The Flagship Marine air-conditioning installation

It took four weekends, but Gimme Shelter now has marine heat and air-conditioning.

We went with a Flagship Marine 12000 BTU unit as we liked both the fact that the units are made in the USA and they use a modular off-the-shelf construction, so should anything go wrong, it's easy to find parts. We ordered both the unit and the deluxe installation kit, so it came with the appropriate through-hulls, ducting, hoses, vents, pump and strainer.

We weren't completely thrilled to be giving up the closet, but getting rid of the space heater and the roll-around air-conditioner that were taking up space in the cabin made it a worthwhile tradeoff. It was also the easiest place to duct. We simply had to run one duct through the bulkhead into the main cabin and one out through the bottom of the closet and back up into the bukhead of the v-berth.

We installed the programmable thermostat in the nav station. 

Of course, to run the air-conditioner we had to install a new 20 amp breaker. Unfortunately the O'day panel only had three breakers: outlets, charger, and water heater. 

We took a trip to West Marine only to find out breaker panels are REALLY expensive. We decided go browse through the Kemah Boaters Resale Shop. 

Jackpot!

Yes, we had to install it sideways. And yes, we still had to spend $65 to replace two of the breakers, which ended up different colors. However, the panel was only $8.99, and we didn't have to cut up the bulkhead.

It turned out to be a good thing we pulled the old panel out. The cable going to the outlets was in really bad shape.

The plastic casing of the 30 amp breaker on the panel also shattered when I attempted to unscrew the shore power leads. I guess it's good to inspect your electric lines every 32 years.

After three weekend of drilling holes, running cables, and re-wiring breakers, we came to the one thing we couldn't do ourselves -- drilling the through-hull.

We fired up Gimme Shelter and putted around the corner to South Texas Yacht Services to have them drill a hole in the bottom of our boat.

 

I had one friend who swore to me that we could drill a hole in the water as long as we had a bunch of rags to shove in the hole while we fished the through-hull through the bottom with a string. I decided it was worth it to pay for a haul out.

Quick hauls generally last one hour, but when they install a through hull they want to give it a little time for the sealant to cure a bit, so you basically get charged for two quick hauls. All in all, our "extended quick haul," pressure wash, zinc change and through-hull installation cost us $650. It added a lot to the cost of our air-conditioner installation, but not sinking at the dock was worth it.

We were back in our slip with the professionally installed through-hull and a clean bottom by 10:30 a.m., so I went to work installing the strainer and pump.

The heavy duty blue silicone hose was a nightmare to get onto the flanges. I finally boiled a pot of water and stuck the ends of the hoses in the water for about 15 minutes to get them flexible enough to install. They are so tight, I'm pretty sure the clamps aren't even necessary. 

The pump had plastic flanges and was much easier to install.

I opened the through-hull, kicked the thermostat over to "Cool", and checked our water flow.

Voila! We have air-conditioning.

No more lifting window units on and off the deck and leaving them on the dock. No more crappy roll-around units dumping condensation all over the floor and having to be lashed up against the wall when we go sailing, No more space heaters in the walkway causing us to worry about starting a fire. 

Will it be worth the investment? I sure hope so, but I guess we'll find out this summer.

Catching up

You probably thought we’d sailed away … which is ironic since we haven’t sailed at all.

Yes, we’ve neglected the blog, but sometimes actual work has to come first. However, with the first quarter coming to a close, and one of two large charity events behind us, our schedule is getting a little more bearable.

Remember when we moved out of Marina Del Sol because we wanted deeper water, and the ability to go sailing all winter? Well, that never happened.

Despite having access to the bay all winter long, Gimme Shelter never left the dock. The few weekends we might have gone sailing, we rode along on Antares for the Icicle Series Regatta or on the Tina Marie for a trip to Redfish Island. We’re actually a week behind the past years as it was always the second weekend in March that we made our first trip out.

To be fair, it has been the coldest winter in Houston that I can remember, and I’ve been here since 1995. In fact, I think we’ve had more freezes since the beginning of 2014 than in the past five years combined. It was also a windy, rainy mess this weekend.

You’d think that there would be a long list of repairs and improvements made to Gimme Shelter since we hadn’t been sailing. Not really.

I did replace the refrigerator lid. I also fixed the leaking mid-ship hatch. Then we pulled down the warped, moldy headliner in the cabin with every intention of making a new one. That project is kind of stalled out at the moment.

