2008

ENGINES

It’s ’08 and the lovely Isabella and I are sailing W in the S Pacific, we’ve arrived in Fatu Hiva, Marquesas. There are, perhaps, 12 – 15 boats in the anchorage, half of which we know, having met in Panama or the Galapagos. My favorite time of day is fast approaching and happy hour coincides with the arrival of Ott and Dia, a Dutch couple, sailing a 53’ Amel, they want to talk so we invite them up and install rums in their hands. “We understand you are a mechanic” says Ott, “What is the trouble” says alleged mechanic, “On leaving the Galapagos we were sailing with a group of boats and impromptu race resulted, we all agreed not to motor, no trouble for us we used our generator for energy. But when we got here we discovered the engine had flooded with sea water in 3 cylinders, it’s probably been like that for a month.” “ Ott that engine will never turn, no matter what you do to it.” Alleged again. “Yes, I believe you’re right, we’ve got the head off and have tried everything that anyone could think of.” “What’s the engine.” Inquires alleged. “A straight 6 Volvo, naturally aspirated, 110 hp” Right, what else would it be in an older 53’ Amel, couldn’t be something small and cute like my Yanmar 3gm, pull it out in an afternoon and fix it the next day. “So, what is it I can help you with?” now cautious Alleged. “I want to rebuild it.” “Where do you see that taking place?” “nuku Hiva” comes the reply. “They have a machine shop there?” “Probably not, but it’s the nearest airport, all the parts are ordered, my son is a logistics expert and is just waiting to ship it.” Claims Ott. “Ott, that engine weighs as much as a small cow, where do you intend to do the work?” “An in cockpit rebuild, it’s a piston liner engine” exclaims Ott triumphantly. OK, I’ve spent lots of time working on 53’ Amels and the only word for both engine room and cockpit is commodious, plus it’s a ketch so we’ll have a fore and aft halyard to pull the small cow with. “Ott have you ever rebuilt an engine?” inquires Alleged. “No but I’ve read about them, I don’t see why it can’t be done, we’ve ordered all the parts including the specialized liner extraction too and enormous socket to remove the crank pulleyl” enthuses Ott, graciously accepting another rum. “Which we won’t be able to use as there are 3 pistons welded to the liners by rust, all we’ll have for tools are what I’ve got on board and they’re really not big enough for that engine, my torque wrench only goes to 150 lbs and that’s not enough for your head bolts and if the crank has been cut to an undersize the standard bearing shells won’t fit, but the rest looks good.” Protests Alleged, “I think your best bet is to sail to Tahiti and find a machine shop, they’ll have a press and you’ll be able to get the valves done and deck the head. I mean it’s a wet sleeve motor, how will we press the liners down on their O rings to get the proper height above the block.” “ We’ll think of something.” Says Ott serenely, besides, if we go to Papeetee then we’d miss the Tuamotoes” Ott presses. “Motor back and catch them.” Ott continues in this vein and after 2 hrs and a couple more rums, he’s given me the parts list ordered from Volvo, it was all there, but I was most impressed by the prices, how Volvo pulls that off has always escaped me. Finally Ott has convinced me to go to Nuku Hiva and pull the engine so we can at least try to pull it apart. Maybe it was the rum, or my desire to help a fellow cruiser, but most likely it was the fact that Thalia, Isabella and I were very nearly flat broke, the cruising kitty had less than $3,000 in it and that’s always been a magic number for me. “What are you going to charge me?” asks Ott. “$35/hr” I reply, an astronomical figure which I still don’t charge, “Why so high?” whines Ott “Because it’ll be a hurry up and wait job” “No, everything is ordered.” Says Ott plaintively “Impossible, we don’t even know what we’re going to break, your son will be sending us at least 2 more orders.” Firm Alleged now. “You’re probably right.” Says Ott, accepting a final rum. Maybe the rum is working in my favor. “I’m going to the boat and telling my son to ship the order.”

