It was over three years ago that we last hauled Take Two out of the water for maintenance.  At that time, our bottom paint was relatively fresh and we had other priorities.  This time, our paint was four and half years old and our primary motivation for pulling out.  

Hauling out is never easy for us.  I only know of five yards in all of Florida that can handle our 26’ beam.  They’re in Bradenton, St James City, Key Largo, Ft Lauderdale, and Ft Pierce.  So that’s why we’re in Ft Pierce.

Hauling out is further complicated because the boat is our home.  Last time we still had a house.  This time we’d need alternate housing for up to two weeks while the boat was getting worked on, which meant a total disruption of our lives.

It took us two months to make it all happen, but finally Take Two got to take a ride on the TraveLift.

We’re expecting her to be out for two weeks while we work through our project list:

• Strip off 20 years of accumulated paint buildup below the waterline.  We’re having adhesion problems and can’t just keep adding more layers.
• Remove three thru-hulls from back when we had toilets flushing with salt water.  I don’t see us ever going back that direction.  Each is a risk, and they’re in the way.  That will bring our total number of removed thru-hulls to 11.
• Remove the forward-looking sonar transducer.  Maybe the technology will be better someday, but for now I don’t think it’s worth having.
• Replace our unused speed log transducer with a combination depth, speed, and temp unit.  With keels 20 feet apart, seeing depth on both sides of the boat will be really helpful.  It will take some time to get the second depth integrated into the instrument displays, but we won’t have to haul out to do it.
• Have a surveyor look over the boat.  Our insurance company requires this every five years.  That anniversary is only six months away and with the bottom paint off, this will be the best opportunity for the surveyor to see the condition of the boat.
• Change the bolts on our backstay chainplates.   Some of the bolts are submerged, so we need to do this with the boat out of the water.
• Change the cutless bearings and zincs on the running gear, and grease the propellers.  That’s just regular maintenance.
• We also need to decide whether we want to keep the propellers counter-rotating, or change them to rotate the same direction, and whether we want to change the blade pitch.  These changes would be in anticipation of replacing the engines later on.
• Repair the bridgedeck strakes that were damaged when we broke our catwalk.
• Repaint the hulls with antifouling paint.  We’re going with Trinidad SR, a hard paint.  We haven’t been having much luck with ablative paints, and wanted to try something different.  We can always switch back later.

There will probably be a few other things that pop up along the way, but hopefully no big surprises.

In the meantime, Tanya has taken the kids on a little road trip to see friends and family.  I stayed behind to supervise the work and have rented a place nearby.  We figured the best thing for Spideycat was to stay aboard.  Since the boat’s air conditioners can’t run without cooling water, I bought a little window unit and ducted it down a hatch to keep her cool.

It turned out that the radar wasn’t broken.  It wouldn’t turn on because the moron who rewired the DC panel forgot to connect the negative side of that circuit.  Guilty.  My stupidity was compounded by the time and trials it took to figure that out.

Then when it did turn on, the display reported a “bearing pulse error” and the scanner wouldn’t turn.  I thought that was the nail in the coffin, and began researching new radar systems in earnest.

Without going into a lengthy technical explanation of the differences between traditional pulse radar and the newer frequency-modulated continuous wave (FMCW) “broadband” radar, my research led me to decide I wanted the latter.  I’m far more interested in what’s inside 1 mile than outside 10 miles.  Usually when I want radar, I want it NOW and don’t want to wait 1-2 minutes for a magnetron to warm up.  And then I want the radar image on my existing Navico-based chartplotter instead of a separate display.  All these pointed to Navico’s 4G radar.

But part of the research process involved poring over the manual for the old system.  It was then that I noticed our scanner has a safety switch on the back of it.  This switch is to prevent someone working on the scanner from getting zapped.  Normally, a switch on the back of a radar scanner 15 feet above the deck of a sailboat would have a hard time getting flipped accidentally.  But this sailboat has a monkey problem, and a flipped switch was a very real possibility.  Sure enough, I sent a monkey aloft to flip it back, and presto! we had radar again.

The night off Key Biscayne when our radar wouldn’t turn on, we narrowly missed running down a marker that wasn’t on our charts.  We may never have seen it at all except for the luminous eyes of the bird sitting on it — staring at us with silent reproach as we passed within a dozen yards.  Radar does seem a good bit more important now than it has in the past, but not quite to the point where we’re ready to replace a working system… yet.

We had the first kid fall between the boat and the dock this weekend.  

