Before there was M/V Smartini, before there was M/V Turtle E. Awesome, before Fran and I even knew what a trawler was… Culebra was on our radar. We don’t remember where we even learned of its existence, but when we first hatched the idea of eventually living somewhere in the Caribbean, it was there. We made it a “Favorite” on the weather app on our phones, so when we checked the weather for Indianapolis and Satellite Beach, we also saw what is was like in Culebra. Year-round, the daily highs and nightly lows wouldn’t vary more than two or three degrees over the ten day forecast period, and the day-to-night changes were almost always less than eight degrees. “We’ve got to see Culebra!” we said to each other, many, many times.Continue reading “At Long Last, Culebra!”
We left Turks and Caicos just before midnight on March 5 and arrived in Puerto Real, Puerto Rico about 5:00 p.m. on March 7. Forty-one hours start to finish, give or take a few minutes. It was mostly uneventful, but it was our longest non-stop run by far, it was only our second overnight ever, it was the first time a single trip took parts of two different nights, it was the first time we took turns driving and sleeping, it put us the farthest away from land we’ve been so far (only 38 nautical miles, but at our speed, that’s about 5 hours from land)… and I thought that you, Loyal Reader, would want to hear about it.Continue reading “41 Hours at Sea”
(Editor’s note: I wrote this article on February 25, not expecting to be leaving Turks and Caicos for some time. But a week later, we relocated Smartini to Big Sand Cay, preparing to depart for the Dominican Republic, and ended up bypassing the DR and making it all the way to Puerto Rico on March 7! I’ll post soon about that 41 hour crossing.)
As we wait for a nice weather window for our next major relocation (Puerto Rico for a bit, then the Virgin Islands), it occurs to me that I’m long past due to write about our home for the last 3 1/2 months. We arrived here on October 29 after spending the first eight months of this Big Adventure all around the Bahamas. We planned to stay three months here, partly because we had friends and family who wanted to visit and we needed to commit to a location for that. But it was also because we (I, in particular) were ready for a little bit less of a vagabond lifestyle for awhile.Continue reading “Turks and Caicos Islands / Providenciales”
After a creative explosion in October and November (7 blog posts in about two weeks), I fizzled out. But I’m going to get 2019 off to a good start, with a recap of, and some reflections on, the Big Adventure so far. Also, one picture of each of our guests this year!
As you probably know, we left the US early in the morning on March 1, 2018 (not as early in the morning as we had planned) bound for the Bahamas, and made it all the way to Freeport before the sun set. We didn’t really want to be in Freeport (not much there that we wanted to see or do), but we ended up staying there for five nights, waiting for decent weather for the next leg of our journey.
When we left, we had one really smooth day of travel to the northern part of the Berry Islands, and then had to hole up there for another three nights before we finally made it to Nassau, a few days before our son Bennett arrived for his Spring Break visit. That began a succession of visits that would stretch out until just before we left the Bahamas in mid-October. During that time, we had a total of twenty guests with us on ten separate visits. Some of those have been documented with a Visit Report, and all have been the subject of Fran’s Facebook posting. (If you do Facebook and aren’t Friends with Fran, you should be – you’ll get far more timely information than from me!)
We did leave Smartini (and May the Cat) twice during the year. In May, we went to Italy for three weeks, and in November, we went to Indianapolis for a week at Thanksgivinng, followed by a week in Fort Collins. While we were in Italy, friends and fellow boaters Paul and Denise Magnus stayed on Smartini and took care of May, and Fran’s Tower Garden. During our Thanksgiving trip, Smartini was in a marina in Turks and Caicos, and May was kept company twice a day by a local petsitter. (He gave her treats every time he visited, so I doubt she even noticed that Fran and I were gone.)
After almost eight months in the Bahamas, we felt like we had seen what we wanted to see, so we left Nassau on October 20, bound for Providenciales in the Turks and Caicos Islands. After 9 days of travel / exploring San Salvadore, we arrived in Provo on October 29 and have been here since, except for our two week Thanksgiving trip to the US.
T&C is a very different kind of cruising ground than almost everywhere we spent time in the Bahamas. Throughout most of the Bahamas, a protected anchorage on a beautiful beach is rarely more than a few miles from wherever you are, so you don’t have to plan your travel very much. You just pick up and move whenever you feel like it, or when the weather dictates it, and you usually have lots of choices for your next stop. T&C, on the other hand, doesn’t have very many protected anchorages with appropriate depth for most cruising boats. Consequently, not a lot of cruisers spend much time in T&C, and those who do tend to spend most or all of their time in a marina.
We like T&C a lot. The marina (Turtle Cove) is nice, with several bar/restaurants within walking distance, and is very, very protected from the weather from every direction. We can walk to Scooter Bob’s to rent a car for a day whenever we have a lot of errands to run. There are at least three nice grocery stores, and a big hardware store that’s like a small Lowe’s or Home Depot. Way more restaurants, of all kinds, than we found anywhere in the Bahamas. The people are outwardly very friendly (Bahamians are friendly, but more reserved). There’s a lot of diversity, with people here from all the islands of T&C, the Dominican Republic, Haiti, Jamaica, the Bahamas, Canada, and the US. The water is as almost as pretty as the water in the Bahamas, and there’s excellent scuba diving and fishing just outside the shallow bank that surrounds most of the islands. There’s even a Crossfit gym here, and we’ve been going three days a week! It wouldn’t be a bad place to live, actually. But we’re not even close to picking a place to live yet. Way too much more of the Caribbean to see first! So we’ll stay here until early February, when we’ll start making our move to the Virgin Islands, where we expect to spend most of the rest of 2019.
At the beginning of this post, I said I would have some reflections on the Big Adventure thus far, so here goes:
1. We knew that weather would be important, but we had no idea just how important. We were in the Bahamas for all of hurricane season (June 1 – Nov 30), so of course we were watching for storms all the time, always with an eye toward the nearest safe harbor we could run to if necessary. Thankfully, we didn’t have to do that even once all season. But even when we weren’t thinking about tropical storms, we were always paying attention to the weather. Where would be the best island to take our guests, considering the strength and direction of the winds? When would we have to make our run back to Nassau (or whatever island our next guests were flying into), so that we wouldn’t have to travel in sloppy weather? Would we need to leave a perfectly wonderful anchorage because the wind was going to shift 180 degrees in the next 24 hours? That’s been another nice thing about T&C – since we’re in a very protected marina, with no plans to move Smartini until the end of January at least, we don’t have to pay very much attention to weather. Especially since we’re out of hurricane season. But that will change once we get close to our departure date, because we have a lot of ocean to cross between here and the Virgin Islands, and weather is going to be a huge factor in the planning of that trip.
2. We didn’t anticipate how much work we would have to do on the boats (Smartini and Killer, our 13′ Boston Whaler dinghy) to keep them, and us, happy. I started keeping a maintenance log in Google Docs, and since March 1, I’ve written 23 pages of entries about work we’ve done. Fixing little things, like replacing the fuse holder for out infrared camera. Fixing big things, like having to have the main engine’s hydraulic pump rebuilt. Making upgrades, like adding an auxiliary bilge pump to both bilge areas, or rewiring one of the toilets (yes, they’re electric). Dealing with rust. Routine preventive maintenance, like the annual cleaning and waterproofing of all the outdoor seat cushions. For the first few months, I was getting a little bit testy about it, especially when something would break on the day before, or day of, the arrival of guests (which happened about four visits in a row). It was making me mental, to the point that it was spoiling the fun of the Big Adventure for me. One day, after a week-long guest visit during which several things needed to be repaired and my mood grew more and more sour, Fran had to sit me down and give me a good talking to. “It’s a boat – things are going to break. The guests don’t care. I don’t care. But it’s making you intolerably grumpy. Happy up, dammit!” (Something like that, anyway.) She was right, of course (bad habit of hers), and fortunately, that was all it took for me to snap out of it. I don’t think we’ve had any fewer issues since then, but my mood has been mostly cheerful, most of the time, when something breaks.
3. We really like living on the boat. It’s about the perfect size for two people and a cat, and occasional guests. We never feel cramped, because we’re able to be outside so much of the time. We don’t miss all of the “stuff” we got rid of when we sold the houses and moved aboard. We’ve met some really fun, interesting people, from all over the US and Canada (and occasionally other places) who are also living on, or at least spending a good bit of time on, their boats. Some of them have been friends for a day, some for a few weeks, and a few will hopefully remain friends for the long haul. Since everyone is in the same boat (pun very much intended), there is an immediate bond, with lots of shared experiences to chat about. For the most part, our fellow cruisers are pretty nice folks, and when we meet someone who isn’t, it’s simple to just avoid them until they go away (or we go away).
4. We miss being around all of the very dear friends we have in Indiana, Florida, and Colorado. We miss having favorite places to just go and hang out with our people. We miss Crossfit. (It’s great to have a gym here, but we don’t expect to find one many other places we go after T&C.) We miss good beer, and visiting new breweries. (Turks Head Brewery, here in Provo, is OK, but certainly not the quality we’re used to – Intracoastal and Deviate, you have spoiled us!) Although I don’t want to rush through this Big Adventure, I will be happy, one day, to find our new home, and start making new friends, and finding new favorite hangouts. But that is likely to be many years down the road.
5. We’re very happy living somewhere that it’s almost always warm. In fact, the last several evenings, after the sun has set, and it’s been 78 degrees and breezy, we’ve both been putting on long sleeves and thinking that T&C isn’t quite far enough south. Shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops, 365 days a year, are just fine with me!
6. We didn’t snorkel nor scuba dive nearly as much as we thought we would in the Bahamas, and as a result, we didn’t eat nearly as much fresh fish, lobster, and conch as we would have liked. All of our previous visits to the Bahamas over the past 15 years have been to the Abacos, and we never had any trouble finding plenty of healthy coral to dive on, and fish, lobster, and conch to catch and eat. That was not the case in most of the rest of the Bahamas however, the only exception being the Berry Islands. We spent a lot of time cruising around in Killer looking for places to dive – we just didn’t find that many. Surprisingly, one of the best places to dive (snorkel and scuba) and catch dinner was Rose Island, which is within spitting distance of Nassau.
7. We didn’t expect everything to be so much more expensive in the Bahamas than the US. I guess a 45% duty on almost all imports will do that. Gas and diesel were about $5 / gallon. Boat repair parts were easily twice as expensive. But especially food. Good thing we have a farmer living on Smartini! I love that some “guru” in the Tower Garden Facebook Group said it would never work on a boat. Ha! He’s never met Fran!
