We've always maintained our boats with minimal bilge water and kept the bilges clean so the engine room doesn't smell. We check the bilges as part of our regular engine room checks, so we can spot water leaks right way if the level increases, and mechanical leaks are obvious if an oily sheen forms on the bilge water surface. Despite having our previous boat for thirteen years and not finding all the water leaks, neither one of us can figure out why there needs to be an inch of water in the bottom of the bilge.

We have a dripless packless-shaft seal, instead of the conventional stuffing box that drips water by design, so we have no regular drips of water into the bilge. Most are just the minor leaks that occur in most boats. They can be hard to find, however, as many show up only in rough water where we can't be out investigating the source of the leaks. Still, it seems that we ought to be able to find and fix them all. In measuring the bilge water with a total-dissolved solids (TDS) meter, we found it was a mix of fresh and saltwater. Not all was coming in from the sea--some must be coming in from rainwater or boat washing, as our freshwater tank wasn't losing any water.

Over the past three weeks, we decided to go after the leaks more seriously to try to get a dry bilge. Here's what we found:        

1. The cockput gunnel gangway socket drain runs into bilge        
2. The cockpit shower door leaks water in rough seas into the starboard aft cockpit locker        
3. Vents on the starboard aft cockpit locker door leaks water in rough seas       
4. The hatch from the cockpit to the lazarette leaks a bit of water in rough seas
5. The propane locker drain hose leaks into the lazaratte at the entry to the locker and at the thru-hull        
6. The thru-hull for the propane locker drain has no ball valve and plastic connection are in use       

The gangway socket drain accounted for much of the freshwater in the bilge water. Every time rain fell, or we washed the boat, that socket would fill with fresh water that would run into the bilge. But boarding seas would bring saltwater in as well. Instead of draining into the bilge, we installed a small thru-hull in the cockpit below the socket to exhaust into the cockpit.

To seal the cockpit shower door, we fitted it with insulating foam. We'd already installed a piece of marine board sealed with 5200 marine adhesive over the leaking vents in the cockpit door, but the door is somewhat curved and the marine board had lifted away slightly. So this time we built a gasket from non-skid shelf liner to put between the vents and the marine board, and sealed that with 5200.

We weren't bringing much water in through the hatch from the cockpit to the lazarette, and only in heavy seas, but enought to be irritating. Tightening the door didn't completely solve the problem so we replaced the gasket with a different design. The original was rather rigid and we felt one with a hole through it that could compress more would work better. We'd mentioned this to Don Stabbert, whose boat Starr is docked nearby. Don dropped off a large bag of gasket samples and later a supply of one that we thought we work well. Off came the old gasket and on went the new.

The propane locker has a drain hose from the bottom of the locker, through the lazarette, and overboard via a thru-hull. This is a safety precaution in case of a propane leak. Tightening the clamps easily resolved the two hose leaks. Replacing that thru-hull was a much bigger job. At minimum we wanted to replace those plastic parts--a Nordhavn had sunk at the dock recently because plastic parts were used in a thru-hull application. But we also wanted a ball-valve to be able to close the thru-hull in an emergency should the pipe break. The existing thru-hull at left was solidly bonded to the hull with 5200, but we eventually managed to remove it by forcibly rotating it in place. We replace it with a new industrial-strength valved thru-hull.

We still have a few pieces of equipment that drain into the bilge via hoses and a manifold to a single point: the engine intake drains and the lazarette freezer. These should rarely run water, so we we just put a small bottle on the end of the hose to collect any water that does come through.

Beyond the bilge, we also wanted to get our exterior lockers drier. While we had stopped saltwater from entering the lazarette through the propane locker drain, we couldn't prevent saltwater from entering the locker itself. The drain had to remain open in case of a propane leak, and that meant saltwater could get forced through the hose and into the locker. We also had several lockers where fresh water would get inside, partly from condensation. The lockers drained fine and weren't really a problem, but we didn't want their contents sitting in water and wanted to improve aeration so they might dry faster. In these we installed modular floor tiles, cut to fit.

We've been checking the bilge regularly, and so far it has remained completely dry for three weeks. This includes an offshore run through Kaiwi Channel to Kane'Ohe Bay on the east side of Oahu, where the cockpit was awash much of the run there.

Earlier this month, we got a chance to tour the Hanjin Oslo at Seattle's Terminal 46. We had an incredible time--we watched the ship come in, toured the yard, and best of all, were given a detailed onboard tour that included the machinery. The above photo of us on the bridge wing was taken by Peter Kim,  who supervises the Hanjin shipping container ports in the Puget Sound and Vancouver, WA. Peter knows the Hanjin and port operations well--his detailed explanations of how things work and the equipment involved really added to our enjoyment of the visit. 

We left Bell Harbor Marina as the Hanjin Oslo was entering Elliott Bay and arrived at the terminal in time to watch the ship dock. The ship of course is huge, but the size and scale is really obvious when it's next to other vessels. The 915-foot ship dwarfs the roughly 382-foot ferry Kaleetan to the stern.  And that "small" tug off the bow is the 98-foot Crowley Tioga.

Peter Kim, the port supervisor, is pictured below left with those huge gantry cranes behind. The "BRIDGE" sign in the righthand picture indicates where the bridge of the ship should go. That car Peter is standing next to also marks  the location.

