Maximizing Time, Minimizing Expenses

Minimalism and not giving a hoot about a "delusional materialistic life" has never felt so sweet. It's about time I put on the Kerouac hat I discarded some twenty years ago when I made the foolish mistake of switching to a "normal" life.

In keeping with my serious commitment to maximize my time (LIFE) and to minimize expenses (WORK), instead of paying over 800 euros for a new self-tailing winch, I decided to buy two small second-hand Barlow 20 winches on Ebay. 

On my trip from Sagres to Sines, Portugal, my Barlow 24 halyard winch seized. Later, when I dismantled the winch, I found a broken pawl, a failed bearing and, amazingly, a missing part whose name eludes me. Incredible, Barlows are so good they don't even need all the parts to function for 14 years.

Here's my winch setup. The barely visible winch near the bottom right corner is an Arco 43 2-speed.

And here are the Barlow 20 winches I just bought on Ebay from the US (300 euros including shipping and nasty import duties).

I'll install this matching pair on the coach roof, mount the bronze Barlow 20 on the mast for the topping lift and use the Arco 43 to replace the failed Barlow 24.

The Arco gives me more muscle for the halyards, I will have a pair of matching winches on the coach roof - instead of the current ridiculous mismatch - plus an extra winch for the topping lift. And I SAVE over 500 euros for my next trip to the Algarve. Minimizing is the way to go.

Retire Early, Stop Worrying and Die Poor

Warning: this is an X-rated post. You must be over 50 to really appreciate it.

I've been feeling a bit disjointed since our cat died. It's as though I'm floating around no longer held in place by gravity. In other words, suddenly I don't give a shit. 

Maybe it wasn't the cat after all. Maybe - just maybe - it was the flaking paint on the mast that triggered it. I got all disconcerted and hyped, grinding my teeth about the stupid mast until I blew my last middle-class fuse. Consequently, I decided to scrape the mast and leave it ugly (sort of). It felt good, really good to solve the mast problem simply by not caring about what others would say and are saying.

Not caring what the neighbors think is serious business - it might take you to beautiful places populated by beautiful "losers." Suddenly you look at the real you in the mirror and wink because now you have a secret.

Why did I lash a mirror to a boat hook? To check the propeller, a cool trick. And yes, the prop is covered in barnacles.

Anyway, that led me to thinking about retiring early, not worrying and dying poor. Think about it, why would anyone want to die rich? What's the purpose of that? 

I've heard the argument that when you're "old" you need more money for health emergencies, home nursing, a fancy room in a retirement home, bla, bla, bla." What's the sense of sacrificing the good years to have better dentures when your teeth fall out and a fancy wheelchair when your legs go rubbery, your knees freeze and your pecker doesn't chirp anymore? 

My mind is made up. It's not going to happen overnight, but it's coming and there's no way to stop it.

Scared of Heights? Climb a Mast

Yesterday I was up the mast again, and I was having so much fun I didn't want to come down.

After 3 hours of pure satisfaction, I returned to deck level but only because I was hungry and thirsty.

Learning to love heights, but not mast corrosion.

And the view gets better the higher you go.

Did you ever notice how boats look better from an aerial view.

While I was up there taking a break from scraping it occurred to me that the only way to overcome apprehension (or overcome fear) is to simply do whatever makes you apprehensive. 

Can you remember berthing your first boat for the first time, anchoring for the first night, not to mention losing your virginity? (Did I just say that? Can't take it back now.) As you do it more and more, it becomes more enjoyable without any of those annoying sweaty-palm jitters. So, if anything looks intimidating just do it.

Consequently, I'm now feeling affectionate toward the mast I previously hated. I figure I can paint it while it's up. Only the first 20 feet need to look nice and smooth; above that height, I can slop the paint on with a broom. Who's going to know the difference?

If I had a carbon mast like this skipper, I'd have nothing to do.
He told me he also has a TopClimber. The first time he tried it, he struggled to get a couple of meters off the deck and then got stuck unable to go up or down. A crew member had to lower the halyard. That's what happens when the halyard isn't really tight.

More Mast Maintenance

The future is so bright I think I need shades! 

Maybe it's the sunny balmy weather we're having that's making me feel rejuvenated and all gung-ho.

I've reached a personal victory - I no longer agonize about painting Jakatar's mast. I'm like the hipsters living between Queen Street and College Street, Toronto, who let their lawns grow wild. But I don't feel hip, I simply don't care. 