8. After Siesta, then Kibbles, left this world, I was perfectly ready to be done with pets. When May was thrust into our lives two years ago, I wasn’t exactly thrilled. But now that she’s been with us, I kinda don’t mind having her around. But since we’ve been in the marina, she’s taken to jumping off the boat and exploring. Last evening, I spent ten minutes walking around the marina, shaking her bag of “Temptations”, trying to find her and get her back on board. (She finally came back.)
One last picture, of our most recent guests, who absolutely ran us ragged while they were here. Snorkeling, drinking, cave hiking, drinking, exploring nearby islands, drinking, horseback riding in the ocean, drinking, bike riding, drinking, Crossfitting, and I think there was even some drinking!
This is the story of a plain ol’ rubbber O-ring, about 2 1/2″ in diameter, that probably cost about 4 cents to make, and how it just changed the lives (at least in the short term) of six people and three boats. If I told you the WHOLE story, it would read like “War and Peace”, so I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version.
The story begins in the Riding Rock Marina on the Bahamian island of San Salvador. (It’s called that because Christopher Columbus made first landfall there on his quest to the New World, and he named it.) Fran, May, and I had been in the marina for a few days already, when a big sailcat (a sailing catamaran) named Au Soleil came in for fuel and an overnight stop. They were delivering the boat from major repairs in St. Augustine, FL back to its home in St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands. After fueling, they tied up behind Smartini and we exchanged names and pleasantries with Ryan and Leslie, and Adam and Emily (who would be running Au Soleil as a charter in the Virgin Islands), and they left the next morning, making a straight shot to St. Thomas with no stops. We didn’t expect to ever see or hear about them again.
We left San Salvador a day or two later, and after three days of travel, we pulled into our new home for the winter, the Turtle Cove Marina on Providenciales (aka Provo), Turks and Caicos. What boat do you think was there at the dock? No… not the Black Pearl, dummy… it was Au Soleil! A nagging fuel problem with one engine had gotten worse since San Sal, and they decided to pull in to try to resolve it. We made sure the crew knew we had lots of tools if they needed to borrow something, and the next day, Ryan came by with a peanut butter jar and a couple of brass fittings. He was trying to fashion a fuel filter to handle all the insect parts, fiberglass fibers, and other crap that had made it into one of the tanks during all the repair work in St. Augustine. (BTW, this is at least the fourth time we’ve heard of bad things happening at the big boat yard in St. Augustine – if you go there, beware of shoddy work!) He was going to simply run the fuel through the jar, hoping the crud would settle to the bottom and he could easily clean it out there, before it made it to the on-engine fuel filter and clog it up completely.
But no… that wouldn’t do! Within about 30 minutes, I had upgraded him to a bigger peanut butter jar (Peter Pan, of course!) with a hose running into a Racor 500 fuel filter that fit perfectly in the jar, and another hose to get the clean fuel out of the top of the jar. (I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of it.) MacGuyver would have been so proud! However… the suction from the fuel pump was too great for the screw-on plastic lid, and air was getting sucked into the makeshift filter, ultimately rendering it useless. Enter the 4 cent O-ring, right?!?!
No – that won’t enter the story until much later. Ryan and crew had decided it was time to skedaddle, and wouldn’t let me make a gasket for the Peter Pan filter. Dammit! I have at least four different ways to make gaskets! Gimme another 30 minutes! So close to saving the day. We bade them farewell, and I put my cape back in the closet.
A day or two later, a pretty 40′ Pearson sailboat named Dauntless motored into a slip near Smartini, and we (me and our new friend Kirk) walked over to help with lines. The captain of Dauntless, Robert, looked like he had been through the wringer, to put it mildly, so after he was finished with Customs and Immigration, Fran and I walked him to Sharkbite and got some food and Jack Daniels into him, and started to get his story out of him. It’s a looong story, starting in St. Thomas right after Hurricane Irma, detouring to Texas for about a year to buy and re-fit a boat (Dauntless) to replace the one that sank in St. Thomas during Hurricane Maria, and getting to Provo from Galveston via Key West (fuel problems), Nassau, Georgetown, and then a loooong run of mostly-sick-with-food-poisoning single-handed sailing to Turtle Cove Marina. With a two-day unplanned stop on the little island of Samana to get over the food poisoning. With a transmission, autopilot, and generator that were all in various stages of misbehavior. Yes… the man needed a drink! (But he didn’t have a problem with a 4 cent O-ring – keep your pants on!)
Over the next several days, we got a lot more of Robert’s story, and were able to help him get all of the things he needed to fix most of his issues, and get provisioned, and pretty much ready to go. We learned, for example, that he was supposed to meet Ryan, Leslie, Adam, and Emily on Au Soleil, here in Turtle Cove, but being sick along the way had delayed him past their departure date.
And we sat with him for about an hour a few days ago, looking at the weather forecast for the next several days, wondering just how the hell he was going to get the rest of the way to St. Thomas, by himself, with not much wind at all forecast for the direction he needed, any time soon. (He has a motor, but maybe not enough fuel capacity to motor all the way.) He had pretty much resigned himself to changing his Captain’s business card from “USVI” to “Provo, TCI”, and was walking to the marina office to tell them, when he noticed a boat that had recently arrived, tied up in the very spot that Au Soleil had vacated just days before. And they were flying a US Virgin Islands flag. And he didn’t know them directly, but they knew (you guessed it!) Ryan, Leslie, Adam, and Emily, and they had many other mutual acquaintances in St. Thomas.
They – the new kids on the block – are Steve, Caitie, and Kyle, who are delivering a big Fountaine Pajot sailcat from the big boat show in Annapolis, MD to St. Thomas, where Steve and Caitie will be running it for charters. They had left Marsh Harbour, in the Abacos (northermost group of islands in the Bahamas) several days ago, and were here in Provo to pick up a new raw water pump for one of their engines. Because somewhere along the way from Maryland, they started getting high coolant temps and had pretty much narrowed it down to an issue with the pump, and very prudently decided they better resolve the issue before taking off on a four day journey.
Shortly after their arrival, Steve came down the dock to Smartini and introduced himself, and told us that he heard we could whip up a pretty mean Peter Pan fuel filter – which he had heard from Ryan on Au Soleil, of course, after their safe arrival in St. Thomas. They all know each other from running boats in St. Thomas. Steve invited us to Kailani (their boat) for cocktails around 5:00, and after he twisted both our arms mercilessly for several nanoseconds, we accepted.
On Kailani, we met the rest of Steve’s crew: his girlfriend Caitie, and Kyle, the hired gun brought on for his ace sailoring skills, and to satisfy the insurance company’s requirement for a crew of three for the blue water portion of the trip. And we met another Kyle, and a Blaire and a Mac, the crew of a Falcon 7X jet that’s here in Provo for a few days. They gave Steve a ride somewhere in their rental car after taking pity on him, and he invited them to cocktail hour. Apparently, Steve and Caitie collect friends like Fran and I do!
Over cocktails, Caitie detailed their engine problems to me, and hearing nothing that seemed to be above my pay grade, I offered to come have a look in the morning. They had a $175-an-hour local mechanic lined up for the early afternoon, and I thought I might be able to solve their problem before he got there. They accepted (I think it was the legend of the Peter Pan fuel filter that won them over!), then they all sang “Happy Birthday” to me (it was my 60th birthday), and we said goodnight.
The next morning, Steve came by to see if I had a filter wrench so he could do an oil and filter change on both engines before taking off for St. Thomas. I gave him all three of mine, and grabbed a bunch of other tools I thought I might need, and headed down the dock.
Kailani is a catamaran-style sailboat, with an engine in the back of each hull. Caitie showed me what I needed to know to start troubleshooting, and I said “that looks like a pretty comfortable space to work in”. Wrong. Because everwhere I wanted to put a foot, something was in my way. Eventually, though, I figured out that if I simply laid myself on top of the engine, I could reach just about everything I needed. (When we went to bed that night, Fran asked why I had “RAMNAY” imprinted across my ribcage.)
I had Caitie and Kyle run through a detailed explanation of the symptoms they’d experienced, and the timing of everything, etc. It really didn’t make sense, but after ruling out a clog in the intake line, my next step was to look inside the offending pump. And there… inside the bronze cover of the pump… intended to seal the inside of the pump from the outside of the pump… smeared over with some gasket-making material… was the four cent O-ring, with about an inch of it missing. As long as the pump wasn’t trying to pump too hard, it was sucking only a little air in past the gap in the O-ring. But when they tried to throttle up, and the pump spun faster, it created more and more suction, and eventually, it sucked in enough air through the gap to make the pump lose its prime, and stop pumping water.
Their new pump arrived about that time, and of course it came with a new cover and O-ring, so I put it in place, and everything was fine. But there was nothing wrong with the old pump, other than that 4 cent O-ring. They’ll have it rebuilt in St. Thomas, because one of the inner seals had started to weep a little, but it’ll make a great spare for them.
That was yesterday morning. Yesterday afternoon, Fran and I stood on the dock and cast off the lines for Kailani and Dauntless, as they set sail together for St. Thomas. The weather forecast was good for them to motor East for the next few days, then sail all the way to St. Thomas. We can’t contact them during their trip, but they can keep in touch with each other, and they have enough fuel to motor almost all the way there if they have to, so we’re not really worried about them.
So how did this four cent O-ring change people’s lives? Well, Ryan, Leslie, Emily, and Adam don’t really have anything to do with the O-ring, so I guess it didn’t change their lives at all. I included them in this story mainly to talk about the Peter Pan fuel filter! But Robert now has a good chance of making it to St. Thomas alive, because Kailani needed to come into Provo because of the O-ring. I’m sure Steve, Caitie, and Kyle will be great friends with Robert once they all make it to St. Thomas – or they’ll never speak to each other again. You never know how those long road trips turn out. Steve’s psyche is forever scarred by the lecture I gave him about never leaving the dock without running through a detailed checklist.
And Fran, May, and me? When we arrived here in Provo 11 days ago, we really had no idea where we would go next. Down to the Domican Republic, and Puerto Rico, and the Virgin Islands, and keep going south? Or back through a little of the Bahamas, then to Cuba, and Mexico, and down to Central America? May had been pushing for Cuba, but based on all of the people we’ve met since San Salvador who live and work on St. Thomas, and the things they told us about the place in the time we spent with them due to the failure of a 4 cent O-ring – we’ve decided! St. Thomas, here we come! (In April or May – we still have to thoroughly explore Turks and Caicos.)
