Catalina 22
Making some new dock lines and prepping new running rigging, a perfect rainy day job.
It’s been a very mild winter here in BC and we’ve got some runny days and warm temperatures coming up for the first week of February. But while it’s wet out, I’ve got my splicing gear out on the kitchen table, a fresh cup of coffee, and enough lines to keep me busy most of the afternoon.
The day started out promising.
Despite a call for cloud and chance of rain, the sun was out when I got to the marina.
And it was windy. Bonus.
However, I soon discovered that I couldn’t drop Madsu’s keel all the way down. Back to the dock for us.
Madsu’s swing keel is a brilliant piece of work. Catalina made a big impact on the trailerable sailboat market with their simple yet effective swing keel system. At the forward end, the keel pivots on a big pin that’s held in place by hangars. A bit like a hinge turned sidways. At the aft end of the keel there’s a cable that comes up through the bottom of the boat, through a tube (affectionately called the Volcano) that reaches ABOVE the waterline, and the cable exits to a cable winch that’s sits just under the companionway. It’s quite ingenious – here’s this hole in the bottom of the boat, with a cable running through it, yet by inserting a pipe that extends above the waterline, it all works, and the water stays OUT where it belongs. (That pipe is really just a piece of what looks like big radiator hose).
Madsu’s steel keel weighs a bit over 500 lbs, and even though it’s pivoting on that pin at the foreward end, there’s a lot of tension on the cable pulling up the aft end.
Often as I’m winching up the keel, the cable will jump a bit as it doubles over itself and then ‘slips’ back (imagine winding a spool – except that the cable is feeding in from a fixed point, so it starts to pile on as it is wound up). Of course, the winch is hidden, and you can’t see the cable winding on, so all you really have is the sound and the feel of it as you’re winding it up or down.
I’d had a fairly extreme case of the ‘jumps’ the last time I wound the cable up – and I guess it just managed to cross and lock itself up.
After removing a panel that covers the keel winch, I was able to see that there was in fact an over-ride on the cable. It was jammed tight, so I could crank the keel all the way up, but on the way down, the cable jammed.
With the tension on the cable, it was impossible to budge the over-ride, and at first I figured I was going to have to haul the boat and block the keel up to get the tension off the cable. I tried various ways of locking off the cable, but it really wasn’t working.
Fortunately, I was at the marina, and not off on a trip (though I usually leave the keel down when cruising). In any event, I put the boat to bed and on the drive home contemplated my options.
The next morning (this morning) I headed back to the boat with a couple of piece so hardwood, some wood clamps, and a plan. I managed to MacGyver a way of clamping the hardwood on either side of the exiting cable, and by jamming the wood up on the companionway coaming, was able to take the tension off the cable. After about 5 minutes of futzing (and a few salty expressions) I was able to clear the cable.
While I was in there, I greased the winch sprockets and wound up the slack, removed the MacGyver clamps, and voila – back to normal.
Madsu’s getting new through-hulls this week. A rare shot of her with the swing keel down.
Even a little boat like Madsu looks big up on the hard.
Madsu is sporting brand new lifelines. Pip at Pro-Tech Yacht Services in North Vancouver put them together for me – he and the gang also did my standing rigging last spring.
“Life lines” ia a misnomer. You shouldn’t rely on them for your life. Consider them as a tool for marking the perimeter of your deck. They are an excellent place from which to hang fenders, or your laundry.
Catalina 22’s of Madsu’s vintage had very awkwardly sighted navigation lights.
The bow light is actually behind the forestay and stem head fitting – not the best for visiblity. And if I happen to have dropped the foresail on the deck, the light would usually get covered up. See if you can even find the bow light in this picture of Madsu at the dock.
The stern light was a bit better, though mounted on the deck port-side, and not always visible. While legal, these old lights have always made me nervous, particularly because I love night sailing.
So, before putting Madsu in the water this year I wanted to install new fore and aft nav lights, up on the pulpit/pushpit where they’d be seen.
Finding lights at Steveston Marine was easy – I got some nice Perko lights on sale – but mounting them on Madsu’s 1 inch pulpit and pushpit rails would be the challenge.
Catalina Direct sells a pulpit mount for over 30.00 dollars, and given the shipping and brokerage, it seemed like a crazy amount of money to spend. So I decided to make my own (and spend a crazy amount of time to save a few bucks).
A few years ago I had purchased some stainless rail mount brackets (for a the traveler setup), and still had a few extra.
What I needed was some sort of plate to mount the lights on. So, out came the jig saw and a piece of aluminum plate I had bought when I made the backing plates for the new winches.
I cut the plates, thinking I’d use 2 rail mounts on the bow light – but later opted to simplify with one (a good choice). A little work with a grinder, then a file, then my Dremel tool, and the plates came out looking pretty great.
