I know my readers have been pining for an update, curious to know how the histoire du windlass has come along, and to hear more of Alicia, artist, designer and ponderer of the mysteries of life and the long distance call.
We arrived yesterday morning and parked opposite the Sandals resort hotel, close in to the reef so as not to have to pull up too much chain should the windlass repair job go awry. Also likely we will get good internet from the hotel. Regretably, the hoter only services its guests, but Alicia managed to get another connection which works just fine.
Lesson of the day: I will learn to write my copy in a local file before attempting an upload to the blog.
We have a mission to find the parts needed to fix the windlass and get a few bits at the grocery store, including, of course, the ice. This was quickly and efficiently accomplished thanks to Island Water World.
Back aboard, my nerve fails me. I am not ready to attack the job. Not enough contemplation of the subtleties has taken place. Not enough mulling has happened yet. So its over the side to scub the weeks of growth off Django’s bottom. Alicia does the shady side and I the sunny. After some short while, she announces that she will put off the work until the sun comes over to her side in the morning. Too gloomy, she says and returns to her paintings. We have discovered that the scanner aboard works and will scan some of her watercolours for you all to see.
I contemplate the windlass solenoid and two switches lade out on the saloon table. It occurs to me that the solenoid has four terminals where the old one has only three. Hmm. The hand switch comes in two parts, one of which needs mounting in a dry area. Hmm. The foot switch is identical to its replacee. Good.
With the dawn, I am determined to get on with the job. Coffee and a bit of breakfast, then lets find out the worst. First thing is too find out if Whit really did burn out the motor. Short the solenoid switch with an alligator clip on a wire. With clip safely gripping one terminal, I gingerly move the end of the wire to touch…. Oops! The windlass roars to life as the clip slips and shorts the connection all by itself. So Whit has not actually ruined the windlass… good. As I push on to dismantle connections to the solenoid, it comes apart in my hands… hmm, probably not Whit’s doing either. So Whit needs an apology, so sorry, I have made an error of insight. Whit absolved, the job proceeds slowly but surely to a conclusion sometime after beer o’clock. The windlass runs. The switches and solenoid are all brand new and looking spiffy. Just a bit more work to bring up the down chain functionality, which we didn’t have before anyway, so, success, I say.
Second lesson of the day: Mistrust midnight insight.
We arrived yesterday morning and parked opposite the Sandals resort hotel, close in to the reef so as not to have to pull up too much chain should the windlass repair job go awry. Also likely we will get good internet from the hotel. Regretably, the hoter only services its guests, but Alicia managed to get another connection which works just fine.
Lesson of the day: I will learn to write my copy in a local file before attempting an upload to the blog.
We have a mission to find the parts needed to fix the windlass and get a few bits at the grocery store, including, of course, the ice. This was quickly and efficiently accomplished thanks to Island Water World.
Back aboard, my nerve fails me. I am not ready to attack the job. Not enough contemplation of the subtleties has taken place. Not enough mulling has happened yet. So its over the side to scub the weeks of growth off Django’s bottom. Alicia does the shady side and I the sunny. After some short while, she announces that she will put off the work until the sun comes over to her side in the morning. Too gloomy, she says and returns to her paintings. We have discovered that the scanner aboard works and will scan some of her watercolours for you all to see.
I contemplate the windlass solenoid and two switches lade out on the saloon table. It occurs to me that the solenoid has four terminals where the old one has only three. Hmm. The hand switch comes in two parts, one of which needs mounting in a dry area. Hmm. The foot switch is identical to its replacee. Good.
With the dawn, I am determined to get on with the job. Coffee and a bit of breakfast, then lets find out the worst. First thing is too find out if Whit really did burn out the motor. Short the solenoid switch with an alligator clip on a wire. With clip safely gripping one terminal, I gingerly move the end of the wire to touch…. Oops! The windlass roars to life as the clip slips and shorts the connection all by itself. So Whit has not actually ruined the windlass… good. As I push on to dismantle connections to the solenoid, it comes apart in my hands… hmm, probably not Whit’s doing either. So Whit needs an apology, so sorry, I have made an error of insight. Whit absolved, the job proceeds slowly but surely to a conclusion sometime after beer o’clock. The windlass runs. The switches and solenoid are all brand new and looking spiffy. Just a bit more work to bring up the down chain functionality, which we didn’t have before anyway, so, success, I say.
Second lesson of the day: Mistrust midnight insight.
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