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Monday 18 August 2014

The Water Heater, Part 1: The Extrication



The Engine Room (L to R: Starboard Engine, Gen-Set, Port Engine)
When the Mary Mary was put together some 35 years ago, although attention to detail during the construction was correct to an obsession, scant provision was made for the inevitable day that certain objects would need to be replaced. Such an object is The Water Heater. (Sometimes redundantly referred to as the Hot Water Heater, as Brooke is fond of pointing out.) The Water Heater on board the Mary Mary is (was) located between the starboard engine and the hull. A region known to us on board as Hell’s Rhomboid. There is no room to do anything. Certainly not to swing a cat. Although if I thought Mr. Huxley could learn to do mechanical jobs, I might swing her down there. But no, this claustrophobic den is the sole domain of Brooke, the ship’s bosun who, small enough to gain access, is only one wrong move away from certain sprain.

Struggling with the electrics in Hell's Rhomboid
Last year, early in the season, it came to be that The Water Heater failed and upon investigation it was discovered that the internal heating element had corroded to the point of uselessness. (Damn things, every 35 years you need to replace them!) We found, fortunately, that they are fairly universal and after a quick stop at Can Tire we acquired the necessary part, replaced it and were on our way with even hotter water than we had before. Luxuriating in steaming water for showers and washing up, we relaxed into a state of ignorance regarding ‘ol Heaty, confident that it would go on for another 35 years. But, of course, such was not to be.

On August 11, after steaming from anchorage to port we heard a gushing sound coming from the engine room and discovered that The Water Heater had ruptured and emptied the entire remaining contents of the fresh water reservoirs into the bilge and hence out into the bay. We hoped initially that it was just a burst pipe; easily dealt with. But further observation revealed that the tank itself had burst. There was nothing for it now. It would have to be replaced. This would be a two-step process; remove the old unit and install a new one. Sounds easy enough, I suppose, but as mentioned before, access is an issue. (As the actress said to the Bishop.)

Thus we began phase one of the saga of The Water Heater… Extrication.

This involved several steps:
  1. Re-route the heat-exchanger hoses. (This was necessary as the coolant that flowed in these hoses from the engine would spill out once they were disconnected from the Water Heater. Also, we wanted to be able to run that engine until the new unit was installed.)
  2. Cut off the cold water flow.
  3. Undo the electrical connections and remove the wiring
  4. Remove the heat exchanger hoses from the unit. (These allow hot water from the engines to heat water in the tank while underway.)
  5. Remove the cold water inflow pipe and the hot water outflow pipes. (These we had jury-rigged a few years ago while replacing certain plumbing)
  6. Undo the retaining screws on the mounts.
  7. Remove the unit.
  8. Ingest pain relievers.

To accomplish step 1 we decided to purchase a short piece of auto heater hose and run it from the pet-cock outlet on the port side of the engine where the outflow to the exchanger was located to the return T-joint closer to the engine’s expansion tank. This was not terribly difficult in theory but of course, the pipes being full of coolant, the moment I disconnected the first hose it started to spew out old, smelly coolant onto my feet. (I admit, that I have been remiss in flushing the old coolant out of the engine on a regular basis so it was particularly stale.) We mopped that up after Bosun Brooke stopped laughing, and having learned our lesson, teamed up to make the necessary quick change-over of the hoses and the job was done. I started the engine and let it come to running temperature to ensure that we had made the connections properly and that the hose was not going to burst and cause further mayhem. Everything seemed good but now, of course, the engine room was steamy so we had to wait a while for it to all cool down. This called for libation.

Eventually it was time to proceed to step 3. Brooke removed the face plate from the Heater by leaning over the still-warm engine. Then, putting on her brave face, into Hell’s Rhomboid she dropped, or rather, burrowed, bended and squirreled. There was a groan, followed by a couple of sharp intakes of breath and what sounded like the crunching of a femur. Finally she was in place. The electrical elements, although relatively simple to remove, were encased in rust and the screws difficult to turn. However, shortly there was a sigh of relief and the first elements were handed up to me, standing by with tools as needed. 

Next were the now-vented heat exchanger hoses. These we decided to just cut away as the new water heater would undoubtedly require different fittings. (This proved to be the case.) I handed down the short-handled knife-saw that we keep by for such occasions when we need to butcher pipe or hose or repel borders and, after some muttering of expletives, this was accomplished. 