Next, I tapped holes for mounting the lights, and for securing the plate to the rail mounts. I (and others) like to sit on the pulpit on a nice summer day, and with the mounting screws tapped, there’ll be no bolts protruding.
I wasn’t really up for drilling holes in the rail tubing and trying to chase the wiring through – I ran the wiring externally and secured it with self-amalgamating (rigging) tape. If it turns out to be a nuisance, I’ll chase the wires inside the tubing next year.
Now I’ve got an additional level of comfort sailing at night, knowing that Madsu’s bow and stern light are visible.
We went out for an evening sail a few nights ago – a pretty big change in weather from even just a few days ago.
It was cool and threatening rain, and despite the weather office removing the wind warning, it was still gusty with lots of chop.
Our friends didn’t seem to mind – they were just happy to be out on a sailboat an d with Madsu’s main reefed and the 100% jib hanked on, we were making pretty good progress to weather.
We were the only sailboat out and tacked across from West Van to Bowen a couple of times.
I figured we should head in before it got too dark and colder. Reaching along the West Van shore near Whytecliff Park I decided to drop the jib and sail under main alone. It was now pretty much dark, and I dumped the main and lowered the motor to take us home.
Just as I pulled on the recoil cord to start the outboard, the cord snapped, right near the handle. It must have been really frayed as the pull didn’t even turn the motor over, and here I was with the pull start handle in my hand, the sails down, and the motor not running.
Fortunately, we had done a few things right. When I’m sailing solo I always give myself lots of room and lots of time to get stuff done, and even though I had crew last night, I’d done the same.
We were 2 or 3 cables off the shore, so had a bit of sea room – lots of time to get the sails back up if necessary. We also were not on a lee shore. Horseshoe Bay is a busy ferry terminal and I always raise and douse sails well away from the ferry track. I was glad I had done so tonight, as I looked out into the dark to see the Bowen Ferry approaching.
I popped the lid on the outboard and realized I couldn’t really see too much in the dark, and wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of trying to fiddle with the recoil line in a sloppy chop. The Evinrude has a great big flywheel up top, and sure enough, it’s got a groove built-in for wrapping a line.
The groove is quite narrow – probably the same as the recoil line itself which I learn later is 5/32″ line – and I don’t have anything that small on the boat. I did manage to find a couple of feet of 1/4″ line in my skipper bag, and though it was barely recessed in the groove slot, I was able to wrap it ONCE around the flywheel.
One pull.
Two pulls.
With only one wrap around the flywheel, I’m not getting much momentum, but the motor is a notoriously good starter, so I figure it’s going to fire.
Should I choke and risk flooding it?
Sure, let’s choke.
Choke.
One more pull. Choke Off.
Pull. She fired right up, and we motored in without further mishap.
It was a good lesson though. I’m always pretty cautious when dousing sails and motoring up to get to the moorage. I’ve been caught on a lee shore before, and it isn’t anything I ever want to repeat, so I tend to give myself a lot of room – I was glad I did on this night.
No matter how well maintained your vessel – things break. I keep Madsu is top shape, and since the outboard had been serviced in the spring, including a new recoil line, this caught me totally unawares.
What I didn’t realize is that the recoil line was chafing against the casing – there is a soft metal sleeve or grommet to keep chafe down, but it had worn through and the line was slowly cut through from friction against the casing. I now have an emergency line of the right width in my bag, in case I have to use the flywheel to start up again.
Finally, I was grateful for a motor that starts well, and another good reason to keep it serviced and running properly.
This is the grommet meant to protect the recoil line as it passes through the motor casing. It’s soft metal, brass I think.
You can see how it’s worn away in one spot – that’s because of the extreme angle required to pull the line when the motor is down and in the water. The starter handle sits tight against this grommet when the line is attached and I hadn’t noticed how it had worn right through. Every pull was cutting through the line.
The Repair:
I did get a new grommet from Lorship Marine on Victoria Drive. It’s essentially a tube, pre-flared at one end. You insert it from the inside of the motor casing, then hand flare the outside.
Once I’d cut out the old grommet, I had to remove part of the carb in order to be able to insert the grommet through the casing.
Then I had to flare the tube on the outside – I found a flaring tool at Home Depot which got things started ok, then finished off withe some gentle work with the ball peen hammer. I had to jam a piece of hardwood in to support the inside end of the grommet while I flared the outside. The flaring tool did an excellent job of getting a nice consistent shape to the start of the flare, and with some light touches with the hammer, I was able to get a really nicely shaped grommet by the end of it.
I had taken the motor off the boat and worked on it at home. It would have been a really difficult job with the motor still on the boat, so I was glad I was able to do the repair here, as opposed to while out cruising.
