Condor’s Story

It was fall of 2002. Condor was being hauled out just like every fall since 1985. She expected to sit out the winter in the comfort of the marina yard alongside the other boats. Little did she know that things were changing. Spring came, but her owner didn’t. He had come every spring and had sanded her bottom and put on fresh paint. The other boats’ owners came and prepared them for the season and one by one they went back in the water. But Condor sat patiently waiting for her owner to come and get her ready.

The summer came. She could feel the warm winds and hear the sounds of other owners and friends enjoying their boats on the water. She knew he would be there soon. As she waited, she thought back to the fun she had in the past 17 years. Daysailing with her owner and his co-workers, non-spinnaker club racing on Wednesday nights, and even some trips to participate in Sabre events. Those were good times when she was able to reunite with sisters and cousins. Even as she relived those memories in her mind, she realized that more of her memories were of years ago and fewer were recent.

It was late fall when he finally showed up at the yard. He checked her over, made sure that she was still winterized and left. She had spent the whole season setting on her stands and hadn’t been able to enjoy the rush of water against her hull or the warm breezes in her sails. But she still had her memories to get her through the cold winter. And she knew next year would be better. Her owner had recently retired so they would have lots more time to spend sailing.

Spring came again and she eagerly waited for her owner to come. Once again the other boats’ owners came and prepared their boats. And again, one by one they went in. At least she had a few other boats to keep her company. The old wooden ketch right in front of her had been out for many years. Her owner was completely rebuilding her. While the tent around kept her warm in the winter it also prevented her from enjoying the sun and the breezes. Condor pitied her. But at least the ketch’s owner came and spent time with her. Condor was feeling lonely.

Condor spent another whole season sitting in the yard only able to hear the sounds of summer around her. With her stern to the water and the tented wooden boat in front of her, she couldn’t even enjoy watching the other boats. Two years ago, when her owner first retired, there were a few weeks when she would bob in her slip as she watched the other boats enjoying time with their owners. A few times he came down and spent the evening just sitting there. He had commented that finding crew was getting harder since he didn’t have co-workers any more.

The seasons came and went. The sun was burning her sail cover and fading her teak. She could feel herself getting old. The sun had dried and cracked her mast boot and she could feel the rain water trickle down her mast to her bilge. At least her owner had left her battery charger plugged in so she was able to run her pump and pump the water out.

She didn’t like it, but still hoped for the best when he put a ‘for sale’ sign on her stern rail. She had seen other boats get new owners and it seemed to breathe fresh wind into them. And, she was pretty proud of the price he had listed. A few people came by and poked and prodded her. Which one would be her new owner?

One late fall storm shredded her sun damaged sail cover. The fact that he had left her sail on had always given her hope of getting back in the water. Now she was beginning to think there wasn’t hope. The shredded sail cover made her feel neglected. Then he lowered her price. She was a mark down. She had seen this before. There was a boat over at the edge of the yard that had been there as long as she could remember. That boat had been a mark down. And now it just sat there and no one ever came or looked at her. Condor was beginning to feel guilty and sorry for some of the thoughts she had about that boat.

Even though her charger was plugged in, she could feel that her batteries just didn’t have the energy they once had. The sun and neglect were making her feel old. The fitting on her deck scupper broke and the rain water ran down into her quarter berth. At least her pump could still get it out.

The sun had once been her friend, but she was beginning to resent it. Its warm rays were now burning every part of her. She used to love the cool rain pouring down on her. It cooled her deck and washed away the dirt and salt. Now she hated the rain. It found more ways to get into her bilge. It was getting harder and harder to pump it out. She could feel the rot in her quarter berth shelf from the rain water sitting on it.

How could this have happened? Her owner had ordered her after seeing one of her sisters at the boat show. He had traveled to Maine to see her being built. He had owned a smaller cousin, a Sabre 30, and wanted to bigger boat. He had taken good care of the other boat and had even found a new owner to take care of her. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be! How could he do this to her?

It was no longer a tickling trickle of rain coming in. It ran in. With each rain the batteries got weaker and finally died. She could no longer pump the water out. Now it filled and overflowed her bilge. She could feel the rot growing in her plywood subfloor. It was leaving a mark on her wood work. Who would want her now?

