Blog » Mechanics

Marine mechanics: Women’s work

Tasha Hacker — Fri, 22 Feb 2013 22:32:32 +0000

Testing our fuel tank sender float

It’s a shame that more girls aren’t trained as marine mechanics because, frankly, with the tiny spaces one has to maneuver in to work on a boat, most men, with their big, cumbersome frames, just aren’t built for it.

The job we tackled on Monday, after putting off boat work to celebrate my birthday all weekend, was to figure out why our fuel gauge wasn’t working.

I’d gotten on the Catalina 34 site and Cruiser’s Forum to ask how I could figure out whether the problem was with the fuel gauge on the instrument panel or the sender float in the fuel tank. I got a lot of advice on how to figure this out, along with the guess that we had a bad sender float, and if that was the case, it was more trouble than it was worth to replace it.

Advice: Replacing the fuel float is more trouble than it is worth

I relayed this to Ryan and he looked at me like I’d just suggested we live without a fridge because that would be easier than fixing it. “That’s ridiculous!” he said. “It can’t be that hard to fix. Besides, we’ll learn something.” Which is Ryan’s motto for everything we tackle on the boat: “We’ll learn something.” And, granted, this has been true for everything so far. It’s just that it often conflicts with my motto, which is: “Don’t work too hard.”

Since Ryan wasn’t happy to settle for living with a broken fuel gauge, we set to work pulling off the instrument panel in the cockpit to access the wires behind it.

The plan was to test the wire connections and work out which item was broken. And once we worked out it was, indeed, the sender float, the next job was to empty out the back berth (our junk room/food pantry) and take off the panels exposing the tank so we could get to the sender float and the wires running back to our instrument panel.

Now, this is where I come in.

Because, like the time we had to remove the heat exchanger from the engine, and the time we ran wires from our solar panel to our battery monitor through the back of a small hanging locker, we’ve found that Ryan — with his broad, rugby player’s shoulders — just isn’t able to squeeze his upper body into tight spaces and use both hands to tackle an intricate job. I, on the other hand, can shimmy my small frame into just about any space on the boat.

Ryan — with his broad, rugby player’s shoulders — just isn’t able to squeeze his upper body into tight spaces and use both hands to tackle an intricate job.

For example, removing the heat exchanger required me to hang half upside down in a hole under the back berth so that my shoulders and neck sat on the the hull while my legs and hips were above my head on the berth. In this position, with a flashlight in my mouth, I could use both hands and a screw driver to remove the heat exchanger.

And when we wired the solar panel, though Ryan was able to reach the wires in the back of our hanging locker with one hand, he was unable to
also get his other hand in to crimp the wire connector. I, on the other hand, could shimmy my shoulders almost completely into the locker and
use both hands to do the job.

Accessing the fuel tank, by comparison, was a piece of cake.

I simply squeezed myself into the 3-foot-high space at the foot of the back berth, under the cockpit, where our fuel tank sits behind a removable panel. With a flashlight in my mouth, and my arms squeezed into the space above the tank, I removed the screws on the sender float. The only problem was that, being inexperienced at mechanical work, I hadn’t yet worked out that the five screws around the edge of the fitting held the gasket in place, while the center screw held the float to the fitting… and also kept it from falling into the tank.

I worked this out quickly, though, when I unscrewed the center nut and then shouted, “Noooooo!” as the sender float slipped away from the gasket and kerplunked into the tank. I looked at Ryan sheepishly, and could tell he was trying really hard not to say, “That was really stupid.” Luckily, I saved the day with some electrical wire and a fish hook. Though our fish hook has yet to snag us a fish, it’s now revered for having retrieved our sender float from the fuel tank.

And once we had the sender float in our hands, we could wire it up directly to the instrument panel and indeed confirm that when we moved the float up and down, the needle on the instrument panel didn’t move. Which meant the sender float was definitely the problem.

Within an hour, though, Ryan had returned from a nearby marine store in Nassau with a new sender float. So we wired it up to our instrument
panel and voila! The needle moved!

Now all I had to do was crawl back down to the fuel tank and install the new float without dropping it in the tank this time.

Installing the new fuel tank sender float

Note to self: Don’t remove the center screw. If I do say so myself, my installation job was much quicker and more professional than my removal job. Which I think means I’m improving my skills. And thanks to having small shoulders, I only got a small crick in my neck and no major bruises.

I’m trying to take more of an interest in the mechanical workings of our boat, even though I feel that some things are beyond my comprehension. Like AC and DC electrics. But then again, Ryan has no more training in this area than I do, so it would be unfair to assume he should do all the mechanical work just because he’s a man.

I’d be wiling to venture, though, if more women were trained as marine mechanics, the male mechanics of the world would find themselves up against some tough competition. We ladies are just better built for it!

This article was published on February 5, 2013 in Tasha Hacker’s blog: www.TurfToSurf.com

About Tasha Hacker

Tasha is a Traveler who became an English Teacher and then a School Owner but really wanted to be a Ski Bum and instead became a Sailor.

When her husband Ryan blurted out in 2005, “It’s my dream to sail around the world,” her response was, “That’s ridiculous. Who lives on a boat?!” Which resulted in them not speaking.

