eco-boat

My Work Hat.....

2011-03-25T10:53:00.000-07:00

Small Passenger Vessel Assumed Passenger Weight Change

On December 1, 2011, all US passenger vessels will be required to operate under limitations imposed using an assumed average passenger weight of 185 lbs. Operators are responsible for determining before that time how they will incorporate this change into their vessels. Intent must be submitted to the Coast Guard in writing. This discussion is specific to subchapter “T” vessels with stability verification via 46 CFR, part 178, also refered to as the Simplified Stability Test (SST.)

Background fromWikipedia:

The Ethan Allen was a 40-foot, glass-enclosed tour boat operated by Shoreline Cruises on Lake George in upstate New York. On October 2, 2005, at 2:55 p.m., with 47 passengers–all from Michigan and Ohio and mostly seniors–aboard, the Ethan Allen capsized and sank just south of Cramer Point in the Town of Lake George. Twenty passengers died and 27 survived. The accident caused government regulators to consider new laws on passenger boat capacity.

Impact:

The final rule making stemming from this accident is now implemented. In addition to several procedural changes, the rule stipulates that the assumed weight per passenger carried will be increased to 185 lbs. Vessels previously underwent stability analyses for assumed average weights of 140 lbs each, 160 lbs each or 165 lbs each depending on factors such as vessel size and service. Without re-evaluation, a vessel will be assumed capable of carrying the same total passenger weight, but divided by a larger weight per person. Most small (under 65’) launch vessels operating in protected water would have been evaluated using a simplified stability test and an assumed 140 lbs per person. These vessels, without new analysis, will be required to reduce passenger count by approximately 25%.

The Simplified Stability Test (SST) is a procedure intended to alleviate the need for 3 dimensional hull shape information. As such, it is favored for smaller vessels whose value or construction documentation level do not support a more detailed naval architecture approach. The limitation of the SST is that it yields a simple pass/fail indication and not adequate numerical data upon which to base later modifications. After modification, a new test must be conducted. This was the primary underlying cause in the Ethan Allen disaster, and is common to a lesser extent in modified production vessels granted sister status from an earlier test. Further limitation is that the test is conducted for a previously determined passenger capacity, often based on seating or standing room. In other words, the test is not designed to optimize capacity based on stability. A trial and error approach is necessary to correct for failure to meet the applicable standards at reduced passenger count.

Viewed from another perspective, the new passenger weight regulation provides vessel owners with an incentive of up to 25% passenger capacity to update or at least become familiar with their vessel’s stability profile. Most operators and many builders do not understand or retain the stability test report that determined their passenger capacity. This is recognized from the Ethan Allen accident as a great danger since it often masks the effects of cumulative changes over the life of the vessel.

Moving Forward:

To comply with the new required passenger weight, vessels not otherwise in question regarding stability will be given the option to take a passenger capacity reduction. This will be in direct proportion to the original assumed weight divided by 185 lbs. Many owners will chose this option based on cost, convenience, and normal operation patterns. Since I have never encountered a commercial vessel operator who wished for less allowed capacity, I believe this approach is in error. Even if the allowed capacity is carried in only a small percentage of operations, it is lost on each and every trip. Given the short run of this vessel type, the loss during peak demand will rapidly exceed the cost of a new evaluation. While true that convenience will be the impact most often felt, peak demand such as special events will potentially result in fewer passengers able to be served overall.

The first step for any passenger vessel owner is to obtain a copy of the stability test report (form CG-4006) that authorized their current passenger capacity. This should not be confused with a stability letter or inspection certificate. In some cases these SST reports are on file with the Coast Guard office that provided construction or modification inspection oversight. This document is as vital to the safe operation of the vessel as the certificates of inspection, documentation, and insurance. It is also the one piece of information that can allow a naval architect to discuss the cost benefit advantages of a new SST. In all cases, the last conducted test is of great value in planning modification or a new test.

If this document cannot be obtained, the vessel is being operated on faith that it exists as it was tested. Whether this is true or not is subject to many considerations, but it is irrefutable that no operator ever has complete accounting of cumulative modifications to a vessel while it is floating right side up. Since the foundation of a vessel is fluid, there is no insignificant change. The immediate penalty for this head-in-the sand approach is an automatic capacity reduction, whether safety standards deem it necessary or not. The ultimate penalty was paid in the Ethan Allen disaster.

Finally, for those vessels lacking direct documentation, and for those whose limitations are shown in the original SST to have been imposed by factors other than total passenger weight, the vessel should be re-tested. A new SST is not an expensive undertaking. One working day is often adequate for the procedure. Materials can be as simple as empty 55 gallon drums, a good pump and wood blocking. In some cases the SST is conducted entirely by Coast Guard inspectors. Where optimization of owner concerns is preferred, and for increased veracity of the results, the involvement of a naval architect is advisable. If modifications are contemplated or the starting point is otherwise uncertain, a preliminary “dry run” is useful.

It cannot always be guaranteed that the outcome from this work will match that desired. Particularly for vessels lacking all prior documentation, owners are cautioned that the result obtained will be safe, if not all that was requested. There are cases where original tests are discovered to have been in error. There are others where modifications have augmented or reduced safe capacity. More than half of the new tests I have conducted have resulted in full passenger capacity being retained at the higher assumed weight. There are, however, no cases where a passenger count either higher or lower than imposed by safety standards is in the best long term interests of the vessel owner.

Boat Farts: Being a Treatise on the Role of the Passive Senses in Seamanship

2010-10-21T13:54:00.000-07:00

I recently viewed a humorous U-tube spot on the role of gaseous effluvia as an indication of relationship phase. Goofy- yes, but much truth is spoke in jest.

This got me thinking about how similar one’s relationship with the boat-home is to a human relationship. There is, in fact, a branch of marine services known as ship husbandry. It has nothing to do with marriage, except that it is about an individual getting to know a ship as well as if it were a spouse. I sometimes muse on this field when I hear of places where living aboard a boat full time is restricted or outright banned. There was a not distant time when constant human presence was required on many commercial vessels.

But I digress. The topic at hand is that of how time and familiarity grant a subconscious monitoring system of our vessels through the passive senses of sound and smell. Feel is an equally valid sense, though probably too broadly defined for me to cover here.

I will start with smell. I do this at least in part as a result of a very “fresh” experience with an O.P.B. (other person’s boat.)

There is no more potent player in the olfactory indicator game than the black water or sanitary system on a boat. On a recent delivery, a failed hose connection in this system resulted in a nose-hair searing night before the bilges could be opened and the defect repaired. This would be on the “why my composting toilet is my friend” list. In a less “in your face” example, the exhalation of the holding tank vent can indicate to the experienced nose, exactly how close one is to a pump-out need. The compost head equivalent is that the more one feels in proximity to a newly plowed field on approach to the vent, the nearer it is time to empty the chamber into the post-composter and start a new batch.

Stepping up a half notch from the gutter, the gray or waste wash water system is next in line as a nasal assault weapon. I use the leg from a pair of nylons as a filter on each of the drain inlets to my waste water sump tank. I can’t quantify, but I know it’s an effective way to catch most of the run off that my pump would choke on, and consequently, most of the nitrogen source that would grow into odoriferous sludge in the tank. But over time, the filters get clogged and need to be replaced. When the water pumped out has any detectable odor, I can be sure the “filters” are full and it’s time to put on a good disguise and hit the ladies’ lingerie section at Wallyworld.

And now, exiting the poop-deck, I will bring the discussion into more civilized surroundings. Almost. The bilge is a great receiver of smell sources known and unknown. I once did battle for months with a bilge sludge that looked and smelled like petroleum slime. It was a classic case of mistaken identity, false prosecution, and the domino effect all in one. I scrubbed and vacuumed countless times. I wrapped the engine in diapers like a new born’s bottom. Not a drip could be found, but still the stinky sludge grew like a Purdue chicken on double steroids. The problem persisted until one morning in Marigot, St. Martin, I discovered numerous empty Coke cans in the bottom tier of the drink mixers locker. These, in turn were corroded through by pinhole a leak in the anchor washdown hose running through that locker. The sludge-like goo was growing on the Coke-a-Cola syrup. So you see, my friends, what mixeth well with rum makes for nasty bilge stink too. For the sake of my personal bilges, I’ve switched my staple sundowner from the Cuba-Libre to rum and tonic. The quinine helps keep the malaria at bay too.

Engine antifreeze is environmentally bad stuff. Even the Low and non-tox stuff has a very distinct sweet smell. This is good in that it makes itself known quickly when it is not where it’s supposed to be. It’s bad when you tear apart your cooling system looking for the leak only to discover it’s a pin-hole in the spare jug in the sail locker. Incidentally, that one has caused me to pack all my bottles of spare fluids and spray cans in ziplocks with absorptive material in the bag.

Finally, the galley has it’s own passive indicator. I cook with propane. Yes- it can be dangerous. Yes- I have an electronic sniffer gadget to make noise if it leaks. And yes, I do occasionally test said gadget with butane lighter gas to make sure it’s working. But on a more routine basis, I have become sensitized to the smell of burned propane to the point that I can detect the end of the one cylinder in my system a day or two in advance. For some reason, the odor making component added to propane is most concentrated just before the tank is empty. The burned gas odor is noticeably stronger with this last blast of gas.

Sound is my other favorite passive sense onboard. In fact, I will often make a game of guessing exactly what a sound is for a while before I actively go hunt it down. I also believe that the premonition of impending danger that so often warns sailors before a collision has to do with sound transferred into the drum-like interior of the boat through the water. I have known this experience and would almost classify the prop noise as felt more than heard as it was more a pressure pulse felt in the ear.

Engine monitoring is a good example. The ear desensitizes to white noise after a while, but can remain quite alert to changes in that noise even in sleep. Once on a delivery I awoke after sensing a change in engine RPM and went on deck to see if there was a problem. I was assured no one had touched the throttle. I was just voicing a thought about checking the fuel filter vacuum gauges when the engine slowed and stopped. Clogged fuel filter. On Charis, I do not have fuel filter gauges, but I know at the first drop in RPM that it’s time to switch filters.

My mainsail cover is old and the snaps are getting loose. In strong wind it flaps a bit, but if I listen carefully, I can tell when that flapping includes a snap that has released. This vigilance comes from the hard lesson of sanding and varnishing on the boom after the loose snap ends gouged it badly.

Sometimes they stump you for days. A loose headsail sheet got me this way recently. It was just loose enough to flap its turning block from side to side, yet smart enough to cease to do so every time I put my kindle down to go find the noise source. I was no speed reader that day.

I have a fail safe in my anchor roller system based on noise. If it starts to blow hard enough to decrease the anchor or mooring line catenary’s angle, the line will begin to snag on the big plow. The clanging noise below is impossible to sleep through and can only be cured by properly inverting the anchors to prevent chafe.

Halyard clanging is a hot topic of contention. I do my best to control it, but with external halyards, it seems it can never be entirely eliminated. The game, though, is to get to where you can tell which halyard is in motion, and by that and the frequency, from which quarter the wind is blowing and how hard.

The wind turbine is another audible wind indicator. I wish it were silent, but since it is not, I have simply learned to associate noise amplitude and pitch with a wind speed and power production level. Must be time to replace it soon and try to learn this trick all over again.

That’s what happened with the old Jabsco reciprocating water pump. I swear I could just about predict when the tanks were about to run dry based on a subconscious counter of the number of pump pulses heard or seen by the flicker of the cabin lights. My new variable speed wobbler-plate pump is far to stealthy for me to have any premonition of empty tanks.

And could someone please tell me why mooring pick up floats are always cylindrical? Flat sided ones would float just as well and would not roll side to side on the deck just above my head in strong winds. Come to think of it, I might just market such a thing myself. It would certainly be nice to eliminate that particular "thunk, thunk" wake up call.

I realize that some of this might come across as impossible sounding (pun intended.) But the thing to remember is that Charis and I have been fairly inseparable for 20 years now. This, in a boat as in a relationship, must have evolved my involuntary senses along pathways that even I can’t understand. It’s scary in a way, but comforting in many ways. More than anything, this is the reason I advocate cruising in a familiar boat over a big or new boat. Obviously this idea carries further limitations, but all things within reason.

As a teaser to a later treatise on the role of the sense of feel in seamanship, I will mention 2 examples. First, noted expert on primitive navigation techniques, David Lewis, reported that Polynesian pilots would sit astride the cross beams of their catamarans to sense the ocean swell motion with their most sensitive parts. True or false I cannot confirm, except to say that they were invariably male. And lastly in an unabashed brag, I once steered a heavy displacement sloop on a reach with hull speed in excess of apparent wind speed for over an hour in my sleep. My watch mate will swear to it without coercion. Wind on my cheeks and wheel against my hand were my only conscious functions, apparently. But then that’s my favorite state awake too, so no surprise there.

Take the time to develop your instincts, then let instinct be your most valuable seamanship skill.

Trying to Maintain Reason in Hurricane Season….

