Out of Time

By David Hadley

down the coast and eventually out to the open Pacific. But in 2022 those wind patterns changed and what was typically a small zone of high pressure with no wind became an ever-expanding area covering hundreds of square miles.

BEFORE THE RACE we gathered in Victoria’s Inner Harbour aboard SV New Haven, our 38-foot Baltic offshore racer-cruiser, and motored to the start line in quiet fog. The six of us on board had trained together for the past year for this biannual event. We’d bought new sails, lithium batteries, even a battery-powered freshwater maker. We joked we’d be the only race team able to have daily showers as we crossed the Pacific.

Our team members have different sailing skills. Tim and I are the racers and love trimming sails constantly for that extra 1/10th of a knot. Lee and Jason are masters of the foredeck, they are physical and tireless, and even in darkness know which lines belong to each sail. Doug is our navigation and weatherman and Bart is our systems guru, constantly monitoring our engine, our electrical and solar systems.

For the first four days we made slow progress down the Washington coast. We’d started with 110 litres of fuel and 280 of freshwater. More than enough for a 16-day crossing. But by the fifth day we were still at the Oregon border, and with 2,000 miles still to go we had no chance of completing the race unaided within the required 19 days. We’d used too much fuel for charging batteries and running our water-maker and had been wastefully charging our phones, checking emails and weather. With no sign of wind, we decided to abandon the racing class and join the recreational Lahaina class that allowed competitors to use engines for propulsion. We now had about 30 hours of engine time left. With that we could motor a couple of hundred miles or recharge our batteries but we couldn’t do both. To save energy, we turned off lights, our fridge and freezer and minimized email and radio communication.

ALL THE NEXT day, we used most of our fuel to motor until we eventually found a steady 15-knot breeze. But as the wind built and we began to surf down the backs of waves, Doug began to feel seasick. As the team doctor I checked on him, gave him some antinausea medicine and a barf bucket and left him to recover. Jason also was suffering. He’d had days of poor sleep and had deep bags under his eyes but, would rise without complaint for every sail change. Sleep is tough as the crew on deck needs to keep adjusting sails, winches click with a loud metallic noise that carries through the fibreglass and every wave is felt more when curled into a tiny bunk.

As light crept into the morning sky we were well south of San Francisco and far offshore. Bart and I handed the watch over to the morning crew before crawling into damp bunks. Soon the wind was gusting to 25 knots and New Haven was being dragged chaotically up and through the backs of waves. Tim called for a sail change, and while he and I kept the boat steady Bart, Lee and Jason battled to change our large headsail for a smaller storm spinnaker. As we’d surf down tall waves, our boat would surge occasionally to well over 10 knots—crazy speeds for a boat weighed down with six guys and their gear.

For three days the wind blew. The sky stayed dark with thick clouds. We lived in our storm gear with the added weight of strobes, electronic beacons and flares. From below deck, we heard those on deck clipping and unclipping their safety harnesses as they moved about. Ten to 12-foot waves lift us up for a chance to look around at the chaotic sea before dumping us into a trough where we can see only the peaks of waves above us. We’ve tried to keep things organized but after two days, every cup, bag and book has been tossed back and forth so many times we’re unable to keep up with the mess.

As the storm has built, we’ve changed or reefed sails numerous times. Each sail change is hard work and risky for the deck crew. We’ve shortened our mainsail to the third reef line leaving only a small triangle of mainsail and a tiny jib to keep us racing but in control during this storm.

With Doug still out of commission and barfing in a white plastic pail we’ve had no communication with the race committee. We’ve eaten little these past three days as the boat’s constant rolling makes cooking a challenge. I made some fried rice, added raw eggs and doused it in olive oil for extra calories. We’re now 1,600 miles from Lahaina.

Optimistically we calculate we could arrive in nine days if we average seven knots—something we haven’t done since the race began.

ON DAY NINE we sailed out of the storm and into another dead zone of high pressure. This one stretching for miles around us. We drift for another two days like this. Our sails limp, the boat still. As we seek shelter from the intense sun, we talk constantly of how to manage our low fuel supply. We no longer have enough to motor to wind and even if we could, we’d then have nothing left to make water and to charge our batteries. We have only about a dozen hours of engine time left and need at least 20 minutes each day just to make our water. We’ll wait and drift in the middle of the ocean. But after 10 days, we’re only halfway to Hawaii and in a bit of a predicament.

