I never did find out why Appledore Belle’s Petter engine refused to start at lift-out time October 2008. Quite frankly I had had enough of it, and decided that, even though I could not really afford it, I should try to find a suitable replacement engine. Now the space in a Rowan’s engine compartment is very limited, especially in height. I looked on Ebay and elsewhere for some time trying to find a small diesel which would fit. Each time I saw one for sale I ‘Googled’ it, to find out what I could about its pros and cons. Almost all the suitable engines were either old and therefore probably unreliable, or perhaps rebuilt, and therefore quite expensive. Also, I had the problem of being ashore nowhere near a boatyard, and having to find an engine that might fit the existing bearers, not to mention aligning with the propshaft and so on. This saga went on throughout the Winter months, and I had visions of being back in the river with just my outboard for motoring. Towards the end of February I found a Petter Mini 6 engine for sale on Ebay. I watched it for a few days, and there was no bidding. The owner was asking a £399 start price, and I’ve notice previously that intended bidders sometimes leave it to the last moment before making a bid. I decided to ask the seller if he would be prepared to remove it from sale (as there were no bidders at this time), and I would pay him cash for it. He emailed me back and we had a good conversation on the ‘phone. So that was done, a private sale for £350 and all we had to do was collect it from Weymouth. My son and I went to Weymouth on 1st March and loaded up the engine, which was out of a 26 footer. The owner was having a new engine fitted, and said that his father, having been an engineer, had done lots of work on the engine, including fitting a replacement cylinder block and piston. I noted form the paperwork that came with the engine that the block in itself cost well over £300 when new. It was a good day out and being a Sunday not too much traffic on the road. In just a few hours we were home and the engine was sitting outside my back door, suitably covered up.
The following week I went to the boat and started to undo the various nuts and bolts that held the old engine in place. Three of the four engine bearer bolts came out ok, but one of them was just turning in its rubber bush, and this one took some time to remove as I had to undo the two securing bolts first. Of course this had to be one of the rear bearing bolts and more difficult to get to than those at the front end. The Morse cable, and other fittings, pipes and so on were removed quite easily, along with the exhaust system. The engine was now free from its bearings and other fittings and now I had to get it into the cabin. I had with me several bits of wood – short planks and thicker timbers, a large wooden wedge and two pieced of square steel tube, about a meter in length. With these bits of ‘Meccano’ I propped up the engine and started to heave it along the steel runners. It moved! Very slowly it came towards the cabin until it eventually stopped, due to the flywheel casing fouling the forward top edge of the bilge. It would have been easier with a second person lifting at the rear end, but eventually I eased the engine up and cleared the obstruction. That was it, it was now free and inside the cabin. Next task was to lift it out of the boat and bring it home.
A few days later my son and I returned with a block and tackle, some stout timbers and a couple of short scaffold-type planks. We also took down several pieces of a scaffold tower, and assembled the sections to form a tower which reached up just higher than the cockpit side. With 2 lengths of timber over the companionway roof, we quickly lifted the engine up as far as we could, and slid it out of the doorway and onto the two scaffold planks. It was quite easy to push it along the planks and inside the tower, where, using the block and tackle, we lowered it to the ground. The whole thing took us just over an hour. The two of us easily lifted it into the boot of my son’s car, and we bought it home, where it still is, suitably covered up, in case I needed some spare bits off it. As for the replacement engine, I got the son of a workmate of mine to check it over. He said it looked fine, and he’d had it running but only for a short time as nothing was connected up properly. He said compression seemed fine, and I was pleased about that!
