Tue 18 May, HHN day 35: An interesting dream, then painting, epoxying, and as a bonus an excursion with an Ural motorbike – in a sidecar! I guess I might have just chosen out next land-toy!
The weirdest thing happened last night. I woke around 3am as usual, but I swear it was the boat making a strained creaking noise that woke me up, and not my usual bladder creaking with strain. I lay there for a moment, and sure enough it creaked again. And… I feel my berth is sloping more to the aft than usual.
Then it hits me, like a lightning bolt. I know what’s happening (and being a geologist how could I be so stupid not to have thought about this before). Soft clay will move over time when under pressure. The blue clay in my rudder hole has closed in on the rudder and the aft boat stands are sinking into the pit!
As I run to the hatch, I’m even more convinced the boat has a greater slope aft.
The only way to really see will be to go outside and look at the boat stands at the bow. If the stern is sinking, the bow will be lifting off its stand. Down the ladder I go and into the cold. I’m so convinced about this that I’m actually surprised when I see the boat still happily on its bow stand, just as normal.
Then, all of a sudden I feel stupid. Just what is wrong with my brain to have conjured up such a scenario? Am I feeling that guilty about digging the hole in the yard? How weird. There and then I swear I won’t tell a soul about this. So please, this is for your eyes only. Please don’t tell anyone else 😊.
Normally, I cannot remember my dreams, even if I wake seconds after having one. But this morning I could remember very well my silly 3am episode and I have quite a giggle. Oana too, when I tell her.
Anyway, back to business. This blog is not about my psychiatric problems, it’s about boat maintenance.
I have reached a decision on my game plan with the rudder bearing. JP3 won’t be getting my money for a new housing after all. I have some O-rings ordered and I have a plan. It will all come together later in the week when McMasterCarr deliver them to me. But still lots to do in preparation.
First, I sand down the top of the rudder and the area around where the rudder exits the boat. I sand back to the gel coat, ready to apply Interprotect barrier coat. I also sand around the bow thrusters where I had epoxy filled some holes, which also need barrier coat.
And for the sanding I break into the goodies box and I try out my new battery powered Makita orbital sander. Boy, am I ever happy with it! It’s tiny, fits in the palm of my hand, but is it ever powerful. A nice addition to my LXT 18vdc set to tools.
However, for the area around the rudder trunk I wet sand, because I don’t want antifoul dust getting sucked inside the boat. I’ve got enough allergy problems in there already without the addition of MicronExtra particles! I can tell you it’s not pleasant wet sanding above your head, whith antifoul water running down your arms and into your underwear. It gives me the blues for the rest of the day, until shower time.
Now the hunt for the Interprotect barrier paint. Where did I stow it? Oana’s stowage list comes up trumps yet again: 1 Gallon opened tin in the bow bilge, 1 qtr catalyst in the cockpit locker paint box.
Once I get inside the cockpit locker (I can just about fit in there) I also find a tin of sound-deadening paint which I bought 2 years ago, but never applied. The plan was to try it inside the aft compartment where we frequently get wave-lapping noise, right next to our berth. The paint’s label says it goes out of date in 2 months. Well, maybe today is the day I use it.
So for the next couple of hours I’m cleaning, then painting, in this hopelessly cramped of spaces. It is essentially the void between the floor of the aft deck locker and the hull skin.
From under the aft berth there is a hole that I can just about squeeze through, but it is so small that I can only go in on my front or my back. There is no turning around once ½ way through said hole!
Now I remember why I kept putting off applying this paint! It’s one of those jobs where you REALLY have to be in the maintenance groove. There is quite a drama in there, but eventually I do get more of the paint on the inside of the hull than on me.
Unfortunately, you have to build up thickness for effective sound proofing. So there will be more Houdini torture in the coming days, to add layers.
After that little side track, I’m back to important things. I apply epoxy to the rudder bearing housing to fill in all the galvanic holes. Then mix up some Interprotect, and paint around the bow thrust tube, top of rudder, rudder trunk and inside where the rudder bearing sits.
All this while, my new mast buddy, James, has been working on his mast near to me. And this time he has arrived in his Ural motorbike with side car. Few days ago he had promised me a ride, and midafternoon he honored that promise.
I’ve always fancied having a motorbike with side car. And I know Oana would love it. The Ural is a Russian made bike, essentially copied from the Wehrmacht WW2 motorbike and side car, and produced continually since that era, with some improvements.
It’s quite a machine. Built for off road adventure, it has 2-wheel drive option (with no differential!), reverse gear, towing winch, tow hitch for a trailer and lots of other interesting features. The engine is 750cc classic BMW style, flat-2-cylinder. Only 50HP, but lots of torque.
So into the sidecar I hop and off we go. The yard is a pretty rough surface, but the suspension in the side car is incredible. So smooth. We go down a few country lanes and I feel like Wallace and Grommet (but without the goggles!).
Then James stops and we swap positions. This is new for both of us, because he has never ridden in his own side car before! The clutch and controls feel like they came from a T34 tank, but I’m instantly taken with it. I LOVE IT! It would be so very perfect for Romanian roads, which often turn from highway smooth to rough dirt without any warning. Especially in the mountains. I attach a picture of Oana & I riding our own Ural, sometime in the future 😊
In the evening, I start the boom as the sun is dropping into the trees. But I don’t get very far because the no-see-ums are out (tiny-wheeny bitey insects).
So that’s it, the pleasant maintenance season is coming to an end. There will soon be high temperatures and mosquitos. Just in time for a sharp exit, back to Bucharest. I may even get roasted before that. The forecast for the coming days is in the low 30s (90s degF). I have purposefully reserved inside jobs for those days.