As the ship approached the dock, the caption (in the hat on the left) and the pilot directed the docking from the bridge wing.

It was a tight sqeeze--Peter wanted the ship to dock about 100 feet in front of the already-moored Cosco Seattle. If the Oslo was too far forward, trucks entering and leaving to carry away containers would get each other's way and slow down the unload.

The terminal area was pretty empty and quiet when we arrived, and as we watched the ship dock. But once the ship had stopped, the place sprang to life. Forklifts buzzed about, trucks began arriving to pick up the containers, and various officials appeared to process the ship's arrival into port. Crane operators whizzed to the top of their cranes in small elevators and moved the cranes into position. The video link at bottom left shows the cranes closest to us going into position. For such a large piece of equipment, it moves quickly.

The walkway, that we would take to board the ship, lowering into position. Peter took us on a tour of the yard first, and then we boarded the Oslo. One of the first things we saw on board was the emergency muster station, with a labelled position for each crew member to ensure all are accounted for. For such large ships, the crews are relatively small. The Oslo typically will have a crew of 21, or 22 if a cadet is on board.

Our first stop was an officer's room. There we met the captain and three members of the bridge crew, and had an enjoyable discussion with them before beginning the tour. On the screen at the back of the room, they were monitoring the ship's trim while ballast adjustments were made to compensate for weight distribution changes as containers were unloaded.

The Oslo's third officer, also named Peter, took us on a tour of the ship, starting with the bridge. It was so wild to be on the bridge of a container ship.

Peter, of the Oslo, explained the operations of the various equipment at the bridge, and let me "drive".

The Oslo's captain has a real green thumb. He was growing quite an extensive garden in the corner of the bridge, including an impressive tomato plant.

The view looking forward and aft from the bridge wing. The long-range visibility is impressive, but is quite limited close-range--it's a long way to the bow. Peter Kim commented that the you could lay the 605-foot Space Needle in between the bridge and that small white tower at the bow. Small boats just forward of the ship would simply be invisible from the bridge. This Discovery Channel show on Container Ships, featuring the Hanjin Washington, shows how resticted the visibility is from the bridge when entering a port.

From the bridge wing, we had an excellent view of the containers being offloaded. In the video linked at right, you can see how skilled and efficient the crane operators are at pulling a container out and depositing it onto a waiting truck.

The next stop was the machinery monitoring room. Besides the main engine, the Oslo has four auxiliary generators for producing electricity. We believe 2 are 2700 kw and 2 are 1700kw.

And then we got to see the engine. It's absolutely huge. Peter Kim compared it to the equivalent of ten city buses stacked vertically. For more details on the engine, see Jame's blog entry Visiting the Hanjin Oslo Container Ship. Below are two pictures from the top floor of the engine room.

And these are the second and third floors down in the engine room.

The prop shaft extends from the engine at the lower (third) level down. It's incredibly huge, with massive supports.

The last picture below is of various huge engine spares, include cylinders and sections of the prop shaft. Notice how clean and sparkling everything is. Peter had warned us before our tour that this was a working ship and would be dirty, but we'd been on cruise ships that weren't as clean as the Oslo. There wasn't a speck of dirt in evidence anywhere.

We had an awesome time that afternoon. Thanks to Hanjin Shipping lines, the captain and crew of the Oslo, and Peter Kim for an incredibly informative tour.

We've just returned from an incredible tour of the Hanjin Oslo at Seattle's Terminal 46, courtesy of Peter Kim, who supervises the Hanjin container ports in the Puget Sound and Washington state. The scope and scale of the ship is amazing, and the Hanjin operation is extremely professional. We'll be posting a more detailed description, but here's a sneak-preview.

The table has sold.

The Martinique Veranda Extension Teak Wood Table with flexed leg design seats six to eight people comfortably. Twin leaf butterfly extensions allow you to extend both leaves simultaneously, or one at a time depending on the number of guests. When the extensions are collapsed, the Martinique Table transforms into a beautiful round table.

We bought this table in 2010 and love it, but don't have room for it on the boat. The table costs $2091 new, plus a minimum of $145 shipping, and we're selling for $599 or best offer.

Email, or contact by phone at 425-922-2991.

Click pictures below for larger images.

We prefer to eat our meals, read and generally relax outdoors as much as possible. In the cool and sometimes rainy Pacific Northwest, this at times can be a challenge. But we're motivated to make it work. On our previous boat, the covered aft deck allowed us to be outside even when rain was falling, so long as the temperature was into the 50s and winds were moderate. Installing canvas around the open rails would have given us better wind protection, but it also would have reduced rearward visibility and somewhat darkened the boat. We also could have enclosed the entire area, but we weren't keen on the windage that would add, or the hassle of having panels to open or remove when wanted to be "really" outside or if big storms were forecast.

Instead, we had installed a propane heater behind our table on the aft deck. If little wind was blowing, we could be warm and comfortable outside in 50-degree weather. The heater ran off the same tank as the barbecue and produced between 8,000 and 42,000 BTUs per hour. (Ours was a Mr. Heater model MH42T with 3 burners.)

