Dawn Varnishing Cabin Top Before the Adventure
Remember me?
Yes I am still alive. I try to keep my blog up to date and maintain a presence on Facebook, but sometimes life gets in the way.
So here’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. We moved out of our apartment at the end of March. Our plan was to do a few things on the boat to get her all purty, then put her up for sale and head to Panama.
Dawn’s mother, Joyce, lives in Panama. They have a beautiful place right on the beach way out in the jungle on Isla Colon, Caribbean living at its best (or so I’ve been told). Dawn has never seen the place and I’m always up for an adventure.
Anyway, we cleared out of our apartment and moved back on the boat. I made arrangements to have her hauled out and give the bottom a fresh coat of paint. Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan.
I had been trying to haul the Victory out since December. Twice we made reservations with the boatyard in Ensenda. That’s where we had her hauled last and they did good work for a reasonable price.
The first scheduled date was in December. We were going to sail down to Ensenada, about 60 miles south of San Diego, then haul out.
Mother Nature got in the way. Dry, mild San Diego got hit with a humongous storm. Discretion being the better part of valor, we canceled and stayed warm and dry.
In March we tried again. Again a big storm swooped in out of the Pacific and stopped us.
One of our neighbors in the marina told us about a boat yard where they hauled out at a very reasonable price. I called and made arrangements to go there.
As our scheduled date came around, the marina called and said that they were having problems with their marine railway and had to push us back two weeks.
Not a problem. We had so much work to do on the boat that we could do at the dock, we just rolled up our sleeves and waded in.
Remember me?
Yes I am still alive. I try to keep my blog up to date and maintain a presence on Facebook, but sometimes life gets in the way.
So here’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. We moved out of our apartment at the end of March. Our plan was to do a few things on the boat to get her all purty, then put her up for sale and head to Panama.
Dawn’s mother, Joyce, lives in Panama. They have a beautiful place right on the beach way out in the jungle on Isla Colon, Caribbean living at its best (or so I’ve been told). Dawn has never seen the place and I’m always up for an adventure.
Anyway, we cleared out of our apartment and moved back on the boat. I made arrangements to have her hauled out and give the bottom a fresh coat of paint. Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan.
I had been trying to haul the Victory out since December. Twice we made reservations with the boatyard in Ensenda. That’s where we had her hauled last and they did good work for a reasonable price.
The first scheduled date was in December. We were going to sail down to Ensenada, about 60 miles south of San Diego, then haul out.
Mother Nature got in the way. Dry, mild San Diego got hit with a humongous storm. Discretion being the better part of valor, we canceled and stayed warm and dry.
In March we tried again. Again a big storm swooped in out of the Pacific and stopped us.
One of our neighbors in the marina told us about a boat yard where they hauled out at a very reasonable price. I called and made arrangements to go there.
As our scheduled date came around, the marina called and said that they were having problems with their marine railway and had to push us back two weeks.
Not a problem. We had so much work to do on the boat that we could do at the dock, we just rolled up our sleeves and waded in.
I tackle the plumbing I spent the first week working on plumbing. I don’t know how so many things could go wrong with the boat just sitting there, but I had a full week of plumbing chores.
I never begrudge what a plumber charges. The work is so ugly that they earn every bit of what they make. Working on a boat is no different.
I spent a week crawling around in the bilges and shimmying under sinks. The job stunk.
I case you don’t remember, I had knee surgery last year and I can’t crawl around on my hands and knees. Getting up and down is a painful experience. I was soooooo glad when the job was completed.
Next we spend a couple of weeks stripping all of the old varnish from the boat. It had set in the tropical sun for three years and looked awful.
Like any painting job, prepping the surface was the hardest part of the job. It took the better part of two weeks to prep the wood, but only a couple of days to apply the varnish.
Finally, the big day came. We cast off our mooring lines and headed up the bay to Kohler Kraft Boatyard.
It’s about a two-hour trip from Chula Vista to Shelter Island. The boatyard was in America’s Cup Harbor, on the east end of the island. I got a little mixed up.
We entered the harbor, but couldn’t find the boat yard. As a matter of fact, we couldn’t find ANY boatyards.
I was confused. I knew that there were several boatyards right next to each other on Shelter Island. I called the marina and guess what? We were in Harbor Island, not Shelter Island.
