If you guessed 'Boat Yard' you would be right.
And what's a trip to the Bahamas without a trip to at least one, right?
Here's Hans as he wanders back to our boat.
Apparently while I was away for a week and Hans had taken to hanging out at Snappa's Bar, our port engine felt neglected, took up with a questionable group of friends, and picked up a nasty smoking habit. Even after being told to knock it off, she belched out even more smoke and asked us just what the hell we planned on doing about it. We happened to be within a few miles of Boat Harbor Boat Yard in Marsh Harbor and so we marched her smoky butt right on over for some rehab and tough love.
Wilbur wonders if there are any boat yard dogs hanging about.
Bubba wanted so badly to board the Knotty Cat and visit with his new found love. When he realized that wasn't happening he was happy to just croon ever so quietly, "Woooo woooo woooo," and Wilbur squawked back in his rough pitty voice.
Dennis from the boat yard was a really nice guy who'd actually worked in Rock Hall, Maryland for quite some time but after suffering through snow up to their roof he told his wife they were going back to the Bahamas.
He immediately put our fears to rest that it might be clogged fuel injectors and feels that it's most likely carbon build up in her mixing elbow. We've had that in the past and hope that when we get back home we can clean it out. In the meantime we made the mistake of saying oh well at least we still have the starboard engine. The starboard engine caught wind of this, pitched a fit at the possibility of being an 'only engine', and promptly piddled oil all over the engine room floor.
After thinking things over and knowing that oil can only come from the engine itself or the oil filter, Hans checked out the filter and lo and behold, it was loose! He gave it (and the port engine filter) a good crank. No more drips.
So far so good.