Here in Southern California, hauling a boat out is easy to put off. It had been nearly four years for Thelonious II, and the hull was showing gray barrier coat underneath its hard black bottom paint. A dive service cleans the hull monthly, and I often wondered how much paint the divers were scrubbing off with their performance of flapping fins and ostentatious, hard-working bubbles.
Old shaft seal
My PSS dripless shaft seal was about 10 years old, which is a bit past the recommended maintenance schedule. A dripless seal replaces the traditional stuffing box, which relies on compressed fiber and requires a low rate of intentional dripping for lubrication. The dripless units use a rubber bellows to compress a stainless rotor against a carbon flange. Lubrication is contained and no water enters the bilge. My old PSS let sea water enter from the shaft, a simple solution I wanted to retain. The yard disagreed, citing PSS recommendations for the addition of a small through-hull and dedicated water line.
When a yacht is hauled out and in the hands of a yard, the best course of action is to just shrug and go along. I learned that from rotator cuff surgery years ago, when as I descended into anesthesia I felt my friend, Dr. Bert Mandelbaum, shaking me back awake. "Hey!" Bert said, "You can't amend this form! You can't write on here that only work on the rotator cuff is approved!" I remember the sounds of nurses laughing as I had to groggily sign a new form.
So I shrugged and went along with the new through-hull.
New PSS shaft seal
To renew or replace a dripless shaft seal means detaching the propeller shaft from the coupling and moving it back a foot so to have room to work. The coupling connects the shaft to the transmission and, in its bilge environment, is often rusted and frozen. Mine appeared in good shape, and before haul-out I had put some PB Blaster on the bolts and set screws in anticipation of yard work.
When Dr. Mandelbaum opened my shoulder, he found no problem. When Scott Simmer of The Boat Yard in Marina del Rey opened up my coupling, he found the coupling distorted, the key twisted, and the keyway partially buggered. "The shaft is being held only by the set screws," said Fernando, the amiable boat mechanic billed out at $135 an hour. I spoke quickly, so as not to use much of his valuable time:
"Yeah, well, but," I countered, " I don't see why you couldn't just, you know, do what what I would do, maybe just file down the keyway, jam a new key in, ought to be good, because otherwise, uh, well, jeez, you'd have to take off the quadrant and drop the rudder and...."
I listened for laughing, but Scott and Fernando had done this surgery before and dealt with patients like me. They just nodded and sympathized. And then the rudder got dropped and the shaft got sent sent out to Wilmington Iron Works, where I tracked down "Bill," the specialist to whom my case had been referred.
E381 rudder tube with quadrant removed and rudder dropped
"Now, Bill, the yard has a theory that this shaft can't be saved. I don't understand it. Why not just rout out the keyway and use a larger key? You have to make a matching keyway in the new coupling anyhow, isn't that correct? Therefore, please reexamine the shaft and consider my plan." Bill said he would.
In the movies, what happens next is the guy at the other end of the phone lights a cigarette, glances at a girlie magazine, and returns to the phone to say, "I have conferred with my colleagues and they concur with me." But I'm pretty sure Bill actually did look again my prop shaft. He called back to say that the shaft had been banging around inside the coupling for years, was distorted, and could not be saved. "Don't feel singled out, this is very common, we work on 12" shafts here with the same issue."
About then I began the transition to acceptance, which is a natural progression in the psychology of boat owners faced with stuff they can't possibly do themselves without owning a personal marine railway and a machine shop. It felt surprisingly good. It felt right, given all the miles I have put under the keel of this boat and the miles yet to come, and the relative expense of buying a new, or another, boat, of which the very thought is patently offensive, given that Thelonious II and I are perfectly suited for each other in terms of age, utility and admiration of the traditional curves of yachts, violoncellos, and any woman passing on the street. My shrug became a smile.
As the yard worked, a strong sun appeared on one of those 85-degree Santa-Ana days we get in January, and I watched my rudder blossom with bulges. I had the yard cover it with paper immediately, and the next day the bulges were gone again. The good news is that the quadrant and associated steering components passed close inspection, the hull is sound and its recent barrier coat is performing well against blisters.
Also, I now have a new cutlass bearing in the strut. The old one was worn smooth, its irrigation groves entirely gone. And the strut and shaft log have been carefully examined and certified.
It's good to see your boat in the water again. I was told to keep the RPMS down for six hours so the new dripless shaft seal can seat. I am to tell the dive service not to scrub the bottom for two or three months, because the Petit Trinidad hard bottom paint takes that long to fully cure. Oh, and if anything seems amiss, "do call the yard for immediate attention."
For the record, here's what stuff costs in 2021:
Haul out and launch, $411.
Labor, clean, fill and apply2 coats bottom paint, $1,275.
Paint cost @ $312. gallon, $936.
R&R prop shaft, replace cutlass bearing, 6 hrs. @ $135, $810.
Drop rudder and reinstall, 6 hrs. @ $135, $810.
Fabricate new shaft face, coupling, prop keys, $950
PSS dripless, $425.
Including rags, gloves, etc., total with tax, $6,300.
Video clips of the haul out here.
