CAPTAIN'S LOG
SEA DATE 14 AUGUST 2010
Port St. Louis-du-Rhone. Corsica. Meeting MV Jackie 'O'.
"Saga of the Generator"
Dear all,
A few days after our departure from Port St. Louis-du-Rhone, the generator decided to pack a sad. Not a good sign as without it, we cannot cook or make water.
The generator would run for between 10 and 20 minutes and then kark it. Problem appeared to be a lack of diesel - pretty obvious even to me. Checked the lines, all okay. Same with the filters. No problems there. One minor advantage, when it ran for more than 10 minutes, it was just enough time to make a cuppa. Thank God for small mercies. No tea is a major catastrophe. This checking of lines and filters and connections went on for quite a few days - on and on and off sort of basis (he said, going on and on). The problem turned out to be a leaking hose - which I didn’t discover until a week later.
In the meantime, water appeared in the pan below the generator. Checked all the salt water cooling and fresh water coolant hoses and their connections and they appeared to be fine. By this time we have ambled quite a way down the French Riviera and were about ready to cross over to Corsica. Food was usually roast chicken or cold cuts and salad. Not the usual high end faire that the good Lady Jane has availed us with. We arrived at Calvi, North West part of Corsica and pulled off the heat exchanger. Figured that the heat exchanger may be clogged up a tad and the beast could be cutting out from over heating. Soaked it in vineger, both inside and out. The heat exchanger not the beast. Lots of crap came out, but even better - one of the copper hose connectors was quite bent. Aha I thunked. This must be where the water is leaking out. During this process, I very carefully laid out the end covers to the heat exchanger, plus all bolts etc so I would not lose them. Alas and alack, when I put the lot back together, the 12mm brass bolt that the anode plops onto when inside the exchanger was missing in action. Or perhaps just AWOL as there was bugger all action going on with the generator. Had a stainless steel one, so at least I could bung up the ‘ole - as it were.
Being a clever chappie, I thought I would ask for “bolt assistance” on channel 16. The Corsica Coastguard in Calvi heard my call, and the word “assistance”. They responded requesting the name of the vessel, position, number of people on board, length etc. I gave them my lat and long, told them I was on a buoy in the outer harbour and that I needed a bolt - or boulon as the French would have it.
They asked me to let them know when I found one.
Earlier the same morning, I had noticed the arrival of one of the most famous boats in the Med. The ‘Christina O’ of Onassis fame. Bugger it I thought. Bet they have one on board. Best pay them a visit. Breezed over in the dinghy, slowing down quite a long way off as they do get a little security conscious at times. Lots of heads popped up and I was waiting for an AK47 to pop over the side as well. Beside the boat they had a landing platform with one of their people on it dressed up in his white togs and all. They also had a couple of kids jumping off the side of the boat and into the water - about a 5 metre drop - and swimming to the platform. There was another bloke on the deck helping them onto the rail. Mind you, as soon as I arrived, he was joined by two others that perhaps played front row in the scrum as their necks were pretty non existant.
I cautiously slid up to the platform and asked their people if they had a spare 12mm brass bolt. Their people asked their other people and their other people came down and spoke with our people (me as it turned out). While our people waited for their people to get down to see our people, our people (me again) decided to wait about 20 metres away from their boat as I could see that they were a tad twitchy. This made their people very happy as their kids kept jumping off the side of the boat. Finally one of their people came down to their platform and our people were summoned. One of their people said that their other people would have a look and get back to our people. I offered to bugger off (although I didn’t express in quite that manner) and suggested that perhaps their people could call up our people on the radio when they had searched their extensive bolt collection. I snuck back to our boat and waited. All to no avail. Their people called our people and advised that they did in fact have a lovely one in stainless steel. I thanked them very kindly for their search but I did in fact have the same in stainless, so cheers.
The good news however was that I found the missing bolt in the engine room. Carefully put aside so I wouldn’t lose it. Gad I am clever at times. I Straightened up the hose connection and put the heat exchanger back on and sparked up the engine.
To be quite honest, I am sure that Amy had snuck on board the boat the previous night and moved it. She is always doing that with my glasses. They are always being moved on the boat, usually at night time, and I can’t find them in the morning. I just KNOW she is flying in on her air miles and moving them. And she doesn’t even stop to say hi ....