We remain becalmed halfway between Victoria and Maui. The sea like glass, the colour of a bruise. We’ve been cursed by little wind for much of the 11-day trip. Who says it won’t last another 11? We’ll be out of power, food and water. As we drift, I wash dishes and clothes in buckets of salt water. It’s therapeutic. Doing something is better than sitting still. It’s better than addressing the slow worry that comes back every time the wind dies.

That night we use our satellite phone to call a sailor-friend back home. He has the experience and information we need and tells us to head due south, take the long route, get the hell out of where we are. It’s good advice but feels a bit like being told to shuffle slowly away from a charging tiger.

BY DAY 13 we crossed the southern limit of the massive high-pressure zone. For the first time in days we had sustained wind. Finally, we’re sailing well and making good speed. In the evening we indulged, knowing our fresh food won’t keep. We open packages of breakfast sausages that are bursting with flavour. Tim cooks them on the barbecue wearing a chef’s hat and brandishing a spatula. They’re fantastic and his show of high morale is contagious. We devour them by hand, our fingers soaked with grease. And to top it off, Bart, the master of all things mechanical, pronounces he will catch a fish and save us from starvation. We entertain his dream which seems wildly unrealistic as he has just a hand line and no weight to sink his hook. As we sail in a light breeze we can see the pink lure skipping uselessly along the surface. And yet he does. The line goes taut, our spool jumps and Bart pulls in the most beautiful, snubnosed mahi mahi. We cheer and yell. We’re all a bit Lord-of-the-Flies-ish. We land it, grill it quickly and devour it within minutes. We are kings!

POWERED BY FULL mainsail and the “dragon,” our huge red and black asymmetrical spinnaker, New Haven surges through the waves. We are joined by flying fish and by a pod of small porpoises playing effortlessly in our bow wave.

That night an intense storm squall hit us. In a matter of a minute or two the wind doubled, then doubled again and is soon well over 30 knots. We are blown off course and into the valleys of rollers. The wind swirls and slams into the back of our mainsail stopping us dead in the water. Our main is held in place though by a safety line to prevent the boom from accidentally striking one of us. With it in place, we can’t spill the wind’s tremendous power. The spinnaker is no longer filled with a light breeze from astern but with a growling wind from abeam. We’ve lost all steerage and within seconds the storm has knocked New Haven on its side. Water pours into the cockpit. Tim, Bart and I scramble now upwards to the starboard side and see our mast lying horizontally on the waves. A life jacket that had been lashed to the lifelines is held underwater and automatically inflates, its flashing strobe light adding to the surreal mood.

BELOW DECK OUR teammates have been tossed awake and fumble to make sense in the darkness and mayhem of our home, now completely sideways in the water.

“Stay inside. Keep things tight. We’ve got this,” Tim says in a surprisingly conversational tone.

He and I reach upwards, straining in the darkness to find the lines we need to release. Pulling myself upwards I stand on something solid in the pitch black to reach above me to the starboard deck, feel for the taut preventer line and release it. The boom comes thundering across and into the water on the port side. While Tim releases the spinnaker afterguy, I attempt to release the sheet. But a knot in the rope has jammed the cleat and under tremendous load I can’t release it. Only when I cut the line and it snaps free with the sound of a pistol crack can we depower both sails, and New Haven, as if waking slowly from a long nap, stands upright again.

“Screw you squall!” we scream jubilantly. “Is that all you’ve got?”

But it’s not. As a parting gift, the storm tears our beautiful “beast” to shreds and washes another spinnaker, poorly secured on deck, into the black of the sea. By now, the guys below are in their gear and safety harnesses and head to the bow to wrestle down our shred- ded “beast.” Doug contacts the US Coast Guard hundreds of miles away to advise them to disregard the automatic SOS radio signal our submerged life jacket has been sending out. Tim and I take familiar positions in the cockpit, racing downwind to keep the boat level and safe for the deck crew.