I care about the mast's integrity, about having a safe comfortable boat, about enjoying life...but not about whether the mast looks perfect. I don't look perfect, not by a long shot, so why would I worry about the mast? Better stop before I start a new religion.

Made it to the first spreader...looking like I'm afraid of heights. But, in fact, I'm only afraid of falling. The line tied to a halyard near my right arm is attached to a harness. It slides up and down and would prevent a free fall.

I got as far as standing on the spreaders to scrape as far as I could reach. Three more trips up the mast should do it for this year. I also want to place boots on the upper spreaders and install a deck light to replace the one that fell off years ago. I've had the spreader boots and deck light in a box for years, it's about time I got the tomatos to start going aloft.

My plan is to give the mast a yearly scrape until it's bare aluminum again and then maybe coat it with Nyalic http://www.nyalic.com/marine/.

The topclimber comes with a nice tool bag that also advertises their kit because everybody loves to gawk at a mast climber. I got giddy from all the admiration from at least 3 or 4 onlookers.

I'm only one third up. I can hardly wait for the view from the top.

While scraping away, I looked up and thought, "shit, that's gonna be really high at the top." Then, on second thought, "hahaha, it makes no difference, either way it would be "splat and goodbye."

So, if this blog isn't updated in the future, send flowers.

Corbin 39

"I was looking for a boat that could take me safely and comfortably around the world," wrote Marius Corbin, the founder of Corbin les Bateaux Inc. in 1977. The company built 199 Corbins until 1990 and then closed.

At the Nazare boat yard

See end of page for a video of the interior.

I bought my unfinished Corbin in Ontario, Canada, while living in Lisbon, Portugal. It's a long complicated story that I'm not about to tell.

Three summers later I found myself motoring through the Erie Barge Canal, with its forty-odd locks, the mast lashed over the deck. Then we entered the Hudson River where we stepped the mast at a do-it-yourself place with a hand-cranked crane. After that, we tied up in New York for two days and pushed off into the Atlantic without even checking the weather forecast. I mean, we hadn't checked the weather forecast ever, not even back home.

What I'm saying is that the Corbin 39 is the perfect boat for foolish sailors. It's built like a tank and can take a lot of punishment. Good thing too, because one week later we were riding 8 meter waves with only a reefed stay sail and moving pretty good.

Today I can't help smirking when I read the equipment list of cruisers about to embark on their first adventurous ocean crossing. In comparison, we had four handheld GPSs (each crew member brought his own), a photocopied chart of the whole Atlantic, a wind generator, an epirb, a liferaft, a VHF radio, a windvane that worked great until the emergency rudder fitting got sloppy, and a radar reflector.

No autopilot, no fridge, no radar, no way of receiving weather information, no roller furling, no self-tailing winches, no dodger, no bimini - it was mostly naked.

About the name "Jakatar"

My brother and I were having breakfast at the local greasy spoon near the marina in Port Dover, Canada, when the talkative waitress asked us, "where you boys from?"
I wasn't quite sure whether she meant town or country, but probably town since neither of us has an accent.

While I was thinking about the answer, my equally talkative brother says, "we're originally from Portugal, sweety."

"Oh my, you're a couple of Jakatars."

"And what's a Jakatar?" I asked.

"I'm from Newfoundland," she went on. "In the old days a lot of Portuguese fishing ships came to Newfoundland to fish for cod. And you know what? They were mostly young and randy and, of course, they'd come ashore and knock up some of the local girls. Everybody would call their children Jakatars. But you know what, it also means a lot of other nasty things I'm not going to tell you boys about," she winked and moved on to the next table with the coffee pot.

I hadn't named my boat yet, and this was a sign. And hell yes, I've seen worse names on boats.

And, lastly, here's a boring video tour of Jakatar's interior. I seriously need to edit it.

Bare Aluminum Mast

The time has come to strip the flaking paint from the mast - all 51 feet of it - while the mast is up!

That's why I bought a Top Climber. It really works, but I still need a bit of practice before I'm as fast as this guy.

I had already scraped the bottom as far as I could reach. Now I actually got into the Top Climber for about an hour and scraped to the lower spreaders. One third down two thirds to go. I'll try not to forget the camera next time. And what a mess of paint flakes all over the deck.

