I Now Officially Own the 'Terlet Queen' Sash...

...For Life; and I dare anyone to take that one small and smelly accomplishment away from me. The fact that it's all my fault is beside the point.

All those white hoses belong to the Knotty Cat's 'septic system', and what a joy they are to work with. NOT!

Honestly, I never thought that only two years after replacing most of the hoses to our head that I'd be right back at ground zero.

But, I was.

First of all, I have to tell you, I've revised this particular post so many times during the past week I've literally lost count.

Initially, when we first noticed that the head we use most often (the one adjacent to our berth) wasn't flushing in the same friendly manner we'd become accustomed to, I was puzzled. You see, in May when we yanked our holding tank out of its new home (we needed access to the space beneath it), the hose that fed into it was perfectly clear. And don't think I wasn't feeling just a bit smug. "I bet we have years before we need to worry about replacing these hoses again." I stated.

Four months later, while everyone else was enjoying their Labor Day Weekend, I was eating (and smelling) my words because once again I was at work in the bowels of the Knotty Cat.

I was a little surprised at how long it took me to get the hoses apart, even when I took a heat gun to them

Oh, man! The hose was full of water which meant something was blocking it

As a lifelong fan of Nancy Drew and Agatha Christie, I dearly love a mystery, but I'm pretty sure Nancy never had stinky potty water spew over her feet, and Agatha used much prettier smelling poisons than the odors emanating from our hoses.

This much I knew; either there was a huge blockage in the hose I thought was the culprit, or else the Joker Valve (who comes up with these names?) right beside the toilet was coated with calcium deposits. Well, bless my stupid soul; it was neither one.

In the end, I tried to use the process of elimination (honest to god, I should give a prize to the person who can point out all of the unintended puns I've interjected in this post), and just like I did two years ago, I wasted too many days trying to clear hoses, when instead, I should have concentrated on replacing them from the get go. This time around I decided to forego using muriatic acid (which scares the crap out of me) and opted instead for a mixture of vinegar and lemon juice (which, I find, cleans stainless fixtures better than any leading cleanser on the market).

Labor Day weekend rolled around and eager to spend some time at the pool, I reconnected the one hose I'd focused on, bolted everthing back in place, threw the lever on our salt water intake, and bending over the toilet so I could see if water was leaving the bowl, I pumped the flush lever like crazy. For a few wonderful seconds I thought I was home free and then I felt that damn 'spongy' resistance you get with a blockage.... and WHAM! the toilet retaliated by erupting like a volcano. Directly in my face. How I didn't get whiplash I'll never know and I swear it was like I'd channelled the Seinfeld episode The Pothole .

I guess I should be happy Hans will still kiss me.

The hose I thought was going to be okay and clog free, was not

 

Even worse, these two connections are where the hoses connect to either pump into the holding tank or overboard. No wonder I couldn't flush

Scraping that crap out was all kinds of fun

Prior to yanking the hose off this sucker, I put paper towels underneath because I didn't know what might run out

So on Monday afternoon after a full week of messing around, we finally finished installing new hoses and once again I bolted and clamped everthing in place. I poured some fresh water into the toilet bowl and even without a drum roll I felt very dramatic when I started pumping the handle (although I leaned away this time). And; SUCCESS!! I was so happy I kept repeating the process of dumping cups of water in just so I could flush without any resistance or volcanic eruptions. Even Wilbur did a little happy dance.

Lesson learned. Fresh water flushing from now on.

 

Poor Wilbur didn't know what to think about the whole thing.

While I was working in the engine room Wilbur would lie on the floor in the doorway to the head, and when that got old he'd climb into our berth and nap. That way he could still keep an eye on me.

Actually I should add here that when I say all hoses have been replaced, I'm talking about the head on our starboard side. This is the one we use the most.

The port side head is another story. It's the one we used while ours was incommunicado and there are two major hoses I haven't replaced yet. Why? Because I just don't want to. They're heavy black hoses, they stink, and one of them goes behind the shower wall and will need to be 'fished' through. 'If it ain't broke don't fix it' is my motto, and I keep my blinders firmly in place.