2010-09-01T11:28:00.001-07:00

The best way to learn something is to explain it. Several times. To that end, here’s a first draft of my storm preparation plan, a.k.a., “the drill.” To date it has existed only in my head and been performed in a state of manic frenzy.

For the simple reason that most dock owners will not allow boats on their docks in extreme conditions, this assumes your boat is on a mooring.

This is by no means an absolute or complete list. In fact, this is the blog entry I hope to expand most by viewer comment, so please feel free to add and modify my ideas with yours!

Phase I: Given likely time constraints, this is generally done at the first indication of potential weather exceeding normal storm intensity.
1. Get all seasonal toys that would otherwise soon be removed anyway off the boat. Kayaksand awnings on deck, as well as seasonal toys in the lockers are included.
2. Inspect the mooring top to bottom. It doesn’t matter if someone else just did this. It’s your boat not theirs. Leave nothing as is if it causes doubt. Never, ever rely on a single attachment to your primary mooring chain. I consider 2 lines to be the minimum. Obviously this requires vigilance to prevent twisting and therefore chafe of the lines on each other. Extra length in one of the two lines is helpful. See below for thoughts on line stretch snubbers.

Phase II: This stage kicks in for me when Tropical storm conditions become likely and Hurricane conditions become maybe.
1. Strip headsails from their furlers and stow. Furling gear is often overwhelmed in high winds, and even a tiny patch of sail will increase the amount of mooring sailing your boat does. That in turn results in acceleration loads on your mooring gear, and acceleration loads are what break gear, unless chafe gets it first.
2. Flip your anchors or take them out of the roller. Whatever angle your mooring lines make under normal conditions, it will be less of an angle under extreme load. Anchors love to chafe through mooring lines that saw over them.

3. Haul out extra dinghies or other toys. You can put them back in later. The idea is to get them out of your field of focus until the weather is past. For me, this means simplifying down to my most utilitarian work skiff.
4. Get the rest of the stuff you don’t absolutely need off the deck. Grill, Solar panels, radar reflector, wind vane removable parts, etc.
5. Cover the woodstove or heater pipe.
6. Prepare storm anchors but don’t set them until the last minute to reduce fouling with the primary mooring.
7. Gather bags or boxes for later use in offloading boat gear should the threat increase.
8. Gather tires and or fenders to set down both sides of the hull if deemed necessary. Remember to strap them under the hull as the wind will lift them otherwise.

Phase III: Depending on track and intensity, but almost for certain with any hurricane watch issued…
1. Strip the deck completely. As in everything not bolted down. The sailing dinghy, liferaft, all canvas, wind turbine, liferings, cockpit table, and cushions are on my list.
2. Remove the boom and mainsail. Sails don’t have to be raised to create sail area. In strong winds, even a bare boom can generate a startling amount of force.
3. Offload electronics and personal gear. In the event of the worse case scenario, best not to rely on human nature to prevent this stuff from being stolen.
4. Remove and cap cowl vents.
5. Set storm anchors. Allow plenty of extra scope so they do not foul the main mooring lines. Fouled lines will cut each other under a load. A triangle pattern is considered best, but only if you can be relatively sure they won’t twist together. Some prefer a shackled connection underwater with a swivel and single lead up to the bow. I personally have seen too many failed swivels and will never trust one. To allow plenty of slack in the storm anchor rodes, I favor flaking out extra line and chain on deck and securing it down with breakable light lashings. The theory here is that in the event of the boat dropping back on the storm anchors, the load would pull out more scope, resulting in better holding power. I know this could result in overlap with another boat, but I consider the storm anchors to be absolute last resort anyway. At that point in a failure scenario, it would simply be about staying off the beach.
(Charis's 200 lb Danforth storm anchor)
6. If possible, install line snubbers to absorb stretch in a known location. Line stretch under load is generally distributed over length. Chafe through occurs where this stretch movement coincides with immovable hardware (like a chock or bobstay.) It’s essential to have chafing gear in those locations, but more can be accomplished by focusing the line stretch in a location away from the hard contact areas. Over the years I have used most of the commercially available rubber snubbers (haven’t tried the metal spring type yet,) and have even resorted to pulling a slack loop in the primary mooring line by splicing in a piece of lighter, more stretch prone nylon. Anything will help.
7. Think about what you are attaching to on your boat. More often than not, the strength of the mooring gear is greater than the combined strength of the attachment hardware for one cleat. Spread the loads with multiple attachment points. I favor the “spiderweb” approach. This is where I take the primary load from the mooring lines to a heavy line spliced in a continuous loop around the cabin trunk. Spliced into this loop are multiple light pieces of 3 strand nylon, in turn secured at each piece of substantial hardware (winches, cleats, turning blocks…) These lighter lines are further stretch points, relieving shock strain on the rest of the mooring system. They are also sacrificial. If you set this up correctly, loss of all lines of the web will transfer the load to the cabin trunk. And only after subsequent loss of that spliced loop does the deck hardware get loaded at all. I stress splices here because any other attachment reduces line strength unacceptably for the anticipated circumstances. Remember that all of these lines will stretch and provide chafe protection where they contact each other.

8. Keep your ear to the track and if you find out any of your neighbors’ boats are worth more dead than alive, persuade them by any means to find a more decrepit mooring away from yours. I’ve known too many cases of one man’s ill gain being another’s sad loss. I have actually gone so far as to strip sails and increase mooring attachment on unattended threatening boats. Right or wrong, you do what you need to when your home is at stake.

Moving line items from one phase to another is to be expected depending on your circumstances and available time, assistance, and materials. Over the next few days, I expect to think of more line items. I wish I didn’t have to. This is not my favorite part of living afloat. But everyone has to contend with some form of man vs. nature threat. On the water, it just comes in big doses.

I’m often asked before a storm if I’m ready. No. If you are paying attention, you are never ready. You can only be as ready as time allows. My gauge for the adequacy of my preparation is quite simple. If I illicit a response of mocking laughter from at least 3 passing dinghies before the storm, I feel like my chances are better than even. Ridiculous has often proven just adequate. Be sure, if the worse scenario unfolds, there will be more than 3 people passing after in horrified shock. Preparations are easily undone if you still have a boat when it’s over.

Go forth and be ridiculous. Feel free to border on hilarious if you are upwind of me. And good luck all.

(Please note that these ideas are cumulative and the pictures somewhat dated. Not all ideas are shown.)

Solar Skiff Early Observations

2010-08-31T15:24:00.001-07:00

(CJM pics)

Mostly qualitative and maybe a little quantitative…Please remember that the data collection has just started.

My first comment is that I inadvertently built a solar powered ice-breaker! Not in the polar sense, but most definitely in the social sense. It’s always been one of my favorite parts of cruising to wander aimlessly about the anchorage and chat around sunset. And I have no aversion to responsible sundowner consumption. But the truth is, it’s not always easy to engage in conversation with folks you don’t want to disturb. Circe has solved this problem. The interest and enthusiasm expressed already has been wonderful. Kids, particularly, seem enthusiastic about what they see. This is encouraging, and I try to make the point that they see only a seedling sprout that their generation will nurture into things we cannot even imagine. So maybe after all these years, the urge to learn to farm is fulfilled from a different angle.

The reactions to date seem to fit into 3 file folders.
(1) There are, as there will always be, the totally unimpressed. No, solar skiff does not plane (except under tow.) Yes, that is as fast as she goes (3.5 knots subject to later prop pitch experimentation.) I was a bit taken aback at the first unimpressed reaction coming from an 18’ catboat sailor though…”Who you callin’slow??”
(2) Then there are the incredulous. “Does that really work?” is their mantra. To date, my retort has been “You see it.” Though, I am thinking about concocting a story about a trained team of bluefish in harness for these folks. The fact is, The battery bank that drives this boat has never been charged by any means other than the 90 watt solar array. I guess I have run some 30 to 40 hours so far. Good that it’s been sunny!
(3) The reactions that make it seem worthwhile are the enthusiastic ones. If something can be demonstrated on a small scale, it will create belief in what can be done on a larger scale. I don’t deny that alternate energy is still about bending over to collect pennies, but just so, 100 of those make a dollar.

On the equipment side, I am so far on voltage regulator #3, motor speed control switch #2, circuit breaker #2, and ammeter #2. The voltage regulators packaged with the solar panels seemed to be black boxes full of pretty beads. They simply never worked. It wasn’t a rating or a connection issue. They were just junk. The SunSaver presently installed is correctly keeping the batteries at a bank voltage of 14.4 or below. I may eventually install a bypass switch for a now-and–then 15 volt blast charge to clean the battery plates, but that will be a winter project. The used trolling motor was less gently used than I hoped. The switch was crunchy and intermittently dropped out of the highest speed setting from day 1, so I had a replacement switch on order from Minn Kota when it eventually smoked (literally!) I got a humble pill when a gas dinghy passed and I thought – “Wow what stinky exhaust. Huh it’s lingering. Smells more like plastic. Whoah- there’s smoke coming out of my motor switch!” Still got back to Charis at low speed, so the oars remain unused. The circuit breaker was upgraded from the original 50 amp rating at the recommendation of Minn Kota. The ammeter replacement was prompted by a short lived attempt to power it with a non-isolated power transformer. Electronic optimism ends abruptly when smoke appears. At present we are all-systems-go.

The slightly numerical observation to date is that I have run at full speed for up to 4 hours at a stretch (subject to social stops) with power to spare. Recovery time varies with use and sun strength, but so far I have had no problem enjoying harbor cruises and my short daily commute on a break even basis. Actual numbers are being logged and will be compiled when there are enough of them to make sense of.

On the qualitative side, the most commented on feature of the skiff is that it is silent. I did a dumb thing to test how silent. One evening I watched two outboard dinghies approach (at a respectable distance) an osprey nest on a pole. The residents sounded their dissatisfaction when they were each at least 20 feet away. I got much closer, but realized then that sneaking up on a sharp talon bird of prey is not hugely brilliant. Since, I have limited my bird stealth to cranes, herons, gulls and such. Because I can sit very still, I find I can approach closer than even in my kayak. This brought about an interesting epiphany for me- That noise is pollution too. In truth, I already felt that way, but I guess I just never put silence on the goal list for this project. Bonus. Next to be noticed are the panels themselves, followed, I would say, by my choice of a fairly traditional Whitehall hull shape, and a rather pretty one at that. Since her hull lines are not mine, I am not being vain. I read once that a good boat cannot be walked away from without at least one back glance. Circe has that going for her.

Rigged for towing....

(Photos by Gavin Ashworth – NYC)

Solar Skiff Spreads Her Wings...

2010-07-28T17:00:00.000-07:00

After much itchy fiberglass work, completion is near. The Solar panels are on and the batteries installed. So far the systems all seem to be working. The Ammeter is still waiting for a power converter, and appears at present to display only energy flow into the batteries. I had hoped it would display both charge and use power flow, but may have ordered the wrong meter. Easily fixed in good time. Today I made and installed fenders and the bow pudding, and the official hull number was assigned by the State. If memory serves, the itch of glass fibers embedded in the skin will linger for a few more days, but if this all works as planned, it will have been worth it.

Solar Skiff the Embryo

2010-07-15T08:25:00.000-07:00

It was only a matter of time before I outgrew the use of small solar gadgets in the commuter dinghy and moved on to test the concept of pulling my propulsion power from the sun. Not that I consider myself to be breaking ground here - many have done much more in this field. I thank them for the inspiration. I'm quite sure that many others out there right now have worked out similar schemes or are in the process. I guess it was the same for every other mechanical concept from the wheel on up. The project if one of personal discovery and research. It's about answering my own questions and being better at answering other people's questions later.

The slant I am approaching this question from is one I have felt strongly about for some time. It's the half step back, full step forward approach. Prior to the second world war, power densities available were small from internal combustion engines. To compensate, the emphasis was on efficient hull form. These days, emphasis seems to focus on everything but hull efficiency with power installed in unlimited quantities to suit. Seems to me that in applying a low power density propulsion scheme, it would be smart to revert to such hull forms as were used before there was high density power. It's all good and well to drive your inflatable with an electric motor, but since it was designed for planing speed with a gas outboard, you will probably be operating in the least efficient speed range. My tack was to start with a hull designed for the lowest power density - rowing. Specifically, my electric drive conversion is based on a Whitehall hull.

This project has been a slow gathering of pieces from far and wide. Ken Flowers, an exceptional lobster boat builder up in Maine came through with the molded hull shell of perfect dimensions for this small scale beta project. Solar panels and electrical components have been trickling in from E-Bay and other online sources. Wood's Boats in RI came through with an affordable gently used salt water trolling motor. I suppose if you really looked at the overall system energy of this project, it may not really be as close to zero impact as I'd like - what with all the shipping involved. But as with most things, I think what is important is the avenue of thought. It's the channeling of creative energy toward a better solution.

So here's the embryonic version of solar skiff. Not especially pretty at present. and maybe even a bit hard to recognize for what she is intended to be. But for all of that, it's the start to a start. I suppose that in itself warrants documentation. And besides, I'm told it's the progress that gets noticed. Maybe the embryo stage will make later imperfections less noticeable!