Stairway to heaven.

I've decided to just leave it ugly. I'll take ugly over the hassle of unstepping it, painting it and stepping it again. That's what I did in 2007, and it was absolutely no fun, a waste of time and expensive. Maybe I'll paint it properly, or have a professional do it, when the time comes to downsize.

For those not familiar with aluminum and paint, if paint starts to bubble and flake and you don't scrape it, the water trapped between the paint and the aluminum will begin to cause corrosion and pitting.

Changing the topic, we now have a beach and a drydock at the marina. This is what happens when storm after storm dump tons of sand into your pool.

That's pretty shallow, I'd say.

I've also started contributing to Cruising Wiki. I've almost completed the section about Peniche.

Cost of Owning a Sailboat

Nazaré boat yard. Get the wallet ready.

It's been said many times that owning a sailboat is like standing in a cold shower, fully clothed, tearing up $100 bills.

That's not entirely true. If your sailboat is under 25 feet, it could be $10 bills...if it's over 60 feet, get a thick wad of $500 bills. Euros in my case.

So, let's look at the cost of owning a naked 39-foot sailboat kept by a sailor on a tight budget - me, a working stiff.

From the time I sailed my Corbin 39 from Port Dover, Canada, to Portugal, I've kept a detailed record of all my boat upkeep expenses. Since 2002, I've cruised down to the Algarve for about 1 month per year. This makes my situation fairly representative of a lot of sailboat owners.

In the last 11 years years, on average I've spent 5,082 euros per year.

Here's a chart for 2006, which exceeds the average yearly cost because it includes haul-out expenses (I normally paint the bottom every other year and do all the work myself).

2006

Date	item	Quantity	Cost in Euros
Jan.	VHF radio Navman 7100 5-1-V-29-0960		241
Jan.	Liferaft (10 persons for coastal cruising)		400
Jan.	First-aid kit, knife and fuse holders		24
Jan.	Marina	Jan, Feb. Mar.	390
Jan.	Lifering and reflective tape		47
Jan.	Naval club membership fee		24
Feb.	Batteries (6 AA)		7
Feb.	Paint for letters		4
Feb.	60 meters of 6 mm line		44
Feb.	Metal/fiberglass restoration fluid		13
Feb.	Metal/fiberglass polish fluid		12
Feb.	2 blocks, 8mm		9
Feb.	Shaft anode		6
Feb.	Hanging anode 1.5 kg (for use at marina)		40
Apr.	Chain 3 m x € 7.61		23
Apr.	Mask		15
Apr.	Misc.		11
Apr.	Marina	April & May	300
Apr.	3 cans 2.5 l micron extra antifouling paint		384
Apr.	Haul-out boat jacks €150 + zinc €19 + power wash €66		235
Apr.	30 mm Zinc at Nazaré – expensive		20
Apr.	Pliers for impeller spring		7
Apr	Zinc 32 mm		6
Apr.	Small blocks and material for lazy jacks		73
Apr.	Bow fender		28
Apr.	Mapsend BlueNav XL Chart		263
Apr.	Diesel (247 liters)		269
Apr.	Zinc for rudder support		9
May	Cooler (12 V DC with lighter plug)		50
May	Nazaré yard Travel lift € 65 x 2 + VAT Electricity € 4 + VAT Yard space rental €3.45 x 24 days		263
May	Nazaré marina – before and after haul-out 2 days (actually 3 days – one free day)		29
June	Marina	June & July	476
June	Insurance (currently paying €585)		936
June	Flag, small shackle		18
June	Fire extinguishers renewal		15
July	Grease spray		6
July	3M stainless steel polisher		20
July	2 fenders, outboard repair, 6 mm line		86
Aug.	Fender step	+-	75
Sept	Fabric and 2 curtain rods		45
Sept.	Marina	Aug/Sept/Oct	529
Oct.	VHF radio inspection		104
Oct.	8 liters of 15W40 oil		36
Oct.	Boat registration costs - from Canadian to Portuguese flag (paid a hell of a lot more for import VAT in the Azores which I included in the purchase cost).		188
Nov.	6 zincs / 2 oil filters / 1 fuel filter / Thermostat & gasket / fuel overflow hose / Oberdorf pump gasket $128 US + $101 US for shipping (ouch!)		184
Nov.	Customs tax for above order (ouch! ouch!)		91
Dec.	Marina	Nov. and Dec	240
		TOTAL	€6,295
	Marina Peniche		1,935
	Haul-out and bottom paint		1,027

