The month of August is no time to be aboard a boat on the Chesapeake Bay. The only exception would be for a boat with air conditioning.
In August, summer condenses its worst qualities -- extreme heat and humidity -- inside boats. Sitting exposed all day under the direct rays of the sun, any boat, be it wood, fiberglass, steel or aluminum, absorbs radiant energy. A boat cabin becomes an effective oven. Add to this the fact that a boat is sitting on water!! and the potential for 100 per cent humidity becomes a probability.
Back in Bermuda, we found that Robin's air conditioning didn't work. It was not a problem there. We were able to get good nights of sleeping in June. But I was in no rush to return Robin to her home port in Cambridge, Md., without a way to moderate August's wrath inside her cabin.
Still, the move had to be made. So when John and I docked Robin in her berth there, getting the AC repaired was my top priority.
Last week, I paid a two-day visit to our lovely, having arranged for a diver to be at the Marina on Wednesday to replace her sacraficial zinc, which had fallen off the prop shaft during the Bermuda race. I also, with the help of Scott, the dockmaster at the marina, contacted an air conditioning repairman and told him I'd be in town until Thursday. He said he would be available and asked me to let him know when -- or if -- I wanted him.
I was certain I'd need his help. I'd tried three times to fix the AC myself. Then, on the four-day voyage from Connecticut to Engineer's Cove in Chesapeake City, I'd had my friend Curt Michael, an excellent all-around mechanic, on board. Mike had stroked his chin, mumbled a few syllables and attempted a repair, without success.
The symptoms were these: There was no air coming out of the AC vent even when the switch was turned to "Fan" only; and although the AC made noises, it never pumped any water through its plumbing and overboard, as it should have
The way the AC works is that a pump located in the engine compartment sucks seawater into the boat through a seacock and pumps it into the heat exchanger in the AC unit, located at the bottom of a locker next to the chart table. The heat exchanger draws heat out of the air in the cabin and transfers it to the seawater, which -- heated -- is pumped overboard.
This process can be disturbed when you are under sail and the boat heels because the water falls out of the seacock when you are on a port tack. It is necessary, before the AC is turned on back in the slip, to make sure there is water in the seacock. This is called priming the AC. I had done this three times by opening a small strainer in the line and allowing seawater to flood into the bilge.
I arrived in Cambridge at about 10 a.m. on Wednesday. There was no sign that the diver had arrived yet so I decided to try my hand at fixing the AC one more time before calling the technician.
I turned on the switch and, just as before, when I put my hand in front of the AC duct, I felt no air moving. Then I climbed outside the cabin and looked overboard. No water was pumping out the side of Robin's hull.
Back in the cabin, I opened the door to the locker and looked at the AC unit. There was nothing visibly wrong with it. I decided to follow the duct work from the unit to the vent where the cold air should have been blowing into the cabin.
Voila! The duct had been torn loose, probably when Robin was rocking out on the Atlantic in those June storms. I replaced the duct and, sure enough, I got a breeze from the vent.
Now I dove into the engine compartment and, one more time, let sea water flood into the bilge before I returned the strainer to its place.
I did not have great faith when I went back to the control panel and once more tried turning the AC on. But when I went outside and looked overboard, there was a stream spewing from Robin's side strong as a garden hose. And in seconds, cold air was blowing into the cabin.
So it looks as though we will be able to visit with Robin even on the hottest days as 2009 winds down.