If the temperature was warm enough, but the winds were too strong to be on the back deck, we'd set up a table in the cockpit. Wind protection was good, although space was a little tight.

The current boat has a spacious covered cockpit with solid walls that provides much better wind protection. We missed having a heater out there though--often the temperature isn't quite warm enough to be outside when we wanted to be. We considered installing a propane heater, but we'd been rather enjoying the reduced propane load of an electric oven and no propane heater. Diesel is the fuel we have in greatest quantity, so it made sense to leverage that somehow. We looked at various portable diesel heaters, but all would require space to store, be a hassle to get out and put way, and we'd need to plumb into the diesel system somehow to fill it. In the end, we decided to make use of the diesel heater we already had--an Olympia diesel boiler from Sure Marine--and plumbed two outlets into the cockpit that feed under the table. The output isn't as hot as the propane heater was, but this does take the bite off the temperature in cold weather, so we can be outside when we'd otherwise be too cold.

We loved having the outdoor heat on our trip to Prince William Sound last year, but rain still was a problem. The boat deck ends about two feet short of completely sheltering the cockpit and heavy rains would soak the the furniture. We're pretty stubborn though--and would find a way if the temperature worked. In the bottom left picture below, we stuck an large rain umbrella in the table to deflect the rain, and in the bottom left the furniture is drenched and I'm sitting on a rag and a pillow to keep dry.

We recently solved the rain problem with an eyebrow bimini. Canvas Supply Company, who did all our canvas and floor covering, built the sturdy canopy. The fabric portion can easily be removed if we are concerned about taking on big waves on the stern. Now, even if heavy rains are falling, the cockpit and furniture stay dry. That first weekend after it was installed we were slightly disappointed not get get any rain to test out the bimini--the weather was warm and sunny with no precipitation. But with the weather this past week, we've had several good rain tests.

For us, one of the keys to living comfortably in the small space of a boat is to reduce clutter and keep our frequently-used items easily accessible. Reducing clutter isn't just for appearances--it also means we can leave the dock on a moments notice without having to spend a half-hour stowing loose items. And if commonly-used items are properly organized and easily accessible, we won't waste time searching for something we've misplaced. The key to keeping things organized is to make it easy--we aim to have systems so that items can be retreived and put away properly with minimal effort. When something is frustrating to access or stow, we're less likely to put it away properly. We try to follow a couple of simple rules: 1) if we spend too much time dealing with a commonly-used item, we find a new place or stowage system for it and 2) if we have to move a less-frequently used item to access a more commonly-used one, we find a new place for that first item.

Stowing items means you need to have a place for them. As much as possible throughout the boat, we added locker doors and made even small dead spaces accessible. Then we tried to make maximul use of those smaller spaces, particularly the ones we'd access most frequently. Three small lockers with shelves in the salon are a convenient place to store keys and other loose items, but the shelves are small compared to the vertical height of the space. To make best use of the storage, we early on added a 4-hook key rack to one and two 3"x6"x2.5" bamboo boxes to another. The bamboo boxes effectively turn one shelf into three.

One place we found frustrating to deal with, but took a while to solve, was the laundry area in the day head area The only convenient space available to store detergent etc was in the open area on the washing machine lid. But this meant we had to move things off every time we opened the lid. It wasn't a huge deal, but it was breaking rule (1). We tried just putting everthing on the floor for the few hours a week when we did laundry, but didn't like that much either--too messy-looking. We had a difficult time finding a storage system that would attach to the louvered door, be big enough to hold detergent bottles, yet not be too tall or deep for the space. Eventually we found these kitchen cabinet organizers. They are designed to hang from a cabinet door, but we removed the hanging part, attached the two together with cable ties, and screwed the whole unit onto the cabinet door. A hook above holds our folding laundry basket. As a separate item we also added a magnet, visible in the upper left of the vertical picture, to hold the dryer door open. When loading and unloading in rougher water, we no longer have to worry about banging our head on the swinging door.

Another rule (1) violation was glove storage in the pilot house wet locker. We'd been just keeping them in a pile on the locker floor, but were always digging through trying to find the right pair. We had a small strip on the door above the louver to install hooks, but needed a way to hang gloves that wouldn't extend above the top of the door. We settled on an eight-hook key rack and these Grip Clips. The clip's non-slip rubber grips hold the gloves well, and they easily hang on the hooks without preventing the door from closing. We expect to find more uses for these clips.

For other organization ideas, see Really Useful Boxes and Galley storage.

We purchased our first digital camera, a Canon PowerShot Pro90 IS, in 2002. Many of our pictures are taken from a boat, with the subject often at a distance. So we wanted a long lens to successfully get those distant shots. Since light conditions in the Pacific Northwest can be poor, and we'd often be using a long lens, image stabilization could make the difference between an interesting picture and a missed shot. We decided against an SLR for a couple of reasons: a good image-stabilized SLR lens was expensive back then, on the order of $2,500, and the complete camera packages were heavy and bulky. For our use, we wanted a reasonably compact, lightweight package that was easy to use, carry and stow. A minimal SLR setup, with a body and two lenses, is a fair bit of equipment to carry around. Also, since many interesting shots happen quickly, we might lose them because we didn't have the right lens on for the shot. The early SLRs had an additional disadvantage of not being able to shoot movies. The PowerShot cost about $1,000, was image-stabilized, could record movies, and had a wide zoom range from 37 to 370mm. With an inexpensive camera, we could afford to upgrade it every few years as technology improved, or if we damaged it. Although the PowerShot picture quality wouldn't be as good as an SLR, this seemed like the right way to go for our usage pattern.

