Engine Problems, Fishing Lines and the Equator

From Jared:

Silence can be deafening. That sort of silence is the type we experienced two nights ago when the shaft driving our engine's water pumped failed raising the temperature of the engine way beyond operating range, forcing us to shut her down. Some people complain about the drone a diesel makes on the open water. I may be one of those types. When your bobbing like a cork virtually dead in the water several hundred miles from your next port with not a breath of air to be found, the imagined drone of that sweet Perkins sounds as sweet and comforting to me as Pavarotti singing "Ave Maria."

Opening the hatch to the engine room, Tom and Dad got busy. I lent as much a hand as I could, but I am just a little bit more mechanically inclined than the guy in the Gary Larson cartoon reading the instructions for a hammer (o.k. that's a little self-effacing and not accurate but you get the picture). I'm not in the same league when it comes to fixing things as the Cap and first mate, Tom. Work was to be done and the time was now. I've always admired those individuals who have enough know-how to get the job done and don't wear it as a badge of honor but rather pass it along in those teachable moments as surely their mentors did unto them. That's the Cap and first mate, Tom. I couldn't help but admire their cordial exchange of ideas, relentless effort, and their attitude that this too shall pass. Hours passed as the water pump was taken off, problem was realized, and a simple washer was found on the boat and drilled out to be used as a spacer to drive the shaft a little deeper into the housing to get it to bite and get that blessed cold water driven by the pump to cool the engine. A simple washer dug out of drawer (the only one to be found on the boat) and drilled out to be used a spacer is letting us steam forward to La Libertad. You have to hand it to true sailors and those crazy enough to take to the sea. Sooner or later everything breaks and self-reliance, self-control, and the attitude that the beast will be beaten make the difference between a long, arduous limp into a Colombian port and wasted time or keeping with schedule and making it to La Libertad, Ecuador. Way to go Captain and 1st Mate Tom! I'm listening to the Perkins not drone but sing as I write this....AAAAAAAAveeeee Mariaaaaa...

Not long after our engine was restored to normal working order was a potential disaster narrowly averted. We happen to be in the happy Ecuadorian fishing grounds and waters that are riddled with miles and miles of long-lines. Tiny Clorox bottles or small Styrofoam buoys are placed 100 yards apart and are attached to a mainline (if they are attached at all) that may stretch as long as ten miles (longest length reported by our fleet) that has droplines that have baited hooks. There is no way to safely maneuver between the buoys and be assured of not tangling the prop. In fact, one of the boats in the fleet tried to do just that and paid the price. I spotted a set of these buoys just minutes before entanglement and I altered course toward a boat spotted several miles off of starboard. We approached the fisherman and I started a conversation with them and grilled them about the depth of the lines ("just under the water"), how long they may be ("many miles"), and how is the fishing ("very good. you have beer? we have fish.") So, I found a new lure for mahi and you never have to drop a line. Throw 'em a six-pack of cheap Panamanian beer and you will catch a cleaned and iced fish every time. Something tells me they won on that one, but the knowledge acquired is invaluable. Last night we avoided entanglement by running toward the boats and then figuring out the drift of their lines and passing them across their bows. It would be nice to be able to hail them on the radio and give our position but seeing that they have no radios or refuse to answer, I found myself on a tired night watch last night grumbling into the microphone in Spanish my location, my heading, and how I can't believe that none of them have at least a portable vhf. Tonight I will probably do the same.

On a side-note, we are expected to cross the equator at about 1830 hrs. Tom is the only one who has crossed the equator (google shellback ceremony). I hear King Neptune may arrive and may be very naughty to those who are crossing for the first time. Little does he know, I plan to beat him to the punch. hahaha.

"Brown-Eyed Girl" out...