But right after we pronounced our head to be cured of its ills, we peeked at the hoses on the port side and once again I said let's leave them be. Just as I was closing the door I noticed something though; a spongy bulge right at the top of a hose and directly under a hose clamp. An aneurysm. In a toilet hose. I can't even imagine the nightmare mess we'd have if that thing blows.

I guess Dr. Laura's job is never done.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Where in the world are Hans and Laura

 

So what might that be sitting in our cockpit?

It's our holding tank. And if you eventually end up as our neighbors, I assure you it's not staying there.

We finally decided to get the Knotty Cat hauled out in order to fix the leak she developed a few months ago. We're pretty sure one of the bolts that holds the port side propellor shaft in place has come loose and in order to fix it she needs to be out of the water.

 

At least it's empty

We also knew we'd better have the starboard bolts checked and that's when I had an 'Oh, shit' moment. I reminded Hans that we'd placed our new holding tank directly over the drive shaft when we installed it behind the starboard engine. I distinctly remember saying at the time that I hoped we'd never have to move it.

Well, guess what.

After disconnecting the hoses that pump into the tank, I covered them with Duct Tape in order to keep odors inside and not out. Peeeeeewww!

This could have been a real deal breaker for me. That's the pump out fitting at the bottom of the tank. I put Duct Tape on it also and thank God it held.

When we had our final pump out before leaving for the boat yard, I asked if we could make sure the tank was totally empty as we might need to move it. Not only did they pump it out they added some fresh water for a rinse and we were goood to go.

Let me add here, also, that we've been told we have the cleanest holding tank in the marina. I was feeling pretty smug about that and stated that we are very careful about what goes into the tank. Maybe someday I'll learn to keep my big mouth shut because this is what I discovered; holding tanks stink, and I don't care if you piss crystal clear filtered water and sh*t gold bricks, holding tanks stink!

We got the boat moved and when we found out the tank would definitely need to be out of the way I got busy and disconnected all the hoses. I immediately taped the openings to the tank and I was very relieved that the hoses themselves were super clean (I've gradually replaced them in the last couple of years) and nothing ran out of them.

Getting the tank out was a lot more trouble than I thought it would be and we had to tip it on its side a couple of times (at one point my face got crushed between the boat and the corner of the tank, ouch!). We finally got it into the cockpit and I insisted on hosing it out since I could see that there was about 2 to 3 inches of liquid sloshing around the bottom. The pump out fitting does not sit flush (I'm loving these play on words that's why I'm underlining them) to the bottom so it's never really totally empty. Like I said before, it's a damn good thing that tape stayed in place.

I grabbed a hose, ran a few inches of water along with some vinegar into the tank, and then tilted the pump out fitting downward to let the water out. Oh, Dear God, the stench! And what the hell was that sludge running out of it? Aha!!! Toilet paper. Gross disgusting semi-dissolved toilet paper of about a years vintage. Well, I hosed and hosed and hosed both the tank and our cockpit, heaving and very nearly throwing up thus almost adding to the mess because like the idiot I am, I forgot to buy a mask. And then to add insult to injury, when I hefted that sucker up on edge (it's a 32 gallon tank) it slipped and smashed down on my bare foot. I think I cried but I'm not sure because I was gagging so hard. Poor Hans felt so bad but I'd told him this was my job and to stay away. He tried to get me to stop but I knew we'd have to get that stinker back in and I wanted it clean.

And clean it is! And it's going to stay that way! I've read tons of boating blogs over the years and I must say I was always a bit disturbed when they mentioned that they don't allow toilet paper to be flushed, it get's thrown away instead. So, after pouring bleach all over the cockpit and scrubbing myself raw hoping to avoid e-coli, I informed Hans that toilet paper has no place in our tank and he agreed. I can't imagine what would have eventually happened had all that crap built up over the years and eventually compromised the pump out fitting at the bottom of the tank.

Let me tell you, if they thought our tank was clean before, they are in for a real treat now!

After the haul out. This is the starboard propeller.

A close up of where we think the leak is on the port side. It's the upper bolt and nut we believe came loose. We hope that's all it is.

So where are we while all this work is being done? The picture below is what I see when I look out our window.

 

The view inside looking out.

 

It's a good thing Wilbur isn't with us, there wouldn't be enough pillows to go around.