Another of my boring “How To” posts, this one detailing the disassembly of a Raymarine e7D MFD.
WARNING: this isn’t the normal “cool places we’ve been and people we’ve met” post. It’s one of my boring, how-to posts. Its intended audience isn’t the typical Smartini.Life reader, but rather, any boater who needs some help with her or his Raymarine e7D. If you don’t own one, you really don’t need to read this post. (But if you’re just dying to know, the e7D is our map – like Google Maps, and can also display the radar, the sonar, trip data, our backup camera, our FLIR infrared night vision camera, and any combination of two of those things. That’s why it’s called an MFD – Multi-Function Display.)
We have four e7D’s on Smartini – two at the lower helm station, two at the upper. We bought them because, at the time, they were phasing them out and we could get them for a LOT less money than the newer, bigger replacement model. We don’t love them, but we don’t hate them, either. We always use a tablet with Navionics software and charts for route planning, and as a backup. They work. Well… three of them do. The night before we were to depart Florida for the Bahamas and beyond – literally hours before! – the screen on one of them started showing only varying shades of green and white. Fortunately, it was the one at the lower helm station (we almost never run the boat from there), and the one that was not designated as the “system master”. So no great loss.
Several weeks ago, we noticed that the big knob that’s used primarily for zooming in and out on the chart started behaving erratically. It wouldn’t zoom smoothly, and sometimes while zooming in, it would suddenly zoom out several levels. And when we turned the knob, it felt “sticky”.
I searched online and found other people reporting the same problem, but the solution was always “send it in to Raymarine for service”. But we’re in Turks and Caicos, so getting a unit to and from them would be a real hassle. And the units are all out of warranty. And the cost to repair one would likely be way more than I would want to pay – especially when considering shipping. So I says to myself – “Self, there’s no harm in taking the one with the bad screen apart, and seeing if you can get all the way to the knob. If you can, then take its knob and put it into the one with the bad knob.”
Two hours later, the job was done! (One of those rare boat repairs that actually goes exactly like you hope it will.) Below are the steps to disassemble the unit all the way to the point that the only thing left is the screen in the frame. (I didn’t see any point in taking that apart, as I didn’t have a spare screen to put in anyway.)
Tools you will need: thin bladed flat screwdriver, regular and small Phillips screwdriver, 3/32 (and maybe 2.5mm) hex head wrench.
Gently! You’ll notice I use that word a lot in the instructions. I mean it – some of these parts are rather delicate, and if you break one, you’re probably screwed. So take it easy, Hercules!
1. Remove plastic trim bezel by gently prying it up with a very thin-bladed flat screwdriver.
2. Remove 4 screws in the corners that mount it to the panel. Pull the unit from the panel and disconnect the cables from the backside, and place it face down on a towel or other soft, cushioned surface.
3. Gently lift off the whole button / knob cover piece. You should be able to do this with only your fingertips.
4. Gently remove the thin gasket that goes all around the unit where it mates to the panel. That exposes 14 small Phillips head screws.
5. Remove the 14 screws.
6. Using your thumbnail or a small screwdriver, gently pry up the four screw covers (one at each corner).
7. With an Allen wrench, remove the four screws that you just uncovered. They are TIGHT – be sure to use the correct size wrench. I was able to remove all but one with a 3/32”, but for one, I had to use a 2.5mm. Just be very careful to not strip the head. A plastic bushing will come out with each screw – don’t lose those! They are what align the two halves perfectly when you reassemble them, so that the many-pin electronics connector lines up.
8. Use a thin flat screwdriver to separate the two halves of the unit, starting at the corner. Work your way around until the halves are separated, then gently pull them apart. They connect to each other through a many-pin connector that will automatically properly align and reconnect when you put the two halves back together later.
9. Disconnect the little gray wifi antenna wire connector and all the other connectors around the unit. There are four ribbon cable connectors that are held in place by a thin black latch: lift the latch, and the ribbon cable will slide right out. (See the next three pictures.)
10. Remove the four Phillips head screws that hold the main circuit board in place.
11. Lift up the circuit board that those four screws held in place. It will be a little sticky, because of a pad of pink insulation between it and the heat sink that it’s screwed to.
12. Remove the four Phillips head screws (two flat head, two rounded head) in the heat sink, and lift off the heat sink. On my two units,the flat head screws were quite tight, so make sure to use the correct size screwdriver for a good fit, and – you guessed it – be gentle, but firm.
13. Remove the nine tiny screws that hold the button / knob circuit board in place. Don’t lose the white silicone spacer – it’s not fastened on – and don’t forget to put it back in place before reassembly.
14. Gently lift up the circuit board, separating it from the silicone gasket.
Inside the external knob, which is now visible, you may see what I saw – that the white plastic part that should turn when the knob turns is broken. I’ve emailed Raymarine to see if I can buy just that part, but I just know they’re going to say no. (UPDATE: I contacted them, and they said “yes”! I ordered part number R70227, which is just the knob assembly. It was $54 – but if another one breaks, I’ll be ready for it!)
At this point, the only thing remaining to remove would be the screen from the front half of the case, and I didn’t see any reason to do that, at least not in my situation. Even if I were replacing the screen, I think I’d replace the screen and front half as an assembly, rather than try to remove the screen. (It seems to be in there pretty securely, and I couldn’t see any way to remove it.)
Reassembly is the simple reverse of the above disassembly steps. The only two slightly tricky parts I encountered where when reinstalling the thin gray antenna wire (it snaps straight down onto the connector), and the button / knob cover on the front (insert the left side as fully as you can first, then snap the right side into place).
I hope this was helpful to you. If you’d like to see my other How To posts, they’re all in the Maintenance category.
Just a short post to let y’all know, our address has changed from “The Bahamas” to “Turks and Caicos”. We arrived at the Turtle Cove Marina on Monday afternoon. It was a 382 nm run from Nassau to here:
– 15 hours to Cat Island
– 8 hours to Sal Salvador
– 6 nights on San Salvador, with a little scuba diving and island exploration (met some GREAT people from Michigan Adventure Diving in Milan, MI on a dive trip – Thanks, Ty, and Kadee, and Betsy, and Suzette, and Steve, and Elaine, and Tom, for welcoming us into your group!)
– 11 hours to Semana
– 11 hours to Mayaguana
– 7 hours to Provo
The last 20 minutes were the most interesting. Provo is protected on its north side by a lot of coral reef, and there’s only one safe route through it. It’s twisty and windy, and at one point, only 30 feet wide (Smartini is 16 feet wide). So the marina sent out a guide boat for us to follow in. Thankfully, we had high tide and no wind, so it was easy, but still a little nerve wracking.
Yesterday (the day after we arrived on really nice seas), the wind kicked up, and the dive boat that shares our marina went out, and came right back in – too rough! Hats off to the Smartini Trip Planning Department for picking a near-perfect three day window for the journey here!
In the middle of June, we had a two week stretch between guests to get from George Town on Great Exuma to Governor’s Harbour on Eleuthera. The weather was mostly favorable for travel, so we were able to spend all the time we wanted at each of those places. This post tells just a little bit about those two weeks, with a whole lotta pictures at the end of it.
The North end of Long Island is about 53 nm from George Town, and that was our first stop. We had heard that Calabash Bay is very nice, with one of the most beautiful beaches in all of the Bahamas. We made it there easily in one day, and found (surprise!) a beautiful bay and beach, and a nice calm anchorage. Long Island is long (duh!) – about 80 miles – so one of the days we rented a car and drove about 2/3 of the way down it to Clarence Town. There, there are two churches that were designed and built by a man called Father Jerome – one church is Catholic, the other Protestant (Church of England). He was an interesting guy, but I won’t spend much Smartini Life time on him – if you’re interested, his real name was John Hawes. Near the end of his life, he built “The Hermitage” on Cat Island, of which there are a lot of pictures in the photo gallery at the end of this post.
We visited world famous Dean’s Blue Hole, a 600-foot deep blue hole (and underwater sink hole) where the annual freediving championships are held. We snorkeled around the edge of it, but neither of us could bring ourselves to swim out over the middle of it. (What? We’re going to suddenly plummet to the bottom just because it’s deep? I didn’t say it made sense.)
We found the house of one of our long-time clients from when we had jobs, Dr. Larry Levin. He flies to Long Island from his home in Rhode Island in his Socata Trinidad (single engine airplane) about once a month to run the only dental clinic on the island. Unfortunately, we keep missing him – he zigs when we zag – and this time was no different.
We met a couple from North Carolina on the beach one day, and they told us they have a house overlooking the ocean, and that we should stop by for coffee the next day, before we took off on our rental car exploration of the island. So we did. What a cool place they’ve built! It’s tiny, it’s high on the rocky shore of the East side of the island, it has no electricity nor running water, near-constant sea breeze, and an incredible view! They have scrounged the beach for years and build stuff with their found treasures – furniture, decorations, etc. They fly down in their Mooney (single engine airplane) pretty regularly and just relax, and enjoy their little paradise. And we can’t for the life of us remember their names. But that’s the way it’s been on this trip more often than not – we meet people, spend a little time with them, usually learn some really interesting stuff about them, and then we never see them again.
Next stop was the tiny island of Conception, about 20 nm NE of Long Island. It’s a national park, with no one and nothing on it, and it has the most beautiful bay and beach of any we’ve seen in the Bahamas. When we arrived, there wasn’t another soul to be seen – and in June in the Bahamas, that’s saying something. We spent only a day or so there, did a little snorkeling, saw the biggest Nassau Grouper ever (I swear he was the size of a suitcase!), walked on both sides of the island, and then when another boat showed up, it was time to move on.