One of the things we’ve had to adjust to recently is having Take Two on a fixed dock instead of a floating one.  With a floating dock, the boat is always in the same position relative to the dock, so it’s easy to create a safe and comfortable way to get on and off.  

But a fixed dock never moves, and the boat, subject to tide, current, and wind, moves all over the place.  At times you can simply step from deck level, over the lifelines, and onto the dock.  But at other times the deck might be below and several feet away.  It can be very difficult if you have short legs, are carrying a baby, or wearing Italian shoes.  Which covers the whole crew at one time or another.

The preferred way to get aboard at low tide is the Tarzan method.  We have a halyard clipped to the toerail and a light painter from the halyard to the dock.  You pull the halyard to yourself by the painter and then swing aboard with your best yodel.  This works great for the kids, and even the adults after a few cocktails.  But it’s not so good at high tide, or for getting back off the boat.

The next effort was a ramp from the toerail to the dock.  I made it out of a 2×10 and put some 1×2 furring strips on it for tread.  It worked great, but it kept falling in the water between the boat and the dock.  We never saw it happen, so I could never discern exactly what the problem was, but eventually accepted that the ramp idea was flawed.

The latest invention is a step, made from some spare 2×10 into an inverted L-shape with triangular supports, and screwed into a piling.  The kids know that when I break out the power tools something interesting is about to happen, so the older ones were loitering around on the dock and casually watching me work.  Sam was last to join.  He saw kids on the dock, he saw a new step between the boat and the dock, and he deduced that the others must have used the step to get to the dock.  Unfortunately he was not correct.  The step was only tacked in place while I was busy cutting the triangles to support it.  

Nobody saw what happened next, but we all heard the big splash and Sam’s shrieks of fear.

Poor Sam.  All the kids had been coached: if you fall in the water, just swim to the transom steps and climb out.  It used to be that they could haul themselves right out onto the dock.  But the swimming part was new, and Sam hasn’t been the best listener lately.  With the surprise of falling six feet and finding himself in the water, he forgot to swim and instead bear hugged the barnacle-crusted piling.

Sam is okay.  A calm reminder was all he needed to detach from his piling and swim to where we could lift him out and hose him off.  He needed some patching up, and calming down, but once that was done it was like it had never happened.

The lesson here is that when you panic, rational thought often goes right out the window, and the results are often not good.  Unfortunately, panic is hard to predict or control.  Sam has jumped off the boat and swum to the transom hundreds of times for fun.  But the difference between jumping and falling triggered a completely different response.

Sometimes we just have to learn things the hard way.  To this day, I have a row of 3-inch scars on the inside of my left knee.  I got them when I was a little older than Sam.  It was the last time I ever tried to climb up a piling.  I’m betting this will be Sam’s last time, too.

Toward the end of our recent trip, we remarked to ourselves that the boat had done really well.  We had the sense that nothing had broken, but a review of the log tells a different story.

At the end of the trip, the “broken” list was:

• The washing machine doesn’t work on inverter power.  It comes on, but then freaks out and generally just doesn’t function.  The inverters are supposed to put out a pure sine wave, but I assume the washer is sensitive to some noise or anomaly in the signal.  To get the washer to work correctly, we have to run the big diesel generator for the whole 90 minute cycle (per load).
• The generator stopped inexplicably on two consecutive runs early in the trip.  I waved some tools in its general direction and it seems to have taken the hint.  No more trouble.
• The inner forestay tang broke.  I have no idea how this happened and I’m a little disconcerted by it.  I would not have guessed that this shroud was ever under enough load to break, but maybe three days of wave action generated by TS Debby was enough to fatigue it.  We replaced the staysail halyard with a low-stretch line, cranked it down, and carried on.

• Our anchor loads during the storm were enough that we could watch the bridle legs stretch.  Despite adjusting the wear point several times, the lines chafed enough that I think they warrant replacement.  And spares.
• We leaked in places that we’ve never leaked before.  If those are the conditions it takes to make those places leak, then they aren’t even worth fixing.  The rain was tremendous and the wind didn’t allow the water to drain properly, so the boat was effectively submerged.
• A newish cordless drill was dropped overboard by one of my little helpers.  It’s expected that tools will go overboard from time-to-time, and I took this in stride.  I did dive to look for it, but it was nowhere to be found.
• Our free kayak developed a new crack after we let the kids use it.