Then the hot and cold water pipes were removed. Easy-peasy. The cold water intake pipe was the original pipe attached with a bronze fitting of a size that is extinct. The hot water piping had been replaced a few years ago by the Bosun, with red pex hose and sharkbite fittings.
The retaining screws holding the tank were next and, although as awkward to get at as everything else, soon these were up and out of the engine room and The Water Heater was unseated. 

Water Heater waiting admission to the Old Water Heater's Home
Now… perhaps the trickiest part. The Water Heater measured some 17.5“ in height and 18.5“ across. It is a round model type, very similar to the Raritan 1700 series, and our best guess was that it could be removed by laying it on its side and coaxing it around the front of the engine, over the house battery bank, onto the bilge covers and then up and out the hatch and the salon door. In order to do this we had to remove the raw-water engine hose, the throttle cable and two of the six house-batteries. Then Brooke wormed herself around the rear of the engine and over the generator starter battery in order to apply some leverage from the bottom of the heater. Meanwhile, I propped myself up on top of the remaining house batteries and after a couple of scrapes and curses and Brooke pushing from below finally managed to drag the unit, all 35 lbs. of it, into a position where I could drop it to the floor. 

We considered the next move and finally, straddling the cross-beams that support the engine room hatch covers, and again Brooke giving support from below, managed to lift the unit up into the salon using the cut-away hose mounts as handles. It was out. 


Upside-down view of 'Ol Heaty
When we got the unit out into the open we realized for the first time just how truly corroded and beat-up it really was. That it had lasted as long as it had was something of a miracle really. It was almost with a tear in my eye that I carted it away to the rear of the marina to await its transportation to the dump. An ignominious end to a truly heroic piece of machinery… Ah, it’s gone and good riddance.

The Water Heater - Subdued & Defeated
 NEXT: The Water Heater, Part 2: The Insertion

Friday 15 August 2014

Windy Wetty Coldy




Mr. Wind (Warning: Not as innocent as pictured) (Also, wind doesn`t actually come from clouds.)
Well, to be sure, it's not what we would be expecting, this cold, windy snap in the middle of August. Last weekend we were at anchor at Armer Bay enjoying sunny calm days of swimming and fishing and the like in temperatures around the 27 degree mark. This week, it's as if somebody tripped a switch. Or a breaker went on the electric panel of the local universe. In fact I am writing this right now down in the comfort of the stateroom because it is too cold to sit on the bridge in the late afternoon as we had planned. To be sure, the sun has come out at last but the temperature is still low and the wind is whistling around 20 km/hr. Hard to find anywhere on the boat that isn’t affected by it except inside.

Mister Huxley enjoying the view of Armer Bay
All week the temperatures have hovered around the 16 degree mark (occasionally dipping as low as 11 or 12) and it has rained pretty much consistently throughout those days. We have killed time (because we can’t leave the port) diddling about inside and cooking food. Brooke did lots of sewing on our door bug-screen. Perhaps one upside of the time spent is the plateful of homemade chocolate chip cookies that found their way on to the chart box.

All that's left of the homemade cookie pile
We had planned to go up to the anchorage at Elizabeth Island to visit with the Kehm’s today and tomorrow but the wind prohibits it. And tomorrow promises more rain and 30 km/hr. winds, so no-go then either.

Another good thing that came out of the non-boating time was the opportunity to take a drive up to Britt, Ontario to finalize arrangements with the Wright Marine people to haul us out for the winter. It is about 52 nautical miles from here and we will probably spend the last two weeks of September heading up to Byng Inlet wherein Britt lies. 

Wright's Marina, Britt
In a couple of days I head back to the city to record some animation and then again a week later. The drive, although 2.5 hrs. long, is becoming a bit more reasonable with practice. But, let’s face it; I’d rather not have to go at all. Hopefully, by the time I have returned, the weather will have turned and we can get back down to the Massassauga area to explore those bays that we haven’t been able to get to this year.

Did my first and only fishing of the summer last week at Armer… Caught a couple of bass. Now what to do with the remaining 20 imprisoned worms? I suspect they may be released on their own cognizance soon. Then they can return, via the underground railroad I suspect, to their homes and families. Joyous re-unions amid the wormy tears and hugs are the picture I shall carry with me in my mind as I pour them all out onto the grass at the end of the dock. Hopefully the gulls won’t have other ideas.

Feeding the fish