WHEN OTTO GOES AWOL

BY MARTIN CHAMBERS

We are sailing off the Southwest corner of Tasmania with no particular thing to worry about. The day is ending, and we will make Port Davey before nightfall A meal, a sleep, a glorious sunrise cradled in the wilderness. We have had a day of wonder, of dolphins, of massive flocks of shearwaters, of southern ocean swell smashing whitewater against rock and headland, of the lonely white lighthouse that is Maatsuyker and the only thing for all around. A day of our own human insignificance

It is often that at such arrival after a voyage, the talk becomes philosophical. Ah! The simple life, the wind and water and a star to steer by The tiredness that refreshes Being ‘off-grid’, sailing the wide ocean being one of the few places where true escape is still a possibility.

But we kid ourselves to think we can live independently of the modern world even if we can go ‘off-grid’ for a few days, as even a recreation as outdated as wind in the sails relies on machines and technology unheard of even in the time of my youth

So the philosophical talk turns to what we can and cannot do without, and soon we have a list. And agreement

Those that we cannot live without must have a name!

Take the autopilot.

This hidden and yet most useful crew member requires no sleep and no food other than a few electrons we gather from the sun

And so Otto is born, and as if to highlight his creation, the very next day, he began to complain.

Perhaps he didn’t like that name. We came up with others, none of them suitable for print in a magazine such as this!

We made sweet talk, made adjustments, but the grumbling continued.

We spend a lot of time planning for steering or rudder failure We have stainless tiller arms should the cables break or should the rudder fall off. We have drogues or an emergency rudder cobbled from floorboards and a spinnaker pole that we know full well would never work anywhere other than the calm sea demonstration of it.

I have read of yachties that carry a spare tiller pilot, but we, because Otto was so reliable and perhaps more likely because Otto is a small grey box hidden in the crawl space behind the motor and hence easily forgot, we didn’t

And so Otto goes AWOL. Remember hand steering? You get used to it.

Pilot Bay is a delightful anchorage at the entry to Macquarie Harbour. Most might only pause here while waiting tide or wind to enter through Hells Gates, but it is worth spending some time here if the weather is good. There is a walk up to Cape Sorrel and the lighthouse, there is a great beach, and it is a good place for hanging upside down in the crawl space behind the engine and it is a great place for making satellite phone calls to autopilot part suppliers. Pilot Bay is a day sail from Strahan, but Strahan is three weeks away from any parts supply, and in any case, without pulling Otto apart, I did not know what parts to order Pulling Otto apart requires advice from Mr Google (and special tools), and Mr Google does not visit Pilot Bay.

Three of us onboard, hand steer to Adelaide? Our destination was Fremantle, so Adelaide was kind of on the way, and the chandlery in North Haven could have a whole new Otto for us by the time we got there. But hand steering. At least six days. I guess old salts will tell that was how it used to be. We discussed. The weather looked good.

The failed internals. The four planary gears are mashed and the ring gear has fractured. What failed first? My best guess is that one of the screws holding a planary gear in place has worked loose, impinged on to rotation of the ring drive. Use locktite!

Six days later, the long cold nights are forgotten, and a new Otto is installed, costing $2600 I have old Otto dismantled on the chart table.

Otto is a grey box. There is an electric motor, a clutch, a drive belt and some small plastic plenary gears. Plastic?

These gears have sheered and split, and what genius decided something that works so hard would be OK made of plastic? Oh, Father of Otto!

Anyway, after much searching, I sourced spare parts that could well be the most expensive bit of plastic ever. I reassembled it, and now we have the luxury of Ottospare!

Installing an autopilot is a relatively simple task, but carrying a spare is a costly thing The alternative is to pull yours apart in the comfort of the harbour while talking with Mr Google, source the likely spares and tools you need and carry these Our old Otto was reincarnated with about $100 of parts and $45 worth of tools. LongliveOtto!!!

Replacement parts arrived from England. Motor drives for autopilots are linear, as in tiller drive, or non linear, as in rotary like our one. I imagine other brands have similar but highly specific parts. A google search should find yours.

About the Author - Martin Chambers

I have been messing about in boats from an early age. Small dinghies as a six-year-old, competitive rowing at school, kayaking expeditions to remote places and, of course, sailing. Kerryn and I now own a Bavaria 47 and plan to be in the Kimberley this year, but before that, we will be rowing a small skiff from Recherche Bay to Hobart for the wooden boat festival When not sailing, I write I have several novels in print and as audiobooks.

'Sailing the Seven Sustainable Seas' In print, eBook, and now as an Audiobook (available on Spotify) author-martin medium com smashwords.com/profile/view/martinchambers