Livin’ the Dream

With the True North tied to the work dock at Eliason Harbor in Sitka last week – still not out fishing – I looked up to the sound of  my wife’s laughter as she came back aboard the boat.  “I met this scraggledy guy coming down the ramp, with a smile on his face, coffee in hand, and a big bag of  parts in the other hand.  I asked how he was doing, and he said, ‘Just livin’ the Dream!’ “   Broke, always repairing something, but here we are, doing just that.  If you feel some dark irony in the statement, you probably are not far off.  What a week.

With all our friends except Kirk up north fishing, we have been feverishly working to get things ready.  I promised not to tell, but Kirk is an awesomely thoughtful person, above and beyond the call of typical friendship.  An enormously capable welder, rigger, mechanic, just to mention a few skills, he has delayed his fishing season 3 weeks now just to help us get finished and safely to the Cove.  I’m humbled by such undeserved attention and assistance. 

(Why replace old rigging plates…?)

 

It finally all began to come together about a week ago.  The hayrack roof was completed, the a-frame on, the seat mounted, gurdies turning and tuned, pit cover fitted, and the fish hold spotless, ready for ice.  Lovie had the inside all cozy and nice, and we were all set to go.   The awesome bell that Orin and Sarai sent from Korea, fully engraved with the business name was hung on the new mount on the mast, ready for the first fog.  We moved on the boat, and spent our first two nights sleeping the lovely, peaceful sleep that comes from the motion of the ocean.  

 

Tuesday morning we stocked up with the last minute provisions, and while Lovie made a last laundry run, I fired the boat up and followed Kirk north for the 7 mile run to Halibut Point fuel dock to top off the tanks and give the boat the first test run before the long trip to Cross Sound.  We plan to go up the outside coast, a new experience for us –  it’s about a 16 hour run at 7 knots, and not a speck of civilization along the way.  The chart looks like someone peppered it with dots that represent rocks, probably the most I’ve seen on any chart anywhere.  With only the wide Pacific on the port side, and rocks on the starboard, you really have no room for error.  All this in a new boat with unproven changes.  Again, thank you, Kirk for sticking with us. 

So, off I went, intently listening, watching, checking every system, every possible area of failure – what a dream the little boat is!  The new engine is so quiet, I can hardly tell it’s running, just a gentle purr on deck.  The shortened poles and stiffer rigging reduced the roll, even without the stabilizers in the water.  I ran it progressively faster and faster, varying the speed as instructed to help seat the rings.  About 30 minutes out, I heard a strange, high-pitched “Pzwiiing” noise, that went away and never came again.  I noted it, then dismissed it as just an anomaly.  About 2 minutes later, total panic.  My oil pressure dropped to zero, usually a sure sign of major meltdown about to occur.  I immediately killed the engine, radioed Kirk, and opened the hatch.  No fluids in the bilge;  oil on the dipstick; no overheating…  After some conferring, we decided that we would just try to start it again and see if the pressure came up.  I did, but it didn’t.  Nothing seemed different, so we idled slowly without incident for the next 30 minutes to the fuel dock.  180 gallons (cough, cough) later, we headed back to Sitka. 

Halfway home, I got brave and increased the speed slightly, then more yet.  The temperature began to rise some, so I backed off, then killed it.  Again, examining the engine as it cooled down, there was no noise, no sign of problem.  When the temp cooled down, I started it again, and idled the rest of the way in.  Suspecting a defective pressure sensing unit, I headed for the parts house.  Finally finding a replacement, I made the change and optimistically started the engine.  Still zero.  More concerned, I pulled the sensor out of the block and turned the motor over with the starter.  No oil.  Really bad sign… I pulled the hose to the filter off and rolled the engine again… you guessed, no oil. 

I got on the phone to the dealer / mechanic who sold the engine and described the symptoms.  To make a long story short without all the excruciatingly painful details, Kirk and I, in two hours, ripped the floor out, removed the rear wall into the hold, moved the battery, the exhaust, the hydraulic pump, all the hoses, belts, lines, and wires attached to the motor; removed the transmission, undid the motor mounts, hooked a come-along to the ceiling and stood the engine up on the bell housing.  There were babbit and bronze shavings in the bottom of the oil pan, not a very good sign.  We pulled the oil pump off, and there it  was.  A split gear caused the oil pump shaft to break, starving my engine of oil to the main bearings.  This usually ruins an engine in a few minutes of operation.  How did mine survive with almost no damage whatsoever??  Providence, and the Teflon additive, similar to Slick 50, that Larry Stewart, the mechanic, had put in for the break in period.  Wowser.  No overheated crank, no seized bearings, nothing.  Only a little, minor galling on one thrust bearing.  Wow.