Mary got me a really nice insulated French press coffee maker for Valentine’s Day. That solved our coffee with no electricity at anchor situation, so I’ve never bothered to rewire to power inverter. I’ve also still never taken any action to replace the alcohol stove with the propane oven that has now been sitting in the garage for a year and a half.

However, I have spent the past three weekends working on the air-conditioner installation. At the beginning of February we ordered a 12,000 btu unit from Flagship Marine, and I’ve been slowly piecing it together.

I wouldn’t say it’s been a smooth process. Despite multiple measurements and calculations, the unit was too big to go under the starboard couch where we had planned for it to live. That meant giving up the hanging closet. Unfortunately, the closet had no floor, so a floor to support the system and still have the appropriate holes for ducting, wiring, water and drainage had to be constructed and installed. That was one weekend of work.

The next weekend we drilled holes all over the boat. We needed holes for the air-conditioning vents, holes for the wiring, a hole for the thermostat, and a hole to send the raw water overboard. I got the thermostat installed and the wiring run the length of the boat, but not connected. Our AC breaker panel was full, so a trip to boater’s resale found a new breaker panel that would fit the space of the old breaker panel, but with an extra breaker available for the air conditioning. Of course, some of the breakers in this bargain $8.99 panel didn’t actually work, so it took another trip to West Marine to find a working breaker for the air-conditioner. That weekend ended with all the new breakers sitting on the nav station.

This weekend saw the ducts put in place, although one of the drawers in the Vberth now has to be cut in half to shut with the duct behind it. (That’s on the list of future projects.) Then I started tinkering with the wiring. When I pulled the old breaker panel off, I found the power wire to the outlets was frayed and corroded. I had to make a run to West Marine for 12 awg butt connectors, so I could cut it back and splice new wire onto it. Then I attempted to remove the 30 amp main breaker, which I needed to re-use on the new panel, but the brittle plastic casing shattered into pieces. That required trip number two to West Marine for another $65 breaker. At some point in there I also sliced open my index finger, which required some first aid because I was getting blood all over everything, and we also had to stop and re-tie the dock lines because the wind was blowing so hard the boat had started banging into the dock. However, by Sundayafternoon my AC power was restored, and the Flagship Marine unit was blowing heat. Progress!

There’s only one step left to finishing the install, and we have an appointment with South Texas Yacht Services at 8 a.m. this Friday morning to pull the boat out of the water and drill a hole in the hull to install a raw water line.

While the installation of the air-conditioner is definitely a big step forward in terms of comfort at the marina, it’s also a big step forward when it comes to de-cluttering the boat. While we did lose some storage in the closet, it rid us of both the space heater and the large roll-around air-conditioning unit. More livable space is a huge plus. We also got rid of the microwave, which was only getting used once every six or eight weeks and a ratty deck chair that was taking up space.

Less clutter and some serious climate control should make this summer aboard Gimme Shelter much more pleasant.

I've got gas

Diesel, that is. I mean, we've always had it, we just had no idea how much.

When we purchased Gimme Shelter, the fuel gauge showed 3/4 of a tank. After a trip to Galveston, it still showed 3/4 of a tank. We'd add five gallons of diesel, 3/4 of a tank. 

I finally crawled down in the lazarette and ground the positive cable on the fuel level sender. Hey, guess what? The fuel gauge moved. I immediately put a new fuel level sender unit on my Christmas list.

Thanks to my parents, one showed up in my stocking, and we finally set aside a work weekend.

Swapping a sending unit is a piece of cake. It's five screws and two wires. The hard part is getting to the tank. Luckily our rusted out hot water heater had been removed before we bought the boat creating easy access, which I don't think the previous owner ever had.

The old sender had some serious nastiness on the float, and it was almost too swollen to get it out of the tank.

When we turned the key, the gauge no longer showed 3/4 full. In fact, it showed less than 1/4. We then poured in a few gallons of diesel out of a jerry can just to make sure it would move. We turned the key back on, and sure enough ...

It felt good to tick a repair off our list. 

But then I took apart the refrigerator lid. It was rotting and growing fuzzy mold. I decided there was no salvaging it, so I had to bring it home to measure and build a new one this week.  There was just no way we could put something that was already molding back into the boat.  

