Hot showers are now possible on Obelix! But, beware, far from a modern life entitlement, taking a hot shower on our boat is a well deserved reward that comes only after following a precise protocol, involving lots of steps, and a fair amount of pumping, which has, let it be said, the side benefits of exercising both arms and legs, as well as limiting the water usage; to roughly 4 litres, i.e. ten times less than the average 4-minute conventional shower.
Pump at the bottom of the bilge with a sink strainer fitted to prevent hair getting stuck
Process steps:
Pump water to fill the kettle (foot pump under the sink, approx. 15 up and down foot actions required)
Put the kettle to boil (manually switch on the gas with a long neck lighter)
Poor hot water in the garden sprayer
Pump water to fill the kettle (15 more up and down foot actions)
Poor cold water in the garden sprayer
Pump water to fill the kettle (15 more up and down foot actions)
Poor cold water in garden sprayer – you read correctly, one has to repeat the operation to get the proper temperature, and it’d better be right because there is no way to adjust it once in the shower 😅
Remove the carpet in the head (bathroom)
Pump to pressurise the garden sprayer (approx. 10 manual actions required)
Pull the curtains around you to protect the bathroom (the shower is between the toilet and the sink)
Press the spray (shower position) to get the water flowing
Wash
Press the spray to rinse (you might have to pump again to get more pressure at this stage)
Clean up the floor with the shower squeegee to get most of the water down to the bilge
Switch on the electric pump to get the water from the bilge to the bathroom sink
Switch off the pump
Put the dehumidifer on as the bathroom is probably by now full of steam and there is no window!
DONE!
A ceremony we don’t indulge in daily (we have our french reputation to uphold after all!) but a luxury we really do enjoy when the weather is bad (or we’re lazy) and the stroll to the marina ablution block just feels too much of a hassle. It is also a lot more convincing for the young Padawans, who, at this stage, are not asked to prepare their shower themselves, and we don’t need to look for $2 coins!!!
In the last few weeks, while I was indulging my parallel life as a dance addict (3 classes and 3 social dancing events of salsa, bachata, kizomba, tango and african dance in the last week alone), Thomas has been hard at work, coordinating and finalising the install of our new marinised Lister Petter engine. And on Sunday, when I was out (needless to say dancing, to wrap up a frustrating week-end of domestic chores, and witnessing a couple of failed attempts at adjusting the throttle control which took almost a day each), he texted me saying “it’s done!”. Of course I shared his excitement from a distance, nevertheless I had to hear it for myself, so, when I got back at 10:30pm, I didn’t wait for the morning and switched it on to check. Then we could celebrate.
I feel guilt and shame (emotions I now know to be on the lowest end of the spectrum of human consciousness according to Dr. Hawkins, as quoted in a workshop at NZ Spirit Fest) for my lack of involvement, but hey, at least I wasn’t much in the way, and nor were the kids who were at a holiday camp for the best part of last week.
Here is the new engine arriving a couple of days before Thomas’ birthday all suitably wrapped up, and all the action I missed as I was snorkeling in Kelly Tarlton’s fish tank in an attempt to tame my fear of sharks:
It took a few extra weeks to find time between the mechanics and us to:
adjust the mounts to fix it to the boat
connect the new dashboard
change the fuel lines entirely (which involved cutting new paths for the bigger pipes and switching to two returns instead of one, allowing us to run on one tank only should the need arise)
clean the hardly accessible fuel tanks (an entire Wednesday night squatting on the floor equipped with a dish brush circlipped to a wooden stick, a funnel, a bottle of kerosene and a Alemlube pump, and head torches, transferring all the fuel from one tank to the other, trying to dilute and ‘vacuum’ all the dirt at the bottom, and repeating the operation for the second tank)
get new fuel filters, from a friend who, bless serendipity, happens to be one of the biggest clients for this brand of engines and add some spares
manufacture and install a bracket to mount the new fuel filters
fix the electricity (the first time they tried to start the engine the engine battery wouldn’t work while the switch to emergency paralleling blew a fuse)
switch and adjust the two alternators
manufacture and install a new exhaust
add priming pumps on each fuel line
adjust the throttle control (final tweaks done last night while I was out dancing, again, to make sure the idle position was at reasonable low rev)
Overview of the mess when working on the fuel lines…
It’s been a long time coming, but after three months of forced sedentary life, the gaping hole in the engine room is no longer, and Obelix is all set to go out to sea again!!!