I now only had a couple of weeks before lift-in, and had to get this engine fitted. There were a few modifications that I had to do. Coming out of a different boat not all the controls were the same. The Morse control cable was not right, and I had to make up a small brass bracket for this. The decompressor cable bracket was the wrong way up, and this was easily reversed, and there was no way of securing the throttle cable, which on the old engine was clamped to a bracket underneath the fuel lift pump. That wasn’t a problem because I just removed the bracket and clamp from the old engine and fitted it to the new one. Job done. The other problem area was with the two rear bearing brackets. I had to remove them from the old engine and fit them to the other one. Again. No problem, but it could have contributed to a problem that developed later on. Getting it into the boat was almost the opposite of its removal, and then it was just a matter of shoving the engine into place and connecting up all the bits and pieces. Three of the four engine bearing bolts aligned very well, but the last one (always one isn’t there?) need a little bit of coaxing. One thing that I had to do was to bend up the bracket underneath the fuel lift pump as the newer one was slightly different, and the bracket for the throttle cable was too low. One thing that this did was to cover the heads of the two Allen screws that came loose previously , and therefore hopefully prevent the same from happening again.
I had run out of hours for that day, and left connecting up the electrics until the following day. The first thing I did was to connect up the positive lead to the starter motor. I thought I’d just turn the key quickly to ensure there was power to the engine. To my astonishment the engine started up immediately. Nothing was connected, no throttle, fuel pipe, water pipe or even the de-compressor cable. But very quickly I decompressed the engine, and sat back in amazement. The final job was to reconnect the prop shaft to the gearbox coupling, and this seemed to be quite straightforward – or so I thought.
I had to alter the exhaust system on the replacement engine. The old one had a length of Vetus hose connected from the exhaust bend (from the engine)and the other end connected to the water trap. The hose was not in particularly good condition, and had been cut in half at some time, and another joint made in it. On the replacement engine there was a length of galvanised pipe fitted, about 16 inches in length and I thought this would connect to the water trap with the addition of a couple of suitable bends, which I purchased locally. This pipe fouled the end of the angle iron engine bearer, so I had to cut a piece off this with the angle grinder. However, this arrangement was to become a problem later.
I should at this stage mention something that could be of benefit to other Rowan owners. Although I have mentioned this previously, some of you may be wondering how I managed to reach the back end of the engine, prop shaft and so on. Well, I have no idea when or by whom, but at some time in her early life Appledore Belle had major surgery to her cockpit floor. I have a wonderful hinged floor, that lifts up and allows access to everything underneath. It’s easy to get at the cockpit drains, prop shaft greaser and so on. I even made a small platform right at the rear on which I keep my kedge anchor and warps. I’m not sure just how many other Rowans might have this modification, but reading the various boating magazine articles, I’ve not seen it mentioned. The original GRP floor has been cut away, and a marine ply cover fitted in its place. I have recently glued a piece of Treadmaster onto the cover as an added bit of protection and, most importantly, to reduce the risk of slipping on wet wood.
When I collected the engine from Weymouth the seller also gave me a box of bits and bobs. Amongst the contents was a used, but in very good condition, Morse control, exactly the same as mine. I knew that mine had some corrosion on it, but it wasn’t until I tried to remove it that I realised the extent of this. I had to cut two of the 4 bolts off as it was impossible to undo them, When I got the control off , the corrosion was so bad that it virtually fell to pieces! Suitably greased and painted, I easily fitted the other one. I have tried searching for a similar one on Ebay and elsewhere just to get some idea of replacement costs, but haven’t been able to find one. I have a feeling that even if I could have found one, they are quite expensive. So I think I was quite lucky there.
