Great Barrier Island escapades

Posted on June 27, 2011 by Colin Lowe

Escapades Fitzroy Harbour Great Barrier Island.

Smoking Fish.

There was a run on fishing until early June when they stopped biting. Breakfast routine would have the rod set out the back on bait runner mode and a bit of kahawhai on the hook.  Dusk another good time. A buzzing reel and I was assured of dinner.   I kid you not, but the Admiral pleaded me to stop fishing so we could have a variation in our saturation fish diet.   Talk about the Israeli fish diet. The oily kahawhai was sent to the bait jar for reincarnation (or ingestion by) into snapper.  Bait fish was cut into pieces,  dried in sun for several hours then cut and put in jar with plenty of salt.

Jade Moana and Mary C

Smoking in Smokehouse Bay was our favourite and offered a real difference in fish taste.  No denying this.  The fish was slit in two then salted to drive some moisture out.  After an hour the fish was washed of salt, dried then  the flesh was rubbed in brown sugar. Of course, we had available to us, the best three fish smokers in the world. A small fire cooked the flesh, with skin down, before it was then flipped on the rack so that the flesh faced down and could dry in a lengthy smoking, preferably overnight.  We don’t normally hang a big fish as we are likely to arrive in the morning and find it incinerated in the fire. The brown sugar is optional, but I like the caramelly flavour and enhanced brown colour.  The salting can be left so it preserves the flesh for longer, and also intensifies the flavour. Can you imagine our delight to wake up and row in shore to inspect the night’s smoking?  A collection of golden, richly flavoured golden brown fish that would keep for the next week.  (Ha ha fat chance after tasting the flesh.) Also, we tried smoking some snapper, but these were not so good as the oily type fish.  Great Omega 3’s for our arthritis either way eh?

These days Webster’s Wonderland was better than usual with the facilities renewed several years ago after a slip. The bath is in a modern hut and the wetback is efficient.  Over the 5 weeks we loitered around the area, and at different times we met a dozen or so boats doing the same thing. Met some nice people.  I have heard that it is a completely different story in the height of summer when the bay is carpeted with hundreds of boats and one can almost walk ashore on their decks.

Telecom mobile reception.

Funny, but in 1978 when we first stumbled upon Smokehouse, if you said that we could speak to anyone in the world on a tiny piece of electronics from the boat we would think you mad.  Well, of course it came to pass.  Telecom’s  repeater on Kaikoura Island (it stands like a silent sentinel looking over frustrated Telecom customers, providing emergency traffic only) was not operational all winter, so we hiked up the top of the hill for emails and phone calls, courtesy of the mainland transmitters 30 miles distance.   Next time we will be operating 2° or Vodaphone as Telecom obviously deem dividends for shareholders more important than customer satisfaction.   The spin off was that we had good exercise on the walk.  The site for reception had to have line of sight with the mainland.  Got some great views during conversations with friends and family.  One climb with Jennifer of Doc from Abel Tasman during her kayak journey with friends. Hearsay had it that Telecom maintained the repeater only in summer.

Climb Mt Hobson, Great Barrier Island.

Doc has put some great effort into this crown walk of Barrier.  Now, three fords of stream are avoided by big new swing bridge, so that no more do we have to remove boots three times (yes, we are woosie trampers).  Many other board walks and bridges on way to the kauri dams and summit now.   No more rope rock climbs like we did over 30 years ago. (Yikes!)  Virtually steps all the way to top now, partly to protect nesting birds and also the Kauri trees which in the same time have grown magnificently.

Wild Bird in Bay at Barrier

Wild Bird dries out on piles at Smokehouse.

Doing some bottom inspection at Smokehouse bay while fish fumed

We had to do a bottom, prop and bilge inspection so one perfect winter day we set Wild Bird aground on the Smokehouse Bay grid.

Shag mistakes duck board for shag board. This cormorant (King Shag) was very tame. We had a flock of nesting shags only 30 m away, and were woken by their raucous screeching.  In Waiheke Is, we had a likewise curious duckDuck checks Admiral that clothes are being washed properly. checking out Marion washing our clothes.