Dan (a friend with lots of equipment borrowed from his boat builder dad, it helps, a lot)
Patience
Time: 10 hours (excl. prep work the days before)
STEPS
Remove all secondary bits from the engine block while still in place (injector pump, )
Spray CRC/WD40 on bolts holding the engine to the gearbox and hull – every evening during the week preceding the operation
Wake up early-ish
Put on blue overalls, ready to roll
Loosen the bolts that needs undone (easier said than done, fortunately no knuckles were harmed in the process)
Build a structure to secure the gearbox (horizontal beam fixed to holds screwed on the engine room walls)
Secure the gearbox so that it doesn’t collapse when free from the engine (using the aforementioned structure, strap, and wooden blocks)
Remove bolts on gearbox (x12) and screws fixing the engine legs to the boat (x8)
THINK
Grind the one bolt that refuses to give (near miss: a towel used as rag nearly caught fire)
Jump in the car to get Dan’s scaffolding equipment stored in our friend Gaspar’s garden
Build a makeshift crane in the cockpit
THINK
Jump in the car and rush to the nearest construction site to collect some additional wooden bits to brace the scaffolding with diagonal beams.
Secure the engine to the chain-block
THINK
Move the engine horizontally front to back to come free of the gearbox shaft (involves crowbar)
Lift the engine through the cockpit hatch
Remove cockpit awning and metallic structure holding it
Slide engine backwards rolling the metallic tubes
Rotate engine sideways
Build a second makeshift crane hanging from the boom for transfer on the pier (using main halyard + jib halyard as backup, and reef line used as out-haul)
Wait for the rain to pass (includes preparing and drinking hot chocolate, and ordering some takeaway pizza in anticipation of the evening celebration)
THINK
Secure engine to the second crane
Put back engine room lid
Lift engine enough to clear cockpit walls and winch
Push boom to the side
Lower engine in trolley
CELEBRATE!
Once again I couldn’t hold my cry of elation when the whole operation ended successfully. Dan’s family heard us a few piers away and immediately joined the party, followed by our friend Max (who conveniently came to offer his help once everything was over ;P). I escaped to get our pizzas, which must have been waiting to be collected for a good couple of hours (I was resolutely optimistic about the time it would to complete the job). And as I returned with our large luke warm Il Giardino and Sotto il Mare (from Toni’s), and our kids who had spent most of the day watching cartoons and playing computer games in the marina lounge, we were offered extra pieces of pizza left over by our pier neighbour Rod. We must have been hungry by then (~7pm) as the pizzas all disappeared in a flash, while Dan and Max were busy discussing Classic Yacht Association related stuff…
As lock-down 2.0 was announced on August 13th, Auckland schools closed, and we retreated back to our bubbles, we decided not to add any complexity to the ever changing and (sometimes) absurd rules that governed our strange world, and let our children be free-range. No virtual hui. No homework. No schedule. No pressure. Except to let us work in (relative) peace, and help with the daily chores. And so they were left to their own device, although mainly off device*, free to explore being alive, get bored, and find things to do. Play outside, play inside, play some music, make huts, play Pokemon battles, climb, jump, run, row, swim, cook, bake, draw, write, read. They’ve really impressed us by demonstrating initiative and being totally able to entertain themselves (involving neighbouring kids and parents at times), while consolidating knowledge and learning new stuff in the process. Proud moment.
