After our efforts to prepare Gratitude to leave the boat yard, we decided to stay an extra day to (a) accomplish final chores at our leisure and (b) go out for dinner and to celebrate a friend’s birthday. We puttered around on Gratitude putting away lines, cleaning areas that had not been reached, potting the new herbs (the first crop crumped), and assorted other sundries. That evening (Wednesday), we went to the Rotunda Country Club with Steve and Mary Ann and Lloyd and Carolyn (whose birthday we were celebrating). Wednesday night is prime rib night – all you can eat for $13.95, but no take-away so Taz was not included in the feast.
Thursday morning included a final errand to the hardware store, park the truck for the duration, and disconnect the shore cord, pull the lines, and head off the docks. It always is with a bit of trepidation that we leave, butterflies in our stomachs, etc. But, we settled in and took a leisurely time heading to the lock. (To leave the canal system on which the boat yard is located, we pass through a lock to the salt water of Charlotte Harbor.) Our intention, because we have Taz aboard, was to tie up to the dock on the inside of the lock and spend the night there, making dog walks easier and allowing us a quick departure on the high Friday tide early in the morning.
En route toward the lock, Van noticed diesel fuel in the deck, emanating from the vent for the main tank. That was a puzzle and one it took some doing to solve. He first assumed the fuel had expanded in the heat and overflowed the tank. So, he decided to run off the main tank to draw down some fuel. He switched the fuel selector valve to “main” and we continued on our way. Just as we were approaching the four way intersection at the turn to the lock, the engine faltered and died. We knew it was out of fuel. So, we coasted across the intersection and dropped the anchor to give us time to consider the events. Van returned the selector valve to draw fuel from the starboard tank, primed the fuel system (diesels will not run on air), and tried to start the engine. No starter. Hmmm. Van checked the shift gear (to make sure it was in the neutral position as there is a safety interlock that prevents starting in gear) and tried again. Silence. The voltmeter did not budge, so that meant no electric current to the starter (or the switch or the start button). Van placed a call to our good buddy Steve (Mary Ann’s “other” half and a mechanical engineer in his earlier life) for some ideas and Steve said he would find a boat and come out. (Mind you, in Gratitude, it takes almost 2 hours to get to the lock from the yard.) Steve has his own sailboat, Living Well, still on the hard to get ready, and he is having his own issues, but he did not hesitate – “I’ll be there in about an hour.” Meanwhile, Van checked to confirm electric current at the starter and ignition switch, but did not really know where to go next.
Steve showed up (brought out by Brad in his bass boat) and started trouble shooting. First, he checked the ignition -ok, then the start button – no juice. Then, he checked to make sure the stop solenoid had power and, confirming that, used the hot line from the stop solenoid to energize the start button – the starter kicked and the engine jumped. So, the problem was not with the start button or the starter. By process of elimination, and finding no fuses in the line, Steve decided the fault must be with the neutral safety switch – in other words, even though the shift lever was in neutral, the switch “thought” we were not. Steve bypassed the switch and we tried again. The engine turned over, so we knew we could go once the air was purged from the fuel system. After making sure the engine started, Steve and Brad returned to the boat yard, each carrying a jug of Vermont Maple Syrup in thanks!
This was not the first time Steve has assisted, but this is the first time we had him down in the bilges. Having friends like Steve is absolutely incomparable, not to mention very handy! While Van watched and learned Steve’s systematic approach, and might be able to apply that in the future, without Steve’s help we undoubtedly would have called TowBoatUS for another ignominious return to the yard.
We pulled the anchor and headed to the lock, where we tied up to the dock as intended. After putting away tools and feeding and walking Taz, we had our own dinner (finished down below because of the bugs topside). We turned in and awoke at 6:00 am on Friday to make final preparations to go through the lock. We have not met anyone in the yard (especially couples) who does not dislike the lock. There are pull chain devices at the docks on each end and in the middle of the lock that one has to pull to initiate the sequence of opening the gate to enter, entering the lock, closing the gate behind you, reducing or increasing the water level in the lock to meet the water level outside the other gate, opening the exit gate, tying up to the exit dock to close the gate behind you, and then proceeding on one’s way. The passage is tense at best – one’s boat is inside a rough walled, concrete box with huge metal gates that likely could crush the hull if the boat is in the wrong place, and with a surging of water that makes it feel as if one is in a toilet bowl trying to steady a 15 ton boat in the maelstrom. Not fun. Then, as the surging subsided and the outer gate opened, we heard the phrase “closing Bay gate”. We had visions of Gratitude being caught in the closing jaws, so Van told Lauren to “get outta here”, which she did. That, however, meant we were going to zip past and miss the dock on the exit side and not be able to close the gate. With much shouting, knashing of teeth, shifting of gears, and (finally) tying to the dock, we got the gate closed and then had to thread the exit channel and hope we had enough water. We did, but it was not a pretty exit and Lauren was ready to throw in the towel. After several minutes on the open water, emotions calmed, apologies were said, and we were underway.
Then, Van noticed fuel venting from the main tank again. The selector switches were set to starboard tank supply and starboard tank return. (Diesels do not burn all the fuel injected, so the excess returns to the tank selected.) Van surmised that the selector valve (which, along with the supply valve, was replaced over the summer – see our blog of January 1, 2014 for the reason we now have new valves) did not have the proper configuration of ports so, even though the selector showed the starboard tank was the intended recipient of returned fuel, the valve was sending it to the main tank. That tank, being full, simply vented the excess outside. Van put the return selector valve to return to the main tank, and that stopped the venting. Now to determine whether the fuel is being returned to the other tank, or simply forced out with the exhaust.
We motored south into the wind and, after turning the corner at Cape Haze, set the jib to sail to Pelican Bay on Cayo Costa. The winds (forecast 10-15) were blowing 17-20 with gusts to 23+ knots. We arrived off the entrance to Pelican Bay and decided to wait for the tide to rise further to have better water to access. We anchored outside the entrance and enjoyed our lunch and then proceeded in. We anchored and took Taz to shore – she had a ball, running, rolling in the sand, swimming, chasing sticks. Friday night, the winds increased and we had a hard rain, which helped rinse the boat of salt and yard grime.
This morning, seeking to determine whether the fuel supply selector valve also is incorrect, Van started the generator on the main tank. Sure enough, the generator died after a short time, so he switched the valve to what should be an “off” position, primed the engine, and it restarted and ran fine. Now, to re-label the valve positions to match reality! Steve, where are you when we need you?