Cormorant/shag thinks it is a duck. Inspecting proceedings on WB

Communal hair cut. We had just finished cutting each other’s hair when a cheeky Australian sailor sat down to have his hair cut.  Paid in kind by NZ Herald next day ( a copy thereof).  Now that’s green dollars.

Rain reported to have fallen at Great Barrier. Er hem.  It has, like the Aucklanders are fond of saying, been known to rain here.  Warm and wet as the farmers are commenting about this winter.  Well, we do make great cups of tea these days.  We block the scuppers of the gunwales (to you nautical luddites or maritime ignoramuses, that means blocking run-off of the rainwater) so it fills our water tank.  The dodger top is a rain catcher too, so we are never short of sweet water.  We sterilize it by adding a capful of Janola Bleach to each 400 litres tank.   The proper rate is about 10 drops per 5 litres,  best left for several hours.    We did this all around world when taking on dodgy water, and we never had any trouble.  Pics of Spirit of NZ and NZ navy.

And this was the good day!

Patrolling of coastline. We have been investigated by NZ customs on regular reconnoitering of coastline bays half a dozen times.  They are very vigilant and seem to be interested in voyaging-capable type boats like Wild Bird.  Once in Picton in heavy rain.  Fly-over  by Orion 80 miles off Auckland, once in Fitzroy Harbour.  Fisheries often travel with them.  In large black RIB all decked out in helmets,  heavy uniform and gear.  Looks like they would be able to intercept a determined P smuggler or people smuggler.  A bit like an overseas Swat team that you would see on TV thriller series.  Yes we were thrilled to see them.   Great to see our tax money hard at work.  A bit different to the old wooden Fairmiles  that we used to see cruising the coastline over thirty years ago.  We must be a richer country now.

Current projects. We keep busy cooking all sorts of culinary delights coming out of our ‘new’ oven.  I have made a bait board, finished just as the fish stopped baiting.  It is bolted to the back railing to deflect the slaughtering products off the back.  No fish has had the pleasure of being operated upon this board yet.   I am presently building a new bulkhead extension to take a larger fuse board.  The old one always was too small, and it was difficult to work on.  I am routing 10mm rebate on the old bulkhead then ditto on the new bit, then gluing them together.  I’ll purchase a BEP board some time and install it.

Fridge does bung.

An ominous electrical smell was the start of the problem. Six months ago I installed a Waeco fridge in our well insulated fridge compartment.  It has worked a dream.  However, the sender of the physical temperature sensor (it is a pressure sensor detecting the temperature by working a diaphragm in the control switch) broke. I had it routed through the electrical panel, and in my excitement to finish the job, I had neglected to ensure it was not in contact with wiring.  A short later (melted the sender tube) and I was in the rotten food department.  A bit of noodling and I discovered that a switch to short the temperature dial would enable me to manually turn on the fridge.  OK, where can I purchase a 12 volt thermostat or a replacement temperature sender?

 

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How to amuse yourself on a rainy day.

Posted on May 2, 2011 by Colin Lowe



How to amuse yourself on a rainy day.

Or how I got over contaminated diesel

 

It is raining in the Gulf, as we are at anchor in a bay on the southern side of Waiheke Island.  The Admiral is thinking of making a meatless roast, something I have not had since my birthday just prior to sailing off into rough water around the top of the North Isld some year in the 90’s.  It was not surprising that I saw my dinner twice that night. She can make meatless roasts and I can simply decide what calamity to fix. Gosh darn it, what else would I be doing in the Gulf on a crappy day? Our latest calamity is having dirty fuel tanks.

We have had some issues with diesel  ever since our motor conked out just as we were motorsailing into a stiff northerly outside Wellington.  Stiff was not the word for it.  More like a bloody full on gale. We were on a starboard tack when the motor ground to a halt.  Rather than sail into Island Bay through a narrow rock strewn channel, I chose to have the Admiral tack back and forth in the moderate sea, while I changed tanks and bled air out of the fuel pipes. Looking back, it is now apparent that the tank outlet became blocked when sludge in the bottom of the tank was shifted to the outlet end.