The southern tip of Cat Island is only about 30 miles from Conception, but where we were headed, it was a total of about 45, which we did on another beautiful day for being on the ocean. Our first stop on Cat was New Bight, a tiny settlement on the West side of the island. (All of our time on Long, Cat, Conception, and Eleuthera was on the West side – the East side is often too rough for us to travel there, and almost all of the settlements are on the West sides.) We simply had to stop at New Bight, so that we could climb Mount Alvernia – the highest point in the Bahamas! For one thing, we needed some exercise, so a little mountain climbing seemed like a good idea. But the real attraction of Mount Alvernia is The Hermitage – a tiny compound built by the aforementioned Father Jerome to spend the waning years of his life. It has everything one needs to live and worship – a chapel, a place to cook, and sleep, and shower, and everything else – all built for one, single person. He also built a monument of sorts on the steep, rocky path up to it – all of the “Stations of the Cross” are represented along the way. I can imagine for someone who is Catholic, especially a devout Catholic, that it would be a moving experience to hike it. There’s a picture of each one of the surviving stations in the gallery at the end of this post, along with many other pictures of The Hermitage. By the way, our mountain climbing wasn’t as strenuous as most – it turns out that the highest point in all of the Bahamas is only 206 feet above sea level!
We rented a car on Cat, too, and drove around much of the island. One of our stops was the Bat Cave (see pictures). Since all of the Bahamas is made of limestone, there are lots of caves, sink holes, and other natural formations that happen when limestone erodes. This particular cave is right on the side of the road, so we just had to go in. Takes all of three minutes to see it all, but if you go all the way to the back, there are bats! Interestingly, this was our second cave with bats in the Bahamas, the first being on Cave Cay.
Fun Fact: Cat Island is the only place in the Bahamas to ever have a railroad. In the 1800’s, when there was significant agriculture on Cat, the railroad was used to transport produce to a port for loading on ships to Europe and the US. There’s almost none of it left now – we didn’t find any of it. Just another tidbit in the long, strange history of these islands.
After a couple nights anchored at New Bight, we moved a few hours north to Bennett’s Harbour. We found some nice reefs to snorkel, harvested a few of their groupers, spent a night or two, but apparently, didn’t take many pictures. No big deal – it was just another beautiful bay, with beautiful water, overlooking a beautiful beach. Nuthin’ special.
Just south of Bennett’s Harbour, a little north of Alligator Point, we took Killer about a mile and a half up into a big tidal creek. It was beautiful up in there, but the main attraction is turtles – juveniles who aren’t yet big enough to be out in the ocean full time. We saw a lot on the way in, so on the way out, we counted them – nineteen! Plus two or three sharks, and a big stingray or two.
The day we left Bennett’s Harbour was maybe the flattest, calmest, smoothest, pick-your-favorite-adjective-for-good-boating-est day we’ve yet experienced. The picture of Killer in our wake, with every wave distinct and undisturbed to the horizon, says it all. A rare day indeed.
Our last stop before Governor’s Harbour on Eleuthera was to be Tarpum Bay, but it was farther than we wanted to go in one day, so we made a quick overnight stop at Little San Salvador, a tiny island with a big bay, all of it owned by one of the cruise ship lines. Fortunately, we got there after the ship had left, and we left before the next one arrived, so we had it pretty much to ourselves for the few waking hours we were there. Unfortunately, while maneuvering to anchor, Captain Fran heard an unfamiliar noise and put it in neutral, but not before Killer’s tow line had gotten wrapped around the prop. Ugh! Several breath-hold dives later, the prop was clear, the tow line was only about 10 feet shorter, and we had learned a very valuable lesson – tie Killer CLOSE to Smartini before doing any maneuvering.
Tarpum Bay, on Eleuthere, is home to the Bahamas Plastic Movement, whose mission it is to reduce the amount of plastic waste that ends up in the environment. Their major achievement so far is helping to get plastic bags banned in the Bahamas (to take effect in 2020). Fran learned of them through a Pike High School student named Molly Denning. (Pike is where my daughter Maddie went, along with all of her friends, and the kids of many of our friends in Indy.) Molly did an internship with BPM during college. Molly is friends with the BenHameda family, who are dear friends of ours. The connection was made, and Fran started communicating with Kristal Ambrose, the founder of the organization. Kristal was to be off island, doing an internship of her own in the Netherlands, while we were there, so she arranged for Michael, a local teacher who is deeply involved in BPM, to meet us. He was a fantastic host, giving us a tour of their part of Eleuthera, telling us about all the cool things BPM is doing, and showing us one of the most impressive trees we’ve ever seen! (And spiders – see pictures.)
After a night or two at Tarpum Bay, this chapter of our story came to a close as we headed for Governor’s Harbour to await the arrival of our next guests, Ingrid, Penelope, and Porter (Fran’s sister, niece, and nephew). I’ll write that Visit Report next!
It was a wonderful two weeks, the first long stretch that we’d been able to do what we thought we’d be doing most of the time – leisurely cruising from island to island, exploring each one as much or little as we like, and then moving on. Don’t get me wrong – we love having guests, and getting to share some of our adventures with them – but “Fran and Brian” time is special, and this little adventure was definitely special.
Faithful readers of Smartini Life know that the crew of Smartini went to Italy for three weeks in May/June. What they probably don’t know is that two wonderful people stayed onboard Smartini for that time, and more important, took care of May the Cat. They are Paul and Denise Magnus. We met them almost two years ago when we took Smartini to a marina in Titusville to have some work finished. They lived on their boat, Orion, in that marina, and we became friends. Sadly, Orion was destroyed by Hurricane Irma in that same marina, but thankfully, Paul and Denise were not onboard.
When we were making plans for Italy, we knew it would mean leaving Smartini and May somewhere, in someone’s hands. We posted on one of the online boating groups that we were looking for a cat sitter and a boat sitter. Denise saw the post and almost immediately volunteered her and Paul – wow! They would fly all the way to George Town in the Exumas and live on Smartini, and take care of May, and Fran’s new Tower Garden – and asked nothing in return.
They arrived a few days before our departure to Italy, in early May. Over the next few days, we showed them everything we could about Smartini, and then they shuttled us to the airport, and we were off. We don’t have a lot of details about the three weeks we were gone, but we know it rained a lot, and the wind blew a lot, and they didn’t get to really enjoy living on a boat in the Bahamas very much. (They told us that one day, they barely opened up the boat because it rained so much – they just sat inside and watched movies all day. Not the kind of days we would have hoped for them, to be sure!)
When we got back to George Town, we finally got to spend some time with them, and even had one really beautiful day. We left the anchorage and went “outside” (the ocean side of the island) and fished for an hour or so, then snorkeled a bit. It was Paul’s birthday! We went to one of the restaurants that cater to cruisers and played trivia. We did get to experience one of their rainy days with them, and watched a water spout, from formation to dissipation, just a few miles away – that was exciting! (See pictures.)
And then, just like that, they were gone! Back to Minnesota, where they’re from, to resume work on a house they had bought shortly before coming to George Town.
Below are some pictures from the few days we got to spend with them. Thanks, Paul and Denise! We can’t tell you how much we appreciate what you did for us!
Faithful Readers: forgive me, for I have sinned. It’s been four months since my last submission. Four months!!! What kind of a blogger am I?!?! Busy? Well, yes… but not so busy that I couldn’t squeeze in a little writing from time to time. Let’s go with “unmotivated”, and leave it at that.
First, let me bring you up to speed on our current situation. We left our Bahamian home-away-from-home, Nassau Harbour Club Marina, Saturday morning at 6:20 and motored 15 hours to the southwest tip of Cat Island. We anchored and slept for a bit, then left at 6:40 yesterday morning and motored 8 hours to our current temporary home, the island of San Salvador. We’re on our way to Providenciales, Turks and Caicos, where we plan to be from mid-November until at least some time in January, maybe longer. The trip was uneventful with the notable of exception of having the drive shaft of our main hydraulic pump break about 11 hours into the trip. Not a catastrophe – we can run all the hydraulics from either or both of the main engine or the generator. The two issues are that we can’t use the stabilizers when we’re running unless we run the generator (which we don’t normally do), and we can’t get full hydraulic power for the bow and stern thrusters, which comes in handy when docking if there’s much wind and/or current. I’ll be looking for a replacement part, and a hydraulic service company in Turks and Caicos, but for now, we’re still almost fully functional.
San Salvador is in the Bahamas, although the name sure doesn’t sound like it. (Of course, neither do a couple of the other islands in this part of the Bahamas: Mayaguana and Inaugua.) It’s supposedly the island where Christoper Columbus’ expedition first landed after they left Spain, and he named it. It’s a decent sized island – 6 miles across and 12 miles long. Much bigger than almost every island we’ve visited in the Exumas and the Berrys, but much smaller than Andros, Eleuthera, Cat Island, and Long Island. It’s quite remote, but has a Club Med, another small resort, and a dive resort that’s been here since the 1960’s. And it has something we haven’t seen yet in all of the Bahamas: great scuba diving on the west side of the island – the side that’s protected from the typical E – SE tradewinds. That means we can anchor very near a dive site, and can dive even when the wind is blowing pretty hard, because the island protects us from the wind. As a matter of fact, we’re anchored about 500 feet off the western shore of the island, and this morning, we took Killer on a 55 second ride to the closest dive site. Yes – less than a minute, and we were just puttering. And there are at least a half dozen more within a mile, because there is a legitimate wall only a few hundred feet west of where we’re anchored that runs all up and down the west side of the island. And when I say a wall, I mean a wall! The drop-off starts at 20 feet. Just 100 feet west of that, it’s 230 feet deep. In another 200 feet, it’s almost 600 feet deep. And just 1/4 mile west of the drop-off, it’s almost 1,500 feet deep! There are places where it’s even steeper than that – but that’s OK – we probably won’t be going below 60 – 70 feet anyway.
Oh – and the water here is the clearest of anywhere we’ve yet seen in the Bahamas. This picture is of the water we’re currently anchored in – it really does look like we’re in a swimming pool!
It’s cloudy this afternoon, so we’re going to wait until tomorrow to dive again. We might have to take Killer for a couple of minutes to get to our next dive site choice. Fran’s taking a lot of underwater pictures, so I’ll post some later. In the meantime, I’m going to try to catch up on some of the six Visit Reports I owe you.
By the way, May the Cat is now a fully documented Boat Kitty, able to legally enter Turks and Caicos. As you can tell from the picture, she’s SO excited!
One last thing: if you’d like to see where we’ve been, and where we are, you can do so from here: https://share.garmin.com/FollowSmartini. Click the little “+” by Fran’s name on the left side to see our track. If you click on one of the little circles on the track, you can see details about that point, and you can even send us a message from there, via our InReach satellite tracker/communicator.