Another lower price and a few more people to look at her. She almost didn’t want them to come. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. One person seemed interested in her. Maybe there was hope after all. A surveyor came out to inspect her. These people must be serious! These would be the ones to take care of her and put her back into shape.

As the surveyor poked and tapped and tested, she knew he could see past her leaky ports and rotten floor. He got her pumped out and even started her engine. It felt good to have her engine run even though she knew the algae in her fuel wasn’t good for her. She coughed and sputtered until the algae clogged her fuel filter. Then her engine wheezed and died.

She couldn’t believe the report! Corrosion in her keel, engine died and would need to be replaced, rotten subfloor, leaking ports, broken deck drains. Anyone would back away from her with that report. And that is just what they did. Her potential new owner ran away from her and never looked back. She was alone again.

It had been seven years since she had felt the water on her keel and she knew now that she would never feel it again. Another lower price. Another gawker to point out all her faults. She wished they would just leave her alone. The words from the survey report were still burning – engine needs to be rebuilt/replaced, leaks on all port windows, chainplates need to be rebedded, flooring beneath the mast step is "spongy" with rot, mast/deck joint needs to be resealed to stop rainwater from entering the boat, keel needs repair, all running rigging needs replacing, hull needs faring, sanding, and repainting.

Condor was done. It was just as well that she couldn’t see the water. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. It would be better if she were in the corner of the yard where no one could see her and she wouldn’t have to see anything. Now she longed to be under the old wooden ketch’s tent. She wanted to die in peace. Even her for sale sign had gotten destroyed by the sun and had fallen into her cockpit leaving just the cable ties on her stern rail.

More people. Why can’t they just leave her alone? There was no hope left. Only a fool would want her now, especially after the surveyor had written those words. She didn’t want people looking at her keel. She didn’t want them in her cockpit. She didn’t want them poking at her floor or looking at her engine. Just leave!

Why are they back? Haven’t they seen enough? Do they need to ridicule her more? Couldn’t they see she didn’t want them? What do they mean they are her new owners? Can’t they see that she doesn’t want an owner? And the offer they had made was an insult, though inwardly she knew it was really more than she was worth at this point.

They took off what was left of her old sun damaged mainsail. They changed her fuel filters and cleaned her fuel. The pried up her floor and replaced her rotten subfloor. She had to admit that it felt kind of good to be getting some attention after all these years, but didn’t they know they were wasting their time? This time when they started her engine, it felt good; it purred the way it used to. It also felt good to have the corrosion ground out of her keel.

What probably felt the best was having her leaks stopped and her deck drains repaired. No more water running in when it rained. Now the rain could just wash away the dirt and not run into her bilge.

By the time they had buffed and waxed her topsides and sanded and oiled her teak she was beginning to feel like there may be hope. Her floor had been repaired and all her teak inside had been cleaned oiled. Her bronze seacocks had been rebuilt. Her cushions had been cleaned. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed the warmth of human touch. And then they spent the night with her. Did they really care about her? She hoped they would stay forever.

The old chunky anti-freeze had been flushed out of her Westerbeke and many of her hoses had been replaced. Now it felt really good when they ran her engine. They had replaced her cutlass bearing and had her dripless stuffing box rebuilt. They had even given her a new stainless prop shaft. She could barely wait to spin her prop in the water.

Then the day finally came. The travel lift came over and straddled her. She couldn’t believe how good it felt to be lifted off her stands. The gentle swaying in the slings heightened the anticipation of getting back in the water. The driver slowly positioned her over the water and began to lower her. What was that feeling on the tip of her keel? Water! It had been almost eight years! And now, fully lowered and floating on her own. She had almost forgotten how to float.

Her Westerbeke started and her prop spun. She was moving on her own! Freedom! Free from the stands that had held her for so long. She motored over to a dock and was tied up. It had been so long since she had seen or felt the water. This might be even better than the her original launching. Her water tanks were filled. It felt great to have water in her where it belonged rather than running though her and into her bilge.

