Day 10-17 of the 2nd Voyage: In which we don’t care if it’s a sequel, prequel or gritty reboot, we will NOT be having another Campbell River.

Bodega Bay was supposed to be our respite between the 30-hour ordeal from Brookings and the upcoming 30-hour slog to Morro Bay—roughly 12 hours to have a hot meal (on real plates and everything!), stretch our legs (on ground that doesn’t fall out from under you!), tend to our bumps and bruises (Aleve with a beer chaser!), and get some sleep in a non-bouncing bed (zzzzz!). The Captain and DC Richard changed out fuel filters to placate the engine, and I took Otter ashore to placate his bladder.

We set out early the next morning and headed over to the fuel dock where we topped off the tanks and pumped out the heads (a fortuitous action for which we’re now grateful). We then cast off from the dock, headed towards the channel…and could not get the forward gears to engage. (In lubber language, we couldn’t put the car in “drive”.) But we still had reverse so we backed back into the marina and onto a side tie pier. I swear that for a brief moment, we all considered just finishing the voyage backwards, but when the reverse gear gave out as well that idea was quickly scrapped. (In lubber language, we contemplated driving to San Diego in reverse till someone lobbed a socket wrench at our heads.) Time spent in the engine room and on the phone with our mechanic back in Everett pointed to a problem with the transmission. Not good. Now I could bore you with a lot of talk about torque and ratios and slip but it would sound like I know what I’m talking about (which is a stretch), so suffice it to say that without the transmission the propeller wouldn’t have a clue as to what to do and would likely be bullied into doing something it would regret by the engine.

Now if anything good came out of our 30-day exile in Campbell River, it’s that we’ve become a little wiser when it comes to “the process”. We vowed not to make the same mistakes—to come out of this sooner, saner, and sans bankruptcy. Here are a few lessons we learned:

Lesson 1: Find your first diesel mechanic and immediately fire him for being incompetent. We say this from experience. In an unfamiliar port, the first mechanic you find will probably come from a business card tacked up in the laundry room. You like him right away because he’s the only mechanic who answered his phone. He will be enthusiastic, seemingly knowledgeable, and inevitably way in over his head—to which he will never admit. Everything will take 2-4 weeks, including and especially returning your phone calls after the first consult. Be proactive and hire/fire this guy immediately so you can get on with your life.

Lesson 2: Find a competent diesel mechanic! How? By walking the docks. Talk to enough marina tenants and you’ll hear the same names mentioned over and over. Better yet, talk to the commercial guys. The fishermen here in Bodega Bay don’t have time to wait 2-4 weeks for parts and/or someone to show up. DC Richard got the name of a mechanic in Santa Rosa—top diesel man in the area. We took him the transmission on Sunday morning, got it back on Wednesday…as promised.

Lesson 3: If something foreign and/or proprietary is going to malfunction, make sure your mechanic owns a junkyard. We had to go through a manufacturer in England to replace the manifold—and we all know how that turned out. When we took the transmission to the mechanic in Santa Rosa, he informed us that should ours be beyond help, he had at least two “in the yard” that he could pull off of old engines. As he gestured toward countless heaps and mounds of engines and parts, the Captain and I exchanged glances. We were each thinking the same thing, “He probably has at least three Nauticat manifolds just lying around. Had we only known. Great. Now I can’t get the theme song to Sanford and Son out of my head. Elizabeth!”

Lesson 4: Save on labor costs by doing the heavy lifting yourself. In our case, the problem was inside the transmission itself—specifically a seal that had gone bad. The Captain and DC Richard unbolted and removed the transmission—all 180 lbs. of it—and through a system of pulleys and planks maneuvered it out of the engine room, through the galley and pilothouse, out on deck, attached it to a halyard and swung it out and over into a waiting dock cart. From there it was loaded into the trunk of a Toyota Corolla that would never comfortably go over a speed bump again. We figured we saved $800 in labor alone. (Of course, I will be helping the Captain get the damn thing back IN the engine room and reinstalled. Given the going rate of divorce attorneys, we may be losing money on this one.)

