Copyright (c) Marc Dacey/Dark Star Media 2006-2020. Above photo (c) Marc Dacey. Powered by Blogger.
Showing posts with label Solar and wind power. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Solar and wind power. Show all posts

2020-10-08

Catching up and not coughing

Not a bad moon rising across from the National Yacht Club back in June.
Well, that was a rather significant pause in new posts. It's October 8, 2020 at time of writing and we started sailing on our voyage of discovery, COVID-19 and repair around July 15. The prep for leaving was retarded by the sense that, once the St. Lawrence Seaway had opened in late June, that we should prudently stand by for a couple of  weeks to see if the dreaded "second wave" manifested. Alas, that didn't happen until we were in the Atlantic Bubble, but I digress. Digression will follow, trust me.
The end of June saw our boat club launch, finally, and our return to our dock instead of the convenient seawall
The weather improved sufficiently to get multiple small jobs done and to plan out where I wanted to take this "repair and refit" blog in light of plans to debut a new, more voyage-focused blog. Now, given the axiom of cruising as "boat repair in exotic places", this does not mean the retirement of this elder blog, but I will be posting more rarely and with a goal of showing what actually living aboard takes out of a boat and how to order the necessary labour effectively to continue moving and remaining functional...and what you can safely leave for winter.
Rooms with views and a mission attic probably aren't great for restoration purposes
Speaking of living aboard, the vagaries of Toronto real estate were revealed, and I mean revealed, in our former house and its mate on the other side of the firewall. The person who bought first our side and then the other obviously has plans, likely of the "fashionable restaurant" variety, but leaving the roof off and the back exposed to the weather for months at a stretch seems counter-intuitive. Luckily, I am more utilitarian than sentimental on subjects like real estate, but it seems a little wasteful. But then I lack the nous of developers.
 
Two Honda 2200s, for when you really need 27 amps of AC and there's no shore power.
 
Back at the lived-aboard, we were testing various systems for soundness. The Honda gensets worked like champs, and, now in our Nova Scotia winter digs, we've got one ashore in case of a power outage over the winter (a distinct possibility, we've been told, as is the need to bring in rum and storm chips).The other Honda is staying with the boat so we can have power at the boatyard to which we are going tomorrow morning...in case power goes out there...
And it was moving steadily to the SE. GOOD JOB, BOYS!
Meanwhile, back in June/July before we left, we had time to observe the state of marine expertise far from the ocean. This is a warning buoy to delineate the crumbling end of the seawall. Note that it isn't actually at the crumbling end. We saw the City of Toronto workboat (or a subcontractor) screw around more than once getting this nav aid in place correctly and watched them leave bow paint on another part of the seawall on a dead calm morning. The further east we've subsequently gone, the greater the level of seamanship we've observed.
Yeesh.
Solstice 2020, observed with a measure of social isolation, and a measure of rum.
Huzzah! Sumer is icumen in!
Meanwhile, living aboard at a COVID-affected boat club meant we were left largely to our own devices until the launch process happened. Mrs. Alchemy and myself have enjoyed for many years "kicking off summer" by watching the sun rise after the shortest night of the year. This year, despite daunting circumstances and no guarantee we would dare to leave, was no exception.

In the meantime, boat life continued. We got to see a lot of these sights...

A cliche need not be ugly.

...and a mother canvasback and her brood of curious offspring were a feature of morning coffee on the aft deck...
Once there were eight, but my biologist wife suggested five was fine parenting.
The watermaker can't be really started in fresh water. This is no longer a problem.

Boat jobs accomplished included a partial installation of the watermaker, mainly to get it out of the portside seaberth. These RO tubes went over the port water tanks and the rest of the pieces, which are modular, will go starboard side.
Brown feet are inevitable in this lifestyle.

The liftraft, which I didn't like on the starboard aft deck rail for reasons of scraping while docking and the weight of the thing, went snugly on the cabin top a little in front of the mast and between the saloon hatches. This I greatly preferred.

