That Sinking Feeling

Generally speaking, it's best to keep the water you float in outside the boat. So when I went back to RI to sail Flyer down to Annapolis, I was a bit disconcerted to find a half inch of water in the bilge. I sponged out the bilge till there was absolutely nothing but fiberglass, wires, and shiny keel bolts. In the morning I was half way through my shower on shore (generally speaking, it's best to keep the water you shower in inside the shower stall) when I remembered the bilge. I almost called Yanik, who was making coffee as I left for my shower, to check the bilge, but I held out till my return.

Then I checked the bilge. The boat was not sinking, but my heart was. There was a half inch of water in the bilge. Despite the dread, I dipped a finger in the water and did the telling taste test. It was salty. I coerced Yanik into confirming my diagnosis.

After coffee and a breakfast bar I went up to the yard to consult with Steve Trehue (the yard owner). He assured me that there could be no leak along the keel seam because they ground down around the seam and sealed it with fiberglass and epoxy. He suggested that it may be residual and/or rain water, and that I should dry it out completely (again) and monitor it.

Meanwhile, we readied the boat for sea. Yanik checked electric systems and established navigation systems, fixed the fresh water pump, and did a billion other things (not the least of which was discovering that the burners on the stove worked and did not require new thermocouples). John Post came by just in time to help to send me to the top of the mast (again) to right the wind anemometer cup & vane direction sensor that for some reason had been attached upside-down. While up there, I fixed the anchor light just by cleaning the rust off the contacts. Not that we'd be anchoring at sea, mind you, but it seemed the right thing to do given I was already dangling in my harness.

What goes up must come down. Following my descent from the mast head, I stuck my head in the bilge and once again found water. Did the taste test again. Sure enough, it was salty. I made the difficult trip up to the yard to talk it over with Steve. He couldn't believe that there could be a leak but sent Phil (the repairman) to try to find the source. Before long he determined that water was coming in through the keel bolts. Not only that, but to test the nature of the leak, they'd have to haul the boat and drop the keel.  I consulted with Steve yet again, who thought he could have us on the hard, repaired, and ready to go on Tuesday.

Meanwhile Sweeney had stopped by for a visit. Still suffering from diverticulitis, he was not able to sail down to Annapolis with us. Worse (for him, I think), he was unable to help me drown my sorrows in drink after the two Johns and I conferred and decided to scrap the delivery. Yanik couldn't afford to waste time hanging around for repairs, the nature of which was still speculative. One more trip to the yard to confirm things with Steve, but by then the yard had closed for the weekend.