Pure decadence.

We are in Maine.

It's cold.

I can't begin to describe the spicy, piney smell in the air, but it sure as hell beats head odor.

I love it.

Posted with Blogsy

Just when you think you've got it all figured out...

...you don't!

And right now I'm pretty much on my last nerve.

First of all (and probably the least of our problems) my computer died. Just like that. And every picture I've ever taken is stuck somewhere in its innards. That leaves me with attempting to use Blogsy until I can get it all figured out. I don't like Blogsy and I'm almost certain to have a meltdown before this post gets published. The fact that I just spent about 15 minutes trying to find new AAA batteries in our nav station via a dying flashlight in order to get my bluetooth keyboard working, does not bode well for a peacefull evening. I need two batteries, I found one, I'm holding my breath, and Wilbur is hiding in a corner.

We've been gifting the Knotty Cat with all kinds of pretties this summer. I wrote in my last post that we installed a new holding tank. And there's nothing like contorting your body in all kinds of unnatural positions in an airless engine room while trying to aim a heat gun on uncooperating hoses to make you feel real good about deciding to live on a boat. I sometimes wonder if yoga got it's start at sea.

And then there's the wind generator. Hans has been just itching to get one of these buggers for a long time and one night he finally bit the bullet and ordered one. Oh my, he couldn't wait to install it and with great pleasure he took a vacation day from work to do so. We arranged for an electrician to arrive first thing in the morning in order to make sure it was wired properly since the whole Knotty Cat electrical/battery system is still a bit of a mystery to us as too many chefs have created quite a stew behind all the panels. The wiring was done lickety split and then Hans and I were faced with getting that big stinker up in the air. It may have been October but it was hot and sweat was pouring off of us in no time. There was a point in the afternoon where I'd have taken bets that this project would not be completed by sundown and I'm pretty sure if our neighbor hadn't had a day off work Hans and I would either be divorced or dead. Neighbor had replacement screws and nuts for the ones we dropped overboard, he had the proper saw that ate through the stainless supports we needed to shorten, he gave us a lot of advise, and basically saved the day.

It's not his fault the damn thing doesn't work!

A couple of weeks ago we headed out to the Gulf with hopes of testing our new toy and it was obvious from the get go that it wasn't working. It has three settings; charge, free wheel, and brake. It misbehaved for all three and the only time the amp meter worked was when it 'dropped' way below zero and then swooned. A defective switch was the opinion of our electrician and we had a new one overnighted. The new switch was installed but guess what? No go. It still doesn't work. The latest verdict from our electrician is that the generator itself is defective. At this time I have no idea where this is going.

So anyway, like I said we anchored out. Keep in mind this was after it took Hans an entire day to change the oil and transmission fluids in both engines. The only reason it took so long is because it's been nearly two years since we've had to do this and for the first time we had to bleed air out of the system. After we got back we noticed quite a bit of water sitting in the port engine room and decided it must have happened during the oil change when Hans probably stepped on the dripless shaft seal (expensive stuffing box replacement).

So last weekend we headed out for a day sail with some friends (where we discovered the wind generator is strictly ornamental), enjoyed (sarcasm) a day of lumpy seas, and after a surprisingly smooth landing in our slip, wondered why the hell the port bilge pump was going off at thirty second intervals.

Aha! It must be the dripless shaft seal! Only it wasn't. We finally figured out it was a repeat of the disaster we encounted in the Intracoastal a couple of years ago. Only this time we were lucky enough to be sitting in a marina with shore power and not sitting in some remote anchorage.

We've no idea why this has happened again and it's really putting the kabosh on our Thanksgiving plans as it appears we'll need to be hauled out.

Again.

Gee, it looks good doesn't it?

"Awe! Say it's not so!!!!" Wilbur cries. "The Knotty Cat rules all!"

If all else fails and life appears bleak, post a picture of a helpless pit bull modeling yet one more baby hat.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Replacing a holding tank on an Island Packet Cat

Fall is finally here which means I can now emerge from the sweaty coma that I sink into every summer and get some projects done. 

So anyway, we are currently in the middle of some boat projects but I'm only going to address one at a time or else this could easily become a twenty page post.

