Pensacola Saturday 8.13 / Day 1

Saturday Day 1.  8/13^th  2016

I got up early to the extreme surprise and delight of clear bright skies and 74 degrees.  I had slept with the hatches open expecting rain at any time during the night.  But, for now it’s sunny and the heat is going to build…  (it’s 80 now and feels like 85)

I met a local guy and he informed me there is a grocery nearby – gave 5 minute directions to it, like a drunk trying to decipher his own whereabouts.  In addition, there is a laundry in the same strip mall.  I’m going to unload the bike and go on a scouting mission to see if it’s a cab, bike, or walk.    (or if it’s even really there)

I need to do laundry, get food and find a marina store for boat stuff.  If  (“IF”) I can manage a nap, then everybody wins!  Last night the empty outside bar from the other night was packed to standing room only with a live band on the deck behind me.  I have no idea how long they played but it looked like they were having fun.  Sounded like it.  It didn’t keep me awake as nothing could have.

Gonna run now and try to beat the next rains as they will also surely come before I’m ready.

REPORT:  it was real and i did a real big pile of laundry, bought some groceries and 2 big monster bags of ice via Uber.  Even made it back to the boat before the rains started again for the afternoon. Even worked in a great nap in the cockpit breeze.  Ahhhhhh the life!

Bike Pirate Skip

Pensacola FL

Our crossing was uneventful till the steering died.  We left Kemah Sunday morning 8/7^th about 9am and all systems were functioning as expected.  Our first five hours under motor out through Galveston and through the ship parking area was fine.  (some of my stuff was flying around down below because I didn’t have it secured properly but that’s not equipment failure, that’s being stupid.)  That entire night we motor sailed on our charted course toward Pensacola with no problem.  We ate, drank and were merry.  Dave caught a fish and we ate it.  It was all good.

It was Monday afternoon about 3pm when Dave was at the helm, Craig had just fallen asleep in the salon and then we lost steerage.  As we came to the entrance to New Orleans and the ship channel of the mighty Mississippi, the Garmin auto pilot blew off a hydraulic hose.  Imagine seeing massive ships lined up – spaced out – following each other up the river and we have to dash across the ship channel between them.  There is about a mile between the ships so we plan to come along directly behind a ship and cross the lane before the next vessel comes.  (we go 6 knots and they are going 11 knots, there is a mile between them)  We ease out into the ship channel and are preparing to ‘drive’ directly toward the rear of the lead ship.  Then Dave looks at me and says, “I cant get it to turn.”  So I grab the wheel and turn it too.  (like I’m magic and can do it)  The wheel just spins and spins.  The boat is going wherever it wants to.  (my fear is that it wants to commit suicide in front of the next approaching tanker vessel.)  Fortunately I have some shut off valves down below deck which separate the steering from the auto pilot allowing you to manually steer.  I run below deck and turn those valves and we crawl back onto our side of the ship channel to lick our wounds.  Craig is thrown from his bunk by the huge waves and comes up to the cockpit, while Dave and I go below to set up manual steering while we try to fix the auto pilot.

This takes hours and many tries to reattach the hose.  (think bent copper compression fitting and slippery rubber hose, combined with lots of leaked fluid)  We finally used a punch and hammer to expand the brass hose fitting enough to allow us to properly seat the plastic hose and apply great pressure via the compression fitting.