Another problem with an expensive SLR camera is that losing or damaging one is a pretty significant financial loss. We frequently take pictures in extreme conditions, in pouring rain or in rough water while taking waves, and have damaged at least two cameras this way. For example, the wave pictured above was taken in a 9-foot dinghy in 40-knot winds off the northwest coast of Vancouver Island, and the one below was taken in the Broughton Archipelago during a winter snowstorm. And here is a video we shot of breaking ice into Princess Louisa Inlet during a winter visit. For the wave picture in particular, we would not have been comfortable taking camera equipment costing more than $4,000 out in those conditions (you might argue that we should not have been comfortable taking ourselves out there either). Ironically, we got a great picture almost because we didn't have good equipment.

 Over the years, capabilities have improved dramatically and prices have fallen. Here's the digital cameras we've owned:

• 2002: Canon PowerShot Pro90 IS, $975, 37-370mm, 2.6 MP
• 2004: Panasonic DMC-FZ10, $800, 35-420mm, 4 MP
• 2005: Panasonic DMC-FZ30, $650, 35-420mm, 8 MP
• 2009: Canon PowerShot SX20 IS, $400, 28-560mm, 12.1 MP
• 2012: Canon PowerShot SX40 HS, $400, 24-840mm, 12.1MP

In addition to lens and image stabilization, big improvements also have been made in quality and speed of electronic focus systems. Our current camera, aCanon PowerShot SX40 HS, is respectively fast, produces good pictures, and has an incredibly wide zoom range from 24-840mm. And at $400, if the camera is damaged by operating in extreme conditions, it’s not the end of the world.

One thing we’ve found valuable is a lens hood. This helps protect the lens, keeping rain and snow off when taking pictures, and, without putting the lens cap on, we can quickly stuff the camera inside a coat for protection from weather or bumping.

We revisited the SLR decision with the second camera, but since then haven't bothered, and have generally just upgraded every few years. You can see the improvements in picture sharpness, color quality and white balance in this collection of our best and favorite pictures taken over the past decade.

We keep our boat ready to sail at all times, with drawers all latched and loose items stowed. When we're heading out for the weekend, we just need to start the engines and go. Before we lived aboard at Bell Harbor Marina, we could arrive at our Elliott Bay Marina slip on a Friday night after work and cast off the lines in under five minutes. This included the time spent unloading and returning two dock carts. Our next-door slip neighbors, Paul and Pam Lewis on Nordhavn 46 Gryphon, would pretend to time us and jokingly let us know if we were slowing down.

We've kept the same practice since moving aboard. We'll do more preparation, however, when we're heading out on a run where we might see bigger seas, such as the offshore run to SE Alaska or Prince William Sound.

To prevent a window blow-out should we take a large wave or a knockdown, we cover the five large salon windows with lexan storm plates. The plates screw into welded sockets on the window corners and are easy to install--we can put all five on in less than ten minutes. When not in use, we stow the plates beside the stack on the boat deck, under a canvas cover. On the offshore run to SE Alaska, we didn't feel the storm plates were necessary. But on the Prince William Sound trip, when waves were breaking against the side of the boat above the level of the pilothouse, we were glad the storm plates were in place.

We also have deadlights, metal covers that screw into the interior of the porthole, for the eight along the sides of the boat (one in the galley, two in the master stateroom, one in the master head, and four in the guest stateroom). Deadlights for the master stateroom are particularly important because the portholes there are large and close to the waterline. A nice side-effect is that the deadlights darken the room, making it easier to sleep there during daylight on a multi-day passage. The deadlights are a little more troublesome to install than the storm plates. The master stateroom deadlights fit right over the top of the porthole, but we have to remove the window hinges to install the rest. We keep them all stowed low in a bilge when not in use.

Our bow roller has a captive pin to secure the anchor underway. Matching the anchor and bow roller holes is a little fussy however, so we use a carabiner and short length of line to secure the anchor most of the time. But when preparing for heavy weather, we use the pin.

We've installed D-rings in the cockpit and boat deck and use ratchet straps to secure everything on deck. We generally keep them that way, including the heavy outdoor teak tables, although this isn't really necessary for local conditions. About the only thing we'll keep loose on a regular basis when underway locally is our teak chairs. But even for a short run across say, the Strait of Juan de Fuca, we secure the chairs as well.

We also use ratchet straps and bungee to secure fluids and large bins in the engine room and lazarette, and these always are kept in place.

Other heavy weather preparation items include locking down the davit, and plugging the furnace exhaust so water can't be forced down. And after the caprail flipped open during the Prince William Sound trip, we now secure it with bungie when preparing for rough seas.