• Our radar refused to turn on.  It might be a simple fix, or it might be time for a new 4G broadband unit.
• The starboard alternator belt began squealing when the alternator load came on.  It was funny because we’d be motoring along just fine, then Tanya would use her Vita-Mix for something and the belt would start squealing as the alternator tried to compensate.  I’d had the belt off recently and probably didn’t put it back with enough tension.  Time to replace it anyway.
• The port engine got reluctant to start.  It normally starts easily enough, but runs rough until it warms up.  Not wanting to start at all is new.  Probably the injectors need to be rebuilt.  I should carry spares.
• When docking at our destination marina, I had the brilliant idea of using a dock line to check the boat’s momentum instead of using the engines.  What I didn’t account for is the upward force on the cleat from the fixed dock.  The result was a broken deck cleat, but it didn’t just fall off like the picture implies.  I found that broken piece 90 feet away.  I’m probably lucky it didn’t give me a haircut along the way.

• The dinghy motor’s electric tilt and trim stopped working again.  I think I’ve replaced that switch three times already.
• Last, but not even close to least, Tanya’s Vita-Mix stopped working temporarily.  Apparently, it was just over-heated, but for an hour it looked like we were all going to starve.  We’re adding a refurbished machine to our complement of spare parts.

We’ve been trying to get out of the marina for months.  Don’t get me wrong, we love it there – a little too much actually.  But we felt the need to detach, to do something more along the lines of what we bought the boat for.  After living in a marina too long, we start to ask ourselves why we live on a boat at all.  It was past time for a reminder.

But leaving the dock is hard.  The longer we’re there, the harder it is to get away.  The comforts and conveniences work their way so deep, we think we can’t live without them.  Like OMG, it’s almost July, we can’t turn off the air conditioner, WE’LL DIE!  Never mind that we spent a whole summer in the Keys without air.  We’ve battled heat, humidity, and ninja mosquitos, and prevailed.

I previously said we wanted to go up to the Chesapeake for the summer.  It was a noble goal and we were really excited about it, but we couldn’t get our ducks in a row to leave.  Boat projects dragged out, we spent far too much money on them so that I had to accept some work I didn’t really want, and then the air conditioner came on and it was hurricane season.  

Things finally reached a critical mass.  Something had to be done, and we began preparing for a departure.  We didn’t have a real solid destination in mind, but we were generally trying to get over to the FL East Coast.  It was always sort of assumed that the next time we left Bradenton our first stop would be the Dry Tortugas.  After returning from the Bahamas, it felt like the Tortugas were practically in our back yard, a scant 180 miles away.

All the items were checked off the departure list more or less on time, and the only thing left was the one we couldn’t control… the weather.  With a tropical thing brewing down near the Yucatan, which would eventually become TS Debby, the Tortugas didn’t seem doable.  At our boldest, we’re still fair weather sailors, and after a year at the dock, we weren’t feeling very bold.  

The wind had been steady from the E for days, which is great for the trip back and forth to the Tortugas, but was forecasted to shift S and maybe W depending on how the storm developed.  We couldn’t use the S to get down there, and didn’t want any part of strong W winds.  The weather would probably be rainy and nasty down there anyway, so we decided to take the last day of E and get down to Charlotte Harbor just to make progress.  We knew we could batten down and take a tropical storm there if necessary.

However, once we got out to the Gulf, the Charlotte Harbor plan wasn’t looking so good.   The E wind was already thinking about being SE, and there was a S swell I didn’t expect.  Actually, I had seen that detail during my weather research, but discounted and forgot about it.  The result was that we couldn’t make near the necessary speed to get to Charlotte Harbor by dark, and bashing into waves wasn’t making anyone happy.

This wasn’t what we’d bargained for and we had no need to torture ourselves, so we bailed out.  We did a 180 and headed back to Tampa Bay.  With the waves now behind us, our retreat was 100% faster than our advance.

Slightly demoralized, and without a plan, we were at a loss about where to go.  Should we go back to the marina?  The suggestion was unspoken, but it was hanging in the air.  I think Tanya and I both wanted it, but neither wanted to admit it.  It would have felt like such a failure to go running straight back to our slip.  Eventually it was Aaron who made the decision.  He wanted Terra Ceia.

Terra Ceia is a bay-within-a-bay.  Much of it is grassy flats, but it has a well-marked channel to an interior with plenty of water.  It is busy with fishing boats on the weekend but otherwise is very quiet.  It is almost totally surrounded by mangroves, and despite being only 3 miles from our marina, it has a very remote feeling.