The bubble expands
We were also fortunate to be offered to stay at our friends’ house, while they were away from Auckland, enjoying freedom at the mountain. So, still in Bayswater, we became landlubbers for a few days, and indulged the luxury of space, a human-sized fridge with freezer (and even a mini door-in-the-door leading to the dairy compartment), a bath, a desk each, a trampoline, a veggie patch with abundance of fresh greens, a near home-cinema set-up, games galore for kids and adult alike, a view on Auckland skyline, and no need to bend to get to the kids room, with the risk of bumping a limb or our head! A very enjoyable stay overall, even though I must stay I struggled to get a decent night’s sleep away from my trapezoidal bed, the gentle rocking of the boat, and the sweet sounds of marine life popping underneath.
Spring clean
And finally, I took advantage of the whole family being away from the boat to undertake another paint job with Azur who relished the opportunity to assist me. We did a good job at lightening up the saloon with some more white (#cestmieuxenblanc). And back to the boat, every idle time was spent cleaning, polishing, or varnishing something, to slowly restore Obelix to her former glory, as they say. A never-ending task, but showing visible progress nonetheless with tidy bathroom cupboards, a leak-proof prism, a brand new emergency tiller, shiny brass fair-leads, and a vintage Sestrel compass promising to bring some cachet to our cockpit.
All in all we did our best to make our bubble great again, but let’s admit that this second time round wasn’t as pleasant as the first. The weather didn’t play ball, and the whole thing had a bitter taste of dejavu.
*However Thomas kindly reminded me that they actually spent a couple of very miserable days in the marina lounge with him, each on a screen, drawing on Paint 3D, watching scientific videos from NASA engineers, and, yes, playing video games. And now that I think of it, Azur even remarked that this second lock-down was way better for them because they were allowed to play Farmville 2, which he vouched was teaching them ‘stuff’.
“It’s alright mum, our boat isn’t badly damaged, just a few small repairs and we’ll be off again”, wrote Zephyr on the day of our incident… (cf. Obelix on the rocks)
The small repairs took three weeks, and, thankfully, no one dared tell me at the time it would take so long!
Apart from the minor scratches on the keel, the damage of the rudder needed serious repairs, all undertaken by professional boat builders (Brin Wilson) and covered by insurance (minus excess) to much of our relief. Besides, to optimise the time on the hardstand, Thomas threw in some evening and week-end sweat to assist the smooth running of professional operations, and carry out additional maintenance jobs, so that Obelix is sleeker, safer, and stronger than ever.
*WARNING* Reading the following DONE list might urge you to yawn or even take a nap to recover from the induced exhaustion:
Water blast hull (Brin Wilson)
Switch boat from “house” to “boatyard” mode (Thomas):
remove all carpets
cover all floors with cardboard
remove all bedding from the kids room
protect bench and lounge table with newspaper
Repair scratches on the keel (BW)
Repair rudder (BW):
manufacture new bottom part that was ripped (probably wet/rotten before)
repair cracks from the bottom bearing (one was an existing crack which had been repaired before, sign that someone else must have hit rocks at some point, just saying…)
re-skin very tip and trailing edge, where the old skin had cracked
Reinstate rudder (Brin Wilson):
service rudder bearing (changed packing in stuffing box)
apply Propspeed on bottom of bearing and propeller shaft bearing at the exit of the stern tube (areas covered with barnacles due to anti-fouling failing to adhere to stainless steel)
Service propeller shaft stuffing box (Thomas):
tidy-up
change packing (which meant ½ day bent upside down over the engine to remove the old one, and then ½ day to put the new one)
Failed attempt at removing the propeller shaft to inspect it (Thomas):
soak shaft with lubricant
hammer taper-lock nut & washer with big spanner
get them loose
try to break taper grip on shaft
fail
re-tighten everything
Full diagnosis and change of the fuel line circuit (Thomas & Brett):
buy new pump to suck diesel @ 8L/minute (fits on a drill)
transfer diesel from front tank to aft tank
suck diesel from all points of the fuel system, including removing the floor boards to reinspect the pipes
remove all parts of the fuel line to suck through them individually
find out valves were ok on close position but leaky when open (by blowing through them like a trumpet)
change both valves with similar model as original, although these are supposed to be gas and not fuel fittings