But the idea festered. So in October 2012, Tasha found herself sailing out of New York City with Ryan and their two cats aboard a Catalina 34 sailboat with an appetite for adventure and a blog url: www.TurfToSurf.com

Your disability is your opportunity

Teresa Carey — Sat, 23 Apr 2011 15:30:28 +0000

I spent last winter in Miami, Florida working and saving for my next big sail.

My goal was to sail to the Bahamas, spend some time exploring the sandy beaches and shallow banks, and then head north, offshore, bound for Martha’s Vineyard. I had summer plans for sailing on schooners in Maine and the Vineyard.

But having a deadline is seldom a good idea when traveling under sail. Many things can delay a departure, and this winter I was met with one delay after another.

Finances at that time were a struggle for me. I had been taking transient jobs at various ports just to keep food on the table so I could keep sailing.

But when I was nearly ready to set sail again, my engine failed. When I tried to start it, black smoke poured from the tailpipe, a knocking sound came from the engine compartment, then a sputter, and finally silence.

Being the DIY kind of person that I am, I searched my reference books, owner’s manual, and even Google for a solution to the problem.

“Maybe it’s an injector problem,” I thought after reading as much as I could. So, I removed the injectors, cleaned and replaced them. Still the engine wasn’t working.

My boyfriend Ben was traveling with me in his own pocket cruiser and we both were eager to set sail again.

“Maybe it’s the fuel pump,” he suggested. So, together we removed the fuel pump and sent it in to be tested. Of course, the tests said it was fine.

Finally, I decided to contact a mechanic.

The first mechanic I had aboard Daphne never spoke to me. Instead, he directed all his questions to Ben and explained what was going on only to Ben. Even when Ben said, “Ask Teresa, it’s her boat.” or “Teresa knows better because she has been working on it,” he still spoke only to Ben. So, I decided not to continue working with him.

I called a second mechanic. When I spoke to Jim and explained the problem, sounds, and what tests I had done, I didn’t mention Ben’s name at all. Jim was polite, helpful, and spoke to me like I was knowledgeable and could understand him, which I could.

When Jim came aboard Daphne to test the compression, we both thought that it would test out fine. The engine was relatively new, had low hours, and looked great. If it tested fine, then we had to continue to explore what the problem could be. If the compression was poor despite the tests I had already done, then Jim said it would most likely be a bent connecting rod, which is a costly and extensive project to fix.

Unfortunately the compression in one cylinder was down by over fifteen percent.

Jim was leaving for vacation in just a few days and could not take on this project.

He suggested other mechanics and estimated that it would cost over $1,000 and I would have to remove the engine so they could work in their shop (since Daphne’s engine room is so small no one can fit in it and if they could, they would likely get seasick even at anchor!).

The news was upsetting. I felt like my entire plans and all that I had saved and worked for in the past few months were being taken from me. There had to be an alternative.

Lucky for me, I chose the right mechanic this time. Jim sensed my disappointment and offered an alternate plan. He suggested that I could order the parts I needed from him and he would coach me through the process of changing the connecting rod myself. And that he did! Even when Jim was on vacation, he still answered my phone calls when I needed clarification on the next step.

Soon I was calling him to say “I did it!”

Only $400 later, and a few extra days I was on my way to the Bahamas.

Ben and I both had a lot of fun with this project, and together, with Jim’s help we learned a lot about diesel engines and a lot about ourselves. I’m lucky to have a partner like Ben and to have found a mechanic like Jim.

Even though engines and mechanics seem to be a man’s world, both of them treated me like the capable woman that I am. In fact, on several occasions, I was more suited for the task! Being small, with little hands, I could fit in the engine room and manipulate little parts.

Ben was eager to learn about engines and would have done all the work himself if I had let him.

But because Daphne is my boat, and should anything happen when he wasn’t around, I needed to learn the skills too. And it’s a good thing that I did! Only days later, when I was alone and sailing Daphne across the Gulf Stream, I had to bleed the engine in the middle of the night in bucking seas!

For a few weeks, from the sound of the first engine knock, it was a rollercoaster of ups and downs. “How can I afford this? Will I ever get to the Bahamas, or home?” I thought.

But in the end, it was just as educator Kurt Hahn meant when he said, “Your disability is your opportunity.”

About Teresa Carey

Teresa Carey is a USCG Captain, Oceanography educator, and writer.

She has lived aboard many boats and has sailed coastal and offshore the entire coastal US, Bahamas, Caribbean, parts of Canada, St. Lawrence, and the Great Lakes. In 2008, she gave up the lubberly life and moved aboard Daphne, which she sailed solo for many years, chronicling her journey in her well-received blog “Sailing, Simplicity, and the Pursuit of Happiness” (www.sailingsimplicity.com).

Teresa is being honored for her inspired writing with an invitation to a TED conference, where she will be a featured speaker (www.tedxtraversecity.com).

This summer Teresa plans to team up with another sailor and a movie production company. This journey will take her north to the arctic where she will film an eco-documentary on icebergs and climate change called “One Simple Question” (www.simplequestionmovie.com).

More information (external links)

Teresa Carey’s blog: “Sailing, Simplicity, and the Pursuit of Happiness” (www.sailingsimplicity.com)

What “opportunities” has sailing provided YOU?

Let us know.

Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.