So in the morning we set out in company to sail to Nuku Hiva and the following day, dressed in my finest greasy rags, we start work. It takes a while to label and disconnect everything prior to removal of an engine, including the motor mounts. The front mounts had had seawater dripping on them possibly for decades and resisted the combination of heat and sprays, there was no oxy-acetylene cutting equipment in the anchorage, so Ott and I leaning on a pipe with my big breaker bar snapped the studs. At least I didn’t have to cut them with a hack saw. Finally the small bovine was delivered into the cockpit and sitting on thick rubber mats generously donated by my friend Steve and underlying plastic tarps and disassembly began. By now the parts had arrived and pretty soon it was time to remove the 3 rusted liner/pistons. We quickly devolved to using a full size 8 lb sledge hammer and 3 ft wrecking bar, the things some people have in their bilges, gripped with 2 pairs of vice grips in case the hammer weilder missed. After 3 hrs of continual beating by 3 of us, yeah, I recruited a friend who claimed he wanted to watch, I said “Ott, I think it’s a future mooring.” “Not a chance, I’ve got $3000 USD in parts here.” And taking the sledge he stood on the block, which was now tied down, Nuku Hiva is a touch rolly, starting beating on the piston crown that is closest to top dead centre. “Ott, if you miss and hit the block we’ve no way of decking the block” I cautioned. “Yes, whack, I, whack, know, whack” He didn’t miss and in 20 min of solid work, the vigourous 68 yr old man shifted that piston 1 mm. “Ok, you’re younger than me, finish it.” He said handing me the sledge. We finally got the 3 offending liners c/w pistons out of the engine. Ott then begged and/or bought every cutting disc on the island and anchorage, we needed to cut the liners open to recover the connecting rods.

So armed with a Volvo work shop manual in French, neither of us spoke/read French, but the pictures were nice and the torque values wereinvaluable, we proceeded to reassemble the engine. The first problem was the cam shaft, it had to be taken out to clear out the shattered pieces of piston liner skirt, the wrecking bar did a lot of jumping. The intake lobe on #1 cylinder had galled and was little more than a bump. “What are the ramifications of that?” Questions Ott. “Well fortunately it’s an intake valve so it won’t burn and lose compression, but you’re not going to get full hp from that cylinder.” “Ah hell, there’re 5 more.” Ott philophisizes. We overcome problems, invent one off tools and after just one more order arriving with needed parts , copious amounts of sweat, liberal cursing and Hinano we’re ready to lower the engine into place. Ott especially like my bringing 4 snatch blockd from Thalia so we could use his primary winches to pull the assembled engine forward onto it’s mounts. Moment of truth time, I let Ott start the engine. It sounds pretty good, after letting it warm up and cool down, I retorque the head and reset the valves that I’d lapped in while waiting for parts, that makes it sound much better. “Loose valves are happy valves” a mechanic friend of mine used to say. Ott and I sat down with a couple more Hinanos, French Polynesia’s finest, and I told him that he owed me for 72 hrs, he agreed as Dea had been the timekeeper, I’d done a bunch of smaller things on the boat while waiting for the 2nd parts order and paid me. Even Isabella got paid, she’d been doing the clean up on engine, engine room and cockpit after Ott and I had desecrated a once clean boat. The following day he presented me with a translation of the letter he had submitted to a Dutch sailing magazine detailing our in cockpit rebuild in the middle of nowhere, I came out as a star, even Isabella came out looking good, but then she always did. And on a pleasant note, the Hinano helped, we parted company, sailing off.

About 1 ½ yrs later I’m working in Pago Pago, American Samoa and boats that I knew from the Pacific crossing started drifting in for the Pan Pacific Festival in Pago Pago, they’d mostly been down to New Zealand and of course I asked about Ott and Dea who’d been to NZ as well. “Ah, everything went well until Tonga on the way back from NZ. About 1 month ago they lost the generator and were actually headed here to get you to fix it, they were running the Volvo for energy and had closed themselves up below so they didn’t have to listen to it. We were anchored about 60 yds away and we could hear their engine alarm, apparently they couldn’t. Their radio must have been off so we headed over in the dinghy as we got there, we heard a bang and silence” Ott checked the oil, or lack thereof and reviewed the connecting rod sticking through the block and said “Sh#t, George will be pissed off” said Ott.” “He’s waiting for a rebuild to be flown into Tonga.” Explained my friend.

If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’. attributed