The Water Heater, Part 2: The Insertion

Ah, the day has finally arrived. After a month or so with no hot water, the new water heater is here. It shines and gleams on the galley counter awaiting insertion into its hidey-hole in the engine room. And the weight of the newly acquired 11 gallon, West Marine (made in Taiwan) unit is great. It took two people to get the old heater off the boat. This one I can carry myself with no problem. (Probably because it’s made of tin… very thin stainless steel actually.) To be sure, this unit is on the cheaper end of water heaters but reviews were adequate enough online to reassure. The higher end models were up to a couple of thousand dollars, so the decision was made to go cheaper this time. Watch this space for our own review next year and whether or not you can actually pay less and succeed.

The new, 11 gal. water heater ready to go

Getting the unit up and running will require the following steps:

• Secure the unit into place between the starboard engine and the hull. (This gives some concern as the unit has two mounts protruding from underneath that can’t be removed and replaced; one of which arrived out of the box bent.)
• Prepare new water pipe and attach same to the unit. (We will be replacing the old ‘tap’ style shutoff valve at the same time, so we will have to go through the usual difficulties when replacing plumbing in this Singapore-built boat with its whacky fittings sizes.
• Attach the electrics.
• Remove the old heater-hose from beneath the stringers and replace it with new, modern hose to run coolant from the engine to the unit’s heat exchanger for heating water while underway.
• Test the results.

The first part of the mission went well as the lighter weight made manipulating the thing much easier. The mounts didn’t turn out to be a problem but I still had to remove two of the 6-volt batteries from the house bank again. It didn’t take long to get it in its space from that point, with Brooke jostling it for position as I held it up. It sure looked nice and shiny in there. (Compared to the rusting bulk of the already forgotten tub that it was replacing…)

The unit in place

Unfortunately, because of space restrictions, the rest of the installation basically fell on the Bosun with me standing by to hand tools and wires and cutting pipe as required. After some discussion about to where to run all the new white PEX pipes, Brooke attached them with Sharkbite connectors and elbows. 

Tiny Brooke in a tiny place

The electrics were a bit of a puzzle as all three wires that extruded from the running tube were black with stranded copper wire. We had marked these as they had been on the old unit but now we were finding it hard to determine which the negative was and which the ground wire. The three wires were labelled 34, 01 and 02. It seemed fairly obvious that the 34 wire was the power and that was confirmed at the panel with the multi-meter. I found that there were several other 01 and 02 wires coming up in other places, servicing other appliances and lights and such. Best possible guess was that 01 was the negative and 02 was the ground. This proved to be the case. 

Attaching the electrics

With all the attachments in place and tools out of the hold, testing began. First we tested the plumbing by filling the tank, turning on the new valve and letting trapped air out of the lines. Success… No leaks. Or so it seemed at the time.

Having tested this we made the final commitment to turn on the hot water heater at the AC panel and after an impatient 20 minutes or so turned on the hot water tap and, lo, hot water came splashing out.

When we went back down to do one last inspection, Brooke found, disturbingly, that there was a water leak coming from under the unit; in exactly the same position that the leak had occurred in the old heater. Was there a gremlin down there poking holes in our heaters? Well, of course, this turned out to be co-incidence in the end and not, in fact, a gremlin. (I later found out that gremlins are entirely mythical. Which would explain the absolute failure of my homemade gremlin traps.)

This gremlin trap (upon which I based my own version) turned out to be a hoax.

There was a leak though. The hot water out connection was sending a steady stream of water down through the housing and through the electric panel! The unit was quickly turned off and the leaking connector fixed by undoing it, replacing the pipe thread sealant and replacing it with a robust turning of the wrench. No more leak.

Brooke's fine connecting job

Brooke was the first to experiment with the wonders of the new heater by having a shower. The ooh’s and ah’s emanating from the stateroom gave signal that the job had been completed successfully.

Next we turned our attention to the heat exchanger connection. We had made the decision to use new heater-hose instead of the continuing to rely on the now 35 year-old rigid pipes that came with the boat. Although the old pipe didn’t seem to be compromised too much, it seemed like the best idea. This we did with two, 6-foot lengths of pre-cut Goodyear heater-hose. Because the engine had half-inch outlets for these hoses and the new heater had 5/8” outlet/inlets, we had to use two different size hoses and join them up. I suspect that this wouldn’t be recommended but there was little choice really. At any rate all of our joints seem to be holding well; barb connectors with clamps. Then we connected the hoses to the engine with a jug standing by for spillage and a quick turn-over system that involved quickly removing the hose and covering the exposed outlet with a finger while sticking the hose into the spill jug. This we accomplished with a minimum of mess. After connecting the new hoses to the engine we topped off the coolant and, using the relief valve, bled the system of air.

Next we had to test the validity of our coolant hose connections. We started the starboard engine with fingers-crossed (the resulting mess from a faulty hose would be very ugly). It seemed to be holding well. We let the engine reach running temperature to be sure of the integrity of the hose and it passed off well. Later, after our next short journey, we found that the heat-exchanger was working well, too.