Back to the engine. Fortunately, she ran long enough so we could make a cuppa. The engine, not Amy. She won’t even stay for a cuppa. Just arrives, moves my bloody glasses and buggers off again. Where was I - am I digressing? Then she karked it again. The engine that is. “Bugger” I mutter under my breath. I am now starting to pull my bloody hair out. I didn’t sign up for this crap. A boat with no tea? Bit like the pub with no beer. I know exactly how they feel. I can feel a song coming on ..... bit like Dame Edna.
Some good news though. When I was down beside the generator, I noticed diesel just pissing out of one of the injector hoses. What a relief. I now know why she keeps stopping. The engine that is - please don’t interrupt. The fractured hose must have been letting in a little air. Further, water is still pouring into the pan. To cut a long story even longer, I decided to head into the unknown parts of the generator that I had never even seen before. Access is diabolically small. Finally crawled my head around the end with all the important parts on it such as salt water pump and the coolant pump and the fan belt things. Why do they call them fan belts when there is no fan? This access has about 15 cm to work in and I crawl down beside the generator on my side ‘cos that’s the only space that I have. Took off the salt water pump and noticed that there was coolant coloured water in the hose line. Funny I thought. Funny. That should be salt water, clearish in colour, not bluish the colour of the coolant. Bugger. So off comes the heat exchanger again. I fill it with soapy water and block up the ends and blow into the tube that leads to the tubes inside the exchanger. Bubbles come out of the top. Bugger. Heat exchanger is knackered.
While down in the nether regions of the generator, I took a series of marvellous photos with my new digital camera. Sort of half way between a small compact one and a big real one. the camera that is. It fits in my pocket and has a bunch of knobs that I can twiddle with. The camera not the pocket. I like that. It’s a Canon G11. I would include a photo but it’s tricky to take a photo of a camera with that camera if you get my drift. I do digress. Water was leaking, or rather pouring out of a wee hole on the side of the coolant water pump. I spoke with Mr. Yanmar from the Shetlands (we met over a vat of wine at Port St. Louis-du-Rhone when our boat was on the hard in the yard). Brian is the bees knees with knowledge on all Yanmar engines. He told me that the pump is designed so that when the bearing is getting close to knackered, water comes out of this wee hole. Bugger I muttered. But at least I now know why I am getting water in the pan.
In the meantime, the generator has now decided not to turn over. Must have been getting bored. My Mechanic man tested the solenoid that starts and stops the machine (you can tell I am getting angry - it’s now a machine) and said that it was also buggered.
Ordered a new coolant pump and heat exchanger and solenoid and gaskets and a couple of spare impellers for the salt water pump and an air filter and two anodes from the Yanmar people in the UK. AMP (Atlantis Marine Power) are very good. A most efficient organisation. It all arrived in four days.
To save money, I am pulling all these bits off, trying to figure out what the problems are, and getting a Mr. Mechanic Man to put them all back on. Changed all the diesel hoses - everywhere. On goes the pump and the heat exchanger and the solenoid and anything else I can think of and we spark her up again.
Now another problem rears its ugly head. No water going into the salt water pump. I Burnt out the impeller. Lucky I was a bright boy and ordered a spare impeller. Sods law now as lo and behold, when my Mechanic Man in Ajjacaio (still in Corsica) went to put in the spare impeller, he noted it was also buggered. Two tears in the rubber. Also the keeper bolt that holds the brass thingie that squeezes the impeller so it will impel the water was buggered. Salt water pump is now non-operational. Bugger.
Sooooooooooo - getting bored were we? Lets get a new salt water pump shall we? Such fun. I love boating. Ordered from AMP on Monday.
This is where the fun starts. We wait until Friday and no delivery. I check the status of the package on line. Its been sitting in Marsellies for 4 of the 5 days. I email UPS and advise them of its location and that it is surely getting bed sores. Move it out please. We also decide to head down to Bonafacio from Ajjacaio requiring a change of address. Do the whole change of address by way of the correct channels, and head south. We wait here for another week and still no bloody parcel. I am calling up every other day and emailing trying to get UPS to move their bottom. Or alle ze la derriere as they would say in some parts of France.