The recent ‘incident off Narrow Neck Beach’ when our motor conked out just as we dropped anchor while fishing with Bro-In-Law was totally unrelated to today’s crisis.  That was a cognitive problem, when we ran out of fuel.  The Admiral argued that it was a cognitive problem specific to me.  Read tanks ran dry.

Recently had I tapped a diesel sample from the drain plug at the bottom of the tank.  Luckily for us, the builder Andrew Wooton made a drain in the right place.  The sample was not a pretty sight.  It was a clumped black mass that filled the bottom of the sample bottle.  Yes, you immediately think diesel bug, the dreaded bacterial infection that grows on a mixture of water and diesel.  The tanks had no inspection plates that we could take off to clean the tank.  One tank was full, the other half full.  What do I do?

Port tank blocked with this gunk, clumped at bottom of bottle. Starboard tank (right) is clean.

Immediate action to solve possible diesel bug.

Firstly, a panic stricken email to our friend Nigel in the UK who had suffered the bug several years ago. He gave me some good ideas.

I dropped crushed mothball into the tank.  Mothball as a biocide is unknown, but a diesel mechanic told me that the naphthalene was an effective biocide against diesel bug.  Not one to spend huge amounts of money on proprietary remedies, I had been treating the tanks regularly this way for years. As back up, I would purchase some commercial fuel treatment.  (Below.)

 

The captain draining the fuel tank for samples.

I took samples from each tank and mixed them with water in a jar before placing in a warm place. Any bacterial infection would grow in the mix.  However, I had treated the water with ‘my’ biocide the day before, so results might be skewed.  If any, it would at least show that the mothballs might be effective, and the sludge was a pile of dead organisms.

 

I got on the blower and ordered two Cor-ten steel plates 450mm X 270mm from a local engineer. I would drill and countersink holes in the plates, and later when I had the chance to empty the tanks, I would cut holes and tap screw holes for 3/16 stainless steel machine screws.  Next day, the local engineer on Waiheke Island had finished two plates for $20 each. Super.

Drilling the holes in tank inspection plate.

 

I also ordered by telephone from Smart Marine, some GrotaMar 71, a biocide manufactured in USA. It had a glowing report in a consumer report made by PBO, several years ago.  As soon as this arrived at the post office, I dosed both tanks both with a cure dose, and in future will be added as prophylactic treatment.  GotoMar 71 is a broad spectrum biocide that would attack various types of infection, and also condition the fuel, including remove residual water.

History of Wild Bird’s diesel tanks.

  • Horror stories of the diesel bug abound in yachting circles, so I had always been careful to treat fuel with  biocide and diesel conditioner.   Each year I drained any bottom water droplets and sludge.  I kept the tanks full to prevent water condensation in the integral steel tanks.  Water is needed to provide nutrition for the ‘bugs’.  Of course we all know that the bugs are microscopic, being algal, fungal or bacterial in nature.
  • Going around the world, it had been difficult to source clean fuel all the time. Once while motoring across the equatorial doldrums through Indonesia, we purchased diesel fuel off fishermen in a village who scooped it from a 44gal drum into our containers.  And so on.
  • I have two pre filters and one primary filter on the engine plus two water traps.
  • It would probably be a good idea to invest in the Kiwi diesel bug treatment that utilizes magnetic flux to kill off organisms that pass through before reaching the injector pump.  It looks like an ordinary fuel filter.
  • Not having an inspection hatch has always put me on the back foot.  It is a suspected infection that has finally prompted me to install tank hatches.

The use of naphthalene compounds as found in mothballs is completely untested as far as I know.  To date my two test pots of water and diesel have not grown sludge.  Any comments please.

The jury is still out on whether or not the tanks are infected.  Although the sludge and slime on the tank bottom is causing blockage to the fuel outlets, it might have been there for a long time either as accumulated sediment from contaminated fuel or it might be dead organisms and sludge, or it could be a clump of live organisms feeding on the water that accumulates at the bottom of the tank.  Either way, it will be prudent to treat the diesel and then clean each tank as they become empty.