Mast Matters
Those of you who read the previous instalment will remember the trouble I had with the headsails. I just did not fancy lowering the mast again, and wondered if perhaps I could borrow a very long ladder from someone living near to the club, and use this to get up the mast. Silly idea, I know, but only last month in one of the boating magazines I actually saw a picture that someone had sent in of a yacht with a ladder up the mast! Anyway, I spent lots of time searching on Ebay, and around December 2008 I found an item for sale that I thought might be just the answer. This is a ‘Topclimber’, and is a way of reaching the very top of the mast without assistance! There was also one of those mast ladders that you slide up the mast, hauled up by the main halyard. I didn’t really fancy a vertical climb, so looked towards the Topclimber, with a start price of £71. I watched this all week, and eventually bought it, being the only bidder, and the seller lived in Plymouth. Unfortunately I couldn’t collect it at that time, so paid a few pounds for postage. I’ve seen more of these on
Ebay, and they all went for much more than I paid, and mine was actually unused. The shop price is about £230., my advice would be to watch out for a new or lightly used one on Ebay. The only thing you have to buy is a dedicated climbing line - braid on braid, 10 mm diameter. Again, I was lucky to find an 11 meter length on Ebay for a fiver! I won’t bore you with the details of its use except to say that you secure one end to your main halyard, and the other to a strong point on the foredeck. I actually used both main and jib halyards, for added security (you can read about it here - http://www.ybw.com/forums/showthread.php?t=57519, and see a video of it here - http://shop.shamrock.co.uk/topclimber-224-p.asp ) . It’s a bit daunting to say the least, when you first start your ascent, but once you realise your feet are off the deck it’s just a matter of using the climbing technique to get further up the mast. As I said, unlike a Bosun’s Chair, you propel yourself up the mast, and you can rest at any time, not worrying that your helper might relax the turns on the winch! Once past the spreaders, life gets a little more difficult due to anything fitted onto the mast, and of course all the shrouds and stays that come together at the masthead. I also used a harness and strap which I could wrap around the mast to make working up there a little less nerve-wracking.
As you will appreciate, working up the mast is not for everyone, and you also must ensure that anyone on the ground stands well away from beneath you. Dropping a pair of pliers could be fatal! Also, don’t be tempted to put stuff in your pockets as you will find it very difficult to get your hands into your pockets, due to the harness. I put all my tools and things into a small rucksack which I tied to a spare jib halyard, which I then raised to the masthead. This wasn’t that successful because for one thing the rucksack kept fouling everything on the way up, and secondly, I couldn’t easily see anything in the bag, meaning that I had to grope my way around inside. And in doing so, I made a hole in the sealing compound that I intended to use. This got so sticky that I had to come down, clean everything up, and start again. I will be going up there again when the weather improves (Feb 2010), and this time I will try using a small bucket and the topping lift. This should give me a clearer run up the mast, and with the bucket I will be able to find my tools.
So now having advised you what to buy (you should also read Practical Boat Owner November 2009 issue), the question remains of why I had to climb the mast. Hindsight is a remarkable thing. I think we have all acted differently before we did something, and even more so if there was any element of doubt. When Appledore Belle was wrecked in 1998 her furling Genoa was shredded although the furling gear was intact. She had three hank-on foresails, and therefore I had a new forestay made, which I fitted to the masthead some years ago. No problems there, but when I eventually purchased a furling Genoa I found that the two forestays seemed to foul one another at the mast head. To get around this I released the hank-on forestay and lead it down the mast, lashing the end to an eye fitted on the foredeck. This appeared to keep the two wires apart, but when we were caught out in the bad weather off Guernsey they somehow started to foul, as did the jib halyard even though they were tightly hauled in. When I reached the masthead I could see what had happened, but never expected to see what I did. The photo I took at the mast head is not clear enough to print here, but the picture of the forestay itself will be clear enough! The hanked forestay had twisted itself around the furling forestay about three times, and bent itself back about 8 inches. The more I had tried to unfurl the Genoa, the tighter the other forestay had wound itself around the other. Remember that the eye of the forestay was attached to the masthead and the longer section is part of the forestay running down the mast to the foredeck. It was easy enough to unwind one from the other which left the furling forestay free to use with safety.