The drogue was repacked and stowed at the aft end of the sailing helm footwell, bagged against UV. It could work on the aft bollards, but the goal is to install chainplates on the stern this winter and then never use it!
Nephew No. 2 Ryan Dacey

Goodbyes were made and signals hoisted...
Thank you, everyone who helped us begin the voyage
...and we were off! And I finally got the solar panels tied into the batteries. Behold, free amps!









2020-06-06

Absolutely floored

The Lonseal was very carefully cut by Mrs. Alchemy based on paper templates and You Tube tutorials.
As mentioned last post, the good ship Alchemy came with many desirable features, but nice flooring was not one of them. So we decided if time allowed, we would "refloor" in Halifax over the winter. Well, time allowed and, thanks to the pandemic, it very much has, we determined to do the job this spring, prior to leaving.

The Lonseal product is not cheap, but it looks very nice and has a reasonable quality of non-skid (non-skiddiness?) desirable on a sailboat. In other words, given a decent shoe, you can stand without slipping on a fairly vigorous angle of heel. It is applied to wood or metal decking with a two-part epoxy. Once on, it's unlikely to come off.

Which brings us to the prep. The saloon was done first, which involved a prepatory sanding and cleanup of the existing subfloor, which is 3/4" thick marine plywood screwed to framing, which in turn is through-bolted to the frames and stringers, and in some places, such as the area above the forward diesel keel tank housing the 350 kilos of batteries, has been reinforced by me, because 55 kilo batteries stoving in the top of a keel tank at sea is considered undesirable.



The previous floor covering was green indoor/outdoor carpet in the saloon and the floor was held down with coarse drywall screws. The latter would surely rust in the sea air and were replaced with slightly longer (1 1/2 inch), slightly larger (#10) silicon bronze screws, which are far less likely to corrode in place and are often used in wooden boat building. So all that took time to prep.

The template cutting, which involved both cutting out multiple hatch covers and matching the "holly" lines neatly, also took a lot of work, all credit to the missus, who did a fine job and now we can have people over without cringing, mostly. Where I came in was in the pilothouse.


You've seen these two photos before, but they bear repeating. To the left is prepped metal, to the right is flap-disked and Ospho'd metal.
The former flooring was, in sum, metal decking over which odd, wide-headed self-tapping screws held down a quarter-inch of cedar ply, over which was glued a further one-eighth inch of cedar ply, over which was a sort of vinyl parquet pattern substance, also glued.

Friends, to use sailor talk, it was a fucking mess. Parts of the floor were rotten, other parts were heavily worn, and there was evidence of mold in the wood. I took it up with a combination of prybars and a Multimaster knock-off that is about the best $99 I may have ever spent...it's so reliable and useful in the more nasty jobs like this that I buy it actual Fein blades at great cost. But they work and they fit. Were I using this tool everyday, I would pay four times as much for the real thing, which appear indestructable.
The self-tapping weird metal screws were, of course, rusted in place, so I had to grind off about 60 of them. Makeshift curtains and rounds of vacuuming were made to keep the grit thereby made airborne out of the rest of the boat. The helm seat, which, as one might imagine, I installed particularly strongly, was unbolted, cleaned up and reinstalled. Acetone wipes, metal prep and protective paints were applied and there was much dryfitting upon the face of the waters.
Looks nice, doesn't it? There a massive hatch in this picture.
But the results were worth all the odd smells, tiptoing around while things "set up" and labour and dollars expended. The boat is cleaner, safer and looks markedly better. We'll do the aft cabin floor, which is tiny, after we get to Nova Scotia, which looks like it's going to happen, fingers crossed, as the Seaway locks open to pleasure craft June 22. We will pause to see if a pandemic "second wave" happens that could affect marinas or our passage materially, so early July is our new "go date".