remove Racor separator filter
clean Racor filter
change fuel filter on engine
change impeller in saltwater pump
clean saltwater sieve
realise the end fittings (where the hoses clamp to) were corroded
change sieve
re-tighten 3 out of 4 belts (saltwater pump + 2 alternators)
rig saltwater hose to a bucket to be able to start the engine
bleed engine
successfully start the engine
Sand bottom of the keel, inaccessible last time it was on the hard (Thomas)
Inject resin in delamination pockets at the bottom of the keel (Brin Wilson)
Tidy up bilges (Thomas)
Apply antifouling around waterline (Thomas)
Remove jib port winch to clean (Thomas)
Measure hull humidity level with moisture meter, to enable monitoring of osmosis going forward (Thomas)
Clean deck, cockpit, carpets and vinyl floors from all the antifouling marks (Thomas)
Switch boat back from “boatyard” to “house mode” (Thomas)
Fill diesel tanks (Thomas)
And just as every cloud has a silver lining, once again I felt blessed with the unfolding situation. First, the repairs were mostly covered by our insurance, second, Thomas turned into a competent project manager supervising the whole operation, and last but not least, we found new friends that offered us much more than a place to stay!
Indeed, with the boat being immobilised, we needed to find a new home quickly and preferably a local one to minimise the disruption to our life, with kids going to holiday program at Bayswater Primary School, and us going to work every day in opposite directions. And after a few phone calls and messages in a bottle, we found an overwhelmingly generous offer (Thomas nearly cried on the phone) to stay at Ines and Raul’s place (one block form the school), and pitch our tent in their garden for what I initially thought would be a few nights, but soon turned out to be an indefinite period of time. We barely knew them from school, and having looked after our kids on play dates a few times, and not only didn’t they seem to mind having us, but on the contrary appeared quite happy to welcome us into their home. And what a perfect fit! Similar values, education, and activities, we couldn’t hope for more.
At Ines & Raul’sBoys on the roof
We got extremely lucky with the weather too and for three weeks, apart from the fact we all had to work during the day, it felt like being on summer holidays with our best friends, with long meals on the deck, philosophical discussions, and kids screaming in the background. The boys were thrilled to have their friends Julian and Marco to go to school and play with every mornings and evenings, and the parenting was made easier by having four adults between whom to juggle schedules and alternate cooking dinner every night. There was even a huge palm tree for the tropical vibe, a swimming pool to splash in, a cat to pat, a roof to climb on, and plenty of bikes and scooters to go on evening missions before getting to bed. What’s more, after a week, we upgraded to the garden shed as Ines and Raul got a new bed and relocated their old one there. Comfort + connection, what else?
With that new experience of happy community living, we had mixed feelings when Obelix got all fixed up and made it back in the water, ready to welcome us back on his board…
Obelix is the brain child of Uwe Tolks, former Master Mariner & Marine Construction Engineer, and Erwin Haag, Naval Architect, both German established in Whangarei, New Zealand, since the 70’s.
In Erwin Haag’s home office
“December 1976, he comes to my office and asks can you draw me a 12m boat?” says Erwin Haag as soon as I step into the room adjacent the garage through which we’ve entered and which looks like his office – maybe from back then even!, on this sunny Saturday morning, after a 2-hour drive and a last minute pit stop at the supermarket to get some nibbles. We’ve shaken hands a few minutes earlier on his garage doorstep, he’s introduced me to Uwe and has put away the wine bottle* we’ve brought as a token of gratitude for arranging this meeting. Thomas is trailing behind with the boys, as we’ve parked in front of the wrong number and they couldn’t catch up with my impatient pace, but he doesn’t wait for them to arrive, he’s ready to get down to business. The two men, who I wrongly thought were in their 80s, seem a lot more alert than I had feared, they stand tall and their handshake is firm, Uwe’s especially. I wonder for a minute what’s in it for all of us, but it soon becomes clear that there are a lot of stories that want to come out. Nostalgia indulgence, legacy safekeeping or desire to put the record straight, whatever it is, we’re keen to hear it all, cherish the early memories of our adopted child, and perpetuate the legend of Obelix.