This was the destination of our very first multi-day cruise many years ago.  We’d never been back, but there was something fitting about going there now.  For several days we swam, fished, and kayaked, and generally just enjoyed the boat while waiting out the weather.

There was something else fitting about being in Terra Ceia since that is our presumed hurricane hole for the Bradenton area.  We’re still watching Debby warily and don’t have any confidence in NOAA’s forecast tracks, which just recently moved her landfall from Texas to Pensacola, and even that not for another four days.  It seems like she could come our way just as easily.

We’ve already had more of Debby than we bargained for with two squalls so far with sustained winds of over 40 knots.  We have a new personal record with our instruments recording 47.3 knots during the second squall, which sustained 40-45 knots for over 5 minutes.  We’re only set with 5:1 scope, but the GPS shows we hardly moved at all – and that probably just due to the chain catenary, since we moved forward again after the squall passed.  I’m going to kiss that anchor if we can ever dig it out.  That was money well spent.

What we’ll do next we still don’t know.  I need to travel for a while, so we’ll probably end up at a dock somewhere for the rest of the summer.  Maybe we’ll try again for the other coast after this weather passes.  Or maybe we’ll feel like we’ve had a little break and a little bit of adventure, and can go back to Bradenton contented.

This just occurred to me this morning:

We have Google Sky, an app that you can use in a sort of augmented reality kind of way to view the sky through your phone or tablet and it will show you all the names of all the celestial bodies there.

We have range finder apps that you can use to measure the angular height of an object, ostensibly to determine the distance.  Some even have the very convenient ability to calculate bullet drop.  Umm, okay.

We have celestial calculator apps that contain nautical almanacs through 2099 and will do the sight reductions for you.

So how long is it before you can point your phone to the sky and it can tell you where you are?

I’ve said a few times here that I thought the instrument manufacturers were falling pretty short on the display and visualization of sailing data.  

I’m able to make do with what we have, which are analog needles for wind direction and LCD displays for numeric data like speeds and headings, but it takes a bit of imagination and mental effort to put the various pieces of information together into an accurate picture of what’s going on.  I suppose that’s good since it forces you to really pay attention (some would argue that any electronics are a crutch and a barrier to really feeling the boat), but it also means that the mechanics of sailing remain somewhat mysterious to people who don’t have an innate sense of it.

This is a situation that I think is beginning to change, primarily due to the technology advances in screens and microprocessors.  I can’t help crediting Apple for making pods, pads, and phones a part of daily life, thus creating market demand to drive the technology forward, and showing us that user interfaces don’t have to suck.

I also have to say that I don’t have my finger on the pulse of marine electronics, and I’m not even in the market to buy new instruments.  So I may not be 100% accurate on the capabilities of what’s currently available, but I think I’m pretty close.

Without really looking too hard, this is the best display I’ve seen so far.  It is the B&G Triton T41, and Ben Ellison recently gave it a little writeup over on Panbo.  You may recall that I gave props to B&G for their Zeus displays.  Two points for B&G.

What I like about this display is the little “T” for true wind, and the cone around the “A”.  I assume the cone represents the actual variations in wind direction, and not just a fixed buffer around the current reading.  I’d feel more confident about this if their “A” in the image weren’t dead center in the cone.  Wind isn’t steady and naturally oscillates back and forth.  A good visualization would simultaneously show the range, the average direction, the trend, and hint what direction the next shift might be.

This is a step in the right direction, but I still want more.  About a year ago I felt tempted to try my hand at creating my own display.  I never had any delusions of grandeur, but thought it had potential to be useful.  The odds that I’m actually going to do any more with it are waning, and in order to cement my bragging rights later on, I figured I’d go ahead and show it.  Who knows, maybe some product development person, or somebody else with too much time on their hands, will build it for me.

This is a working prototype running in Windows and reading Take Two’s instrument data over Wi-Fi.  I know it doesn't look like much, but I'm rather proud of it.  This old dog can still learn new tricks. 

The inner dial is relative to the boat, and the outer dial is the magnetic compass (relative to the Earth).  The four arrows around the outer dial are “A” (apparent wind angle), “T” (true wind angle), “W” (bearing to waypoint), and “O” (opposite tack angle).  The bar at the bottom is a rudder indicator.

We’re currently tied to the dock so there is no boat speed, and headings don’t change more than a degree or two.  Without speed, the True wind tracks the Apparent.  About half way into the video, I switch the display from “heading (inner dial) up” to “north (outer dial) up” to show the movement of the dials.

