SS Pacifica

by Coleinger, Ronnie

  Chapter 8 - Sinking Becky’s Boat

  It had been many years ago that I last set sail on a sailing vessel, but the science behind the procedure quickly came back to me. As we tacked into the westerly wind, we soon found that the vessel needed some extra seawater in the windward ballast tank to keep the deck somewhat level. Nevertheless, the Pacifica made good speed in the light wind and we soon had traveled twenty miles to the north of the boathouse.

  As the sun began to set, we decided to lower the sails and anchor on a sand reef. I made a note to install a photocell on the running lights so they only came on at night. I would also add an override switch in case we needed the lights during the daylight hours. The water below us was shallow, but I was unable to judge its depth. I needed a rope marked off in fathoms like the old sailors who sailed these waters before me often used. I also realized that we had no method of reading the depth of the water if we decided to submerge. I would correct that when we returned to the boathouse.

  Becky and I decided to submerge this vessel here on this sand bar. It looked like a safe enough place to test Becky’s design concepts. I discussed the plan with Becky since she had declared herself captain. She giggled at my nautical request. I asked her, “Captain, permission to sink your boat?” She giggled and said, “Permission granted sailor, but be gentle with her. Her bottom remains unscathed.” I laughed again as Becky double-checked that the locks and safety pins were in place on both hatch doors. The top valve on each side of the hull released the air inside the ballast tanks at the top near the deck, and the bottom valves opened the tanks to the sea. I opened the top valves fully open, and then slowly cracked open the two bottom dive valves. We could hear the water begin to fill the tanks of the SS Pacifica. Then we realized that she was slowly descending towards the bottom of the ocean, hopefully to rest of the soft sands of the sand bar.

  We felt the bow touch the bottom first, and then the entire vessel jiggled around and settled in the sand. When all was quiet, and we were certain everything was water tight and working, I again spoke to Becky. I said, “Permission to float your boat, Captain?” She was laughing too hard over my words to answer, up she did point up towards the surface. I closed both top air release valves, and then closed the dive valves about half way. I reached over and slowly opened the air valve on the compressor storage tank and heard the air begin filling the ballast tanks. I turned on the air compressor and we waited patiently for the air to force the water out of the ballast tanks. Just then, I heard Becky scream; she spooked as the vessel moved sideways a few inches, and then began to rise, bow first. I slowed down the flow of air entering the ballast tanks and let the Pacifica slowly rise to the surface. When I looked at Becky, she had her hands over her mouth. I asked if she was okay and she said, “Sorry if I frightened you, but since I am the captain, I have the right to scream as I see fit.”

  I was certain that we were now on the surface, but Becky asked how in the hell I would know that without opening the hatch? I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I will install a depth gauge when we return home, but for now, we will have to try opening the hatch door.” Becky stood staring at me as if I might have lost my mind, but then her engineering skills kicked in and she realized that the door certainly would not open if there were water pressure on top of it. She was captain, so I let her open the damn hatch. She was very tentative, but soon had the door open and I could feel the fresh air entering the cabin. I fully shut the dive valves and stuck my head outside to see how high we were riding in the water. The water level was about half way up the sides of the vessel, but she was riding very calm in the water. I decided to leave her at this depth for now. Becky joined me up on deck and we lowered the windward side anchor. Then I went down into the cabin and turned on the exterior lights. I commented to Becky that the lights needed to be on whenever we dropped anchor. I checked the amp draw from our lights and was very pleased with the new LED stern and running lights. They drew very little power and remained cool.

  The sun was beginning to set in the western sky. Becky commented that if we listened, we might be able to hear the hissing sound as the hot sun touched the surface of the water. I put my arm around Becky’s waist and stood quietly beside her. Becky said, “I think we should attach a ladder to the side of this vessel to make it easy to get down into the water when we want to swim.” I looked over the side and said, “I can help us for now by hanging the life line ropes over the sides of the boat so we can each get down to the water and then climb back up. The swim rings on the ends of the ropes would work out nicely.” Before I had finished my sentence, Becky headed down into the cabin and said, “You stay up there and I will pass up the ropes and swim rings.” Within minutes, I had a rope hanging over each side of the vessel. When Becky returned to the deck, she had a bottle of hand sanitizer with her and two towels that she laid down on the deck. Becky looked around and saw no boats, so she stripped down and jumped into the water on the starboard side, I quickly followed suit on the port side.

  ***

  I could see the fish swimming down below the Pacifica and dropped the hook baited with a small artificial worm down near them. At first, the fish seemed to ignore the bait, but then one small fish nibbled on the worm. It seemed that the larger fish were immediately jealous and one of them grabbed the hook and headed off across the sandbar. It was starting to get dark enough that I was beginning to have difficulty seeing the fish that I had hooked down below me, but it fought hard. When it had tired a little, I pulled it up onto the deck and grabbed it by the tail. It soon lost the strength to fight and I decided to get it ready to cook. Becky had heard the commotion on deck and stuck her head up through the hatch to see the fish I had caught. She said, “That one is big enough for both of us to eat. I will get the stove and pans ready to cook.” Within just a few minutes, Becky passed up the camp stove, a large skillet, and some cornflake crumbs up to me.

