In a hole and no one to pull me out, in more ways than one!

Tuesday 12 February, St.Maarten day 15: Self induced dramas today.
The wind is up today, and so is the swell. Cloudy was rock’n’rolling on anchor all night. Seems like the trade winds are back again after at least 2 weeks of relative calm.

The usual trip ashore to start the day. Visit to my new favorit shop, ElecTec where I buy some spare switches for the davits. The ones we have don’t look very IP65 so good to have some spare. Then to North Sails where there is no progress on the spinnaker sock. Then to Budget to buy a 5gal diesel fuel can. When we cross the Pacific I would like some extra fuel stored in reserve. We would only get 4 hours motoring (or 8 hours generator) out of a 5 gallon can but I plan to have 4 of these containers kept in reserve, stored deep in the bilge sitting just above the keel bolts. I’ve got the floor boards up and have measured to see the size of jerry-can that can be squeezed into the narrow space.

Back on Cloudy Bay the 5 gallon container fits through the gap perfectly. Now I need some plywood to lay on top of the keel bolts. The bilge itself is perfectly dry so I go about giving it a clean while it’s all open. Toilet brush on a stick to loosen all the various bits, a vacuum, then bilge cleaner, scrub and rinse out. There, perfectly clean. Ok, Ok, yes, I’m a clean-aholic! But I need to be ready for inspection by Sergeant-Major Oana at 06:00Hr next Tuesday!

Next job is to finish putting together the hydraulic fittings on the deck that I gave up with last night. This time I’m prepared. All rags are taped down to tackle the wind and I have one of Oana’s q-tips (ear buds) to apply grease and get these damned little balls back in place. I need one hand to hold back the spring-loaded sleeve while I do this delicate operation before the balls roll all over the deck and the next rain squall arrives. This operation must be close to trying to put a watch back together while riding on a hobby-horse! But after some swearing, it’s a big hurray when I get the final lock ring in place and everything is secured. Oana is buying me some new balls in Bucharest (read that how you wish!) but for now it’s the cleaned up rusty ones back in place. Then heat shrink is slid on over the entire quick-connect fitting and heat-shrunk into place. Rather tricky in this wind to keep my blow torch lit. Job done. That was a tedious one.

Next is to put the bimini back on. In this wind? Surely not. No, I’m sure I can do it. I zip the leading edge on first while the rest of it is flapping wildly over the cockpit. But when I try zipping on the trailing edge I find 2 of the zips are smashed. Bugger! Must have been when the material was flapping against the metal frame. So yet again, 3rd time, I take the bimini back to North Sails. For new zips this time. Caroline, the canvas lady (who I know quite well now!) comments that it will soon be cheaper to have a new bimini made. Hmmmm I don’t like the sound of that. I’d better brace myself for the bill.

On Cloudy Bay again I tackle the stern ladder. In Antigua I dropped one of the pieces in the water when the ladder was off for a service. The water was so murky in Jolly Harbour that I could not find it. Anyway, the current ladder is getting rusty and a little bent so time for a new one. I found the exact ladder in Budget Marine here, but the fittings need a slight modification. This time I get the old ladder off without dropping anything into the water. Then, with my grinder on the swim platform I set about modifying the part while being extremely careful to hold it down tight so it does not accidentally “kick” into the water as I grind it.
Almost done, I pick it up and for a split second I loose my grip …. and yes …. splosh into the sea it goes. F..!, F…! And double F…! and many such other words. I severely scold myself and order to get into the F…ing water RIGHT NOW! to retrieve it. A small pitiful voice in my head is saying, “oh please, no, it’s dark now. Let’s do it in the morning”. “IN, NOW” shouts the first voice. So with torch in hand into the waves I go. I search for a good 10 minutes but can’t see it. Visibility is reasonable but not great. On the last dive I’m just about out of breath when I turn and suddenly, staring me in the face, is a large Baracuda!! with its mouth full of teeth hanging open (as they usually do). I know Barracuda are harmless to humans (they only like fish the size of Nemo) but I don’t think I’ve ever surfaced so fast, screaming all the way like a little girl!
But the next drama is getting out the water … because some idiot has removed the swim ladder! I think about swimming to the next boat but first I should at least try to get out by myself. I imagine I’m 18 again, with the mind and strength of an Oxo. Not sure if it was that thought, or the thought of the Barracuda’s rows of shiny teeth, but either way I managed the strength to lift myself up onto the swim platform that is about 60cm above the water. The little voice was right, after all. The search will commence again tomorrow in daylight.
Back inside I make some food while my heart rate and anger cools down. What job next?