This was another case of finding that by using our knowledge of the boat and our experience (which is always increasing), that we could save a lot of money and get great satisfaction out of doing jobs like this ourselves; especially when the results are so palpable.

Happy 'cause we're clean... now let's go wash the cat!

"There are three things all wise men fear"

"There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in a storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.”

― Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear

Okay, Pat, I can add one to that... low water levels in Georgian Bay.

Sunday, May 26

We arrive back at Port Severn. Seven months of waiting and anticipating the spring launch and an answer to the question, “will we be able to escape the Severn River and enter Georgian Bay?” Historically low levels of water and nagging images of the water rushing out under the Highway 400 bridge (not to mention tales of  large boats coming downstream through the last lock, seeing the next 8 markers and quickly turning about) have periodically caused me sleepless nights. Oh, nasty creative imagination! I have played out every possible scenario over and over. In the best scenario we slip, unimpeded, through the channel and out into the bay and bump into a wooden chest containing hundreds of thousands of dollars. Other scenarios randomly involve being stopped dead on jagged rocks, being flung sideways in one of the eddies, losing power, having to motor backwards against the current and, of course, heart attack.

I have kept an almost daily watch on the water level graphs posted on the Canadian Hydrographic Service website and have been somewhat buoyed lately by an upward trend towards normalcy that seems to be happening. Heavy rains in the last while have helped there but questions to marina staff and others still are met with comments like “Gosh, you should be all right” and “most of the boats have made it through lately”. That latter comment is usually accompanied by no certain knowledge of the drafts of the boats that did make it. As the marina is closing early, we decide to drive over to Penetang (note: Penetang is interchangeable with Penetanguishene, a nicer sounding name, but much harder to type) where we have made arrangements for a slip for a week. Providing we make it through what I am now referring to as “The Gauntlet”.

At Hindson Marine, a large well-appointed marina at the bottom of the Penetang harbour, we notice a good-looking Grand Banks Europa and go over for a look. While there we speak to a couple with a large boat who are thinking about taking it up the Trent to Sparrow Lake someday soon. They have been in touch with ‘Cam’ one of the lock-masters at Lock 45 who tell them that the depth in ‘The Gauntlet’ is 47 inches. Well, isn’t that just exactly what we draw? Yes, it is friends.

Pretty Grand Banks Europa

There seems to be a common thread in the info that we’re getting and none of it is particularly encouraging.

We spend the night at the Kings Inn Motel in Midland. (For what it’s worth, if you’re looking for a bargain in that area, you can spend the night in a clean, well-equipped but small room there for about half of what you pay at the Best Western or Comfort Inn just up the street.) We have fish and chips at Captain Ken’s downtown (4 stars if you like f & c) and return to the motel for some restless sleeping.

Monday, May 27

Launch Day.

Despite the constant concern about the navigation to come, there is something inherently joyful in Launch Day that, temporarily at least, brings some relief to the stress of anticipating the next day.

The newly installed battery bank looks great (with its 6 x 6 volt batteries) and we have supposedly tripled our amp hours by it. The bimini that we bought last year is in place. The hull job we had done last year shines on and all looks well.

Shiny new battery bank (6 x 6 volt)

Time slows down now as we wait for the 2 pm launch. I am thinking about how we will have to navigate against the strong current into the slip that we have arranged for the night at the yard, but thankfully that is not to be the case as one of the marina staffs says we can stay right there at the slip next to the launch bay. We are grateful for this favour as maneuvering is a bit dicey when you haven’t had your hand on the wheel for the last half a year.

We don’t have much in the way of supplies so we decide to have some lunch at the Dam Grill in Port Severn. It is bright and sunny and we sit outside to best enjoy the surroundings. It is quite peaceful at the moment and a pint of Sapporo doesn’t hurt that notion.

Brooke notices that there are a couple of O.P.P. inside having lunch and we realize that the run-about docked at the restaurant (you can tie up there if you’re coming down the Trent, it’s just before you go into Lock 45) is in fact theirs. One of the two men turns out to be a conservation officer, so we question them about ‘The Gauntlet’. Here we get some of the best insight yet. On telling them our draft, the policeman says we should have no problem (there's that 'should' again) and the conservation guy backs this up. However, he says, owing to the heavy rains increasing the rate of flow from the lock, one of the green day markers is submerged and dances around just below the surface.

OPP boys spreading the 'Keep the beer for the anchorage' philosophy

We decide to get as close to ‘The Gauntlet’ by land as possible and have a look for ourselves. We had discussed the idea of launching the dinghy and taking a run down the channel, but decide against it because it is unlikely that our little 2.5 hp. motor would be able to bring us back against the current. We notice a large boat has approached the lock and it looks like he’s going to take a run at it. Perfect timing, we get to observe... We quickly drive over to a lane-way that approaches the point near ‘The Gauntlet’. There is a large, seemingly abandoned house on the property and we park in the long, uncut grass and climb over the rocks down to the bridge to watch the other boat.

