Luderitz, Namibia

Wandering through Luderitz is like a journey through time

Luderitz is known as an up and coming kite surfing destination because of its strong and reliable winds. And on the last day of our voyage, when we were running ahead of an approaching front with bare poles (no sails), and still making six knots, we started to wonder if our choice to come here was a bad one. But since our screeching-tires arrival the wind has dropped and the charms of the place have taken over.

In a certain light this old town is gorgeous. In other light—the kind of harsh illumination most of us live in, it’s simply run down. There are a couple of good grocery stores, an excellent fish market (where the daily buy catch is sold frozen and filleted for a fraction of market cost), a few good restaurants and an excellent data package through Telcom which gets us a week of super high-speed unlimited internet for $300 rand ($20 US).

There’s also the kind of optimistic architecture that makes you think that someone thought this little city was going to be a big deal. Big German mansions—most in need of a paint job—sit above the harbour. Imposing public buildings, including a grand train station, ornate banks and great halls, make each side street worthy of exploring.

The town, built on the wealth of diamond mining, has won us over. It’s found in a rocky patch of the Namib desert—smack in the middle of what’s known as the ‘restricted zone’, the area dedicated to diamond mining which is strictly patrolled and controlled and can’t be entered without a permit.

  

On one day we did get a permit and headed to the ghost town of Kolmonskop. Once a thriving mining town—with a street of millionaires and a hall that hosted opera singers, it hit a bust cycle when bigger and better diamonds were found further north.

Founded in1908 when railway worker Zacharias Lewala discovered diamonds just sitting on the sand it was abandoned after only a few decades. At its peak 300 German adults, 40 children and 800 native Owambo contract workers lived in Kolmanskop. The first x-ray machine (to track misplaced diamonds) in Southern Africa was found here—as well as a bowling alley, ballroom and school.

These days it’s part living museum, part ghost town. Some of it has been restored, but most of it is being reclaimed by the desert as the dunes shift in the winds.

It was the Namib Desert that drew us to Namibia. And though a couple of writing assignments and that awesome internet are helping to hold us here, exploring the desert—and watching it shift through the day are huge rewards. If you’ve seen the most recent Mad Max you have an idea of where we are; a vast desert that stretches inland from the Atlantic, where you can cross the driest dunes and still make it home in time for the freshest seafood.

Easy Sailing to Namibia

Charlie the cat and I are snuggled in blankets watching the sunrise about 250 miles into our passage to Namibia. At 400 miles this will be the shortest stretch across the Atlantic (the biggie at 2400 miles will be Ascension to Suriname.)

This is also the chilliest; the water temperature in the Benguela current drops as low as 11c. We've pulled out our fleece and are bundled up for night watch. I'm grateful for our excellent visibility through our big cabin windows; this means that other than regular 360 sweeps of the horizon we spend watches inside with the cat. Its still 'Milo weather', even indoors, as an Aussie friend phrased it, but the days are so toasty we're not quite ready to commission the heater.

Waiting for our lost part meant our final days in Port Owen were easy and peaceful. It was actually a good way to start the passage. The past month was such a rush to get going, but sitting back we realize our only real deadline is the Panama Canal in October. There are a lot of unknowns between now and then; from countries we'll visit to friends we'll make.

It truly is a whole new voyage.

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Around the World for a Haul Out

The best moments of cruising have always occurred when we’re in an isolated anchorage surrounded by clear blue water that’s bubbling with fish and life. The best things don’t happen in a boatyard.

Boat chores are the price we pay for this life though. Boats wear quickly in the tropics, and even faster when you live aboard and push them across oceans. By the time we hit South Africa we had a long list of things needing done. The last item on the list was the haul out—to paint the bottom and build new bearings for the rudders to solve the kick-up problem.

There are a variety of boat yards in South Africa—but we rejected most of them because we couldn’t fit in the travel lifts or because we’d be pulled out on our bridge deck. This left only two places we’d fit—both were expensive and wouldn’t allow us to live aboard while we did our work.