While all this is going on, we were fortunately being entertained by the local charter boats arriving and departing from our Cala. Our Cala is like a big wet ravine. About 200 metres wide with moorings down each side. The moorings are Mediterranean style. A line runs from the shore (or rather a rock face) to the middle of the Cala, but on the bottom. They are then fixed to a long chain that runs from one end of the Cala to the other. The idea is to pick up the end of the line from the shore, and pull it up and tie it to the bow. (The boat is stern in with the bow out). Then take a stern line to the shore. We put one on each side and things are tickety boo. It’s important not to drop an anchor because there is the big long chain running from one end of the Cala to the other. The one with the ropes running from it to the shore. The procedure is pretty challenging as the wind is always winding and its winding straight down the Cala, at right angles to where you moor. Luckily we were helped by another catamaran owner. We didn’t know about the no anchor bit, so dropped our anchor and Mr. kind Frenchman with the catamaran helped with the lines. The next day, we tied extra lines between our boat and the mooring lines and slid out an picked up our anchor. Then just pulled on the extra lines and we were back in place. Fortunately, our Rocna anchor (from NZ) sets immediately so when we picked it up, it hadn’t slid and grabbed any lines or chain at the bottom of the Cala.
The entertainment factor here was huge. No charge - although I would have paid big bucks to see it. The incompetent factor was at an all time high. Some boats came in and moored up nice and quiet like, and others with husband and wife yelling at each other. We would go to the bow and let people know that you don’t anchor, and would more often than not, go and help in our dinghy. With the 30 hp engine, we can also act as a tug and hold a boat in position against the wind, or just push it into place. We earned quite a lot of wine this way. Then you would get the morons. They wouldn’t listen to our suggestion of no anchor, so we would just let them get on with it. In one morning we had 4 different boats hook our mooring line with their anchor. The Italians were certainly the most excitable, and perhaps the rudest of the lot. On quite a few days, Jane and I would spend 2 to 3 hours helping people moor up. Great way to meet people and just a good thing to do and a lot of fun.
The funniest though was a French guy with a mixed crew of 4 to 5. Very excitable. Always yelling. Right beside us. Prime seats we had. No charge. We called him H.A. Everyone on his boat were clothed. He was not. A very hairy chappie. Into the water he went - with his dark glasses on - to take care of the stern lines to the shore. Naked as a jay bird. Back on board and running around the boat yelling and taking care of the lines. Still naked as a jay bird. This performance went on for a good half hour. All was okay until he bent down to wrap a line around a cleat. He wasn’t facing us, quite the reverse in fact. And as I said, a rather hairy .... chappie as well. Hairy Arse or H.A. for short. His nether regions certainly could do with a wax job. Quite put me off my ham sandwich it did.
Back to reality. After 16 days of no parcel, I sent an email to AMP and asked them to send it to UPS. Told AMP that I was on zero tolerance with UPS. (Learnt this one raising Amy and Edwin. When I went to zero tolerance, they knew I meant business.) Told AMP that I would call them every hour on the hour until 1300 hours GMT. If UPS cannot locate and guarantee to deliver within 48 hours, send me another one by Fedex and UPS can pick up the extra shipping costs. The previous week when I asked UPS to find the parcel, they said it was out of their hands. Reason? UPS did not deliver to Corsica, so the parcel was in the hands of a “third party”. I delicately advised them that this was cobblers. They must know who has the parcel. Response? “Sorry - third party - don’t know”.
I called the two shipping companies in Corsica (yes - there are only two) and only one handles UPS. We located the parcel and I had it in 24 hours.
I have heard that Fedex and UPS are joining forces, although I question the word force. They are going to call the company FedUp.
All good sagas come to an end. We now have a generator with two new pumps, a new solenoid, a new heat exchanger, new diesel hoses, new water hoses for the salt water, new anode, new air filter, and she goes like a treat. She’s a bunch of fluffy ducks and I love boating again.
As this minor saga is getting rather long, I will continue my ramblings with a new epistle.
Signing off
Her Jane
Me Russell