Sailing a Dirty Bathtub

The first sail of the year on my boat was like sailing a dirty bathtub in sloppy waters.

Family visit from Canada: my brother Luis (a sailboat owner) and my nieces Erika (a sailboat owner) and Michelle (an adventurer).

We motored out of the port nose-punching the waves at 2.5 kt, raised the stay sail, unfurled the jib, killed the engine, after which Erika shouted, "Yeah, we're doing it!!" But we were doing it so slow I had to start the engine to tack.

Erika has a sailboat on Great Slave Lake in Yellowknife Canada where it's so inhumanely cold I can't even imagine doing anything there other than complain until they ran me out of town in disgust.

Anyway, except for some sunshine, the conditions were all wrong (unless you compare it to Yellowknife): 10 kt SSW wind; lumpy west seas; a dirty bottom and and an encrusted propeller. We had fun anyway. After all, day-sailing is more about doing it than speed. 

Changing the topic - or maybe not, depending on how you look at it - I fell in love with a Frances 26, online of course, despite the fact that I'm already married to a Corbin 39. 

I know she's small, but big enough, full of style, easy to handle and built for cruising...and affordable to own. There's a Morris Frances 26 for sale in Portugal with an asking price of €29,000. 

I wish I could say more, but I have work to finish. In the future you might be hearing more from me because a small but significant change has happened.

The Drink and Piss Method

How long does it take to change a boat engine's antifreeze? About 6 weeks. That's how it goes on a naked boat.

I discovered that you shouldn't mix different types of antifreeze. After that, I discovered that pink antifreeze may be bad for seals in older diesel engines. Lastly, I can't open the little tap that drains the coolant from the engine block.

I couldn't open the little tap with my bare hand, even after soaking it with DW-40, and I'm not about to use a wrench. It's hidden behind the oil filter in a hard-to-reach place, and snapping it would imply a major headache. In this stage of the game I need less pain and more pleasure.

After finally finding blue antifreeze at an auto parts store, I got to work using the drink and piss method, which is not painful at all.

Pee into the pan please.

The whole Kubota engine takes 7.5 l of coolant. Because I can drain only about 3 liters from the coolant tank, I decided on the following procedure:

• drain the coolant tank
• refill it with distilled water
• run the engine until the tank is hot
• shut the engine down and let it cool
• drain the coolant tank again
• repeat the process 8 times
• in the last operation, uncouple the long hose connecting the heat exchange to the engine to remove another 1/2 liter
• pour 3.5 l of pure blue antifreeze into the tank, run the engine to mix it up.

One more drink and piss operation and I can finally add the antifreeze and move on to the task of scraping the propeller and checking the bottom growth. If it's really bad I may haul out this year.

In the middle of all this drinking and pissing I took a trip to Gibraltar, to be covered in my next post.

Surviving on Vegetables and Fish

Lately, it's been nothing but hassles and work.

The other day, taking a break in the backyard soaking up some sunshine, I began thinking about how my life is slipping into a boring routine, and who's to blame? Me, of course. Having a sailboat, living in a semi-exotic place and being a freelance translator is no guarantee for an exciting life, I tell you. You have to work for it.

Although I don't have any revolutionary plans to make life more exciting (actually I do, but I'm not going to tell), a really small idea popped into my head.

The Big Small Plan - instead of packing a pile of cans, jars, bags and whatnot, why not try surviving on fresh vegetables and the fish I catch on my next cruise, even if it means going hungry. Going hungry is better than being bored numb. Besides, I need to lose a few pounds.

I began by experimenting with sprouts to decide whether sprouting on a boat is feasible. I tried lentils and the results were pretty good. It consumes a fair amount of water, but that shouldn't be a problem considering the size of my water tanks. Besides, I'm not planning to eat sprouts for breakfast, lunch and dinner!

My first lentil sprout crop

I also know a thing or two about vegetables because I used to be, among many other professions, a farmer - both in Canada and Portugal, and not a hobby farmer either - a real big-tractor, big-truck, big-machinery bad-ass, straw chewing farmer.