The question now was how to prevent this happening again? Thinking about fractional rigs I knew there must be a fitting for the mast that would allow me to reduce the height of the hank forestay, so off I went to the mast makers in Plymouth, who sold me a pair of butterfly brackets. These are ‘handed’, and fit inside a vertical slot cut into the mast. They are then pop riveted and the outer edges bolted together. The pair cost me £15. The next job was to cut the slot in the mast, so I found a thin cutting disc for the small angle grinder and practised at home on a piece of old steel drainpipe. This seemed to work ok, but I was at ground level and cutting the pipe whilst it was laying flat! With the generator and everything else loaded into the car my wife and I returned to the boat. Having rigged the Topclimber, and with my tape measure and marker pen with me, and with the angle grinder plugged in to the generator and tied onto the topping lift, I ascended the mast. I found it took a little bit of courage to actually let go of everything whilst at the top of the mast, but I had to push myself off with my feet in order to mark the cutting area. This was straightforward, and I made the mark about 8 inches below the masthead. The next job was to actually cut the slot. After hoisting up the angle grinder, my wife fired up the generator, and I pushed myself away from the mast as best I could although the furling forestay was a bit of a nuisance. Once I had found my balance, it was a relatively easy job to cut into the mast, making a slot about 3 inches long just over a quarter of an inch wide. I did have to work on this slot with a small file before I could get both brackets inside. I had been told the way to mark for drilling the three pop rivet holes was to place one bracket inside the slot, and whilst holding the other next to it, mark the drill holes onto the mast. This is a three-handed job and unfortunately, whilst holding one of them, I let go of the other one, and, well you’ve guessed, it fell inside the mast, and there was no way of retrieving it! Nothing else for it other than to buy another bracket. It was a few months since I bought the first pair, and now I was told that I couldn’t buy just one, as they were sold in pairs. And the price was now £20 for the pair. So, in total that was £35! When I explained to the salesman what had happened, he suggested I tie a piece of cord to one bracket and secure the other end to myself to prevent the same thing happening again. So, with a little bit of effort, I did this, and leaning backwards slightly was able to tension the cord sufficiently to be able to let go of the bracket, and offer the other one up to it, and mark for the drill holes. Easy really, especially when you’re swinging on a rope 30 feet above the ground, haha! Drilling the holes was another problem as the drill itself kept fouling the forestay, and each time I tried to level the drill, I found myself moving off-centre, but eventually I drilled the holes. Pop-riveting should have been child’s play, but it wasn’t! I managed two rivets, but then the pop riveter jammed up and I had a job to remove it from the rivet. Eventually I did manage both brackets, but I have to invest in a new riveter. Obviously, the job would have been far easier had the mast been down at the time. I suppose I used that Topclimber a dozen times before the boat went back into the water, and each time my confidence grew, so I can thoroughly recommend it to anyone.
Summer Sailings
The boats were lifted in on Easter Saturday, and I was beginning to look forward to some quality sailing time this year, however a couple of weeks later my co-worker broke 2 fingers and was off work for about a month, meaning that I had to cover full-time for him. So the first time I could actually use the boat was to be on a Sunday towards the end of May. This was our Yacht Club Strawberry Rally, where as many boats as possible headed down towards Plymouth and, hopefully, ended up at anchor off Cawsand. Having reached our destination, the plan was a pub lunch ashore, followed by strawberries and cream back aboard the boats. My son, Antony, and a friend were to accompany me. It was a great day, sunny and warm, but little wind. Antony and I went to collect the other team member, but he wasn’t at home. We waited quite a while for him as he had told me previously that he was going to be out the night before, so I assumed he was on his way and running late. Eventually I decided that we couldn’t wait any longer, put a note through his door, suggesting that he might meet us at Cawsand, and we left for the boat. The delay had made us late to catch the top of the ebb tide, and by the time we got everything ready aboard, we were perhaps an hour later than I had hoped for. With the engine running nicely, we slipped our mooring, and headed down river. The river is very wide in parts, but there are extensive mud flats to watch out for, not to mention a mussel bank which dries at LW Springs, in the middle. We were doing about 5 knots I suppose, with the tide, and checking that everything was ok. Antony was below, checking the engine, and I kept peering over the stern, checking the exhaust and cooling water. We found ourselves in the middle of the river, where it is quite wide, and I noticed some disturbance ahead of us. Thinking that this was the mussel bed I altered course to port, and we came to an abrupt halt! Shoving the engine into reverse did nothing but stir up the mud. I just could not believe it! I had been looking forward to this club rally since the previous one the year before, and it was just such a great day to be out. Well, I guessed we’d be stuck there for 3 hours or so, and, yes, we were!