Cool Ideas

2010-07-15T08:19:00.000-07:00

I’m starting to think that just as cars now are only available with everything that was once called an option, boats are only being offered with bow thrusters, generators, and air conditioning. A quick survey of the weekend arrivals is pushing the 50% threshold anyhow. What happened to sailing to quiet places to be cooled by summer sea breeze and invigorated by a swim and fresh air? I never have been “like the other kids,” but I just can’t see the attraction of going from shore power air conditioning to anchored out generator air conditioning.

Here’s my air conditioning unit. Pretty simple. Think it was marketed as the “Wind Scoop” once upon a time. It’s fairly effective, though it does get a bit wonky in places where wind and tide oppose. The plus side is no generator, no circulator pump, and no compressor. And correspondingly no fossil fuel consumption. The air smells nice too. I don’t think I’d thrive on 35’ of recirculated air. I suppose the downside is not having that sense of security so many cruisers in the era of entitlement draw from a pulsing internal combustion engine.

And another cool idea that needs no juice… latent heat of evaporation is the concept. I think I first read about this in a C.S Forester novel. But I thank good science teachers for my understanding of the concept. In simplest terms, when water evaporates, heat is absorbed. That’s why we feel cold in wet clothes in a breeze, even on a hot day. Applied to the new favored stainless water bottles, this principle provides a refreshing temperature drop, though not the jolt of icewater. My specific setup seems to work well with an old gym sock (preferably recently laundered,) slipped over the water bottle. Fuzzy side out evaporates, hence cools better. Michael Jackson fans might go in for one white glove instead. Same concept. Hang the setup in a shaded spot with good exposure to the wind. Even with refrigeration, this setup is great as it keeps the hydration near to hand, reduces cold loss from frequent refrigerator openings, and makes you feel smart just for knowing the concept! Try it. Some folks will think you strange for wearing 1 gym sock on your water bottle and none on your feet, but they will suffer that thought over a tepid water bottle.

I won't get started on the bow thruster standard option now used in lieu of the rudder and engine for steering...It will just make me cranky.

To Have and to Have Not

2010-07-06T18:47:00.000-07:00

Hottest day of the summer so far. I’m anchored outside of a harbor I’ve been coming to for 20 years. Anchored because I find the 500% increase in mooring rental offensive. Anchored because I can. And anchored because frequently I find the company more interesting.

Today’s human theater is played by contrasting families. A bit further out is anchored a young live-aboard family. Their aura speaks of simplicity. They row past daily. Mom and dad to shore in the morning. Mom back to pick up dad on the beach in the evening. Never in a hurry, Always with time for a friendly hello. A boy and a girl, neither more than 5 years old, and both as much dolphin as human judging by their comfort in the ocean.
Nearer by and on a $50 a night rental mooring is your classic weekend cruiser on vacation. His outfit is more modern and includes an inflatable with a planning speed outboard motor. His children might be comfortable on the water, but it’s hard to say as they seem permanently wrapped in their life vests. Not that this is a bad thing. In fact, given the rest of the story, it seems wise.

So I mentioned it was a scortcher today. 103 degrees inland. It was a great day to be in the water. Probably a great day to be a kid in the water too.

First the rowboat went by. Mom pulling patiently at the oars. Dad waiting patiently on the beach. Children dressed as they were born frolicking behind the dinghy with one of those dime store inflatable pool toys. They really did remind me of a couple of trained dolphins swimming along behind the dinghy. As they went by, mom quieted them to explain that they shouldn’t shriek quite so much as someone might mistake their joy for distress and jump in to rescue them. “The little boy who cried wolf “ story in a real life framework. I guess a lot of folks would be upset by this scene. No lifejackets on the kids. No lifejacket on mom to set an example. Yet somehow I only want to thank them for being real. I want to thank them for understanding that there is more safety in learning to be comfortable on the water and in learning practical common sense seamanship than in any wearable device. If there were 2 happier kids on this island today I didn’t see them. And while there are days to teach the importance of manmade safety on the water, today just seemed ideal to teach safety through comfort and skills with nothing more than one was born wearing.

Buzzing around at the same time was vacation dad. His two tow heads were bouncing about, apparently too much in fear for their lives to even scream. Or maybe just bored. It’s hard to tell sometimes. They were riding one of those marine store inflatable tubes with handles and bright graphics all over it. They were sucking down outboard fumes at a brain damaging clip, but it’s OK since it was one of those heavy but “clean” 4 stroke outboards. The seamanship they were learning would be better unlearned – it’s illegal to buzz around within 100 ft of moored boats at planning speed in this state. But then I’m pretty sure dad is oblivious to this fact. So will the kids be. They will probably also be hard to convince later in life that their entitlement to fun does not exceed others’ entitlement to a peaceful afternoon free of the side effects of their fun. They began learning today that it’s OK to drive stupidly as long as you have a seatbelt and airbags. But they didn’t seem to be coming near enough to hit anything, and even if they did, they were surrounded by inflatable things and wearing bulletproof life vests. And I am not one to interfere with “intelligent design” as Mr, Darwin’s work is now known.

But the lingering question in this scene is who has and who has not? I guess I was a little bit of both examples growing up. Probably still am. But today, from where I was sitting, it was the slow, simple fun I most admired. I could only feel sorry for the frenetic family. Today it was my fellow dwellers on the fringe that clearly had it best. I know which set of kids I hope grow up to run my world.

Spilled oil and Socialism....

2010-05-29T11:30:00.000-07:00

Lots of chatter going around about the gulf oil spill. Guess I figured it was time to check in again and organize my thoughts on the matter. That and it’s sailing season again, so I find myself with time in peaceful places to have thoughts on such things…

In a nutshell, which is how many would describe my cranium, I’m as angry about the oil spill as most everyone, though I think my anger is differently directed. It’s easy to go on a witch hunt at times like this and look for a scapegoat. It’s pretty much a natural reaction. What really upsets me is that with such an obvious example before us, most people still don’t get it. The witch hunt ends in front of the nearest mirror. I’m not angry with BP. I’m angry with America for blissfully ignoring the fact that our monster SUV’s, Mc Mansions, excesses and conveniences sent them in search of the spilled oil to begin with.

Think about it. Oil companies answer our demands. They may make more money at it than we like, but there’s no profit in drilling up even one barrel more than we buy. I’m not defending record profits and price fixing. I’m simply stating that if you do not demand and show willingness to consume a commodity, it will not be produced.

I’d love to replace my 24 year old mini truck. Trouble is, the new one has more horsepower, along with standard power everything and AC. So it gets 5 mpg less. The option for simplicity and only adequate power has been taken away. Why? Because, so I’m told, that’s what America wants.

I grew up in a house without Air Conditioning. Not even a window unit. And we survived. My Grandparents did too. Now I know lots of people in debt to their ears, who wouldn’t dream of not cranking the A/C as soon as the mercury hits 70. In fact, I’m not sure I know anyone else who lives without A/C today. Well folks, A/C is electricity and electricity is oil.

Lots of folks will react to the current mess insisting that the answer is more government oversight. More rules and standards. More inspections and police work. That might help slide the odds slightly in a safer direction. But a fraction of a percent improvement in the odds is meaningless when the numerator in the equation is exponential growth in use and consumption. Basic probability says that accidents will occur in some percentile relation to the quantity of oil drilled, refined and transported. It is simply unrealistic to expect, in a world of human and nature factors, an accident rate of zero. If it could be done, the airline industry would have made it happen long ago.

So here it is in plain fact. More oil consumed = more oil produced and transported= more accidents. The only way to reverse the cycle is from the root of the problem.

The President has stood and taken the blame for the spill. Some will interpret this as admission of inadequate oversight. I choose to see it as something more profound. We elected the president as a country, so he is at this time American attitude personified. His acceptance of blame, in my view, is acknowledgement that we as a people are to blame. But still, most people don’t seem to get it. Personal accountability has somehow been eradicated from our national culture.

There’s a lot of talk about America “going socialist” with healthcare reform and generally increased government involvement in our lives. Well, think about it people. We have before us one of the starkest examples of the folly of our own excesses in years, and still we can do nothing but blame someone – anyone else. If we choose not to look within for responsibility, eventually all responsibility will be handed over to someone else. That someone else is ever expanding government. The buck can only stop there. Make government large enough and it gets called socialist. It is our refusal as a people to take responsibility for our own actions and their effects that is bringing about this change, not the policies or will of those we elect. And, by the way, if you think this trend can turn out well in the long run, you really need to have a chat with an exile form the former Soviet Union.

Are you ready to accept some accountability and do something about having to accept less next time? Change your choices. Take convenience and excess out of the number one and two slots in favor of less consumption. If you are visiting this blog, it is because you suspect or already know it is possible. If you read on, you will see my take on how it is possible. I don’t claim not to see blame in my mirror. I only know that the inconvenience of the hard choice is fleeting and the reward long lasting. I sometimes wonder about the wisdom of my path. It carries a high price of alienation at times. But then when you have to ask yourself if there was anything else you could have done to have less of a hand in a great disaster, it feels pretty good not to come up with a long list.

2010-02-09T07:21:00.000-08:00

Were I ever put on trial for one-track-mindedness, I would conjure the ghost of E.B. White as council. He is universally remembered for "Charlotte's Web" and "Stuart Little", but was also a passionate sailor. We never met, but he voiced my feelings on the subject of living aboard better than I could.....

"If a man must be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most. A small sailing craft is not only beautiful, it is seductive and full of strange promise and the hint of trouble. If it happens to be an auxiliary cruising boat, it is without question the most compact and ingenious arrangement for living ever devised by the restless mind of man - a home that is stable without being stationary, shaped less like a box than like a fish, or a bird, or a girl, and in which the homeowner can remove his daily affairs as far from shore as he has the nerve to take them, close hauled or running free - parlor, bedroom, and bath - suspended and alive."

E.B's son Joel combined his artistry with a deep technical understanding of Naval Architecture earned at M.I.T. to create stunning and well behaved boats. His grandson Steve carries on the art and skill at Brookline Boat Yard.

How Much Land Does a Sailor Need?

2009-11-23T11:42:00.000-08:00

Tolstoy’s short story – “How Much Land Does a Man Need?” (http://www.katinkahesselink.net/other/tolstoy.html) concludes with the rather morbid treatise that 6’ is adequate. I think about this conclusion often in my landless floating existence. I realize though, that Tolstoy’s conclusion is accurate in death not life.

The simple truth is we all need land. I can’t say how much, but I know I have an unconventional view point as I’m not much interested in putting my name on any. We need land to grow food, and to walk on. We need it to derive fuel and decompose waste. We need it to build and manufacture. Most folks need it to live and dwell upon. That’s the only point I really can claim exemption from.

Most indigenous peoples viewed their relationship with land very differently from our societal norm. My limited understanding is that theirs was a stewardship role and not an ownership one. I was a fly on the wall for an argument between a local tenant and an American landlord on a Caribbean island once. The part I remember came after the American told the local to “get off his mountain.” The reply, “Mountain be here long after you dead,” will stick with me forever. I’m not passing judgment here, but it does seem to me that we get into an inordinate amount of trouble by elevating land to the status of our ultimate possession and investment. Community doesn’t benefit from real estate profit flip.

So I borrow and rent land. Not a lot of it, but a path to and from the sea, some to plant and harvest, and a bit to store parts and build ideas into objects. Even a bit for an office to work out thoughts like these. This may prove a foolish decision in later life, but freedom from debt has certainly made early and midlife nice.

One of the places I borrow is a field of new growth swamp trees. The ground is soft and the trees grow close and tall with out much in way of roots. I think it was a farmed field in the not too distant past. Every year a few of the spindly trees are blown over and if I get to them before the bugs, they make pretty good firewood for my tiny woodstove. One year I struck upon the idea of using the stump hole from a previously uprooted tree as the end location for the proceeds from Charis’s composting head. Since the ash from the stove is part of the carbon source I mix into the compost, it seemed a pretty good full circle sort of solution. Those who are ready to cry environmental foul need not worry. As I have explained elsewhere, I have provided myself with the means to contain and compost waste in isolation from the ground for a minimum of about 10 to 12 months before returning it to the earth. So, lacking a flower bed or shrub base in need of fertilization, and anticipating the scarcity of dinner guests if I used the stuff in my vegetable garden, I simply filled in the stump hole.

Now I don’t have offspring, and many think this speaks well for the intelligence of women as a gender. And lest any should think I’m single for lack of understanding of the mechanisms of carrying on the race, I know this isn’t how it is done. But when I returned to the woods this fall to claim some downed wood, I have to admit to twinges of paternity toward this little holly tree due to where it is growing…

Solar Jack-Tar-O-Lantern

2009-10-31T11:23:00.000-07:00

Otherwise known as 101 uses for a solar garden light!