Improvements on the drawing board before development stalled include markers on either end of the apparent wind range, and a color gradient between them to indicate the average angle.  

The next evolutionary step that I would really like to see is a visualization like this overlaid on a chart.  All chartplotters have a little icon to indicate the boat’s position.  The only instrumentation I’ve seen from that is the projected track (where the boat is headed a number of minutes into the future at present course and speed).  Why not a compass?  Why not wind angle indicators?  Why not laylines for your waypoint and opposite tack? Maybe the Zeus does some of this.

So there it is.  You might get the sense that I'm difficult to please when it comes to technology items, and you'd be right.  I often struggle with build vs. buy decisions.  Unfortunately (or not), I can't afford the time to tinker.  I recently found this blog by a guy building his own transducers, which I find fascinating.

A boat from our marina went out yesterday with a guest aboard.  Turns out this guest had a heart condition and couldn’t swim.  So when he reached too far for a dock line and fell in the water, he died.  Several people rushed to assist, and even dove in after him, but it was too late.  They saved him from drowning, but not from an apparent heart attack.

I’ve been searching for my reaction to this, but so far haven’t found one.  I never met the man, and missed the whole hullabaloo.

People fall off of docks and boats all the time, but usually without fatal consequences.  Mark fell in late one night after a few too many.  By the time Bill happened to find him, he was quite blue. Then Bill fell in another day while docking his boat.  Patrick saw it happen from the next dock over and came to help.  All our kids have fallen in, except Rachel, but she will someday.  Aaron fell in just a few weeks ago while trying to slackline between the boat and the dock.  Back on H-Dock, falling in was almost a sport and there was an actual trophy and awards ceremony.  When Mikey went in he knocked himself out and it took two guys to haul his sorry ass back onto the dock.  Injuries are usually only to the person’s pride, but the barnacles can give some nasty cuts.  I haven’t fallen in since I was about eight, but I still have the scars.

The major complication in this case was that the guy panicked.  It didn’t help at all that the docks in that area are fixed and it was low tide at the time.  I’m all for old guys and non-swimmers going sailing, but maybe he shouldn’t have been on the bow without a life jacket.  The owners take their boat out duo all the time, so he didn’t really need to be on the bow at all.  I’m sure they wouldn’t have allowed him to take that risk if they knew he couldn’t swim.

There’s an assumption, especially among boat people, that everyone can swim.  If you can’t, you really ought to tell the captain.  There’s no shame in that.  I know of another case, where a guest, while wading from the beach out to the boat, waited until the water was up to neck to mention that he couldn’t swim.  That’s annoying.

I think I’d sense more tragedy here if I’d known the guy, or if I’d been there to see it happen.  But those thoughts would likely be tainted by emotion.  The fact of the matter is that any of us can go at any time, even moreso a 79-year-old man with a heart condition.  It might have happened tomorrow while he was brushing his teeth.  Falling in the water was bad form, and his last moments must have been terrifying, but if you skip over that part, he was having a great day.  And he died with the sun shining on his face.  That’s not all bad.

So I apologize for not being sad and mushy about all this.  My advice, if you ever fall in the water, is DON’T PANIC.  And always know where your towel is.

I found this recently.  It was written pre-blog, back when we had a house, a 22-foot monohull, and only dreamed about a bigger boat.  I love how worried I was about the kids falling off the boats.  That was before they were full-fledged boat kids.  But if I took them to a boat show today, I’d still have to yell at them for jumping on the trampolines.

St Pete Boat Show 2005 (November 05, 2005)

We took the kids to their first boat show in St. Pete yesterday.

We’ve been trying to get them used to the idea that we may one day live on a boat. They’re intrigued, but understandably are somewhat dubious. Their only prior on-board experience has been a tour on one of my race boats and an afternoon on a pocket cruiser in Maine.

So yesterday we took them on a 36 ft. catamaran. It was the Jaguar, a South African cat. They were at the same show last year, which I thought surprising. Most of the attendees at St. Pete are the Florida builders. Hunter, Catalina, Caliber, Island Packet, Manta…? I had gone to the show specifically to see the Manta, a 42-foot catamaran, but they weren’t there. I was a bit put out.

The boys however, had a ball. I was annoyed and a little stressed out, so I’m sure I dampened their fun, but they definitely got the idea that this boat thing was alright.