We also thought we had found a newer more modern mid-ship hatch at the Boater's Resale shop, but after measuring about six times we decided it was just a little too small for the cutout, so we resolved ourselves to ordering more acrylic and Dow Corning 791 to attempt lens replacement for the third time and finally stop our leaking. After repairing the hatch twice already and still having leaks, I just can't take any chances that this time will not fix it.  

Then we tried to talk ourselves into buying a 16,500 BTU marine air conditioner, but after even more measuring and calculations, we decided that a unit that big pulling 20 amps might trip the breakers in Gimme Shelter if we were running the AC and any other electric device at the same time.  Not to mention that it wouldn't fit anywhere except in the closet. Even though our closet is not usable right now anyway, I had hoped to use it in the future. Especially when we have so much room under the settees.  

THEN I took the alcohol stove apart to survey the galley and decide if we really wanted to install the propane oven or not. There's enough space, but still no decision on whether it's worth it.  I'm so scared to cut up my kitchen! 

The to-do list and opportunities to spend money never end. However, as my dog was standing on my chest insisting on going outside at 4:30 a.m., I stepped outside and was reminded why we mess around with boats.  

Our First Race

We were lucky enough to be invited to race in the first icicle series race of 2014 this week. At first Fred planned to go alone, not knowing how much space there would be for crew.  After a little bit of pouting from me though Freddie secured me a spot on deck. I knew going into the race that this was going to be pretty scary for me. Going quickly around other boats while heeling, and being splashed by cold water are not my favorite parts of sailing. I had already thrown a fit to be invited though, so there was no backing out now.  

We arrived at the Antares around 10:30 a.m. after a quick trip to west marine to buy Freddie some new sailing gloves and shoes. In hindsight what we really needed was some waterproof pants. We quickly found the Cal 40 and began to meet the crew as they arrived.

We cast off around 11:30 as our start time was at 12:05. We motored for very little time before putting up the sails. It's amazing how quickly things get done with a full crew. However, I immediately understood why everyone was wearing full foul weather gear. The cold waves immediately came crashing over the boat as we passed Kemah Boardwalk. The water started at the bow but ran like a river down the side of the boat. Of course me and Freddie are sitting on the rail as ballast and had a stream of cold water instantly soaking the butt of our jeans.  

The sail boats circled around under sail near the start line. It felt like we were fish in a bucket. Boats were narrowly missing us on either side. Some people were playing chicken with other boats. I guess these racers have a love for danger that I will never understand.

Finally the first leg of the race kicked off. It was a broad reach, and we were gaining on a lot of boats. I couldn't believe how much the boat was tipping, or how fast we were going. It's amazing to be so close to so many other sailboats. It's interesting to see the different strategies. Some people heel over so far I swear I could almost see their keel.  

After a yelling countdown from the captain we turned the first marker, an abandoned oil platform, and the crew was already putting the spinnaker up. Our giant orange sail was quite the sight to see. They are so light weight, and seeing them put up with such ease makes me want to try it. Although I don't know that it has any practical use for cruising. Maybe a screecher is more of what I want. 

On the last leg of the race we were close hauling with the boat tipped as far over as she would go when we hear a thud, and the captain yells "I've lost steering!  Let the sails loose!" Everyone started to panic in what can best be described as a Chinese fire drill. First the crew manning the sails lets them completely out so as to slow the boat down. Then another crew member jumps down into the cabin to inspect to see what the problem with the steering is. Meanwhile someone else is emptying out the lazarette looking for the emergency tiller. Lawn chairs and cushions are being passed around the boat frantically. Meanwhile someone produces the emergency tiller from the cabin and we all wonder why we emptied the lazarette in the first place and begin putting everything back. Before they even get the tiller in place they are already trimming the sails back up and bringing the boat back up to speed.  

After drifting around, the only way for us to go was directly through the lines of boats that had been behind us. We had right of way and just sailed right through the column at full speed. The skipper was yelling "starboard" as we went through, and no doubt the other boats cursed as they had to let out sails and slow down trying to avoid hitting us. We had one more tack and we were on our way to the finish line.

Obviously we didn't have very active roles this time out. We mostly added ballast and shot photos -- although we did help take down and stow the kite and occasionally unsnagged a snagged line. Thankfully the "icicle series" did not live up to its name since it was about 60 degrees Saturday. That really helped the wet jeans be less miserable. However, Mary is correct that next time we're wearing different pants.