  • Regular prophylactic chemical treatment, an installation of a ‘bug’ filter, water drain-offs and tank clean outs will keep the contamination at bay.

 

Pan sized snapper

 

Hey, just to show it is not all head down, bum up. I had some dried tuatua (clams, bivalves, shell fish) salted and steeped in tuna oil in a jar stowed away.  Put this on a hook and threw over while having breakfast.  Left on ‘bait catcher’ mode, and bingo, zzzzzzz zzzz.  What a surprise, in a shallow anchorage. High water, and just off an extensive tidal flat flush with shell fish and goodies for hungry snapper.

Reference.   http://www.docstoc.com/docs/19858597/diesel-bug-fuel-treatments

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Tweaking the nipple

Posted on April 28, 2011 by Colin Lowe

Thursday April 28, 2011

Tweaking a nipple makes all the difference when it comes to morning toast.
We were unable to try the ‘new’ gas oven before we purchased it over the internet. It replaced an old gas stove/oven that had done so well, cooking countless meals, cookies and loaves of delicious bread.

Purchasing the replacement, sight unseen, was just one of those things that we had to take a chance over. Once installed, extensive soot under the stove top indicated a problem. The middle grill flamed yellow. It should have been blue and the flames should not have separated from the burner, as ours did. The heating grill also stunk like mad, and making toast was akin to being inside a fish smoker. No amount of adjusting the air mixer screw would fix the problem.

The burner nipples (properly called injectors) on the stove top are two sizes. The  instructions indicated three sizes:  Boiling burners size 80,  grill 90 and Oven 60.  This seems to correlate to fractions of a mm.

An examination indicated the two burner nipples the same size, and the grill certainly had such a wide aperture nipple hole that the excess gas was not being completely burnt, resulting in smoke and smell.

Logic 101 demanded we try a smaller diameter nipple off the old cannibalised stove. It was too small. Nice blue flames, but not enough heat to warm bread let alone toast it. Some brow furrowing produced the simple idea of just boring out the small hole in the hope we would hit on the right gas flow. The closest drill bit to a size 90, if that indeed was .9mm was 1.0mm.

If you are like me, all my small diameter drill bits are broken. I’m sure the hardware shops make gazillions selling these small ones. I am also not of the persuasion to carry on board spares galore, although the spare oven was an exception.

The Admiral and I are at Waiheke Island, and so were lucky to be within walking distance of a large hardware shop in the middle of the island.  We can see the Sky Tower of Auckland central, have bush lined harbours and pleasant walks, but have a touch of civilization to ward off any technological crisis.It is a Clayton’s island. No annoying or corrupt officials (still waiting for customs to check us as they did in the Marlborough Sounds), no ocean voyage, no ocean storms, no fees to pay to enter, no crew needed, no itchy tropical heat, no tropical ulcers, no silly protocols, no Spam nor corned beef, and our fridge is not hemorrhaging attempting to cool the beer.We trotted along the narrow tree lined streets to buy a 1mm bit in the hope that it would be the right size to drill out a spare nipple to the correct diameter.

Yep, next morning, the carefully drilled out brass nipple gave us perfect toast.

Too much yellow flame.. big nipple aperture

Drilling the nipple to 1mm.

Adjusting the air mixture.

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Noodles and Depth Sounders

Posted on April 23, 2011 by Colin Lowe

Using Noodles to solve Electrical Problems.

One of our most used bits of equipment on board is the depth sounder, so repairing it was a priority when it refused to light up as we approached shallow water. As they say, you never know whatcha got until it has gone.
In moments like this, it is easy to forget that we can revert to traditional methods of sounding. In the same way that if a sum-log (marine speedometer) failed, one can calculate the speed of the boat by chucking a small log (yes, they used to do that) over the bow and timing its traverse past the stern. Bingo, a few calculations and you have the speed in knots. Re the depth sounder, similarly we have a back up. It is a heavy lead weight attached to a 6mm string marked at the depth of our keel, and two metre points after that. If we were to get tricky we would stick some tallow (old soap) on the base and thus be able to determine the nature of the bottom. Now what sounder today can do that? Indeed, we have, in the past used a lead to plumb (sorry for the pun) depths ahead. Marion at the bow swinging the lead with gusto ahead so it would be vertical, then shouting the numbers to me, much to the amusement of other boaters in the anchorage. Well, that was in 1979 in our first boat Wild Honey, and tech was a strange word.