So, tonight, we sleep back in the safe haven of Doland’s with the motor upended, gutted like an October deer in Montana.  Parts will be on the plane tomorrow;  we will replace the main and rod bearings, oil pump, lift pump, freeze plugs (one had failed on me earlier, causing an antifreeze leak), and who knows what else. 

Looks like we may get to fish before the end of July, if all goes well.  We can’t spend any more money, there simply is none.  Hope we get a fish check before the August bills start hitting the bank! 

Livin the Dream, right here in Alaska.

Stay tuned.

Almost Ready

For those unfortunate few who occasionally read my ramblings, I apologize for the month-long lapse.  Nothing of exciting or general interest has really happened – it’s basically been work, work, work, from 7 to 7 or whenever for days on end.  My own estimation of my abilities to get things done was off by about 50%, as was an estimate of the dollars it would take.  Unfortunately, both were in the wrong direction, so we still are not fishing, and the first king opener is well under way.  If all goes well, we should be heading north in about 5 days. 

I started by cutting a 3 foot square hole in my bulkhead between engine room and fish hold.  That freed me up to access the shaft coupling ( which connects the propeller shaft to the gearbox on the engine) so that I could disconnect it.  I then slid the shaft back about 6  inches, watching carefully to be sure I didn’t make the cutlass bearing seal leak, which would fill the boat with water and sink it.  It took several days to disconnect all the pumps, batteries, and peripheral hoses, tubing, wires, and so forth.  

Once the engine was totally disconnected, I found a stout 4x4 post that spanned the roof of the wheelhouse, and removed the big bolt that was directly in the center of the roof, evidently put there by some past owner who had pulled the engine before.  I ran a long eyebolt up thru the roof and the 4x4, and to that I was able to connect a chain hoist which would raise the engine.  It was with some trepidation that I began to put pressure on the setup – not sure about how stout the fiberglass of the cabin was to hoist a 1000 pound engine,  I only incrementally pulled on the lift.  Some creaking and popping occurred, but no signs of collapse, so I continued until the front of the engine had lifted a couple of inches.  I began blocking it up using wood blocks, then moved pressure to the rear of the engine and lifted it.  Slowly, it began to rise.  I had to lift it 16 inches above its normal resting spot to get the 4x4 posts under it so I could slide it back into the fish hold.  Finally, it was in place, and I used the chain hoist to pull it to the rear of the boat.  Dawn soap on the wood made it slide pretty easily, and it was finally in position. 

I measured the engine/transmission length carefully, and determined that if we brought it up at an angle, we could just barely get it out thru the big hatch of the fish hold without further disassembly.  Kirk, Connley, and Steve were all available to help, so we tied the True North to Steve’s Ebb Tide and towed it over to the City dock where a crane is available for use to the public for a fee.  Kirk ran the crane, Connley coordinated between Kirk ( who couldn’t see what was happening down below) and me, and Steve and I hooked up the crane hook to the engine and guided it out of the hatch.  There were some real butterflies in my stomach as 1000 pounds of iron was slowly raised higher and higher above my boat – one slip or miscalculation and it would plunge thru the boat hull, sinking it at a rapid rate!   A collective sigh of relief was audible once it was over dry land, and placed on the truck! 

The new, beautiful blue Perkins was carefully lowered into the hold, and the process began in reverse.  Winch it forward, then slowly lower it into position.  Once I had it blocked in exactly the right spot – transmission and shaft have to be within two thousandths of an inch or your shaft eventually breaks and beats a hole in your boat – I had to fabricate 4 motor mounts to tie it in position. 