What was this? A brand new mainsail made especially for her! So white and crisp! It even had her number and the Sabre 36 logo. Once again they started her engine. She never had any doubts about it running. Okay, she had to admit that she had had her doubts and she had once given up. But those doubts and feelings were washing away as they motored away from the dock. And now they were heading away from Solomons, the place she had called home all her life. They had even removed that from her transom and replaced it with “Baltimore, MD”.

After they motored through the channel they raised her sail. The wind filled it and it pulled her gently forward. She was sailing! Just her and the wind and her new owners. Was this real? It felt so good it had to be a dream! But it wasn’t. She was sailing to Baltimore. She was soaring! Living up to the name her original owner had given her – Condor.

We're Back!

Blogger, forgive me for I have sinned. It has been 45 days since my last blog post.

I suppose some of you may have wondered what has been happening with Condor. “Did they get overwhelmed and give up?” “Did they finish it and go sailing without telling us?” Well, the truth is that we’ve been busy. I have been busy working at the Downtown Sailing Center. Suzanne has been busy picking up the slack, working on Condor. Yes, I was able to make a few trips down to work on things, but Suzanne has been faithfully making a trip of two a week to try to chop away at our to-do list.

And, yes, we kind of did get her done and sail her away without telling you. So, I’m filling you in now. We finished the top priority tasks last Friday and Saturday. We spent our first night aboard last Friday night. Granted, she was still sitting on the hard, but we were aboard.

So, Matt had finished the sail. He was a little behind schedule because of the great blizzards of 2010. Suzanne, with a little help from the kids at various times, replaced the rotten subfloor. We got the seacocks rebuilt and finished the engine cooling system. We even rebuilt the head (and we used all the parts in the kit – no left over red parts). We’ll try to back up at some point and try to get some documentation of these project s for those interested.

The plan was to have Condor launched on Wednesday. We had noticed when we were at the boat yard on Friday/Saturday that there was a boat waiting to be hauled that did get hauled. Turns out the travel lift was broken. Lenny assured me that he would get it fixed. They put a new distributor on and it ran well, but wouldn’t hoist. What good is a travel lift that can’t pick up a boat? Yeah, I know a couple of people who wouldn’t care. They think it would be neat to have one to drive to work.

Lenny reassured me again that they would find and fix the problem. Tweaking and jury rigging the hydraulic system should allow it to hoist Condor. Sounds kinda iffy to me. But, I suppose if it can pick he up, what’s the worst that could happen? Don’t answer that!

Lenny avoided my pestering calls because he wasn’t sure of the answer he could give me. Finally, 6p.m. on Thursday evening he calls to tell me that it will work. He had hoisted another boat and would be able to hoist Condor Friday morning. Now we just had to get there. Sam had class Thursday night, but agreed to drive us down after class and drop us off so we wouldn’t have to make another trip to get the car back.

We got to the boat late Thursday night, and before settling in for our second night aboard, I decided to torque the keelboats. You may have read about the condition of the keel. Many people believed that the keel bolts had rusted away and that was the reason for the corroded spots in the lead. Much to my relief, I was only able to put about a quarter turn on the bolts. They were good and solid.

Jimmy showed up about 9:45 Friday morning – I rebuilt a winch while I was waiting. He maneuvered the hoist around and picked Condor up. The keel stayed on! A relief, but after re-torquing the keelbolts, I wasn’t really too concerned.

He lowered her into the water and we quickly jumped onboard and checked every through hull, the stuffing box and the bilge to make sure nothing was leaking. No leaks! We motored her over to the fuel dock where we could bend on the main, fill the tanks and make a few last inspections then we headed to Baltimore. But that’s another story.

And I promise I won’t make you wait 45 days to hear it.

Making a big To-Do.

We’re making a big to-do, but I can’t say it is a big to-do about nothing. Sure that has happened before. Everyone has witnessed an instance where someone has made a big commotion about something which turned out to be pretty minor.