I never begrudge what a plumber charges. The work is so ugly that they earn every bit of what they make. Working on a boat is no different.
I spent a week crawling around in the bilges and shimmying under sinks. The job stunk.
I case you don’t remember, I had knee surgery last year and I can’t crawl around on my hands and knees. Getting up and down is a painful experience. I was soooooo glad when the job was completed.
Next we spend a couple of weeks stripping all of the old varnish from the boat. It had set in the tropical sun for three years and looked awful.
Like any painting job, prepping the surface was the hardest part of the job. It took the better part of two weeks to prep the wood, but only a couple of days to apply the varnish.
Finally, the big day came. We cast off our mooring lines and headed up the bay to Kohler Kraft Boatyard.
It’s about a two-hour trip from Chula Vista to Shelter Island. The boatyard was in America’s Cup Harbor, on the east end of the island. I got a little mixed up.
We entered the harbor, but couldn’t find the boat yard. As a matter of fact, we couldn’t find ANY boatyards.
I was confused. I knew that there were several boatyards right next to each other on Shelter Island. I called the marina and guess what? We were in Harbor Island, not Shelter Island.
We haul the Victory out
Things got worse from there. Our engine died trying to turn around in the narrow channel. There were floats with multi-million dollar yachts on one side and twenty feet or so on the other side, there was a rock lined embankment.
I couldn’t let the boat drift in that narrow space, so I dropped the anchor. It held, but the current was swinging us around towards the rocks. I dropped the stern anchor to keep us in the channel.
Going below, I changed fuel filters and the engine started right up. Now to raise the anchors.
The bow anchor was no problem. We have an electrical wench that pulled the sixty pound plow anchor right to the surface.
The stern anchor was another problem. The stern anchor is a forty pound Danforth anchor with wide flukes. The bottom was muddy and at least twenty or thirty pounds of mud clung to our anchor.
We have no wench for the stern anchor, so I had to pull it up by hand. It wouldn’t come. As I pulled it in, the boat would drift back over the anchor chain, and I couldn’t pull any more.
Dawn took the controls of the boat and inched forward when I needed it and back when the anchor chain became taunt.
A man in a dingy with a big outboard was passing by and asked if we needed help. Since we were swinging on one anchor, I asked him to keep us in the main channel buy putting the bow of his rubber boat to our bow and maintaining constant pressure.
We flailed around for about a half hour when one of the men from the marina offered to help. I was exhausted, so I welcomed the extra muscle.
The dinghy picked him up and soon we had the anchor on deck and were on our way.
I couldn’t let the boat drift in that narrow space, so I dropped the anchor. It held, but the current was swinging us around towards the rocks. I dropped the stern anchor to keep us in the channel.
Going below, I changed fuel filters and the engine started right up. Now to raise the anchors.
The bow anchor was no problem. We have an electrical wench that pulled the sixty pound plow anchor right to the surface.
The stern anchor was another problem. The stern anchor is a forty pound Danforth anchor with wide flukes. The bottom was muddy and at least twenty or thirty pounds of mud clung to our anchor.
We have no wench for the stern anchor, so I had to pull it up by hand. It wouldn’t come. As I pulled it in, the boat would drift back over the anchor chain, and I couldn’t pull any more.
Dawn took the controls of the boat and inched forward when I needed it and back when the anchor chain became taunt.
A man in a dingy with a big outboard was passing by and asked if we needed help. Since we were swinging on one anchor, I asked him to keep us in the main channel buy putting the bow of his rubber boat to our bow and maintaining constant pressure.
We flailed around for about a half hour when one of the men from the marina offered to help. I was exhausted, so I welcomed the extra muscle.
The dinghy picked him up and soon we had the anchor on deck and were on our way.
Dawn takes a break
We entered America’s Cup Harbor and found the boatyard. It had narrow fairways and there was a stiff breeze blowing.
I maneuvered the Victory into the dock next to the ways, but the wind kept pushing us away. Two guys from the boatyard came down to take our lines.
They were yelling at me to do one thing, Dawn was yelling at me to do something else. The beach was only a few feet away. I panicked (not something I usually do) and switched gears from reverse to forward.
I goofed. I didn’t shut down the throttle and take the transmission out of gear before I changed. There was a loud crunching sound, and the boat was dead in the water. The transmission was gone.