So anyway, here's my provisioning list:

Butternut pumpkins - they last for ages and are delicious even when simply boiled, better than bland potatoes (as far as I know, I introduced butternut pumpkins to Portugal 30 years ago).
Carrots - will last quite some time if kept cool and dry, not in a plastic bag.
Onions - hard onions without any soft spots will easily stay fresh for a month.
Dry chickpeas, lentils, beans, etc. - will last forever and you can soak them for a few days or sprout them.
Nuts - a variety of shelled nuts (the last thing you want is nut shells all over the boat).
Cabbage - the dense head variety will last for a couple of weeks; the outer leaves will gradually get yellow but you can peel them back and eat the inner compact leaves.
Green tomatoes - will last quite a few days until you go ashore to a market.
Green bananas - no brainer.
Green apples - no brainer.
Peppers - green without a speck of bruises, but will only last a couple of weeks.

I haven't researched about edible seaweed yet, but I'm not too optimistic, not to mention enthusiastic.

Fish
I'll need more lures for fish and squid to use both while sailing/motoring or when anchored. A good way for catching octopus is drop a clay pot to the bottom when anchored. Octopuses use it as a hiding place and, when you pull it up, instead of fleeing they hunker down even more because they feel safe inside the pot.

At anchorages with a rocky shore, I can also go "pole poking" for octopus. You secure a dead fish to the end of a pole with a bit of netting and you poke the stinky fish into rocky holes, preferably at low tide (sardines are best because they stink, but you can also use a small crab or even white rag tied like a bow-tie). When you feel the octopus grab, you gently pull up until you're able to net it much like you would net a fish, and then you bite it hard and repeatedly between the eyes. If you're a wuss, you can knife it. They take forever to die good and proper. For the record, I've gone octopus pole poking many a time, and usually you end up catching a lot of small crabs too.

If all that fails, I can go shelling in the mud flats of Alvor and Culatra and pray I don't get toxin poisoning.

See, it doesn't take all that much to get a grown man excited. Most women will never understand, they just roll their eyes and look at you pitifully. As one guy once asked me, "you sailed across the Atlantic? Wouldn't it be easier to fly?"

I spent today on the boat and started practicing. Since I was too busy working to go fishing, I ate vegetables.

The recipe, bottom to top: olive oil, onion slices, carrots, leek, tomato, lots of red pepper. No salt, no herbs...nothing more.

I have to admit that I cheated a bit halfway through the meal. I dug up some 8-month-old packaged toast from the last trip. Eight months and it's still edible: it's gotta be bad for you.

How to Buy a Sailboat - Do the Math

If you're planning to buy your first sailboat or even a different type of boat, don't ask how much it will cost. Instead, ask how much it's going to cost you. 

Although you can easily answer the first question by checking price tags, you'll probably have no idea how much it's going to cost you until it's too late.   

Two Scenarios

Scenario 1
A friend of mine bought a 39-foot sailboat in the year 2000. It was an unfinished, overbuilt go-anywhere cruiser. In 2002, after having blown his budget, it was ready for the Atlantic crossing but still unfinished, quite rudimentary and naked: no roller furling, no self-tailing winches, no fridge, no radar, no dodger...well, not much of anything. The price tag, however, had reached €100,000.

During the 13 years since the Atlantic crossing, he has spent €66,000 euros on boat operating costs and a few minor upgrades, but the boat is still naked and now even a bit scuffed.

Let's do the math:
   Initial cost                                        €100,000
   Operating costs/upgrades                   €66,000 
   Total                                                 €166,000
   Minus optimistic resale value          - €50,000 
   Total spent in 13 years                   €116,000

So, he wasted spent €116,000 in 13 years, which is equivalent to €9,000 per year, not including his labor. Ouch! I didn't know he was so rich, you'd never guess it by the car he drives, the clothes he wears or the restaurants he eats at...to think of it, he rarely goes to restaurants. What a cheapo!

Scenario 2
I have another friend who, coincidentally, 13 years ago purchased a roomy second-hand 26-foot well equipped production boat in great shape for €35,000. He spends about €2,000 per year to run it and does very little work other than keeping it shiny and clean.