It was interesting to see the difference in fore deck crew versus cockpit crew. The fore deck guys basically stand up front getting soaked and beat up the entire race. Meanwhile the cockpit crew are sitting back, staying dry, and sipping beers when they're not trimming lines. Hmmm.

Despite losing the steering cable, the Antares still took third in class. Once docked and cleaned up, the end of the race was celebrated with a shot of rum. It's been a long time since I've had straight rum. Mary took one small sip and passed hers on to me. I get the feeling this is a taste we'll have to acquire if we keep racing.

Will we go again next week? The juries still out. It was storming Sunday morning, so I got zero work done on Gimme Shelter this week and the list of repairs is growing. If we want to be making overnight cruises by March when it's warm enough to sleep without a heater, I may have to spend some Saturdays at the dock. We'll just have to see.



  

Welcome 2014

I woke up January 1, 2014 in the same clothes I had been wearing in 2013. My head was pounding, and I decided that meant our New Year's Eve celebration was a success.

I did my best to quietly tiptoe past the others sleeping in Gimme Shelter -- at least as quietly as one can be in a small boat with two dogs that are extremely excited about taking their first walk of 2014.

Our celebration hadn't been anything fancy. We just hung out on Pier 7 of Watergate Yachting Center with our neighbors on the Tina Marie and our new next-door neighbor with a Beneteau 39. We rang in the new year with two guitars, bongos, a tambourine and some magical vocal harmonies followed by a champagne toast.

Oh yeah, and the fireworks ...

Although they went off at 10 p.m. (I guess Tillman Fertitta celebrates on Greenland time?) we watched the Kemah Boardwalk fireworks exploding over Clear Lake Shores. It wasn't quite as magical as when we anchor out to watch them, but we did have an excellent view from our pier, and since we weren't bobbing around I could actually set up a tripod and catch some long exposures.

I was reflecting on 2013 as I walked the dogs around the marina. It was an exciting year. Our voyage to Offats Bayou aboard the Seahorse in March was the first trip we'd taken past Redfish Island and by the end of April we'd sold the Seahorse and bought Gimme Shelter. We also made our first trips to Double Bayou and Haborwalk. We re-plumbed toilets, we faced storms, we ran into submerged objects. It was exciting stuff.

Christmas brought Mary a new inflatable PFD with a built in harness, so that she can't pull a Natalie Woods on me. Santa also brought me a new electric screwdriver to replace the one I lost overboard, and a fuel level sender, so we'll actually know how much diesel we have in the tank. That will be the first project of 2014 -- quickly followed by the replacement of the  refrigerator lid, which seems to have rotted out and fallen off after it iced up and frozen shut back in November.

Of course, the boat repair list for 2014 will be just as long as it was in 2013 as we're going to need a bottom job this spring, and we're definitely installing air conditioning this year. At some point I also have to suck it up and climb the mast to fix the anchor light. 

Although 2013 was exciting, there were still a few resolutions that I never accomplished. My resolution for both 2012 and 2013 was to learn to use a spinnaker. I just never had enough crew and the right weather conditions to make it happen on the Seahorse, and Gimme Shelter doesn't have a spinnaker. However, we're kicking off 2014 in a big way by reporting for duty on Saturday as crew for the Antares for the first race of the Icicle Series. It will be our first time racing, so we hope to learn some new tips and tricks that will make sailing Gimme Shelter easier. Maybe we'll even get to fly a spinnaker.

No risk, no reward

The forecast looked a bit bipolar.

There were tiny thunderclouds with lightning bolts all the way down the page, but the wind speed was never predicted to get above 7 knots.

Our friends on the SV Escondida were headed for Redfish Island and planning to spend the night.

While the October temperatures are great for anchoring out, we’d never had a calm night at Redfish Island.  I had completely swore off of anchoring there.  

Of the two times we’d previously spent the night there, once required re-anchoring at 3 a.m. when we started bouncing off the bottom at low tide. The second time we got rocked all night by wind and wakes and had a neighbor drag past us, then shine spotlights on our boat for an hour while they re-anchored.  It literally felt like we were sleeping in a bucking bronco that night.  We would doze of for a minute only to be startled awake.  There is nothing like waking up, forgetting you're on a boat, to your whole "house" shaking.  

Needless to say we didn’t get much sleep either trip.

At noon the rain still hadn’t hit, although we could see it following close behind, and being buoyed by our previous weekend’s great sailing, we decided to at least sail out to the island, even if we weren’t going to spend the night.