When it comes to managing interior lockers, particularly the galley, one school of thought is to keep the lockers packed as tightly as possible, with no glass containers, so that nothing can shift or break in rough weather. We'd find that a little onerous--we want the galley to be workable in normal conditions. We generally don't have a problem with items shifting inside galley lockers anyway, even in pretty rough conditions. But when preparing for more extreme weather, we use bubble wrap, nerf balls, and foam scraps to keep thing secure and quiet underway. And we keep a bag of foam scraps handy to stuff into any place that develops a noise--it's surprising what will move or squeak in big seas. Even with no risk of items falling, keeping noise levels down reduces anxiety--you don't wonder what is loose and what might happen. Offshore sailors reported that loose items shifting and falling reduces a crew’s confidence in their vessel’s safety.

We put big sheets of bubble wrap above and around our glasses and plates, and wrap any items, such as glass olive oil bottles. And we stuff small pieces of bubble wrap in the fridge and pantry shelves to keep items there from moving. 

To keep vertically-stored items such as cookie sheets and baking pans from rattling and shifting, we stuff a nerf ball between them and the locker wall.  

We always keep one refrigerator bar in the back half of the fridge--the large heavy bottles there slide too easily. The bars do make taking things in and out a pain, though, so we only put the front bar in place as part of heavy weather preparation.

We have lever latches on anything in the galley that could swing open underway--the fridge, dishwasher and oven doors, the garbage compactor, the freezer drawers, the two large drawers beside the dishwasher, and the heavy sliding pantries. We often use the levers underway locally, and are careful to keep them latched when underway in any rough water. The levers are much easier to use than the standard barrel bolts--we're glad to have upgraded.

To keep any loose items on flat surfaces from shifting, we distribute silicone backing mats throughout the boat. Rick Lamb of Nordhavn 47 Sojourn Mariner recommended them. The mats look better than the non-skid liner we use in our lockers, and are thin, so items can rest partway on the mat.

Our Ekornes chairs have swing tables that we stow, but we leave the chairs loose. We've never had a problem with them even shifting until the Prince William Sound return trip--one of the chairs actually flipped over when we took a particularly large wave on the side. If it happens again we might devise a way to secure them, but haven't felt the need so far.

One of the reasons we made the offshore run from Seattle to Prince William Sound was to gain experience. A gale in the Gulf of Alaska wasn't exactly the sort of experience we were hoping for. But we did learn that the boat, and our rough-water preparations, could take the conditions. The full log of both offshore runs is at Cruising Prince William Sound.

Three days out from Prince William Sound, on our way north, the forecast called for 30-knot SE winds and 10-foot seas. Two days out, the forecast had worsened to 40 knots from the SE with 13-foot seas. As we neared, the surface analysis charts showed the low deepening from 998 to 991. Within a day, the barometer fell from 1014 to 1003 and the seas built from calm to 10-12' on the stern quarter. Even with the stabilizers and autopilot working well, the boat motion still was substantial. We had to be careful to have good handholds when moving about--crawling often was easier.

We ended up not using the off-watch berth at all on this trip. Partly because the pitching motion the first few days was enough to make sleeping there difficult, and also because it was easier on the person on watch to not worry about making noise and waking the person who was off-watch.

In the past when we've been in rough water and had difficulty sleeping in the pilothouse berth, the master was comfortable. In this storm, James slept fine in the master berth, but I was having trouble falling asleep because I was sliding around on the bed with the sideways motion. I eventually wedged myself between the bed and the floor, and slept well.

At some point during the storm, the starboard caprail flipped open. It's a big, heavy piece of solid fiberglass--that must have taken some force. Nobody felt inclined to go out and close it though. One more item for the heavy weather preparation list--on the return trip, we ran a bungee from the inside to the outside handle to hold it down.

We hit much worse weather on the return trip. We'd left Prince William Sound as conditions were settling down from a gale the night before. At the Cape Cleare Data Buoy, the wave height had fallen steadily from 20' at 10pm to 11' by 11:50am, and the forecast indicated continued improvement. Another storm was predicted in a few days, and we wanted to get well south before it hit.

Conditions, however, worsened rather than improved. The winds picked up to 30 knots, with gusts to 41 and then to increased to 40 knots with gusts to 59. The seas were 13', about 5 seconds apart, and were breaking above the pilot house roof. Several slammed into the side of the boat at that height--we were glad to have the lexan storm shields on those big salon windows.

This time we were taking the waves on the bow and the pitching motion was severe.  We both got seasick, James for the first time ever. Although it wasn't debilitating, we both put on a scopolamine patch so we could keep food/water down. I'd had no problems with seasickness on the way up--severe pitching generally is what does me in. Spitfire seemed to be nervous, but otherwise did well. He ate lots, slept lots, and occasionally headed down below to use the cat box.

We were through the storm in 36 hours, although it felt a lot longer. We were pretty tired, but the boat handled remarkably well throughout. The furnace plug was torn off during the storm, the wind pressure against the dinghy cover wore a hole through it, and our US flag was slightly shredded, but otherwise we had no issues. The rest of the trip home was amazingly calm--we could run for days or weeks in those conditions.

Seasickness really makes taking video unappealing, but we did shoot some on the trip north as the storm was building. Waves never seems to look as big in pictures as in person, but notice in a few frames the horizon disappears off the top of the screen and then almost under the bow. Those waves are a good 8-10'. You can see the stabilizers working to counteract the rolling motion of the waves. And notice the caprail flipped open in some of the starboard shots.