Our depth sounder is also a low tech machine that displays the depth in red, and has one knob for on/off, and another for creating a depth alarm reading. Since electrical problems are usually only a short, or a poor connection, it was a matter of investigating where that short was. In my pessimistic way, usually, I go for the big end bearing first. Take the engine apart and remove the main crankshaft. So it was with this, off came the cover to reveal the inner marvels. Since the problem was intermittent, I suspected the switch. I took the start switch apart and cleaned the sliding contacts with alcohol and white cardboard. This helped, but the problem persisted.
The problem lay in contacts at the switch board end. Easily determined by use of the resistance setting on the portable meter. Wires had been crimped but somehow the connection failed. I soldered these wires together using my heavy copper iron heated on our gas stove. At the sounder end, I also shortened some narrow gauge wires and soldered some ends that joined to the heavy gauge wire coming from the switchboard. Reduce the resistance, improve the conductivity, and bingo we are back in business.

Noodles? Noodling out problems in electrical items is the term used to fix things. Do it logically and in sequence. Use a meter and use your head.

Old copper soldering iron permanently joining the + and - leads.

The inner sanctum.

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Rakino Island.

Posted on April 17, 2011 by Colin Lowe

Land Cruiser in carport

Indoor outdoor flow

 

 

Stone sheep, perfect pets.

Returning to the soil.

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Chain and hook

Posted on April 17, 2011 by Colin Lowe

17  April 2011 Odd yachtie seen off Narrowneck Beach.

Anchor chain and windlass.

Tonight, after a great day fishing and feasting off Narrowneck with friends aboard,  the wind is forecast to blow to 35 knots, and a gazillion knots in the morning when we wake up.  Hello winter.   We are anchored in the lee of the charming Doc protected Motuihe Island in the Hauraki Gulf in 8 metres of water with 30 metres of 8mm galvanized chain shackled to a big steel plough that was made by the builder of our boat 20 years ago.  I suspect that he had access to some pretty good engineering stuff, as the anchor generally never budges.   It is a good secure feeling being anchored to the sea bed while the wind generator whines and the wind howls in the rigging. The picture above shows a twin pile of chain.  One dirty and the other, shiny new zinc.

Washing fetish on boat.

Today I end for ended the 70 metres of chain to double the life of the galvanizing.  The dirty end had come to its fag end of life and is destined to remain at the bottom of the heap as its shiny opposite end zips in and out of the chain locker around the bays. This is the first time I have done this in 9 years of cruising NZ waters.  I have an odd habit of washing my chain and letting it dry on deck before committing it to the locker.  This rids it of salt and will greatly lengthen the life.  Why am I bothered?

New vs refresh.

Firstly, this length of new chain cost me $800 from memory.  When new, the galvanizing lasted about 12 months of cruising in NZ, Tonga and Fiji.  Maybe an aberration, but I just presumed the manufacturers were not interested in the expense of good quality hot zinc dipping.   Off to the galvanisers in Whangarei then, which cost me $600.  ‘Wow!’, you think.  ‘Not good value there considering the cost of new chain.’  However the new galvanizing lasted another ten years of cruising which included a global circumnavigation.  Yep, washing and drying it all the way.  Which means a longer time afloat, sailing, fishing, diving, yakking, tramping and sitting here bashing at the keyboard.

The Quaternary Period.

Oh, and while at it.  We use chain because of the greater caternary (‘Word’ instructs me to write Quaternary) effect of chain alone compared to rope and a length of chain.  It is not the strength of the chain that is important, but its effectiveness at lowering the anchor end of the chain to a near horizontal position.  Today in strong winds I have 5 X depth, but normally have 3 X depth.

