Indian Summer Boat Blog

This weekend, I will attack my boat with a gauge and some epoxy.  I need to chip out the rotted wood in the transom well then infiltrate it with epoxy.  Throughout this entire experience I need to chant to myself "Less is more, less is more, less is more" so that the boat doesn’t wind up looking like the surfboard I tried to repair.  The repaired region has a nasty tendency to sink.  On the positive, if a shark ever bites that spot it’ll lose all its teeth.

<—  That’s the area I need to rip out and repair.  Its important because its where the engine is supposed to attach.

Today, my boss showed me how to splice 3-strand ropes to make nice dock lines.  Its really gratifying to be create something that looks so complex.  So I hope you will all appreciate your Christmas gifts this year and the hard work that went into them.

I’m also going to wax the hull between the waterline and the deck on Sunday.  Apparently, that helps protect the gelcoat when you run into the dock.

Anyone local want to hang out and help me with all this on Sunday?  I hear you get a great buzz off of epoxy fumes.

Really.  My boat loves me.  Everything she does to me is because she loves me.  Its my fault, I shouldn’t have made her angry.

My boat and I have an abusive relationship.  That is, I get beaten up.  A lot.

So far I’ve had lots of bruises.

A mashed fingernail.

And a broken toe (no photo).

But I know that its all because Indian Summer loves me.

The main reason these things happen is because of this motor.  Its older than I am and sneers at me a lot.   

I have to lift it out of a wierd well at the back of the boat

and its a little too big for it and weighs about 100 lbs.  Once,

I fell down the stairs backwards with it.  Ouch.

This one needs some explanation.  I had the fortune to meet some really good instructors at SEA (like John Paul, Pei, Stephanie) however, there are some others.  I received the following email this morning and burst out laughing due to the implication of shared blame among SEA members for gaining "a bad rap."  I think the fellow who sent out the email is probably personally responsible for it.  This is the guy who twice (TWICE!!!) purposely wrapped a string of dinghies under tow around a channel marker, on my first day in a class too set course directly at a moored boat and didn’t turn off until we were 3 feet from hitting (his explanation was that he wanted to show us how manouverable the boats were),  sets up something called the Channel of Doom among the moored boats and expects students with 2 days of experience to avoid hitting things, and repeatedly boasts that he’s had his motorcycle license taken away 6 times in one state.  A clear and responsible thinker this fellow is not, but he is who they have running the show.  So, he sent the following email.  I laughed.

Dear fellow Instructors,
There is something I need to tell you so I just will.
We are making a new policy as far as sailing through
the moorings, and that is "No students or novices are
to sail through the moorings". We are getting a bad
rap so we’re nipping this in the bud. But Johnathon
Ganz added "unless absolutely necessary". This also
includes all open sails.
Well that’s it. Thanks for listening. Wayne

This is San Francisco from the Bay.

There’s a giant bow and arrow stuck into the ground.

… In for $2000.

When I bought my boat, I knew there were a few things it needed.  Namely, new sails.  However, I priced those and found them to be not too bad.  I also knew I’d want some new PFDs and various odds and ends.

What I did not take into consideration is that I am a Henschel.  What does that mean?  We are morally opposed to buying anything new, and we don’t believe there is anyone out there more capable than ourselves.  Its a bad mix.  My dad has had motor boats with outboard motors as long as I can remember.  And pretty much every time we ever went out in Narragansett or Casco Bay, the motor would break.  So Dad would jury rig it and we would limp home with him hitting the motor with a hammer every 5 minutes just to let it know who was in charge.  Unfortunately, I inherited the buy-old bit without learning how to fix it (although I can hit pretty hard with a hammer).

My baby came with an old Mercury 7.5 HP, kind of a vintage flair.  Turns out vintage isn’t good when it comes to engines.  The twink I bought the boat from admitted he knew nothing about engines and hadn’t touched it, but insisted it was very reliable.  Maybe it was until I fell down the stairs with it.  That couldn’t have been good for it.

Its kind of an awkward set up to begin with - there’s a built-in well at the stern with a small hole for the engine to clamp on with the prop in the water.  When not in use, I have to lift the motor entirely out since the well is too small to tilt the engine forward.  All this lifting and man-handling leads to things like falling down the cabin stairs with it, ripping the fuel line, pulling muscles in my back, who knows what else.  But its what I have right now.

So I was on a sail with 3 guests.  It was kind of stressful as they didn’t know much about sailing.  The wind was pretty stiff (25 knots or so) so we were really heeled over and when we tacked, the engine came loose.  We came really close to losing it, but not quite.  So I tried to steer the most level course I could while Carlos and Caroline tried to get it out of the water and back into place as well as find a way to wedge the gas tank (which had also come loose) into place.  They eventually succeeded and we figured that the reason we smelled so much gas was that the tank had tipped over and spilled some through the vent.  We cleaned it up and sailed on, checking it frequently to make sure it wasn’t loose.