Appledore Belle has a long keel, and at first we remained upright. We could see the Royal Albert bridge at Saltash, and our mast remained in a vertical line with the bridge columns for a while, but slowly we canted over to port. It was rather surreal, very slowly moving, with some creaking and the occasional crashing of something onto the cabin floor. I thought rather like a mini Titanic! After an hour or so we were over at about 45 degrees, the mud and mussel beds visible all around us even though we had been in the middle of the river. I did log the position, and later on at home plotted this on a chart to find that just a few feet to starboard and we would have missed the mud altogether! I noted that other boats had also been here before – by the shallow trenches cut into the mud! So, there we were, eating our strawberries and drinking orange juice, watching other boats cautiously passing us and no doubt having a bit of a giggle.
Time passed, and I knew that when the tide turned, there was a fair chance the wind would pick up and we would begin to float, only to be blown onto the mud banks behind us. Therefore I got the anchor ready, and as soon as there was sufficient water I got into the inflatable, manoeuvred to the bow, and Antony carefully lowered the anchor and several meters of chain. The water rose surprisingly fast, and with it the wind. I had quite a job to row against both wind and tide, dragging with me a length of chain, but eventually I thought I was far enough away, and dropped the anchor overboard. Returning to the boat, we waited for the tide to rise sufficiently to get us afloat, and started the engine. We eventually were able to kedge ourselves off, using the engine, but it wasn’t an easy job, with the fast ebb tide and the now very strong wind trying to take us back onto the mud banks behind. We broke free, and entered deeper water , but by now it was too late to even consider going down to Plymouth, let alone Cawsand, some 8 miles away. We motored down river a short way, and then the engine started vibrating and making very nasty noises. What had happened was that the exhaust elbow had worked loose, probably due to our high revving in trying to break out of the mud, and the galvanised pipe extension was knocking on the engine bearer! Outboard to the rescue once again, and within a short time we were on our mooring. I removed the exhaust pipe and took it home, where later I cut off the extension piece, leaving only the bend and a union piece on the end. £35 bought me a meter length of Vetus 45 mm hose, which I fitted some time later. And I heard later that there were about 16 yachts from Cargreen at anchor off Cawsand and they had a thoroughly enjoyable Strawberry Rally!
Time passed, and I knew that when the tide turned, there was a fair chance the wind would pick up and we would begin to float, only to be blown onto the mud banks behind us. Therefore I got the anchor ready, and as soon as there was sufficient water I got into the inflatable, manoeuvred to the bow, and Antony carefully lowered the anchor and several meters of chain. The water rose surprisingly fast, and with it the wind. I had quite a job to row against both wind and tide, dragging with me a length of chain, but eventually I thought I was far enough away, and dropped the anchor overboard. Returning to the boat, we waited for the tide to rise sufficiently to get us afloat, and started the engine. We eventually were able to kedge ourselves off, using the engine, but it wasn’t an easy job, with the fast ebb tide and the now very strong wind trying to take us back onto the mud banks behind. We broke free, and entered deeper water , but by now it was too late to even consider going down to Plymouth, let alone Cawsand, some 8 miles away. We motored down river a short way, and then the engine started vibrating and making very nasty noises. What had happened was that the exhaust elbow had worked loose, probably due to our high revving in trying to break out of the mud, and the galvanised pipe extension was knocking on the engine bearer! Outboard to the rescue once again, and within a short time we were on our mooring. I removed the exhaust pipe and took it home, where later I cut off the extension piece, leaving only the bend and a union piece on the end. £35 bought me a meter length of Vetus 45 mm hose, which I fitted some time later. And I heard later that there were about 16 yachts from Cargreen at anchor off Cawsand and they had a thoroughly enjoyable Strawberry Rally!