I originally wrote this post on April 28, and then promptly forgot about it, and never posted it – oops! It’s about our first foray into the Exumas, the chain of islands that’s kind of in the middle of the Bahamas. It runs about 100 miles north to south, and is no more than 1/2 mile wide for much of that. It consists of over 365 mostly-small islands (“cays” – pronounced “keys”, not “cays”), with lots of cuts between them that connect the “big water” (the Exuma Sound) on the east side to the shallow bank on the west side. In the middle is Staniel Cay, near the famous Bahamas Swimming Pigs. Great Exuma is the southernmost island, and that’s where George Town and Elizabeth Harbour are. Literally hundreds of cruisers spend their winters there.
What follows is from our first visit to any of the Exumas – the northern part, most easily reached from Nassau. If you want only the pictures, scroll to the end.
Click here to see the path we’ve taken so far. Click the “+” next to Fran’s name.
We anchored just off a beautiful beach, put Killer (our dinghy) in the water, and explored around the island. This would become almost a ritual as we moved from cay to cay. Norman’s was the home of some serious drug smuggling in the late 70’s and early 80’s, run by a guy named Carlos Lehder. Drugs came and went by plane and boat. There’s a rusted out hulk of an airplane in the harbour, and some bullet holes in a few of the buildings from those days. Now, Norman’s is home to a small restaurant and bar, a few rental bungalos, and one of the best hamburgers I’ve ever had, anywhere. (For $25, it better be!) They don’t make this claim, but if they did say it was the inspiration for “Cheeseburger in Paradise”, it would not be hard to believe.
We didn’t find any great snorkeling around Norman’s, so the next day, we moved north a few miles to Highborne Cay. Highborne is home to a fancy-schmancy resort, a very nice, but very small, well sheltered marina, and a restaurant. We took Killer into the marina to fill his gas tanks, and had some lunch at the restaurant. While we were there, a barge was bringing in a massive amount of stuff for some rich dude’s birthday party. Apparently he had rented out the whole island for a week, and it was going to be a real blow out! We were not invited – can you imagine? We did find a few small places to snorkel, but still, nothing we would go out of our way for. Unfortunately, this has been our experience so far in the Exumas – most places, as beautiful as they are above water, don’t have much to look at under the water. We’ve found exceptions, and we certainly haven’t stopped searching yet – but it’s not like there are beautiful coral reefs off the shore of every cay. We’ve really had to search.
There’s supposed to be great fishing for mahi mahi on the outside of Highborne, and the seas weren’t too bad, so out we went. (“outside” refers to the east side of the islands – the ocean side – and the west side is the “inside”, where it’s shallow and protected from the ocean waves and swell, for the most part.) We took Killer. A little small for ocean fishing, but we weren’t going to be more than about a half-mile offshore, so it was OK. We trolled up and down the drop-off in about 100 feet of water for 45 minutes or so, and then decided that we really should have either a bigger boat, or calmer seas, for trolling in the ocean.
There are native iguanas on a small number of cays in the Exumas, but Allan’s is probably the most famous one, because when you beach your dinghy, the iguanas come to greet you. Well, not really – they come expecting you to feed them, which most people do, so they keep coming. Within minutes of us arriving, we could see 15 of these prehistoric-looking lizards on the beach, most of them within throwing distance (the distance we could throw the lettuce, not the iguanas). But apparently they’re accustomed to grapes, and we had none, so most of them turned their nose up and showed us their tail as they retreated to the shade of the scrub.
And then we found beautiful coral reef! We were buzzing along the inside in Killer, in search of coral heads as always, and Fran noticed a white float ahead of us. We pulled up to it and realized it was a mooring ball, and under it was coral reef – lots and lots of coral reef! At least an acre of it. There were actually three mooring balls on it, and the next day, at slack tide, we came back with our scuba gear. It wasn’t very deep (28′ if you laid on the bottom in the deepest spots), but we had a wonderul hour and twenty minute dive. It was exactly what we’d been looking for – and parts of it were shallow enough to snorkel. If we’re in the northern Exumas again, you can bet we’ll be back to this spot! (We learned later the reef is called “Lobster No Lobster” – and no, we didn’t see any. If you go there, the current is totally slack for over an hour, starting about 30 minutes after low or high tide at Nassau. At mid-tide, the current is ripping so fast you don’t even want to attempt it.)
Ship Channel Cay
This is the farthest north cay in the Exumas. North of it, the chain becomes just rocks sticking out of the water, too small to be called cays. (There’s supposed to be some nice coral reef up there, but it’s a long dinghy ride to reach it.) We anchored near the remains of an old house that had been made from limestone blocks, cut from the island. (Interesting tidbit – the only native rock or stone in the Bahamas is limestone. No granite, marble, slate – nothing but limestone. It’s what all the islands are made of, and why it’s so difficult to do any serious farming.) The house seems like it was built at least 50 years ago, maybe 100. Long since abandoned, it looked to still be structurally sound. There are so many abandoned homes throughout the Bahamas – one day, we’ll do a picture gallery of them.
A very long, wet tour all around the island in Killer revealed nothing at all that we wanted to snorkel on.
At this point, we needed to get back to Nassau. The repair parts for our watermaker were due to arrive, and we needed to have them installed before continuing. (That didn’t actually happen at that time, but that’s another story!)
Summary: We’ve heard many people say the Exumas are their favorite part of the Bahamas. At this point, we’ve explored only the northernmost 10 – 15% of them, but if the rest are as beautiful as this part, it’s easy to see why people feel that way. The beaches are absolutely beautiful, as is the water in front of them. Our only disappointment was the lack of excellent diving and snorkeling. There’s probably a lot of that on the outside – we know of at least four live-aboard dive boats that come to this area from Nassau over and over – but with the wind blowing like it was, we didn’t get a chance to see for ourselves.
Here a bunch of other pictures that go along with this post:
In case you’ve been wondering what the crew of Smartini (Fran and me, but not May the Cat) has been up to lately – we went to Italy! For two weeks with Bennett (my son, Fran’s step-son), and Bennett’s mom, Terri Henderson (yes, that’s my ex-wife – we get along great these days), then just Fran and me for another week.
I’d love to give you all the details, but in the immortal words of Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride, “No, it’s too much – lemme sum up.” We left the USA on May 12 (Terri and Bennett from NYC, Fran and me from Miami) and flew to Rome. A few days there, then a few days in Venice, then a few days in Florence, then some more days in the countryside of Tuscany, a few miles from Siena. Terri and Bennet had to go home at that point, but Fran and I stayed for almost another week, driving a few days to Rome, and then flying to the island of Sicily for four days.
It was a great trip. Bennett is in art school, and Terri was a fine arts / art history graduate from Indiana University, so the art we saw in person, that they had been seeing only in books for years, was enough to make the trip a success for them. (Fran and I really enjoyed that part, too – except maybe for all the pushing and shoving in the Vatican Museum and Sistine Chapel – that was a bit much!) The four days hanging out at the old (OLD! Everything is old there! Like, hundreds, even thousands, of years old!) house in Tuscany was relaxing, and beautiful, and fun as we explored nearby Siena, and the countryside.
We really loved every place we went: Rome, Pompeii / Amalfi Coast, Venice, Florence, Tuscany / Siena, and Sicily. The people were, almost without exception, welcoming and wonderful, in spite of our many, many utterances of “Mi dispiaci – non parlo Italiano.” (I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian.)
It’s too much to write about, and even if I did, you’d still need to go yourself to really understand what it’s all about. If you’ve ever fantasized about going – do it! I can’t imagine you won’t love it!
Here is a small selection of the hundreds of pictures we took, with comments describing a lot of them. (You have to click on the little “thought bubble” icon to read the comments – sorry!) https://photos.app.goo.gl/UDgWLtQxscsiyGwL9
No description of this trip would be complete without sending a huge “Thank you!” to Paul and Denise Magnus, who flew all the way from Minnesota to George Town, in the Bahamas, to spend almost a month onboard Smartini, to take care of May the Cat. We met Paul and Denise while we were in the marina in Titusville, FL for a few weeks back in 2016. They lived on their boat for a very long time, but sadly, lost it to Hurricane Irma. When Denise found out we were looking for a cat-sitter for three weeks, she immediately volunteered. Thanks so much, Paul and Denise!
Lots of years ago (late 1990’s), I was traveling to Australia annually to help support the dealer of our dental practice management software there. He had a trainer – Claire – who was awesome, and at some point that neither of us can recall, we became fast friends. Since I stopped going over for business, she’s been to visit me (us) in Florida twice, and in 2016, Fran, Maddie, Bennett, and I visited her and her family in Australia. This year, it was their turn to cross the pond, and on May 28, Claire, her partner Anthony, and their adorable 5 year old Zoe came aboard Smartini as part of Anthony’s month-long 50th Birthday Celebration. Today, we sadly told them “bye!” This is the report of their visit. (Picture gallery at the very end.)
They flew into George Town, Exumas, and took a cab to us at the Emerald Bay Marina, a few miles north of the airport. The following day was going to be the only nice weather day for awhile, so we scooted up the Exuma Sound (the “big water” on the east side of the Exumas) 44 nautical miles, all the way to Big Majors Spot, home of the famous Bahamas Swimming Pigs. (Everyone thinks it’s Staniel Cay, but that’s the next island over, the one with the marina and the people.) Just before we made our turn into the cut, we hooked up two mahi mahi, which provided us with what would be the first of several fresh fish dinners of the week.
After the fish were landed, we motored into the cut and anchored just off Pig Beach, and of course, had to take Killer over to see them RIGHT NOW. After waiting her entire life for this moment, Zoe wasn’t going to wait one more minute!. Her squeals of delight (and a little fear) were louder than the squeals of the pigs for our veggies. One of the bigger ones wasn’t happy with the way Anthony was handing out the veggies, and he got chased and bit for his slowness! No good deed goes unpunished, even with pigs.
On Monday, we went into Staniel Cay to look for Bahamian bread and to see the nurse sharks in the marina. We were not disappointed on either count. We were going to snorkel the famous Thunderball Grotto, but low tide was rather late in the afternoon, and by then, we had already each had a couple of Kaliks at the Staniel Cay Yacht Club, so we missed that particular attraction. We did not, however, miss the shiver of sharks that gather in the marina whenever someone is cleaning fish there. I counted over 20 nurse sharks milling around the ankles of our Australian guests, patiently waiting for the next bit of fish skin, fin, tail, or head that would come flying from the cleaning table.