By morning the squall has moved on. All six of us work together to restore order, but we are all spent, completely exhausted and needing rest.

AFTER THREE WEEKS we are within 100 miles of Hawaii. Sailing conditions are finally perfect with a steady, warm wind and large 15-foot rolling swells to surf down. Although we have no fuel, are out of food and will be the last boat to cross the finish line we feel triumphant as we bring our vessel home.

Long after nightfall we find shelter in the calm waters of Lahaina Harbour. Cheerful people from the race commit- tee boat pass us jerry cans of diesel. As we motor slowly to the marina, we ready our fenders and prepare finally to step ashore. But we hear instead, while still far from shore a soft but rising chant, “Ah-lo-ha New Haven. Ah-loha!”

Who can this be? Who would be here, so late at night to greet us, long after other racers have gone home? Some of our friends and family members have gathered and with them are local sailors and the curious onlookers who at this late hour welcome us home as heroes. They shower us with magnums of champagne, drape sweet-smelling leis around our bowed heads and kiss our cheeks. As we stand on deck I look at Bart. He, like I, has tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It’s the champagne” I lie. “I got some in my eye.”

“I know,” he says hugging his wife and daughter. “So did I.”

TIARA REFIT

Breathing

By Mark MacLean

HHaving owned a Tiara 2500 in the early ’80s, I had always loved the lines and comfort of the larger 3100 Tiara Open Model. My friend and cruising buddy Baird Tewksbury (formerly a contributing Pacific Yachting photojournalist) owned the first 3100 Tiara in Vancouver. His boat Result was, in my view, the best all-round, sub-35-foot boat for the Pacific waters of BC. It had great styling, a nice layout and good seaworthiness—making it perfect for our needs.

Initially, my partner Romney and I considered buying a sailboat as an alternative to finding an island property, but I was also keenly aware that while I had done extensive sailing and racing over the years, Romney was a novice sailor, and would be at potential risk in the unlikely event that something happened to me.

We liked the idea of visiting various friends who have places on Gambier, Salt Spring, Savary, Hernando and Hornby islands, while having our own comfortable place to stay. I also wanted a boat fast and comfortable enough to go further afield into Desolation Sound, the Broughtons and even as far as Shearwater.

A boat that can accommodate six for drinks, four for dinner and sleeps two with safety, speed and comfort were our priorities. We started looking at powerboat options which very quickly returned me to the market for a Tiara 3100. It seemed every time we found a 3100 it had already sold, giving me confidence that even older Tiaras are still in high demand given their reputation and build quality.

The Purchase

I was confident David Campbell at Freedom Marine knew what was what. Sure enough, after missing out on a few that were on the market in early 2022 David gave us a tip that DIVA might be coming on the market. The boat was registered at Royal Vancouver Yacht Club, so I pulled out the yearbook and called the owner, Peter Graham, who in fact turned out to be a distant family member through mar- riage. After a phone call with Peter and a subject offer, Romney and I went to RVYC Coal Harbour and had our first look at DIVA. I was in love!

The boat was in reasonable shape cosmetically, apart from the dated interior. But the engine and mechanical wear and tear was basically unknown. We invested in a full mechanical review by Joe Torres at Torres Marine, together with a structural hull and condition report from Aegis Marine

Surveyors. Both reports confirmed that the boat was very sound, but the original equipment and systems needed upgrades.

Our June 2022 purchase agreement with Peter was made based on a reduced price from the original offer to reflect the considerable investment on our part to bring the boat up to a condition that, most importantly, would meet for insurance requirements, but also to satisfy my OCD standards for safety and reliability.

Too late in the 2022 season to start any major refit program, Romney and I decided to use the boat for short trips over the summer, which also gave us the time and opportunity to learn which systems needed replacement sooner than later.

We enjoyed some good cruising days, but a series of problems arising largely from old marine hoses and manifolds—which tend to be the weak link in salt water-based yachts—started getting in the way of our rest and relaxation plans. One incident required a Coast Guard escort from mid Salish Sea to Sechelt for repairs as the exhaust elbow had disintegrated leaving us with a bilge full of salt water.