Yippee it worked.  Till the next night.  Tuesday night Craig had the 9p-12a shift and I followed him.  All went perfectly from Midnight till about 2:34AM when all of a sudden the boat starts making a big U turn.  I knew instantly what it was and ran below to turn the 3 valves closed before it blew all the Hydraulic out and we lost steering again.  (in a VERY unusual show of ‘smarts’ we had left the mattress off the aft birth – so we could access the valves in an emergency and this may have saved us?)  Now we are back to hand steering the boat.  I woke Dave and asked him to help me, see if we could fix it again.  “Can we ‘Jerry Rig’ this thing again?”  (note:  Dave’s face when I woke him and told him the auto pilot had died again was the second saddest thing I’ve seen on this trip)  Our plan was to ‘bleed’ the line and get better control of the vessel.  When a hose blows it loses compression in all the system, plus volume in fluid.  The end result is the wheel gets really really loose and difficult to make the tiller turn the boat.  Our routine was to fill the hydraulic reservoir and pump up some pressure via a bicycle pump.  Then you turn the wheel one direction and then the other.  Eventually it takes fewer and fewer turns to make the tiller cross over.  (like starting from 20 turns down to only taking 6)  *NOW it gets good – finally.  Dave ‘loosens’ the top brass head of the valve.  (we read later that this is the part you are not supposed to touch)  this allows air bubbles and fluid to escape and the firming up process quickens somewhat.  UNLESS dave turns the brass thing too far and it flies apart.  (imagine opening the back of a watch and all the parts flying out)  He lost some parts when it flew out, but was not certain which ones or how many.  I was there watching when he dropped a ball bearing and heard it bounce down into the bilge.  This caused the other sad face.  But the saddest face was when I had to wake Craig and tell him Dave and I had lost all steerage of the vessel.  (we could not steer the boat anymore)  Craig’s face was the saddest thing.  We had to call the Coast Guard and let them know we were adrift at sea. (about to drift into the ship channel for Mobile bay.  The ‘ship highway’ for boats entering / leaving Mobile.)

Next we dug out the emergency tiller and hooked that up so we could gain some steerage and not be just a bobbing cork. (note the screw driver jammed down into its top for holding)  Poor ‘asleep’ Craig had to sit out on the deck while Dave and I went below to try and fix the steerage….     (insert crazy Alfred Hitchcock music here)  Dave and I are face down in the bilge trying to find only God knows what.  The smell of hydraulic fluid was so strong that I threw up.  We went back to searching.  Then we gave up.  I recall seeing Dave with his finger jammed down into the valve, buried to the second knuckle and fluid was spraying out with each turn of the tiller.  It was dripping down off the ceiling and running down the wall.  Dave was looking pretty defeated at this point.  Then we made the decision to Heave to.  To ‘back the sail’ and just drift.  This would allow us to concentrate on fixing steerage and smooth out the motion of the boat.  We did just this and about this time a storm blew in.  Winds of 30+ knots and torrential rain.

As it turns out we were drifting exactly toward Pensacola at 3knots of speed.  We had a team meeting and decided we would continue on course toward our goal and we would fix the steering valve.  (at this point we are about 50 miles from Pensacola)  We pulled the valve out and brought it up into a work area, (so we would not lose more parts) removed the other side to determine all the parts and how it goes together.  Then realized exactly what we were missing.  *kudos:  Craig suggested tearing up a Harken block to get the ball bearings out and use them.  We got the spring from my pen.

After re-assembly with these ‘non factory issued parts’ it worked.  Not quite perfect, but perfect enough.  We were able to hand steer at the helm and not use the emergency tiller.  The auto pilot was still dead, but we could steer.  That makes you feel a lot better when you are nearing other ship traffic, land, bridges and rocks.  I don’t have the exact time we got steerage back, but it was about 4pm when Dave yelled out, “Land Ho!”  We anchored and slept like the dead.  Even Craig got to sleep without someone waking him up.

The next day we did some repairs and pulled anchor, motoring over to ‘Fish House’ where I still am.  This was a marina but it was damaged in some past hurricane has not been occupied.  So I’m all alone out here tied to the pier.  So Far, knock wood, I’m unmolested and nobody has run me off.  I’ve ordered a NEW valve, which I will affectional name Dave and it should arrive Monday or Tuesday.  Once that is installed and I’m not trying to steer with a Bic Pen spring I’ll plan to move down the coast to Destin…    Retired and living the dream.   (I didn’t realize till now how easy ‘work’ was!)

I hope YOU are enjoying your adventures wherever you are.      -Pirate Skip