These are massive items, each one a little different due to the angle the motor sits at – half inch steel plate, about 9 inches high, with strengthening gussets, all drilled in precisely the right spot.  That took me several days at Kirk’s shop, but finally they were right.  Once I bolted them in, I removed the big wood blocks that I had used to support the engine, then fine tuned the mounting with brass shims until I got the shaft and engine perfectly aligned.  All this monkeying around took well over 2 and half weeks.  Then, I began re-wiring, re-plumbing, re-mounting all the peripheral stuff.  New mounting brackets for the washdown pump and hydraulic pump; new throttle cables from fore and aft; new transmission cable; filter mounting, etc.   I made a new battery box to fit an 8D battery, a behemoth with 1650 cold cranking amps so I don’t have to worry about running out of juice when at anchor.   We installed a new high-tech regulator to manage charging the two independent battery banks – one for starting, one for running all the electronics, lights, and other items.  I removed all the old, rotten hydraulic lines, and am running new ones.  The list just goes on and on.   There is a magic word that doubles the price on anything you buy here  -- “Marine” !  All our bolts, washers, screws, nuts are stainless steel; any plumbing fittings are either bronze($$) or stainless($$).  It hurts to go to Murray Pacific every day, buy 8 or ten small bolts, and walk out $50 –100 poorer.  Wish I could figure out how to SELL them!

Finally, after building a new exhaust system to the tune of about $1200,  the moment came to start the engine – boy was I nervous!  It started without a burp, and seemed to work well.  We decided to replace the prop – the old one was WAY over pitched, putting a lot of stress on the drive train, so we tentatively drove it to the grid, the second time on there this month!  We were a bit optimistic on the amount of water we needed as a minimum, slid it into place at exactly high tide, moved it to align it once, and were promptly stuck as the water receded a half an inch! Boy was that close!  I’ll not cut it that fine again; if we had been a bit crooked, we had no reserve water to get in place, and we could have tipped all 25,000 pounds of boat over on it’s side.  Luck of the fools….    On the way over, it was obvious how bad the prop ratio was – I could barely go slow enough to maneuver in close quarters, so changing to the spare, lower pitched prop was a good move.

Once off the grid, I made the first long (half a mile!) trip down to Eliason harbor to the work dock.  The engine temperature climbed to an unacceptable 230 degrees; I coasted in to the dock, killed the engine before it got any hotter, and began to assess why the temperature extreme.  Turns out that the wrong thermostat was installed; a half a day draining antifreeze, pulling the expansion tank, prying out the old thermostat, and installing a new one finally solved the problem.  Everything’s cool, man.  Yea.

In addition to engine room items, Connley and Kirk were working on my gurdy rebuild – what a beautiful job they did!  The old, failing 2-spoolers now have become rebuilt 3-spoolers, with many more years of life in them than I will ever fish.  Last year they were failing at an alarming rate, suddenly releasing and freewheeling down, losing gear and endangering hands and feet, or risking pulling you over the side.  This should be a LOT better, safer, and more efficient.

About mid June, Steve(Ebb Tide) and Scott(Myrth) headed up to check out the chum (dog) salmon fishery at Homeshore, in Icy Straits.  This has become pretty popular in the last couple of years, and now we found out why.  They have already made as much in 2 weeks as we made last season;  it’s repetitive, boring, but it pays well.  Maybe next year I’ll try it.  Can’t argue with the dollars….

July 1, Connley headed north to Cross Sound for the king opener.  He took his 80+ year old dad and his uncle along, as well as the new deckhand from Jackson Hole.   Sounds like they are doing quite well so far.   Fish are big this year, and the prices, due to world economics, are very good.  If I ever get there….!

Things got better – Lovie arrived!  Sure makes a difference to have her here – the term “helpmate” sure does apply.

This week, we finished up the roof of the hayrack.  It is attached to my old pipe frame, which is on it’s way out.  When we removed it, only 3 of the 8 big mounting bolts were actually holding it down.  The rest were eaten completely in two by electrolysis, a very real problem on these boats.  We built the roof so that we can remove the old pipe one this fall, build some sides, and attach the roof to the walls, to complete the new, open deck hayrack.  That will be really grand.

The poles, several feet too long, and with numerous rigging ailments, have been shortened, new stainless steel pad-eye inserts mounted, and lots of other goodies.  We hope to have them re-attached in a couple of days.  The aluminum for the A-frame is lying next to the boat, and should be installed tomorrow. 

Connley is coming back to Sitka shortly to go on the grid- he has a leak he really needs to find and fix – Kirk and his son Jason in the Yager, and Lovie and me in the True North hope to go back north with him in a few days. 

The engine runs, the prop seems ok, the electrical is all working --- there is hope! 

Stay tuned for fish…!   So tired…