Then our friends on Evita came across little Port Owen. The little yard sounded ideal: The ten ton crane could accommodate us; it was affordable; Frank Stuyck, the manager, was responsive and helpful by email (which is rarer than you might imagine) and it was the last stop in South Africa—so our paint would be fresh for the Atlantic crossing.  www.portowenmarina.co.za

Flamingos in the wetlands of the river as we travel upstream

So we set off from Simon’s Town and rounded the Cape of Good Hope in perfect conditions. Our sail took into a wide bay then into the river at Port Owen, past fishing boats and flamingos, and to a dock where Frank surprised us by meeting us just before sunset on Sunday evening. A neighbour had called him when they saw us go by. So Frank came to tie us up and settle us in. He gave Evan a tour and a shower key for the yacht club, and promised to return in the morning—to rearrange the haul out schedule (we appeared unexpectedly after suddenly solving a stubborn engine problem and someone else was due to be hauled out rather than us).

Haulout by crane!

We were hauled out by a 10 Ton crane Monday morning, another first for us. While Alastair and his helper cleaned our hull—we were offered coffee (free muffins and coffee on Tuesday and Saturday mornings), office space and unlimited internet (kind of like crack for cruisers…) as well as mini golf and a loaner car. Dinner invitations at the yacht club followed, the haul out went as smoothly as any haul out ever has. When the courier lost a part we were waiting on, Frank took it upon himself to hunt it down—making hours of phone calls and always making us feel as welcome as a friend.

Amy from "Morning Glory" offers moral support as Evan begins painting

None of this may sound as spectacular as swimming with sharks or finding a lemur in the wild. But if cruising has taught us anything it’s that the world is filled with unfathomable kindness. We’ve been invited into homes, fed meals, been toured through towns and villages. We’ve been given gifts and shown beautiful sights. We’ve held babies and heard secret dreams. We’ve made friends of strangers.

We didn’t set off to sail the world to find goodness in a boat yard—but that’s what we found. And why we travel.

Frank's son, Jean-Paul, owns a local winery - and gave us a gift of some of his wines!

Cape Town Love--Atlantic Ocean Prep

On top of Table Mountain

 

Somehow two months has passed since we first arrived in Simons Town. Like any city-stop our time here has felt less like cruising and more like real life—whatever that may mean. Most of our hours have been spent immersed in projects and the conversations during our daily sundowners at the yacht club have tended to revolve around where to find mechanics and spare parts rather than locations for good hikes and snorkel spots. We did manage to get some fun in—it’s impossible not to take advantage of some of what this gorgeous city has on offer. Really, two months here is not nearly enough.

Sailing past the Cape of Good Hope

Boat Chores

Before crossing any ocean (and after crossing one as exciting as the Indian Ocean) there’s a lot to be done. Our list grew when we discovered Cape Town is an incredible place to get anything boat-related done; the prices are affordable and the quality of work tends to be quite good. Our work list was long (this is just a sample) but as our days are winding down we’re feeling good about our next leg:

·         Injection pump rebuild—the engine has been leaking diesel for the past few months and after exhausting all other options, it turned out the injection pump was the culprit and Briegel Motors did the rebuild. While Evan had the engine pulled apart it got lots of TLC with new hoses, a radiator clean and a few other goodies.

·         Sail repair—all our sails got a good once over and the genoa went into Ullman sails for a new suncover and some stitching repairs.

·         Dinghy retubing—our dinghy tubes took a beating in Chagos while hauling up and down anchors over and over to kedge off the boat that went aground (should have had a cover). In two wide patches the Hypalon was almost worn away and we were more of a deflatable. Wildcat dinghies retubed us for <$500.

·         New flooring—we’ve never liked the flooring we put down and found industrial sheet flooring to replace it with. The colour runs all the way through so stains can be sanded out and it was easy to install.

·         New life lines—we have spectra lifelines and discovered the end of roll bin at Southern Ropes. No more needs to be said.

·         Spinnaker sheets—see above about Southern Ropes.

·         New kitchen faucet—our faucet broke in Comoros and we’ve been on the hunt for a low faucet with a pull out sprayer. It took a while but On Tap, came through.

