at best. Sailing all the way from this remote corner of Tasmania to a place where we could haul out and make repairs would have been no fun at all. As it is, I’m pretty confident that we can continue on with the cruise as planned. We may need to replace the cutlass bearing during our next haul out (next year), and maybe check the strut alignment (I’ll rig some kind of laser pointer tool to check it out), but for now, all seems well. Whew!
Hey, and now I can say I’ve been diving in Port Davey! -Rich
Some random notes:
Why did this happen? Two reasons: I made a mistake and Remo fell down on the job.
Who’s Remo? That’s somehow short for “Reminder Lizard.” He’s a plastic gecko and when we have the dinghy trailing behind the boat, or a fishing line out, I ask him to sit on the throttle lever to remind me not to back without bringing in the lines. The little wires in his body are giving out and now he slips off the lever. I don’t always notice and so, you see, I mostly blame him!
Why are you telling us all this? Several reasons:
I don’t want you to suffer under the illusion that I’m perfect…
Or maybe, by telling you the story of how I was able to solve the problem, I want you to see how smart I am, or…
Maybe I just wanted you to take comfort in the idea that if I could solve this problem, anyone can.
What’s the mood like on Legacy? Very good, actually. We both took it in stride and went about our repairs in a pretty good mood (despite what I look like in the picture Cyndi took of me in the water). I give Lexapro a lot of credit for this. Both of us started on a very low dose a few years ago in Tonga and we’ve kept it up ever since. I’m a big fan. I think it counteracts some of the symptoms of aging in my brain. It doesn’t change who I basically am but I feel much less anxiety and stress and generally enjoy life more.
And the final reason I share all this stuff: I want you to see what real life is like out here. No Pollyanna stuff here. You get the good with the bad. Cruising life is good but it’s not perfect. It’s only life, after all.
Update:
(Yea, yea, that is rust on the binnacle stainless steel. If you don’t like it, bring your polishing cloth!)