The boat yard guys jumped in their dinghy and sped to our rescue. The Victory was simply too big and heavy for them to move against the wind and current. The wind blew us down on the adjoining dock and we fought to keep from smashing into the other boats. Then we went gently aground.
I called for vessel assist to send a tow boat to get us out of our predicament. It took about a half hour for them to get there. We fought the entire time not to damage the other boats. Oh, and did I mention that the tide was falling too?
When the tow boat arrived they expertly took us in tow and moved us the fifty feet to our dock. By then it was too late in the day to haul the boat, so we settled in for the night.
We slept on the boat and first thing in the morning we checked in with the boatyard manager. The foreman came in with bad news.
Last night he asked how wide the boat was. I answered, “fourteen feet nine inches.”
“No problem, the car is fifteen feet wide, you should be able to fit.”
This morning it was a different story. He measured the boat, it was fifteen feet three inches if you included the rub rails.
“I’m just saying it might not fit.”
What else could go wrong?
They lowered the car in the water and floated the Victory onto it. It fit!
The rub rails were below the supports on the car and didn’t touch anything.
A marine railway is an antiquated method of hauling boats out of the water. There are railroad tracks going down into the water. An engine at the top of the ramp slowly lowers a car on the rails until it is deep enough for us to float in. When the boat is secure on the car, the engine pulls us out of the water.
Then there is what reminded me of a turn table in a railroad roundhouse where the car is shuttled off to the space where we will live.
I maneuvered the Victory into the dock next to the ways, but the wind kept pushing us away. Two guys from the boatyard came down to take our lines.
They were yelling at me to do one thing, Dawn was yelling at me to do something else. The beach was only a few feet away. I panicked (not something I usually do) and switched gears from reverse to forward.
I goofed. I didn’t shut down the throttle and take the transmission out of gear before I changed. There was a loud crunching sound, and the boat was dead in the water. The transmission was gone.
The boat yard guys jumped in their dinghy and sped to our rescue. The Victory was simply too big and heavy for them to move against the wind and current. The wind blew us down on the adjoining dock and we fought to keep from smashing into the other boats. Then we went gently aground.
I called for vessel assist to send a tow boat to get us out of our predicament. It took about a half hour for them to get there. We fought the entire time not to damage the other boats. Oh, and did I mention that the tide was falling too?
When the tow boat arrived they expertly took us in tow and moved us the fifty feet to our dock. By then it was too late in the day to haul the boat, so we settled in for the night.
We slept on the boat and first thing in the morning we checked in with the boatyard manager. The foreman came in with bad news.
Last night he asked how wide the boat was. I answered, “fourteen feet nine inches.”
“No problem, the car is fifteen feet wide, you should be able to fit.”
This morning it was a different story. He measured the boat, it was fifteen feet three inches if you included the rub rails.
“I’m just saying it might not fit.”
What else could go wrong?
They lowered the car in the water and floated the Victory onto it. It fit!
The rub rails were below the supports on the car and didn’t touch anything.
A marine railway is an antiquated method of hauling boats out of the water. There are railroad tracks going down into the water. An engine at the top of the ramp slowly lowers a car on the rails until it is deep enough for us to float in. When the boat is secure on the car, the engine pulls us out of the water.
Then there is what reminded me of a turn table in a railroad roundhouse where the car is shuttled off to the space where we will live.
Victory ready to go back in the water
The whole operation went very smoothly. Now it was time to get to work.
We hauled on a Thursday, The boat yard doesn’t work on weekends, so we took the time to paint the top of the hull.
Not as easy as it sounds. We had to sand and prep the entire surface. It was a horrible job. There was a big Chris Craft cruiser in the slot next to us with not more than an inch of clearance between the two cars. We got the starboard side sanded and ready to go. On Friday afternoon, they put the Chris Craft back in the water and we could work on the port side.
Okay, I admit it. We were tired, we hurt all over and sometimes tempers got short. Somehow or other we managed to paint the boat without killing each other, but it was a close call.
We hired a couple of guys to help us prep and paint. They worked hard on Friday, but didn’t show up on Saturday. I guess if they were dependable, they would have steady jobs.
I don’t know why Dawn puts up with me. I pushed her right to the edge.
Finally the job was done and it was time to put the boat back in the water. Now we just had one problem, how to get home.
The transmission didn’t work. We called our mechanic and he said we needed to get the boat back to our marina where he could work on it.