The last two weeks of June saw me busy haymaking, to make feed for our horse, so we were now into July. An Email from our yacht club cruising officer asked if anyone was interested in cruising in company to Brittany in early July, so I volunteered as crew with the cruising officer, and we had just less than a week away, sheltering from a gale the first night in Newton Ferrers, and reaching Treguier on the Monday morning. The intention was to visit one or perhaps two other Brittany towns, but the weather turned again, and it was late on Wednesday before we were able to make a dash across the Channel towards Plymouth. Reaching Plymouth Thursday late afternoon, the weather turned nasty again with poor visibility and rain, and having kept quite dry on the crossing, by the time we moored at Cargreen we were soaking wet.
Whilst in France I had kept in touch with my wife and she re-assured me that everything was ok. I had previously cleared it with my co-worker that if I was delayed in France he would cover for me on the Friday. It had also been my intention to return to Plymouth on the Roscoff ferry if the weather had remained foul. As time passed and there appeared to be no weather window, I had asked my wife to contact my co-worker to see if he might also cover for me on the Saturday, which, I was assured, he would do. That would give me another week in which to get back home. Now I was home, and my wife met me at the yacht club, and I loaded up my gear into the car, happy to be home, but also a bit sad that our Brittany trip was now in the past. Treguier was a wonderful place, quite small but full of pleasant shops and restaurants of course, and attractive old buildings, especially the ancient cathedral, dating from the 11th Century. Now on my way home in the car I asked my wife if she had been speaking with the manager at my place of work, or just my co-worker. Mary said she had been speaking to my manager all the time, but had been told not to tell me what had been going on, so that I wouldn’t rush to return to work. She then told me that on the Saturday that we left Plymouth my co-worker had been involved in a serious head-on collision with an articulated lorry on his way to work. He had been hospitalised, and had some quite nasty injuries, including a broken collar bone. Can you guess the rest? Yes, that’s right, I then had to cover for him yet again, and this went on until the end of September. Two weeks later the boats were craned out of the river for the Winter.
So that was the eventful Summer I had, but it didn’t include using my own boat more than one other trip down to Cawsand one Sunday.
Finally to Cawsand
The last suitably high tide before the Autumn lift-out was Sunday 4th October. My son Antony and I, together with an eager young man who works part time with me, left Cargreen on the ebb tide, on a very overcast day. It was quite mild, and there was plenty of rain around but luckily we missed all of it. Having now ‘re-plumbed’ the engine exhaust, and checked everything that I could, we motored off down the river. During the latter part of the Summer I had purchased a digital depth sounder, to replace the spinning NASA one that I had, so now I was easily able to keep my eye on this, and avoid both the mud banks on the Devon side, and the mussel bank in the middle of the river.
Even before we reached Saltash the tide was slack, and the engine seemed to be vibrating a great deal if I used more than half revs. By the time we got to Devonport the tide had well and truly turned, but there was now a little wind, and we were able to use the furling genoa to help us along. Anyone who knows Plymouth Sound will be aware of a narrow passage between Drake’s Island and the Cornish mainland known as ‘The Bridge’, either side of which there are nasty rocks. A hundred meters or so before The Bridge I detected a difference in the engine, and quickly discovered the alternator had worked loose – almost certainly due to the vibrations – and the top bolt had disappeared into the bilge water! As we were in no immediate danger, or hindering other boats, we shut the engine down, and within literally a couple of minutes I had found a suitable nut and bolt, and had the alternator back in place, and the drive belt tensioned again. The tide was now surging through the channel, and I almost decided to abandon the rest of the trip, even with Cawsand Bay in sight. Hanging on the transom was, of course, our 3.5 hp Tohatsu outboard, so with a couple of pulls it started, and we used both engines to pass through the channel and into The Sound proper. Within a little while we were off Cawsand but decided against going ashore as there was now not too much time left, so we cut the engines, and just wallowed in the water, keeping a good lookout for any other craft heading our way. We had our lunch and thoroughly enjoyed just sitting around for about half an hour, before starting the main engine, unfurling the genoa, and turning back towards Devonport. We had an uneventful trip back to Cargreen, but at Saltash the wind dropped, and we furled the sail. The engine still didn’t like any extra revs, but we were with the flood tide, and so it really didn’t matter too much. I did wonder – and had hoped – that perhaps the propeller was heavily fouled with barnacles, which would cause some vibration, but this turned out not to be the reason.
