Sunday, 1 January 2017

Up The Hamble Without A Rudder

Last time we wrote anything about our boat, we were out in Portugal with Seahorse, starting work on the refit before going back to London for the birth of our first child. The bulk of the work we did was in the engine bay, in preparation for installing our brand new engine. It was filthy work, grinding the rusted steel back to bare metal, welding up any holes and then painting on primer. We were very happy with the quality of the work we had done, but realised that we had months (if not years) of work ahead of us, given our perfectionist tendencies and work rate. Having not even completed the engine bay or installed the new engine, we drove Reg (our Rover 75) back to London.

Work on Seahorse's engine bay was slow and filthy, and was only the tip of the iceberg.

A couple of weeks into life with our daughter Beth around, we came to the realisation that most people around us had probably already known for months; it was going to be completely impractical to attempt the major refit on Seahorse in a boatyard with a baby. Sure, it would be possible, if we took it in turns to work on our own down the yard whilst the other person looked after Beth elsewhere, but that didn't appeal to us at all. Neither of us wanted to miss out on any of this precious time with our new daughter, and we certainly didn't want to be without a proper home for all that time. We wanted Beth to grow up on a boat right from the word go, and a functional one at that. I began my search for a replacement for Seahorse, and we resigned ourselves to losing money in this exchange, as it would be difficult to find a buyer willing to undertake such a large project, let alone one willing to pay good money for the challenge.

We were determined that Beth should grow up on a boat,
hence us renting the yacht Anna-Maria whilst back in London for her birth.

With Beth one month old, and my new boat research in full swing, we went down to the south coast for the weekend to visit a few groups of good friends down there. One couple happened to be with their boat in a yard in Bursledon on the River Hamble, doing a refit themselves, so we were pleased to get the chance to pop in on them for a few hours. Whilst Alex was arranging this visit, he mentioned the fact that we were now looking for a new boat and our friend Warren excitedly mentioned that he thought that the perfect boat for us was moored astern of them at the yard. It was, apparently, a 40ft ferro-cement ketch ready for sea with just a bit of sprucing up to do beforehand. Now, 40ft was much larger than we were planning on getting - my searches were for up to 37ft, and we were also looking for steel. We had found plenty available in the Netherlands, but hadn't organised any viewings at that stage. So, with nothing to lose, we agreed to view this yacht out of interest, whilst we were in the area.

We were pleased to have found such a sturdy yacht that we could move
straight onto and was "ready to go" sailing - it felt like fate!

Over the next couple of days prior to our visit, this yacht grew from 40ft to 42ft in email communications, then upon arrival we discovered she was actually 45ft. Warren had not wanted to disclose this fact beforehand, as he knew that we would not be willing to view a boat so big. We laughed at how well he knew us, as this was definitely the case - we would never have considered such a large vessel. Anyhow, now we were there, she looked very nice from the pontoon and so Warren arranged for the owner to come and show us around below decks. She was very well equipped, incredibly spacious and Alex was immediately taken with her stowage capacity, especially her 1000 litre water tank and 300 gallon diesel tank. We liked her, and although we were unsure of owning a ferro-cement hull, she had been built by an employee of Camper and Nicholsons (a well-respected boat builders) to a very high standard. We negotiated what we thought was a fair price with the owner, on the one condition that he got the engine working prior to sale. He had tried to start it for us, boasting that it started first time, every time, which of course it then didn't. We didn't really mind, as Alex suspected the solenoid contacts had corroded (the boat hadn't moved since at least last year) and would just need a clean. We could tell that the owner was a real gentleman and would be true to his word and, of course, we had Warren's recommendation that the boat was sound. The deal was done, and we left Bursledon rather excited about our spur-of-the-moment purchase.

Alex's birthday meal on the new boat, with his family. At this point,
we were blissfully unaware of the work that lay ahead of us!

We had plans over the following few weeks to visit friends and family with Beth, so it was almost a month before we returned to our new home. We loaded a hire car with our worldly belongings (well, the small amount that existed with us in the UK, that is) and headed excitedly down to Bursledon, via the owner's house near Andover, where we had a spot of lunch, transferred the remaining funds for the boat and collected bits and bobs that had been in his garage (such as varnished grab rails, sails, cushions, etc). Now in mid-August, the weather was warm and we were keen to remove the tarpaulins that had been covering the cabin tops, to open the hatches and let in the summer sunshine. Everything was peachy. Until the next night, when it rained. It soon became apparent that this boat was not at all watertight, and so I used every available rag, teatowel and bowl to catch drips and soak up puddles. I covered our duvet with a bin bag and a towel, to prevent the leaking hatch above our bunk from completely soaking our bedding. As you can imagine, this put a bit of a damper on our high spirits.

As much as I like mushrooms, I didn't fancy cultivating them in our aft cabin.
The sides were so rotten in some places that Alex was easily able to poke a screwdriver through 30mm of marine ply!

The next morning we wrung out towels, emptied bowls and properly inspected the cabin tops and hatches. We weren't so concerned with leaks from around hatches and portholes - this can be expected over time, and is usually fairly easily rectified by removing, resealing and reseating the leaking object. When we first moved onto Firebird, she had plenty of leaks from poorly sealed portholes and deck fittings, but once fixed we had a dry boat for the remaining years that we owned her. What concerned us more was the realisation that we had large sections of rot in parts of the cabin tops. Whilst the hull and decks were made of ferro-cement, the cabin tops were made from marine ply and these, on closer inspection, were in a bad way. This was a big blow for us, as we began to realise that we did not, in fact, have a boat that was ready to put to sea, but rather one that needed a fairly hefty amount of work in order to even be habitable.