I gave them a little tour, pointed out the important parts. “These are called lifelines. They can save your life. Don’t trip on the hatch. See the boom? You should always hold onto something. One hand for you, and one for the boat.” Which technically is the rule for when you’re peeing over the side, but it sounded like a good rule in general and I was paranoid about somebody falling overboard. “This is the bow. These are called trampolines, but they’re not really for…” Too late.

I probably had nothing to worry about. Given my height and size, I am a lot more precarious than they are. The boat was so big, they were hardly aware of the water at all. At one point, Aaron peered through the netting of the tramp and exclaimed, “There’s water down there!” Still, I had visions of somebody taking a bad bounce and going right off the bow. They were oblivious to the danger. I should throw them in the pool fully clothed to make the point.

Still annoyed, I didn’t want to go on any other boats and was ready to head home. The boys were not. They wanted more boats. We found one more their size and the sales rep was very nice to let them play in it.

Afterward I had the treat of paying $28 for 3 hot dogs, a corn dog, a pile of French fries and a smoothie. Still annoyed, I wandered off to browse the displays of anchors, life rafts, engines, and other nautical whatnot. My wife, having a fantastic ability to meet friendly people when I’m not around (go figure), strikes up a conversation with the guy playing kettle drums. It turns out that he and his wife are former charter boat captains. They came ashore to have their kids, now 1 and 3, and are ready to head back out to do the family cruising thing. I love how he describes his shoreside existence: “We have some stuff in Orlando”. It was good for her to have that interaction, talk to folks that share the same dream, and to top it off she scored some cool steel drum CDs.

After lunch, the boys still wanted more boats, but our policy is to “quit while you’re still having fun,” so we left. Although I didn’t get to see the boat that I was looking forward to, it was still a successful trip. The boys got an idea for what kind of boat we’re talking about and they left hungry for more. And a little tired, too.

A while back I promised a list of the changes we made this past year.  It is a difficult list to make since there were so many and some more significant than others. We started making these changes when we hit the dock in February 2011, so we’re tentatively calling this the 2011-12 refit.  However, since it’s still 2012 and we’re still at the dock I can’t say for sure that the list is complete.

Aircon Strainers – Replaced the cheap plastic strainers on the air conditioners’ raw water pumps with big bronze Grocos.   The strainer baskets are larger, and they open from the top, so we can change them without getting nasty water everywhere.

Ambient Cockpit Lights – We spend a lot of time in our cockpit at night, but were never happy with our lighting.  We have flood lights, which are great if you lose a contact, but aren’t very pleasant to eat under.  We installed some Imtra warm white LED rope lighting under the bimini and are very happy with it.

Anchor – We upgraded our 44# Delta to an 80# Manson Supreme.

Autopilot Brain – Replaced our AP core pack with a new one we carried as a spare.  The old one is now the spare, but only for temporary use.  An AP failure would likely start a big electronics upgrade.

Autopilot Gyro – Added a rate gyro to the autopilot.  It should improve Otto’s ability to steer to the wind and keep a course in big waves.

Autopilot Power Supply – Wired the autopilot to an unswitched power supply to limit voltage drop.  Utilized separate contacts to turn Otto on and off.  The next autopilot will be 24V.

Auxiliary Refrigerator – For the longest time we had a cooler as a bench seat at the salon table.  We used it mainly for produce and swapped water bottles between it and the freezer.  We replaced that cooler with an EdgeStar refrigerator/freezer chest.  The galley refrigerator and freezer work much more efficiently now that they aren’t constantly having beer and water bottles swapped in and out, and the new unit can back up either of the galley units if they should fail.  We haven’t bothered to compare power usage yet.

Bridgedeck Fountain Covers – Made covers for some of the bridgedeck drains to subdue the geysers of water we get through them in following seas.  Our generator and inverters in particular do not like salt water.

Cabintop Steps – We put a pair of small steps on either side of the cabintop to make getting up and down from the “roof” easier.

Catwalk – We broke the original one and had to replace it.

Central DC Panel – Replaced the central breaker panel and cleaned up the wiring behind it.  We’ll eventually do the same in the port and starboard hulls.

Cockpit Coaming Rehab – The raw teak cockpit coamings needed some TLC.  We filled the cracks that were developing and then finished the wood with polyurethane to match the table.

Cockpit Cushions – Our cockpit cushions are simple closed cell foam with Phifertex mesh covers.  We made two new cushions and replaced the covers.  We’re planning to snap them down with adhesive SNAD sockets.