Peak Oil.

Here’s another tip. When building your dream boat, get that windlass into a position so that the chain drops into the locker and heaps up below without building up to jam the entry point.  I use a Luddite-inspired manual windlass that provides much-needed right arm biceps exercise. Besides that, it enables us to gracefully and silently sail off our anchor position.  Peak oil will vindicate the use of such technology.

Horror story in the river.

And who had been keel-hung?  This occurs in a tidal stream that changes direction and the rope gets caught up around the keel, putting you broad-side on to the current.  (Usually at 2 am.)  You wake up to a strange sensation taking place.  Solution: Buoy the bitter end of your anchor warp, drop it over so it clunks under the keel, hopefully not getting caught in the propeller stuff, and letting it pop to the surface.  You then grab the spotlight and start your motor to retrieve the whole caboose before resetting it and getting back to sleep at 3 am.

 

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Engine of the Crew

Posted on April 13, 2011 by Colin Lowe

April 12, 2011 A Trade Me Oven

The Admiral and I have finally made the break from urgent commitments and sailed out of Westhaven where Wild Bird had been berthed for six weeks.  We now had an opportunity to explore the Hauraki Gulf, the playground of Auckland’s boaties.  Islington Bay, nestled between the 600 year old Rangitoto volcanic island and the green Motutapu Island was our first anchorage.  It was also a chance to install our recent purchase, a ‘new’ oven.

Hot bread from new oven

THE B700 FLAVEL.

B700 means nothing to me apart from it being exactly the same oven that we had since purchasing Wild Bird 20 years ago. It is a British made oven, probably more suited to caravans by virtue of its construction.  It had no stainless, but plenty of chromed parts.   However, it did the trick for 10 years heating food for our family of four circumnavigating the globe and also New Zealand.   While cruising, we usually cooked two loaves of bread every other day. Also cakes, biscuits, roasts, and a range of stove-top delicacies.  Not forgetting the five daily cuppa. It was sturdy, white enameled and importantly, reliable.

I kept the old Flavel in working order after various parts succumbed to the marine environment.  I had repaired some bits that broke, and when in the UK, had purchased a replacement stove top from a huge second hand chandler on a barge on the Thames estuary.  However, about 20 years later the insulation had probably sagged in the cavities, and the grill/toaster had corroded and everything was looking shabby.  When a
Flavel appeared on Trade Me in apparent good condition we pressed the ‘Buy Now’ button. One can peer closely at a pixellated image on a computer screen, never fully confident that the high res image in real life will be the same.   In this case, it was.

We will be in the fag end of life phase when the replacement Flavel succumbs.  We did not require a gleaming stainless instrument to impress visitors. Just a utilitarian machine that would denature proteins and lock in the chemical bonds of culinary delights mixed in our galley.

The new Flavel required no new fittings to make it fit.  I simply transferred essential gimbal fittings straight onto the new oven and bolted it in place.  The only adjustments to make were the air/gas mixture.  This is the screw bolt on the top of each of the three stove burners.  It is adjusted to the gas type by screwing down with the flame on until a pure blue flame without yellow just appears.

Ship shape was the easy job . The Admiral spent many hours making the Flavel ‘ apple pie and Bristol Fashion’.  Bingo, a ‘new’ oven ready to bake Rangitoto Bread.  Whoopee, the ‘new’ oven had a window through which we could view the rising culinary delights.  More importantly, it was a good way to see the oven flame for ‘seat of the pants’ temperature regulation.

Newly installed Flavel Oven

One other big advantage of keeping the same brand were the spares we salvaged off the old Flavel to keep the new one going.  This meant unscrewing jets, a burner or two, flame arrest device (the thing that cuts gas when the oven flame goes out), and the top rings which tend to rust over time.

The results were impressive.  Better insulation and burners meant a substantial savings in gas fuel. This was a project close to my heart.  Well the target was anyway.

Credits to ‘Hammond Organ’ and Bro-in-law for transport.  Cheers.

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Lightning strikes again.