One of the cockpit drain hoses is still original and I’ve been warned by several HR owners to be careful because these pure rubber hoses degrade in time due to the heat of the environment in the engine room. I’ve checked Budget Marine and they have stock of what I need. But first to get the current one off. For sure a job easier said than done. After 10 years, the pipe will likely be welded to the lower hull fitting. And then there is the challenge of access. The top is easily accessible but the bottom is deep in the corner of the engine room, jammed behind the engine. The only possible way to it is through a small hatch under the galley sink. It’s so small that I usually have to squeeze Oana in there to get anything done.
Once I get access I view the situation with my head through the hatch. Maybe it’s not a good idea doing this with the boat in the water. What if I get the hose off and the thru-hull fitting valve leaks. I can’t even do an emergency haul-out from here, the bridge to the lagoon (and boat yards) only opens in the morning. “Come on Glen, you pussy, get on with it!” Says that voice of authority – a voice that should really have a mute button.

To get even the end of my arm to the lower pipe fitting I have to get all the top of my body through this small hatch. So in I go with all tools in hand because there is no easy way to come back out to get a tool I forgot. So I squeeze through and get into position to do the job. Hmmm, “no coming out” and all of a sudden I realize this is actually the case, I can’t get out! There I am 45deg from totally upside down, with the hatch feeling tight around my waist and no apparent way to maneuver my arms to push myself back out. The job itself is quickly forgotten. Instead my mind turns to the film (“270 hours”?) where the guy has his arm trapped, alone in the Arizona desert and eventually cuts his own arm off to get free. Then I count how many hours till Oana gets back. Hmm, I’d be pretty smelly by then!
After the initial panic subsides I start to think straight. It’s a real unnerving feeling trying to wiggle this way then that way and still not making progress to freedom. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a feeling of physical entrapment since I went pot-holing as a teenager and got stuck underground. But then the leader was there and he managed to pull my head torch battery to one side which freed my body. I never went pot-holing ever again! … till now 🙂
That thought really didn’t help my panicky situation here! I continue my struggle with heart rate now pounding in the chest and blood rushing to my head. After what seems an age (but likely only 10 minutes or so) I eventually discover that if I force my legs open in the galley corridor, my thighs push against the galley cupboards and I move an inch or 2 upwards. Just enough for my elbow to now gain access between the many pipes allowing one arm some slight leverage. Then with some major wiggling I mange to inch my way back out again to freedom. What a feeling of utter relief 🙂 Enough of this job. This one is postponed … indefinitely. Even sinking is better than entrapment.

In movies, I should now have a large shot of whisky, quickly follow by a second. But being British we do the same with a nice cup of tea. If ever there is a nasty situation: put the kettle on and make a brew, that’s what we English do!

Heart beat back to normal I decide to have a shower and an early night while I’m still alive. But when getting my towel I see the new perspex panel waiting patiently to be fitted to the navstation. Surely I can’t hurt myself preparing to install this panel? So the shower gets postponed.

When we did a refit in 2017 we had to modify the nav-station panel. This meant cutting out a section of the original and replacing it with new instrument holes. Trouble is, the replacement perspex we got has glossy surface where as the original from HR was a matte grey. So it doesn’t look professional. Since then I found the company that made the original panel and had them send me a piece of perspex that matches the original perfectly.
So the Mastervolt Easyview 5 and the generator controls are removed and the rouge panel taken out. While I’m there I wire in the new Easyview5 that I bought as back up, and get it programmed. Great, it works perfectly. I’ll put the original as the backup in the spares stowage. For the rest of the evening I carefully mark out the new panel ready to cut holes for the removed instruments. I only have just one piece of new perspex panel, so my rule of “measure twice cut once” must be enforced. After marking it all out I decide to measure and check again in the morning. And do the cutting tomorrow. Today is clearly not a good day for any more physical activities, especially with potentially dangerous tools.
So I go to bed and ease into sleep thinking how wonderfully more comfortable the bed is than sleeping upside down in a hole half in half out of the engine room, or sharing it with a hungry Barracuda!