Let's do the math:
   Initial cost                                          €35,000
   Operating costs/upgrades                  €26,000 
   Total                                                  €61,000
   Minus realistic resale value             - €20,000 
   Total spent in 13 years                    €41,000  

This owner spent €41,000 in 13 years, which is equivalent to €3,150 per year.

That's a staggering difference between the two scenarios. Additionally, we could also say that owner 2, besides spending 70% less money, also enjoyed his boat twice as much. Therefore 3 x 2 = 6 times better investment.

Also remember that these two owners keep their boats at the same marina and use them for nearly identical purposes: 1 month of coastal cruising to the Algarve in summer and day sailing in between. In reality, owner 1 did very little day sailing because he was too busy doing boat work and also because of the hassle of spontaneously taking out a bigger boat for an afternoon sail.

Admittedly, owner 1 crossed the Atlantic, whereas owner 2 would never dare do so in his smaller production boat.

Please, keep in mind that these are facts, based on people I know very well, and not mere theory. I'm aware that every boat is unique and every owner is also unique, which can greatly alter the equation. But I know a lot of boat owners, and I could make many other comparisons with similar results.

Also note that these observations apply to local sailing and occasional coastal cruising, not to bluewater cruising or living aboard full-time. That's a completely different gig.

With this in mind, I have come to a few conclusions about boat ownership based on real life experiences - mine and of people I know well.

Never build a sailboat unless it's small or you don't like sailing anyway.

The resale value of your work of art will be a tiny fraction of what you spent - if you actually finish it. I've seen enough boat-building tragedies to make me want to cry and one, in particular, that would make the very devil cringe.

Never borrow money to buy a sailboat

Owning a sailboat is a horrible financial investment. Borrowing money to pay for a boat is like borrowing 100-dollar bills to light cigars with. 

New vs. Used Boats

        

  New Boats

• New is good for buyers looking for ways to spend their cash. That's what money is for, right? 
• New is peace of mind. You can wear white pants aboard, go sailing or sip drinks in the cockpit looking sophisticated instead of sweating down below like a grease-monkey boat slave.
• If you buy a smallish new production boat, say 30 feet, it will depreciate at least 5,000 euros per year over a 10-year period. If you buy a new 50-foot production sailboat, it will depreciate around 12,000 euros per year during the same 10-year period, not to mention the exorbitant cost of maintaining it. After 10 years, boat depreciation begins to diminish if the boat is kept in reasonable condition...but the cost to  maintain it will begin to increase slightly.

Used Boats

A 10-year-old boat may have a neglected or abused engine, it may have been run aground on a rock or had holes drilled into the deck without being properly sealed. Other than that, what you see is pretty much what you get.

An older boat may look incredibly pristine and boast a good engine while concealing, pitted chainplates, mushy deck or hull coring, unreachable rot in interior woodwork, a corroding rudder post or fatigued rudder frame, messy wiring, questionable mast fittings, etc.

Used sailboats can be classified roughly into 4 categories, mostly depending on their age, but not necessarily so:
1) All systems operational
2) Requiring some upgrades
3) In need of many upgrades
4) Derelicts

All systems operational
In the first 10 years sailboats depreciate at about 5% per year. A 10-year-old boat will give you the biggest bang for your buck. And you don't need to be a genius to do your own survey. If it "looks good" and the engine doesn't cough up black or blue smoke or overheat, you're in business. I believe that surveys are more important for older or larger boats. Nevertheless, if this is your first boat, hiring a surveyor may be a good idea.

Requiring some upgrades

You can get real boat bargains here, especially in well maintained boats reaching the 30-year mark. Within this time frame sailboats will most likely require upgrades, especially new sails, dodger and sail cover canvas, electronics, etc. Some have been partially or fully upgraded, some have all the original equipment. You have to do your math. Make a list of what it needs, calculate the extra cost and labor and then compare the final price to a similar boat in better condition.