Staniel was the first chance we had to introduce the Aussie’s to conch salad. Kenson makes it on the beach there, between the Yacht Club and the grocery stores, so although it was at full tourist price ($15 for a single conch’s worth – ouch!), we ordered it up. He squeezes some orange juice into his, along with the normal lemon juice, which is a nice touch. Anthony absolutely loved it, but being allergic to some seafood (mostly crustaceans), he had to be careful. A few cautious bites… no tingling of the tongue and lips… and he was all in!
The forecast for the rest of their time with us was for high winds, mostly from the East, so our plan was to pick our way down the islands on the inside. If you’re familiar with the Exumas, you know that means a stop at Black Point for fresh bread! (After a quick stop at Bitter Guana Cay to feed the native iguanas, of course. They’re mostly gray, with pinkish edges, and they look like small dinosaurs – quite different from the green South Florida variety.)
Black Point is a small, mostly non-touristy settlement with a couple restaurants, a bar or two, and a bakery. Actually, the bakery is just the kitchen of the mother of Lorraine, who owns one of the restaurants (cleverly named “Lorraine’s). We took Killer into the dock and walked to the bakery. Inside, we found Lorraine’s mom standing on a stool in the kitchen, kneading a giant pan of bread dough with all of her strength and weight (the latter of which there is not much – she’s a tiny woman!). We bought a loaf each of cinammon raisin and coconut bread, and when we walked back to the road, ran into four other cruisers who said “You guys going to happy hour at Scorpio’s?”
We had not done our homework, or we would have known that Club Scorpio is a “must do” stop for cruisers in the area of Black Point. Three nights a week, happy hour means two-for-one of Scorpio’s infamous rum punch. Once we found this out, we, of course, joined the parade to Scorpio’s! The rum punch, being made mostly with cheap, sweet, fruit flavored Ricardo rum, wasn’t all that potent (despite the numerous warnings we received to not have more than two each!) – but the experience was well worth it. Just the sight of the one cruiser practically sprinting inside when it was announced that fresh popcorn had been made was worth the price of admission! (Some cruisers we have met are doing it as economically as possible, so free popcorn and two-for-one drinks were just too tempting to resist.)
Already being ashore, and having no dinner plans on Smartini, we decided to have dinner at Lorraine’s. Cracked conch, grilled grouper, peas and rice – all quite tasty, and at prices far more reasonable than most tourist-focused restaurants we had visited previously.
With no change in the forecast (wind gusting to 30 knots), we continued south on the inside the next morning, setting our sights on Little Farmer’s Cay and the Farmer’s Cay Yacht Club. Fran and I had decided that we’d get a mooring ball in the harbour where Great Guana Cay, Little Farmers Cay, and Big Farmers Cay all come together, because the west side of these islands is pretty shallow, and we’d had an uncomfortable rolly night there a few weeks ago. But with the high winds that were forecast (gusts over 30 mph), we decided to tie up at the dock instead. Probably not our best nautical decision making to date, as the wind (from the East) and the waves coming through the cut (from the East) battered Smartini the entire time we were there. If not for our awesome inflatable (and somewhat oversized) fenders, we wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at all that night. The west side, although probably rolly, wouldn’t have induced the kind of excitement we experienced in the harbour. Lesson learned – I hope.
We wanted to go to Little Harbour on Little Farmer’s, to experience the turtle feeding there, but it was just too rough. So we opted for Kaliks, Mr. Nixon’s rum punch, and dominoes inside the yacht club. It’s a yacht club in name only – probably the most egregious stretching of that term we’ve encountered yet! But Mr. Nixon, who built the club from nothing over the past 29 years, is an excellent host, and we decided to stay for dinner – cracked conch, fried whole snapper, and the ever-present peas and rice.
Claire and Anthony were quite keen to get a conch horn to take home to Australia, so the following morning we walked over to the settlement on Little Harbour and found JR. JR is the local wood carver who also knows how to craft an excellent conch horn. But he didn’t have the raw material – the conch itself. So he walked us all down to the harbour to see if any of the conch men there had what they call a “perfect” – a pretty conch shell that didn’t have a hole knocked in it. (The easiest way to remove a conch from its shell, to harvest the meat, is to knock a hole in the shell and then stick a knife into the hole to sever the muscle that the conch uses to hold itself in the shell. Consequently, most of the conch shells you find have a big hole in them, which makes them less than ideal for a conch horn.) Sure enough, one of the men had three beauties from which to choose. Zoe picked her favorite, Anthony ponied up the cash, and then we gave the shell to JR to make into a horn, while we walked around the harbour a bit, looking for the turtles that are almost always there.
JR is an interesting character. An enviable character, I suppose. He lives on a beautiful little island in the Bahamas, completely off the land. He’s planted fruit trees on his property, and a garden. He fishes and conchs, and carves pretty things to sell to the tourists from native tamarind wood, and seems to be completely content. And with just a bench grinder, a hammer, and an old screwdriver, he converted that “perfect” into the most easily blown conch horn I’ve ever picked up. And he charged only $8 to do it. He told me he’d been wood carving for 56 years, and that, when he was young, he was quite popular with the girls because he always had cash in his pocket from selling his carvings.
Conch horn in hand, it was back to Smartini for what was to be the final cruise of their visit. We were tired of getting beat up by the wind and waves, and just a few miles south of Little Farmers lies Cave Cay, and the Cave Cay Marina therein. We decided to take refuge there, and I think it was one of the best choices we’ve made in our two months in the Bahamas so far.
First of all, it’s as protected as it can be, from all four sides. There’s only one narrow entry into the manmade harbour inside the island, and it’s only about two boat-widths wide, so the waves can’t get in. The terrain rises up to at least 50 – 60′ high most of the way around, so the howling wind outside is tamed considerably. When I say it’s protected – well, I wouldn’t mind riding out a hurricane here! The marina is all floating docks – every boater’s favorite kind. The water is clear, and you see several turtles each day cruising around. There’s a beautiful white sand beach inside the harbour, and a pretty little lagoon with its own beach just a few minute’s walk away. There’s an airstrip. A shower house with hot (HOT!) showers. And everywhere, there are signs of a failed (or, at best, not fully realized) dream of creating a boater’s paradise in the Bahamas. The big, beautiful building overlooking the harbour that was supposed to be a bar and restaurant, but that has never served a single drink nor meal. The three villas that were supposed to be rentals, that sit empty except for the staff. The hangars by the airstrip that now house only rusting hulks of heavy equipment. The vehicles, trailers, boats, outboard motors, freezers, air conditioners, building material, etc., etc., etc. that are wasting away all over the island that hint at the potential of this place, which will, sadly, probably remain only potential forever. Millions of dollars have been pumped into this place that, as of now, at least, is just a nice little marina that almost no one uses.
But for our purposes – which were to get out of the weather, and show our guests a good time in the Bahamas – it’s been pretty wonderful! Our first afternoon here, we walked over to the lagoon to hang out on the beach and snorkel a bit. Just across from the beach, on the rocky point, we found a nice little patch of coral that was loaded with fish! Somehow, I’d not gotten the memo that one of Anthony’s biggest hopes for this trip was to do some fish spearing, but once we found this little bit of coral, the message was loud and clear! After Zoe’s first-ever snorkel (she’s only five), we walked back to Smartini and got the steel – a pole spear for Anthony, and my new Hawaiian sling for me. In fairly short order, we had three gray snappers, a schoolmaster, and a queen trigger, for our second fresh fish dinner. We also picked up a good sized conch, which would become conch salad.
The weather continued to be both windy and occasionally rainy, so we alternated between relaxing on Smartini, jumping off the dock in the marina (Anthony and Zoe – over, and over, and over, and over), and exploring the island. And spear fishing. Always spear fishing. Anthony is as consumed by it as any fishing or hunting friend I’ve ever had – I think he would have been happy to snorkel around that little bit of reef several hours every day! And he’s productive – on our second day, he bagged a nice (4 lb.) mutton snapper and two more gray snapper, while I managed to get a head shot on a small cubera snapper with the Hawaiian sling. (Boy, do I still need a lot of practice with that thing!)
No description of Cave Cay would be complete without mentioning Shark. Shark is the Bahamian who has been working at the marina for about 10 years, and who is, without question, the happiest human being I’ve met in a very long time. He is the smiling face and voice of Cave Cay. His attitude is positive about everything, all the time. If you need help with anything, he’s happy to give it. (He gave me a conch cleaning lesson and expected nothing in return.) And from the first time she met him when we arrived in the marina, he was Zoe’s new best friend. (Supplanting Fran, who had been her new best friend up to that moment.) When he took us to see the cave, she held his hand on the walk there and back, and asked him a hundred questions while we were in the cave. Another boater told us that Shark really likes fish, so we gave him three of the ones we got on our second day – you would have thought we bought him a new house, he was so grateful! I think I’d stop in Cave Cay Marina for a night or two just to spend a few minutes with Shark – no kidding.
Speaking of the cave – wow! I would have never thought of visting a cave in the Bahamas, and yet, on Cave Cay, there’s a cave that surprised all of us. Stalagmites – stalactites – bats – cave geckos – evidence of long-ago culture. It was so unexpected, and so cool. If you ever find yourself at Cave Cay, you really need to get Shark to take you to the cave!
Yesterday afternoon, we walked over to the lagoon again, this time to see if Claire might be able to see her first-ever sunset over the water. That’s right, folks – she lives within a few miles of the coast of Australia, but had never seen the sun set over the water! (To be fair – they’re on the East Coast – so lots of sunrises, but no sunsets.) We took our beverages and conch horns to that side of the island, and although it wasn’t the most spectacular sunset on record, it was good enough for Claire to put another check on her To Do List. And we had a chorus of conch horns! (To be fair, the locals might substitute “cacophony” for “chorus” in that sentence.) Zoe is the best conch horn blower in her family by a wide margin. She can’t wait to take it to Show and Tell back home!
Today was their last onboard. Anthony got up with the sun, walked over to the lagoon, and returned a few hours later with four more snappers. (Guess what we had for their last lunch with us?) We walked over to the aptly named Rough Beach on the ocean side and found some beautiful shells. We met Steve (the man who has owned the island for the last 20 years), swam a little more in the marina, and finally, about 4:00, put our Aussie friends on a fast boat to Great Exuma Island, where they’ll spend tonight and get on a plane for Florida in the morning. Captain Hiram’s (for Anthony’s 50th birthday!), Disney World, and Cocoa Beach are in their immediate future, followed by 10 days on the Baja Peninsula in Mexico, before finally heading back to New South Wales, Australia. (These people know how to go on vacation!)
