Problems

I’m not sure which smart aleck first said, “There are no problems, only opportunities.” Whoever s/he was didn’t encounter what we have the past couple of days. It seems all we’ve done since the christening is solve problems.

First there was the problem of Internet access. While we’re at the Hallberg-Rassy dock, web surfing is no problem. It’s as easy as logging on to the HR wireless network. But when we leave the dock, we are on our own, and we must find a solution for accessing the Internet, because good Internet access means good access to weather information, a must for cruisers.

Back in Colorado, picking up wireless networks at each marina we visit seemed a good Plan A for Internet access. I even purchased a special antenna to increase the range for picking up network signals. We expect to average one out of three nights at a marina (two out of three will be at more remote anchorages), so this would give us reasonably frequent access to weather forecasts (and email!). But Roland tells us that unlike marinas in the Caribbean and elsewhere not every marina in Scandinavia has a wireless network and those that do charge extra for it. So Plan A now appears unwise. A Plan B is in order.

Roland advocates that we purchase an unlocked 3G USB modem for our laptop as a way of accessing the Internet. This modem enables the laptop to function as an iPhone, drawing Internet service from the cell phone network. Like a cell phone, you buy a SIM card and pay as you go for Web access. This way, you only pay for as much as you need. There are no long term contracts to sign, no monthly bills to pay. Each SIM card is specific to that country’s Internet Service Provider, so you simply purchase a new SIM card at the next foreign port and drop it into your modem. And the SIM cards are so widely available even grocery stores have them. Sounds simple, right?

The problem is that nowhere in a reasonable distance from Ellos can we find an unlocked 3G USB modem. Roland gave us three possible sources in Uddavalla, a fairly large town closer to Ellos than Gothenburg. Of course, we had no way of getting there since we turned in our rental car last week. But Roger has been a big help in every way, and he offered to take us to Uddavalla in his father’s mini Mazda car. We went to a big mall, and after a delicious cafeteria lunch (I had cod and mashed potatoes; Jocelyn had schnitzel and baked potato; we both had the salad bar), we searched for the modem in three stores. None were in stock. We even called Roland’s special source, who said they were “on order.” Locked modems were readily available, but these were only good in Sweden and we’d have to buy another in Norway, an extra expense we didn’t favor.

So for now we’ve defaulted to the “do nothing” option, waiting for Plan C to emerge.
Part of Plan A for accessing weather information is to use our Single Sideband radio to receive Weatherfax transmissions. SSB is a high frequency radio, kind of like a HAM radio, that sailors the world over use to stay in touch. Several stations around the world broadcast fax signals on SSB frequencies that enable viewing of weather forecast maps on a laptop equipped with some fairly inexpensive software. Shortly after we arrived, we downloaded a trial offer of this software and tried to get it to work. At first, we were stymied by a “COM1 Port Busy” error message. (I say “we,” but Jocelyn did most of this work.) Then, with the help of a Google search, we overcame this obstacle and started receiving fax transmissions. But when the transmission ended, all we saw on the screen was snow. We have yet to view a legible weather forecast, and we’ve now burned through 10 of our 30 free trial transmissions. We haven’t given up yet, though.

Then there was the problem of getting chartplotter information delivered to the navigation station. We ordered the boat equipped with a Furuno MFD8 chartplotter, a state of the art GPS navigation system that integrates radar and navigation information in a neat package. Think of it like an extra fancy GPS unit in your car. The unit is mounted on the chart table in the cockpit, just a few feet from the helm. We had HR run a special network cable to the navigation station in the cabin so we could monitor the Furuno information on our laptop. We understood that all we would have to do is plug in the laptop and the Furuno images would appear. Now we find that extra software is needed to enable the Furuno unit to network with the laptop. This software works best on a Microsoft operating system, not Mac OSX, which is what we have. Plus it’s expensive -- $1,900.

So again, we’re choosing the “do nothing” option. We’ll use the Furuno unit in the cockpit for now and think things through after a season’s worth of experience.

Yesterday, we had our final delivery from Vickie Vance before leaving Ellos. Vickie owns HR-Parts and has attained “rock star” status in our book for helping us sort through the myriad choices for setting up and equipping the boat. Vickie is an American, which makes working with her even easier. (BTW, she is married to Roland.) The delivery included two major items, our inflatable dinghy and 8 hp outboard motor. When unpacking and setting up these two items, we encountered some unexpected problems. Some plastic fittings were missing from the dinghy’s foot pump, making inflation difficult. We informed Vickie, who apologized and said she would get the right parts from the supplier ASAP, but meantime we would have to improvise inflation. As with most problems with inflatables, duct tape came to the rescue, and we were in business a short while later.

