Spending Time on Lutra

Well, a few months have gone by since the actual purchase of Lutra went down. After all of the paper work was said and done, I took possession of Lutra a few days after Christmas ... Mad Dog joined me over in Seattle, at Shilshole Bay Marina, and we motored her a few slips over to her new berth. It was fairly late in the day when we finally had her tied up and secured to shore power. I thanked Bob the Broker very much, we shook hands, and he headed off (we actually still keep in contact ... he's a great guy).

That's me in the salty wool sailor cap (scruffy beard and all), and Mad Dog in camo jacket; Lutra is in the background.

So, she was really mine, and an adventure was really in the making. Woo-hoo!!!

We spent a couple of nights on board ... making a list of things that needed doing ... and began punching away at those items. Over the 6 or so months that have passed since then, quite a few things have been completed from that list, and we're making good progress in having a very safe, ocean-going, live aboard sailboat. I'm quite pleased.

Hoses and clamps have been replaced (dang marine grade hoses are expensive!!!). The galley plumbing has been replaced. All of the thru-hull valves have been sprayed (PB Blaster) and made operational. The propeller has been changed (now there's a story!). I've purchased a chartplotter (she didn't have one), but it still needs to be installed. We made sure all of the proper safety gear (noise makers, signaling devices, PFD's, etc.) are on board and accessible. The decks have been cleaned and washed (cockpit too). The sail covers and the bimini top have been cleaned (lots of bird poo and algae). The documentation number has been forever affixed to the hull. Of course, after applying for a new number - well, not really a new number, but actually changing ownership - it took pretty close to 6 months to receive the new documents!! Most all of the interior lights have all been upgraded to LED (very nice - low power consumption). All of the existing wiring has been traced and a 12V system diagram has been made; we now know what needs to be replaced, what needs to be added, what needs to be eliminated, and how we think we might want to go about it. All I want to say about that right now is, dang there are a lot of lights inside this boat!! And a very solemn de-naming and re-christening ceremony has occurred ... and she now has a name and hailing port sweetly affixed to the stern quarters!

The de- and renaming were fairly quirky and dramatic. I'm a bit of a stickler for nautical tradition. So, after I got the name graphics, we pulled everything off of the boat that had the old names on them (Clear Horizon and Amiga). We also made sure that nothing with the new name had been taken on board. It was the 4th of July, and a couple of local live aboard folks (Sam and Dave) strolled over and helped in the celebration. I stood on the bow and invoked Poseidon to erase from memory and records the old names, tossed an ingot of metal with the old names written on it overboard, and dumped a bottle of huckleberry mead into the surrounding waters, as well a little on her bow ... and we toasted all of the previous owners and all who may have sailed aboard her in the past. Then I invoked the blessing of Poseidon for the newly renamed vessel, and all who might sail aboard her in the future. And I dumped more huckleberry mead. We invoked the blessings of Aeolus, ruler over the winds, and all of the lesser gods who help rule over the various cardinal winds ... and we made toasts ... and I sprayed champagne toward each of the four cardinal compass points. I also sprayed champagne onto the sails and asked for the blessings of the gentle breeze-nymphs (can't forget the nymphs - what's a boat without happy nymphs!). Finally, we made more toasts, dropped a silver dollar deep into the chain locker for the boat to have for all time (I can't get under the mast) and dumped a whole new bottle of champagne on the bow while asking blessings for the newly named craft, Lutra!! Afterward, Mad Dog and I affixed the new graphics to her stern quarters ... name and hailing port ... I could feel a new inspiration fill the hull ... and everything was just right!

So, a lot has been going on, and it's taking time. Especially since I can only get over to Lutra once a month or so, and usually only for a weekend. But I have to say, she feels like home. She feels safe and solid. She feels right! The nights I spend aboard are so peaceful ... and I sleep very well. And I love to sit in the cockpit, drinking a beer, and listening to music. Or just listening to the birds and the seals. I can only imagine how fine it will feel when we're actually anchored up somewhere drastically more isolated! I laid out on the deck one night earlier this July and watched the stars ... winning! There are odd, soft pops and poings that can be heard at times, while you lie in your bunk, below decks ... it's pretty cool. I think many people would freak out, but to me it's peaceful.

One quite amazing thing that I've come to love is the bioluminescence that sometimes occurs around the marina. Unfortunately, I don't have a camera that can capture it. I noticed that it was quite strong one night recently. The lightest touch or swirl of anything in the water caused a magnificent light show ... all kinds of silent explosions of bluish light ... very ghostly! We found that by taking the scrub brush, on a long handle, and easing the brush head straight down into the water, we could hold onto the end of the handle and then push quickly and forcefully straight down into the water ... a giant mass of bioluminescence would explode outward and down from the brush head, traveling down, deep into the water ... it was simply amazing! Yeah, I'm easily amused, and very much like a kid when it comes to creatures and phenomena of the watery kind.