FALL AND WINTER 2022/2023

Working on older Crusader Marine engines is not difficult, but finding someone with the right experience is very tricky. We were very lucky to be introduced to Luke Gordon, the father-in-law of one of my work colleagues. Luke is a lifelong adventurer, skilled mechanic and enthusiast of anything with a motor. Growing up in Australia, he was fascinated with mechanics from a young age. He has completed extensive formal training on two continents with unparalleled real-life experience on automobiles, motorcycles, boats, airplanes and their accessories. If it has a motor, Luke can fix it.

Luke and I discussed at length our wish to bring DIVA up to date in terms of reliability and safety and he agreed to help me by managing the refit plan together with one of his expert engine friends, Davin Lillie, who is based in Nanaimo.

The major decision to be made was the engines. Crusader 454 Marine engines are very good engines but with a fresh sheet of paper we briefly flirted with the idea of repowering DIVA with diesel engines for reliability and fuel performance. After looking at the loss of performance and the cost of new diesels, we considered new Mercruiser replacement engines. Again, the cost was prohibitive. After reviewing all the Tiara owners’ forums, (which are very informative) it was clear that looking at diesel power or other gas engine platforms was a non-starter.

The next debate was to rebuild or replace. Clearly, new sounds better, but in fact, using the original engines was our preference because of the numerous horror stories I had heard surrounding the fit of new engines aligning with mounts, transmission and shafts. With a rebuild you don’t have to worry about moving the engine mounts or adjusting the shafts, its plug and play (so to speak).

Next, we needed a good machine shop to do the job. Luke had experience with Island D Automotive in Nanaimo, who have a very good reputation for rebuilding engines to a high standard and who warranty their work. We decided to go with them.

Timing was our next issue. We wanted to minimize the cost and inconvenience of having DIVA out of the water, so we mapped out the process for the rebuild in hopes of accomplishing just that.

INTERIOR REFIT— FEBRUARY TO MARCH

Replacing the original worn and very dated fabric on the interior cushions was one of our winter projects. We went with a standard Sunbrella fabric in a neutral colour to complement the lovely teak interior. In our view, one of the great advantages of older Tiaras is the generous use of wood in the interior, giving the boat a warm, marine look unlike many of the newer plastic interiors that in my view can be a bit unwelcoming.

Vancouver Upholstery, a locally owned, third-generation family business took our old cushions and forward cabin mattress and did a beautiful job of giving the DIVA interior a fresh look.

The interior head liner was in very good condition but was dingy and showed a bit of wear likely from having never been cleaned. Romney’s careful hand cleaning with a simple mixture of vinegar and water brought it right back to new condition.

The teak interior doors and bulkheads were all in good conditions with no blemishes associated with older boats. A little TLC with a few coats of teak oil treatment brought back the deep lustre of the interior.

“I’ve gone through rough water like this before.”

“The channel is wide enough for both of us.”

“I won’t fall in. I’ve got good balance.”

“I don’t need a chart. I’ve been there before.”

“We’ve got plenty of fuel.”

“I’ve been boating for years. I don’t need to take a course.”

“Don’t worry - the water here is very shallow.”

“I’m fine. I only had a few beers.”

“I don’t need a PFD. I’m a good swimmer.”

“I’m just a small boat. I don’t need all that extra safety gear.”

“The water isn’t that cold.”

THE SHIPYARD CHOICE—APRIL 2023

Stones Marine Services was selected as our haul-out location. Stones is close to Island D and indeed all the other marine services in the Nanaimo area. What became apparent over the next seven weeks was that Nanaimo has become a hub for many small and specialised parts and equipment suppliers.

DIVA was hauled out on April 3 and work started the following week to carefully remove all the engine components, wiring, hoses and electrics so they could crane the engine out on April 13.

Each part was removed, carefully marked with a digital printer tape, and set in a series of bins for starboard and port engines to make sure we had everything in order. The old manifolds, hoses, fuel lines and exhaust elbows were removed, and the engines stripped down to the short blocks ready for delivery to Warren Watkins and his great team at Island D Automotive.

An Empty Hole

I must admit I had moments of terror watching 500 pounds of greasy metal coming out of the engine room, suspended by what looked like a very under capacity chain hovering over my beautiful white cockpit. However, protected by two sheets of plywood and careful manipulation by our team, both engines came out with no damage, other than one of Luke’s fingers getting pinched.

