OK, so here’s the blog you’ve been waiting for: the stuff that’s going wrong on our trip.
We have two diesel engines on this boat: a Yanmar 44 hp turbocharged 4-cylinder main engine (4JH-HTE), and a Yanmar 3-cylinder generator (commonly referred to as a genset)(3GM-FL). These two engines have performed flawlessly for us for the entire time we’ve owned the boat (since 1998).
If we are staying at an anchorage for more than one night, we would normally run the genset for about 45 minutes in the morning, and then another 45 minutes at night, to refresh the batteries.
We have several different ways we can charge our batteries: the genset; shore power when we have it; the alternator on the main engine; and solar power (we have one panel which can provide 6-8 amps on a sunny day …).
Pirates Cove Pirates Cove was one of our two-night stays, so during the full-day portion of our stay, we ran the genset in the morning. Then, when we attempted to start it that evening, it wouldn’t start. Neither would the main engine!!
Now, I have always been a little intimidated (terrified?) by engines, even though I grew up in rural Ontario, where you’d expect that exposure to tractors and other farm equipment would give one a certain comfort level with these things. A large diesel engine has always been a black box to me. I have learned where the solenoid is, because sometimes our “stop” button malfunctions, and I have to get down into the engine area and manually stop the motor.
So, there we were, with neither engine able to start, batteries slowly losing power (note that we have a LOT of battery power on the boat, somewhere in the neighbourhood of 800 amp hours. Six 12-volt batteries for our main “house” bank, which drives all the onboard stuff like lights, water pressure, electronics, etc.; a separate battery for the main engine starter; another separate battery for the genset starter; and finally a large separate battery for the bow thruster). The problem with the main engine appeared to be insufficient battery power. Somewhere I’d read that there was a way to combine all our batteries into one giant bank of batteries, so we got all our manuals out, and Jane found the way to do it. Once combined, there was enough power to start the main engine, which we then used to charge the batteries.
The following morning, we were still unable to start our genset, and we were very concerned about our batteries, as the starter battery should have been strong enough to start the engine. We decided to change our plans, and go to Secret Cove to get help, as I’d read that this was a good place to resupply going north (which we are).
Secret Cove
So, we went to Secret Cove. Once we got there, it looked pretty quiet. Jane asked why we had come here; I re-explained that this was, according to the book, a good place to get supplies, access to marine equipment, diesel mechanics, etc. Jane re-read the book, and pointed out that we should have gone to Secret Bay, not Cove. However, we were here now. It was raining: we anchored, and I dinghied over to the only marina we could see. At this point, what we thought we needed were new batteries for the main engine starter and the genset starter, so that’s what I bought. We took them back to the boat, and swapped the old ones out and the new ones in.
Nothing happened. We couldn’t start either engine. As luck would have it, John, from the marina, was passing our anchorage in his work boat. I hailed him, and he came over. I invited him aboard to have a look, and before he even looked at anything he asked whether there was water in the engine. I said I wasn’t sure, so he opened the air intake, and water flooded out. My heart sank, I thought oh no, we need a new genset, but he advised us that this wasn’t unusual, and that the engine could easily recover. ‘All’ (!!) we had to do is remove the injectors, turn the fly wheel until the water was out of all the valves, then put it back together and it should start. He didn’t have time to help us; he was three weeks behind as it was …
Ha! Those instructions were pretty much a lot of gibberish to me. Well, after a long discussion with Jane, we decided to try it. We got out the manuals, read them, re-read them, and finally tackled the job. We got the injectors out, turned the fly wheel (that was the hard part, because of the way the engine sits in the genset compartment, I had to turn it by pushing the fan belt), tons of water came out, then we carefully put the whole thing back together again, and HOLY COW!!!!! IT STARTED !!!!! With a ton of smoke, but it started!!
We were VERY happy! I went back to John the next morning, told him that it worked. He told me that after he left us the previous night, he’d remembered that there might be compression release levers on the engine, which would get rid of the water without having to disassemble anything. Once back on the boat, we looked at the engine, looked at the manuals, and sure enough, we have compression release levers. Even so, the experience we got taking those injectors out was invaluable.
Chatterbox Falls
Arriving at Chatterbox Falls, at the top of Princess Louisa Inlet, we dropped anchor, and then prepared to do a shore tie (this is a technique whereby you fix yourself in place by having the anchor holding you at the bow, and a line from your boat to the shore to hold your stern. This way your boat doesn’t swing around, as it normally would due to wind and current). We shut down the main engine, then I dinghied to shore with a line, to tie it to a ring fixed to a rock. We would normally now have used the engine to reverse towards shore, to shorten the distance and tighten ourselves up between the land and the anchor. But the engine would not start.
Tried to start the genset. It wouldn’t start again, and we made use of the decompression levers: a ton of water came out, but once the water was out, we were able to start it. Once the batteries were recharged, we were also able to start the main engine.