Very soon we hope to be able to take her out for day sails. The nav lights still haven't been rewired, so, until then, we'll only be able to day sail around the local waters. I'll try and keep more updated on these posts.

The Survey

Ah yes, the dreaded survey! Purchasing a larger, live aboard, cruising-style sailboat was a first for me ... heck, I've never even purchased a house. So, trying to figure out and play the "buying" game was certainly new to me. Yes, I loved the boat, and yes, she seemed to sail just fine, and yes, she seemed to be water tight. All good things ... but. There's always a "but", right?

During the first look-over, my good friend Mad Dog and I had really torn the boat apart, checking all kinds of things. Looking at plumbing (hmmm), checking the bilge, looking over the engine, marveling at the electrical panel, etc. But I still felt that it would be prudent to have her hauled out of the water and have a surveyor run eyes over everything. While I spend a lot of time on boats, I'm not in the habit of critically eyeing everything ... especially from a non-biased position. You see, I WANTED everything to be OK, so I was going to see it in the best possible light. I figured a surveyor would be able to look at her in an un-glossed state.

So, I located a surveyor on my own, and made an appointment for him to take a good look at the boat. Unfortunately, because of the timing (it was going to be while I was across country, visiting family for Thanksgiving), I was not going to be able to be present during the survey. That seriously bummed me out.

However, the day came (the Friday before Thanksgiving), and the haul out happened, and the survey took place. And honestly, say what you will about brokers, I give Bob a major plus for actually calling me as the boat was being surveyed. He chatted with me about some of the things being observed. He was very up front about what was being seen, and I'm not sure that many brokers would do that, especially ones who are working on the seller's side.

Well, the survey was completed, and I received a very in-depth, no-holds barred report a couple of days later. I had been sitting on pins and needles waiting for this electronic document, and when it arrived, I read it with fear. However, even though there were a few things to consider, it wasn't all that bad. After reading the report, I called the surveyor, and we chatted about all of the concerns that he had. In the end, his final assessment was that she was actually a very fine boat, fit for crossing big, open water, and he would have no problem hopping on board and taking her on a long voyage, through any type of condition. Most of the major things that needed to be done to bring her back to good, safe condition were really only minor upkeep items that had been left too long.

Here's a list of the major dings:

1. The galvanic protection system did not appear to be functioning (not good, but easily fixed).

2. Because the galvanic system wasn't working, the prop had been destroyed (see photos below). But thankfully, the thru-hulls were in good, physical shape (non-corroded), and water tight.

3. The water lift muffler was old, made of metal, and was showing signs of corrosion (needed replacement).

4. All of the thru-hull valves were "stuck". They appeared to be in good condition, just hadn't been worked in a while, and needed to be "unstuck". Most were in an "open" condition and needed to be closed if she were to be left sitting at a marina unattended.

5. The navigation lights were non-functional, and needed rewiring.

6. Many of the hoses (drain scuppers, head, etc.) were old, and becoming brittle, and most all of their hose clamps were of inferior materials and corroded ... they needed to be replaced (see photos below).

7. The galley plumbing was a Rube Goldberg affair of rigid PVC ... the surveyors note was "there is no excuse ... get rid of it" (see photo below)!

8. The propane system needed a complete overhaul.

And really folks, that was about it, aside from a list of several other very minor things (make sure enough life vests are on board, affix the CG documentation number, make sure the required signal flares are present, install both a CO monitor and smoke detector, install a bilge high water alarm, etc.). Things that won't really "sink the boat", and won't "break the bank".

After going through it all, and making a few phone calls to get ideas on what it would cost to repair or replace the major items, I called Bob the Broker and we chatted about making a revised counter offer. I freely shared the survey with him and the owner, so that they weren't in the dark about why I was making a counter offer. Basically, I said, let's either drop the price and I buy her and fix the items myself, or the owner fixes the items, and we keep the initial agreed upon price the same. Bob was a little worried that the owner would balk at those terms, but he passed them along. Secretly, I think he was afraid of losing a tiny bit of commission if things went the way of a lower price. Anyway, it was the next day when Bob called me back and said that the owner agreed to the new terms: I buy her as is, for the new price, and I fix things on my dime. The only other thing they asked for was that I pay the two months of keeping the boat at the broker's berth at the marina. I decided that it really wasn't worth quibbling over, and said let's make the deal.

