If it can go wrong ...

An updated version of this blog is available at my updated blog site over at www.sailingsouth.org. You can find the blog article here.

Can you imagine a worse time for a major breakage than when you are introducing your in-laws to this fantastical thing you have been raving on about for weeks, months, years? The big project you have talked their daughter into and spent their grandchildren’s inheritance on?

First, there was the steering

We had taken Isosceles down to Salterns marina for the long weekend and booked the in-laws in to the hotel they have there. We had the kids down and everyone was looking forward to a fun few days pottering around the harbour, followed by some wining and dining with the family. With hindsight, difficulties getting Isosceles into her mooring birth were just a sign of things to come.

On the Saturday morning we loaded up, which was a bit of a squeeze. Although Isosceles will sleep eight, there definitely isn’t room for eight in the cockpit, and the 6 of us were struggling.

As we sailed up the harbour with the intention of showing where our regular mooring was and how far we motor to go ashore. The weather could not have been better for this little jaunt, we had sails up and were sliding along quite nicely. As we sailed past the main commercial port the steering became very very stiff and the autopilot alarm began to go sound, which was odd as it was covered and not in use at the time.

We turned back to the marina and stowed the sails. The entrance to Salterns is a very sharp dog leg, with some rather expensive yachts on at least one side of you as you enter. We phoned them to ask for assistance entering the marina itself as the steering was becoming worse and there was no way I would have enough control to safely manage the entrance, never mind berthing.

Then, with an almighty bang, the steering cable parted. This, as I’m sure you can imagine, did not go down with the mother-in-law!

Luckily the weather was still quite benign and so we managed to get a tow line from the marina launch to Isosceles with ease. Initially they tried to get us onto one of the vacant moorings until a more permanent solution could be worked out, unfortunately the steering was not central, and the one steering cable that was left would only move the rudder further off centre, and so we kept veering off to the side while being towed, which only resulted in extra chafing, and ultimately the tow line parted. Mother-in-law was most definitely not happy by this point!

The launch guy called the marina and got them to send out some reinforcements, so we ended up with two launches, one towing us and one attached to the stern “steering” us in. There were some well deserved, if a little early, mooring beers.

We ended up spending the best part of that week in the marina before we could get a lift back to our regular mooring with the local Sea Start guy. When he was organising our tow he suggested we could use the auto pilot to help with steering as he did the along side tow. Why oh why didn’t I think of that before?!

Fixing the steering cable took the best part of the rest of that year, not because it was a particularly big job, but trying to find the information, and then a good couple of days trying to take the steering pedestal apart with 30 years of corrosion on the fastenings. Just for reference the two steering cables are 18 foot of 5mm Stainless wire each. I ordered a little extra and cut it down, I’d rather have the extra than find I haven’t quite got enough when the job is nearly done. Once the steering pedestal is apart it’s a relatively easy job, adjusting the cables can be a little tedious, but it’s not that bad really.

Also while sorting out the details of the steering I finally managed to find the emergency steering tiller, oh how useful that would have been a few months earlier! It was hidden at the back of the shelves in the bottom of the cavernous cockpit locker rusting away. It has not been cleaned up and painted bright red, I'm currently working on permanent storage next to the steering quadrant hidden under the aft double birth.

Finally, we had a working boat again, but the season was rapidly coming to a close, at least in terms of our holidays, so plans began to be made for the following years adventures.

A year later, and a fresh start ….

There were two main plans for the following year, and the weather/ tides would decide where we went. First choice was the Channel Islands of Guernsey and Jersey, with an alternative of heading to the west country.

The engine had continued to have over heating issues and so I tried to do an engine flush on the cooling system to try and clear the 30 years of accumulated crud that would not be helping. There seemed to be a little improvement in the running temperature so I felt confident in a two week cruise, though I had postponed the Channel Islands until later in the year when hopefully crew mate Alex would be available, an excellent problem solver and the only other person I would trust with my pride and joy.

We dropped the mooring relatively early that June Saturday morning with the aim of making Lulworth Cove for an overnight stop, just around the corner and a beautiful spot. As we motored through the harbour all of a sudden the engine temperature rocketed. I dived below and pulled the cover to the engine compartment off only to see at least two streams of water pouring from the engine. My attempts at clearing out the crud had obviously cleared away the last remaining fragments of gasket on several parts of the engine

I was back on deck in a flash and had the engine stopped. I released the furling line to the genoa and told my wife to sheet it in. At least we had control again.

I told her what had happened and we turned to head for our home mooring. The shortest holiday in history was at an end. Luckily the weather was again very kind to us, allowing us to sail gently back towards the massed moored boats. My old Dad must have been watching over me as we went through the trials and tribulations of boat ownership.

We sailed, with a gentle breeze behind us and into the very beginning of an ebb tide, through the lines of moored boats. We got looks of admiration and compliments from the crews we passed sitting sipping their morning coffee in their cockpits. We performed a faultless mooring pickup under sail, stowed the sails and headed to the bar, time for mooring beers again and to drown some expensive sorrows. People in the bar congratulated us on our faultless display of sailing on to the mooring, they were pretty aghast when they realised we had no real choice in the matter!

We had always known the engine was the weak point of the boat, and the price had reflected that when we bought it. I had hoped the engine would last until I retired, but life has a habit of throwing curve balls at you when you least expect it.