January 24, 2010

Up early again to get to Napa by about 8 am. Contrary to the forecast, it was drizzly, so I wasn't going to be able to do the electrical work on the mast as I had hoped. Instead, I checked inside for leaks and smells. I rejoiced in the odor-free atmosphere of the main cabin. My purging of the head and cleansing of the fridge had done the trick. The plastic sheeting had also worked. The only leak was, naturally, above a berth. It was most likely coming from imperfect sealing of the hole left by removal of the portlight above the berth. Because everything was wet outside, there was no way to cover it with plastic and duct tape. If it ever stops raining, I'll give it a try.

I spent the next hour or so off-loading sails and doors, making measurements for other projects and checking out what I could on the mast. I also met a fellow boat-restorer named Chris. He's got a little Flicka on the hard near Circadian as well an Alberg in Sausalito that he restored. My first sailboat was a Flicka, so it was fun to go onboard his and wax nostalgic. I gave him a tour of Circadian too, of course. He's a very knowledgable engineer, and seems to be a nice guy too. Imagine that!

I decided I might as well make it a short day, grab lunch and head home so I could do some work in the shop. I drove around town a bit looking for a little Mexican dive I remembered from my last Napa boat yard marathon 10 years ago. After one false start, I found it pretty easily. It was pretty much as I remembered: good cheap food, which is not easy to find in chi-chi Napa!

With more than 3 hours of driving behind me, by the time I had gotten home and unloaded everything my ambition had significantly diminished. Besides, I told myself, it was getting late and I needed to do laundry. So, all I did was a little grinding on the new fiberglass windlass base and put a fairing layer of glass on the top.

January 19, 2010

I added one more layer of resin and roving to the mold and cured it in my antique Chambers oven. It’s the perfect oven for it. It was designed and promoted to “Cook with the gas turned off!” It’s constructed with lots of heavy iron and insulation, so it stays hot for a long time after turning off the gas. I heated it up to about 100 degrees, shut of the gas, and put in the polyester-and-glass lasagna. By the next morning it had cured perfectly.

January 18, 2010

Boat work was limited today by a host of unrelated errands and obligations. Nonetheless, I dropped off the propane tanks to get them tested, certified, and new valves installed so they can be refilled. I also picked up resin, fiberglass, mold release, and a baking pan to mold a 2-inch-thick solid fiberglass platform to raise a new windlass into proper position. After dinner, I cut up the woven roving into a dozen or more 12 x 14 inch rectangles, layered them into the baking pan like a lasagna (two or three at a time), then mixed and poured several batches of resin into the mold. It got a bit hot, but ultimately cured fine.

January 17, 2010

I was anxious to find out if the windlass was repairable, so as soon as my morning cup of coffee brought me to consciousness, I was in the basement poking, prodding and dissecting. I connected a twelve volt current directly to the motor supply wires, but it still showed no signs of life. The dissection began in earnest. It quickly revealed a burned solenoid terminal and motor supply wire. Not a good sign. Testing with the ohm meter showed zero resistance through the motor, confirming it was fried (or is it “toast”?) as a result of an internal short. Motors can be rewound, but unless everything else was perfect, it wouldn’t be worth it in this case. Further examination revealed that all four of the cast iron mounting flanges for the motor/gear/gypsy assembly had broken. The patient was definitely terminal.
I spent the rest of the day fabricating and assembling a new teak louver and rabbeted trim piece to repair and replace broken parts on the aft cabin hanging locker door.

