By Suzanna Leigh
During the dark days of winter, my boat sits alone at the dock, the leak I neglected to fix last summer dripping enough moisture into the cabin to encourage mold on the walls and rust on the stove. Her keel sports a beard of sea algae. She needs some work to get her ready to sail again, and Oh! I so don’t want to spend my limited time and energy on boat maintenance! Best, I think, to clean her up and sell her.
But then comes warmer weather. A breeze plays on the water as I look out over Tramp Harbor, and I long to play in it, to feel the push of wind on sail as it carries me north to adventure, or south through the Narrows to a cozy little cove I know. A cove such as the little bay behind McMicken Island.
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It was quiet when we dropped anchor in McMicken Bay, between an island about the size of a city park and Hartstine Island. No sound but the cries of crows. There were two or three sailboats with couples lounging on deck. Someone dropped a crab pot. A few people dug clams on the beach. The water was thick with jellyfish called sea nettles. Their name answers the question about what would happen if Bob came in contact with one while he was in the water.
Bob plans to dive under the boat tomorrow morning, to check out an annoying rattle. We think it might just be a loose “zinc,” a zinc disk on the propeller shaft that draws the electric current away from the metal shaft. An electric current forms between the different metals on the hull and engine, causing the metals to be eaten away – unless there is a third metal that gets eaten away more quickly, usually a disk of zinc. The zinc is sacrificed to save the propeller and shaft.
The next morning, with fewer sea nettles in evidence, Bob and I planned how he would get back up on the boat after his dive. The water, even in July in this shallow cove, was so cold, it took his breath away, and he wouldn’t be able to get his foot up to the boat ladder. If our plan A didn’t work, our plan B was that I would load blankets into the dingy and tow Bob to shore to dry and warm up before coming back to the boat on the dingy. It’s easy to get onto the boat ladder from the dingy.
Plan A did work, though. Bob connected the jib halyard – the end that connects to the jib sail – to his life jacket. The other end wound around a winch that would make it easier for me to haul him up just as though I was hauling up the sail. We strung a line from the bow to a pulley at the stern and from there to the other jib winch and cleat, making it secure. The line sank far enough below the water surface that Bob could get his foot on it. From there, he could get his foot on the boat ladder, when I hauled him up. I used the winch handle to give me more leverage, and it worked!
And yes, it was the lump of zinc turning loosely on the propeller shaft that was rattling. Bob determined that it was doing no damage and we could wait until we were at the home dock to fix it.
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Remembering McMicken Bay, I think maybe there are more boating adventures ahead. Maybe I don’t want to sell the boat quite yet.
