one, as we had. Look at the delay as an opportunity to get to know the other in-limbo boaters around you, the locals of the place youâre staying, and the points of interest of the land youâre anchored off, and/or utilize the time to work on your boat.
Ah, yes, more time to work on the boat.
Need Fuel?
Before we could leave, we had to fill our two diesel tanks, about 90 gallons each. We didnât know how to dock (Captain Tim wasnât on the boat yet, and we were tired of bothering our friends on
Siyaya
), so when we discovered a way to get fueled mid-float, we couldnât resist. We just stayed put while a tanker pulled up next to us in the harbor, tied off to us (rubber fenders are your friend), threw out some hoses, and filled our tanks. Now we knew how those military planes felt getting fueled in midair. It was cool, until the fuel overflowed into our anchor bin. As with a car, there is a specific place on a boat to insert the hose to prevent this, but we wanted to filter the fuel with a cone made for that purpose. So we opened the actual fuel tanks, located in the anchor locker, to make the filtering easier and the fueling faster. So fast, we spilled. We then cleaned the chain, the ropes, and the fiberglass. Now we were ready.
So Thirsty
Or not. The freshwater tanks suddenly started sucking air. Incredibly, most boats (at least older ones) have no way of monitoring the freshwater level in the tanks. Itâs almost impossible to do so in a catamaran, particularly this one. We used the same water tanks for drinking and washing. We had a filter on our kitchen sink to allow us to drink worry-free.
Okay, fine, we were out of water. We went to turn on the electric watermaker for the first time to âmakeâ some (it converts salt water to fresh) and found that it didnât work. Evidently all the pistons were shot because no one had âpickledâ the system before taking it out of use. It would cost so much to fix that we decided to leave it broken.
We had a rainwater catchment systemâtwo rain gutters that ran down the outside of the salon (living area) directly into our water tanks. This would work beautifullyâwhen it rained. We needed water
now
, and a lot of it.
Just as with the fueling, the easiest method would have been taking the boat to the docks and using a water hose, but our inexperience kept rearing its ugly little head. That left filling six 5-gallon jerry cans with water and dinghying back and forth until we reached our 185-gallon capacity. Oy.
Motor to dock, fill cans, load into dinghy, haul onto boat, empty into tanks, toss empty containers back into dinghy, motor back. Do it again ⦠and again ⦠and again ⦠Our aching backs. Letâs fill the dinghy gas tank again while weâre there too, shall we?
Once done, we turned on the faucets and were rewarded with ⦠nothing. Just the constant whirring of our electric water pump, which was supposed to be bringing water to the faucets. Frickinâ Frackinâ. We speed-dialed Stephen and were told we had an air pocket in the system. No problem. All we had to do was turn on all the faucets for a while ⦠and release all that hard earned water?!
Anything else? Why, yes, of course, there was lots more. We owned a boat now.
Energize Me
A constant source of consternation for us and amusement for you will be learning how to track your energy usage, or amp hours. I have to get a little technical here, but stick with meâitâs important.
Some things work on 12 volts (remember car cigarette lighters?), such as your lights, electric anchor windlass (it brings your anchor up and down), navigation electronics, bilge pump (it sucks water out of your boat if you spring a leak), anchor light, refrigeration, and VHF/radio.
Youâll likely want some things that work only on 110 or 220 volts, such as your laptop, hair dryer, and blender. Although you can get 12-volt versions of these, we found
Ah, yes, more time to work on the boat.
Need Fuel?
Before we could leave, we had to fill our two diesel tanks, about 90 gallons each. We didnât know how to dock (Captain Tim wasnât on the boat yet, and we were tired of bothering our friends on
Siyaya
), so when we discovered a way to get fueled mid-float, we couldnât resist. We just stayed put while a tanker pulled up next to us in the harbor, tied off to us (rubber fenders are your friend), threw out some hoses, and filled our tanks. Now we knew how those military planes felt getting fueled in midair. It was cool, until the fuel overflowed into our anchor bin. As with a car, there is a specific place on a boat to insert the hose to prevent this, but we wanted to filter the fuel with a cone made for that purpose. So we opened the actual fuel tanks, located in the anchor locker, to make the filtering easier and the fueling faster. So fast, we spilled. We then cleaned the chain, the ropes, and the fiberglass. Now we were ready.
So Thirsty
Or not. The freshwater tanks suddenly started sucking air. Incredibly, most boats (at least older ones) have no way of monitoring the freshwater level in the tanks. Itâs almost impossible to do so in a catamaran, particularly this one. We used the same water tanks for drinking and washing. We had a filter on our kitchen sink to allow us to drink worry-free.
Okay, fine, we were out of water. We went to turn on the electric watermaker for the first time to âmakeâ some (it converts salt water to fresh) and found that it didnât work. Evidently all the pistons were shot because no one had âpickledâ the system before taking it out of use. It would cost so much to fix that we decided to leave it broken.
We had a rainwater catchment systemâtwo rain gutters that ran down the outside of the salon (living area) directly into our water tanks. This would work beautifullyâwhen it rained. We needed water
now
, and a lot of it.
Just as with the fueling, the easiest method would have been taking the boat to the docks and using a water hose, but our inexperience kept rearing its ugly little head. That left filling six 5-gallon jerry cans with water and dinghying back and forth until we reached our 185-gallon capacity. Oy.
Motor to dock, fill cans, load into dinghy, haul onto boat, empty into tanks, toss empty containers back into dinghy, motor back. Do it again ⦠and again ⦠and again ⦠Our aching backs. Letâs fill the dinghy gas tank again while weâre there too, shall we?
Once done, we turned on the faucets and were rewarded with ⦠nothing. Just the constant whirring of our electric water pump, which was supposed to be bringing water to the faucets. Frickinâ Frackinâ. We speed-dialed Stephen and were told we had an air pocket in the system. No problem. All we had to do was turn on all the faucets for a while ⦠and release all that hard earned water?!
Anything else? Why, yes, of course, there was lots more. We owned a boat now.
Energize Me
A constant source of consternation for us and amusement for you will be learning how to track your energy usage, or amp hours. I have to get a little technical here, but stick with meâitâs important.
Some things work on 12 volts (remember car cigarette lighters?), such as your lights, electric anchor windlass (it brings your anchor up and down), navigation electronics, bilge pump (it sucks water out of your boat if you spring a leak), anchor light, refrigeration, and VHF/radio.
Youâll likely want some things that work only on 110 or 220 volts, such as your laptop, hair dryer, and blender. Although you can get 12-volt versions of these, we found
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