January 16, 2010

Up early and headed back to Napa Saturday morning. The weather forecast called for rain for the next two days, which was unfortunate since I had Monday off for the Martin Luther King holiday. Clearly it wasn’t an auspicious time to unwrap the mast and start on the mast wiring and radar installation projects. So, armed with my trusty volt-ohm meter and a big set of wrenches, my goal was to determine if the non-functioning windlass was getting current, and if so, to dismount it and bring it home for further diagnosis. Since it had been taking a beating from wind and sea on the bow of Circadian for some 35 years, it was no surprise that it wasn’t working. I just hoped it was something simple and cheap, since the manufacturer in England was long out of business and parts were pure unobtainium. In order to determine if current was reaching the windlass, I had to remove it from the deck to access the terminals on the bottom. Thanks to its previous removal when the decks were recently redone, it was surprisingly easy. I was thankful that Jessie was experienced enough to know not to use 3M 5200 as the sealant. It is such a strong adhesive that it is impossible to remove something bonded with it without a chisel and saw. It didn’t look too bad underneath where the electrical connections were housed, but the meter told me that current was getting past the switch and to the solenoid, so I knew something was wrong with either the solenoid (minor) or the motor (major or even terminal). I disconnected the wiring from the supply battery and then from the windlass so I could dismount it and bring it home. The damn thing was just as heavy as the gas-powered emergency pump, so I lowered it to the ground the same way I had the pump two days before.
I spent the rest of the day cleaning up, removing old foodstuffs from the galley, and off-loading the loose locker doors to bring them home for refurbishing. I covered up the holes in the deck resulting from the removal of the windlass with plastic sheeting. Having found a head manual online yesterday, I had brought a couple of gallons of pure water to flush down the head to push all the stinkies through the hoses into the holding tank. I did that and a few other minor chores and I was on my way home. As tired as I was when I got home, I had to get the heavy windlass and locker doors down into the basement before the rain arrived, so I found myself still a beast of burden well into the evening.

January 14, 2010

I awoke at 4:30 am, partly due to nervous excitement, and partly to arrive at Napa Valley Marina early in the morning. I knew the yard crew would want to get the boat off-loaded and on the stands right away, and Thomas would want to be on the road as soon as possible. I had heard from the marina that the truck had arrived the previous night after having some brake problems. I had also gotten an email from Thomas telling me he had arrived safe and sound, but had narrowly averted disaster. He said he would tell me about it when I arrived, so I was eager to get the full story and see for myself that Circadian was okay.
As I pulled in the drive at Napa Valley Marina, there was Circadian on the truck, with Thomas removing some of the securing straps. The whole scene was dramatically painted by the light of the rising sun as it burned through the morning fog. Thomas was just the tall, slim Texan I had imagined. Of course once I saw that Circadian was fine, I had to hear the story of what had happened.
It had been raining as Thomas was going over the notorious Grapevine pass in Southern California. One of his wipers wasn’t working properly, so he stopped to fix it. To access it, he had to move a control bar below the dash that was part of the air brakes system. When he closed up, he failed to move the bar back completely. That caused, unbeknownst to him, one of the brake shoes to drag on a drum on the trailer as he went down the long steep incline. When he heard the distinct bang of a blown tire, he recognized what it was and stopped to investigate. What he found was a left rear brake drum glowing orange hot. It had melted the tire rim, which caused the blowout. It was so hot he was afraid the tires might ignite. If the tires went, everything went. He knew his fire extinguisher would be useless, and frantically tried to find a source of water to cool the drum. He remembered the cooler full of drinking water he carried, and used that to gradually cool the drum. When everything cooled down, he changed the tire, repaired the brake and continued on his way. Disaster averted.