Something I haven't quite figured out though is why the smelly business of our holding tank has become my pet project, and just because my dad was a plumber doesn't mean that I inherited some sort of plumbing talent gene from him.

Yes folks, we're talking about the holding tank on our boat, which on land would be called a septic tank. 

I blogged about my first experience with clogged hoses on this post so needless to say I really didn't want to go there again.

But I did.

Back when we bought the Knotty Cat we were led to believe she was trained and knew how to use a litter box properly so as not to stink things up for her new owners. And we were thankful for that because it soon became apparent that the Knotty Cat loves attention. In short order we replaced leaky drain hoses, bought her new batteries (twice), replaced her water pump (twice), had her bottom cleaned and painted (she looooves that process as it means getting hauled out and paraded about the boat yard which makes her feel like a princess), installed drip-less shaft seals along with balancing her engines (that time she tried to shed a propeller and sooo not cheap), sailed her to the Bahamas where she took up smoking (we put a quick end to that), gave her some solar panels, and a new main sail and wind generator are in the works! 

Wow!

So back to the holding tank.  We first got wind that something was up a few years ago when some charterers who were using our boat complained of odor. When we got back on board everything seemed okay. Then we had company for a long weekend and shortly after we noticed some head odor, but it quickly disappeared.  Of course the day we really noticed it was when got married out in the bay on the boat with family and friends along and it was obvious that the Knotty Cat wasn't playing fair. Oh, it was bad.

Why couldn't we figure out what was wrong? Because our holding tank is glassed in, that's why.

Honest to God! What were the people at Island Packet thinking when they put this boat together?  We love our boat; it's solid and has a ton of space and storage, but no access to the holding tank? 

CRAP! And that's not a pun!

I tried all kinds of things.  I had the tank filled with soapy water and then pumped it out, I poured expensive products from West Marine into it and had it pumped out. And just when we thought everything was okay, Wham! there was that smell again. 

We decided our tank had a leak. Where? Who knows because it's GLASSED IN!! The decision was then made to be extra careful about what went into the tank. That meant that the bath house was to be used for number two, and when flushing pee into the tank to try to use fresh water and not marina water which I think is smelly. 

Many times we discussed replacing the tank but after a trip into the engine room and seeing what all would be involved we fled back into the salon where I would have a Wilbur Wow Wow and try to forget about it. 

But we want to go cruising again and we don't want to be the stinky ones in the anchorage. 

So here's the deal.

Our holding tank is long and flat like a safe deposit box and holds 40 gallons. It's length runs from port to starboard, aft of our companionway and directly under our cockpit. Unfortunately that means it is just feet away from my galley (separated by a wall of course) where you can really smell it when it acts up. 

In the engine room, tons of hoses and electrical lines are mounted onto the fiberglass that covers it. Even if you were to remove all those things (and you just know something would be sure to break or rupture), you would then be faced with getting the tank out. Since it's so long it can't be pulled out because it would run into the engine room wall, therefor it would need to be cut out. 

I googled forever trying to find if anyone on an Island Packet Cat had ever done this but came up empty. Hans lucked into finding a boat yard that had actually worked on two of them. The mechanic said he cut out and replaced the first tank he worked on and swore he'd never do it again. On the second one he merely abandoned the existing tank and installed a new one in an empty space behind the starboard engine. This is what we had considered doing and his story confirmed for us that that was the way to go. It would have been nice if we could have installed it on the port side where the pump out fitting is but our automatic pilot would be in the way.

Let me say we are very lucky to have so much room and I'm glad we never bought a diesel generator for that spot! 

"This post isn't about me? How boring, I guess I'll just take a nap."

Disconnected pump out hose. The small hose on the left is the over flow for our fuel tank.

New pump out hose in place. The old hose hasn't been removed yet.

The new hose has to go from the port side to the new tank on the starboard side via a tunnel between the hulls. Those hoses to the left are attached to the fiberglass surrounding the old tank. Our hot water tank is on the right.

The new hose stuck between the hulls. 

I was working by myself on this so I used our boat hook to pull the hose through.

Looking straight down. The new pump out hose is attached to the new tank.