Solar Bilge Buddy

2009-08-11T13:32:00.001-07:00

So I have this dinghy dock neighbor. Smart man they tell me. A man of letters, I’m told. Ivy League at that, they say. Yet, as sure as the seasons, his skiff will sink and dunk its shiny new-ish outboard at least once a season. That, “they” don’t have to say. I can generally see it happen. Must get expensive running a boat that way. I know it gets frustrating. I’ve heard the chanty to which the inevitable post-dunk start up is set and it isn’t choir music. As I write, we are getting one of those refreshing summer downpours that is so often the opening curtain on this drama.

There are a few things about living aboard that I would gladly give up. High on the list was going out in the middle of the night to bail the skiff during persistent heavy rains in order to preclude becoming act 2 of the afore mentioned drama. Not that it happens all that often, but once out of a sound sleep and into the cold rain on a work night is enough.

And another thing…I hate asking anyone else to tend my chores. Since I have a tendency to wander for undeclared lengths of time, and as the fleet has expanded to include a pretty little Whitehall pulling boat besides the E-10 gasoline allergic outboard skiff, I wanted a way to take bailing both off everyone’s chore list.

In full conformity with a friend’s assessment that I have the “most complicated simple life he’s ever seen,” I came up with a fix. Presented herein is prototype 2. Prototype 1 works just fine, but isn’t as sleek and svelte. It’s living in the motor skiff. The Whitehall needed a bit more style, even in its' bilge pump.

The fix is this. One small 12 volt bilge pump and standard issue float switch, connected to one 12 volt battery (from one of those kiddie plastic monster trucks at Wal-Mart,) connected in turn to a solar panel and all bundled together with tie wraps in a Tupperware type box. That and an inline fuse holder to protect the sensitive parts from shock, though at this time I cannot say exactly which are the sensitive parts.

I don’t plan to get into wiring instructions. Some legal type would probably eat me alive for it anyway. Suffice it to say that you connect the positives to the positives and the negatives likewise, installing the float switch in between on one side or the other, and set the whole thing in the sun for a while to get the battery charged up. Avoid the rain dance until you are sure it’s full up. If red and black wires get you all confused, write and I’ll build you one. Just don’t expect it to cost less than the parts. Or for that matter, less than one of the several engine repairs it will save you.

Here are a few things I learned in early experiments with the idea.:

Avoid the solar panels intended to be set on a car dashboard and plugged into a cigarette lighter. For one, I don’t know what good those are in a car since every car I ever owned had the lighter socket switch off with the ignition, but that’s outside the scope of this study. The fact is they can’t take getting wet, and the whole premise here is that the thing will eventually get rained on. Here’s what one looks like after a few dunkings……Utterly useless. And for obvious reasons, a downbound spiral that can only end with the whole project submerged and me bailing. An E-bay source delivered the replacement panel today. If it works out I’ll add the link.

Make big holes in the bottom of the plastic box and install both the pump and the float switch to hang down below it so they rest on the dinghy bottom. This way you will get the water down to a couple of scoops of residual instead of a couple of inches.

Come up with a good way to secure the pump hose overboard. It’s a loosing proposition if that hose gets loose and winds up in the bottom of the boat with the pump. No battery will keep up chasing it’s own tail. I have a system with a piece of wood dowel and an oarlock holder, but I suspect almost anyone can beat that idea.

Make sure the assembly stays out from under seats and lifejackets and such enough to charge up the battery. I feel like I shouldn’t have to include that, but I will anyway just so I can say I told you so.

DO NOT try to take this on an airplane. It has far too much in common with an I.E.D. and will not get past security no matter how much 'splainin you do Lucy.

That’s all there is to it. Go forth. Build it and be smug in climbing aboard the one un-swamped dinghy at the dock after the next downpour. Unless you live in Seattle, in which case you may want to consider a wind turbine charged pump……

Solar Book Light

2009-08-11T07:50:00.000-07:00

I once worked for a very great personage in the yacht industry who confided in me that he had really never invented anything. One credited with so many advances in sailing systems and materials modestly reported that each was actually an existing idea he adapted. To whit, I would say that modesty makes great men greater in my esteem.

Anyway, here's a combination of established and readily available ideas I'm presently experimenting with. No greatness. Just a new slant on collecting some sunlight and pulling it out later for entertainment purposes!

Ingredients:
1. One well used loved "LightWedge" book light (www.lightwedge.com) which after many years succumbed to corrosion. If you have not tried one of these, here's the concept: light from 2 small LED bulbs is refracted through an acrylic wedge and distributed over a book page with less loss to less desired directions than with typical booklights. Perfect for those who enjoy reading about things that happened outside, and know that authentic surroundings enhance the experience as ambiance does a good dinner.

2. Two solar garden lights. You know the type. Available at any hardware store for a few $$. They charge a nicad battery during the day and switch on at night with a little photo-cell. I've already made much use of them for other decorative and practical purposes.

3. A few odd tie wraps and miscellaneous bits of string and such.

Tools:
1. One cordless drill, preferably charged by solar and wind power!

2. Old fashioned duct tape and bailing wire, Rube Goldberg type horse sense.

Directions:
Strip away the defunct elements of the lightwedge until the basic acrylic lens itself alone remains. Drill the edge holes from the original LED bulbs large enough to accept those on the garden light. Remove the lens and mounting post from the garden light until all that remains is the top part- in which are housed the solar cell, battery, switch and LED bulb. Drill more holes in the edge of the acrylic wedge such that tie wraps can be used to secure the garden light tops to it. This is where the horse sense comes in. The only wrong way to complete this attachment is one that blocks sunlight from the solar cell. Attach a light fishing line such that the whole works can be hung in the sun with least shadows cast on the solar cells.... or just stand it up outside.

Mine's outside getting powered up as I write. Try it and let me know how yours works!

Coming soon to a blog near you....The solar bilge pump - for the optimist who knows it is more often sunny than rainy, in most places anyway.

The Zen of Alternate Energy

2009-06-23T11:40:00.000-07:00

Of all the wonders presented by our changing world in the last century, none astounds me more than the increase in the amount of energy in various forms that each of us has available for our use and pleasure. Consider that before petroleum products, most of our heat, light, and transportation was derived from plants and animals, dead or alive. I’m sure there are too many of us in the world today to ever revert to those days, but there may be a place for some of the old ways of thinking about energy use. Few lifestyles are better suited to provide a demonstration of the polar opposite to conspicuous energy consumption than living aboard. I know that there are many options for controllable on board power production, but this is a discussion of how to work with the two most commonly harnessed variable resources – wind and solar energy.

I always advocate renewable energy devices with the cautious caveat that alternate energy requires alternate expectations. When connected to the grid, using energy in greater quantities rather than lesser simply means a larger energy bill at the end of the month. This is not in itself a bad thing as long as a balance is maintained. However it is a mindset that must be left behind if you are going to unplug for a while. What I refer to here is not simply a matter of switching off unused lights or lowering the thermostat at night. It is an overall comprehension that once the shore power chord is cast off, every use of energy is subtracted from that which you create and store. With time, the mental accounting becomes subconscious – like knowing when to turn back on a long walk so you can make it home. I am referring here to energy use as related to lifestyle and not necessarily that connected with navigation and sailing. That is a separate and different set of concerns. I won’t get into the plethora of gadgets designed to aid our perception of electrical energy in the manner of fuel in a tank. The matter at hand is the mental process of understanding that flow out cannot for long exceed flow in. For reasons obvious in the American economy, I will avoid any cross reference involving finance.

The most significant step preparatory toward life unplugged is to catalog your energy outflows. This is a highly individual process, so don’t rely too heavily on someone else’s list. You should break your power uses into those which are discretionary, such as entertainment, and those which are relatively constant such as refrigeration and pumps. This will help you to move closer to an understanding of the difference between need and want in your power demand, although the longer you are out here, the more items you will shift from one list to the other. Since you need a starting point, it is only important to understand that larger your list of constant consumers is, the larger you investment in storage batteries and generating equipment will be to feed them.

I will start with one of the most thirsty and insatiable of the energy eaters; the chilly bin. For some, refrigeration is considered an unnecessary luxury and this discussion can be dispensed with. I find this attitude most prevalent in those from cultures which also promote warm beer drinking. Once upon a time, refrigeration was achieved by heating a liquid ammonia compound. Heat source refrigerators still exist, though they are out of favor afloat due to fire risk and a tendency to become vapor locked if not kept reasonably level. These days, we use mechanical compressors to create the desired effect. But compressors must be rotated and that requires a motor of some sort. Often, the duty of cold box sentry falls upon the main engine and so is outside of the realm of renewable resources. This road carries the unpardonable sentence of being aboard for the required number of hours per day to run the engine. For the rest, a balance must be achieved of amp hours consumed in proportion to size of the cold box. Isotherm has created a DC electric refrigeration system based on the theory that it is more efficient to store ‘cold’ in a holding plate when more electrical energy is available than it is to store electricity in a battery. Their voltage sensing units are widely hailed as a boon to small battery bank cold beer lovers worldwide. The poor-man parallel solution on Charis involves keeping a supply of ice in the box and using the old Adler Barbour refrigeration unit to slow its melt when adequate energy is available. Local “ice-capades” are a cultural exchange opportunity and there are always rocks to clink in your sundowner.

Imagine an existence where your urge to watch TV becomes naturally in tune with the strength of the wind or intensity of the sun in recent hours. It may sound like cruel torture if you are a serial TV addict. On the other hand, if you can see it as the opportunity to work on the “must read” book list, you are getting the point. As an added perk, decreased exposure will alloy you to remain coolly aloof while land dwellers complain about, laugh at, and generally are intellectually twisted by bad commercials. Audio entertainment can be similarly classified, except that it is commonly less power thirsty. In both cases I have noted the critical transition to be that I no longer allow myself to consider them background noise. On board conversation quality has improved as a side benefit.

Some say I have a lighting fixture fetish after spending time on my floating home. There are fluorescent lights, incandescent lights, small directable reading lights, and oil lamps. I learned long ago that one light in the right place is worth 3 in the wrong locations and my power use for interior lighting dropped accordingly. I regard my gimbaled oil lamps as a more seaworthy cousin to candles for mood lighting, as well as good general background light exempt from the electron flow concern. If eyestrain is a worry, consider an LED book light to augment your other sources.

While in most instances I have been able to use latitude and trade wind for my air conditioning needs, small electric fans have produced notable comfort at times. My favorites are small swivel mounted fans made by Hella. Their electrical consumption is almost unnoticeable and they move plenty of air with little noise. As with lighting, placement is significant and power use will generally be inversely proportional to the number installed.

Life conspires to keep me from always choosing my geographic home, so I sometimes list heating on my necessity list. It was a long search to find a solution which fit my energy creation and storage capacity, but a huge lifestyle improvement when I did. (See Living Aboard January/February 2006.) I am fortunate in that the colder cruising months for me bring stronger winds, generally allowing the wind generator to compensate for the seasonal increase in electrical use. Now and then though, a movie is postponed in favor of a book and push button warm air.

For most, pressure water, sump, and bilge pumps are on the constant and necessary list. I do know some very well adapted liveaboards, however, who use gravity and muscle to power these needs. I will only say that I envy them every time I have to service one of my electric pumps. It can be difficult to estimate the thirst of these devices, and only experience is likely to teach you how much you will need to put back into your energy ‘tank’ to break even. Since you are assumedly also working on a similar thought process conversion relating to water use, this item tends toward its own solution. Less water use means less pump run time, and therefore less energy needs to be created to keep up.

Computers are our modern day Man-Friday. It’s not easy to imagine life without them anymore. I’m sure there is a specific state of Nirvana reserved for those who find a way send “Windows” out the porthole, but sadly, most of us will never reach it. In the mean time, only you can decide where your electronic brain weighs in on the necessity scale. In the tropics, I have reached an easy compromise. It’s too hot at midday for maximum outdoor enjoyment, and my solar panels are generally making more electricity than my batteries will accept. Therefore I have reversed the whole siesta concept and find I now do my best work from noon to 1 pm while goofing off most of the rest of the day. It’s a compromise not entirely out of line with the reasons why I went cruising in the first place.

There will always be the odd incidental small power uses such as the propane gas solenoid and maybe a kitchen appliance or three. The reality is that these will either be fairly low in their demands for juice, or highly intermittent in their application. The compromises required to keep them fueled will be small if you are already making some of the bigger choices discussed. Again, the significance of the issue is that you are aware of both the result of pushing the on button and the cost in terms of energy consumed.

There is a slow but noticeable shift in perspective beginning to occur even among conspicuous consumers. Gradually we are waking up to the reality that we must be more accountable for our personal energy appetites. The change has to take place slowly to keep our economy rolling along in the immediate, but it must certainly occur to keep it alive in the long term. As liveaboards we are afforded the opportunity to lead in the thought conversion that will allow this to occur, while improving our own lifestyle. It isn’t inexpensive to outfit your floating home with wind and solar power collectors, but it is a long term investment partially offset by absent monthly energy bills and otherwise justifiable with lifestyle improvement. The key to fully appreciating your return on the investment is to learn in advance how to feel comfortable within the varying range of energy your system will deliver.