Now that the tale had been told, and questions from curious “yard rats” had been answered, it was time to get to work. The dinghy was put back on its davits, and the mast off-loaded with the crane. The travel lift straddled the truck and Circadian, and the big lifting straps were threaded under her belly. She was lifted off the truck, and the truck pulled out from under the boat. Ten minutes later, Circadian was resting on jack stands in the spot where she would remain for at least the next month or two.
My first priority was to look things over to make sure everything arrived intact and to find the items Cindy and Jessie loaded aboard after I had left for home. The forward cabin stank due to the closed up fridge and the disgusting unidentifiable slime growing in some water in the toilet. I opened all the hatches and tried pumping out the head. When I met some resistance on the pump handle, I decided I better not force it, but should wait until I read a manual to make sure I didn’t blow a hose and create a real disaster. As a stop gap, I poured some Pine Sol into the bowl and covered it with a sheet of plastic. I cleaned the fridge with the Pine Sol and took out all the removable bits for a good soaking in Clorox at home.
When the atmosphere was again breathable, I started surveying the cabin. The only casualty appeared to be the glass chimney and inverted oil burner from the hanging trawler lamp. I bummed a broom and dustpan from the chandlery and cleaned it up. The stripped out aft cabin was stuffed chock-a-block with gear that had been hastily stowed for Circadian’s move. There was barely room to stand inside, but it seemed everything was there. Because it was impossible to get to much of it, I won’t be able to determine just what I’ve got until I clear it out.
I was ready for a break, and it was lunch time, so I headed for my favorite local spot at Cuttings Wharf on the Napa River. No obnoxious wine tourists, good food and a great view. To top it off, there was sun and blue sky for the first time in more than a week. Surprisingly, it was even warm. I was enjoying the meal on the deck and casual conversation with a local architect, a couple who worked in a winery tasting room, an elderly woman from Sonoma, and three dogs, but it was time to get back to work.
Back at the yard, I decided to junk the old and musty, albeit “custom spring,” mattress in the v-berth, jettisoned it unceremoniously over the side, and hauled it to the dumpster. I found the gas-powered high-capacity emergency pump and associated hoses in the aft lazarette. It was a bit rusty, but looked like it might still run. It was also very heavy. Nonetheless, I decided to take it home, both to get it out of the way and to test it at my leisure later. I secured it to some half-inch line, wrestled it to the cap rail, and slowly lowered it the 10 feet to the ground using a belaying technique I had managed to dredge out of my old mountaineering memories. Lugging it to the truck and loading it was just plain grunt work.
I spent the last couple of hours of daylight covering the leaky hatches with the plastic sheeting and duct tape I had brought just for that purpose. I did some final tidying up, locked the companionway doors with new combination locks, and climbed down the ladder carrying a saloon cushion cover that was the victim of spilled oil from the trawler lamp. I took down the ladder and made a last visit to the “facilities” before wearily climbing into the truck for the hour-and-a-half drive home.

