Blake Island Marina, 17-SEP-2026 – Another $1000 all together to get the cutlass bearing fixed. I could have done it in 90 minutes.
But I would have needed a machine shop for part of it. And I definitely would have needed a lift. That’s about $800. The extra two hundred isn’t too bad to swallow when you look at it that way.
The trip into Burton was very nice. We rode the bus and met the driver. John spoke to him the entire way; Jennifer and talked with each other. We went to the senior center. Jennifer remembered some of the people she had met before and their names and what they had discussed. I remembered meeting them but little more.
We sat at a table that was entirely women, except for John and me. It went very well, we had a salad and then something with Soba noodles, and dessert of water melon and dessert bars of brownies, fruit bars, cakey bars: one per person with two left over. The women were very nice, spoke when spoken to but seemingly did not start conversations, but they all had something to say. They were all women who worked at very good professions, lawyers, doctors, etc, and most were within a couple of years of my age, which was quite startling.
The bus going back wouldn’t leave for three hours. Jennifer wanted to walk – it was a two-plus-hour walk; John wanted to wait (and visit with everyone); I was undecided what I wanted to do. One of the women at the table announced where she was going and said she’d drop us off. She took us on a short tour of the area and took us by a farm that sold squashes. Many different ones, we were assured.
On Monday, I spoke with Emily, who gave us a slip number in Gig Harbor. It was a single-wide slip; we could tie on either side.
We had John to dinner that night, as we did most nights, and prepared to call the tow company the next morning. Tuesday, John came over for coffee. I went into the dock, took a shower, and filled a five-gallon container of water to put into our water tank. We took the engine off the dinghy and mounted it on the stern rail, put the dinghy to bed on the foredeck, then called Progressive for the tow boat.
Why did we put everything away before calling? I was afraid that if we called and the dinghy wasn’t onboard, the tow operator would arrive in ten minutes and we’d be stuck.
I called Progressive, told her where we were, and gave her GPS coordinates. She hunted for a few minutes and then said someone would be there in 90 minutes. He arrived in two hours, keeping us apprised the entire time. Progressive texted after 90 minutes to check that he was there; he wasn’t, but I explained that he said he’d be there in 15 minutes. They texted again in fifteen minutes; by then Jason had told us another 15 minutes, and we duly reported.
He arrived playing the March from Star Wars, hooked us up, and towed us.
Everyone wants to help. As he eased us into the slip, with the instruction not to disconnect the bow line, Kevin, from Gig Harbor – who I hadn’t met before – raced down and said Who are you? We’re not expecting anyone.
Jennifer became upset.
I said, yes you are, I spoke with Emily. He said, When? I said yesterday. He replied, you’re the boat with the stripped screws. Yes.
He then disconnected the bow line and it became difficult to pull us into the slip. But we did. He asked when we were supposed to be worked on. I told him, and he said he’d see us tomorrow. And he went away.
Jason, the boat operator, told us to be thankful for our insurance, told Jennifer the tow would be over $900, and to the Ride of the Valkyries, told us to keep our insurance. (Another $1000, but we wouldn’t be paying for this one immediately, just over time as our insurance premiums rise.)
Jennifer and I walked to Napa to buy oil, oil filters, V-Belts, and some tools. They only had one oil filter – I wanted two and didn’t have the tool I wanted. (I found the tool in the bag with the taps today, actually, the day after I had the work done.) While I was paying, Steve Lindsay, who was driving down from Victoria, stopped outside the store and embraced Jennifer. When I came out, I asked how he found us. The answer: I gave Steve my tracking last year, and it still tracks me.
We went to dinner. Steve paid.
Jennifer and I were up early. I wandered around the yard and the street. Gig Harbor Boatyard and Marina (GHBM) is a very well-maintained yard. The best I’ve ever been in. The infrastructure is top-notch; even the big sign that points towards the harbor is clean and fresh.
Gig Harbor is a monied town, also a tourist town. In the morning, beginning around 6:30, the town starts, slowly, to come to life. Dog-owner walkers, not the professionals, walk by. Joggers are visible for less time as they cross the driveway. A garbage truck had come into the yard around 5:45. I saw the sign by where the dumpsters were. The pickup is between 5 am and 11 am, keep the area clear; the doors open outward.
At 7:40, a group of about 40 women came off the docks into the yard, each wearing a PFD and carrying a paddle. These were the dragon boat teams. The median age was probably late forties, but the distribution was a gentle curve. Most of the women were short. I’m not sure what that means, but perhaps it is just because Jennifer is 5’10” my norm has shifted. One woman was 6’2” at least.