Princess Louisa inlet was another two-night stay: the following morning we started the genset (no problem). Then, for good measure, we started the main engine. No problem.
The following morning, we prepared to leave. We attempted to start the main engine: nothing happened. After about half an hour of trying, we realised that something was very wrong. As it happened, there were quite a few trawlers at the dock, and I went over to see it anyone could help. Well, everyone was willing to help! First, Larry came over and towed us with their dinghy over to the dock. Then, Harold from the Madeira II came on board, tried to start the engine, listened to what was happening, and felt fairly certain that there was water in the engine. I had already looked at the injectors on the engine, and knew that removing them would be a much more difficult job than it had been on the genset. However, Harold suggested a much easier solution: loosen the bolts on the manifold, and the water would be able to get out that way. We looked at the manuals (our boat is blessed with an extensive library of manuals for everything aboard …), and Harold went back to his boat and returned with an impressive array of tools. We were able, after a lot of work, to get the manifold loose enough to let water out, and sure enough, there was a lot of water in the engine! I was able to get easy access to the flywheel, and with great difficulty I turned the flywheel until all the water was out.
We put it all back together, and sure enough (again with a great billow of white smoke) the engine started!!
All the while, there was much speculation on what the problem was, and why both engines had failed essentially at the same time when there was no significant connection between the two. They share a common sea water intake, and share a common fuel supply, but that’s it …
By this time, it was too late to leave, so we spent another night at Chatterbox Falls.
Pender Harbour
The next morning, everything seemed to be working, so we left Chatterbox Falls, and motored to Pender Harbour, where we hoped to figure out what the problem was. We radioed ahead to arrange for a mechanic to come down and give us an assessment of the problem. Chuck, from Pender Diesel, came to the boat about a half hour after we docked, and had a look: suggested that it was either our mixing elbow (beyond the scope of this blog!) or our muffler.
Once there, at the dock, we tested a few things, but everything seemed to be still okay. But we had a nagging feeling that we hadn’t found the problem.
[An interesting note: while rummaging around the genset, I realised that the foam air filter was disintegrating. While in the general store looking for some kind of substitute, I left the air filter cover on the floor. I looked around, and a man was peering down at the cover, and when I walked back, he said “Yanmar air filter”. Turned out he was a diesel mechanic, name of Garfield. I was very impressed! He also gave me a substitute for the foam: wrap a stainless steel scouring pad around the core inside the air filter cover …]
Squirrel Cove
We left Pender Harbour, went to Squirrel Cove, still everything seemed okay. However, the following morning the main engine was again full of water, this time in a secluded anchorage … We knew what to do, but still didn’t have the proper tools: luckily Ken from Veritas III nearby had the socket wrench sizes we needed, and after a couple of hours we got the main engine working again. This time we determined to go to a town where the facilities existed to sort this out once for all, and we headed for Campbell River.
Campbell River
Once there, we contacted Altech Marine, and Terry came out to have a look. He took out the mixing elbow (!!) to test it back at the shop. He also mentioned that the anti-siphon valves needed to be looked at, as they were one of the main causes of water in the engine.
We located two anti-siphon valves: we assumed they were for the main and genset, but they didn’t appear to be connected. One was a strange type of anti-siphon, which had a small air tube coming out the top, and leading to a vent at the stern, which was connected to a second similar tube coming from somewhere else. We didn’t pay a lot of attention to the second tube.
The following morning Terry came back. He said there was nothing wrong with the mixing elbow. We checked the two anti-siphon valves, they seemed to be okay. Terry left.
I decided to try to find out where the second tube on the stern vent was coming from. After some searching, I found it: another anti-siphon valve!! This was the one actually being used by the genset!! We had found a connection between the two engines, and Terry had said that anti-siphon valves were a common cause of water getting into the engine. We went back to where the tubes met at the stern: they met, then they could either go out the stern through an air vent, or though a through-hull close to the water line. We did a test: we disconnected the tube from the main engine anti-siphon valve, and then started up the genset. Sure enough, a small but steady stream of water started flowing out of the tube at the main engine anti-siphon valve: if not disconnected, it would have been flowing into the engine!!
After more investigation, we discovered that the through-hull was blocked! It turned out that a rag had been left in the hole after they painted the hull (all the through-hulls had been blocked, to prevent them getting painted over). After a bit of work, we got the cloth out.
In the meantime, we’ve equipped ourselves with an impressive array of tools, so that if it happens again, we’ll at least have the wherewithal to fix it.
Port McNeill
In Port McNeill, I changed the fuel filter on the genset, and then couldn’t bleed the air out of the system. It took two days of work, then I gave up and called a mechanic, who managed to bleed it after a lot of work, dong pretty much what I had been doing, but he was just a little more brutal about it than I had been …
Thanks to a tree stump !
Eoin's Family Pic