Cockpit Drawer – There is a large storage area under the helm seat, but it was only accessible by tilting back the entire seat pedestal.  This was awkward, especially when somebody was trying to drive.  Instead we cut a hole in the side and put in a big drawer.  That makes access easier and removes a major design constraint for a new helm seat design.

Cockpit Locker Lids – We lost a couple to rot and decided to replace them all.  The strip they hinged into was also rotting.  Replacing the backing strip led to repainting the whole cockpit.

Cockpit Shade Panels –We had some simple Phifertex panels made that unroll from the bimini frame and attach to screw eyes around the perimeter of the cockpit.  These give welcome shelter from the sun and the wind, but are pretty useless against rain.  We’re still trying to figure out a dodger.

Cockpit Table – The original cockpit table was ugly and seemed to always be in the way.  We could take it inside, but had to disassemble it to do so.  The new table has a gorgeous solid teak top, and leaves that fold up.  It can pass through the salon door without disassembly.  The table is much bigger, but we generally only fold the leaves out at mealtimes, so the cockpit feels more spacious.

Companionway Steps – The steps from the salon down into the hulls used to be covered with nasty old carpet and were really hard to keep clean.  Now they’re teak and look much better.

Crib – Needed a place for Rachel to sleep.  The crib was designed to transform into a toddler bed, a big girl bed, and finally back into general seating as she grows.

Curtains – With four original bedrooms and bathrooms, and other assorted storage areas, we had a total of 10 hinged doors.  They were constantly blocking access to something if latched, or banging if unlatched.  We removed them and put up curtains instead.

DC Fuse Blocks – Added proper fuse blocks for all the unswitched loads connected directly to the DC busses.

Deck Awnings – We’re continuing to look for a solution to keep the deck and cabin shaded during the summer heat, but doesn’t require us to gather in large areas of canvas during the summer rain squalls.  We’re currently playing with tensioned shade sails, but have not yet had the opportunity to observe them in more than 20 30 knots of wind.

Deck Fill Hatches – The hatches covering our deck fuel and water fill ports have never been very secure.  One was original but didn’t fit quite right and allowed salt water to get into the fuel and water tanks.  Someone went to a lot of trouble to replace the other one with a “waterproof” plastic lid, but the lid was cracked, it leaked, and the ring it sat on was rotting.  We went back to the builder’s original solution, but the new lids are lockable to dissuade someone from adding or removing anything from our tanks.

Dinghy Lift Hardware – We had a piece fabricated for our dinghy lift system, the design of which was modeled from a cut-up beer box.

Dri-Dek – We love this stuff.  We put down Dri-Dek matting in the cockpit and several of our storage areas.  We’re planning to put it in the bottom of the RIB too.

Engine Covers – Our engines are in the hulls under the salon step landings.  To lift the old engine covers, we had to move away the fore and aft steps.  The cover lifted free, and then we had to find somewhere to put it.  Now the covers are hinged and can be opened much easier.

Fourth Cabin – Through a number of cleaning, organization, and cosmetic projects, we have successfully activated our fourth cabin.  We haven’t yet freed all that room’s shelving and closet space, but at least we have a bed for (moderately athletic) guests and crew.

Galley Breaker Panel – Added a new breaker panel to control the port and starboard water pumps, the salt water pump, the propane alarm, and the propane solenoid.

Galley Countertops – We changed from a Formica countertop to a teak veneer.  It was mostly a cosmetic change, but the old countertop had been cut up when we changed the stove.

Galley Faucet – We changed the galley faucet from a household model to a marine model that should help us conserve water.

Gooseneck – This is the joint where the boom meets the mast.  Above that is the tack assembly, often with horns to hook the sail on when reefed.  Our gooseneck was experiencing some unhealthy wear against the mast bracket, the reefing horns were bent, and the tack assembly was threatening to break off.  Some HDPE washers seem to have fixed the wear issue, and a new tack assembly and 5/8" bolt have corrected the rest.  We need to come up with a new method for reefing to keep it from happening again.

Head Renovations – The starboard forward, port forward, and port aft heads all received paint and teak grated floors.  Starboard forward and port aft also received freshwater electric toilets.  Sumps are emptied by remote diaphragm pumps through Jabsco bilge strainers.  The starboard forward and port aft holding tanks now both have diaphragm discharge pumps with dedicated pickups.

Headliner – The original ceilings were 1/8” door skin panels.  They were ugly to begin with and had not fared well over the years.  They were held up by plastic trim and we couldn’t figure out how to get the panels down to access wiring etc. without destroying them.  The new panels are 1/4" ply with a birch veneer.  They’re a little heavier, but can hold a screw, so are easier to put up and take down.