  While I cleaned the fish, Becky got the skillet hot and ready to cook. I was an old pro at filleting fish and soon had two nice slabs of meat ready to eat. Becky melted a little of the fat under the fish skin to keep the lean meat from sticking in the pan, rolled the fillets in the cornflake crumbs, and laid them into the hot pan. I went down into the cabin and gathered up two plates, two forks, two spoons, and two small plastic cups of applesauce. Then I poured two cups of water and moved everything up onto the deck. While Becky continued to cook the fish, I prepared the percolating coffee pot so it could go on the fire when the fish were cooked. I had forgotten the coffee cups, so I returned for them before joining Becky on deck. When she took the fish out of the hot pan and placed the fillets on the plates, we both smiled at the incredible aroma of the freshly caught fish. As we ate, the coffee quickly began to perk. The white gas camp stove put off a lot of heat and the water in the pot came to a boil much quicker than either of us would have guessed.

  I asked Becky if she needed to swim again before we went inside for the night. She said she was okay. I commented that we should not put food scraps or coffee grounds into the ocean until we were certain we did not need to enter the water again. I looked into her eyes and said, “Our food scraps might attract predatory fish in these shallow sandbars, you must realize.” Becky nodded and said, “I had not wanted to think about sharks and such, but before we went swimming, I thought carefully about what might attract them. I am certain that even our body excrement could cause problems if we are not very careful.” I said, “We may want to swim soon after we drop anchor in the future, and then stay out of the water once our scent is present.”

  We quickly cleaned up the cooking equipment and utensils, and then moved everything down into the cabin. As we stowed our gear, we decided to return to the deck and finish drinking the coffee we had brewed. The air was still warm and a gentle breeze blew in our faces, but the bugs began to fly around us. Soon the bugs were too much and we retired down into the cabin, and then closed and sealed the hatches for the night. As we prepared our beds, I mentioned to Becky that we
needed to fabricate some form of screens for the hatches if we wanted to leave them open at night. Becky told me that she had a large roll of bronze window screen in the boathouse that would work if we made up wooden frames that fit over the hatch doors.

  As we lay in our beds talking, I commented that we would need a few days in the boathouse to tend to the items on our list of things to do. She said, “At least three days, maybe four. We will see what the weatherman has to offer. I would like the first few days of our adventure to be storm free until we have proven this vessel sea worthy.” I mentioned that tomorrow I would like to test the propulsion motors and propellers carefully. We could also test the dive/steering planes to insure they responded as the computer modeling suggested. Becky reached over to my bed, took hold of my hand and told me that if the rudders did not perform correctly, the trip to sea would surely be in peril until we redesigned the systems.

  When I woke in the morning, I felt the cool air coming into the cabin from the open hatch. I got up, climbed up to the deck and sat down. Becky was drying her hair with a towel and stood looking at me with her cute smile. I asked her how long she had been up and she said, “A couple of hours or so. I wanted to see my first sunrise from the SS Pacifica’s deck.” I looked over her naked body and said, “Your body seems to enjoy the fresh air and cool ocean water.” She looked down at herself and commented that the water was in fact very cold, but she was not certain what the salt water would do to her long hair or her skin for that matter. I returned to the cabin and got one of my towels from the overhead cabinet and a bar of soap. When I stepped back onto the deck, Becky kissed me on the lips and said, “I will give you a few minutes of privacy, and then bring up what we need to cook our first breakfast at sea.” I stripped off my underwear and dove into the ocean. I realized that the bar of soap floated, so it was easy to wash my body. The soapsuds drifted slowly off towards the east as I watched, and soon disappeared from view among the shallow waves.

  As I floated alongside the Pacifica, I realized that my body followed the motion of the gentle waves, but the Pacifica sat very steady in the water. Once I climbed back up onto the deck, I dried myself off in the warm sunshine, I decided that I loved being out here on the ocean. I knew that Becky and I would have stormy days that would certainly test our navigational skills and probably our patience with each other, but for the most part, I figured we would enjoy this extraordinary adventure together.

  I felt Becky’s arm wrap around my waist. She had snuck up behind me and had begun kissing the back of my neck. I finally turned around to face her and she giggled as my manhood pushed against her leg. She said, “It is nice having you here with me. Thanks for becoming my partner. I was worried at first that our strong personalities would clash, but instead they seem to draw us closer together.” I looked her in the eyes and said, “I need to put my robe on, your hands are driving me crazy.” She giggled and said, “I will seduce you after we have tested this vessels navigation system and returned the Pacifica to the boathouse. A cold beer, a rare steak, and my warm body will put you right again.” I said, “I will pass the breakfast items up to you if you will remain on deck.” She asked what I intended to make for breakfast and I told her that I wanted to try cooking oatmeal on the camp stove to see if it would be edible. She giggled and said, “Even I cannot ruin oatmeal.” I pointed to the port side of the vessel and said, “Look, just below the surface at the large fish.” She immediately stepped back towards the hatch and asked, “Is that a whale or just a large fish?” I laughed and said, “Actually, I think it is dolphin, see the long nose.”