It may have a questionable engine, a scuffed interior, a suspicious rudder, beer-belly sails, toothy anchor chain attached to an ancient plow anchor, the dreaded mushy deck core, a toilet that squirts back at you. It may also be in pristine condition, for a price of course. These boats may be cheap but not dirt cheap. Do the math.

In need of many upgrades 

If you buy a sailboat that's falling apart, remember this: an old sailboat hull is not worth very much. For example, if you buy an old hull but you need to repair/upgrade most of the basic equipment and start tearing out and rebuilding some/all of the interior, the final cost will be higher than buying a similar-size boat that's ten years old. 

"But I'll have a new engine, new sails, new winches, ...." you may argue, "It'll be like a new boat!" To which I reply, "a 10-year-old boat is almost new and you can start sailing the next day instead of spending all your free time researching and working for the next 4 years, with the added risk of not doing it properly, of ending up with an old-amateur-rebuild-looking boat. 

Derelicts

Derelict boats have many uses: if made of wood, it's great for firewood; if made of steel, you can sink it and create a fish haven; if made of fiberglass, you can paint it and place it in your backyard and make a playhouse for the kids or an interesting place to hang out and write blogs. The possibilities are endless.

What sailboat would I buy now, if I din't already have one?

Because I'm living in Europe, and because of the damn EC boat import rules, I'd have to buy an EC approved European boat. Simply put, I'd go for a 30-foot €40,000 production boat. Low maintenance, easy to handle as I get older, lots of life left in it, enough room for me and the occasional crew member/members, decent turn of speed and, most important, low operating costs.

I also did the math for another interesting scenario:

Let's imagine I traded my boat, Jakatar, for the aforementioned 30-foot €40,000 sailboat. What!!! Are you crazy? You wanna give your boat away?

Let's do the math:

The cost of keeping Jakatar for the next 15 years will be about €4,500 x 15 = €67,500.

The cost of keeping the said 30-foot boat for the next 15 years would be about €2,500 x 15 = €37,500.

That's a difference of roughly €30,000 euros. If you look at it from another perspective, this means that, in reality, by saving €30,000 I would be receiving the equivalent of €70,000 for Jakatar. It also means that I could retire 2 years earlier, have more fun, less work and, perhaps most importantly, have a boat I can handle single-handed when I get older. Scary thought, I tell you.

Notes:

• Not applicable to small boats, say, about 20 feet and under. These smaller boats usually have an outboard engine and very little equipment or interior furniture. 
• There are many exceptions that will prove me wrong. But that's like saying "my grandfather was a heavy smoker and lived to be 94, so smoking isn't bad for your health."
• Not applicable to people who get a lot of satisfaction from restoring an older boat. Someone once told me he got way more pleasure from fixing than sailing. Can't argue with that, it's a perfectly legitimate pastime and probably far more prevalent than we think. I too enjoy many maintenance tasks on Jakatar, but up to a limit, after which it becomes a burden and no fun at all.

Anchoring in Alcoutim

It's been 4 years since I was anchored in Alcoutim. We just visited by car, and all I can tell you is that my body slumped as I watched an "early-retired couple" dock at the town's free pontoon looking like a million bucks.

Why? Because "watching it" is a damn poor substitute for "doing it". It's unhealthy, I tell you.

No schedule, no utility bills, no hassles - 99% of people would die of boredom, I hope you're in the 1% category.

No it's not a retirement home. It's a restaurant and we ate here because that's where I ate when I was here by boat, and I had grilled cuttle fish again. Four fish dishes, wine etc. for 35 euros. The place ain't hopping this time of year (although there were some English-speaking blokes beside us) but it's got charm and an outdoor patio for summer time.

The first night we stayed at a farm bed & breakfast near Vila Real de Santo António located at the mouth of the Guadiana River. 

They had donkey rides, but apparently the donkeys had been let out as part of a live nativity scene and were returned looking like starving skeletons. 

We were told that a lawyer sold this old majestic hotel, which belonged to somebody else, and skipped town with the money. Now it's for sale again, by the real owners.

Getting older, getting crazier.