Posted on April 1, 2011 by Colin Lowe

Lightning strikes a second time. 20 March
We were out with Bro-in -Law and his partner for the second day of an event-filled weekend, primarily to enjoy fishing in the Gulf. The first day’s drama was the result of cognitive problems with the Captain. Now Sunday’s problem was more of a ‘random mechanical’ problem, but one which was to cause a lot of hard work and bother. The Admiral, Bro-in-law’s partner and I had left Bro-in-law on board while we explored Motuihe Island. Some exploring and a swim later we arrived back on board to find Bro-in-law in a pickle because the hot water system was running via the gas heater and causing a real din. I switched off the power and lifted the floor boards to reveal a nice puddle of fresh water. I always wanted to give the bilge a real wash out. Oh well, more penance for someone’s shoddy workmanship.
Years ago I had joined a tap fitting to our hot water system with a hose fitting that was too small. To increase the diameter, I had slipped a hose over the fitting, then the main one on top of that and secured it with a hose clip. The heat had caused shrinkage of the internal hose, and eventually the clip slipped off. Slippery stainless clips do tend to unwind themselves anyway. Moral of the story, make such repairs temporary and do the proper thing or risk wet ankles. Secondly, give a brief to anyone left on board what to switch off in an emergency.
Years ago, the Admiral and I went diving around a small island. I had dropped a small rock pick in kelp, and the wind was starting to build up. I gave our crewman a brief run down on how to start the motor if things turn to custard. We did note at one stage that Wild Honey (our first boat) did seem a fair distance off. Not that we could do anything about it, so we carried on diving. Later, our crewman had woken up to a surprise, but managed to bring the boat back to us.
Pinking bronze.
Also of interest, just check those bronze skin fittings and gate valves. They are demanded in situations where the boat is required to be in survey. The reason being, they will not fail in the event of a fire. (Presuming the valve is turned off while the boat is burning). However, these bronze valves often only have brass spindles which dezincify during a period in salt water. This is the leaching out of the zinc from the copper matrix of Bronze.   Bronze is a physical amalgam of several metals, meaning the metals are not chemically bonded together.  Dezincification is often but not always caused by electrical stray currents, and leaves the bronze with pink colour, the colour of bronze that has had the zinc removed. It can happen to propellers and appears as small crusty nodules. It can be caused by setting up currents by dissimilar metals being close by, setting up a current in the presence of the electrolyte. (seawater) I have all plastic valves which are not prone of course, to electrical problems close to our steel hull, and for my purposes are reliable and sufficient. I have said this because a friend’s boat almost sunk after the failure of a bronze valve.

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Stairway to Heaven

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Colin Lowe

Our voyage from Wellington to Tauranga had been stymied by strong easterly weather on the Wairarapa Coast.  The Admiral and I were wary of this stretch.  In 1998 we were finishing off a two year circumnavigation when strong southerlies meant Wild Bird surfed this stretch on bare poles. This time, we had access to infinitely better forecasting tools.  The West Coast  was a lake. Wind was light and from the NE quarter. The moon would be in full phase, and the sunsets would be divine.  Everyone loves a good sunset.  The colours and cloud patterns combine to make a great picture.  Not as spectacular as the Southern Alps with their peaky egg whites, it is still a classic shape.  Here, on a mid summer’s evening.

Mt Taranaki on the second night.

As we sailed north, each day finished with a good light show.

Rose tints are perfect for a great pic.

Stairway to heaven, the rays lighting up the sky.

 

Moonset, sunrise, Motuihe Island

Motutapu Island

 

Sunset North Cape
 

Cirrus clouds above Mt Manaia

We anchored inside Whangarei Harbour.  I just loved the colours playing on the clouds and the spectacular Mt Manaia was a perfect foreground.

 

 

Rangitoto Island from Islington Bay.

In Rangitoto Island anchorage of Islington Bay, we saw some colourful Autumn evening sunsets, and also a perigee moon rising over Motutapu Ilsand.

Hauraki Gulf

Perigee moon

 

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Messing about in boats.

