CDI furler mystery
Posted: Tue Jun 24, 2014 9:20 am
I took the furler apart to check that what I call the sheer pins were intact. All looks fine. I tried to reassemble the thing and the large nail size pin that goes through the plastic cap secured by a ring ding wouldn’t go back through. I dinked with this thing for about 20 minutes, twisting and turning. Pulling the thing apart I can’t understand what function the pin serves. The furler was pinned to the forestay tang. I wasn’t going to sail so I just left it. Never had this problem in the distant past. I’m the only guy in the world this happens to but maybe someone out there understands what I’m missing.
Side notes: I planned to motor the boat from a ramp on the Taunton to a slip on the Sakonnet. I decided to go without ballast; you know, save a little gas. Nice calm day when I launched. Board and rudders up. By the time I reached Narragansett Bay the wind had freshened. The upper bay was full of whitecaps with a 20 knot breeze hitting me in the nose. The underpass of the Sakonnet River Bridge is expansive but I’m steering like a NASCAR driver trying to keep the nose in the wind. I feel like a ping pong ball in the rapids. A couple hairs from being completely out of control.
When I was in the clear I clunked the throttle to neutral to lower the centerboard a bit and drop a rudder. The boat spun around like a toy butt to the wind. I was now doing about 3 knots back to where I came from. A bubbling straight as an arrow wake. A good deal if that was where I was headed. No motor, no sails. Just sit back with a set of rosary beads. Ballast is a good thing.
It takes me close to three hours to rig. Remember that “Speedy Rigger” video? The guy flips the mast up with one hand and is off in 13 minutes. My mast now weighs about 200 pounds. I checked five times to see if it was snagged while hoisting; it wasn’t. I understand that it’s me. The Mate wanted me to move her old TV to the basement. One of those 34 inchers that’s as deep as it’s wide. Over the decades the thing turned into an unpickupable bolder. You will someday find as you creep into your seventies that things takes on monumental weight.
Sloop
Side notes: I planned to motor the boat from a ramp on the Taunton to a slip on the Sakonnet. I decided to go without ballast; you know, save a little gas. Nice calm day when I launched. Board and rudders up. By the time I reached Narragansett Bay the wind had freshened. The upper bay was full of whitecaps with a 20 knot breeze hitting me in the nose. The underpass of the Sakonnet River Bridge is expansive but I’m steering like a NASCAR driver trying to keep the nose in the wind. I feel like a ping pong ball in the rapids. A couple hairs from being completely out of control.
When I was in the clear I clunked the throttle to neutral to lower the centerboard a bit and drop a rudder. The boat spun around like a toy butt to the wind. I was now doing about 3 knots back to where I came from. A bubbling straight as an arrow wake. A good deal if that was where I was headed. No motor, no sails. Just sit back with a set of rosary beads. Ballast is a good thing.
It takes me close to three hours to rig. Remember that “Speedy Rigger” video? The guy flips the mast up with one hand and is off in 13 minutes. My mast now weighs about 200 pounds. I checked five times to see if it was snagged while hoisting; it wasn’t. I understand that it’s me. The Mate wanted me to move her old TV to the basement. One of those 34 inchers that’s as deep as it’s wide. Over the decades the thing turned into an unpickupable bolder. You will someday find as you creep into your seventies that things takes on monumental weight.
Sloop