June 29, 2014 – Funny how things come full circle, or almost anyway. When we first brought our boat to Burrard Yacht Club we started out in shed B59.
Over the past four years we have moved around a few times while jockeying first for a spot to put a slightly bigger boat that we thought we were going to buy, to then winning an outside slip to put that sailboat that was on the planned list.
Then we bought a new home, and priorities changed a bit. The sailboat went on the back burner, but we still had the powerboat for sale. But those changes in priorities come along when you aren’t always expecting them, and sometimes you just have to go with them.
We thought we had it sold, then the buyer, a young guy, probably discovered the costs associated with a boat this size and backed out.
Then we came down to the Club to have it inspected over Safety Weekend a couple of months ago and all the love associated with this floating oasis came flooding back.
I changed my mind, I didn’t want to sell her.
But a power boat is healthier and happier with a roof over its head, and so we started bidding on sheds again. And, two days and one month shy of four years later, of everywhere we could have ended up in the Club, we won a shed immediately next to our original slip. So hopefully a new chapter in boating will begin once we get a few somewhat major repairs sorted out.
Life is funny the way things come around.
Yesterday we finally had a chance to get down to the Club to move her into her new condo, both of us with a little bit of trepidation. She hadn’t moved in awhile, the last time we had her off the dock she stalled both engines out on us at a rather inopportune moment, not the first time she’d done it, but the problem had been getting worse over the years and it was a puzzle we’d been unable to solve. Usually she would can out on us in rough water (convenient), but lately she’d been becoming more and more finicky and had conked out in totally flat water, within the confines of a tight turn into the marina. Between that and steering that had been getting more and more difficult, we thought we’d had enough and that it was time for a new boat. But Chantelle apparently isn’t done with us yet.
She started up as she always does, easily and strongly. I went down to the new shed and ran some temporary lines to get her in with, chatted with a few friends, then back down to her current slip. We collected all the fenders, and removed all the lines, and backed her out.
So far so good.
A friend who knows the issues we’ve had stood on the dock asking if we wanted his help at all, we said no, we’ve managed a lot of harrowing experience with this boat, she’s not going to kill us in a marina at dead slow. Besides, we have twin motors, so as long as they are both running, we don’t need steering to maneuver anyway. Neither one of us has ever docked the boat using the steering wheel unless we’ve come in with a dead engine…. it’s happened of course. But with two engines you don’t need a steering wheel at low speed, you just engage and disengage and use one in reverse and one in forward to spin the vessel on its own axis. Works like a dream…most of the time. But in boating, there are ALWAYS exceptions.
Today wasn’t one.
We made the short journey down the marina and slid her neatly into her new home. It’s a tight fit, particularly because her hull flares widely and that means the permanent mooring lines have to be set carefully to hold her centred without too much room to move side to side, but not so tight that any damage can result in bad water. It’s a fine balance and tends to take me a good hour to get it all perfectly set before I’m happy enough to walk away. But the great thing is that once it’s done, it’s done and every time you come and go it’s as simple as slipping the lines on and off the cleats. No fenders to pull or drop. Clean and easy.
Except that she’s anything but clean right now.
After a year sitting out in the weather she’s green and filthy. Condensation and small leaks in the topside mean mustiness and streaks of grime in places inside too. All boats leak, it’s just a question of where. Old boats leak more. So now the cleaning begins. Algae and grime must be cleaned from the hull and the seams. The bilge will have a chance to dry out again since rain water won’t be finding its way in. Steel must be polished, windows cleaned, corroded things replaced. Carpet and upholstery must be cleaned and interior walls scoured of mildew. The dingy dinghy will finally be disposed of, the kayaks will be stored off the boat in the shed, and now that we are back under cover, we have a locker that we can store all those maintenance things that are in the boat, off the boat again.
Boats are a lot of work, but they are worthwhile work.
After we got her in her house and comfortably set, we were headed home for dinner and then planning on heading out for a movie.
But boats are fickle, and they like to have humans on their toes.
As we walked up the ramp towards the clubhouse I called out to a friend who was on shore and preparing to take his boat off the tidal grid. He gestured to me from across the grid, making a “do you have your camera” motion.
Of course I do, I always have a camera.
He told me to go up to the front of the grid and take some photos of the centre boat. When we got there, it wasn’t a good scene. All the bilge pumps on the vessel were spewing at full stream and an emergency pump was pouring water out over the deck from the engine house. The couple on the boat were looking over the edge with worry. When I asked what happened Jim said that they had had some hull repairs done in a previous year and that when they put it on the grid, the weight of the boat crushed the keel repair. Their keel is hollow, and now water was pouring into their engine room. The pumps weren’t keeping up and as the tide came in it was lifting the front of the boat and the water level was increasing in the stern.
The other two boats on the grid pulled out and the next to use it were asked to hold off. We all batted around various options, and a gas powered pump was taken aboard that had the capacity to pump 300 gallons/minute. So now that they had the ability to hopefully pump out faster than water would come in, the next hurdle was to get the boat around to a nearby marina and haul it out on a pontoon lift. Another club member went aboard to help them while they managed the boat and provide some comfort and advice. Kirk and I took our vehicle around to the other marina to wait for them and pick him up.
Eventually they came around the corner slowly, and we could see that the waterline level was holding well. Frank had had to get the captain to slow the boat down on the way as the water was coming in to fast. Emotional logic says that getting from A to B faster is better, but not when you are dealing with incoming water. Extra force just increases pressure and increases the risk.
They were safely hauled out and water poured out of the damaged keel. But everyone was safe.
Boats are wonderful things when they don’t have your nerves stretched taut. Worse in their case, since it is also their home.
The boat owners thanked us for our moral support, and then said, “We don’t even know your names!”.
That’s the really fabulous thing about boaters, it’s a community, regardless of whether you know each other or not. It’s easy to get out of a car when something goes wrong, not so a boat. And that leads to an unspoken code that leads everyone to always look out for everyone else. With boating, it’s not “if” something will go wrong, it’s simply “when”. And for that reason I always find it comforting to know that if another boater is nearby, there is a significant probability that they will help us in a time of need. We’ve both provided and received assistance out on the water, here and abroad.
As I walked back to the truck and passed the fellow who manages our docks we smiled at each other and I said sarcastically, “Boating is FUN!” We both laughed. I so often have people who don’t boat say they are jealous and that we are so lucky to have a boat, it must be so relaxing. We are lucky to have a boat, but it’s a lot of work owning it, and it’s always in the back of your mind. In every snowstorm you wonder if the shed is lowering. In every windstorm you wonder if your lines are holding. We’ve been down at the docks in the middle of the night, in sheeting rain and howling winds, trying to regain control of a tarp that is trying to rip cleats out of the hull and retying lines to mitigate the threat of hulls smashing together.
But the good times are so great. The times that you find yourself anchored is a secluded bay, with something wonderful grilling on the BBQ, and fresh caught crab steaming in the pot, and a glass of wine in hand… those are the times that you are grateful you made a stupid decision and bought a floating money pit.
Boating really IS awesome.
Honestly!