At the beginning of May, Spain began to move in baby steps towards the easing of the Corona virus lockdown restrictions we’d lived with since the 14th March. There would be phases, with each one lasting two weeks. Phase 0 brought some limited mobility – a chance to get out and exercise beyond the confines of your home, although with fixed time periods in which this could be done. There was talk of being able to go sailing again in phase 1, limited at first to 12nm from base, then later to within the home province. If all went well and infection numbers fell, June might bring the ability to sail beyond our province. Glimmers of hope blossomed within us as we felt able to make tentative plans.
These changes in fortune gave us some much needed drive to get the boat ready for departure. We’d put the foresails back on at the start of lockdown, but very little had happened since – without knowing how long the restrictions would last, it was likely all those cleaning jobs that needed doing would only need doing again and hey, who stole all my motivation?
So, with new found fervour we set about sewing, deep cleaning from bow to stern and sorting out the stowage in the forepeak. The job list was long, with more outdoor items than in, such as cleaning, repairing and waterproofing the three sections of the cockpit enclosure. However, the weather wasn’t on our side. The unsettled spring kept on delivering rain and wind that limited what we could do. Frustrating.
We also needed the weather on our side for our departure day – zero or a very light wind was essential for us to leave our tight berth safely.
Lockdown relaxation, weather and jobs – the trinity came together on Wednesday 20th May. We were up early to finish off the preparations; by 10am we were ready to go. Anxiously watching the flags for any sign of movement, our wind speed showing 2kts, this was the moment. The shore lines were cast off and Emerald’s nose pushed slowly forward. With a signal, the marineros RIB nudged her bow around – the fairway space was far too narrow for us to make the turn under our own power – and with zero drama we left the marina.
Out beyond the breakwater walls, a small swell met us on the nose. My stomach gave a little lurch, but soon settled. With the cargo of barnacles we were carrying on the hull, our SOG (speed over ground) was under par. The depth gauge showed zero meters, most likely one of those pesky barnacles.
So, there are few wrinkles to iron out, but this was it. After eight months in the marina, including 10 very long weeks of lockdown, we were finally on the move, two months later than when we’d planned to.
With Emerald’s bow gently dipping and rising in the low swell, blue sky above and barely a ripple on the water, we motored 8nm west of the marina to our first anchorage under the lee of Cabo Tinoso. The crew of an anchored cargo ship gave us an exuberant wave as we passed by. It felt so good to be free. The anchor chain ran out smoothly when required (we were worried it might have stuck together being piled in the anchor locker for eight months), the engine was silenced and we had the chance to sit back and appreciate our first step towards freedom.
Alas, we couldn’t spend too long reflecting as Emerald’s needs were calling to us.
The First Thing to Break
First up was putting our anchorage transport together. The dinghy was launched, inflated and the 4hp Yamaha outboard attached. Next, fire up the engine. Colin pulled and pulled on the starter cord, it finally caught, then instantly died. A blocked carburettor the most likely suspect, it’s happened many times before, despite how well we flush the engine through. It was now late in the afternoon, so carb cleaning would have to wait to tomorrow.
The next morning, having enjoyed a deep sleep on anchor, Colin got on with disassembling and cleaning the carb. Several lumps of ‘stuff’ were removed from the tiny jets and reassembly began.
Second attempt to start – pull, pull, pull on the starter cord. Full marks for perseverance to Colin whilst I hid anxiously inside. He kept on pulling, I worried he’d wrench a shoulder, then the roar as it fired split the peace of the anchorage and sparked some hope in us. It ran for a little longer this time, but too soon, silence returned. I felt dispondent – the loss of our ‘taxi’ would not be a good start to the season. Colin wanted to buy a can of ‘Start Ya Bastard’. Yes, there really is a product called this. Off came the carburettor again: disassemble, clean, reassemble. He’s getting good at this.
Guess what? Same again. Perhaps third time lucky? We had a party to go to, so again, it would have to wait until tomorrow.
For the third attempt we reviewed some YouTube videos, maybe there was something we’d missed? Disassemble, clean: one suggested squirting air through the valves, so we tried using contact cleaner. There was also a tiny tube we’d missed, which also got the squirt treatment. Reassemble. Cross everything you have. I hid below again so I could hide my disappointment if it didn’t fire as this was really the last hope. I could hear the cord being pulled, once, twice: we have ignition! Trying not to get too excited – we’d been at this point before – but it kept on going, revving up and down as Colin tested the throttle. I rushed outside, helped cast him off for a victory lap (not too far, it might cut out again) and watched as he made several laps.