·         Haul out—we’ll write about our amazing experience at Port Owen separately but that’s where we are now. The hull is painted and the rudders have spiffy new bearings which should solve the mid-ocean kick-up issue forever.

Coming out by crane in Port Owen

Fun, fun, fun

Fun with friends at the Farmhouse concerts

You can’t come to Cape Town without enjoying some of what this incredible city has to offer. Rather than itemizing all we did I’ll just include a few happy photos for now (we’re back in the water soon and we’ll run out of internet). Next stop is Namibia. Watch for a post about our plans from there.

a cute dassie on Table Mountain

gorgeous Simons Town

The Jackass penguins in Simon's Town

Wine tasting-mmmm

St James--just down the road from Simons Town

Exploring Stellenboch with our fabulous driver

Yanmar 3GM30F Fuel Injection Pump removal - a boring technical post

Because I had a bit trouble with this job, I thought I'd write up all the steps required to pull the Fuel Injection Pump. It's also a useful reference if I ever have to do it again!

1.                  Remove air filter and cover. This uses 2 over-center clamps

2.                  Remove air filter base plate from intake manifold (3 bolts, 10mm socket)

(this step is to make removal of the aft most fuel injector fuel line possible)

3.                  Remove alternator from bracket and set aside. Leave wires connected. I figure most people reading this can find the alternator.

4.                  Remove the cooling water high temp switch wire (unscrew the ring terminal from sender at front of thermostat housing, on top of fresh water pump, on top of front of engine)

5.                  Yanmar seems to have made this engine first as a sea water cooled engine, so this step wasn't required because the engine didn't have a fresh water pump. Otherwise why make it so hard to remove the injection pump without removing the fresh water pump?

The fresh water cooling system will leak water all over the engine, so drain the fresh water system using the small valves at the aft end of the heat exchanger near the exhaust elbow and on the side of the block.

            Anyway, remove the fresh water pump. There are 3 hoses connecting the fresh water pump so loosen the hose clamps for each of these. (If these hoses are old and swollen, consider replacing them as preventative maintenance.) There are 4 bolts, 12mm wrench holding the pump in place. Do not loosen the smaller 10mm head bolt. These bolts are behind the water pump pulley so you cannot use a socket wrench and you will only loosen the bolts, not remove them.

6.                  Remove throttle lever nut and remove throttle lever (where the throttle cable connects). 12mm socket. But do not disconnect the throttle cable from lever.

7.                  Remove the small access plate from stbd. side of injection pump (right in front of the throttle lever). (3 bolts, 10mm socket). This will also remove the throttle stop screw on a separate plate marked in red.

8.                  Remove the fuel line connecting the engine mounted fuel filter to the injection pump (14mm wrench). There is an additional engine mounted bracket that requires removal (12mm socket) on my engine. Yanmar parts books shows several different types of fuel lines so just remove the one supplying the injection pump.

9.                  Getting closer now. Wipe up any dirt or debris around the fuel injection pump. Remove the 3 high pressure fuel lines from the pump and the fuel injectors. Loosen the forward most cylinder line / forward most connection on the pump and then proceed aft in turn. Use a 17mm wrench.

10.              After all high pressure lines are loose, remove the two clamp fittings (shown in blue above) holding the lines together and to the engine (10mm socket, 4 bolts total)

11.              Loosen the nuts holding the fuel injector pump to the engine block. The pump will be loose but still held in place.12mm socket with extension. You might need to break the seal between pump and mounting flange by prying gently with a screwdriver at first.

12.              Put a finger into the side access hole you uncovered in step 7. Feel for the throttle lever that pulls the fuel injection pump rack pin forward and back. You need to slide that lever backward or forward until it pulls free of the rack pin as you lift the pump slightly.

Now lift the pump while moving the rack pin forward or aft. There is a opening in the mounting flange shown on left picture below that the pin needs to pass through. Pull the pump up while simultaneously moving the pin forward and aft and the pump should come free. You do not need to force the pump if it is free of the flange. I repeat - don't force the pump. If comes free very easily if you have the rack pin lined up with the notch in the flange.