Posted on March 20, 2011 by Colin Lowe

19 March. The Hauraki Gulf.
Fuel Problems – what messing about in boats really means.

Fishing is one of my great passions. Nelson had been mediocre in delivering good feeds of snapper. Perhaps I should say my fishing techniques were not up to the more difficult regime in those cool waters. While sailing into the Waitemata Harbour, my wife had shouted to some fishermen ‘How is the fishing?’ To my astonishment, they held up a large golden snapper. I made a mental note to return to this exact spot, which was only a kilometer off Narrow Neck Beach.

The following weekend we set off from Westhaven Marina with our fishing-mad brother in law and his yachting–mad partner.

Bro-in-law kitting up for a great day.

As we motored past the floating fuel station, I made a mental note to pay a visit there when we had no guests aboard.  The trip from Nelson to Whangaroa via Wellington was a substantial distance.  The West Coast aka Tasman Sea had been like a lake, and our reliable Nissan (the iron mainsail) had been plugging away for seventy hours. Read on.

Soon we were at spot X and turned into the tide to anchor.  Just then the auxiliary spluttered to a halt. The anchor rattled down, baited fishing lines dropped, and I exposed the engine to analyze the problem.  Big end bearing? Better not go that far. Diesels need only clean air, oil, and clean fuel.  Oh, and they need to be kept running hard, with little idling – a fact lost on most boaties who idle their engines for hours without a load on..  The most likely cause would be air in the diesel.     So while Bro-In-Law and the ladies began a pleasant and productive morning hauling in a good catch, I put head down and bum up. You might say it was not my preferred activity that morning as I listened to the squeals of delight as each golden fish was hauled aboard.   However, the skipper must show some responsibility.

Like electrical problems, the solution requires some basic ‘noodling out’, a term for logically and sequentially solving the problem.   Get to the end of the errant noodle and suck on it. In this case, the best idea would have been to confer with the Admiral and heed her suggestion.  That is, check the tanks to see if there was actually diesel present. However, the ‘sight glass’ indicated a near full tank.  I  changed to the ‘full’ tank and pumped the bleed lever vigorously.   I could hear the gurgling of air in the large water trap under the floor boards. Hmm. A perished fuel hose would let in air on the negative pressure section (the hose between the filters in the bilge and the pump on the engine).  A new hose on that section provided a negative on that idea. Tighten fittings – no result. Change the filter next, since a rubber sealing ring might be perished or pinched. It needed doing, so no harm.  Result, negative.  At this stage, after an intimate session with one’s hot and oily motor in a rolling anchorage, the brain required a scan and defragmenting.  The  always right Admiral would have recommended a full format.

After gnashing of teeth and a welcome break fishing, the Admiral persuaded me that according to her calculations of hours run from Nelson (75), we should be out of fuel. The only way to confirm this, was to drop a weighted string down the fuel pipe and check the level. Of course, she was correct. We had motored a surprising number of hours.   The Tasman had not lived up to its reputation as a maelstrom of stormy water.   The excellent on line weather forecasts and a dollop of patience had ensured us a dream trip.

The great thing about puff boats is their ability to move around independent of the coast guard or friends.  With a rattling of chain, some rope work and flapping of sails, we sailed off the anchor to nearby Oraki Bay where we anchored off the marina break water.  Bro-in-law’s partner and I used the dinghy to purchase 30 litres of diesel in jerry cans so we could then motor Wild Bird in. $350 later I made a mental note to sail more often. Who knows, but yachts might become de rigueur in boating circles as peak oil approaches.

The exercise today had been one to remember. Don’t trust the sight glass, go for the first logical solution first, (listen to she who must be obeyed, the Admiral in this case) and keep your tanks full. It was useful in that we now know exactly the capacity of the tanks, and what the fuel consumption is.  Above all, look on the bright side of life.  The sun was shining in the gulf, the fridge was full of

The Admiral and Bro-in-Law's partner on delightful Motuihe Island.

fish, we had two very happy guests, and once again we discovered that messing about in boats threw up all sorts of surprises.

Captain winds down in between head in the bilge

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