The old hose that empties out the starboard head to the holding tank. Trying to remove those old hoses is a real treat! They've been in place for nearly twenty years and felt like cement filled tubes. I used a heat gun for the first time and it's now my best friend.

New hose in place.

And now attached to the new tank. The fitting on the right will be for the port side head hose.

A before picture of the pump out hose hanging free.

An after picture with the new pump out hose zip tied in place.

This is what the tank looks like (sitting so elegantly in our berth). Two fittings at the top for the heads to pump into and the bottom fitting for the pump out. It will hold 32 gallons.

Starboard engine room. The tank went in the space behind the engine. 

We placed cleats fore and aft that we'll use to help strap the tank in place. We had to make sure the tank wouldn't be so big as to run into that drain hose you can see on the left.

The bottom where the tank will sit is very rough and uneven so we bought a piece of starboard for it to sit on. We also screwed some treated wood to it as a frame to keep the tank from sliding.

A close up of the cleats. There is an identical set on the opposite wall.

Here I am sitting on the new tank.  I think I should have a tiara and a sash announcing me as Miss Terlet Queen! Getting that sucker in there was pretty interesting. Just a few inches bigger and we'd have had a problem.

One of the old hoses after being cut off.  I used our emergency plugs to keep the yucky stuff inside.  But only after gushing a bunch of the yucky stuff all over my feet!

We had our final pump out last week and I made sure it was full of clean water and vinegar since it's being left in place. The holes will be plugged but still....

Tomorrow will be our first pump out for the new tank. I'm not too worried about it and even if it needs some tweaking the rules for using the first tank still hold until we know everything's A-OK!

Pssst.  Did you really think I could write a post without including the Little Man?

"Does I haz sumfing in my teef?"

When I have time...

... I plan on posting about living aboard a boat in a marina.

But, just when I think I have a minute I realize there's something I forgot to take care of. Like filling our water tanks, and considering that we use the bath house for most of our showers we still manage to go through about 70 gallons of water in less than a week.

I've finally decided to save myself about a half hour of time by just waiting for Hans to get home from work and handing me the hose from the dock while I grab it with a boat hook. This is way more simple than me trying to get it in the boat without dropping it in the water (and dock water is gross!). This week after filling the tanks I couldn't help but notice how dirty our cockpit was and decided to hose it out. I'll give it a good cleaning some other day I told Hans, but then I decided to take advantage of the cooler temps and ended up scrubbing the whole thing. And then I saw grease spots on the outer deck that had dripped from our grill, and what is that stain up at the bow... ? I think I now have scrubbing elbow and sadly this will all have to be done again next week.

I'll think of something that makes our life interesting but remember I need to get to the office for ice and since Wilbur needs to take a walk I'll kill two birds with one stone and take him with me. And with Junior along that little job is guaranteed to take twice as long (I'm pretty sure a lusty blood hound once took unfair advantage of one of Wilbur's ancestors because there's not a blade of grass that goes un-sniffed during these excursions). Our mailbox is also over at the office but do I ever remember to take my key with me? And there goes another trip.

I'll go to sit down at the computer and remember I need to do my daily creative shuffling of our refrigerator's interior. We have a wonderful Adler Barber refrigerator with freezer. But everything on the bottom of the fridge ends up freezing and the stuff on the shelves up and away from the freezer don't get as cold as they probably should. This isn't a defect, it's just the way it is. So everyday I swap thawed out ice packs with frozen ones. I also have a couple of pliable sheets of stuff that look like bubble wrap and I lay our eggs and butter, sour cream etc... on these. I sit our milk and things like potato salad right on top of the freezer, they don't freeze but they stay very cold.

I take our bunk apart and convert it back to a sitting area (something we do everyday since it's too hot to sleep in our berth) and think, today I'll start a post but then notice our carpet is dirty again which is what happens when your carpet is one tone and you have a dog and feather pillows and you live on a boat! Not that sweeping these small areas is so time consuming but in order to get to the sweeper, I have to crawl over the obstacle course that's taken over our port berth to the locker where the sweeper resides.