13.            Do not lose the thin shims between the pump and mounting flange. You will need these for reinstallation. Mine had 3 shims.

            When reinstalling the injection pump Yanmar specifies “Screw Lock Super 203M” between the shims. I think it’s pretty close to a blue Loctite 242 so that’s what I used. Remember that the thickness of these is critical to injection timing – so don’t use a thick silicone gasket sealer when re-installing. The governor case below is only splash lubricated with lubricating oil so it won’t take much to seal the pump to the mounting flange.

- Evan

It's really windy here

It's very windy in Simonstown. Here's a snapshot of the past 7 days of wind speeds. These are in km/h so divide by slightly less than 2 to get knots. i.e. 74 km/h = 40 knots. 37 km/h = 20 knots

This weather station is at a lighthouse slightly more than 1 mile from us. It's actually a bit windier in the marina due to some wind funneling affects. We had a day a few days ago where 40 knots was considered a lull. As in "It's lulling 40!", instead of our more usual "it's gusting 25...".

For sailors approaching False Bay, here's the real time link, though sometimes it goes down:

http://www.cfoo.co.za/buoys/buoy_rt.php?buoyID=7

We found the wind acceleration effects started right on the eastern side of False Bay, getting stronger as we approached Simonstown. Earlier in the day we were sailing with 10 knots and as we got into Simonstown it was hitting 25.

Another weather station in case the above one is not working:

This one is from Fish Hoek (a town about 4 miles away from us, on the same side of False Bay).

http://www.fhbsc.co.za/fhbsc/weather/index.html 

 -Evan

Friendship in a Bottle

 

As far as a letter of introduction goes, I’m going to call Maia’s letter to Sara and Stof the most unique. Just over four years ago, on November 3, 2011 actually, Maia threw a bottle over the side when we were in the Grand Passage near New Caledonia. Specifically we were at 18° 39’S 163° 09’E.

Despite this accuracy of detail, none of us remembers the moment the bottle went in. I recall Maia suggesting we have wine—and reminding her that we rarely imbibe while on passage. In the end we found an empty wine bottle, she scrawled a message in green ink and over it went. The bottle then travelled against the current and washed up on remote Huon Reef where Sara, Stof and their friend Dave found it on the beach when they stopped in for repairs three weeks later. Happily Maia’s letter-in-a-bottle skills are well developed and she gave her contact information. A month or so later the email arrived from the crew of Takalani.

Huon Reef--Sara and Stof's photo

Takalani and Ceilydh almost met multiple times crossing the Pacific. We sailed from Mexico within a few days of each other and crossed wakes and swapped anchorages (ending up with many common friends (Graham)). We both even went solo into the remote northern parts of Vanuatu—both thinking we were the last boat left and that it was time to turn west.

A nice note saying they found the bottle is where it may have ended. But several months ago we got another note—Sara reminded us who she was and told us that she and Stof were back living in Cape Town with two adorable new crew, and would we like to meet? So we joined them in their home so they could meet Maia, return her letter (even Dave was there) and of course, have a braai.

Next up was a fantastic day (01-16-16) spent swimming 16 of the (very cold and colder) tidal swimming pools around Cape Town for Sara’s b-day, followed by a braai.

Meeting local people is one of the best parts of the cruising life. The first time we went sailing we carried a stack of hand written letters introducing us to people around the world (it was pre-easy internet). The letters were like something out of Downton Abbey—each a request to the recipient that they give the bearer (us!) every possible assistance.

These days, the letters of introduction are a bit more casual and come through facebook, friends, family or our blog. South Africa has been remarkably rich with wonderful introductions. There was one introduction which resulted in a curry lunch at the Oyster Box hotel, another ‘friend-of-a-friend’ has graciously ensured we have someone to call on in every port we visit. A South African sailing friend we first met back in our Annapolis days (now in BC) gave us an entire list of names and we hope a meeting won’t be too far in the future.

 We were also lucky enough to share in another boat’s family introduction to the very lovely Shaun Visser, Tania & Lynette. We had one afternoon of so much laughter and fun my stomached ached afterward. This was followed by an incredibly warm welcome to a ‘traditional’ Christmas dinner complete with Mother Christmas and lamb on the braai ( Photos and great post by Neil and Ley on Crystal Blues).