Held together and to the countertop with countersunk #12 SS screws, it's not likely to move.
But back to further improvements: My wife has remarked on the disagreeable habit of the galley sinks not completely draining even at zero heel. While nothing short of a grey water tank with separate pump out could solve all of that, the simple addition of a two-inch HDPE sink surround has now raised the two galley sinks enough to permit full drainage, even if I can't take a decent picture of it.

Rubber strips glued to the underside of the wind generator pole should provide a bit of cushioning and, we hope, sound deadening.
I designed a simple base for a wind generator pole that fabricator pal Andrew Barlow knocked off in stainless steel with his customary skill. Before the wind generator is mounted, however, I have to make it more stable with struts at the rearmost solar arch and at the stern rail. I'm thinking Kee Klamps, but my friend Dean Muto is an actual rigger and I will see if he thinks that's a good idea.

Pipe goes over this well-bolted stub and is cross-pinned. Wind generator is collared to the top of the pole and clears the adjacent panel by about 15 cm.
 So we've got a few more projects to go, but arguably five weeks to get them done in, which will include "family docking in cross-winds" lessons, anchoring setting and retrieval practice, and the relocation of both the liftraft from rail to foredeck and the mounting of the nesting dinghy ... somewhere...Enjoy last night's brush with a squall!
This one had little rain, but over 30 knots of wind, always fun on the nose tied to a wall.
But we got a rainbow in the boatyard, which was nice.




2020-04-22

Earthed, wind and fire

Close, but not quite. Annoying, this.
This is a replacement solar panel for the one that fell off the boat a couple of winters ago. It's from the same maker, Kyocera, and it is the same form factor as the other three, but the flange to which the "rivnuts" (or "swage nuts", the terminology seems inexact) are mounted is about one-half inch more narrow than the older panels. The panel is otherwise identical, save that it delivers at peak output five more watts. Of course, the custom-built solar arch has hard-to-drill 1/8" stainless steel mounting tabs welded to the pipes, so I have been presented with a dilemma.
The old bits of tape were used to indicate where the two backstays transit through the arch.
Luckily, the man who is doing other fabrication jobs aboard, was aboard, and suggested we secure the outboard side with rivnuts as planned, and simply make up an aluminum 1/4" thick "tab on a tab" throughbolted to the existing stainless, and then rivnutted (that doesn't look right) from aluminum tab to aluminum frame. Pretty sure I can handle that job, and the galvanic isolation it probably wants doing.

There can be many versions, and I left a phone message today with a couple of further refinement suggestions.
Andrew was visiting the boat for an "as social as possible under the circumstances" reason, as well as further discussion on the fabrication of a pole for the Air-X wind generator I am finally installing to complete our renewable energy scheme, at least from the "watt creating" side.

You don't have to put out the red light...
Speaking of wind, I installed a Caframo "Maestro" 12 VDC fan in the galley. This involved drilling, wire-stripping, crimping, heat-shrinking and circuit-chasing, this time in the galley's DC subpanel. The fan has a bright white LED and a dim, red one, good for evenings, and its speed is controlled by a simple rheostat that clicks off.
I put in a little rocker switch, seen to the left of the pair of wires. The mounting plate of the propane sensor with necessary 3/4" hole for the mass of its leads is below.
Unfortunately, the rheostat appears cacked...it worked on the test run, in which I provisionally wire together the circuit to check for flaws before I dog down everything and drill multiple holes, and the light switch works fine, but it's "always on full" when attached to the terminal strips. I mean, I could turn it off, along with all the cabin lights forward, from the main DC panel, but that's just awkward. So I put in a little rocker switch from A1 Electronics on North Queen (25 cents, probably) and it works fine now. Still full on, but now with added off.
Yes, it works. I have a propane torch nearby for test purposes.
Mounting the new propane sniffer/alarm was a touch more involved as it required a hole through the cabinet (and cutting down some trim pieces and a hole through the bottom of the cabinet so that the sensor lead could go down to the front of the stove near foot level, where propane is likely to "flow" if we had a leak of it. Those wires will be cleaned up and mounted neatly later.

It's becoming a busy time. Eight days until it's home again.