We were surprised at how quiet the pilothouse is. The salon isn't particularly loud, but the engine noise is more apparent there. We'd never noticed that until put the video together. We have things pinned down pretty well everywhere, so boat is pretty quiet even in some of those big sideways swings.

This year at the Miami Boat Show, Northern Lights announced their new Wavenet generator digital monitoring system. Wavenet was installed on Dirona a couple of months prior to the announcement in Miami to test out the gear on a busy NMEA 2000 network in real boating conditions. I was pretty impressed with Wavenet from the beginning, but sometimes that excitement fades with time or the new gear ends up being a service problem. After a half year in service, we’re still as hooked as we were on the first day.

Our main engine is a full electronic John Deere 6068AFM75 and this engine makes available on the SAE J1939 bus a huge variety of information including engine RPM, coolant temperature, percent load, fuel pressure, fuel consumption rate, oil pressure, boost pressure, torque, alternator voltage, and number of hours. We use a Maretron J2k100 J1939 to NMEA 2000 gateway to get all this data delivered to boats central NMEA 2000 backbone.

We really like having all this data available and we use it constantly when underway. But we had no data available from our Lugger L844D wing engine and Northern Lights M843NW3.3 generator. Wavenet solved this problem without any adapters or other electronics, and makes available on the NMEA 2000 bus: generator output, AC voltage, line frequency, tachometer, water temp, oil pressure, alternator voltage, and engine hours.

I would have happily paid the price of Wavenet just for the generator telemetry data to NMEA 2000, but the system also includes optional remote panels that display all the data available and, in addition, support remote one-touch start/stop. Each panel is a simple, 1 wire installation. Put a tee in the NMEA 2000 cable, attach the drop cable to the Wavenet remote panel and its operational. We ended up installing three remote panels: at the electrical panel to replace the original generator control panel, another above helm, and a third in the salon. I love being able to just reach over from my seat in the salon, without getting up, and turn off the generator, or see the current output or how long it has been running.

Technically Wavenet only supports Northern Lights generators but, if you have a Lugger wing engine as many of us with Nordhavns do and you ask the folks at Northern Lights really nicely, I suspect they would be willing to offer Wavenet for your Lugger as well. Since we have hydraulic bow and stern thrusters with the wing engine providing primary hydraulic pressure, we start and stop the wing engine quite frequently. It’s great to be able to reach up from the helm and press start as we approach a marina. I don’t have to hold down pre-heat and then start. Just touch start on the Wavenet remote panel, it signals the on-engine control unit which takes the engine through the proper preheat and start cycle. When we are done with the wing, we just touch stop on the remote panel. It’s a very nice setup for those that use the wing frequently as we do.

For safety reasons, we chose to keep the standard analog wing engine controls to ensure the engine is available even if the NMEA 2000 or Wavenet systems fail.

A side benefit of having both the wing engine and the generator controlled by Wavenet is any remote can control either engine. It turns out that I frequently turn the generator off and on with the panel that I originally installed to control the wing engine.

The three main venet wins from my perspective: 1) all engine and generator data available on NMEA 2000 bus, 2) supports remote monitoring, and 3) supports one touch remote start/stop. More on Wavenet at: http://www.northern-lights.com/PDFs/news/L575M_wavenet.pdf.

Although we hadn't run overnight before the Alaska trip, we frequently ran at night in the previous boat. And we did make a couple of night runs in the 52. The learning from those two runs proved invaluable in our 24x7 trip. We found that 1) the navigation screens were too bright, even turned down all the way with the software in night mode and 2) the steaming light illuminated the foredeck. Both impacted our night vision.

For the navigation screens, we built night-running monitor covers. These were highly effective for the trip to Alaska. Before leaving, we hadn't yet added attachments to secure the covers, and the screens did occasionally come off that first night in the Strait of Juan de Fuca when boat motion was severe. We secured them temporarily with blue masking tape that night and the following day added small velcro buttons on each side of the top edge of the monitor. The velcro has kept the covers in place even in the roughest conditions.

In dimming the monitors, we tended to go through stages as night fell. First we might put the navigation software in dusk mode and later night mode. When night mode became too bright, we'd put the covers on and switch back up to dusk or day mode. Then we'd continue dimming the modes until we had everything back into night mode. And we'd reverse those steps at dusk.

With the monitors dimmed properly, other light in the pilot house became more intrusive. This was less noticeable on the Puget Sound night runs in the 52, partly because there was more ambient light. But in the Alaska trip we also needed to dim the VHF radios, the autopilot, and the stabilizers, FLIR, hydraulics control panels. We even put a piece of blue tape over the small red light on the Mathers control.

The other night vision issue was that steaming light illuminated the foredeck. Emerald Harbor built a marineboard shield which solved the problem. They also built one for our forward-facing floodlight. Our experience with fishing boats is that the floodlight can be seen from much greater distances in the fog than the navigation lights. It's not particularly helpful, however, for spotting debris in the water.