Around 8 am, the workers started showing up. At 8:20, a man started on the travel lift. There is much more checking done before starting the machine than I had supposed. I asked if he was Mark. He said, yes, and I told him Kevin from Breakwater said hello. We discussed where Kevin was: Tonga, and was he on his boat? No.
Mark said he’d move our boat at 8:30 and did we want to be on board? I said we’d let him know. In the end, Jennifer stayed on board and worked wonderfully with Mark as she does with everyone. Mark’s helper, a tall man with a big beard and a straw hat, came by while we were casting off. Where are you from, Jennifer asked, Kentucky. I thought you were from the South. He had lived in southeast Atlanta for a while in an area that Jennifer knows.
When the boat was in the lift in the yard, Kevin, the yard manager, and Jason(?), the mechanic, came by. I explained what needed to be done. Kevin said they’d need to block the boat. Mark and his helper got to work. It’s about 9 am, at this time.
Then Jason and I got to work. Jason did all the work. Kevin did a little of the prep – he turns out to be heavy-handed. I discussed what I wanted done; I supplied all the parts and some of the tools.
Steve was in attendance for most of the work, gave his expert opinions, and took all the pictures on his very cool not-available-in-North-America phone.
Kevin removed the prop and the aluminum anode and announced with Jason in concurrence that I had electrolysis on my prop. I thought I could see red on the pictures the diver in PT took, (But, with uncertain color shifts, I had hoped I was wrong.) No more aluminum anodes – I had a zinc and two aluminums with me.
Jason removed the screw that was holding, which Nicco had installed, the wire holding it in, and the bronze fitting, the rubber bushing, and the cutlass bearing. It seems that they had never seen one like Caro Babbo’s. Before removing it, he pushed sideways on the bearing and pronounced it loose. I wasn’t in complete agreement because I knew about the rubber bushing.
The four of use looked at the bearing: it was thinner at the outboard end than the inboard end. It was wearing. I decided we’d replace it. I keep a piece of G-10 cutlass bearing stock, which I had in my bag, in Caro Babbo’s galley with the stove repair tools. Jason would turn it to fit properly and we’d use it. He did a great job.
Before installing the bearing, we heli-coiled the screw holes. One was completely shot; the other, the threads were worn. Jason drilled out the holes, installed the heli-coils, we put anti-sieze on the screws and he tightened them properly: enough so that the bushing was compressed, but not distorted. First thing I learned.
Then he taught me how to properly wire the screws. I had drilled the screw heads for wire beforehand.
We went to lunch. The boat next to us went into the water. It had come back out because a transducer they had installed leaked – even pros have to do some jobs twice.
When we returned, we went in. Nothing leaked, we started the engine and off we went.
We went to a pump-out dock and pumped out. As we were leaving, the exhaust sounded dry. It was dry. We went back to the dock, and I one by one disconnected the hoses working from the raw water pump and got the water flowing. This recurs every time we put the boat back into the water. Next time I will close the through-hull to that pump so that the water doesn’t drain out. Apparently, the pump doesn’t have the suction necessary to self-prime.
When I paid the bill, less than estimated, there it was 8.5% added to the labor for ‘‘shop supplies.’’ I complained. I supplied everything, I mean everything. The woman didn’t have answer and then said, well it is for uniforms and everything else to keep the shop running. She should have just said it is how we increase our margin without raising our rates, or perhaps called it a management fee – the cost of Kevin. It does piss me off.
In summary, Progressive seems to be a great insurance company. The support and explanations were wonderful. Jason, the man running the tow boat was very professional and very nice.
Gig Harbor Boatyard and Marina were fantastic. Everyone one of them. Kevin is a little heavy a handed: he put a burr into the bearing holder because he set it on a steel vise when he hit it with a lead hammer.
We’re at Blake Island, we’ll leave in a few hours. We’ll be on the wall at Mohai. They have either raised the rates, or there is a weekend rate that we didn’t know about. It will cost us $82 for a 31-foot space on the wall with no services. Ah, well. Boat prices are dropping and ownership costs are rising.*
We’ll be on the hook at Port Townsend for the next week while Jennifer helps a friend move. I’ll probably write some more and do touch-ups and refinishing in the cabin. If you’re nearby make sure to let me know.
*The wonderful Jen, the person who does the booking, explained she charged us the commercial rate, 2X the non-commercial rate. All is good.