Our next fantastic meeting came a few days later when we arrived in Port Elizabeth. Neither Maria nor I can recall when we started writing to each other (we’re both writers, with daughters near the same age called Maia/Maya and they are planning to head off sailing) but we’ve been planning to meet them ever since South Africa went on our agenda for the year.

It almost didn’t happen when a weather window opened up, which was going to take us through to Simons Town, meant we’d speed on by. But cue the well-timed rudder problems—which we would never have recovered from in < 24 hours without Maria and Mike’s fantastic local knowledge (and the fact they have some crazy good connections). The outcome was a total stranger drove to East London, talked his way into a closed workshop and repaired our rudder fittings.

The next hop took us to Maria, Mike, Maya and Murry and a fantastic braai (seriously, no South African encounter can happen without one--which we love), a great New Year’s Eve and we even squeezed in a visit to the stunning Addo Elephant Park.

The good news is we’ve been socializing a lot and now have a very healthy stack of bottles saved up. Maia’s next task is to start writing more letters. I think tossing a bottle or two off the Cape of Good Hope is the way to go.

Breaking stuff - for fun

I noticed some chafe on one of our spectra (dyneema) lifelines. This spot is at the forward most stanchion, where I was in the habit of clipping a spinnaker halyard. Its also where the lifeline makes a sharp angle down to the deck. This photo shows the new lifeline place. The chafe was very obvious on the old one.

Here's the chafe point - clearly a lot of the strands are broken:

Once I replaced the lifeline with a new piece of spectra, I decided to do a bit of semi-scientific testing of the old lifeline. I broke it. I attached the eye splice to a deck padeye with a spectra lashing and then led the lifeline to our primary winch.

It took about 90% of my maximum effort to get the lifeline to break. In other words I really had to crank very hard. Our primary winch is a #46 power ratio. Typical maximum handle load using a single winch handle is around 50 lbs for a "strong" user. Using a double handle as I did, the maximum load might rise to 65 lbs or so. So the most force I can exert on the line is about 46 x 65 = 2990 lbs. The chafed portion broke at what felt like 90% of that or around 2700 lbs. That's low compared to a new wire lifeline.

Here it is after breaking:

But what about the non-chafed portion of the old lifeline? I tied a bowline in the end, and loaded it as much as I could with the winch. I could hit a pretty good musical note with it. But I couldn't break it. So the load on the line was around 3000 lbs. The bowline is supposed to reduce the breaking strength of single braid spectra around 50%*. So the unknotted portion of this used rope probably has a strength of >6000 lbs. Approximately. Anybody with a small load cell that they want to send us?

I think these old lifelines were Samson Amsteel 60 grade. They are 1/4" diameter with an average breaking strength of 7400 lbs and minimum breaking strength of 6500 lbs. So I think that these lifelines, after 7.5 years, mostly in tropical UV conditions, were still close to the original minimum breaking strength, and still quite stronger than typical vinyl covered stainless steel wire lifelines. New vinyl covered stainless steel wire lifelines with a 3/16" core have a breaking strength of about 3700 lbs.

In summary, older spectra lifelines are still showing adequate strength, after several years of use. Here is the lower lifeline, aged 7.5 years. I adjusted the lashing to check for chafe. The left side of the lifeline is the portion that used to be inside the stanchion. It shows a small amount of chafe.

- Evan

*Evans Starzinger found that bowlines in regular polyester double braid only reduce the strength of the line by ~25%  http://www.bethandevans.com/load.htm. He found that bowlines would slip in single braid spectra at around 50% of breaking strength but I was using well worn rope and the rope didn't slip. Other bowline like knots such as the water bowline had a strength loss >50%. So assuming a non-slipping bowline reduces strength by 50% seems to be a reasonable and conservative assumption.
He also has some data that 8mm spectra can suffer uv damage resulting in strength loss of between 30 and 60% after 5 years and suggests that typical strength loss is somewhere in between these extremes.