We had red lights installed in the pilot house, galley, and day head when the boat was built. When running at night with significant ambient light, we'll put the red lights on everywhere. But on the run to and from Alaska, we found even the red lights in the pilot house too bright, and kept them off underway, turning them on only briefly during a watch change. We even disabled the two forward-most pilot house red lights, finding them too bright period. Having red lights always on in the galley and day head was convenient though, for quick runs down below. We also found a red flashlight handy to study something inside without ruining our night vision, or for the person off-watch berth to read by and not illuminate the pilot house.

For collision-avoidance at night, particularly in the fog, we relied heavily on radar and AIS: Furuno DRS25A 25kw 6.5' and DRS6A 6kw 4' open-array antennas and an FA150 Class A transponder. We passed perhaps thirty boats at night on the trip up. All came through clearly on radar and about five were fishing vessels that did not transmit on AIS. All the rest, mainly cruise ships, showed up on AIS typically about ten miles away. Night traffic was similar on the return trip, except off Barkley Sound, where we passed through during a fishing opening. None of the fleet were transmitting AIS, and we had to be vigilant to keep a safe distance.

We do have a FLIR Navigator thermal imager, and find it effective at picking things out where the temperatures differ. For example, it clearly resolved near-submerged glacial ice chunks that were difficult to see with the naked eye. But on the offshore run, there just wasn't much out there for it to pick up. We encountered almost no floating debris, logs or otherwise, and our rule at night was to not get within two miles of another boat, which is well beyond our FLIR's range of about a half mile.

The picture below is the north-up radar image off the west coast of Vancouver Island. Our boat is at the center of the screen, the large green circles are 4 nautical miles apart, the blue triangles are AIS targets, the white circle with a line is an ARPA target, and the white diamonds are lost ARPA targets. Approaching us are the cruise ships Sapphire Princess (12 miles away to our northwest), Oosterdam (11 miles north), Norwegian Pearl (8 miles northeast) and Celebrity Infinity (12 miles south). The fishing vessel Island Joy is about 7 miles south. And 8 miles southeast, in the clump of one ARPA target and several lost ARPA targets, the Canadian I is heading south.

We've been ordering a seemingly endless number of supplies and spare parts for the boat, ranging from fuel filters to zincs to alternators to pumps, and even a spare inverter. Stowing it all has been a big job. The boat has a large amount of storage space in various lockers, bilges and other spaces, but most are irregularly-shaped. To maximize the storage space in an accessible way, and keep the spares safe from damage, we use Really Useful Boxes. The boxes are straight-sided, so don't waste space; are see-through, so we easily can see the contents; and are strong, so can handle heavier parts without shattering. And they come in about 50 sizes, ranging from 0.7L to 145L, so we usually can find a box, or combination of boxes, to make the most efficient use of any space.

In the flybridge brow, we use 5 64L boxes, and other sizes, to store lighter spares such as fuel and watermaker filters:

We've used a variety of sizes in the irregular area under the stairs down to the stateroom:

In the lazarette, we've got two stacks of 64L boxes, with a 33L on top. The two 64L boxes have a particularly handy feature in that the front folds down, so we can access the contents without destacking them. We've them held in place with bungee cord, but we easily can unhook the bungee to slide the whole stack out of the way:

The open-front 14L boxes are ideal for storing shoes:

In all, we've probably got 100 of the boxes in various sizes stashed around the boat, and we keep ordering more. We buy them from Office Depot, which carries a limited selection, and online at http://www.reallyusefulproducts.co.uk/usa/.

One of the things we learned from our trip to Alaska is that 24x7 operation with a double-handed crew is achievable for us, and with reasonable comfort. We arrived at the end of the run feeling alert and well-rested. In planning for the trip, we researched aspects of running a boat 24x7, ranging from watchkeeping to food preparation. Most of the literature is written by and for sailboaters who were crossing oceans. Although much did apply in our case we, found that some of the concerns, such as watch comfort, were less of a concern for us because our helm is inside at the pilothouse where conditions are comfortable, warm and dry.

For watchkeeping, we wanted a system that would allow someone awake and at the helm at all times. Although the ocean is lightly-enough populated that some cruisers, notably single-handers, sleep for short periods and leave the boat to run on its own, we don't view that as sufficiently safe. Our decision is to have someone at the helm all the time.

In The Voyager's Handbook, Beth Leonard interviewed 13 cruising couples on their watchkeeping practices. Many started off with a 2-hour shift schedule for the entire 24-hour period, but as they gained experience, most evolved to scheduled watches of 4 or more hours overnight and no strict schedule during the day, so long as someone always was on watch. The Dashews use a three-hour system, while the Flanders use a four-hour schedule. Both have informal watches during daylight. The sleeping habits of the crew also can influence the schedule. For example, some people can get sufficient sleep in 2-hour chunks over a 24-hour period, where others need to sleep for longer periods at a stretch to feel sufficiently rested.

We initially planned to do 3 4-hour night watches and informal day watches, using the Flanders' model, with James taking the first watch at 8pm. In practice, we ended up doing the opposite. It turned out that I could sleep pretty much anytime, day or night, whereas James had difficulty sleeping during the day. After a couple of days, we evolved to a schedule where we'd run a formal night watch schedule of 3 4-hour shifts between 8pm and 8am. I took the first and last shifts, and James took the helm from midnight to 4am. After I came off-shift at 8am we'd have breakfast together, then I slept for 2-3 hours, we'd have lunch together, I'd sleep for another 2-3 hours, and we'd have dinner together before starting formal night watch shifts. We kept this same schedule on the way back down, and likely will adopt it on future trips.

