Ship’s Log Week Five
Location: Atlantic Ocean, 18°04’05.0”N, 41°83’79.2”W
When Saturday night became Sunday and a little bit of Tuesday, too…
Last week’s update was brief, curtailed by the lack of power on board Walrus due to her engine failure. I ended with a note that future communications were unlikely for some time. Thankfully things have moved on since then.
On board Walrus, life is spent in a constant state of rocking and rolling, as Walrus rides the waves, sometimes surfing down the steep slope of a wave that’s coming from behind, at other times lurching to starboard (right) or port (left) to right herself after broaching a wave that’s coming on one side or other of her bow. Small tasks such as making a cup of tea, while keeping your balance, filling the kettle, getting it to sit between the fiddles (metal grips that keep it in place) while the cooker rocks back and forth on a gimbal, then, when the kettle has boiled, pouring the hot water directly into a mug, rather than over your hand or down the drain, are a feat and an exercise in a mix of dogged determination and problem-solving.
Daily living in Walrus’ small space, with the constant movement, and the focus on keeping her sailing consistently in the direction of our destination, St Lucia, some 2700 miles from our starting point in Las Palmas, is such that small celebrations and rituals are an important way of keeping track of time, maintaining a sense of momentum, team and progress.
We have a Walrus Saturday evening ritual, whether you’re on watch or not we keep Walrus in autohelm mode, check there are no other vessels around, sit down together for supper served around Walrus saloon wooden table and have a drink (it’s the only night of the week that Walrus isn’t a dry boat). Whatever your tipple within the limitations of Walrus saloon table supplies (i.e. whisky, gin or red wine) it is yours on Saturday evening.
Last Saturday we had enough technical challenges for a month of Tuesdays. The heads (loo) stopped functioning requiring a change of pumping device and the singularly unpleasant task of unblocking, blockages. In addition, the shower pump was blocked which meant all this was carried out with greyish water swilling around the floor area.
Then, the heart-stopping moment when Walrus’ engine failed to start and the implications of being in the middle of an ocean with the only means of propulsion being our sails sunk in. We rapidly sent messages and then switched off all functions that consumed power to conserve and keep to the basic minimum.
First thing to go was the autohelm (a heavy consumer of power). We instated a revised watch system of one hour hand steering and three off. The lights were switched off (navigation lights which show where Walrus is at night) and inside the cabin, as much as possible. We quickly established that, without the water-maker, another heavy consumer of power, we could get by with judicious use of the supplies on board and a switch to saltwater for washing up, washing etc. The AIS system was also switched off, which meant a particular vigilant eye needed to be kept out for possible on-coming ships during night watches.
At this point, Saturday evening was cancelled and a glum silence descended, followed by a period of determined activity focused on getting to the bottom of the issues.
Supper was a quiet affair, eaten on the hoof, out of ‘dog bowls’ while all focused on managing the situation and their feelings about the circumstances we found ourselves in. We debated and dismissed the idea of diverting 100 miles and calling in at the Cape Verde islands. We agreed that, while the circumstances were difficult and not without risk, in the round we weren’t in danger. Proceeding while trying to get to the bottom of the issue with the engine was the way forward.
With this resolved, 24hrs of one-hour hand steering watches under our belt, the heads unblocked, shower pump fixed and some hypotheses about the likely cause and possible fixes for the engine emerging Saturday evening became Sunday, and we settled in for a few hours of food, a drink or two and talk of plans for the next few days.
Thank you to those who made contact with good wishes or words of advice, during this time. A special thanks to Kevin (Kent Marine) for regular feedback and advice about the engine, without this help we would have floundered for much longer.
After much emptying of toolboxes and a few false starts over Monday and Tuesday, including hitting the thermostat rather than the solenoid hard with a hammer, we had made little progress and were resigned to hand-steering all the way to St Lucia.
With a quick burst of Starlink (heavy user of power) and further advice from Kevin, the focus changed to the starter motor. After much humming and hawing about how to get the cover off of the area where the engine starting switch is housed, behind Walrus steering wheel – whether it was held on by bolts or screws? Whether giving it a jiggle and a jog would do the trick? Or whether another tool, that we didn’t have on board was needed? Finally, the casing was removed, and Gerald started to tackle the mass of wiring behind the fascia. It became evident that two wires were worn away or damaged and that this was the likely cause of the failure of Walrus’ engine. Not long after – there was a triumphant and reassuring, growl of the engine turning over and starting. Gerald’s reward a beer at lunchtime and over supper… as Saturday evening extended to Tuesday (under exceptional circumstances).
What a sense of relief… we’re back in water (the watermaker has been switched on) and 2hr 30 min watches – using autohelm (never to be taken for granted again) and only the occasional hand-steering. We are keeping a much closer eye on our use of electricity in case of future issues.
The week has ended on a high and return to normality. We’re on track for arrival in St Lucia on Christmas eve, if Walrus keeps up her current speed. We’re currently making about 150 miles a day with a poled-out foresail.
Roll on starry night watches and a good following wind.