The author’s Alberg 35, Charis, employs two Siemen’s M55 solar panels (flawless) and a SouthWest Windpower wind turbine (loud but productive) to channel renewable energy to a battery bank comprised of 3 group 31 batteries. The installation of numerous electric lifestyle gadgets is tolerated by the system since most of them are on the discretionary use side of the list.

The Most Useful Gift….

2009-06-21T09:18:00.001-07:00

…..of living aboard is perspective. It is true that one cannot usually see the forest for the trees. Panorama is polar opposite to macro.

I enjoyed many things about a recent sustainable living festival. And I saw at the same time how very far we have to go. Coming to alternate energy use from the position of having cut land ties has caused me to see implementation of renewable sources from a very different perspective from land users.

I am entirely grateful to my friend Carol Steinfeld, (http://www.carol-steinfeld.com/) environmental author and purveyor of real working solutions, for persuading me to get out to this event. The bike ride there was great fun and, so was the lift home as it was a long day. I’m also grateful to the organizers as it was an inspiring venue with great entertainment. Attendance, I’m told was less than hoped. Here are some thoughts from the experience and maybe some ideas for how to make it more interesting.

It seems that land application of renewable energy still lacks an important element of considering the balance of use and production. It is convenient that grid connection allows us to overlook discrepancies between what we consume and what we make, but that makes it paradoxical. The incentive to achieve balance is diminished if the only consequence to excess consumption is a higher monthly bill. I’m speaking in general terms of the difference between on and off “grid.” The festival offered an ideal setting for a balanced off grid demonstration, but relied on portable generators for power needs and left massive solar arrays displayed for sales purposes connected to nothing. Authenticity and purpose would have been enhanced were this not the case.

A notable lack of technical expertise has also invaded the sales arena of renewable energy materials. I know that not everyone is interested in numbers, but it seems something other than vague concepts of benefit and easily manipulated statistics should be at hand when an innovative idea is offered up. I’m not speaking of knowledge of product on a molecular level, but I would expect more than to have a tape measure produced in response to a query about solar array size… or a voltage meter in response to the clarification that wattage was my interest. I suppose that buying a solar array to replace energy formerly schlepped aboard or to provide comforts focuses one’s interest on what the product can achieve. I’m reminded of a shop front in Brooklyn which installed solar panels on their sun awning. The two that are installed directly under a fire escape equal my entire array, yet will never produce a Watt. Their only achievement is to advertise the good intentions of the shop owner. Yet their cost in human and fossil energy to come into existence was the same as those which would give back for 20 years and more. To me they represent, like the ill informed purveyor, how many false starts a good idea must survive before it provides the service for which it was designed.

It was inspiring to meet and talk to lots of folks who want to learn how to do something, regardless of what it is, to lessen impact. But it was equally disconcerting to find still a large number who would reject solutions that required them to do something. Yes, a composting toilet requires more direct responsibility than the flip of a lever. There is a price to be paid in personal energy if society is going to be relieved of expenditure of other forms of energy. The lesson was that it’s still a long road to the realization that we will need to ratchet down expectations of convenience to truly make a difference. Again, I feel fortunate to have made choices many years ago that make convenience a gift and not a birthright to me. As the great sailor and mountaineer Bill Tillman said, “One cannot miss what one has not become accustomed to.”

There was a miracle machine truck that supposedly ran on garbage on display. I hope I’m mistaken, but the vague and general process explanation, coupled with the maze of PVC pipes masking taped together and spray painted flat black, screamed of snake-oil to me. I have been called a harsh critic, but the utterance of even one phrase familiar from my thermal dynamics classes would have granted the benefit of doubt. Instead I could not get the image of the crystal-ball wielding carpetbagger from the “Wizard of Oz” out of my mind.

I liked the fuel cell hotrod. Here was a working application of the early phase of a promising concept in a package to grab the attention of a boy of any age. Its huge bank of batteries, though, were a reminder that we still really don’t have a clue how to store energy unless it is in the form of fossil fuel. As well, our appetites for energy are poorly suited to the slow and steady production of renewable sources after a century of taking for granted the instantaneous and large energy release of petroleum sources.

There were many, many other ideas and concepts present. There were also many people present who genuinely wanted to find inspiration to move in the right direction, and I’m certain, some who did find it. For me the question arriving and leaving was the same. How can one life’s experiment with finding balance and a form of sustainability, albeit in a unique choice of setting (living afloat) be carried ashore to help land based folk in their quest for similar solutions? I guess the answer is just to get out there and connect and hope to eventually find the sort of collaboration that opens doors.

Lest those living in (fiber) glass houses be accused of throwing stones, I will admit to copping out, staying late for the best of the entertainment venue, and bumming a lift home in a fossil burner!

Stay or Go?

2009-06-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

On the dock late one summer I was confronted with a question that had become a standard greeting after a couple of winter cruises to warmer places. “Going south this year?” I was feeling a bit sarcastic, and more than a bit tired of the question, so my response was “No, I’m taking this year off.” Subsequently I noticed that the few remaining acquaintances who believed there was more to my lifestyle than madness began drifting away.

I’ve lived aboard for sixteen years now and feel quite fortunate to have escaped New England winters for four of them. I suppose the common three-season query of “Isn’t it cold in the winter?” would indicate that many land dwellers think I should instead begrudge the twelve northern winters. It’s taken a while, but I feel like I’m finally reaching the point where I can see the silver lining and the cloud both in staying and in voyaging. As crazy as it sounds, I actually enjoy looking ahead toward a season “off.” I didn’t decide to live aboard simply as a prelude to the ‘event’ of a tropical cruise. It’s a lifestyle I arrived at eyes open (and then I realized I needed glasses.)

Boldfaced self justification is probably the verdict many are passing at this point, but maybe I can explain myself. I won’t deny the challenges that the winter months present on board, headed I suppose by fresh water acquisition. But then these challenges are as individual as the people who pursue this lifestyle. It took a last minute cancelled cruise for me to sit down and quantify the pros and cons, so to the detractors I at least award recognition of the inception of these thoughts. In a particularly active early winter storm season a few years ago, I was faced with challenging arguably suicidal weather or tying to the dock. The list helped me quantify the collateral damage in terms of lost preparation costs. I didn’t start out to rethink the philosophies surrounding my choice to live afloat, but that’s exactly what happened.

At best, the offshore passages to the Caribbean from New England and back occupy one to two months on either end of the cruise. Ridiculous! Even a thirty five foot sailboat is good for 100 to 120 miles per day. Yes, but the crew has learned over time that just the right weather window is well worth the wait. Time is a principle safety factor in small boat ocean voyaging. And then there’s an island nearly on the rhumbline that makes visitors feel more welcome than any other I know. It’s always a challenge for me to leave Bermuda without an immigrations extension. So all told, there’s a healthy chunk of a given year’s cruise dedicated to the priority of getting to the other season. Since exposure to Caribbean strength hurricanes is as unthinkable as forfeiting a New England cruising summer, there’s no mid solution for me while I own one boat.

The question is, what one would be doing otherwise during those months? Before reliable central heat and breathable foul weather gear, probably not much. Before boomtown real estate prices and shifting waterfront property control banned summer access to many peaceful spots, why would one challenge the volatile weather of the cusp seasons? But things have changed in sixteen years and now the nicest sailing of all seems to work around the peak crowds. This sort of sailing is a big plus on the ‘stay’ list.

Family is a double edged sword in all of this decision making. It’s priceless to share dolphins and sea turtles with nephews a thousand miles away while they are swimming around your home. Realizing you have to carry the experience through to completion by finding and bringing home both in stuffed animal form is the downside. Complete abandon of consumerism is far more elusive than one thinks. Being present at the ever dwindling number of Holidays when Santa Claus is real and playing with the toys is as much fun as giving them are the corresponding plus in the cold winter column.

The issue of anxiety inflicted upon loved ones seems almost a wash. On the one hand there’s intense worry from land folk about the voyage on each end. Rightfully so I suppose – we all fear most what we understand least. Over time this has improved with my ability to explain my decisions more fully in terms of weather and other factors. Communication has allowed me to be in almost daily contact, though I sometimes think those ashore never quite believe it’s really me sending the e-mails. But then there’s the long period where I’m assumed to be lounging at a Club Med and therefore obviously quite safe in between. How could there be another side to such intense periods of anxiety you ask? It’s related to the assumption that anyone who would winter on a boat in a place where the ocean freezes solid must be a lunatic. This sort of realization about a loved one has to be hard to take. I’ve devoted unusual energy to this lifestyle, even to the point of earning a relatively rare degree in naval architecture and marine engineering before trying it. Yet somehow the assurance that “it’s OK, I’m a professional,” offers no relief. After all, what blue blooded American boy didn’t try to make his bike fly after Fonzi jumped his motorcycle over the barrels on “Happy Days,” in spite of the “don’t try this at home warning?”

Making friends underway is not much different than dockside for the winter. Mostly what changes is the topic of conversation. Away, talk centers inexplicably often around what commodity is available and where. In a dockside New England winter community it invariably involves heating schemes and gadgets. Either way, there is a tendency to form the elastic bonds that bring you back in contact repeatedly with the same few people.

I suppose I’d be run out on rails if I didn’t mention cost. Frankly it’s so individual as to make my observations seem almost pointless. I’ve seen many happy cruisers with little more than an iron will and a sound boat. I’ve even one or two without the latter. What you “need” is no more absolute afloat than ashore. What it takes to complete your personal level of preparation is, thankfully, one of a few remaining personal freedoms. So the purists will scoff and the belt- and-suspenders crowd will dismiss me as foolhardy, but my preparations are the best I can manage and consequently personally costly. There is a life raft repack which can be painful every few years. There are offshore flares, EPIRB batteries and ditch bag bits to assemble and renew. The satellite phone must be activated for at least a year. Provisioning is never trivial if you do it as well as know how to. Weather guidance is worth the cost to me and has been both educational and probably lifesaving over the years. Insurance for extended travel is difficult to obtain and expensive. Lest we should forget, for those planning to stop along the way, there are expenses associated with entertaining ourselves. At least we’ve brought along our own efficiency motel.

Clearly the ‘stay’ column is less costly. On the short list are items like winter dockage (I rarely use marinas when cruising,) auto insurance, heating energy, and a gym membership. This last is my alternative to installing an anchor windlass in the spring, aside from its other benefits. Time and world events seem to conspire to make the subtotal of the short list rise to meet that of the longer ‘go’ list. I had a hard time answering someone recently who asked me to compare my winter heating costs to my overall cruising budget.

Anyone who has been out and back will agree that there is a genuine hard work aspect to cruising, particularly in preparation. Even underway there will be opportunities to wonder if farming might not have been a wiser choice. The real reward of many years of living aboard has not been the few of voyaging. It has been all of the experiences along the way. I love to be warm and swim in clear tropical water. But I love to be free to live as I choose even more. The time spent wherever you are is special if you are in it for the lifestyle and not for some one time travel experience or perceived escape. The perspective that you are seeing the world but sleeping in your own bed when you do cruise won’t happen if you don’t make your boat your home. Wherever it is......

Finding the ‘Right’ Boat

2009-03-02T08:50:00.000-08:00

Your mission, should you choose to accept it...
In the business of molding thoughts into the reality known as a boat, the foundation of the process is what is called a ‘mission statement.’ Detaching this element from a rather martial sounding name, the idea of use definition should also be central to the selection of a boat, new or used. We arrange our daily lives from shopping to vacations, meetings to job interviews, yet frequently buy boats with far less preparation. Organization of thought and concise definition of purpose is the key to reaching the goal the first time. As expensive as boats have a reputation to be, none costs more than the wrong one for the intended objective.

One size doesn’t fit all.
Ours is a society of ‘one size fits all’ equipment. We want our SUV’s to corner like sport cars and our sport cars to climb mountains like goats. Trawlers, once synonymous with heavy displacement, low power and reasonable fuel consumption are now expected to plane. Every cruising sailboat is a ‘performance cruiser,’ while few racing sailboats are without amenities previously unimagined. In part, technology may be thanked for this new order. The balance results from the expectations of a culture that wants and feels entitled to ‘get it all.’ Here it must be recognized that some features will conflict directly. Design and construction trade offs are fairly permanent. Prioritization will help to match expectations and candidate boat properties.

Choose your theme.
Since a cruising or live aboard boat is a microcosm, compromise in the selection process will remain near at hand. The more clearly the use of the boat is defined, the less regrettable those compromises will prove. Start by expressing the true focus of the dream. Spell it out clearly and consider having it and framed and hung in a conspicuous location. How often the central theme is revisited will be in proportion to how close you come to achieving it.

Where, when and how?
By definition, your boat is intended to take you places. Outline what those places might be and how you will reach them. A world cruise and a coastal sojourn are very different goals and should lead you toward different candidate vessels. While it is more dangerous to overestimate the strengths of an inshore cruiser, it is far more common to overstate the application of the boat you are seeking. If you do not know from experience that ocean wandering is to the tastes of the crew, then pursuing this capability can make for a very expensive and inefficient coastal cruiser. Volunteer as crew to temper your ambitions with insight. This phase begins the process of narrowing the field from which you will eventually choose. The boats you cross off the list are as important as the ones you leave on.

Sleek or Voluptuous?
Fashion changes, but the laws of physics do not. I like to say that some boats are meant to go fast and some are meant to go far. Nowadays the lines of distinction are blurred. Research the performance properties of your candidate boats by talking about and sailing on them. If voyaging is your intent, remember that your concept of speed will change from knots to miles per day. Momentary speed is secondary to the range of conditions under which reasonable speed can be maintained. Many of the design principles that enhance performance also increase acceleration responses and stress concentrations on the structure. Not least of which will be your own stress when the bottom rises to find the keel. ‘Sea kindly’ is an antiquated description of a boat of gentle response. Older, ‘slower’ boats whose designs incorporating large radii in place of sharp angles and flat surfaces are better suited to harmless distribution of unexpected loads. Speaking of loads, nothing adds weight to your boat like moving aboard. Performance types suffer most because the added weight is likely a larger proportional increase, and because light displacement is critical to their speed in the first place. If performance is your inclination, pay special attention to weight in your other considerations.

Power to Choose:
Whether power or auxiliary sail, limited options exist for alteration of engine power and fuel capacity. Consider where you plan to go and research tidal current strength and fuel availability. Brokerage listings often have most or all of the information you would need to evaluate a boat against these criteria. A seemingly undersized engine will usually compensate with lower fuel consumption and therefore extended range versus capacity. Conversely, reserve engine power is a strong comfort when you decide you’re not having fun anymore. Under sail, the question of power is really a question of rig size, type and handling systems. Golden-agers are handling large sails later in life than ever thanks to all manner of reefing and furling systems. Provided they can spare the gold to buy and maintain them, that is. Otherwise, physical limitation must be a consideration in your sail plan decision.

How much?
Too much boat ends the dream more often than too little a boat harms the crew. Because individual expenses related to boat ownership are often indexed by length, newcomers may be deceived into concluding a linear proportionality. Nothing could be more dangerously incorrect. The relationship between length and cost is more likely exponential. Outfit quantity, size and complexity comprise the main difference. It is simple truth that more of the long term cruisers and liveaboard folks I’ve encountered have phrased this evaluation not as “How much boat can I afford?” but rather as “How small a boat can I accomplish my purpose in?” Finance and crew needs generally top the concern list of disillusioned new cruisers. An initial theme of simplicity trending gradually toward intricacy is less shocking to the system than immersion in vast complexity without austere beginnings. Within the limits of prudent seamanship, consider that the cost of the porthole doesn’t alter the view it frames. As one cruiser taught me, “Big boat, big problems. Little boat, little problems.”

Arrangement priorities:
Being often integral to structure, furnishing and arrangement are two very expensive features of a boat to change. I occasionally lament having only one sleeping cabin on my Alberg 35. Guest space would be a great convenience but I have managed without it. More than most features, I can see how this choice impacted my boat size choice and therefore my cruising options over the past sixteen years. Overall I know the decision I made was best. Galley size and orientation will be important considerations to those with culinary inclination. Head and bathing arrangements deserve advanced consideration. Even details such as a permanent or fold away salon table merit thought. Wardrobe stowage space may warrant a ballot line. The good news is that expectations conform to a compromise arrangement better than most other trade off decisions. Provided, that is, the compromise was not an afterthought.

Turn key or ‘handyman special?
The first simple qualifier in this decision is whether or not you are of the ‘handyman’ sort. Self evaluation in this area is discouraged. Ask a trusted friend if they would go to sea in a boat you have altered. If they would not, you shouldn’t either. It can be difficult, especially for men, to acknowledge their potential limitations in this arena, but it is important for both safety and budget to do so. Here again the volunteer apprentice principle will yield the best results. Few boat owners will refuse help with a project and there’s no better way to figure out either how to do your own work, or that you don’t want to. While this will be seen as a decision to impact your initial investment, it is really much more. In this decision you set the stage for your relationship with your boat throughout your ownership. Like the journey, doing your own repair work will only grow easier once you have begun. The frequently overlooked return on the investment of learning to do your own work is the confidence that you will be better prepared when doing so is your only option. Hubris aside, not everyone has the time or inclination to take on a project boat. What really matters is that this decision is made deliberately and with understanding of the real cost of each choice.

Choose your candy.
In a world of gadget junkies, the thought of leaving behind lifestyle toys can be frightening. The good news is that unlike our cars, our electronic trappings have become more compact and power efficient in the last 15 years. Inverters to run household appliances from battery banks have decreased in cost. If your boat target range is such that large generators are not likely, and your use is going to take you away from shore power connections, consider leaving heating element appliances behind. Life without a microwave oven was difficult to imagine when I first moved aboard, but as I shifted into cruising mode, I found the counter space more valuable than the convenience. Computers, nerve centers for information, communication, and entertainment in our world, now travel exceptionally well. Several good books on the subject of marine electrics are available to help you relate your list of intended toys to battery bank size and charging needs.

Expert witness:
Most boat buyers will rely heavily on their surveyor to investigate the condition of a candidate boat. The information you get from the survey generally will be limited to the condition of the boat and not its suitability for a purpose. Remember that surveyors tend to have specialties like other professionals. Ask around and find one with experience in the type of vessel you are considering.

But what about.....?
If by now you are thinking about the countless considerations I have not mentioned here, you get the idea. Just as there are no two identical ‘mission statements,’ there is no standard list of considerations. The process of thinking about your priorities in an organized manner and recording your decisions for later reference is the common thread. Call it ‘doing your homework’ if you like. Making the list is more important that what specifically it starts out including. If you are moving in the right direction, the list will be a living, growing entity anyway.

Help!!!
If this all seems just a bit overwhelming, you don’t have to face it alone. Most people wouldn’t consider filing taxes or making investments without some advice from a professional. As in those cases, free advice is often worth what it cost. Objectivity gives up its place to ego at the yacht club bar. The numbers involved in choosing a boat are potentially large, so consider the possible wisdom of investing in assistance from an independent naval architect or yacht designer. Understanding of the initial design process could prove helpful in the creation of your specific list and evaluating compromises. Directing your choices toward candidate boat types is no different from the early stages of a new design.

‘Move confidently in the Direction of Your Dream....’
‘And find success unimagined in common hours,’ to paraphrase Thoreau. But since we’re discussing boats, not Walden Pond, you will find a few negatives as well. Since adapting to changing surroundings instead of wearing away at the ‘old grind’ is inherent to this lifestyle, taking the glitches in stride will be good practice. Diligence in advance of your decision will reduce the number and significance of regrets. Reference to your own process will often remind you of the reasons for your choices. All that then remains is to enjoy the result.

Mr. Peebuddy

2009-03-02T08:44:00.000-08:00

Author's note: This article was written in 2005, prior to installation of a separation composting marine sanitation device. Mr. Peebuddy continues to live aboard in harmony with the Airhead expanding capacity and posture options....

Evolution:

Legend has it that most drowned males are found with their fly down. Ulyses call of the Sirens may have in fact been more truthfully related as the call of nature. True or not, the sensible precaution seems to be to bring the activity of peeing over the side safely inboard until completion of the more ‘hands on’ portion of the performance. (Of course it goes without saying that this is in reference to traversing waters where it is legal to relieve one’s self directly into the ocean.)

Enter the ancestor of Mr. Peebuddy. Nothing more complex than a bleach bottle cut into the classic shape of a dinghy bailer then spliced to a length of line and attached to the boat. After the curtain falls on the final performance, the whole works gets the heave ho and the plastic parts are retrieved in compliance with the MARPOL treaty. Rinsed and ready to go next time you are.

For at least 30 years boats with accommodations have been required to have approved marine sanitation devices (MSD’s) installed. This has typically been a case of law without means of compliance as until recently there’s been no place to empty them. Federal grants have helped solve this issue in some places with grants for pump out boats. The resulting convenience has helped take the MSD from ‘compliance only’ status to that of a real functioning ship’s system. It is, however a fairly maintenance intensive system.

Head Troubles:

It’s no news to the ‘hands on’ sailor that problems with the MSD are some of the least welcome on board. They rate just astern of fire and marital problems for expense and potential impact on longevity of the lifestyle. The problems a typical marine head and holding tank are subject to are as numerous as the people who are interested in fixing them are few.

Odor from leaky connections, vents and the general combination of waste and salt flush water is the most common complaint since holding tanks began to ‘hold.’ A well installed system, frequent pump out and flushing will help but never fully resolve this. Leaving fresh instead of salt water in the bowl over periods of disuse helps a lot too.

In the long term, the build up of a sort of cement like plaque inside the walls of hoses, valves and fittings is the biggest maintenance problem. The already small passages shrink in inner diameter and flow suffers accordingly. ‘Y’ valves stop rotating. Check valves become obstructed and allow flow in the wrong direction. The only solution is to remove the system entirely and break up the deposits in each component before reassembly. Partial disassembly will only leave pieces lurking just around the corner to stop the works when you least expect it. This is roughly equivalent in labor to installing an entire new system. The interval of this service depends on many factors. In full time cruising it can be as little as every 2 years.

Therapy:

One solution becoming more common is the composting head. The units practical for marine installation are of the diverting, or liquid / solid separating type. This allows the process of composting to take place without the need for evaporation and its energy demand. A small air fan is all that is required and this is well within most available energy budgets on board. The additional benefits of simplicity and elimination of large through hull fittings enhance this option. But somewhat large size, along with required physical modification to the head space have delayed my pursuit of this solution until at least my next drydock.

Meanwhile I decided to dip my toes in the waters of this new idea by doing some of my own waste separation. It’s not always polite or allowable to apply the outdoor expedient, so I decided to create an indoor companion product. Enter Mr. Peebuddy.

The standard bleach bottle dinghy bailer became the ‘receiver.’ The criteria for selection here is a matter of balancing space available against your aim. A brass cup hook at the right height and bungee chord loop around the base of the bleach bottle holds the assembly up. Down in the neck of the bottle I installed a plastic round flap with perforations to guard against gurgle splash back as the vent and drain are one. The tank at the other end is a clear spring water bottle. The principle qualifier here is how well the cap threads on and seals to prevent transport mishaps. In between is the appropriate length of PVC hose to suit your particular height requirements, with a plastic shut off valve installed just below the urinal bleach bottle. The specifics of the connections are best described as a combination of materials at hand. I found 1/2” hose barb by ½” pipe thread adapters worked well when inserted through the bottle caps and backed with ½” female pipe threaded fittings. Bushings work well here, but the only way to “do it yourself” is to walk around the plumbing section with your caps and or bottles and see what will fit. In the bottom of the bleach bottle urinal I decided to fill the space around the fitting and cap with epoxy to eliminate a collection pocket. My shut off valve is a plastic stop cock from US Plastics, but any type will serve. The idea is simply to contain the odor within the tank bottle and hoses between uses. A second spring water jug and cap is the reserve tank so one is always in place while the other is in transport. An old canvas bag disguises the transport tank for the socially conscious who prefer to do less explaining on the way ashore. Total cost is around $2 if you get a cheap valve and recycle the rest from other uses.

It will be obvious to all by now that this was a solution conceived in a male microcosm. But before dismissing it as only such, I would suggest that the flexible hose connection and some reconsideration to the shape of the bleach bottle might possibly lend toward a Mrs. Peebuddy, or at least some gender ambiguity in the installation. If you’ve got the room, a plastic hose barb “Y”, another bleach bottle and a bit more hose could even result in a “his and hers” installation.

Benefits:

The most noticeable advantage to the system has been vastly extended time range for the existing holding tank. Without flushing urine and seawater several times a day, it provides capacity for weeks in stead of days. In places where pump out is not available, this means longer stays between visits to pump stations or discharge legal waters.

I expected a reduction in deposit build up through lower use of the main MSD, but I did not expect it to have ceased almost entirely. It seems that the compounds most related to this problem are those in liquid waste. Time will tell, but one year later the system connected with the installed marine head are showing no signs of build up.

I suppose the most important benefit, though, has been the reshaping of an old and deeply ingrained mindset. It’s not easy to get away from the concept of making the undesirable disappear with minimum effort. The cigarette butt out the car window, plastic instead of paper, and the general removal of the evils of a convenience based society to a place “not in my back yard” can’t be reconciled on the water. It’s all my back yard there. Getting used to a solution that does not depend on municipalities and specific location has provided a satisfaction level far more compatible with the limitless nature of sailing in general.

But Isn’t It Cold in the Winter?

2009-01-30T13:35:00.000-08:00

Living on a boat was a natural choice for me. I like to say that if I designed in houses I’d probably live in one. Since I design boats, I suppose I’d feel a bit disconnected living ashore. I know the problems I face daily on my Alberg 35 are not identical to those my clients might encounter on larger commercial boats, but there are important analogies. Climate control is one challenge I have had to resolve both at home and ‘for hire.’