I decide I don't feel like collecting all my shower stuff and then trek all the way to the bath house so I shower on the boat. Aha! with all the time I saved I'm going to take it easy and upload pictures that have been sitting on my camera for over a week. But then I realize I can't remember the last time I cleaned out the shower filter and after venturing into the engine room to dismantle it I'm completely grossed out over how filthy it is. And while I'm at it I should probably see if I can figure out why the sink is draining so slowly.

I swear I go to the grocery store every day. It's not that I buy tons of stuff but I try to watch for sales and now that we're within a stones throw of a lot of stores I don't need to keep tons of provisions on board and can actually use the cupboards in our berth for our clothes and not ten boxes of tuna helper.



Isn't this lovely?

We had to use tarps to cover the dead lights (or windows) in our cockpit in order to keep out the hot Florida sun. We've also re-purposed our cockpit cushions by covering our hatches with them. This also keeps out the sun and who cares if it seems like we're living in a cave? It's better than living in an oven.








Just try to get some sewing done with a pit bull lying at your feet. I pray he doesn't knock that support out from under my table. And the other day I had a heart stopping moment and nearly sent for a priest when my sewing machine started sewing all by itself. Then I realized Wilbur had flopped down on the foot peddle. He's mommy's little helper.

Now that Hans is gone all day long, someone misses his daddy!

This past Sunday we spent the day at the beach with some very new friends and watched speed boat races. This is the first time we've left Wilbur alone for more than a couple of hours and right before we left the boat we were a bit puzzled about the air conditioner. It didn't seem to be blowing cold air. But the day was very cool and the unit was very new so surely we were imagining things.

When we got home eight hours later we were horrified to realize we could smell our head from the dock and were even more horrified to enter a very stuffy and very warm boat!

Yes, our air conditioner was indeed on the fritz and our holding tank took advantage of the situation and developed a bizarre case of the vapors.

I'm just very thankful that it had to happen on the coolest day we've experienced since we've been here and never again will we leave Wilbur alone for this long unless the promised highs for the day won't go above the 70's!

I spent the next day getting a new unit (covered under warranty), calling our dentist's office in Pittsburgh (for the third time) and asking why they're still sending their bill to our old address, and making sure to buy a bottle of bourbon.

You see, after finally moving the now defunct air conditioner to our vehicle (which required said vehicle to be emptied of our winter stuff and ramming it all into our already overflowing port berth and now I'll never find that damn sweeper!), feeding and walking our neglected and bewildered baby, we sat down (in our very smelly boat) to a crappily thrown together dinner of tortilla chips, nacho cheese, and the tiny amount of salsa I was able to scrape out of the bottom of what I had thought was a full jar! I was looking forward to a well deserved drink, and realized I was out of bourbon! Talk about the straw that broke the camel's back!

So anyway, if and when I get some time, I fully intend to post about what it's like to live on a boat in a marina!

Stuck in St. Augustine

You're not going anywhere buddy!

After Wilbur's great escape we're trying to keep a better eye (and grip) on him.










We arrived in St. Augustine, FL on Monday after an uneventful day in the canal. We had no sooner anchored on the northern side of the Bridge of Lyons that Joey and Christine from Bright Eyes came zipping up to us in their dinghy. They'd been at the beach and were on their way back to their boat when they spotted us.

I'm sorry to say they left early the next morning though and are already in Daytona. We thought we'd be right behind them but that's not happening now.



Here is our Knotty Cat as seen from the bridge. Yesterday we moved to a mooring as it's been very windy and the
currents are pretty strong.

For the first time during this trip we finally put the dinghy in the water and hooked up the motor. We were all happy when the motor fired up nicely.

A view of the A1A restaurant from our boat.










St. Augustine really is quite beautiful and I guess we could be stuck somewhere a lot worse.

Right?

So why are we stuck?

After running around town all day, once with Wilbur and once without, we decided to fire up an engine in order to charge up some equipment. I'm not sure how long white smoke was pouring out of the exhaust before I discovered it when I went up to the cockpit. We now need to get a new pulley for our raw water pump. Hans discovered that the opening where the screw holds it in place is now 'out of round'. He checks the belts etc... every day and he was sure that everything was nice and tight.

I have to say though that this bothers me a lot more than the fact that my nose tells me we have a leaky hose in the holding tank.

Stinky stuff I can handle, engine problems disturb me!