‘Family’ picture in Erwin’s garage
Brief – dec 1976
Mast calculations
We briefly mention our incident with Obelix the past weekend but they either don’t hear or politely ignore what we’re saying. Instead they dive straight in the core of the subject, unsure as to where to begin. I quickly get lost in technicalities of the different types of resin used for lamination, between orthophtalic, isophtalic, or vinylester, approved by Lloyd’s or not, so quite organically, Thomas settles with Erwin over his desk (where he’s pulled out the full Obelix file, including original brief, early drafts, quotes and calculations, all elegantly handwritten on thin checked paper), to go over the what, i.e. the boat’s design, and I sit at a meeting table with Uwe, listening carefully to the bittersweet story of the why. Their initial plans to go on a medical survey expedition in Papua New Guinea with his doctor wife Renata and a couple of crew (which explains some of the design choices), that they had sailed to New Zealand all the way from Denmark, had their daughter, Tiare, in Papeete, a perfect blue-eyed blond little Tahitian who now lives in Devonport, and that because it wasn’t safe at the time to go to PNG, they settled in New Zealand in a “waiting state”, that the name of the boat “developed while [they] were building it, with its big belly”, that their son Teva was born half-way through the project, with a heart condition that compromised the whole PNG mission, and that soon after launching the boat, Teva passed away on the operating table at age 5, which resulted in a double break-up with the wife and the boat. No wonder, then, that when we show him pictures of Obelix under sail in front of Rangitoto, he is more interested in the shape of the volcano behind, which he was trying to replicate from memory on a pastel drawing for his grand-daughter, and asks us if we could send that picture “to his computer”.
Obelix in front of Rangitoto
Erwin pulls all the A3 drawings of his No. 22 design, which are orderly stacked on hooks against the wall. He also takes pride in showing us and the kids the wooden boat he is building with his grandson and whose hull lies upside down in his garage, before shooting off in his modern blue Volkswagen Beetle to a friend’s farewell, leaving us with Uwe to carry on our conversation for a bit longer.
All the while, the kids are drinking apple juice and eating macaroons, cherries and chocolate we have brought for morning tea, every now and then attempting to interrupt us to comment on the many boat pictures, drawings and models that crowd the room. We have asked in the car if they had any burning question they wanted to ask but they wouldn’t come up with anything. On the other hand, we have a long list of questions, regarding both specific features of the boat and its history, and we make sure that at the end of the meeting there is no stone left unturned.
Getting Design No. 22 drawingsThomas & Uwe examining the plans
Approaching noon, Uwe kinda concludes “it is not a beautiful boat, but it is a good boat”. By then we’ve satisfied our curiosity, exhausted the subject for the time being, and feel it is time to excuse ourselves. We exchange email address and phone number and head towards Waipu Cove, to digest all the information we’ve received while soaking in the summer vibe.
In the evening, after a laid back dinner at the Yogi’s Bar & Eatery in Gulf Harbour, we pay a visit to Obelix, planning to stay the night on board. However, the dizzying height at which it is perched on its cradle, the ferocious attack of mosquitoes when we climb in, and the stuffiness inside with the smell of chemicals used to remove the rudder all deter us from staying another minute. So we just collect a few clothes, school papers and squabs, and off we go again, driving back to Bayswater to spend the night at the tent we’ve set up in our Guatemalan friends’ garden. What a day, now good night!
Obelix Odyssey 