We also were concerned about someone drifting off when on watch. To avoid this, we used our autopilot watch alarm set on a 5-minute interval. It sounds a beep whenever the control panel isn't touch for 5 minutes. We also purchased a backup alarm, but in practice didn't need it.

James found the graveyard shift, from midnight to 4am, a little tiring. Spitfire, however, loved it. In foggy conditions, we turned on a large floodlight mounted high on the stack. Our experience with fishing boats is that the spotlight is visible from much greater distances in the fog than the navigation lights. Particularly when the floodlight was on, seabirds buzzed the boat and Spitfire charged back and forth along the dash top chasing them. Both James and Spitfire were ready to sleep by the time 4am rolled around. Pictured below is the graveyard shift crew, sleeping off watch.

Dirona has plenty of storage space—we’ve not yet come close to filling all the lockers despite living aboard. But it is a boat, and storage space is at a premium. So we’re always looking for ways to make the most efficient use of the space we have. When we visited the yard during construction, one of the items on our checklist was to add lockers in any inaccessible void spaces, or to modify standard lockers to make best use of the space available.  

As we organized the galley, one product we’ve found useful is Seville Classics iron expandable kitchen shelf. We’ve purchased five so far, and keep finding new uses for them. We initially got one for the locker above the washer/dryer that we use as a pantry:    

Then one for the dry-goods locker above the port counter:    

And another for the shelf below the port counter:    

And one for for our mugs and glasses cupboard above the main counter:    

Recently, we realized one would fit in the appliance garage behind the stove:

Seville Classics also has an iron two-tier shelf. By some fluke of luck, two fit exactly into our center overhead cupboard and really maximize our use of that space:

The shelves have little friction, so we’ve glued on non-skid material to keep things from shifting.

For dishes and coffee mugs, we are using Aspen from Crate and Barrel. We had Aspen coffee cups in storage from our house and brought them aboard the new boat. Before we put non-skid in the cupboards, the mugs had survived sliding and banging into each other so well that we decided to buy the plates and bowls too. So far they’re working out well. The bowls are a little on the large side, but are multi-purpose.

We purchased the shelves from our local Bed, Bath and Beyond store, but they also are available from Amazon.com.

We have three Lenovo ThinkVison L1900ps for navigation monitors. They have a low-profile bezel and controls in the front, so can readily be flush-mounted into the pilot-house dash. The display is crisp and clear, and we're very happy with them. But we found they were a little bright for night running, even with the screen brightness turned down and the chart plotter in night mode. So we needed some kind of dimming cover.

We wanted something that would be simple to use, and in particular wouldn't require dimming the monitor itself. We couldn't find a commercially-available product, so we asked Tap Plastics for a quote on building custom covers. The price turned out to be quite reasonable: ~$25 for two 1/8" pieces of transparent solar grey acrylic bonded together to form a corner.

We had one built as a test and it fit perfectly. The monitors were still a little bright, however, so we added AT-5 (Limo) auto tint film to the covers and that solved the problem. With the covers in place, the monitors are acceptably dim, even with the chart plotter in day mode. And should we want additional light-reduction, we can change to dusk or night mode. The screens fit snuggly over the display and stay in place without attachment, although we do plan to add velcro attachments to secure them in rougher water.

We've found the covers handy when moored as well. We usually have a couple of monitors on to display weather and other data, but they are a little bright for sitting in the pilot house in the evening with the lights dimmed. Instead of turning off the monitors and losing the information display, we can just drop the covers in place.

Below is a shot taken before and after the cover is in place, with no adjustment made to the display brightness.

Last year, Bayliner Magazine interviewed us for a story about our travels and experiences aboard Dirona, our Bayliner 4087 (article). Soon we will take delivery of a Nordhavn 52, and turn the 4087 over to new owners.

We are, of course, eager to have the Nordhavn, but are not desperate to get off the 4087. Dirona has been a wonderful boat, far exceeding our expectations. We would not sell Dirona if it weren't for our desire to get into longer range cruising. For coastal cruising, it's near perfect. At 7.75 knots, it burns only 2.2 gallons per hour, making it even more economic than many trawlers. The basic design has been ideal, with sufficient space to allow rigging for comfortable and independent cruising (Dirona specifications and features). It’s been our home for the past year (Living aboard: one year later), and has taken us to some amazing places over the past decade. Since purchasing it new in 1999, we’ve put 4,100 trouble-free hours on the engines travelling between Olympia and the Alaska border, including the West Coast of Vancouver Island, the Outside Passage, and Christmas trips to Desolation Sound, Princess Louisa Inlet, and the Broughtons. We have used the boat in all of the research for Waggoner sister publication Cruising the Secret Coast, and our published articles.

While both our families had boats, it wasn’t until we bought the 4087 that we became seriously hooked on boating to the point where we have sold everything that won’t fit aboard, and can’t imagine life without a boat. Dirona has had a major impact on our lifestyle and future plans, and it is with some wistfulness that we prepare to leave it behind.