17 June: Infarct
No, I’m not talking about me. I know as little about my own artery as I did about Regina’s. But I had my suspicions: it had become increasingly difficult to empty the holding tank. But the fact that the diameter of the hoses had become miniscule outranged my imagination. Every inch of all hoses connected to the toilet system had built up a coating, it was not just clogged up at one specific place.
If you think of it, we had been out cruising for 18 months in total since Regina was new. Four people had been using one single toilet. Comparing with an ordinary 4 weeks summer holiday, this equals to 18 years of flushing. In hindsight, it was maybe not that surprising.
The combination urine and saltwater, especially tropical seawater, turn into a hard coating which builds up inside the hoses. This had happened despite us following good advice from experienced sailors: Flushing with a lot of water, emptying the tank regularly and letting hoses and tank sit in vinegar overnight every other week or so is said to help, but apparently not enough.
Our Scandinavian summer cruise of 2007 hence began with a three-day job. One of the days, the second one, was even our 15th wedding anniversary. I must say, I have a very long-suffering wife. Instead of giving her flowers and an invitation to a romantic restaurant, her swearing, stinking anniversary groom was locked into the head compartment. After a quick shower at the end of a hard day with only little success, we at least found time to open a bottle of Spanish Cava. We sat “on the rocks”, enjoying the beautiful scenery and almost forgot the reason for my grumbling.
Luckily, we got some help from a yard on the third day. They had done the job before on numerous other boats, knew what I was talking about and helped me to get the entire tank out.
To get the entire system back into place inside the cupboard was just as hard as it was to remove it. The cupboard was hardly larger than the tank itself and I needed the help of the yard again. I complained about how cramped the installation was, but the yard guys just laughed: “Be glad that you own a Hallberg-Rassy!”, they said, “Had you owned another boat, the risk had been obvious that taking out the tank had been impossible without taking apart the entire boat first.” I hadn’t thought of that. Who thinks of taking out a tank when looking at a boat on a boat-show?
Using a boat extensively, as we had been doing, changes how you regard things. Just take the water-maker as an example. When we chose our water-maker, we looked at how much water it could produce per amp-hour and what space it needed. We wanted an easy to use machine, since we did not understand how a water-maker works in first place. The Spectra water-maker fulfilled all our requirements for a perfect model. The Schenker or the PUR (now Kadadyn) were similar in that respect. They all come in an enclosed and compact box with all parts inside. Very practical, I had thought, and neat! The sophisticated “Clark Pump” is very power efficient and a masterpiece in engineering. The entire miracle is controlled by one single button called “Auto Run” with a display showing what the computer controls and the status of operation. Clever!
But when we got the message “Salinity probe failure” on our fancy display, it meant that one of the many gauges, in this case the salinometer, was out of order and had to be replaced before the “Auto Run” button could be pressed. To receive a spare salinometer in Sweden was not the issue thanks to excellent Spectra service by Mastervolt in Sweden. The challenge was to get access to it inside the tiny box, where everything else had been pressed in as well. It was almost as challenging as getting the holding tank out of its cupboard the day before.
These days, my requirements for a good water-maker is different to the advertised “compact models” at boat-exhibitions. Why putting everything into a fancy box, when easy accessibility is so much more important? I would today choose a water-maker built by robust standard components, which are readily available around the globe. And since I know understand how a water-maker works, I don’t need a computer using numerous measuring points to run. Every gauge is a risk of failure.
After four days, Regina was up and running again and as beautiful as ever. The “For Sale sign” had been taken down and we were slowly coming back into cruising mode.
We talked about how we felt to have returned to these waters and to be back onboard Regina after almost one year ashore. Our feelings were manifold. On one hand, it felt so unreal that we, at all, ever had been in the Caribbean with Regina. All that far in this little boat? Her hull was shining and the teak looked as new after having been washed and cleaned with Boracol. Nothing could tell she had over 17.000 miles under her keel.
And to our amazement we found that going for a summer’s cruise lasting just under three months was hardly worth bunkering for. We remembered: When there were just three months left of our sabbatical family adventure last year, I think we had just arrived in the Azores, we were already planing the haul-out and were doing our best to run down our supplies onboard. Was it worth stocking up with herbs and spices for just a summer’s cruise? How much food should we buy for just three months of cruising? Going shopping every few days, instead? The idea that shops were readily available felt luxurious, but living on a boat with food lasting for only a week felt strange. We had been sailing with stocks of food lasting for months, just in case, and now we should sail from grocery shop to grocery shop?
And then all this equipment onboard! The water-maker, the satellite communication, the SSB and the Duogen towing generator. We wouldn’t need them, really. GSM cell phones work everywhere, water could be filled up in every marina, where also shore power was provided. And if not, motoring in and out of anchorages every day the High Output Alternator gives ample power for our 900 Ah battery bank. Is all this equipment on the transom just ornament these days, testifying that we once had been ocean sailors?
The ornament on our stern was hence not to testify the past but a safety valve for the future, we agreed. With an ocean ready boat, we knew we were able to flee the moment we wished. It’s just a feeling and not realistic, but important nevertheless.
The sun was setting. Extremely slowly it was reaching for the horizon to touch the same around 11.00 pm. By midnight it would still not be dark. Scandinavian summer nights are enchanting.
Karolina and I had also quickly become accustomed to shore life but we were not sure if we preferred it. Our shore-life was a bit similar to the infracted toilet hoses: Time was forced through a pipe far too small to extrude all jobs and tasks that were to be done. Too much in too little time. Costs had multiplied and it was not easy to withstand “must-to-have” things and “must-to-do” events. But we enjoyed it nevertheless and knew that full-time cruising would not become an issue as long as the children go to school.
Encouraged by countless e-mails received through our reginasailing-site, I have used every free time during winter and spring to edit and compile a book about our sailing adventure. That is also the reason why this, our homepage, had been neglected lately. All my writing effort had gone into a manuscript. If it, in the end, turns into a printed book? I don’t know. I have to find a publisher now, and that might take its time.
We were following the sun setting in the west behind some island in the foreground. It was beautiful and we were happy. We felt as if our veins opened up and the blood of life could freely gush inside and around us. We were back to living on Regina! The valves of life were wide open.
The infarct was cured for the this time!