The most common inquiry I get during the colder months from land dwellers is, “But isn’t it cold in the winter?” My answers vary but “depends on where I set the thermostat,” is my favorite. It’s not quite that simple, but then it’s not too much harder. Since the variables of heat requirement are numerous, I’ll confine my discussion here to some general means of bringing heat on board. In sixteen years I’ve run a winding course from simple and tedious to relatively complex and convenient ways of keeping warm when the mercury drops.

Charis’ very first ‘boat warming’ gift was an aged but well made solid fuel stove. It was a Dickenson Newport, probably at least ten years old then. I learned that while any heater can warm the toes, something in the flicker and glow of a wood fire warms the heart too. I was never disillusioned in the thought that this would be my only heat source through a New England winter, but I soon realized I could never be really comfortable wintering aboard without it. For early and late season cruising it was at least adequate, subject to the foibles of getting a proper draft through a range of wind conditions. Installing a woodstove low is always best since draft strength is proportional to stack height. At the same time, internal stack pipe will radiate heat into the cabin. But how low is always a function of the arrangement the stove is joining and therefore always a compromise. I add a small section of stack pipe above deck in the winter, but draft continues to be a problem with certain wind directions.

In the Tobago Cays several years ago I found a new application for the woodstove. Trash disposal is a problem there. To extend our visit I burned much of our refuse. It was this use that ultimately brought about the death of the old woodstove. The firebox sides had grown thin from years of use and finally burned through with a particularly hot batch or trash. I ordered an identical (or so I thought) replacement when I returned to New England. As it turns out, the replacement had little in common with the original. Most distressing were the thin metal gauge, large gaps between parts and razor sharp sheet metal edges. With some modification and more moderate use expectations a truce has been reached, but one day I will apply the lessons learned toward a custom stove.

I bought Charis with the knowledge that her shore power system needed to be replaced. Working in the industry gave me access to the knowledge and materials to do this properly. Somehow I made it through that first two cold winters with one 30 amp shore power service providing electric heat, hot water, and all other house services. There was much juggling of appliances though, and I knew I needed something better for the long haul. In the boat I chose ceramic element heaters for their compact size and safety features. These are inexpensive enough to discard at the first indication of trouble and still form the backbone of my dockside heating system.

During these first winters I learned all I could from dock neighbors about their heating systems. Some used forced hot air diesel units such as Espar and Webasto Heaters originally designed for busses. Hydronics units from the same manufacturers offered an enticing host of side options such as engine preheating, water heating, and even simple bilge and locker heating. But one thing became clear to me in this research. These units were expensive, power thirsty, and relatively complex. Considerable space for equipment and ducting was required. All had a reputation for expensive low voltage failure. Ignition was typically achieved with glow plugs which try to compensate for low voltage with higher amperage, potentially overloading wiring harnesses. With relatively low battery capacity, these would be strictly dockside solutions for Charis.

My compromise solution therefore became more of the same. A second 30 Amp shore power service was installed with one thermostatically controlled outlet each for the forward and main cabins. Ceramic heaters are switched on and off by these outlets according to their settings. The resulting ‘two zone’ effect is a side benefit. In severe cold, there is adequate capacity in the main shore power system to allow a third heater to be run full time. Sixty Amps of shore current has proven adequate to maintain comfortable cabin temperature. It helps that the Alberg 35 has a relatively low volume cabin and I’ve added internal insulation where possible. There was an added advantage of being able to leave the only bulky parts of the system (the ceramic heaters) behind when I sailed south.

Over the years a noticeable shift in attitudes about off season dockage has taken place in my home waters. Where once was the concept that a low price for off season dockage was better than open slips, it is now common to maintain high off rates while slips go unoccupied. It started with a shorter length for ‘off season.’ I coped with this by remaining longer at a member owned club which was my summer base. Then they caught the disease and quadrupled their off season rate one year. To remain in my home waters and live aboard year round, I had to find ways to remain off the dock for more of the calendar year. With appropriate trepidation I tried propane camping heaters. None were appropriate for unattended use and a cold boat in the morning seemed unavoidable. For a while I thought about replacing the woodstove with a diesel or kerosene unit heater. From local fishermen I learned of a reliable burner type called a ‘drip pot burner,’ found in many Scandinavian marine unit heaters. It was not necessary to pressurize the fuel to this burner in order to burn it cleanly. Since pressure in the fuel system could tend to magnify the danger of any leaks, and since that pressure would need power or attention to be maintained, the advantages of a gravity burner were clear. The fact remained, however, that a unit heater was still dependent on draft and therefore stack length. More importantly, I wasn’t ready to give up the glow of my woodstove.

A brief exchange of ‘favorite gear’ comments with a passing cruiser put me on the trail of a company called Wallas® in my quest for a heating solution. Among the products Wallas® manufactures is a forced hot air marine furnace which utilizes a burner similar in concept to the drip pot type. A small resistive element is used for ignition. Combustion and cabin air are separate throughout the process and are provided by small fans. Exhaust is vented through the center of a double walled flex pipe, while combustion air is brought in and preheated in the outer passage of the same pipe. The outside of the pipe gets warm, but never hot.

The more I investigated this unit for my installation, the more advantages surfaced. The Wallas® uses less 12 Volt power to ignite and run than any other forced hot air heater I found. Less than 10 Amps of current starts the combustion process. Two to three amps are adequate to power the fuel delivery pump, control circuit and fans thereafter. This was within my energy budget even with limited battery storage capacity. Low ambient noise made installation in a hanging locker between the forward and main cabins possible. As this is part of the head, both it and the locker would benefit from residual heat around the unit. Ducting was simple given the central location. Direct wiring to the battery with an inline fuse is recommended. This was advantageous as the run from the battery was shorter than from the main breaker panel. The exhaust fitting was installed through the cabin trunk side, far above the waterline. A separate fuel tank in the bottom of the locker is convenient for the ability to vary the heater’s fuel diet in spite of the more frequent need for refilling. As a final perk, the control head for the Wallas® is installed on the bulkhead at the head of my forward cabin bunk. Reaching out from under the covers to switch on the heater certainly beats getting up to light the woodstove.

No machinery installation is ever perfect, and some of the limitations of this system were clear initially while others have surfaced along the way. Wallas® has a very small market share in the U.S. As a unit specifically designed for marine use, this is hardly their fault. Most weekenders store their boats before the frost falls. But with increasing crowds and demand in the high season come larger number of off season sailors. Hopefully this will improve the presence of Wallas’s® line of products. Currently they are distributed and serviced in the U.S. only by ScanMarine of Seattle, WA.( phone: 206-285-3675) Perhaps ‘only’ is an unfair label since Karl has been professional, fair and knowledgeable, even if a week away by ground shipment. The trade off is in having a unit that is more user serviceable than most along with good parts availability, albeit with service more distant if serious attention is required.

All of the available forced hot air units I considered have a cycle life between major rebuilds of between 2500 and 3000 hours run time. A quick look at the math will show that this would make them unsuitable as the full time primary heat source for a liveaboard boat unless annual overhaul were accepted. Specifically, the small fan motors and some minor internal burner components in the Wallas® create this limitation. That both of these replacements appear in the ‘user serviceable’ category somewhat alleviates the long distance service issue. Since there is not presently a system with the long duty cycle life of a land based furnace and the energy efficiency of the Wallas®, maintenance is the cost of the compromise. For my own purpose of extending my ‘unplugged’ season, this simply meant not discarding the shore power electric heating system.

I’d venture there are as many different ways to heat a floating home as a land based one. One thing I’ve learned from all of this has been that there’s always more to learn. Building codes and a larger consumer market make options for heating a house fairly easy to research. This is probably why land dwellers get together and talk about the weather while we floating folk talk about what to do about it. It seems the best way to spread ideas afloat is still the good old fashioned ‘word of mouth’ method. But then that’s a good part of the fun of it I guess. So if you see Charis in some cozy backwater, please come over and tell me about your favorite bit of outfit. Who knows, maybe we can solve some of each others vexing liveaboard problems over a cold sundowner or hot chocolate, depending on the season.

Bio.
Christopher Melo is an independent naval architect, marine engineer and licensed captain based in South Dartmouth, MA. His professional focus is on commercial, passenger, and educational vessels. Charis, a 1966 Pearson Alberg 35 has been his home since 1990 and magic carpet between the Caribbean and New England.

Eco-Boat

2009-01-30T13:27:00.000-08:00

The following is from a presentation created to share concepts and ideas with the curious.....

Introduction:

Eco for me is a term used more in keeping with it’s Greek root – home, dwelling, or household. I’m a naval architect and I design boats. If I designed buildings, I suppose it would be fun to try living in one. For the record, I don’t care for “green” either. Too much association with seasick skin tone I guess.

When I moved aboard Charis 20 years ago it was with the intention to see the world from my home, not to save it with my ideas. Solutions evolved from a desire to establish a sustainable and portable standard of living. To understand how this differs from land based solution research, one must understand that most of the time, most boats are very small islands. All resources must be carried in or created and all waste must be carried off or processed. The nearest land based analogy is found in “off-grid” habitation, and indeed, many of the solutions to be discussed derive from that sector.

It is not my purpose to advocate my specific choice of lifestyle. In fact, without many of my prior choices of career and recreation, and without much mentoring from those around me as a result of those choices, I could not have succeeded. If there is one factor that has allowed the balance you see to exist, it is the concept of scale. Our cultural embrace of size and excess volume was the first thing to set aside. An ability to choose simplicity, with occasional enjoyment of excess was the essential mental adjustment. Our societal concepts of success lend little support to this transition, so much resolve is needed between extended cruises.

Charis was not a packaged solution, but rather the result of a slow change in perspective on consumption and lengthy research into tools to optimize resources. It is my honest belief that real change in land based carbon footprint can only occur along a similar thought path evolution. It never occurred to me to try to find my solutions in a “supermarket” environment, and the very concept that I could would have indicated that I was not mentally prepared to live “unplugged.”

I once bought a new vacuum cleaner on the strength of the negative evaluation of a nearby shopper who told her friend “Don’t buy that one. I had one and always had to empty it.” I’m quite sure she did not live on a boat.

The investment in renewable energy was a simple choice for me. No economic evaluation was needed. The equipment was instrumental in creating a comfortable and autonomous home. The return on my investment was to be able to be at home in far away places. The slides running now are some of my “homes away from home.”

Overview:

Charis is a 1966 Pearson Alberg 35. Her designer studied naval architecture in Sweden and had successful careers in ship and Coast Guard rescue vessel design before focusing on yachts in his retirement. Her design is conservative and in no way extreme. She has been an ideal platform for my project in offering excellent seaworthiness for her size and an ability to carry extra weight impossible for more performance oriented boats.

On land, energy is produced in a place we can’t usually see or hear, and is piped and wired into our lives in such quantities as we demand. It is a credit balance based system. Leave the light on and pay a little more next month. On Charis, for 8 months or more per year, energy is produced somewhere within 35 feet. It is stored in a bank of batteries and used as needed. This represents more of a “cash in hand” based energy economy in the sense that one cannot consume what has not been created. Leave the light on and tomorrow’s beer might be warm. The result of this difference is a subconscious energy accounting system. There will be times when circumstances allow entertainment to include TV and times when a book is more appropriate. Sometimes cold can be chased away at the push of a button, while other times the woodstove better suits the energy on hand.

Fresh water consumption follows the same formula. Tanks on board hold 55 gallons of water and pumps deliver it to sinks and showers. A water heater that uses electricity or waste heat from the auxiliary diesel engine is installed. Simplistic solar hot water systems are also used whenever possible.

Comfort with the choice of a composting toilet required considerable research and education. The incentive for me was beyond dispute. Marine “heads” with their requisite hoses, valves, and tanks are a maintenance nightmare. Few ever achieve better than “not too unpleasant” odor characteristics given the mix of waste, seawater organisms, and marginal tank venting at best. We are fortunate in this area to enjoy a good network of subsidized marine waste pumping facilities. Such is not the case in other places. The composting toilet offers a solution that works everywhere and relies only on individual initiative.

In addition to its ability to warm the cabin, the woodstove has proven valuable in reduction of solid waste volume. On many Caribbean islands, solid waste management is primitive or nonexistent. A significant challenge in such locations is the ability to contain and carry waste to the nearest acceptable disposal location. Combined with responsible repackaging practices, the ability to burn waste has effectively doubled the time it is possible to spend in such sensitive settings.

Specific discussion will include devices and means of producing power and the appliances that consume it.