  As we prepared breakfast, I asked Becky if she had any books with pictures of the fish found in the Pacific Ocean. She thought a moment and said, “No, but a trip to the bookstore might solve that problem. I would love to have a book aboard with pictures of what we might encounter along the way. It would also be nice to know what fish and seafood are edible. I have lived and fished often in the coastal waters, but have no idea what fish we will discover out a sea.”

  I almost burned the oatmeal and had to stir it quickly, Becky laughed at me and said, “I am sorry to laugh at you, but I struggle hard trying to prepare food when someone is watching me. To realize that you also burn food is comforting. I know that sounds strange to laugh at other people’s problems, and I don’t mean to be rude, but the laughter releases the pressure that my mind places on me to be perfect all the time.” I passed her a bowl of oatmeal and said, “Hang on just a moment and I will get you some milk for your oatmeal.” I went down into the cabin, found one of the boxes of powdered milk and mixed some with water. I stirred it really well, and then grabbed one of the honey containers and headed back to the deck. When I poured a little milk on Becky’s oatmeal and put just a little honey in her bowl, I saw her smile. She looked at me and said, “I forgot about the powered milk and honey. I was going to eat this oatmeal as it was, but this is very good.”

  When we finished breakfast and cleaned up our dishes, we prepared to test the propulsion motors and rudders. I asked Becky is she would drive since she had designed this system, and I would remain on top and watch the action of the rudders in the clear water. She smiled and said, “Yes! I get to drive.” I leaned close to her and said, “Drive carefully my friend; I don’t want to have to pull your license for speeding or reckless driving.” She kissed me hard on the lips and said, “I promise to drive nice.” I went down into the cabin and connected my clamp on amp meter to the main power line just as it left the batteries. I set the meter to record the highest amp draw that occurred while Becky navigated the boat in the shallow water.

  I poked my head down through the hatch and told her I was going to raise the anchor and then she could begin moving the vessel, but reminded her not to dive without warning me. She giggled and said, “I will not leave you here on this sandbar, and I promise not to drown the inside of the Pacifica on her maiden voyage.” I laughed and said, “Good, I am glad we got that straight.” She giggled as she held up her index finger and said, “This is for you mate.”

  As we tested and retested the operation of the vessel, I finally stopped her and said, “Look at the meter I installed and tell me what the digital display reads.” She read the meter and then walked up to the stern hatch ladder and told me that the meter read 1.65 amps. I told her that was good but it was now time to run the propulsion motors. I told her to run only one motor at half speed for a couple minutes, then shut it off and record the meter reading. Then she could run the other motor at half speed and record the meter reading. Then we would run both motors at half speed and see how the boat moved through the water. I went into the cabin and helped her get a notebook page started to record the readings and showed her how to reset the meter to zero after each test. I smiled at her and said, “If you need help during the testing, just stop and give me a shout.” She looked like she was about to burst with excitement. I put on my life vest and connected the safety line to the top rung of the ladder just inside of the hatch door. I wanted to be able to get back into the cabin and shut the hatch door if water was about to enter the cabin once we began moving through the waves.

  I heard Becky yell out a warning that she was going to test the dive planes first. I walked to the edge and watched as she moved them up and down smoothly. Then she yelled that she was going to move the steering rudders from limit to limit. She had installed mechanical stops on the arms inside the vessel so that we could not force the rudders so far to one end that they might jam. Besides, we both knew that the rudders only had to move a few inches to get a large response from the vessel as it moved through the water. Once she had thoroughly tested the rudders, she asked if I was ready to test the motors. I told her I was ready. I walked back to the stern so I could look over the edge and see the propellers moving. When she started the first motor, I saw bubbles rise and then the vessel moved slowly forward. She let the motor run for a good two minutes and the vessel moved along very smoothly. I heard the motor shut off and then in a couple minu
tes, the other motor turned on. It also ran smoothly. I was pleased with the four blade propellers; their size was perfect and they moved the vessel with little effort. When the motor turned off, I waited for her to run both motors together. If I had done my speed checks correctly in the boathouse, and the rotations were correct, the propellers should turn exactly the same RPM and the Pacifica should move through the water in a straight line. When Becky started both motors, the vessel moved quickly forward. The speed surprised me a little, and I realized that the twin propellers had a lot of thrust. After a couple of minutes, the motors turned off and I saw Becky appear at the bottom of the ladder. She climbed up onto the deck with me and said, “The meter read 15.24 amps maximum with both motors running.” I looked at her and said, “Did everything seem okay as you drove your boat for the first time?” She did not answer me; instead, she turned her back to me. As I stood looking at her, I realized she was crying again. I said, “Becky, tell me why you are crying this time.” She turned to me and said, “My dreams of building a boat and sailing the high seas have come true. These tears are the release of many years of frayed nerves, and angry emotions. The SS Pacifica lives.” I walked up to her, wiped the tears from her cheeks with my fingers and said, “Let’s head back to the boat house. The sooner we get the Pacifica seaworthy, the sooner we can head towards Polynesia.” I watched a smile cross her face at the sound of the word, Polynesia.