Lesson 5: Rent a car. This was the second thing we did (after hiring/firing the first diesel mechanic—which took all of two conversations in as many hours so well done, us). It necessitated a 40-minute bus ride to the nearest major town to reach the rental agency, but the freedom it has afforded us is priceless. Since procuring the car we have shuttled three to four adults, one large dog, and a sick transmission all over Sonoma County. We make at least one trip inland each day. That’s saying something, because Bodega Bay is far removed from civilization. The nearest town is Bodega (not to be confused with Bodega Bay), but there's not much to it—a country store, a church, a few old buildings. In other words, it’s a downshift from 55 mph to 25 mph for about three blocks (long enough to say, "my car doesn't even go that slow.") and then back up to highway speed. The next town is Sebastopol. Technically, Sebastopol is only 12 miles from Bodega Bay, but it takes a good 40 minutes to get there because the highway winds and curves and rounds and switches and goes around in circles and posts a different speed limit every couple of miles. One stretch will be 55 mph, then abruptly switch to 35, then back up to 55, then down to 25, then up to 50 (still haven’t figured that one out). And every turn of the road has its own “suggested” speed with some being more “suggestive” than others with flashing, blinking, “you’re gonna die you take this turn at 55” lights. We’ve been relying heavily on our phone GPS with the voice navigation. With the exception of a trip to Home Depot, it has worked pretty well but it does have one annoying feature…it displays the speed limit along with your current speed, and as soon as you go even one mile over the speed limit, “ding ding ding.” So on the stretch from Sebastopol to Bodega Bay where you’re literally changing your speed every 100 yards, the “ding ding dinging” can really get on your nerves. After being “ding ding dinged” for the umpteenth time, the Captain vowed to “punch that guy in the mouth” if he did it again so I quickly switched the navigator voice from male to female because he wouldn’t hit a woman.

Lesson 6: If you’re going to get stuck, choose someplace nice. Bodega Bay is a little town of about 1,000 people scattered along the edge of the harbor and up onto the hill above. It’s mostly a commercial fishing port, but there is a beach nearby that’s popular with surfers and several inns for “getting away” along with the requisite taffy stores, kite shops, and seafood restaurants of a seaside village. Its chief claim to fame is that it (along with Bodega, the aforementioned town not to be confused with Bodega Bay) was the setting for Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. So quite a few of the shops and restaurants sport variations of the “birds” theme. The town was also the setting for the horror films, The Fog and Puppet Master 1, 2, 3, and 5 but they’re not as prevalent as The Birds. I’m not sure why. I heard the town got its nose out of joint when it wasn’t featured in Puppet Master 4; they made up in time for 5 but things got ugly when they got passed over for 6, 7, and 8. (I wouldn’t even mention 9.)

At any rate, this is where we currently are and I think we’re keeping a (fairly) positive outlook this time around. Tomorrow, we will be reinstalling the transmission and (hopefully) preparing to leave in the next few days. Bodega Bay is nice, but San Diego awaits and there’s still a long journey ahead.

Editor’s Note: We had to say goodbye to Delivery Captain Richard. With Raven temporarily out of commission, there was nothing more to “deliver”. It was quite a journey to get here and we’re thankful he was with us. He got us through the tough stuff—the scary stuff—and we learned enough to get the rest of the way on our own. We would welcome him back to the crew at any time!

 

Pictured: Looking out toward the channel markers; a typical evening in Bodega Bay. They filmed the movie, The Fog, here. Not sure why.

 

Pictured: The roof of Home Depot as seen from a dead-end street right before the GPS told us to "put the Corolla in four-wheel drive, smash through the fence A-Team style, and careen down the hillside till you hit the lumber section...literally. Then your destination will be on the right...and the left."