We get to the harbor entrance.  The harbor is due West and 99.9% of the time the wind is from the West.  Technically, I’m not even allowed to try to sail in but must come in under motor.  In other words, you need a motor to get back to berth.  So, I started the motor up and once it was in gear told my crew to drop the sails.  They got them down, but the main got really tangled (not sure what happened).  Then I realized that I couldn’t make any headway against the wind.  I could go side to side, but not into the wind where I needed to go.  The wind would die slightly, I would point up, then the wind would pick up and push me away.  I realized that I couldn’t get any power to the motor.  It was either on or off, no fine tuning.  Did I mention I don’t know anything about motors?

Things got a little stressful at this point.  The crew couldn’t get the main up.  It got more and more fouled.  I didn’t think putting the jib up would help us in trying to go upwind.  So, I did what every resourceful skipper does - I called for a tow.  I called on a cell phone because this was when I found out that my VHF radio wasn’t working.  It did when we left the dock, but not anymore.  BoatUS couldn’t understand why I didn’t just put up my main and sail into the harbor.  They clearly aren’t staffed by sailors.  Eventually, decided the best course of action was to put down anchor and wait for the tow.  Got the anchor out, attached a line, put it down successfully, then realized I shouldn’t have attached it to the stern - the bow would be a better option.  Scrambling all over I got it reattached at the front and the Indian Summer swung gently into the breeze. 

Once the tow boat got there it took all of 10 minutes to get us back into the harbor and tied up at a dock.  Plus $300.

Yup.  $300.

But the next day, the harbor patrol towed my baby back to her berth and that night a local mechanic came over to give his opinion on the engine.  His overall opinion "Take it to an outboard specialist and if he says to throw it out - throw it out."

Here’s what the non-specialist found wrong in the first 10 minutes:

1. ripped fuel line   
2. cracked spark plug
3. mismatched spark plugs
4. all original wires
5. all original lines
6. drill bit used as part of the clamp

Its not pretty.  I’m looking for a new engine.

I had a hissy fit.  Now I know that must surprise anyone who knows me, because I am the most even keeled individual around, but there you have it.

I got really pissed off.  I was sailing with SEA, a volunteer sailing/teaching organization, and several people did some really really stupid things (including me - I’ll admit it - I’ll diagram some of the stupid things some other time.) and my response was "Fuck you all, I’m buying my own damn boat." 

Three months later, I did.  It wasn’t really that surprising.  I mean, the reason I had joined SEA was that I’ve wanted a boat since I new what they were and loved sailing since I first stepped foot on a boat at age 4.  Just never had much opportunity to pursue it till now.  But now, I realize I have some disposable income, so why not dispose of it?  Why wait till I’m old and decrepit?

First, I had to look at boats.  At first I was obsessed with Ranger 27s.  They seemed to be what I wanted.  Good sized, stable, cheap, solid, good overnighter, but not too big or complex.  Definitely not a racer.  Then I thought about the Cheoy Lee Frisco Flyer.  What pulled me towards those was the beauty.  They have CARVED DRAGONS inside!!!!!  It was hard to resist but eventually I realized that carved dragons are a really lousy reason to buy a boat.  I looked at some others (Bristols, Merits, thought about J24s) then saw a picture of the Indian Summer, went down to look at her basically for comparison.  I had seen a Coronado 23 and didn’t like its design, so don’t really know why I went, but then it was love at first sight.  Clouds parted, angels sang, you know the drill.

I stopped hyperventilating long enough to buy it.  Didn’t sleep for a week, panicking over "Oh my God, what have I done!  Miz Scarlett, I don’t know nothing bout no berthin’s!"

Several people kindly talked me into spending lots of money on it - Janel and Aaron poured Sake down my throat until I no longer felt the panic.  Ben Sones convinced me that it really wasn’t that much money and told me that he frequently spent money he didn’t have on stuff he didn’t need.  Sideshow Ian promised to come sailing and help me find new sails cheaply (oh yeah, did I mention she needs new sails?).  This was all really helpful.  So was the Prozac.

The "oh my god what have I done?!" reached a crescendo the night I handed over the check and received the title.  All of a sudden, I owned a boat.  And had no idea what to do with it.  I had to get insurance (but which type - the type that covers minutiae and takes 3 months to arrange or the type that I’m not sure even applies to my boat but works if I hit someone with it), a place to keep it within 48 hours, registration (AAARRGGHHH Not the DMV!), safety equipment, crew to sail it, rain to hold off, HOLY SHIT I CAN’T DO THIS!!!!!

Luckily, there is a very nice harbormaster at the marina a mile from where I work.  He recommended which insurance company to use, told me what type I needed (the cheap and easy kind), told me the order to do things (boat - insurance - berth - registration) and was really sweet.  Crisis averted.

Two days later, Saturday, with the help of Caroline "I’ve sailed everything from a Sunfish to a 50 foot yacht" and Jeff "Is the boat supposed to tip like this?" we sailed out of the Redwood City slough and up the Bay to Oyster Point.  It was great - uneventful!!!!  Amazing how important that is.  A beautiful beautiful sail.  Clouds and slight showers early on, which cleared, then good winds all the way.  We got safely to dock and suddenly it was all real and good.

I have a boat.  And I can’t stop smiling.