Eight days went by in a blur, and in spite of the less-than-perfect weather, I think they had a decent time. I know we did!
“Killer” is the name of our dinghy – the little boat we carry around with us on Smartini that we use for all local excursions after we arrive in an anchorage. He figures so prominently in our adventures that I decided to give him his own post.
Smartini came with a dinghy – a 10′ long RIB (rigid inflatable boat – a little boat with a fiberglass bottom, and big inflatable tubes forming the sides). At least 9 out of 10 dinghies are RIBs, and if all you’re using one for is going between your big boat and shore, I guess they’re OK. But we didn’t like the one we had, so we sold it to a friend, and bought… another RIB. Doh!!!! <Smack forehead with palm of hand>
This one was a little bigger (11′), had a bigger motor (25 horsepower instead of 10 on the first one), and had seats and a console with a steering wheel. (The first one had what’s called “tiller steering” – you steer by holding onto the tiller of the outboard motor with your left hand, which also operates the twist-grip throttle.) And the first time we had four people in it, we realized we had screwed up. There was no room in it, and it wouldn’t get up on plane (run up on top of the water, rather than ploughing through it). And it had the most significant disadvantate of an inflatable – eventually, they become a DEFLATABLE. The seams start leaking, or you poke a hole in one of the tubes, or general entropy takes over, and they lose air, so you’re constantly having to pump them up again.
After a few months of not liking that dinghy, we decided no more RIBs for us – we were going to get a real boat as our dinghy. (A real little boat, to be sure, but a real boat.) I started researching them, and came across someone’s explanation of their dinghy strategy: “we go long distances slowly in our trawler to get to beautiful places – and when we get there, we want to be able to get around those places quickly.” It made perfect sense to Fran and me, so we started looking for little boats that would get four people and some stuff to places quickly. It didn’t take long for us to decide on a 13′ Boston Whaler.
All we knew about Boston Whalers was that they’re incredibly popular with native Bahamians – we’d seen them in heavy use everywhere we’ve been in the Bahamas. We also knew that one would fit in the available space with almost a whole inch to spare! What we didn’t know is that they have an almost cult-like following. The first Whaler was a 1958 model (same as me!), and it was the 13′ – same as ours. We ended up buying one from a nice guy named Drew, after finding it on Craig’s List. (Interesting tidbit – Drew was a Goodyear blimp pilot for the last many years of his working life!)
Drew had a good friend who bought the boat new in 1979. He used it extensivly in the Chesapeake Bay area, and then he passed away about four years ago. His widow felt like he would want Drew to have it, so she gave it to him. He used it for a few years, then it sat in his garage for a few years, so he decided to sell it. Drew’s nickname for his friend was “Killer”, so he put the name “Killer” on the transom of the boat. We liked the story, and liked the name, so we kept it!
Killer just barely fits in the dinghy space on Smartini’s upper deck. He’s hard to get off the boat with the crane, and even harder to get on. I’m not at all happy with the cradle we had made for him to sit in when he’s on the upper deck. If there’s even a 6″ chop, there’s a good chance you’re going to get a little wet at speed. But we LOVE him! He is exactly what we wanted in a dinghy. Four people, up on plane. With just the two of us, he cruises at 16 knots at 3500 rpm – just loafing. Fran and me and full scuba gear, no problem. We can snorkel, scuba, and fish from him. He’s fun to drive. What more could we ask for in a dinghy? He even has a cool, retro-looking 35 HP outboard motor! Yes, Killer will be a major player in the Adventures of Smartini!
Faithful readers will know that Smartini recently completed yet another longer-than-anticipated haul out (when the boat is out of the water for various repairs, which either can’t, or can’t easily, be done while IN the water). “Why does it always take you guys so long?”, you might ask. “Shut the hell up!!”, I might reply. But no, that would be rude. So lemme ‘splain. No, there is too much – lemme sum up.
This post is a list of pretty much everything we and three vendors did to Smartini from December 4 to February 22. I didn’t try to make it funny, and it’s long, so unless you’re really interested in what it’s like to own and maintain a boat like Smartini, it probably won’t be all that thrilling.
I should point out that a lot of these things didn’t NEED to be done. In fact, all of the biggest projects were discretionary, and so were a lot of the small ones. We just like to torture ourselves. If you’ve ever done a home remodel project that started with new faucet handles and ended up costing $30,000 for a whole new kitchen, you’ll understand a lot of the psychology that was involved.
1. Replace all the hydraulic hoses with new ones. We could have waited until a hose burst, but since that would disable every hydraulic item on the boat (anchor windlass, bow thruster, stern thruster, dinghy crane, and stabilizers), and would have made a helluva mess, and would likely have been difficult to have repaired wherever we happened to be when it burst – we decided to do this maintenance item preventively. Almost everything in these two pictures was replaced, relocated, or is brand new. Plus at least 300 feet of hydraulic hoses that run between these points, and from them to all over the boat.
2. Switch the stern thruster from an electric motor to hydraulic power. We could have left it electric forever, although we would have had to change out the two giant batteries that power it – they were rapidly dying. But the hydraulic motor is stronger, and it can be run non-stop for as long as you need it. An electric motor will overheat if run too long, and we didn’t ever want to really need that thruster, and have it overheat and shut down just when we needed it most. Besides – with those two giant batteries gone, we have a LOT more storage space back there – and I’ve used every bit of it. (See item 17).
3. Remove the mahogany caprail from all the way around the boat, and then add a stainless steel rubrail to replace the one that was on the mahogany. Hurricane Irma knocked two sections of the caprail loose, and we could have repaired them. However, we knew that there was some rust forming on the metal lip that the caprail is fastened to, and as long-time readers will remember, Rust Never Sleeps on a steel boat. If we didn’t get rid of the wood eventually, we’d have a lot of rust to deal with one day, and we hate rust! So we decided to bite the bullet and get rid of the wood now, rather than some day later. Fortunately for us, the painters volunteered to remove the caprail, thinking it would be a trivial project. Two men, two days, two big hammers and chisels, and one Sawz-All later, they had it off. After they got it off, and primed and painted it, Fran, Kelly*, and I had to remount the stainless steel handrail, which involved drilling 117 holes, and tapping about 20 of them. (*Kelly is the nephew of Romeo, the man who owns the painting company we used. His help with this project was invaluable – thanks, Kelly!!!)
Separately, another vendor fabricated and installed 3/8″ stainless steel flat stock around almost the entire boat (not the transom – we can’t run into anything back there because of the swim platform), and then reattached the heavy stainless rubrail, which had been attached to the wooden caprail, to this new flat stock. It took two men the better part of two weeks to do this, with all the trial fitting, drilling, and tapping, but they did a great job, as you can tell from the picture.
Finally, the wood caprail made up the top edge of the dive equipment storage bench and tackle center that Pratt Plastics custom made for us in 2016. Without the wood, there was a nice, big gap for water to get inside, which would eventually have caused rust. Besides, it was kinda ugly. With Richard Pratt’s help on a Saturday, we now have trim pieces to cover those gaps, and they look like they were made that way from the start. Thanks, Richard!
This was a huge project, considering all the aspects of it, but it was something we knew we’d eventually have to do, and now it’s done. We’re very pleased with the result, and as a bonus, we’ll never have to clean and seal the wood again!
4. We didn’t have to get a different dinghy, but we really didn’t like the last one we had, and visitors DeDeAnn, Heather, and Katie will probably cheer this decision the next time they’re onboard. Of course, a new dinghy meant a new way to store it on the upper deck, so a ridiculously expensive stainless steel cradle was made – which I’m still not happy with (more on that later). But we sure are happy with Killer, our new-to-us 1979 13′ Boston Whaler Sport! (It came with that name, which came with a good story, so we’re going to keep it.)
5. Replace stabilizer fin shaft seals and bearings. Smartini has two big fins that move back and forth under the water to reduce the amount of rolling (side to side movement) we experience, adding greatly to the comfort of a long trip in not-so-calm seas. These fins are hydraulically activated, and I had dealt with the hydraulic actuators last summer when one of them started leaking. But since their shafts go through the hull, there are seals to keep the water out, and bearings to make them move smoothly. We could have waited until we started to see some leakage, but at that point, it would have required a haul out. Doing it now means we don’t have to do it again for at least three, probably four years.
6. We could have limited the painting to only those areas that were scratched during Irma, but we had a bunch of little scratches and rust spots developing all around the bulwarks*, so we decided to have all of that fixed and painted, all the way around the boat. (*Bulwarks are the part of the hull that extends upwards above the deck; the part that keeps you from falling overboard as you walk around on the main deck.)
The above items took 95% of the time of all the work done, and maybe even a higher percentage of the cost of all the work done. But as you can see, every one of them either made Smartini better in some way, or addressed a potential problem before it could become a problem. We kept telling ourselves “When we leave the yard this time, we don’t want there to be a single major project that we know needs to be done. We want to go enjoy Smartini for a long time before we have to do a major haul out again.” I sincerely hope we’ve accomplished that!
The list below is in the order that things were completed, simply because that’s how we were using our To Do List – when something was done, we moved it to the bottom of the “DONE” list. (If it were in order of Frustration Level, or Cost, or Value of End Result, it would be sorted very differently.) Here goes!
7. Replace the transducer. This is the device that sends and receives sonar signals from the boat to the bottom and calculates the depth, so you can see it on your various displays. Since Smartini is made of steel, we can’t use the kind that can transmit and receive through the hull, so ours actually pokes through a hole in the hull. That’s why we HAD to haul out – almost everything else COULD have been done in the water, but many of those things would have been much, much more difficult. The transducer we had to replace was new in December 2016 – and they’re supposed to last forever! Why did this one fail after less than a year? No idea.
8. Replace the circuit board in the Master Stateroom air conditioning unit. We had the board in the Salon (aka “living room”) unit replaced last summer when it blew. Not long after, the Master unit stopped working, and I suspected its board. I bought a new one (plus a spare – we still have one more unit that hasn’t failed!), and decided to tackle the replacement myself. I wasn’t sure I’d know how to recognize a bad board – but look at the picture!