We spent the second night farther inland at Reguengos de Monsaraz near an old fort way up on a hill.

Rooms in the middle of an orange grove. The oranges were in season and delicious.

Typical street within the castle walls.

It was a fun trip. By the time I got home I had mostly forgotten about that boat docking in Alcoutim.

Talking to Other Sailors

The Dutch Sailor, a blog follower, visited me on the boat on a sunny afternoon during a short holiday in Peniche. Luckily, I was ahead in my work and so we sat down for a long interesting conversation. 

Funny thing, he told me he wants to upgrade from his current 29-foot boat to a 40 footer. I want to do the opposite. It's the old "the dream is always better on the other side of the pontoon" syndrome.

As I talked to this former motorcycle racer turned sailor, freelance engineer...I was reminded that the fun in talking to other sailors is that there's never a shortage of like-minded interests: from anodes to anchors, from transmissions to solar panels.

When two sailors are in the same boat the potential topics of conversation are proportional to their list of things to fix or upgrade. In other words, it's endless. And if sailors live longer than non-sailors, it's because they want more time to finish their list of never-ending tasks. Owning a sailboat is also like having a high-maintenance wife; when you sell it (the boat, not the wife) you lose about as much money as when you get a divorce. [Ana doesn't read my blog, thank God, and I'm confident my female readers will understand that I'm joking...sort of.]

Took this early morning shot shot next to the marina.

In the midst of the conversation, I received a message with a large job for the weekend, for Tuesday to be exact. Absolutely out of the question because I had already planned a road trip to the Algarve, including a stop at one of my favorite anchorages twenty miles up the Guadiana River. More about that in the next post.

Oil Change Artist Goes Crazy

There comes a time when you may begin to question your sanity. Owning a sailboat will speed up that process with lightening speed.

I've come a long way since the days when I used to change the oil and would spill half of it on the cabin sole soaking in multiple layers of paper towels. That's when I had an electric oil suction pump from hell!! 

In those days I must have also been blind. Even a child could see that the engine sits high enough for an old-fashion oil change - as in unscrewing the drain plug and catching the oil in a container. It took me 8 years to figure that out. Luckily, I'm a bit smarter in other matters of life, or maybe not, as you will soon see.

A garbage bag taped to a guillotined water jug makes oil changes a pleasure.

But I'm making it sound easy, which it wasn't, not this time. Let me recreate the scenario that would have anybody question their sanity. You know, when your start repeatedly asking yourself "am I going f*** nuts or what?"

After draining the oil and removing the old filter without spilling hardly a drop, I realized I had no replacement filter. Can't be! I'm sure I saw it in here with all these fuel filters. Maybe it's at home. I bought three of them, I'm sure I did.

After rummaging through every single storage area twice, there was nothing to do but go buy a filter at the tractor parts store, actually two for €13. 

I was back the next day with the oil filters and screwed one in first thing. There! Now I'm in business. Now I'll just pour the oil...

...what's this? I have three oil jugs on the boat and ALL THREE have about 1.5 liters each. You mean I've been carrying these jugs around for a year, have actually picked them up probably 50 times to get at tools and never noticed that they were almost empty. And more importantly, why do I have 3 jugs each with 1.5 liters of oil. Oh man, I need to see a boat shrink. I'm still puzzled even now as I write this. Weird, weird, I tell you.

But I have money. I know that for sure because I opened my wallet and there it was: three twenties, a ten and a fiver. So off I go to Intermarché (a grocery supermarket) for a jug of Galp 15W40 diesel oil that cost €19.99.

Four 5-litre jugs of oil, you'd think I have a 300 hp engine.

So now I have a leftover jug with 1.5 liters to start the collection all over again. 

The transmission was next. I had some Galp Automatic transmission fluid, Type A, but I already knew that. No messing with my head there. I did, however, get the math wrong and poured too much fluid in, which I removed of course. 280 ml + 420 ml = 560 ml??. Yeah, I better see the math shrink too. I used to be brilliant in math. I also used to be normal before I had a boat. Ana doesn't call me Martelo Godzulo for nothing.