Last night I knew I was cutting things close. Not much gas in the skiff. Maybe I can make it home and back to town, not likely.
This morning I grabbed a few things and stuffed them in my backpack. The dogs knew that meant I was heading out. No working computer at home, that's another story. The phones won't take a charge either. Two phones, five batteries, five battery chargers. What kind of Bermuda Triangle of electronics have I entered?
New moon low tide. I pulled the lightweight skiff out of muck. I had pulled her close to shore to prevent her from sinking in case in rained. Although Saturday I had improvised a bilge pump arrangement it was really sketch. Purchasing a bilge pump, a float switch, battery connectors, a section of hose, a through hull fitting, a wire nut, some screws. a stainless steel push plate for a door, some hose clamps and some liquid dialectric. I bolted the switch and the pump to the plate, wired up the switch, put on the terminals and returned to hook it up to my boat. It was rainining hard. Mel was bailing the skiff, good thing else it would have found bottom.
In any event, it was time to secure this bilge pump, clean up the wiring, put in the through hull fitting in place, secure the wiring in a tube, effect a better installation of the battery wires, hook up the motor to charge the battery while underway and then tend to my scheduled activities, of foremost priority was getting a new foot for the outboard on my panga.
Off to town then. |Well, partway. Halfway between Carenero and Colon I exhausted the gas. Soon a water taxi towed me the mile to the gas dock. I filled up the tank and pulled repeatedly. Soon the knot pulled right through the rubber pull handle. I had no washer aboard. I pumped the primer bulb repeatedly, wrapped the cord around the pull handle and pulled and pulled and pulled. I popped the cowling and grabbed a loose cable that functioned as the choke control while trying to steady the motor with a second hand and pull with a third. As I was doing this Victor, the attendant walked over. During my thrashing the discharge hose was knocked into the boat and the drain plug was pulled loose by a security chain. I was sinking. I put the plug back in, better be sure to get another today and a spare, despite having no place to store any tools, spare hoses, hose clamps, lubricant, wrenches, screwdrivers, cable ties, wire, duct tape and other items I always carry on my panga.
|It finally started and I made it to town. "Jim, can I talk with you for a minute?" What now? Need money? Mom in the hospital? Oh, you want me to repair your computer. Shit, it's not like I don't have a huge backlog of my own stuff to take care of.
I am getting worn out. I need a break.
This morning I grabbed a few things and stuffed them in my backpack. The dogs knew that meant I was heading out. No working computer at home, that's another story. The phones won't take a charge either. Two phones, five batteries, five battery chargers. What kind of Bermuda Triangle of electronics have I entered?
New moon low tide. I pulled the lightweight skiff out of muck. I had pulled her close to shore to prevent her from sinking in case in rained. Although Saturday I had improvised a bilge pump arrangement it was really sketch. Purchasing a bilge pump, a float switch, battery connectors, a section of hose, a through hull fitting, a wire nut, some screws. a stainless steel push plate for a door, some hose clamps and some liquid dialectric. I bolted the switch and the pump to the plate, wired up the switch, put on the terminals and returned to hook it up to my boat. It was rainining hard. Mel was bailing the skiff, good thing else it would have found bottom.
In any event, it was time to secure this bilge pump, clean up the wiring, put in the through hull fitting in place, secure the wiring in a tube, effect a better installation of the battery wires, hook up the motor to charge the battery while underway and then tend to my scheduled activities, of foremost priority was getting a new foot for the outboard on my panga.
Off to town then. |Well, partway. Halfway between Carenero and Colon I exhausted the gas. Soon a water taxi towed me the mile to the gas dock. I filled up the tank and pulled repeatedly. Soon the knot pulled right through the rubber pull handle. I had no washer aboard. I pumped the primer bulb repeatedly, wrapped the cord around the pull handle and pulled and pulled and pulled. I popped the cowling and grabbed a loose cable that functioned as the choke control while trying to steady the motor with a second hand and pull with a third. As I was doing this Victor, the attendant walked over. During my thrashing the discharge hose was knocked into the boat and the drain plug was pulled loose by a security chain. I was sinking. I put the plug back in, better be sure to get another today and a spare, despite having no place to store any tools, spare hoses, hose clamps, lubricant, wrenches, screwdrivers, cable ties, wire, duct tape and other items I always carry on my panga.
|It finally started and I made it to town. "Jim, can I talk with you for a minute?" What now? Need money? Mom in the hospital? Oh, you want me to repair your computer. Shit, it's not like I don't have a huge backlog of my own stuff to take care of.
I am getting worn out. I need a break.
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