Dec 6: 47th Time’s a Charm?

It is still too early to celebrate, but it appears the stinking autopilot may be fixed. I just got back from a short trip around Biscayne Bay and it performed flawlessly, so I am at least hopeful; hopeful enough that my spirits have risen to the point that I can update this blog.

The last 48 hours were eventful and difficult. I spent Friday night anchored off Port Everglades, rocking and rolling (as I knew I would), but really were not a lot of options. This meant almost no sleep. Saturday, I motored down to Miami, the wind again being right in my face. I was planning to fuel and water in Miami Beach , but arrived concurrent with a pretty good rain storm. I skipped the fuel and continued down into Biscayne Bay, dropping the hook west of Key Biscayne.

I spent the afternoon dismantling and cleaning the autopilot’s hydraulic ram, reassembling it with a distinct feeling of hope (but not ,“change”). Of course, as we have all come to expect, my “fix” produced temporary satisfaction followed by crushing disappointment. It has gotten to the point that I fully expect to fail, not a good state of mind. I resolved not to give up, but was very discouraged by the time I crawled into bed.

Everything was going fine until about 10:00 p.m. when the winds kicked up significantly, as they had been predicted to do. The GPS alerted me to the fact that the CQR anchor was dragging, so I hopped up on deck to save the day. Being a prudent mariner, I immediately started the engine in case it might be needed and headed up to the bow to veer a little more chain. I failed to notice that the wind and current were opposed; causing the dingy which was tethered to Alana’s stern with about 30 feet of polypropylene line to lie up against Alana’s starboard side. While I was messing with the anchor, the poly somehow was drawn down into Alana’s slowly revolving propeller (there is enough drag in the clutch that the shaft rolls even in neutral) and wrapping itself a couple dozen times around the shaft. When it became apparent that veering chain would not do the trick, I recovered the anchor and headed aft to reposition the boat to windward; this is when I noticed that the propeller was fouled. I was drifting without power toward both shoals and a mega yacht which was also attempting to reset their anchor with only one option. I dropped the Bruce anchor, the one I should have used in the first place, and it thankfully held in the silt/grass bottom. I then focused my attention on the jackass maneuvering his 150-yacht under Alana’s stern, apparently oblivious to the fact that I was having difficulties. I was not yet certain that the Bruce would hold, and this guy was dropping his anchor maybe 200 feet under my stern. I called repeatedly on the radio, flashed a light in his direction and howled profanities ant the top of my lungs, all to no effect. Luckily my anchor continued to hold and Captain Nemo gave up on anchoring, so it worked out. I spent a restless night checking frequently on Alana’s position, again, getting little sleep.

This morning I donned my flippers and mask for an early morning swim. I managed to clear the propeller, but had to cut the line. It was damaged anyway, so cutting it was no tragedy. I just need to rig up a suitable replacement. I don’t know if I bother with poly line again. It supposedly floats (ha!), but has no spring to it, making it less-than-ideal as towline.

Next, I again took up the matter of the autopilot. I was not eager to do so, but the thought of hand-steering through the Keys (where hazards are very close at hand) and on to Pensacola was intolerable. I focused my attention on the solenoid valve which is designed to route the hydraulic fluid through the ram/pump appropriately, depending on whether the system is in “auto” or “standby.” I thought I had found the problem when I “proved” the solenoid was bad. I was almost ready to order a new solenoid, but not being an electrical expert, I called my dad, affectionately known as The Nutty Professor, to run my conclusions past him. He immediately pointed out a flaw in my procedure and suggested an alternative. I hooked the solenoid up to a 12V source and repeatedly cycled it, demonstrating that it was working fine. I don’t know if all this cycling of the solenoid perhaps dislodged some contaminant that was causing it to stick, but the system has been working correctly ever since. I feel a sense of hope, (still no “change”), but am not allowing myself to celebrate yet. The test sail around the bay is a good indication, but I have been let down too often in the past. It will take a 24-hr test to convince me it is fixed.

The channel between here and Hawk Channel, the passable route between the Keys and the offshore reef, is a little sketchy, so I think I’ll head back north in the morning, fuel in Miami Beach, then head out to sea via Government Cut. Keep your fingers crossed that Iron Mike does not let me down again. In the mean time, I am going to enjoy a well earned nap.

I don't really have an appropriate picture to accompany this post, so have included a picture of Jessica's nephew, perhaps the world's cutest baby.