As we left Kemah, we watched the black clouds close in behind us. The lightning strikes would reflect off the sails and light up the boat, and I'd count the seconds until the thunder hit. But we kept tacking into the wind, confident the storm was blowing away from us.

It was a 3.5 hour trip to Redfish Island, and we got sprinkled with rain from time to time.  The trip was a little more tippy than I like, but it was sunny enough I could sit up front and ignore it.  

With a careful eye on the depth and the tide chart, we dropped anchor around 4 p.m., and I could immediately tell from the look in Mary's eyes we were going to spend the night.  Well we were in great company, and its rare to get such a nice night out.  

For the first time ever it was calm enough to deploy the kayak and make an assault upon the island. I tried to take Dixie, but she flattened herself to the sole of the cockpit and wasn't having any part of this crazy kayaking idea.

Unfortunately for Tex, he's so small he had no choice, so Mary handed him over to me, and the two of us headed out for Redfish Island.  Poor tex, the whole time he has the life jacket on he just air swims.  As if he could fall in the water at any minute and he would like to be prepared.  

Tex doesn't like wearing his life jacket, and he was rather annoyed at getting splashed by the paddles, but once we got to the island, he gave the air a few sniffs, forgot his troubles and began rampaging around like a crazy dog.

A few minutes later our friend on the Escondida had their dinghy in the water and stopped to pick up Dixie on the way to walk their schnauzer, Beef. All three dogs couldn't get enough of the smells, especially the smells of the dead birds we found. Of course, Tex was the only dog who decided to eat the dead birds.  Yeah for such a girly looking dog he is disgusting.  

After the island escapade, we returned to Gimme Shelter where Mary got to play hostess all evening ... and perhaps drink a little too much rum.  I didn't mean to, but I was bored while they were on the island! It was so good to FINALLY hang out on our boat.  

Low tide came and went at 7 p.m., so by the time we went to bed, I was feeling confident in our anchor, and it was easy to fall asleep.  I was more than confident, I had closely monitored the the swing, and the depth and I knew we were not moving.  

Around 1 a.m. I felt the wind really coming through the hatch, so I got up to check our position, and all was well. It was then back to sleep until the sun started creeping in the open hatch. I sat up for a look and was rewarded with this.

I tried to wake Mary up to share the beauty. She did sit up and look, then she went back to bed.

I couldn't sleep anymore. It was too exciting. I clicked a few more photos from the boat, then I made Dixie kayak with me to the island, so Mary could sleep in quiet.  How could I sleep with them having adventures though.  Its so cool to see them so tiny over on the island.  You forget how small your dogs are until you see them from a new perspective.  I would guess kids are the same way.  

After being scared to death of the kayak Saturday night, the trip to the island in the dinghy had alleviated her fear.

We spent the morning adventuring, walking all the way to the end of the island and back as huge ships passed by.

 I stared at all the weird items that had drifted ashore while she sniffed them.

Then, eventually we paddled back to the boat to make coffee.

My ingenious and noisy coffee plan consisted of plugging the coffee pot into the power inverter and then running the engine for ten minutes to keep it from draining the house bank. The only downside of the weekend is that we realized our power inverter isn't working at all. I wasn't even getting electricity to the back of it. I also don't know if the inverter even has enough power to run the coffee pot, so it was a risky plan to start with.

While I was fumbling through the coffee plan, Mary and Tex did some kayaking.

When she got back, Matt and Carla invited us over to Escondida for coffee and pancakes.

We had a nice breakfast before the dogs made one more trip to the island. Then it was back to reality with a gusty sail home.

Everyone was exhausted.

This was absolutely one of the most enjoyable sailing trips we've ever made, and we almost stayed at the dock. No risk, no reward.

Everyday that we sail the boat is better and better.  It was unbelievably stressful sailing our new boat at first, but totally worth it now that we finally trust ourselves and each other with her.  

October sailing

October always has the best weather for sailing in Houston, but it always ends up being my busiest travel month of the year. Last year it was Seattle to Paris to Tulsa. This year it's Tulsa to Pensacola to Paris and then is capped with my little brother's wedding in Houston.

That doesn't leave much time for sailing, but thankfully we were able to sneak out for a few hours Saturday to wander the bay in light wind.

