Sooo... we're taking on water (June 1, 2023)

Feeling proud of ourselves for being ahead of schedule, Lori booked us a nice slip in Waukegan, IL, a 50 mile jaunt south of Milwaukee that would put us in easy range of Chicago. I had my morning video calls for work (Starlink satellite internet installed by our kids still working fine) and we prepared to leave our nice spot on the end of F-Dock at about 10am. The wind was nil, so we weren't worried about departing with just the two of us. It was sure nice to have had the extra crew earlier, but I was able to clear the lines myself and shove the Perseverance sideways out into the marina exit channel so that Lori could just slip the boat into forward gear and wend our way out.

We putted along till we got clear of the becalmed sailboats, then exited the harbor. After I had heaved in all the fenders, Lori set the speed and autopilot. We were about 1/4 mile clear of the harbor when I went below to check the engine room. At this point, the day got decidedly worse.

Generally when underway the engine room is noisy, but not unpleasant. It is now EXCEEDINGLY well lit after Kent's winter makeover (replacing 13.5 amps worth of so-so fluorescents with 0.5 amps of much brighter LED lamps). The diesel draws air into the engine room through side louvers well above the waterline, and the air has always been quite fresh, even when running hard. Not this time. I opened the door into a haze of choking fumes. We had noticed some fumes after our last run, but erroneously chalked it up to a long day of running pretty hard with a tail wind that blew our fumes back aboard. This time it was way worse. I soldiered on into the engine room and soon noticed that not only were fumes being injected into the engine room, there was a moderate geyser of water shooting out of our brand-spankin' new shiny water-lift muffler. I took some quick video and a photo, then went up to inform Lori of the situation, which I did incorrectly.

Now Lori is developing into an excellent skipper. She is getting to the point where she can slide the Perseverance around tight corners and drive it sideways when necessary, even with unfavorable wind. She's also unafraid to abort when appropriate so that we can try another approach. I wouldn't say that she's serene while docking (generally the most challenging maneuver), 'cause I can hear her making curious little nervous noises over our headphone radios. But she is reasonably calm and doesn't rattle easily. Nevertheless, when I knew what the next words out of my mouth were going to be, I SHOULD have first asked her to step away from the helm, then I should have made her sit on the floor cross legged and fold her hands, and THEN I should have told her "yeah, so we're kinda taking on water and probably ought to head back."

Split right up the seam

What I ACTUALLY did do was come up the stairs and while she was at the helm, I stated the quote in the previous sentence. Predictably, her reaction (while at full cruising speed) was to immediately spin the wheel to full port rudder. As faithful readers of previous blog entries already know, this type of input results in a very specific reaction by Perseverance. Namely, she wallows like a hog, leaning hard to starboard and dumping the contents of our fridge and freezer onto the galley floor 'cause we both forgot to latch them shut 'cause it was so calm and flat on the water when we tried to leave Milwaukee. After making it clear to Lori that we weren't actively sinking, that the twin bilge pumps were easily keeping up with the flow, and that the flow of lake water being pumped into our boat would stop once we shut down the engine, she calmed right down and did another fine job re-docking us at our previous spot at the end of F-dock. I was able to step right off the boat and fasten bow and stern lines. Safely docked, but our schedule likely in tatters - this is shaping up in typical fashion for a Sprague vacation.

No comment

We called Nelson in Escanaba for explanation/advice regarding why the muffler he built for us failed after 11 hours of use, and what to do about it. He offered to fix it for free, but didn't offer to come get it. He suggested that 1/8" 304 stainless might be too thin for the application and reminded me that it was our design, not his. Lori told me to call Dave's welding in Milwaukee, and Dave himself picked right up. We paraphrased our situation, and he handed us over to his daughter Danni, who said that she'd send Tim over in one hour with their F350 stake truck with a rattly ladder rack. Lori and I sprinted downstairs and attacked the muffler. It's a bear to disconnect, and a bear to wrestle out of the engine room, through a state room and up a flight of circular stairs, but we got it done in an hour and only lost one nut into the bilge. Tim killed a little time visiting both the north and south ends of the huge marina but we finally flagged him down and chucked the 130# hunk of steel into the back of his truck. Before he could think of a reason to say no, Lori hopped into the passenger seat and rode over to Dave's shop, leaving me onboard to work on my day-job and ponder my life choices.

Waiting for the truck

Tim to the rescue

Bonus! We saw the Wienermobile

At about 5pm, Lori texted me to meet her in the parking lot. She had managed to sweet talk Dave and company into doing emergency repairs and brought herself and the muffler back in an Uber XL. Dumping the repaired muffler into a dock cart, we wheeled it back out to the far end of F-dock and between the two of us, wrestled it back into place in about another hour. We were both hot, greasy, bruised and strained... but no blood. We both took long hot showers and had a quiet dinner aboard. Tomorrow we try again.

Victory!