10 miles out of Half Moon Bay my engine sounded different. I turned it off and crawled into the cockpit hatch to see what was wrong. "Thank goodness there is no wind" I said to my boat. My muffler had blown up. I thought diesels liked to be driven. I disconnected the clamps and put the unit into the cabin. When I was again in the quiet cockpit I said to my boat "Oh, there is no wind, it's a sail in the fog for us, honey". So we sailed at about 1.7 knots and never saw land, and the fog at the entrance to the gate obscured the towers. I could glimpse the bridge through the fog as I sailed under it. Now that was cool. Thank you, MX Mariner'
MUFFLER REDUX: More than 1800 people have read this thread, which tells me that more people than I have difficulties with exhaust systems on old boats. Thank you to Max Crittenden, Bob Johnston, Brian Boschma and Pat Broderick for advice. Here's what finally worked for my Universal M15. The raw water thru-hull directs water via a hose to the water filter. On Dura Mater this is a bronze Perko. I took it apart and made new gaskets with gasket paper purchased from an auto parts store. Then I sealed it with blue goopy permatex. I immersed it from top to bottom overnight and no water got in. I think it is sealed. A hose goes from the water filter to the new Oberdorfer water pump. It’s a beautiful water pump. Its impeller is intact. Yes, I bought a spare.
So far, so good. Then the engine overheated (again) and melted the top of my new Vetus muffler. Oh, hell. Someone then gave me a used muffler (a perfectly good used muffler). It was sitting around in the corner of a yard, much like the Cal 20 keel given me a few years ago by Dave Morris (thanks again, Dave). Why would the engine overheat? According to Max and Brian, cleaning out the engine’s exhaust elbow helped their engines live right. Like eating more roughage works for humans. Yuck. Brian sends me a photo of the engine part. He draws an arrow: unscrew these two bolts. Duh. Surely I could do such a simple thing myself. No way. Those bolts were on tight.
I took Dura Mater across the marina to the Berkeley marine center. Kurt the mechanic snorts: “of course I can remove two bolts”. Well, he removed the two bolts, but then the elbow broke off, having rusted all the way through. I suppose it had been there for 33 years, but still. He broke it, right? Kurt felt no remorse. “Better here than out there,” is his line. I concede the point. Kurt tried to remove the elbow from the manifold. No way that was going to happen. So he removed first the alternator. Then the manifold. Now I know what an alternator looks like. And a manifold. And an exhaust elbow. I suppose Mike Jefferson thinks this is a good thing.
After separating the manifold from the elbow, Kurt rebuilt the exhaust elbow, wrapped it with fiberglass tape and replaced it. To the manifold. And then he replaced the alternator. And the muffler. And all the hoses. Finally he scolded me for the inadequate tie downs holding all the electrical wiring up above my engine. Kurt scolds me every time he works on my engine. I hang my head but I feel no remorse.
And now! When I start my engine the water gushes! Yes, gushes! No more squirts, but gushes. Like on Solar Wind. I mean Iniscaw. Whatever an Iniscaw is.