When the boat, which looks to be some sort of Carver or Bayliner, perhaps 45’ in length, comes into a view, we are astounded by his rate of speed. At some points under the bridge the markers look to be only about 15 feet apart but this guy must be making 16 or 17 knots towards ‘The Gauntlet’! It’s like some sort of weird dream. High up in the plastic enshrouded fly-bridge a man in a baseball cap is bent intensely over the wheel. Behind him stands a woman, perhaps his wife, gripping a handrail. But crazier still, another man is sitting on the bow giving the captain hand signals as to which way to go!

Crazy Carver similar in size and speed to the one that ran 'The Gauntlet'

The boat swerves into the rapid flow and careens from one side of the channel to the other. Brooke, unable to help herself, calls out something like ‘slow down!’ more to herself than to them. They couldn’t possibly hear her over the roar of the engines echoing off the bridge walls. The boat swerves erratically and we realize that he doesn't see or know about the sunken, dancing green marker that right now looks more like a rock protruding occasionally from the water and sure enough the speeding boat runs to the off-channel side of it. (At this point on the waterway, red is on your starboard going downstream. Remember that, ye who venture forth.) He’s now almost out of the channel.

Whether by local knowledge or because the boat is planing high out of the water due to the high rate of speed, or just by sheer good luck, the boat speeds through ‘The Gauntlet’ successfully, spewing spray and wake everywhere. If they had hit something they would probably all be dead. Certainly the guy sitting on the bow would be. Incredible…

We catch our breath and return to the yard. I don’t know whether what we have just witnessed is making me feel better or worse. There’s no way I could ever convince myself to employ that captain’s strategy. ‘The Gauntlet’ seems even more daunting now somehow.

It is Brooke’s birthday tomorrow and amongst the logistical problems that I have had is the transportation of prezzies to the boat without giving too much away. Not to mention the cake that even now is languishing at the bottom of some bag in the steamy truck. It’s quite the challenge that we be embarking on, on Brooke’s ‘special’ day.

The weather is beginning to be a bit of an enemy now as today seems to be the last solid day and a storm front is moving in tomorrow and then rain and moderately heavy winds.

Perfect.

Tuesday, May 28

The Gauntlet…

We awaken to find that the wind has shifted to SSE. This is exactly what we didn’t want as now the water could be driven north and west out of the bay, lowering the levels in ‘The Gauntlet’. The forecast is now calling for rain later in the day and a quick peek at the Environment Canada site shows all the lakes shaded the deep red of a ‘small craft warning’. This apparently because the winds are going to reach 20 knots + for the next couple of days with gusts up to 40 knots.

What to do? If we go now we have the greatest chance of having the necessary water levels but we might get caught out on the bay in heavier wind. If we wait we may have to do so for two or more days with no guarantee that things will improve after that. It would also mean that we would have to maneuver into a slip at Starport, tricky because of current issues.

I go up and talk to Sean Hickey, the marina manager and he walks down with us to view the water for himself. Sean is of the opinion that now would be as good a time as any to leave the river, so with that encouragement, we opt to shove off.

Now that the decision has been made, I feel much better and the well-oiled machine that is the crew of the Mary Mary swings into action. We drain all the water from the tanks (we discovered yesterday we can gain over an inch of draft this way), stow birthday presents and fire up the twins. They are purring and it is a welcome and comforting sound.

We shove off, sterning out into the basin and come about, headed for the small channel from the marina to the river. Brooke is filming from the bow (we'll post the video soon) as we nose out into the main channel and turn to port. There it is… The Gauntlet. The current seems to have picked up and I’m thinking it’s a good 4  or 5 knots, which means that in order to maintain steerage, I will have to be going faster than that.

We have been warned by most to err to the starboard (red) markers and keep up speed until we pass under the bridge. There is a small fishing boat in the shallows under the bridge and Brooke notices that one of the men in it has signaled downstream to an on-coming cruiser to wait while we run through. Nice fellow.

As we approach the first markers, you can see eddies swirling about in the shallow water and for a moment we are pushed to port. That passes however and then we are in the middle of it all. I can see the submerged green marker popping and bobbing in the flow and the gap between it and the nearest red marker seems extremely narrow to me, but as we approach and the current picks up, I realize that Brooke’s theory about the current helping us as much as hindering was right. We slip along with little yaw and a moment later are out under the bridge and approaching the upward-bound cruiser, who is drifting in the channel, being slowly pushed about by the steadily increasing wind. He waves as we pass and I silently wish him well going up as his boat is larger than ours by 5 feet or so.

We are through. The only thing to worry about now is getting to Penetang before the wind picks up too much and avoiding the pitfalls of the area known as the Mary Rocks. But that passage is well-marked and in a couple of hours we are motoring into Penetang harbour and docking at the Hindson Marina.

Hindson Marina

When, after the fact, you look back on things that worry you, they generally fall into two categories. Either you were right to worry and things turn out badly or you were right to worry but things turn out okay. For us, this time, it was the latter. I think, in boating, a certain amount of stress turns into preparedness with the right approach. Having said that, I’m glad that portion of the adventure is over. On to Georgian Bay…