January 12, 2010

Thomas sends me pictures from outside of Tuscon. No snow.
He expects to arrive in Napa (the final destination) on Thursday, January 14 th.

January 8, 2010

Thomas sends me pictures of the rig waiting to get past a road closure due to snow and ice in Alabama, of all places!
Snow is visible on the truck fenders.

January 6, 2010

The mast has been pulled and prepped, Thomas Duncan, the trucking company’s owner/driver, had arrived from Texas, and the boat was loaded.

In the beginning….

I bought Circadian from Jesse and Cindy on December 17th, 2009.
She is a mid-seventies vintage Laurent Giles design called a Salar 40, built in England by Essex Yachts. Circadian, formerly known as Maris Stella was originally named after a Catholic mariners hymn dating back to the fifteenth century. She was sailed from England through the Mediterranean, to Africa, South America, and the Virgins before arriving in the United States in late 1978
In the following paragraphs, Jesse tells the story of how they came to own her and what they had done to her:
In the fall of 2005, I spotted the Salar 40 we now own. After stopping by to check on any progress, week after week, I began to inquire of the marina staff of her history. The owner was ill and lived in another state and was not available to care for her. She was not actively on the market as her owner had not given up his dream of sailing her again. The hull being solid glass laminate with no core material had been sandblasted from the waterline down and the topside paint had long since given up. But this boat had many ocean crossings and had been well equipped and was certainly capable of many more. Maris Stella, now renamed Circadian had been outfitted with every possible amenity available at the time. So as my wife was saying, No, No, No, the owner and I made a deal. My wife wrote the check and the seller walked away with the sad feeling of having to give up his dream. This was the start of many long days and nights of hard work just to remove the old damaged cushions, electronics, plumbing and wiring so that we could begin a complete restoration. We had the boat moved to our house which was only a short walk from the marina where we continued to remove the interior woodwork so my wife, Cindy could begin to strip and re-varnish it all. Since the bottom had been sand-blasted there was no anti-foul paint to contend with so we went straight to work applying three coats of “West System” epoxy followed by three coats of “Interlux 2000E epoxy barrier coat and then finally three coats of “West Marine” anti-fouling paint.
During this process, I replaced all of the sea-cocks with bronze ball valves, thru-bolted and screwed in the thru-hull fittings with 3M 5200 sealant. (She doesn’t leak) The engine, a 4236 Perkins expelled the exhaust out the starboard side of the hull. This I changed so that the exhaust now exits the stern. Since the idea of low maintenance was foremost in our minds (we actually wanted to go cruising one day) we decided to replace all of the old machinery with new units, so out with the old engine, transmission, fuel tanks, shaft, prop etc. The replacement engine is a new Beta Marine 50hp diesel with TCM 260 gear 2.5-1 which is extremely efficient, quiet and a side benefit is that is provides us with extra room in the engine room which allows us to provide maintenance with ease.
We replaced the 2 piece [prop shaft] with a single unit 1 1/2” X 7’ along with a new cutlass bearing, flexible shaft coupler and 3 blade Michigan Wheel 18” x 13” propeller. We replaced the steel fuel tanks with new polymer USCG approved units. Since we now had more available space in the engine room due to the smaller physical size of the Beta Marine 50hp diesel we also installed a 4KW genset, a hot water heater, battery charger, batteries and a 40 gallon holding tank, all in the engine bay. With the easy access, port and starboard cockpit hatches and the lift out cockpit hatch, the fuel system selector switches, filter and hoses are all easily accessible as are the sea strainer baskets and sea cocks.
While I was busy doing this, Cindy removed all of the topside paint and cracked gel-coat. We finished the topsides with 3 coats of epoxy and 3 coats of 545 epoxy primer which was followed by 3 coats of “Awlcraft” (made by Awlgrip) 3-part finish coat. The topsides came out so shiny that it was difficult to get a photograph because of the reflections from its surroundings.
Meanwhile, Cindy began the overwhelming job of removing all of the deck hardware and teak decking with the help of my best friend and his wife. You really know who your friends are when they are willing to spend their vacation helping you with your boat! We had decided not to replace the teak decking because of maintenance issues and instead replaced the deck with solid glass laminate, without coring. I made stainless steel bulwark stanchion braces that bolt directly to the side of the bulwarks and are up off the deck leaving clear waterways to the newly enlarged scuppers. The all glass deck is very firm and has a gel-coat non-skid finish.
I also made new stainless steel chain plates for the upper and lower shrouds. These also are bolted through the bulwarks and side of the house allowing clear passage down the side decks and no through the deck fittings. We installed a 3 burner with oven propane stove, a new and much larger stainless steel galley sink and a 12 volt refrigerator/freezer that fit neatly into the old ice box.
We installed a new Wilcox Crinton (sic) head and repainted the head and shower area. The cabin was so dark, with all the teak, so we opted to cover the bulkheads with textured white formica laminate and trimmed it in varnished teak. All new salon cushions and a new teak and holly sole really made a big difference.
The mast, boom and two reaching poles were all repainted. The rigging is no place to scrimp so we replaced all the standing rigging with oversized 1 x 19 wire with “stayloc” end fittings. We used open style turn-screws and also went up one size. All the running rigging has been replaced as well.
Our home port is Oriental, NC but we are currently cruising in Florida and have spent the past few months in the Florida Keys.

Critical health issues had driven Jessie to cut short the restoration effort and go cruising as soon as Circadian’s essential core systems were solid enough to allow it. When I flew to Charleston to see her, I found a boat with “good bones” that would require a lot of work before she was a finished boat. The decks and trunk cabin were still unpainted and full of imperfections. Wiring wasn’t finished; there were no ceilings and lots of missing wall panels, doors and trim; the portholes had been removed and sealed off with plywood from the inside and the propane tank installation was incomplete and dangerous. The engine compartment cover consisted of a sheet of plywood covered with carpet and the aft cabin was completely gutted and used for storage. The windlass didn’t work and the generator installation was never completed because Jessie had broken the manifold by stepping on it while getting into the engine compartment. Tragically, the beautiful new topsides paint had been scarred around the bow by the anchor chain when the boat was pushed against the chain by a contrary tide.
Despite the daunting amount of work that would await me, we made a deal and I began frenetically following up on the myriad interdependent arrangements for a survey, haulout, dismasting, loading, trucking and off-loading that I had begun weeks before. Ross Marine, the yard on Johns Island outside Charleston where the boat was hauled out, would be closed for the holidays until January 4th. The mast would be pulled and prepped within a few days after that.