The outboard problem proved more worrisome. With Roger’s help, I unpacked the outboard and found that it appeared to weigh far more than its mount could support. We had HR install an outboard mounting bracket on the stern rail. The railing is one-inch stainless steel tubing supported by stanchions mounted on two inch posts and bolted through the cap teak into the fiberglass deck. This seemed a sturdy enough arrangement, but the new four stroke outboards are heavier than the two strokes that dominated the market until recently when they were outlawed due to environmental concerns. Our four stroke weighs 37 kilograms, or 82 pounds. A comparable two stroke weighs only 23 kg. When we lowered the motor onto the bracket, the whole stern rail rocked and swayed precariously. I couldn’t help but envision the motor shaking the railing out of its stanchions in a heavy sea and toppling overboard. We tensioned the line from the outboard lifting arm and this alleviated the problem somewhat, but it still seemed worrisome.

This morning, we asked Roland for his opinion of the arrangement. He assured us that we needn’t worry. He had seen much heavier outboards mounted on the stern rail without mishap, even during repeated ocean crossings. This calmed us enough to figure we could proceed without selling our motor back to Vickie and rowing our dinghy all summer. Problem solved, for now. (Cross you fingers.)

Later this morning, Jocelyn ran over to the Laundromat at the Ellos marina to do a load of laundry. (HR has everything, but not a coin operated laundry.) First, we couldn’t figure out how to get the washing machine to accept our 10 Kronor coins. Then, once the wash was done, the drier kept swallowing coins but never started. We finally gave up and used a time-tested method to solve this problem – the sun! (Today’s weather fully cooperated.)

We resolved not to let any of these obstacles delay our maiden voyage any longer. We would simply adjust the plan. Because we now needed to return to HR Parts to pick up the foot pump fittings and some anchor rode that had yet to arrive, we would simply go out for a couple of days rather than take off for Norway straightaway. This approach has the advantage of allowing us to return to HR after a bit more boat “shake down” time.

We plotted a course for “Mother-in-Law Cove,” so named because Leon Schultz’s mother-in-law lives on the cove. Leon is an HR40 owner who publishes news and views about the cruising life on reginasailing.com. I met Leon in Kristiansand, Norway, during my Mahina Tiare II adventures last summer.

Our inaugural sail began marvelously with an upwind leg to a point not far from Ellos. Turning north, we unfurled the sails and killed the motor. Now we were doing what we came for! The sun was warm, the sky clear, and the coastline beautiful as we lollygagged along at four knots. Our course led us through a maze of rocky islands past a fairly large town named Lykesil, and around another point for the final leg downwind. Jocelyn took the helm while I prepared the anchor.

We knew from the chart that we would have to watch our depth closely as we proceeded into the cove. Sure enough, the depth finder showed steadily decreasing depth as we approached the chosen spot for dropping anchor. When we went as far as we thought we should, I brought the boat to a stop and hailed Jocelyn to weigh anchor. She pushed the “down” button on the electric windlass, but nothing happened! The anchor did not launch, and the windlass stopped working. We started drifting backwards with the wind into shallower water, so I put the engine in forward and motored out of the cove a bit. I relinquished the helm to Jocelyn and went forward to see what the trouble was. Sure enough, the electric windlass foot switches wouldn’t respond, so there was nothing to do but launch the anchor manually. I directed Jocelyn to steer us back to the chosen spot and, using the windlass winch handle, released the stop, loosened the clutch and launched the anchor. Once we settled back, I asked Jocelyn to reverse the engine to set the anchor. But we dragged perilously close to the shallows, prompting me to weigh the anchor by hand and direct another pass. Jocelyn engaged the engine again and we made the turn through deeper water.

That’s when the depth finder failed. Just as we had been taught, we were calling out the depth frequently to make sure we kept a close eye on it. But when the depth stayed steady at 7.7 meters for an awfully long time, we knew something wasn’t right. The chart did not show that constant a depth. Suddenly, we were operating without a reliable depth finder! Not a good situation when anchoring in a shallow cove. The last thing I wanted on my maiden voyage was to run aground! And we were having trouble setting the anchor to boot!

We made one more pass through the deeper water and back to the chosen spot. I launched the anchor again and this time it set. I played out an extra measure of chain just to make sure there was plenty of scope. We watched the shore for some time. Once we were satisfied we weren’t dragging, we allowed ourselves to relax. A quick dive proved we were in deep enough water with the anchor well set. (I shared the 60 degree Fahrenheit water with a school of small fish and a ton of jellyfish.)

We ate a delightful dinner of baked chicken, pasta, and stewed vegetables washed down by Pripps beer as the sun finally started to get lower in the sky around 9:30 p.m. After dinner, I searched in the windlass manual for troubleshooting clues and found a blown fuse under the V-berth, which I replaced using the spare in my spares kit.

Problem solved.