Once out, the next big job was to deal with 30 years of oil, grease, anti- freeze, rust and a tangle of wiring that needed upgrading. We also took the opportunity to remove the old water heater that Tiara had poorly located outboard of the starboard engine, making it impossible to repair or service.

THE CLEAN-UP AND UPGRADE

Over the course of the next four weekends, Romney and I spent time cleaning the engine room spaces. We also removed the old water and sump pumps and ground wiring and replaced them with new ones on the basis that if you have the engines out and can get to the nooks and crannies you might as well use this time to make any improvements and upgrades to the original systems.

While the engine hatch decking was out of the boat, we also fitted new Noiko adhesive sound deadening material to the underside to lower the engine noise and vibration. What a difference!

Finding OEM parts to replace the old, rusted exhaust systems was a challenge. It is nearly impossible to find the original exhaust parts, and if you do they are incredibly expensive, so we went to work finding a machine shop that could manufacture parts.

After Luke made 30 calls, we finally found Mac Automotive Exhaust in Surrey who copied the original exhaust manifold elbows and the T joints that mix the starboard and port exhaust into the muffler. We used aluminized steel as the replacement material and then had them ceramic coated at Kool Coat in Burnaby to make sure they manage heat more efficiently.

They will never need replacing and they look fantastic.

The Blue Babies Return

The engine rebuilds took a few weeks longer than we had anticipated, mostly due to supply chain issues for replacement parts and the crankshaft replacement, but it gave us time to give the boat new bottom paint, improved zincs and a much overdue cut wax finish on the hull.

Romney oversaw stripping all the old varnish off the teak with a heat gun and sander, bringing the wood down to a beautiful new smooth oiled finish. Once the engine rebuilds were completed, we transported the shiny new blocks back to the shipyard on the trailer where the process of reassembly started, beginning with all new manifolds, cooling system and transmissions. Ready to go back in, we gave them a last touch up of “crusader blue” spray paint.

The Run In

It is very important with rebuilt engines to adhere to a strict “run in” procedure

(for the first 10 hours of operation at least). After a short freshwater run in for 30 minutes prior to launch, we changed the oil and gave DIVA’s new engines an oil filter and oil change.

The boat was launched, and we set the timing and adjusted the carburetors, so the engines were purring. It was quite remarkable the difference in the smooth sound of the Crusaders with all new parts. Everything just sounds tight and free of vibration.

The Trip Home

After seven weeks in the shipyard, on May 27, I was very keen to get DIVA back home to RVYC Coal Harbour. We wanted to take a route that gave us some protection in case of any problems with all new systems, so we carefully mapped out a route from Nanaimo Harbour through Dodd Narrows (at slack tide) into Stuart Channel and the inside passage of Valdes Island before we set out into the Salish Sea for the short 25-mile trip to the Lions Gate Bridge.

Running the boat at no more than 70 percent of max cruise speed and vary- ing the rpm for the next four hours we made it home with no issues other than a minor drip from one of the manifold bolts (now fixed).

The cost of the refit of DIVA came in exactly where I thought it might— with the exception of the added cost of a few new exhaust hoses to make everything new. If asked, “Would I do it again?” the answer is categorically yes. We had a fabulous team that gave us an almost new boat, (at a fraction of the cost of replacement) with the knowledge that we should have years of trouble-free cruising, while considerably adding value to any resale opportunity.

For a boat built in 1987, DIVA looks and feels like it just came out of Leon Slikker’s factory in Holland,

Michigan. We can’t wait to start our first trip to Desolation Sound and the Broughtons.

All that is left to do for our project to be complete is to fit the new stainless steel Whale replacement water heater in the starboard aft lazarette which facilitates easy access to any repair. And to install a deck shower to make afterswim rinsing a treat. Land and Sea Plumbing is our choice in Vancouver for this type of custom job, so in the next few weeks that will complete our plans for the refit of DIVA.

What I have enjoyed about this process is that it has allowed us to be involved in the refit project every step of the way, giving me a very good technical understanding of all our new engines and systems.

HANDS ON BOATER