Lift-out Day
So that was the end of the Summer’s sailing events, and Appledore Belle was to be lifted out on October 18th at just after 7 in the morning. Previous lift-ins and outs have been undertaken in one go, usually late afternoon and early evening, but suitable high waters for lift–out this year were not good and we had to wait until mid-October for a suitably high tide, and that was just after 6 pm on the Saturday, and 6.30 am on the Sunday. The plan was to lift half of the boats, mainly bilge keelers, on the Saturday, and the rest of us on Sunday, starting at 6.30 am. The difficulty on the Sunday being that it would be totally dark still, and the deepest keeled boats in first. I was keeping my fingers crossed that I might be lifted out as the last boat on Saturday evening, but one boat got the lifting strops caught underneath it, on the falling tide, and by the time this had been got free, and she and two others had been lifted, it was too dark!
I spent the night aboard, moored in the river, and what a bad night it was. Not really the weather, but I had exceptionally bad indigestion, which caused me to have backache all through the night. It was a bitterly cold night, no moon at all, and I had to keep getting out of my bunk to relieve myself of the backache, so I had very little rest. I finally got up at about 5.30 am, and at 6 am I was ashore, waiting for the first larger yacht to come in. She came in just before 6.30, followed by a smaller yacht, which should have been followed by a large and heavily built wooden motor boat. All these boats, as you will be aware, have to be placed in an exact order to allow the crane to manoeuvre. I was due in after the motor boat, but word came that the owner couldn’t start the engine due to a flat battery. I was asked if I would take out one of those battery booster starters, which I duly did, in my little GRP rowing boat. It was no good, however, as the engine wouldn’t start, nor even turn over. The owner had a 5 HP Seagull on the transom, and I asked her and her son if they had tried using that. Well, no they hadn’t and they didn’t actually know how to release it into the water, or even start it. Also, the fuel had been in its tank since last summer at least!
Realising that the tide was now falling quite rapidly, I had to return to Appledore Belle, and get her into the creek in readiness for lifting, which I did, along with Antony, who had driven down to be there that morning. We were eventually lifted out and placed on our spot without incident. Soon afterwards we noticed the large motor boat had been towed into the creek by a small yacht, but the owner had not been paying attention to the channel, marked with withies, and gone aground on the mud. Fortunately the remaining boats managed to navigate around her, and all were eventually lifted out. I had intended to wash our hull down before going home, to remove the wet mud, but I felt so cold and unwell that I had to leave that for another day. The grounded motor boat was eventually lifted out on the evening tide at great expense to her owner! (the photo is of one of the other yachts being lifted out on the evening tide).
Propeller Shafts and Bearings
Whilst the weather was still mild I thought I would take a good look at the propeller shaft system. When the boats were being lifted out I took a close look at some of their propellers, and did find some to be heavily encrusted with barnacles. When Appledore Belle was lifted out I noticed that she was relatively free of barnacles, but found there was some play in the propeller shaft and stern bearing. I decided now was the time to do some more repairs. A week or so later I returned to the boat to remove the rudder, which I had noticed had some wear in the tiller mounting which consists of a stout stainless steel plate either side, with a bolt through the top. I brought the rudder home and made a bronze bush which I inserted into the elongated hole in the top of the rudder. But first I rounded it off by finding a suitable length of copper tube, getting it red hot, ant pushing it through the hole. This worked very well, and it was just a matter then of filling the hole with mastic, and tapping the new bush through, then bolting it all together. Job done!