Vessel assist once again came to the rescue. They towed us from Shelter Island and all the way down to Chula Vista and worked us into our slip as easy as a cat stretching out for a nap.
I really thank these guys. I have towing insurance, so it didn’t cost anything. The bill for both tow jobs came to almost eleven hundred dollars. The two hundred dollars for a year’s worth of insurance seemed like nothing.
The boat was home, but we still had a ton of work to do.
The forward cabin top is made of plywood. After nearly forty years, it was delaminating. I called a couple of shipwrights to give me an estimate. It was going to cost over four thousand dollars and take two weeks to fix it.
I didn’t have that kind of money to put into the project. That was double the budget I had set for repairs.
I did it myself. It was a very challenging project. It took me a week and cost less than three hundred dollars. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t look too bad and it is serviceable.
While I was fighting with the cabin roof, Dawn sanded the deck and prepped the cabin for paint. Then she painted all the black trim.
By the time I was done, she was almost through painting the cabins. Then tragedy struck.
Dawn’s cousin, Shelly died. Shelly was a couple months older than Dawn and they grew up like sisters. Dawn was devastated.
We already had our tickets for the Panama trip, but I felt it was imperative that Dawn go home to be with her family. She finally agreed.
Money wasn’t the issue, yes it cost us a few hundred bucks to change her reservations and get tickets to Seattle, but at a time like this, you must be with family.
I put her on a plane on Thursday, then went back to work. I finished the chores on my list, but we didn’t get the deck resurfaced. With Dawn gone, it was just too big a job to tackle on my own and expect to get it done in one day.
I'll start telling the story of the Panama Trip in my next post. Sorry it took so long to get here.
We hauled on a Thursday, The boat yard doesn’t work on weekends, so we took the time to paint the top of the hull.
Not as easy as it sounds. We had to sand and prep the entire surface. It was a horrible job. There was a big Chris Craft cruiser in the slot next to us with not more than an inch of clearance between the two cars. We got the starboard side sanded and ready to go. On Friday afternoon, they put the Chris Craft back in the water and we could work on the port side.
Okay, I admit it. We were tired, we hurt all over and sometimes tempers got short. Somehow or other we managed to paint the boat without killing each other, but it was a close call.
We hired a couple of guys to help us prep and paint. They worked hard on Friday, but didn’t show up on Saturday. I guess if they were dependable, they would have steady jobs.
I don’t know why Dawn puts up with me. I pushed her right to the edge.
Finally the job was done and it was time to put the boat back in the water. Now we just had one problem, how to get home.
The transmission didn’t work. We called our mechanic and he said we needed to get the boat back to our marina where he could work on it.
Vessel assist once again came to the rescue. They towed us from Shelter Island and all the way down to Chula Vista and worked us into our slip as easy as a cat stretching out for a nap.
I really thank these guys. I have towing insurance, so it didn’t cost anything. The bill for both tow jobs came to almost eleven hundred dollars. The two hundred dollars for a year’s worth of insurance seemed like nothing.
The boat was home, but we still had a ton of work to do.
The forward cabin top is made of plywood. After nearly forty years, it was delaminating. I called a couple of shipwrights to give me an estimate. It was going to cost over four thousand dollars and take two weeks to fix it.
I didn’t have that kind of money to put into the project. That was double the budget I had set for repairs.
I did it myself. It was a very challenging project. It took me a week and cost less than three hundred dollars. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t look too bad and it is serviceable.
While I was fighting with the cabin roof, Dawn sanded the deck and prepped the cabin for paint. Then she painted all the black trim.
By the time I was done, she was almost through painting the cabins. Then tragedy struck.
Dawn’s cousin, Shelly died. Shelly was a couple months older than Dawn and they grew up like sisters. Dawn was devastated.
We already had our tickets for the Panama trip, but I felt it was imperative that Dawn go home to be with her family. She finally agreed.
Money wasn’t the issue, yes it cost us a few hundred bucks to change her reservations and get tickets to Seattle, but at a time like this, you must be with family.
I put her on a plane on Thursday, then went back to work. I finished the chores on my list, but we didn’t get the deck resurfaced. With Dawn gone, it was just too big a job to tackle on my own and expect to get it done in one day.
I'll start telling the story of the Panama Trip in my next post. Sorry it took so long to get here.
All's well that ends well
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