But, this is big to-do about something. And that something is Condor. As mentioned before, we have a self-imposed deadline of March 31 to get Condor to the point where she can be launched and sailed from Solomon’s to Baltimore. The deadline is not 100% self imposed. The PO (previous owner) has paid winter storage through March 31. Being cheap, we decided that it was worth the extra push to get Condor in the water before having to pay more storage. And besides, what good is a sailboat sitting in a yard. We want to get her out and sail!

So, we made a big to-do. And a big to-do it is. Close to 40 things. If you haven’t realized, we’re talking about a to-do list. Close to forty items on Condor’s to-do list. Rather, our to-do list for Condor. In a sense, making this big to-do should really help, though at times looking through it can be overwhelming. Suzanne thinks it should help keep me focused. ADD, you know. All too often, she has to call me back to task because I have found some other issue that requires my attention. For instance, while rebedding the deck plate for the water fill, we had to move the whisker pole. She commented that the spring loaded jaw for the pole wasn’t moving freely. Steve to the rescue! I ran and got some lube and spent fifteen minutes getting it moving while Suzanne stood, glaring at me, holding the deck fitting and waiting for me to apply the caulk. She had to remind me that rebedding the deck plate was on the list and freeing the jaw of the whisker pole could be added to the list – after we finish the deck plate.

It should be pointed out, for those of you with little firsthand experience, that ADD is not the inability to pay attention. Rather it is the ability to pay attention to many things. All too often, those of us who benefit from the effects of ADD are called abruptly back to the task that someone else thinks is more important than the many things we’re focusing on. And so, Suzanne calls me back to her deck plate and we complete that task. By the way, the whisker pole jaw works perfectly now.

Armed with our list, we head to Condor. Please remember that she is about a two hour drive away. With our massive list we jump to work. But where do we start? Time to back up again and prioritize our list. This shouldn’t be too hard. We read through each item and quickly decide if it has to be done before launching. For example, apply bottom paint. That generally works much better if the boat is on stands in the boatyard rather than in the water. So bottom painting is a ‘1’ job. Not all tasks are so easily decided. Rebuild and lubricate the winches. Okay, the winches, all eight of them, function, though not as smoothly as we would like. So rebuilding winches is a “2” job. But have you ever disassembled a winch while the boat is in the water? There is always that one spring that likes to jump overboard. Much safer (read ‘cheaper’) to do while the boat is on the hard. Maybe this should be classified as a “1-2”, meaning it would ideally be done before launch, but can wait.

I mentioned the benefits of ADD. In all truthfulness, I’m still looking for them. So if any of you can offer ideas as to the benefits of ADD, please do.

So, the list? In no particular order:
Fair keel
Sand bottom
Paint bottom
Replace cutlass bearing
Buff/wax topsides
Overhaul seacocks
Rebed chainplates
Replace halyards
Tighten toe-rail bolts
Clean/rebuild winches
Replace rotten cabin subfloor
Clean water tanks
Replace water system filter
Sand/bleach cabin sole
Replace engine zinc
Replace impellor
Replace engine coolant hoses
Finish cabin sole
Lubricate spinnaker and whisker pole ends
Replace all other running rigging
Install radio
Replace Loran
Replace gunwale scuppers
Rebuild manual bilge pump
Replace float switch for auto-bilge pump
Replace batteries
Rebuild quarter berth shelf
Refit doors and drawers
Reattach trim at companionway
Make mainsail cover
Purchase mainsail
Clean fuel tank
Replace prop zinc
Replace fire extinguishers
Replace flares
Replace PFD’s
Replace rotten wood in anchor locker
Clean/replace anchor rode
Replace scupper in anchor locker
Replace fixed ports
Install opening port in quarter berth
Clean and oil interior
Replace stern lettering and hailing port
Check all nav lights
Install bimini

And there you have it. At least until our next visit when I find more stuff that needs to be completed right away and Suzanne gently reminds me to add it to the list.

Making it fair

It’s not fair! Boy, how often do we hear that? Parents hear it all the time. “Why do I have to do my school work when Isaac does't have to go to school? Why don’t I get snow days? It’s not fair!” This is heard frequently in our home where Anna is homeschooled and Isaac goes to public school. She has a point. It isn’t fair. It also isn’t fair that she only spends a couple hours a day doing school work and Isaac has to spend all day, and then has homework. It isn’t fair.