We needed a light wind day to practice some basic skills and build our confidence back up. The trips to Double Bayou and Harbor Walk with rough winds, no main sail, and an underwater collision had really shaken Mary. Meanwhile I had been fighting with the battery system since July 4 and had become very wary of motoring. In other words, one of us had no confidence in sailing, the other had no confidence in motoring, and we were both wondering if we could make it an afternoon on the water without fighting.  Sailing so far has felt a bit like walking a tight rope that could fall into an argument at any moment.  It also seems that every time I think things are finally looking up that something goes wrong with the boat.  

Thankfully the Universal fired right up, battery bank 1 had no issues, and we got out to the bay with no problem. Mary took the helm while I raised the sails, and we spent the next three hours tacking back and forth across the bay to Redfish Island.  I should have trusted Freddie a long time ago to work the sails. I had the attitude of "it's my boat, so I should know how to work the sails," and I do, but Fred is a lot stronger than me and he did a great job of trimming the sails. I really felt a lot safer with him working them.  

We spent most of the time close hauled, making about 3.5 knots, and we even managed to catch up to and then outrun one of our friends on his Allied Seawind. That felt really good since he is by far the better sailor, but Gimme Shelter moves well in light wind.  It was great to be close hauled with light wind because it feels like you're going so fast, but you don't tip as much as with heavier winds.  

We had left the dock with clenched teeth but the love of sailing was back, and we were in full relaxation mode as I listened to the water streaming off the hull, Mary sunbathed on deck, and the autopilot steered us onward.  It really felt like a victory.  

Now the most remarkable moment of the trip came as we approached Redfish Island, and I started looking around for the wrecked platforms you have to avoid as you approach the island from the west. I spun around wondering if we'd somehow already passed them. They just weren't there!

At some point between Labor Day and last weekend someone has removed at least four platforms that were wrecked in Hurricane Ike five years ago. This is a big deal. I've been using "the barn" as a navigation point for years!  At some point you just give up on seeing things fixed, and trash just becomes landmarks. 

I searched the news for any mention of this and couldn't find a thing, but I would like to issue a big thank you to whatever company or government body it was that finally cleaned up the bay. As boaters, we really do appreciate it. (I just hope you took all those platforms down to the mud, so I don't slam into a bunch of underwater pipes next time I'm out!)  LIke basically all of Trinity Bay. That place is a hazard zone. 

We made a 180 at Redfish and headed back towards Kemah hoping for a nice downwind run. I guess 1 knot is moving, but I don't think it qualifies as a run. Our friend in the Allied Seawind definitely had us beat downwind with his huge bumblebee drifter deployed.  

We have a very large jib, but we completely failed at getting it to fill in the light wind. We fired the Universal back up and chugged home.  It really stinks to motor downwind :(.  It was very dead though.  

I kept an eye on the depth finder as we entered the Watergate channel, and I was very pleased that at no time did we have less then two feet of water under our keel. We would plow through anywhere from 6" to 18" of mud in the Marina Del Sol channel depending on the tide. With no more fear of getting stuck in the lake, that's one more point of stress eliminated from our sailing routine.

Back at Watergate we washed down the boat and met a few of our new neighbors before heading back over to Marina Del Sol for dinner. I mean, after all, nobody can grill pork tenderloin like the Captain of the Tina Marie.  

To Marina Del Sol's credit, they had FINALLY towed away the Bijou, a huge motorboat with a recording of sinking and leaking diesel every four to six weeks for the past three years.

Of course, the owners left an old moldy mattress from the Bijou lying on the dock and it had sat there for a full two weeks undisturbed by marina staff. My bet is that it will still be lying there next weekend if we stop by -- but would you expect anything else from Marina Del Sol?

The storms hit late Saturday night, and we discovered Gimme Shelter does much more rocking and rolling in the wind at Watergate since it's less protected and has deeper water. That's definitely a downside to the new location. It was bad enough that the dogs retreated under the covers for protection, but it wasn't terrible.  It really wasn't bad at all.  I don't even remember it.  

Sunday morning West Marine replaced both our batteries on bank 2 under warranty, and we now seem to have the 12 volt system back up and running at 100 percent. Maybe if I fix the fuel gauge sender Mary will agree to a trip to Offats Bayou this weekend.  As our sailing improves I am pretty excited to go on another longer trip.  It's been just about long enough to forget how bad the last one was.  :)   We are getting noticeably better with time though.