Coming out of the water   Thursday 09/03/2023

Apologies for not writing anything for so long. I have been sorting out a few things and there has not seemed to be very much to report. Last week went down to Panama City, on a shopping expedition really, and stayed the night, but nothing exciting about that…

Yesterday Manuka came out of the water. There’d been a delay, largely because of equipment issues in the boatyard, but finally it’s done. It is the first time since leaving the UK that she has been out. Overdue really – more than two years is a long time.

I am posting some pictures here… There’s nothing of her just coming out because I stayed on board through the process. There wasn’t really a choice: I motored into the middle of the dock and then threw four lines to the guys on shore, securing her in the centre of it. As a result I couldn’t get off! (I suspect that health and safety rules would not allow someone to be on a boat being hoisted out of the water in the UK, but such rules don’t apply here).

It was certainly a strange experience to be lifted high into the air, and then be shifted away from the dock, standing on deck. Once she was over land a ladder was put up to the stern, allowing me to get off. I’m staying on the boat, so at present I’m living up in the air – feels a bit like being in a treehouse!

I got talking to a Venezuelan called Carlos who is working on an adjacent much bigger boat – he’s going to do the cleaning and sanding work. It seems that virtually all the guys doing work on boats here are either Venezuelans or Colombians. This sort of hard work doesn’t seem to appeal to locals, even though this area is clearly pretty poor and local men at best seem to be under-employed (reminds me of the UK!). Having a bit of Spanish is proving to be very useful in these negotiations – particularly because it means that you can be sure that what you want is actually understood. (I feel particularly sympathetic towards the Venezuelans because their country has been utterly ruined by a terrible government – it’s the Zimbabwe of Latin America).

Travel lifts are extraordinary pieces of equipment. The capacity of the one here is apparently 160 tonnes – meaning that Manuka, with a displacement of only 7.9 tonnes, was light work. Although I don’t claim to be an expert, everything that was under water looks ok. There was some growth on the hull, but a jet wash and then light scraping gets rid of that very quickly. It appears that the Coppercoat that I had applied to her before I set out is working relatively well, limiting the growth of barnacles and anything else. I scraped a fair bit of the hull  yesterday – using just the wooden edge of a scrubbing brush – while a guy was jet washing. Still quite a bit to do though, including cleaning the propellor and it’s shaft (which are not protected by Coppercoat), and then sanding lightly with fine sandpaper to reactivate the copper. Copper remains the best retardant against marine growth, and although Coppercoat is expensive to apply, it allegedly should last for 10 years. So it basically pays for itself – boats that are simply painted with marine grade paint will typically come out of the water once a year, be cleaned and sanded and then repainted, which obviously means quite high ongoing expenses.

I’m waiting on a mechanic to service the engine. It feels fine, but this is crucial maintenance I think. It’s a very simple diesel engine and if properly maintained (by an expert, not by me!) it will hopefully have a very long life.

Have enjoyed being here in the marina. Different people coming and going, a friendly atmosphere, always people to talk to. And of course good weather. As it heats up a bit, there has been very little rain – December and January saw much more.