9. Remove the anchor chain, take it to a chain and rope store, and have them add 100 feet of rope. Doesn’t seem like a big deal, but we currently have 175 feet of ⅜” stainless steel chain, all of which had to be lowered to the ground (into the trunk of the car), and then hoisted back up onto the boat after the additional rope had been added – about 20 feet off the ground. It was a workout! And then, because the loop that the rope store had spliced into the bitter end of the rope (that’s the end that fastens to the boat, down inside the chain locker) wouldn’t fit through the hole into the chain locker, we had to cut off his very nice splice, and watch about a dozen YouTube videos to find one that showed us how to do it ourselves. This picture is of the SECOND one we did (just for practice). The FIRST one (on the anchor rope) wasn’t nearly as pretty! Guess we should have done the practice one first.
10. Install a “Total fuel used” reset button on our fuel flow meter. For some reason, such a button had never been installed, so if you wanted to reset the total (like when you fill the fuel tanks), you had to actually cut off the main batteries to the whole boat for a few seconds. I installed this little red button that lets us reset it to zero whenever we want.
11. Whenever you have different metals in an electrolyte (salt water is an electrolyte), you create a battery of sorts. So a steel hull, a bronze propeller, a stainless steel propeller shaft, bronze through-hull fittings – all of these things are part of Smartini’s submerged parts, and collectively, they create a very large (although very low voltage) battery. Over time, as electrons flow through the electrolyte from one metal to another, they corrode the “least noble” (think “softest”) metal. You don’t want any of the parts of the boat to corrode, so you add one more part to the mix – some zinc. Zinc is less noble (softer) than all the other parts of the boat, so the zinc is the metal that corrodes. Every so often, you replace the hunks of zinc, so the new ones will corrode, rather than any other part of the boat. Smartini has eight such zincs on her hull, each one weighing about five pounds when new. I removed all of them, cleaned the stainless steel studs that they attach to, and reattached them with new washers and nuts. (They don’t work unless the attach points are clean.) Except one, which was pretty corroded – I replaced that one with a new one.
12. Drill out the mounting tabs for all the new hull zincs we bought. They come with no holes, because every boat’s mounting studs are a different distance apart. Now we have a full set of zincs, drilled and ready to mount, for when the existing ones corrode too much. We can easily do this in the water with scuba gear and a single wrench, whenever needed.
13. Smartini has two three-drawer tool chests mounted under the workbench in the engine room, which is awesome. Under them are the eight “house” batteries (the batteries that run all the lights, the refrigerator/freezers, the pumps, and most of the rest of the electric things on the boat). To keep tools from falling onto the batteries (resulting in a massive shower of sparks and probably a ruined tool, maybe a ruined battery, maybe even an explosion!), the tool chests and batteries are behind some cabinet doors. Which means that every time I needed to get into one of the tool chests, I had to open two cabinet doors, which then kept me from moving fore and aft in the engine room. Doesn’t seem like a big problem, but I tell you, I was constantly cussing this design. Not anymore! I removed the doors, took them to a cabinet shop and had them cut them down to my specs, and then I reinstalled them. I had to relocate the latches, too. But it was sure worth it! Now I can get into my tool chests without opening a cabinet, and my batteries are still protected. The drawers lock in the closed position when underway.
14. We have a really bright handheld spotlight that’s very nice as a backup to our permanently mounted spotlight. (Which I had to repair when we were in Key West.) On our oh-so-bumpy voyage from Key West at the end of November, the handheld light fell from its perch at the flybridge helm station onto the floor with a great THUD, and stopped working. Fortunately, it was only the lightbulb, which is a common automotive halogen headlight bulb. Unfortunately, you have to completely disassemble the whole spotlight to replace the bulb. Which I did.
15. Update the firmware on all of our electronics.
16. Update the charts on our electronic chartplotters. In this case, we actually switched from one provider (C-MAP) to another (Navionics), so Fran had some fun with that! (Not.)
17. Remove two giant batteries and all the wiring and other wiring and other gizmos for the now-removed electric stern thruster motor from the lazarette, then create a storage area for spares. (You can’t believe how many spare parts we have onboard – and they all have to go somewhere!)
18. Replace all main engine coolant hoses. Smartini’s engine, an 838 cubic inch Izuzu Industrial diesel, has fouteen hoses for keeping things cool. Half of them move anti-freeze throughout the engine and between the engine and the keel cooler (our “radiator”, which is on the outside of hull), and the other half move seawater through various heat exchangers (to cool the transmission fluid and the hydraulic fluid), then inject it into the engine’s exhaust, to cool the exhaust and to get rid of the seawater. All in all, it’s about thirty-five feet of hose, involving almost thirty hose clamps, and lots of “chafe guard” to keep holes from getting rubbed into the hoses. It hadn’t been done since the boat was built, so it was way past time. And yes, I did this one all by my lonesome.
19. Modify the air conditioners’ seawater cooling system to allow it to be flushed periodically, to clean it out. This was a lot trickier than I thought it was going to be, mainly because I had very little room to add the 2-way selector valve I needed. (See picture.) Also, I had to add a manual switch to engage the seawater pump, so that I can do the flushing without having to fire up one of the air conditioners. (The pump comes on when any one of the A/C units comes on, but there wasn’t a way to run only the pump, for my flushing circuit.) Now, I can run a mild muriatic acid solution through our air conditioners’ cooling lines to get rid of the crud that inevitably builds up inside of them, and don’t have to run the A/C units to do it. I’m actually pretty pleased with myself on this project!
20. Replace all the low pressure hoses that supply water to the watermaker. This also involved relocating the sea strainer (a filter that keeps out big stuff – there’s one in every seawater intake: main engine, generator, air conditioners, water maker), and that was the challenge. It had originally been mounted in a very weird spot that was practically impossible to get to for inspection and cleaning. I cut out a big section of wood to make an opening into a hard-to-reach spot, and remounted the strainer where I can now easily inspect and clean it.
21. Create a cradle for our new dinghy, Killer. This was, I believe, the most annoying thing done during the haul out, because the vendor took it upon himself to modify the design from what we had originally agreed on. When I first saw it, still in “rough” condition, I should have yelled “Stop! That’s not what you were supposed to make!” – but I didn’t. I let myself be talked into this new design – and each subsequent modification that was necessary because of the deficiencies of the new design. Well, it’s not what I wanted, but it sure was expensive! However, it works, and that’s what matters, I guess. It just won’t ever be what it was supposed to be. Grrrr….
22. Add four new tie-downs to the upper deck to make sure we never again have a loose dinghy while underway. Each one involved drilling and tapping three holes in the deck.
23. Remove the hatch lid from the aft deck to the upper deck, take it to have the Plexiglass replaced, and remount it.
24. Remove the hatch on the foredeck that opens into the VIP Cabin and flip it 180 degrees. Because for some strange reason, it was mounted backwards when the boat was built. In other words, when you opened it, the opening faced aft – so almost no air came in through it when at anchor. Future guests – you’re welcome!
25. Replace all three main engine fuel filters, and both generator fuel filters. Add a vacuum gauge to each of the primary filter housings to indicate when it’s time to change the filter cartridge.
26. Paint the bottom of the new dinghy with two coats of primer and one coat of bottom paint.
27. Speaking of bottom paint: apply two more coats of bottom paint to Smartini. Yes, after applying five coats of primer and three coats of bottom paint at the last haul out, we had to put more bottom paint on this time! It turns out that the bottom paint we chose, once it goes in the water, can’t be OUT of the water for more than 72 hours before it needs to be scuffed and re-coated. We were obviously out a lot longer than 72 hours, so we paid our painters to scuff the entire hull, then Fran and I put the bottom paint on. And since we tend to overdo things, we did two coats.
28. Install a pull-out trash can in the galley. Seems like a small thing, but it’s so much nicer than having to drag the trash can out of the cupboard and stuff it back in every time.
29. Disassemble, service, and reassemble the crane that lifts the dinghy on and off the upper deck. This was not a job for amateurs – we farmed it out. And after watching them do it, I’m sure glad we did! Definitely above my pay grade.
30. There’s a stainless steel safety rail running all around the back half of the upper deck. Some of it is fixed, but the aft-most portions are removable so that the dinghy can go on and off. For some reason, they made the section where the crane goes when hoisting or lowering the dinghy a fixed section. Sure enough, the very first time we put the dinghy in the water after we bought Smartini, we lowered the boom of the crane too low, and bent that section of the railing. So we had that section converted from fixed to removable. (That involved cutting and welding stainless, so we didn’t do that job.) Now we can lower the boom as low as it goes and not hurt anything.
31. Another bit of Irma damage was to one of our downspouts that drains water from the upper deck. (We added these at the last haul out.) It rubbed (and rubbed, and rubbed, and rubbed!) against the dock piling in Key West, and while it mostly chewed up the piling, it also got pretty bent out of shape in the process. So we had it cut out, and a new one welded in. And because we weren’t thrilled with the ones that were put in originally (not long enough, not enough downward slope), we had the other side done, too.
32. One of our three side boarding gates banged against a piling during Irma, and bent the heck out of the hinges. So we bought some new, heavier duty hinges, had them drilled to match the old ones (the new ones came with no holes), and re-hung the gate. If you look closely at the picture, you’ll see that we couldn’t get all of the bolts started in the bottom hinge – a project for another day.
33. Another of our boarding gates has always rubbed the deck in one bottom corner, and it takes the paint off, then it rusts. We couldn’t mount the gate any higher, so we decided to have ¾” cut off the bottom. We removed the gate, had someone cut the bottom off and weld a new bottom on, then the painters faired and painted, and we re-installed.
Wow! I’m exhausted just writing about all of that work! Vendors did a lot of it, but still – whew! However, this wasn’t all we had to accomplish during our almost-three months in the yard. In addition, we also had to:
Get the car to the body shop to fix the scratch that they didn’t fix the first time.
Sell the old dinghy.
Register the new dinghy.
Get rid of the trailer that came with the new dinghy.
Buy about 100 things that we’d need for spares, or for future projects, or whatever. Maybe it was 200 things.
Provision for the Bahamas. Fran spent about two days on this alone.
Investigate, choose, then switch us to a service that can handle all of our physical mail, no matter where we are in the world. It’s called St. Brendan’s Isle – a weird name for a very cool service!
Investigate, choose, purchase and set up a satellite phone. Then deal with the police report, and buy another one, when that one was stolen from our galley!
Sell our old underwater camera setup.
Investigate, choose, and purchase a new underwater camera setup.
Somewhere in the middle, we flew to Indianapolis, then drove to Brooklyn, NY to deliver Bennett to Pratt Institute, his new venue of higher education.
Can we please, pretty please, pretty please with sugar on top, not have to haul Smartini out of the water for at least two years? Please??????