Nobody said that life is fair. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about keels. Some keels are fair, some aren’t. Condor’s isn’t. Or wasn’t. I don’t know if it has always been that way. I really kind of doubt it. In fact, I’m sure it wasn’t that way when she came out of the Sabre factory in 1985. Obviously, her keel was attempted to be made fair, but there were imperfections that they tried to hide. But something else had happened.

Condor’s keel had been neglected. Several layers of peeling bottom paint attempted to cover her not so fair keel. Apparently, high copper content bottom paint applied director to lead can cause galvanic corrosion. Some of these areas looked like blisters with chalky, crumbly material left inside. What exactly it is and how it got there is a bit of a mystery. But there is one thing that is clear. It isn’t fair to leave it unfair.

If you’re wondering what I mean by fair, let’s take a look at it. Fair (‘fer) from the Middle English fager. Does that help? Yeah, I didn’t think so. So how about, fair, as in “he inherited a fair estate”-ample, large. Well, Condor’s keel does hang down to 6’4” below the water. While you could call that ample keel, I don’t think that’s fair. Or at least it’s not the fair that I’m talking about.

Fair, as in impartial? I will be the first to tell you that Condor is about as impartial as one can be. She seems to treat all equally. Well, except that surveyor she didn’t like. Apparently he said something unkind so she wouldn’t let him hear her Westerbeke purr. Again, this isn’t the fair I’m discussing. While her gelcoat is bright white, fair, as in fair skin, isn’t it either.

So, how about this? "Pleasing to the eye or mind especially because of fresh, charming, or flawless quality." Hmm. Seems right. Condor’s keel was not of flawless quality. And it isn’t fair to leave it that way.

So the work began. And a fair amount of work it was. Tool number one: our trusty Paint Shaver. In this case, it would be renamed Paint, Lead, and various other garbage Shaver. This trusty tool is basically an electric 4” grinder with a cutter head attached. The cutter head holds three carbide triangles that scrape the surface as it rotates, sending paint, lead, or whatever else flying. Okay, we’re not so environmentally irresponsible as to allow lead and copper paint to freely do their damage. The Paint Shaver has a hood that doesn’t allow the particles to escape except through a 1-1/4” hole. And guarding that hole is a hose leading directly into our HEPA lead vacuum. This is tool number two. It is probably worth pointing out that Suzanne got herself certified as a lead paint removal contractor and thus, she make sure things are correctly.

Why would she do such a thing? Some of you may recall that we live in a restored (mostly) 1860’s farm house. The house was covered in multiple layers of heavy lead paint, and then wrapped in asbestos. Lead paint inside and out. Have you priced the removal of lead paint? It was cheaper for Suzanne to become a lead paint removal contractor and remove the lead paint ourselves. Hence the Paint Shaver and lead vacuum. And who knows how many pounds of lead paint were removed from the inside and outside of the house.

Okay, so donned in gloves, lead dust approved respirator, goggles, and ear protection, she went to work. The idea was to get the surface somewhat leveled out. The Paint Shaver quickly ate through the paint and high spots of the lead. A little sanding finished things up and got into the depressions. These depressions are the imperfections in the keel. Not the depressions that come from dealing with lots of snow (with more in the forecast) and a deadline for completing work on Condor fast approaching. Those depressions are best treated with something other than an orbital sander.

Then came the fun part troweling on the filler. We used an epoxy filler and trowled it out. First vertical, then horizontal, then diagonally. Once cured, ridges are sanded off with the orbital sander. More filler with a wide trowel. Then sanding with a longboard just the way the material was applied – vertical, horizontal, diagonal. A longboard is a long board that sandpaper sticks to. It keeps you from making low spots as you sand. This longboard has nothing to do with surfing. Well, that is unless you were using it to fair the bottom of a planning dinghy.

I don’t know if it’s fair. Fair to Suzanne to do all this work? Fair to have to do this work to Condor? Fair to have let Condor get into this condition? Fair to have to do school work while Isaac has a snow day?

But, it is safe to say that Condor’s keel is fair. And not just the kind of okay fair.