We had planned only a quick stopover in Dinner Key as we made our way north. We reluctantly prepared to leave, turned the engine key, and again were rewarded with the sound of silence. I poked around for a few minutes, but given that we had just replaced the starter and the battery I was quickly at a loss. I did find this one wire near the starter that was loose, but I couldn't for the life of me find where it went, even though that had to be within six inches of where I found it. Or maybe it was made redundant with the new starter.
As usual, it was a weekend. I asked at the office and they gave me a name of a guy in the mooring field. He was no longer doing boat work on the side, given a day job and a new baby. He referred me to another gentleman who was out in an hour or so, but quickly ascertained that he didn't know what the problem was. We started cold calling businesses but it was the weekend and nobody was answering.
Down the dock strolled an older gentleman rocking a pair of blindingly white jeans, Hawaiian shirt, mirrored sunglasses and the kind of hat hipsters had taken to wearing. I had the feeling he had been wearing one since the 50s. He was walking a bulldog with one hand, and had a poorly disguised beer in a paper bag in the other. We had seen him several times and exchanged pleasantries. He asked what the problem was. It turns out his name is Armando.
He listened patiently to my tale of woe, then he explained that he managed 19 boats here while living on his own. Once I explained that I thought it was an electrical problem, he recommended a gentleman named Carlos. Carlos arrived a couple hours later, on a Sunday, because he was already visiting a boat a couple down from us. Out came the multimeter and he traced the electrical path from the battery to the switch at the binnacle and back to the engine. He opened areas on the boat I had never seen before. After about 45 minutes of that he crawled under the engine and told us to try and start it. It turned right over.
Satisfied that he had found the problem, he explained that the loose wire was indeed from the starter. There was a coolant hose just above the starter that might not be OEM, and it seemed intent on occupying some of the same space as the starter, which was definitely not OEM. The conflict could be coming from the hose, the starter, or a combination of the two. Regardless of cause, vibrations from the hose were being transmitted to the top of the starter. Soldered to the top of the starter was a spade connector which you could now only see if your head was on the floor looking up. Sure enough, inside the connector at the end of the errant wire was the spade which had fatigued off.
After expressing some reservations Carlos trimmed the end of the hose so he could hike it up and get some air between it and the starter. He managed to do that without even removing the hose (and having to drain the fresh water coolant). Next he soldered a wire to the pad where the spade connector had been, and connected a new spade to the end of his wire. The two were connected and we were in business again - except.
Carlos observed that our raw water pump was leaking. It had had a minor leak out of the appropriately named weep hole for some time, probably since we had bought the boat, but it seemed that the rate was increasing. There was salt on adjoining areas. Carlos explained that while he would return to port with such a pump, he would not leave.
We decided it was time, and he was able to get a new Westerbeke pump in the morning. His assistant George installed it as I watched. I'm not just looking to have the boat fixed, but continuing education as well. It was a smooth, easy job to swap out. So easy that I thought I could do it next time. This turned out to be important. I wrapped up the old pump so it could be rebuilt and become a spare. The new pump spun and pumped with nary a leak.
By this time a Monday departure was shot, so we paid for another night and set our sights on Tuesday. Next stop Ft. Lauderdale.
sv-hiatus.blogspot.com
No comments:
Post a Comment