Here's how the price game went:

Initial asking price was $49,000
At my initial viewing, she had recently been reduced to $39,000
I offered $35,000 (pending survey results)
Owner countered with $36,000
After survey I countered with $33,000 - as is
Final price was $34,000 (I ended up paying two months of brokerage slip fees)
Fair market value was estimated at about $35,000
The estimated replacement value was $350,000 (keep in mind that she's a 1981 vintage, and you're not going to sell her for her full estimated replacement value)

So, I pretty much paid what she was worth ... not a bad deal.

And then, a few hours later, it struck me ... I just bought a boat ... a really nice boat! And I just couldn't wipe the grin off of my face!! It was one heck of a Thanksgiving!!

 

 

Check out the condition of that prop! It was truly toast, the color was not shiny yellow, but dull grey-blue, and if you tapped it with a hammer she didn't make a nice ringing sound, only a dull "thud" ... what the boatyard machinist called "dead metal".

Old and brittle hoses (head sink, upper photo ... cockpit scupper drain, lower photo) ... and the clamps were all corroded too.

And here's the offensive galley plumbing ... hard PVC ... ready to fall apart. Not good.

The Test Sail

A week had gone by since the offer was made and a conditional sale was on the line. Wendy and I flew in to Seattle from Boise, and my friend Mad Dog flew over from Moscow. We arrived at the brokerage, and everyone was ready to go. Since Bob the Broker didn't consider himself a terribly accomplished sailor (recall he is a self proclaimed power boat guy), he had enlisted Rob the Broker to help out. Rob was great ... very nice and knowledgeable, easy-going, and helpful. Apparently his hobby is finding old sailboats in need of repair, which he salvages and brings back to sailing condition ... he knows his stuff.

It was a beautiful day ... sunny, cool, and a nice steady wind blowing up the sound out of the south. The old Yanmar diesel fired right up, and she put-putted along nicely. We motored out of the marina, and out onto Puget Sound.  Once out on the big water, we raised the main, and unfurled the jib ... and she took off like a stately matron! Steady and true, with a defined purpose ... not wild and unruly. To me, it was sheer bliss.

As we headed west across the sound, Rob decided that he needed to do some line-keeping up forward, so he gave me the helm ... and I was like a kid in a candy store! I love the feel of sailing ... I love the heel of the boat ... and I love the peace and quiet! Wendy says that when I take the helm of a sailboat, it's like a visible mantle of calm and joy washes over me ... sailing is my nirvana. Lutra held a great course ... her full keel keeps her tracking right along ... it just took a light hand on the wheel.

The breeze picked up a bit, and Rob decided to test out the reefing. He and Mad Dog took her in one step ... and she kept cruising like a champ. I honestly can't describe the wonderful feeling of holding her on course ... watching the sails ... listening to the quiet swish of water along the hull. I could easily see this boat taking me across wide expanses of open ocean ... she's made for that kind of thing.

We maneuvered through a couple of tacks, and chatted and laughed, and finally headed her back toward the marina. Rob took the helm again as we approached the entrance to the marina, and we eased her back into a berth, tied up alongside a larger Tayana. Three hours had gone by, and we were all amazed ... as they say, time flies when you're having fun! We sat onboard for a little while longer and talked about her minimal systems (not a bad thing ... leaves her open for making things the way I'd like them), and how her lines could be changed around for more ease of handling. Bob the Broker said to me that he could see that they didn't need to try and "sell" the boat to me ... and he was right ... as far as I was concerned she was mine, we just had a few more formalities to go through.

Bob the Broker ... relaxing and doing what Bob does best ... lets a good boat sell herself:

Getting ready to shove off ... a mighty fine day for a sail:

Wendy and Mad Dog chatting with Rob ... Wendy smiled a lot while we were out, that's a big plus!

The main salon settee:

 

 

All in all, it had been a fine day ... and I was still pleased to be purchasing this wonderful boat! Next - the survey!

November 2013: The Adventure Begins

It was early November, 2013, and the plan was to go look at a couple of boats. I admit it, I had "boat fever", and just wanted to feel a deck under my feet. My old and good friend Mad Dog and I drove over to Seattle, WA, from Moscow, ID late on the fifth of November ... it was a six hour drive on a rainy Tuesday evening. We had appointments to look at two different (but similar) Ingrid 38 sailboats ... one on Wednesday, and another on Thursday, before returning to Moscow on Friday.

Wednesday morning we took the ferry out to where the first Ingrid was berthed, and were pretty excited about the prospect of "boat shopping"! While visiting the first Ingrid, we noticed a boat similar to a Hans Christian at the marina and made an inquiry about her ... turned out to be a Young Sun 35. Nice boat ... clean, nice lines, and well built ... but certainly a bit out of my price range. We did some further investigating into Young Sun boats that night, and found another for sale near where our second Ingrid appointment was located. Same year, same sail plan, basically the same boat but with a much reduced asking price. We endeavored to visit that YS Thursday afternoon.