Instruments Changes – Chart plotter, AIS, NMEA Multiplexer, DSC, Satellite weather, etc.

Jib Cars – The old cars were a tri-roller type.  They didn’t fit our track correctly, which caused some deck damage, which caused some rot.  They also were chafing our rather expensive jib sheets.  We replaced the cars with some very beefy new ones that Garhauer made to fit our track.

Jib Furling Line – The jib furling line is not something you want to have break since the sail will promptly unroll, probably at the worst possible time.  Ours was looking suspicious so we replaced it.

Lazarette Shelving – The storage areas in the aft end of either hull now have shelves where we can store some of the plastic bins that are constantly threatening to overrun us.

Motor Mount – We carry a spare dinghy outboard, but have never had a good place to put it.  So we built a mount for it on the back of the boat.

Nav Station – The nav station was completely redesigned to be more like an office desk and less like a chart table.  The only storage in the old one was under the hinged top.  The new one has four drawers, two of which can fit hanging files, and some shelves which fit the SSB perfectly.

Paint, paint, paint – We painted the topsides, the deck, the cabintop, and the cockpit; basically the whole outside of the boat above the waterline.  The red underbelly still needs to be done, as well as the bottom, but we’ll have to haul out for those.

Pantry Shelving – We added additional shelving to Tanya’s pantry to increase space and organization.

Port Forward Lazarette Hatch – The big 24”x24” hatch on or port bow had a cracked and leaky lens since we’ve owned the boat.  We couldn’t find a direct Gebo replacement to match the others, but the Lewmar Ocean hatches have the same cutout sizes.  I think Gebo makes a better quality hatch.

Port Fuel Fill Hose – The hose between the deck fill and the top of the tank was too short and left a gap at the top of the hose.  You had to be careful to fully insert the pump nozzle all the way down into the top of the hose or the fuel would be pumped down the outside of the hose and into the boat.  This has happened.  Replaced with a longer hose.

Propane Locker – We keep our propane in a vented bridgedeck locker, but expected to get dinged on our next survey.  We built a proper vapor tight propane locker that should pass muster with a surveyor.

Propane Solenoid – We were warned that a propane alarm with integrated solenoid control was a bad idea, but we had to learn it for ourselves.  Now they are separate and we can continue using the propane if the alarm goes off for silly reasons.

Salon Table – The old table was aesthetically out of place and had to go.  The new table top matches the nav desk and galley countertops and has drawers and a cabinet in the base.

Salon Upholstery – We replaced all the cushions in the salon.  The seats are waterproof vinyl with removable Sunbrella covers.  The backs were changed from moveable cushions to a fixed bolster.

Single Side Band – We installed an SSB transceiver.  Don’t really know how to use it yet.

Sound Insulation – Installed SPM soundproofing tiles in the engine and generator rooms.

Spare Dinghy – We got rid of the Porta-Bote and bought a 10’ Avon inflatable. The inflatable should be easier to store and easier to deploy.

Stereo Remote – Added a remote control at the helm for our Fusion stereo.

Tramp Attachment – Changed our trampoline attachments from eye straps to track and slides.

Vacuum Cleaner – We supplemented our big wet/dry vac with a small and light Oreck canister vacuum that was more suitable for carrying around the boat, especially by the kids.

Washer/Dryer – We installed a Splendide combo washer and dryer (vented).  It’s a good washer, and it was a decent dryer for about a month, but it quickly clogged with lint and we can’t figure out how to clean it.

Water Heater – We changed our Isotemp water heater for a Raritan, eliminated the check valve in the cold water supply, and trapped the thermostatic mixer.  We have better temperature control, but I think we’re losing a lot of heat to convection.

Water Meter – Installed a water meter with a remote LCD display in the galley to track our fresh water use.

Watermaker Overhaul – Replaced the feed pumps, membrane, hydraulic hoses, and fittings.

Watermaker Strainer – Replaced the cheap plastic strainer near the watermaker with a big bronze Groco near the thru-hull.

Workbench – Installed a dedicated workbench and tool area in our starboard hull.

Zinc Nuts on Prop Shafts – During our last haulout the yard forgot, or decided not to replace our shaft zincs.  I don’t know if they’re strictly necessary from a galvanic protection standpoint, but I like having them in case our shafts try to slip out.  We had a diver put them back.