Power Production:

Non renewable power sources on board include the Auxiliary diesel engine – a 2 cylinder, 18 HP Volvo that moves Charis’s 10 tons at a maximum speed of 5 knots and a cruising speed of 4. At cruising speed this engine will consume 0.2 to.25 gallons of diesel fuel per hour, resulting in a range of over 500 nautical miles, or most of the way to Bermuda. A Honda EU 1000 gasoline generator is used when necessary to fill gaps in electrical energy production from other sources. In a year’s time, less than 5 gallons of aviation grade gasoline are used by the generator. During the coldest 4 months per year, when ice and cold make a dock space essential, electricity is consumed from a grid connection. The power is used for all on board appliances including electric heating.

Electricity is produced on board by four sources: the diesel engine alternator, the Honda generator, and more to the point, a Southwest Windpower Airmarine 403 turbine, and 2 Siemens M55, 55 watt solar panels. I would estimate that 90 to 95% of my power needs while off the dock are derived from the turbine and solar panels.

The turbine is my second. I installed a 6 blade LVM 3 in 1990 and used it successfully for 9 years. It was quieter that the present installation, but achieved a maximum output of 5 to 7 amps, contrasted to potentially 25 to 30 amps from the AirMarine. The LVM was destroyed in a microburst on my second return from the Caribbean. By far, the principle liability of the present turbine is poor blade wheel design. It can be extremely noisy – enough that it must at times be shut down to avoid noise pollution in sensitive settings. In the Caribbean, where most anchorages are in the lee of an island with nothing downwind for hundreds of miles, one simply learns to anchor at the back of the fleet.

The Siemens M55 PV panels have been flawless. These are rigid monocrystaline cell panels with tempered glass over the crystals. Amorphous panels used to have a lifespan of about 5 years, though recent advances may have them closing the gap with monocrystaline ones. The Siemens panels came with a 20 year warrantee. In 12 years, no noticeable output reduction has occurred, though it is important to understand that the rated output of a panel is at the panel, and the actual yield will always be lower at the point of use due to losses in the wiring. The single maintenance liability I have found with the PV panels has been the need to clean and occasionally replace wire and connections due to the corrosive marine environment. In fact this is common to all wiring on board, but the relatively low current flow from the PV’s makes any connection losses significant. PV panels achieve highest output while oriented perpendicular to the sun and with no surface shadows. This is the reason for the pivoting mount system used on my two panels. Yield is improved significantly when I am able to position the panels according the sun angle. To get equivalent yield from fixed panels, more are needed.

Power Consumption:

Refrigeration is the largest constant power demand on my electrical system. Until recently, an old and inefficient system required me to maintain a supply of ice and use the mechanical system to slow its’ melt. It is not unusual to meet European cruisers who have simply adjusted to no refrigeration at all. My intention has always been to enjoy this lifestyle with as many comforts of a land based life as possible, so that option has not been my choice. Instead, I have reduced my cold storage to less than 3 cubic feet, trading off the additional capacity for insulation thickness. I did this with Polystyrene basement insulation boards installed inside the box and finished with recycled plastic sign board. The concept of the refrigerator as the great food locker has given way to wondering why exactly it was that we refrigerated peanut butter, maple syrup, etc. 3 Years ago, with the help of Northeast Marine Systems in Fairhaven, I upgraded the system to an Isotherm ASU unit. In the ice box is a “holding plate,” essentially a large block that freezes and thaws slowly over time. Cooling the holding plate is a compressor that has the ability to sense the level of available power and either run faster to take advantage of peak production or slower to demand less of the battery bank when excess charge is not available. The concept is to use current when production exceeds charging demand rather than adding batteries to store more of it. This “intelligent” appliance has ended what one crew accurately dubbed my “ice-capades.”

Heating is possible in many ways on Charis. Off grid, the most convenient method is through a forced hot air furnace that uses electricity from the battery bank to run fans and controls, and to ignite the fuel. There are a few manufacturers of boat-sized units that work this way. Unfortunately, most were developed to heat busses, and so were never optimized to reduce electrical consumption. Since the bus engine would always be running and producing ample power with its alternator, there was never a need. Research and advice from other cruisers eventually pointed me toward Wallas, a Finland based manufacturer of heaters derived from the market there for off grid vacation cabins. Their unit combines the convenience features of a home furnace with a design so energy efficient that it is easily supplied from alternate energy electrical sources. The central forced hot air furnace burns diesel fuel or kerosene. Used as my primary heat source in fall and spring months, this furnace typically consumes about 2 gallons of fuel in a month to a month and a half.

A wood stove is also installed to provide heat and help with waste volume reduction. The Dickinson Newport has the advantage of being able to be used as a fireplace with the front opened, so I’ve kept it in spite of many other shortcomings.

During the coldest 4 months in New England, Charis is dockside and “on grid” with electric heat. I have a second shore power circuit that controls two thermostatic outlets. These run two ceramic electric heaters. In extreme cold, a third can be run on the normal house shore power circuit allowing a total outside to inside temperature differential of about 100 degrees F.

Cooking is achieved with propane stored in a 20lb (gas grill) cylinder which lasts about 3 months. Propane has inherent dangers being heavier than air, but CNG is not available in the Carribean, so it was the only viable gas choice for my use. A vented sealed locker, which doubles as my helm seat, solenoid shut-off valve, and leak sniffer offer some degree of protection from leakage, but would not solve the problem of gas leaking overboard offshore. As a backup, a pressure kerosene seaswing “primus” stove is carried on long passages. This is in keeping with my general philosophy that the way to arrive with one sure way of doing something is to depart with 2 sure ways of doing it.

Lighting is a somewhat constant electrical demand. I have installed just about every type of illumination made. Original incandescent fixtures are the least efficient, but are reliable and effective. Most of these have now been converted to ultra efficient LED bulbs rendering their power consumption negligible. Fluorescent fixtures are less power thirsty, but require circuitry to convert battery power to AC house current, and are therefore more failure prone in the marine setting. Small, high intensity reading lamps are scattered around in the likely places. Ironically, more light fixtures usually means less energy use as one light in the right place is worth two in the wrong spots. Independent battery LED fixtures are stuck here and there according to need, and are excellent for their ability to run for long periods one set of batteries. Solar garden lights are an ongoing experiment in renewable background lighting. Oil lamps are used for background lighting in off grid mode. The Aladdin non-pressurized kerosene mantle lamp is particularly effective. This lamp was invented in 1913, but was eclipsed by the spread of the electrical grid before it could become widely known. Lighting from oil lamps typically consumes 1.5 to 2 gallons of kerosene per year. Poor quality kerosene since the recent fuel price wars has forced me to buy pure paraffin for my lamps.

Pumps are a small but important electrical demand. They are used to create pressure at the faucets and to pump drain water overboard. Compliments of lessons learned trying to repair a freshwater pump with shampoo dripping in my eyes, two pressure fresh water pumps are installed in parallel so that loss of one does not shut down the water system. An accidental discovery in the interest of pump longevity has allowed a simple solution to greatly reduce the nitrogen content of this drain water. More about this follows in the waste management discussion.

Elective power use is centered mainly around entertainment and onboard work. Small Hella fans are the occasional use exception. Stereo, TV, and DVD are simply not background noise taken for granted. Books are my any time entertainment source. It is amazing how well thought can flourish in absence of sensory bombardment entertainment. Use of the computer for on board work is less elective, but somewhat adjustable. In the Caribbean, for example, I found the mid day to be suited to being in the shade of the cabin working, while the solar panels more than made up for my power use with their peak production.

While passagemaking, electrical use shifts toward communication and navigation equipment, but generally a balance is maintained with little difficulty.

Energy Monitoring:

Awareness of power production and stored capacity is maintained with a host of meters. These display incoming power, power being consumed, and charge level on a constant basis. This information forms the basis for the ongoing mental energy accounting necessary to keep all systems running.

Indoor/outdoor thermometers are another much used monitoring tool. One is used to maintain watch of the refrigerator temperature. Another monitors the water heater temperature such that use of the engine or generator to heat water is only as needed. On Gulfstream crossings, one is attached to a through hull fitting to monitor water temperature – a useful source of important navigation information.

Water Consumption:
Charis has a total water tank capacity barely equal to the average land base daily water use for one person. This is not atypical for a boat her size. Sustainability requires that this resource be managed with even greater consideration than electricity at times. One cannot live long without water, and the ocean offers no place to replenish along the way.

While larger boats with bigger energy budgets are often equipped with reverse osmosis desalinators which produce fresh water from salt, Charis is not. This equipment is extremely power hungry and maintenance intensive, and so has not made its way into either my electrical or financial budget. Most desalinator equipped vessels rely on engine or generator to create the power demanded.

Conservation has proven my most viable means of dealing with limited fresh water capacity. Shower heads made from garden sprayer wands produce a powerful spray at less than 10% of the flow of a standard shower head. Momentary start/stop switches on sink and shower taps allow water to be “pulsed” rather than sprayed continuously. A manually pumped deck sprayer serves as a multi-mode hot water shower – solar by virtue of its black color, gas by adding a kettle of boiling water from the stove, or low draw electric with a simple immersion (coffee warmer) heater. The installed shower and bathroom sink use a recirculation system to allow unused fresh water to be returned to the tanks until hot water from the main water heater reaches the tap. How often does it occur to us in land life to think of running the shower until it’s hot as wasteful? When taking on fresh water becomes a deliberate chore, it’s an inescapable consideration.

There is, of course, an unlimited source of salt water just outside the hull. In fact, for some cooking and most washing and needs, this is an acceptable alternative if completed with a fresh water rinse to remove the salt residue. Charis has a pressurized seawater piping system including hose spigots, galley sink sprayer, and outdoor shower which allow convenient substitution of salt water for limited supply fresh. This system has effectively halved onboard fresh water consumption, or doubled the effective time I can spend away from a fresh water supply. The significance of this is emphasized when one arrives at a tropical island which is itself critically low on drinking water. To avoid sinking your own boat, use rubber seawater hose on this system and to install a warning light on the pump so that it is not left on unattended.

Waste Management:

As a constant guest in a public resource environment, it is paramount to be as considerate about waste generation as possible. It is a responsibility I feel acutely to minimize my footprint on a place I choose to visit so that I and others after me will enjoy a welcome untainted by suspicion of insensitivity.

Installation of a urine diverting composting toilet has been the single biggest leap toward a self directed ability to leave a clean wake. The result of the installation has been a 4 times increase in holding capacity, the removal of all unpleasant odor associated with older holding tank –salt water flush installations, and the ability to completely eliminate nitrogen and bacteria contribution without outside facilities which really exist only in a few areas even now. The “airhead” installed separates urine into one tank – emptied in a shore side toilet or in a “grow away” garden. Solid waste is blended with a hard carbon source such as peat moss or saw dust and wood stove ash and exposed to a constant low volume air flow. It is composted in the toilet and later in an onshore “post composter” barrel for a minimum of 6 months. After as little as 1 month, the compost has virtually none of the appearance or odor of its origin source.

Increased holding capacity is achieved with the assistance of “Mr. Peebuddy,” a simple dry urinal made from recycled plastic bottles. As with the airhead tank, liquid waste is either emptied in a shore side toilet or utilized in a “grow away” garden. See Carol Steinfeld’s book “Liquid Gold” for more complete details on the garden application.

Grey Water, or drain wash water cannot be practically retained in any quantity on a small boat. It is collected in a small transfer sump and pumped overboard. It was initially the result of the need to protect the discharge pump that led to the installation of nylon stocking legs on the drain lines where they enter the sump. As it turns out, the same soap and hair residue so detrimental to the discharge pump also contains most of the nitrogen outflow. Once a year or so, the nylon stocking filters are disposed of ashore and replaced. The amount of residue they contain is astounding, even with concerted effort to minimize soap compounds use. Those which are used on board are carefully scrutinized for biodegradability, preference given to those of plant rather than petroleum base.

A stainless steel kitchen compost bucket with a charcoal filter in the lid has been a big help in reducing both the volume and odor in the main trash bag. In warmer months it is amazing how quickly the volume of organic scraps decreases, often allowing even the small pail to contain a weekend of kitchen scrap.

It was in the Tobago Cays in the southern Caribbean that I first came to appreciate the woodstove as a waste management tool. There was no development and no trash disposal service in this sensitive barrier reef island group, so 100% carry out was the only responsible practice. With some advanced planning and repackaging, and burning of everything possible, two weeks of waste could be fit in one grocery bag. Even where disposal is more readily available, I now burn all paper products on board, resulting in a constant supply of charcoal ash to mix with my compost toilet additive.

Underway:

Wind is obviously Charis’s primary source of motion. But ocean voyaging on a small boat with limited space for crew and stores requires constant motion. There is no place to stop, and constant progress toward one’s destination translates to shortest possible passage time and least weather exposure. An electric autopilot is useful when a continuous electrical supply is available in excess of all other requirements, but this is not always the case. The Cape Horn Self Steering wind vane is as near perfect an example of harnessing available ambient energy as one will find. This simple but ingenious device utilizes a combination of the force of the water flowing past the hull and the wind to steer the boat on a constant course relative to the wind. It requires no electricity and gains in strength as wind boat speed increase. It is the additional crew that effectively steers all the time offshore allowing the crew to maintain watch and attend other voyage needs.