Thursday dawned fairly nice ... a beautiful sunny day ... a bit cool, but a nice, crisp, fall morning. The second Ingrid was fairly nice. She needed some interior finishing work, but she felt good and solid ... and seemed to fit the bill. We spent three hours looking her over and discussing her pros and cons with the seller. Had to seriously consider this boat ... but I wanted to check out the second YS prior to making any kind of decision. And I really wasn't planning on making a purchase anyway.

By the time we arrived at Seattle Yachts at Shilshole Bay Marina, the weather had turned nasty ... cold, brisk, gusty winds, and driving rain! Bob the Broker wasn't too excited about taking us out to the boat, given the weather and being that we didn't have an appointment ... I think he considered us "hull kickers". He finally relented, and out through the pissy weather we trudged. Bob grumbled all the way; he was missing lunch, and wondering why anyone would want to look at a boat on a day as bad as that. We insisted there was no better day to look at a boat; if she showed well on a day that crummy, then she would likely be a keeper! Finally aboard, we pulled up floorboards, looked through all the cupboards and lockers, checked the bilge, perused the electronics board, paced the deck ... and Bob politely asked if we were smugglers.

Well, she was nice. Her name was "Amiga". She's a solid boat, clean, with a dry bilge ... no bad odors, lots of salty wood ... nice lines. I liked her. She felt good, snug and homey. Back in the office, while Bob finally had his hot soup lunch, Mad Dog and I looked over the most recent survey, from November 2012. Nothing screamed "BAD BOAT" ... so when Bob came back and asked what we thought, I said, "I'd like to buy her". Hmmm ... I couldn't believe I just said that ... and Bob was a bit stunned as well ... he really wasn't the broker for the sailboats (he's a power boat guy), and the broker who was supposed to be handling Amiga was not there that day. But he was patient with us, and walked me through the steps, as this was my first large boat purchasing experience.

The 2012 survey valued Amiga at $47K ... the owner (a recent widow) had originally put her on the market at $49K ... but after two months, she had just been reduced to $39K. I offered $35K ... and Dog and I ran to the bank to get a cashier's check cut for a 10% deposit. After returning to the marina, and dropping the deposit off with Bob, we shook hands, made our goodbyes, and headed back to Moscow. Bob's final question to us was, "Really, who are you guys"?!

Mad Dog and I ate dinner at a local pizza place in Ballard that night ... a place called something like the "The Flying Squirrel". It was a former Chinese restaurant, and had a very odd, eclectic feel to it. But it was good food, friendly service, and tasty beer. We chatted about the Young sun, and her potential, and I just felt very good about the whole deal. I was a bit excited about the prospect of owning her, but really didn't expect my offer to be taken seriously.

We arrived back in Moscow Friday afternoon, and as we were unloading Mad Dog's stuff from the car, my phone rang; it was Bob the Broker. The owner had considered my offer, and countered with $36K ... pretty much accepting my offer, but adding on $1K to cover her moorage costs with the brokerage. How could I not take this deal ... she was basically being handed to me on a silver platter? I liked the boat ... she seemed solid and seaworthy ... and the price was right ... I could easily afford her. But she was a bit smaller than I originally wanted (35 feet LOA as opposed to my wishes of 45) ... she had a forward V-berth (I wanted an aft berth) ... and she had teak decks (which I swore for years I would not have). But she felt like home when we sat around in the salon ... and she would be much easier to single or double hand ... she had a beautiful canoe-stern, a full keel, and from all accounts we had read, the Young Sun 35 was a true blue water cruiser. My bluff had been called, and now it was up to me to make a decision. The next thing I knew I had accepted the counter, pending a sea trial and a new survey ... and so the deal was fairly struck. And all I could do was smile!

(As a bit of a caveat, I'd like to say that I have been truthful about the finances here, and will continue to be. I would like others to know what kind of costs to expect when shopping for their dreams. I'd also like to publicly thank the former owner of Amiga for selling her to me ... I expect that it may have been a difficult decision, and I'm sure it was an emotional one ... thank you very much for helping me move closer to my dream of world cruising!)

Lutra (originally Clear Horizon, and more recently named Amiga) ... sitting peacefully at the Seattle Yachts brokerage docks, Shilshole Bay Marina, Seattle, WA (07 Nov 2013):



Lutra ... portside, looking forward (07 Nov 2013):




So, that's all for now ... next ... the sea trial!