All our possessions, boxed up and removed from Seahorse, ready for shipping
back to the UK. Sadly, this is all now in storage, costing us £65 a month!

By now, we had already booked flights to Portugal to pack up our belongings from Seahorse to ship back to the UK and attempt to sell the old girl, so there was little more we could do than put the tarpaulins back up and hope that they held the worst of the weather out for the month we were to be away. Packing up Seahorse was not an easy task, especially in the stifling Algarvian heat, but I enjoyed that month immensely. I think this was partly due to knowing that difficult times lay ahead on our return to our new boat, which made every worry-free second away from it even sweeter. We successfully loaded all our possessions onto a single pallet, and then tidied Seahorse as best we could in order to sell. We advertised her at the price of her brand new Beta engine, and hoped that someone would be happy to pay for an engine and get a boat for free. We had lots of interest and viewings from Portuguese buyers whilst we were there in Lagos, but eventually it was a lovely English chap who took her off our hands shortly after our return to London. It was a relief to have found a new owner for Seahorse, especially one who was planning to restore her and make her his home. Although, I have since found myself wondering on many an occasion whether we should have just kept her, saved ourselves the best part of 20 grand and at least had the pleasure of a refit in the warm Portuguese climate.

Beth and I were always on hand, to provide cups of tea, crisps, and ensure materials arrived on time.
Mike and Alex did the bulk of the hard work, starting early and finishing late in a race against the weather.

Early October, we found ourselves heading back down to Bursledon, ready to start work on the new boat. We asked our friend Mike (from Rescue My House Ltd) if he fancied expanding his business and opening a marine division to help us with the aft cabin top. Thank goodness he agreed, as without his help I think we'd still be trying to remove the old cabin top. Mike came down for a week and worked with Alex on removing the entire aft cabin top, replacing it with sheets of brand new marine plywood. Beth and I took on the project management, ordering materials just in time for the boys to use them, and ensured they were well watered and fed. To be honest, I think Beth could have pulled her weight a bit more in all this... I often felt like I was carrying her, but luckily she is super cute so can get away with being pretty much useless at helping out. One week turned into four, as we were hit with delays due to bad weather (not so much rain but cold weather preventing materials from curing and drying properly) and we were eternally grateful to Mike and his family that he was able to spend the time away from home, helping us out.

I managed to take a break from project management to help install the new portholes.
The finished aft cabin top looks brilliant and, most importantly, doesn't leak.

During that period, we had to take the boat out of the water to clean and repaint the hull ready for our trip to France. Oh, sorry, did I forget to mention that we had invited Alex's family to spend Christmas on the boat with us in France? Ah, how blissfully unaware we were of our situation back in the summer... Now in mid-November, we still felt like we had a fighting chance of getting over there in time - we just needed to antifoul, finish the aft cabin, restep the mizzen mast (which was removed to facilitate the aft cabin refit) and get the rigging and sails ready. Simples. Until, that is, we found more issues with the boat. The first was the gearbox. It turned out that, whilst the previous owner had been true to his word and got the engine running prior to our purchase, nobody had thought to see if it would go in and out of gear, and it wouldn't. Never mind, we thought - hopefully a simple problem to fix when we get chance... Perhaps a seal or something. We paid the yard to tow us to the cradle, and came out of the water to discover another problem. The existing paint system had completely failed and was now trapping water against the hull. Rather than just a new coat of antifouling, we now needed to strip all the paint back to the concrete, which meant an extra week out of the water and a large bill for expensive marine paint. After a few gruelling days cleaning the hull, Alex stumbles upon the next big issue - the rudder is broken and useless. The metal stock had corroded right through, and turning the wheel no longer equated to moving the rudder. The Channel crossing was starting to slip away from us. A quote from the boatyard of £4000 to fix the rudder and a probable lead time of two months left us no option but to attempt to build one for ourselves. We removed the old one prior to putting the boat back in the water, and took it to my parents' garage in Somerset, which they kindly agreed to let us use as a workshop in which to build our replacement rudder.

Mike and Alex continued working hard on the boat whilst she was out of the water.
Alex had to cut the old rudder off before she went back into the water, to use as a template for making a new one.

And so, as it stands, we are stuck on a leaky (we have yet to fix the leaks in the forward cabin), oversized boat on the most expensive stretch of water in the UK, unable to move to a cheaper mooring due to the fact that, amongst other things, we have no rudder. Note to self: never buy a boat without taking it out for a sail, prior to parting with any hard-earned cash.

Alex enjoys the luxury of a makeshift workshop in my parents' garage,
whilst welding the stainless frame for our new rudder

1 comment:

  1. looks like a good boat for cruising the caribbean... Big is bad on the Hamble where you pay by the foot but it will be great when living at anchor for free.

    ReplyDelete

You comment will appear only after it has been moderated i.e. Alex needs to click a button to accept it. If we're at sea, your comment might take a while to appear as we won't have full internet access to be able to do this.