The next job was removal of the propeller and stern bearing, and I had no real idea how to do this, nor just how difficult it might be. Armed with a propane gas burner, cold chisel, club hammer, and an assortment of other tools, I first tacked the propeller retaining nut. This had a grub screw in it, which easily undid, as did the nut, with the aid of Stillsons on the shaft to stop it moving. Next the propeller, which fell off after a couple of taps with a small hammer. The shaft key came out easily with the aid of the small chisel. The two nuts on each of the bearing retaining screws came off very easily too, and this left the screws loose, and I just pushed them back and clear of the bearing. This unscrewed easily, with some help from the Stillsons. I could see that there was some wear on the stainless steel shaft, and my micrometer showed this to be about 8 thou. There would probably also be some wear on the bearing, which I discovered to be of Teflon.
The next job was to be the removal of the prop shaft coupling at the gearbox end. This proved to be anything but easy! There is very little room in the bowels of a Rowan, as I mentioned before, and just how most Rowan owners manage I hate to think! Anyway, removed the nuts form the coupling and withdrew the bolts, noticing as I did this that the two halves of the coupling were not in alignment by at least a couple of millimetres! I now believe that this was the major cause of the engine vibration experienced whilst underway. Obviously the more revs I applied, and the faster the propshaft rotated, the more the engine would vibrate. At the start of this article I mentioned that on replacing the engine, one of the mounting bolts was a bit difficult to get in place, and I believe that once the engine was in place, this last bolt may have contributed to the engine moving a little off-centre. I don’t see this as a problem because I can quite easily enlarge the bolt holes for the engine mounting bearing itself. There could also be a misalignment in height too, because I did have to change the two rear mounting brackets, which I may not have fitted at the same level as the old engine. This may mean fitting thin shims either forward or aft, in order to raise or lower the gearbox and coupling. Although I will have done this by the time you, the readers read this, I’ll not be able to test the results properly until the boat is back in the water, probably early April 2010.
It proved impossible to drive out the stainless steel roll pin from the prop shaft coupling, and even if I had removed it, I very much doubt I would have been able to remove the coupling because there is just not enough room to use a hammer or anything else to drive it off the end. The only answer was to use a hacksaw and cut through the propshaft. Having reconnected the two parts of the coupling, I began sawing through the ¾ inch thick stainless steel shaft. This took some time, not least because I had to reverse the blade in the saw – teeth innermost –and cut through it with the saw inside the shaft so to speak, Putting the engine into gear prevented the shaft from turning, and I cut through a little way, disengaged, turned the shaft, re-engaged and cut again, doing this until I’d cut all the way round, and the shaft slid down the stern tube. Returning home with the two pieced of shaft, I found that even using a strong vice and hardened steel punch I couldn’t drive the roll pin out. Only one thing for it, so I lit the lounge wood burner, placed the stub end of shaft and coupling in the fire, and within a few minutes it was glowing red hot. I quenched this in cold water, and gave it another burst of the same treatment, before clamping it in the vice again, and this time the pin came out easily. Turning the coupling upside down in the vice I was able to punch out the cut propeller shaft, and remove the key.
There are plenty of suppliers of marine grade stainless steel bar, and for a meter length I paid £25, including delivery.I thought long and hard about how I would get the propeller taper machined, as my own lathe is too small for the headstock to take the ¾ inch bar. I could easily mill the two keyways, but the propeller nut thread would be another matter. The penny soon dropped! I belong to a model engineering society here in North Cornwall, and one of our ‘senior’ members has built two rather large traction engines. As soon as I mentioned my situation to Gordon, he agreed without hesitation to do the work for me. We haven’t discussed a price, but he won’t charge nearly so much as a marine engineer might!
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