Fix number one complete.
The Second Thing to Break
Next was the watermaker. This was our fifth season with our Katadyn PowerSurvivor 80, each year having brought some problem to be fixed. During the last two year’s it had started tripping as if there was a power surge. We discovered a suspect thermocouple which we’d managed to coax to work for the duration of the season.
The watermaker has a prime cycle that must be run to flush out the pickling chemicals used when we put it into storage mode for the winter. This cycle ran fine for the required time of thirty minutes, so we switched it over to run. When making clean water, the unit is working hard, pulling in sea water and forcing it through the two membranes. It ran for 3 or 4 minutes, then cut out. That dodgy thermocouple!
Cushions were removed, seat bases unscrewed and the watermaker outer box lifted off. In the not easy to access space we assessed for any damage – the thermocouple was looking very corroded and there was also a small puddle of salty water under the pump unit. The leak was traced to a weeping fitting on the high pressure side of the pump; unfortunately in the process of removing it a plastic t-piece snapped. The saloon of the boat looked like a hurricane had ripped through as lockers were emptied in the search for a suitable replacement part. No exact t-piece was found, however one almost perfect was and we set about making it perfect. It was also a hot day, not ideal for working inside.
We decided to remove the thermocouple and with all leaks repaired, put everything back together and started up the watermaker. It started ok, it kept on running beyond 5 minutes and there were no leaks. As we have a breaker on the main watermaker on/off switch, the loss of the thermocouple shouldn’t be an issue. An hour later and it was still running. Fix number two complete.
The Third Thing to Break
You’d think two major items on the boat requiring repair would be enough. But now the fridge started playing up. We’d had no issues with it over the winter and had defrosted it in November. Usually, it cycles on and off throughout the day; the compressor runs until the low point is reached, switches off and the fridge box gradually warms up. When the set high point is reached the compressor turns on. A week into our freedom and it was struggling to reach anywhere near it’s usual low setting.
We reviewed the symptoms and considered there could be an electrical issue – it only seemed to have this problem when there were other drains on the power. Colin rewired the main power supply and changed the breaker and we tried it again. Same issue. We could fettle it along with freezer blocks and move some items into the freezer, but it would be a long summer without a working fridge. Obviously getting it repaired was a possibility but this meant a return to the marina and by leaving we’d forfeited the low rates we’d paid during lock down. A financial conundrum.
We turned the fridge off overnight so as not to overly drain the house batteries. The next morning, it was switched on and we watched the temperature fall, one degree, then another. The next one was higher. Not good. We turned it off, left it fifteen minutes, tried again. Watched the temperature fall, and fall, and fall. It had reached the low point by early evening. Not wanting to risk the batteries we turned it off overnight. Each day we repeat the morning ritual – turn it on and off a few times and generally by the third attempt it runs normally. Strange, but we’ll take it for the next few months.
Not really fixed, but liveable with.
The Fourth Thing to Break
Three summers ago we bought a second hand swim platform which we attached to Emerald’s stern the following winter. It made going for a swim much easier, especially as we could now get out of the water without having to launch the dinghy. Whilst working on the outboard, Colin had noticed the tubes on the steps were bending backwards. The stainless tube was too thin to take the pressure as the steps pressed against a block of wood which prevents them folding up when standing on a step.
We pondered how to fix them – amongst our stash of stuff are various lengths of stainless tube, and we had enough that could be cut and put inside the tube legs to strengthen them up.
But we had to get the reinforcement in there and remove the crease which had formed. One of those times where hitting it with a hammer was the best solution!
Cruising and Fixing Things on a Budget
It had been a particularly gnarly start to the season in terms of things needing fixing. When living on a tight budget, any breakage can be a drain on our finances, especially when they occur outside the winter time in a marina. We’re lucky to be practical people, however the fridge pushed us to the limits of what we can do without specialist equipment. We’re hoarders too with the storage space to carry a good number of spares – you never know when some strange sniblet or off cut of pipe will come in useful as proven with the boarding ladder legs.
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