           

The list below includes most Big Ticket items bought since I arrived in Portugal in 2002:

Item	Cost in Euros
4 skipper licenses. These are mandatory - according to how far from port you sail -  when you are a resident operating a Portuguese-registered boat. I had to register Jakatar because it came from outside the EU. Stupid choice. Basic Skipper + Local Skipper + Coastal Skipper + Ocean Skipper All courses were taken separately in different years	2,500
Used Yamaha dinghy and 2 hp engine	750
Raymarine ST100 autopilot to be used with the windvane	396
Arco 43 2-speed winch, on Ebay	229
Lavac toilet and pump (nothing beats it)	350
Magellan FX color chart plotter, on  Ebay	541
Flares	219
Navman 7100 VHF radio (needed to comply with new regulations)	241
10-person liferaft for coastal cruising, a big inflatable lifesaver	400
Mapsend BlueNav XL Chart, Portugal, Azores, Canaries, Spain until Gibraltar	263
Mast paint	272
Crane to step and unstep the mast	200
Circulation stamp – now I pay only €80, the rule changed from boat size to engine size (didn't pay anything when sailing under the Canadian flag for almost 4 years, until I was told I’d be shot on the spot if I didn't change over to the Portuguese flag. I kept arguing that I had paid the Import VAT, to no avail).	240
Carpenters – new staysail boom, window frames, etc.	400
Raymarine hydraulic autopilot, including installation	1,732
180 A (?) battery	116
Icom M-33 handheld VHF radio	185
Spinnaker snuffer	258
Stainless deck diesel fill, stainless through-hull	227
2 Vetus mushroom vents	129
VHF course and license renewal (another mandatory burden)	155
Alado roller furler A-4	1,398
Halyard, 10 mm for furler, 2 blocks, fairlead	160
Interior hatch frames and labor for installing komacel ceiling lining	170
Genoa – Pires de Lima 48 m2	2,303
Top climber, to climb the mast + plus miscellaneous stuff	368
ZF 12M transmission, on Ebay and installed it myself	900
913 Rutland wind generator repair,  power socket, AC switchboard and battery   charger	410
Rocna 25 anchor	609
Honwave T 20 SE dinghy	698
Bic Bilbao kayak, used	280

And 

Just for fun, here's the cost of building a mooring - a mooring fit for a ship. Extreme overkill!!!
3 1-ton blocks linked together in a triangle. Forgot to take pictures.
I did all the work. The yard was kind enough to place the blocks in the water with a crane. I hoisted them off the bottom with a chain hoist and slowly motored out to the mooring field.
I was moored for one year, the seagulls bombarded my deck, I got tired of not being able to translate on the boat, for a lack of electricity, so I sold the mooring for €1,000 euros.
In the end, I didn't save much money but - believe it or not - it was a fun experience.
And the mooring fee was €260 the first year and €300 the second year. I was on the mooring for 1 year, but the payment is made per calendar year.

Mooring 2009/2010

Nov.	400 kg 22mm chain + 1 m 30mm chain, swivel and shackle from Batista Scrap yard in Alhos Vedros		276
Nov.	Trailer hitch for the dinghy trailer		200
Dec.	180 kg of 50mm chain		150
Dec.	Trailer lights plug		32
Dec.	Rebar, wire, bricks		26
Dec.	Rebar + plastic sheet		10
Dec.	Concrete - ready mix truck		100
Dec.	Mooring molds x 3		150
March	8 m of 16 mm chain (49 kg)		115
March	2 Styrofoam mooring balls 50x50x50		40
March	3 liters of polyester resin €55 + 1.5m2 mat fibre to coat the Styrofoam mooring balls		70
March	Brushes and rolls		6
March	1 l polyester resin + .75 m mat		26
March	Titan paint for mooring balls		13
March	Epoxy glue		8
March	Paint rolls for mooring balls		6
May	Toniauto trailer to transport my dinghy from home to the port		350
March	Shackles (balance of trade with Ryker on chain block, chain more or less equals out to these amounts) Ryker also built a mooring but with only 1 1-tone block. We worked on the project together. Good thing, because the guy is very smart.		155
	TOTAL		1,733