Departure V2
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Departure V2

Departure V2

Departure v2.0

It was hard leaving San Francisco. I had been treated like royalty and made to feel welcome and at home. It all felt rather undeserved as the only thing I had accomplished thus far was a lubberly loss of one of only two air blades for the wind vane and a sloppy fuel fill. I departed Berkeley Marine Center mired in the dark of pre-morning gloom. There was no one whatsoever and everything seemed in stark contrast to the day before.

But as I write, It feels like we may actually be on our way. Yesterday, it all seemed in doubt. When you’re having a serious conversation with a Master Boat Builder about cutting a giant hole in the side of your boat to remove a built-in tank, you know deep in your soul that things are just about to go sideways n a big way.

Cree, the owner of Berkely Marine Center, was telling was going to be something like $10,000 USD and 2 weeks to do it. Moreover, open-hull surgery would be the cheapest and best option.

The real issue, however, wasn’t the fix it was actually wrong. The stop in Berkeley was made to figure out what in the world had taken up housekeeping in Seaburban’s primary fuel tank. Whatever it was, it was thunder and booming and booing away to such an extent that it seemed certain to rupture the tank, the cabin sole, or me.

While trying to figure the tank problem, Rick Whiting and Nani had commissioned a special delivery of air blades from the folks at Scanmar Marine. The blades themselves were to be delivered by none other than Randall Reeves. In the meantime, however, the whole 5 Capes adventure hung in the balance.

The consensus was that overfilling the tank (that would have been me) had caused at least one of the tank baffles to work loose. Not all of it added up so we were all trying to work through a proper diagnosis. I had intentionally burned through some fuel thinking that if the tank was simply over full, a little motoring could fix that. Cree figured to try and duplicate the noises I had heard by rocking the boat in the Travel Lift slings. I figured we could grab some guys fro around the yard and get the boat rocking right at the finger simply by heaving away at the rail.

In no time we had the rub rails in the water. We took turns listening down below and the tank gremlins were nowhere to be heard. I had simply overfilled the tank and, we supposed, caused the fuel to slap away t the top of the tank. Problem solved. Trip saved. $10,000 to the wiser.

With the tank problem licked, Rick and I waited anxiously for Randall…

Follow my tracks in real-time: