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Thank you for sharing in our journey of building and sailing a Fusion Catamaran! We are so excited to be able to chronicle our adventure for family, boat and land friends, and supporters, from the initial decision to our cruising life "down island". Please post your comments, questions, and cautionary tales-we love to hear from you!







Saturday, September 8, 2012

What We Did on Our Summer Vacation


It has been a long, hot summer here in Florida, and XYZZY is slowly coming together, taking shape furtively under a big, blue tarp.  The summer rains and winds have hampered the work, and blew apart our gantry crane.  In the last few weeks, we've been able to note some steady progress, and finally, recognizable parts are starting to emerge.  We hope to have the coach roof in place this week, or next, and when it is, we will go visit to take more pictures and have our first umbrella drinks in our cockpit!

But in the meantime, I thought I would regal our readers with a (true) tale of "What We Did on Our Summer Vacation".  After all, school has started, and isn't that every student's first assignment?  So read our true tale, and after you're through, you will understand why we've been kind of lying low since then.

What We Did on Our Summer Vacation
by Dennis & Debi Jansma
 
We dream about cruising, we’ve been planning for it, and we’re building the boat to do it in.  But one can only learn so much from webinars, books, and seminars about offshore passage making, so when the opportunity came along this past June to participate in a trip from Bermuda to Newport Rhode Island, we jumped at the chance!  Ron, from our sailing club, would be racing a 41-foot C&C sloop in the Newport-Bermuda race, and was looking for a crew to help bring the boat back to its home port. 
We were hesitant; Ron and his wife Dottie, as well as the other couple, Marc and Cathy, had all had quite a bit of offshore experience, and I felt we might not have much to contribute.  But Ron assured us the route was well-travelled with a lot of boats returning to the US east coast, and that we would be a welcome addition.  So, we put our hats in the ring and accepted!

During the weeks leading up to the June 15 start of the race, the six of exchanged numerous emails, and plans began to emerge.  The five of us (as part of the race, Ron would already be in Bermuda) would fly to Bermuda arriving mid-week before our planned weekend departure.  This would give us a couple of days to sight see, provision for the return passage, and get acquainted with the boat. 
I held a pre-race dinner to review our plans and settle details; we went over emergency equipment, sail plans, packing lists, timetables, and watch schedules.  Weather monitoring was discussed; we received daily emails from Jenifer Clark regarding the Gulfstream activity, and Ron explained how we would chart our route to take advantage of the eddies and meanders in such a way that they would aid rather than impede our progress.  Weather reporting would be available each day, with updates throughout the day, via Commander’s Weather on the computer, as well as speaking with Jenifer’s husband Dane via sat phone for further interpretation; services that the boat’s owner had contracted for the race, and that would continue through the return passage.  In addition, our boat, Avenir, would be outfitted with Yellow Brick, a tracking aid that would show the boat’s location and progress via a website in real time.  Additionally, we would have VHF, AIS and radar-all the toys to keep us safe and on the grid.

Ron anticipated leaving Bermuda on Sunday June 24, and making it back to Newport in a four-five day run.  As the usual wind pattern is from the southwest at that time of year, it looked to be a straightforward push without a lot of tacking or course-changing.  I was a bit nervous because we’d already had two named storms, even though it was early in the hurricane season, and asked how this would impact the return.  “Well, we won’t be racing, so if we have to take our time and wait for a weather window, then we will, even though tropical systems at this time of year are fairly rare,” Ron assured us.  I thought of the many times I had heard the axiom “never sail on a schedule” during the classes and talks, and agreed wholeheartedly.
During our dinner meeting, we had a chance to “meet” Avenir’s owner, Joe, on a Skype call.  He was very enthusiastic about the upcoming race, and went into details on the brand-new carbon fiber rudder he had installed just recently.  The crew had taken Avenir and her new rudder on a test run, and in light winds the rudder performed admirably, and the boat was very responsive to steering.  The previous race they’d placed third in their class, and conditions looked right for a first or second place trophy this time around. 

As the race began on June 15, we watched Avenir’s progress, and she stayed in the in the top third to half of the boats of various classes.  The wind direction for the race start was unexpectedly from the NE, and so the racers had a straight shot down the rhumb line to Bermuda.  This resulted in record-breaking finish times with the boat Rambler finishing in 39 hours, 39 minutes and 18 seconds; this shaved over 14 hours from the previous fastest time recorded! But mid-race, as we watched on Yellow Brick, we observed Avenir slowing her progress, as wind speeds increased.  This seemed very strange to us, but we pushed the questions to the back of our minds as we headed for the airport.
 
Arriving on the morning of June 20 at the RBYC (Royal Bermuda Yacht Club), we scanned the posting for Avenir’s finish time. They’d only placed 12 out of 15 vessels in their class?  Coming up the pier to meet us, Ron immediately said, “I have an excuse for the poor showing!  The new rudder doesn’t seem to hold its course well in winds over 20 knots; she kept rounding up and we couldn’t stay on course, so we ended up taking the main down entirely, and sailing on just the headsails for the entire second half of the race!”  I was immediately alarmed; besides feeling badly for the racers, I wondered what impact this would have on our return prospects.  I posed this question, and Ron replied that we would not be racing on the return, and could afford to reduce sail, or sail off-course for a time, to accommodate the problem.  Dennis voiced his opinion that the new rudder might be undersized for the boat under high wind pressure.  The shake-down race had been in light winds and hadn’t fully stressed the rudder-probably not a realistic test under a full range of elements for such a crucial component.


The next two days were busy with some sightseeing, dinner with the race crew, and meetings at the boat.  We went over the engine maintenance, the medical kit, the location of key emergency items, and provisioning.  By Thursday, June 21 we started hearing reports of a tropical storm forming in the Gulf of Mexico.  If it became organized this would become TS Debby.  We received the following weather update from Jenifer and Dane Clark’s weather routing service:
Newport Race Returns,
Weather models continue to show heavy weather along the rhumbline back to the states from late Monday to late Wednesday next week.  One US model (GFS) shows a strong tropical storm rapidly moving up the east coast Tuesday and Wednesday that might impact southeast New England Wednesday.
 The models maybe over-developing this system, but to play it safe we can't ignore the wind and wave intensity currently being forecast.  As a result of these forecasts, the last day for most boats to safely leave Bermuda is tomorrow (Thursday. An early Friday departure for the very fastest boats may still work.
The next window out of Bermuda looks to be the following Thursday (June 28)! 
 Most of the models seemed to show Debby moving to the west toward Texas; only two tracks showed the storm crossing Florida and heading up the US east coast.  The boat in the slip next to us rushed their preparations and pulled out late Thursday to be away in advance of the weather. But Marc and Cathy, our two other crew members, were just arriving late Thursday evening, so there was no way we would be ready to depart that day.

Friday, June 22: All six of us congregated at the boat; Dennis and I were really nervous.  Ron explained that in addition to Debby’s unclear path, there was now a cold front off the northeast US coast, which appeared to be moving southeast and would likely intercept our route somewhere along the return passage.  The maximum winds along the front looked to be 35 knots, for a 5-6 hour duration.  But Ron expressed confidence that Avenir could safely handle up to 50 knots with the appropriate sail plan, which he’d had previous experience with during an earlier return trip.  “But Ron,” I asked, “How is that scenario impacted by the compromised rudder?” He looked back at me and assured us it would be fine.  As a newbie, I didn’t feel I could continue to push the issue, but I did not feel satisfied with the answer.  After some additional back and forth, we decided to do the dry goods provisioning Friday, and meet again the following morning to make a final decision whether to leave Saturday, or to attend the awards ceremony at the governor’s palace Saturday evening, and leave Sunday morning as planned. 
 
Saturday June 23: Ron and Dottie came by our hotel at 8AM to use the Internet and review the latest weather and storm predictions. The cold front was still in place off the coast of New England travelling southeast, and Debby still appeared to be heading to Texas.  Two models, however, still showed that Debby would cross over Florida and head up through the Atlantic.  Going down to the boat, we found Marc and Cathy stowing the last of the perishables they had purchased that morning.  Ron announced that, although the departure for either Saturday or Sunday seemed to be equally good, he would like to attend the awards ceremony, and plan for an early departure Sunday morning the 24.  Debby, he indicated, did not appear to be a factor, and the cold front would present us with a short but predictable window of maximum 35-knot weather, which we’d be able to negotiate without issue.  With a feeling of unease, Dennis & I went off to finish up laundry, and make arrangements for the next day.

Sunday June 24: The day dawned clear and fair, as we cleared customs at the yacht club, stowed our bags and prepared to get underway.  As we motored out the through the channels leading around Bermuda to the Spit Buoy, we all took turns at the wheel, and learned the sail configurations.  The water was a deep, indescribable shade of brilliant blue, the wind was 7-8 knots from the south and it was truly the “Happy Valley” weather Ron promised us.  That night, Dennis and I had the 6PM-9PM watch, and the water was bright with bioluminescence as we watched fellow passage makers on the AIS screen. It was a great first day!
 
Monday June 25: Six hours later, at 3AM, we stood our second watch, and as everyone else awakened, Ron and Marc called in for a weather update.  TS Debby had surprised almost everyone and turned to the east, coming over Florida.  The new prediction was that the storm would weaken over land, but then strengthen as it headed up through the Atlantic.  It appeared that it would be heading our way, but Ron felt it would be after we had made it into Bristol.  But even more disturbingly, the cold front we had expected to encounter during the day Tuesday had sped up and increased in intensity.  It was now expected to hit maximum winds of 45 knots with sustained gusts, and would be meeting up with us later Monday night into early Tuesday.  Dane Clark, the weather guru, was advising all boats to turn back, but so far none had done so.  I glanced at Dennis, who muttered, “Lemmings” under his breath.  Ron explained that, if we did turn back, the front would still catch us, probably just at the time we’d be trying to make it into the harbor, and we’d then have to wait another week until the effects of Debby cleared out.  The best plan, he felt, was to reef down during the latter part of the day, and by dark we would be sailing under just the storm jib and trysail.  That sail plan could hold us securely up to 50 knots, and the front would pass quickly. 



Later Monday afternoon, the wind began building, clocking around to the SSW, and Ron decided it would be best to move to the storm configuration right away, especially since we weren’t overly familiar with the sail setup.  Best to have everything ready and prepared, even if it would cost us some time.  By 6PM that evening, the winds had increased to between 14 and 18 knots, and on our current course, we were running crosswise to the seas.  Dennis & I stood the 9PM-midnight watch, and as everyone else tried to rest, the winds and seas kept building.  By the last hour of watch, the winds were steadily in the 22-25 knot range, with some higher gusts, and I could not hold the wheel to the course.  Just before watch change, the rain began driving in earnest as we approached the front.
 
Tuesday June 26  Midnight-6AM: Marc and Cathy took the midnight to 3AM watch; Ron joined them on deck about 2AM.  The hatches were all closed up, but the companionway door was clear Lexan, so I could watch the three of them in the cockpit battle the ever-rising wind and seas.  The evening meal the night before had been a spicy jambalaya, which wasn’t sitting well with Dennis, and despite the Dramamine, he was vomiting fairly regularly.  Conditions below were far too rolly to do anything other than stay put in the berth; there was no question that I should have listened to myself and prepared some easy-to-grab food and drink the previous night.  Around 4AM Cathy came below, and I could see Marc and Ron in full storm regalia, trying to keep the boat on course.  Cathy and I discussed that we might need to have Dennis picked up if we couldn’t get the vomiting under control, and he decided to try some of the Zofran medication left on the ship. Somehow I dozed off as we listened to the boat creak and shudder, valiantly trying to stay its course while being pushed aside by the winds.  At 6AM I awoke just in time to see Cathy at the companionway door, saying “That’s it, we’ve lost it!”  “What did we lose?” I asked groggily.  “The rudder”, she said in a despairing, ragged voice, “the rudder just snapped off and floated away!”

I turned to Dennis, who was awake in his bunk, still dry heaving intermittently.  “Now what?” I asked.  “Now?  Now we’re screwed,” he replied in a quiet voice. 
 
Cathy began to call on the VHF, trying to hail any other ship in the area, but was getting no acknowledgement that anyone even heard her.  Finally, she used the sat phone to call the boat’s owner, who immediately called the Coast Guard.  We determined that Avenir did not seem to be taking on water, and Marc and Ron deployed the drogue to try and maintain the boat’s stability. They also tried to position the sails in a “heave-to” configuration, although without a rudder, it didn’t seem to help much.  Despite their efforts, we were being tossed about mercilessly in the cabin below, as we tried to figure out what should happen next.  Rescue efforts were being discussed, but Ron and Marc wanted to deploy a makeshift rudder fashioned from the cabin floorboards, and the spinnaker pole.  “That is only going to work in 5-10 knots of wind, at most,” Dennis called out weakly from his bunk.  “But, we have to try,” said Ron. “If we can get that working, we can sail back to Bermuda with the boat under limited sail.”   I just shook my head; in all my wildest dreams I had not thought I’d signed up for this: afloat in a rudderless vessel 220 miles offshore from Bermuda, with over 400 miles to go before reaching our destination.


During the sat phone conversations with the owner, it was determined that there was a Norwegian Cruise Lines ship within about 50 miles of us (they had actually passed us by during the night, on their way to Bermuda.) As the Zofran Dennis had been taking didn’t seem to be having much effect, and since he could not keep any food or water down, we thought it would be best if at least Dennis was taken off the ship, and I was determined to go with him.  The previous night’s dinner had not been sitting well with me either, and I couldn’t really see myself staying on as a fifth wheel (literally) while we slowly made our way under temporary rudder back to Bermuda. 
Tuesday June 26 8AM: The NCL ship Norwegian Star had been detoured to come back to us, and would be arriving about noon, but at this point they were only expecting to be taking Dennis & me off the ship.  I dozed off again, not paying any attention to the temporary rudder effort underway:  Ron and Marc pried up the floorboards of the cabin and laid them out.  With a drill, they bored holes to attach U-bolts that had been purchased as a last minute thought, just before we’d left Bermuda. 


I woke again, and looked dazedly at the upset faces around me.  “What happened?” I asked Dennis.  “The rudder didn’t hold,” he said.  “It didn’t last 10 seconds.”
 “That’s it!” Cathy shouted, “I’m calling them to tell them all six of us are coming on board!  We have no choice!”  Marc mumbled something about staying on board with Ron until a salvage boat could tow them back, and Cathy gave him an ultimatum: “I’m going, and if you don’t come, you are on your own!”  After some further discussion, they communicated that all six of us would be leaving the ship.

Cathy, Ron and Marc began getting things ready above.  The drogue line was shortened, sails were put away.  Cushions were stowed.  Our ship’s call sign was mounted along the lifelines, so the identification numbers of the boat would be easily visible with binoculars.  The Yellow Brick tracker was lashed more firmly to the stern railing outside; this would be the only way a salvage boat would be able to find the ship with certainty, after we had departed.  Inside the cabin, we began finding our most important items to bring with us: cellphones, passports, cash, credit cards.  The instructions from the captain of the Norwegian Star were that we would have to don “Gumby” suits-watertight, head-to-toe, one-piece rescue suits-and we could only bring what would fit inside our pockets.  I looked at Dennis: we’d have to leave behind all of our clothes, laptop computer, the dive bag we’d used in Bermuda with our dive gear, toiletries.  The enormity of what was happening began to sink in; I would most likely never see any of this “stuff” again.  But the alternative of floating indefinitely on the boat seemed a far worse consequence.
 
I began to dig through our bags and found a couple extra pair of underwear, a jacket, and extra pairs of shorts.  Both Dennis and I put on extra layers of clothing, and I made Dennis stuff my iPad (in a waterproof case) down the front of his shirt.  At least I would have a way to stay in touch and work!

When the NCL Star arrived, we all made our way to the cockpit, and watched as they launched a rescue RIB.  They radioed that they would first drop off the suits, and then take three of us off at a time.  As we watched, both Cathy and I began to cry-tears of relief at that point, rather than fear.  Then we looked up at the balconies of the massive cruise ship.  The decks were crowded to overflowing with hundreds-probably thousands-of passengers watching!  “Look!” I said to Cathy, “we are going to be today’s leading story!”  “Oh, my God”, she moaned, “We’ll probably end up on YouTube!”
 
Dennis was to be the first off the ship, and as he fell/stumbled into the RIB, overheated in his suit and many layers of clothes, I heard a massive cheer go up from the crowd!  Dennis pumped his hand into the air as he landed, to the delight of the picture takers.  Next off was Dottie, and the RIB approached as she sat on the gunwale, waiting for them to be close enough.  The RIB couldn’t quite get the right angle, and ended up turning for another try.  The crowd groaned and booed.  As they got it right the second time, they cheered again.

Eventually all six of us were hoisted to the deck of the NCL Star, and herded into wheelchairs, on our way to the infirmary.  Well-wishers and curious passengers pressed up to the caution tape, snapping pictures left and right.  In the sick bay, Dennis was hooked up to an IV as a precaution against dehydration.  We were given two rooms: a boys’ room and a girls’ room, with bunk beds, and a toiletry package.  It seemed like a luxury hotel to us; the toilet didn’t move away every time you tried to sit, and we had a real shower and bed with a mattress.  Although we could sense the slight movement of the massive ship, it was rock-steady compared to Avenir, and we marveled that some of the passengers were actually seasick from the relatively gentle sway of the cruise liner. 
Leaving Dennis in the infirmary with happy juice to sleep off his nausea, we hit the cafeteria, and began piling food on our plates like mad people. We were wearing shorts, a complimentary T-shirt from NCL and paper slippers (none of us had thought to bring shoes, which wouldn’t fit inside the rescue suit).  As I was standing in line for ice cream, the woman behind me whispered to her companion, “Do you think those poor people are here on the ship NOW?”  “Of course they are, dear.  Where else would they go?” her companion whispered back.  I just smiled and said nothing; anonymity was a blessed feeling.

Wed, June 27, 8 AM: The ship docked back in Bermuda, where we had just left from less than three days earlier.  It felt like an eternity had passed, yet the Star had retraced our path in only 18 hours.  The NCL crew was wonderful to us, and there was no charge for either our accommodations or any of the food aboard. They helped us clear BACK through customs, and it took a LOT of explaining before the officials understood how we came to be entering the country again so soon.  Luckily, the same customs official that we’d cleared out with at the RBYC was magically on board the NCL, and she remembered us.  Once back in Bermuda, we tried to get same day flights to New York, where we were supposed to be helping my son and daughter-in-law move into a new apartment.  All the flights were leaving too early for us to catch, so we booked a hotel room near the airport, and settled in to catch up on emails, call family members, repurchase basic clothing, toiletries, and gifts for people back in the US, and have a few drinks at the Swizzle Inn (the Swizzle is the national drink of Bermuda)!
 
All the while we just kept looking at each other, shaking our heads, and reliving the whole experience.  How had things gotten to the point where abandoning the ship was our only safe option?  What if we hadn’t had the sat phone?  We might have drifted until someone decided we hadn’t been in touch and came looking!  In the end, we concluded we should just have waited for a better weather window, even if that had meant staying in Bermuda for an extra week.  Since we’d been the newbies in the group, we hadn’t felt comfortable pushing that opinion, but we resolved, in the future, to listen to ourselves, and err more on the side of caution with our decisions.  Our mantra has always been: three bad decisions can create a disaster, and that certainly held true for this near miss! One thing was for sure: we’d certainly learned a lot about what to do and not to do on a passage, and that saying, “Don’t sail on a schedule”? Absolutely spot on!

Epilogue: We flew back to New York on Thursday, June 28, and helped our kids move into their new apartment.  Ron attempted to coordinate a salvage mission from Bermuda, which was unsuccessful, and eventually flew back to Bristol, where a salvage tug was hired.  The CO left on July 5 to tow Avenir back to Rhode Island. When the tug caught up to her, he reported, “She’s floating on her (water) lines, and looks to be fine!”  Three weeks after our rescue, Avenir finally returned to Bristol, and Dennis flew up to clean up and bring back our stuff.  The contents of the cabin were just as we’d left them; only a couple of items had started growing a fuzzy, grey mold.  Even the leftover jambalaya in the pressure cooker on the gimbaled stove was intact, although Cathy gave strict orders to toss it out unopened.  Amazingly, we recovered almost all of our items.  We left Avenir to the owner, to be cleaned up, repaired, and investigate what had gone wrong with the brand new rudder.
 


 
Most people we tell our story to have asked whether I'm ever going on another boat, or whether we're abandoning our boat build.  To be honest, that never really crossed my mind during that very long night...but I definitely think I will stick to catamarans from here on out!  Many thanks to Ron, Dottie, Cathy, and Marc, for being wonderful crewmates and for weathering the storms with us.

 

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

From Prep to Stage I

In the weeks since the last post, our build has come quite a long ways, and we have quickly completed the Prep stage and entered Stage I.  By the end of the first stage, the exterior of the boat, and most of the component pieces will be assembled into a fairly complete shell.  Of course, like many things in life, there is far more on the inside than meets the eye on the outside, and the following four stages will concentrate on the interior, and systems, such as plumbing, electrical, rigging, engines, etc.

During Andrew's visit, all of the shipped pieces were checked to make sure there were no faulty manufacturing issues, and that all were accounted for.  Then the assembly began.  One of the first pieces to be put together were the mini keels on the bottom of the hulls, which makes perfect sense, if you think of building from the bottom up! 


Here the plug for the mini keel was first ground and sanded smooth, as shown on the right hull.  The mini keel shell was then carefully fitted over top of it, with the edges carefully trimmed, and fiberglassed into place.  We see the completed assembly on the left hull.

Once these dried, the hulls were then flipped over and lifted into the jig, to become the first part of our boat.  Here, Andrew watches anxiously as the first hull is lowered into place.


Next, looking from the front of the vessel-to-be, we can see the large champfer panels fitted on each side and the bridgedeck that joins them in place across the front.  The seams were sanded and epoxied into place with small wooden tabs (squares) holding the seam together, sort of like band aids, until it completely dried.



Going around to the rear of the boat, we can see a similar process with the two sugar scoops and the stern bulkhead forming the stern of the boat. 


Fitting more of the major pieces into place, we can now see almost a complete skeleton, and I am already imagining stepping out the door from the salon to the cockpit, holding an umbrella drink!


Next the crew moved to the underside of the front and back, fitting the bulkheads that will support the stairs, cockpit, and salon entrance:


These steps, while they look very impressive, are really just all about initial fitting and measuring.  We watched this progression excitedly via our remote camera, and then one day, the skeleton was dismantled and it appeared as if we were back to square one! But once the rough fitting had been completed, each piece had to be separately, carefully ground and sanded, with the edges trimmed to fit together exactly, and then glued into place.


Each seam of every piece is glued, and then a special unidirectional fiberglass mat is epoxied in several overlapping layers on the seams to strengthen them.  The layers start large and then get smaller with each subsequent covering, for maximum strength and bonding.  This special mat is something that is not commonly used here in the US, and had to be ordered specially, but it's use was highly recommended by Fusion.


The team worked together in a well-rehearsed rhythm; above Jake pays close attention to the mix of resin and hardener in the glue, before handing it off to Paul, who was doing the application.  This is a sensitive job, because too much hardener will cause the glue will dry before it's smoothed into place, and not enough means it will not dry properly.  It's also a really messy job, and by the end of the day, everyone was itchy because of the fiberglass. 


Here you can see the tedious process of sanding each individual piece to fit the ones next to it, and trimming the edges so it's completely ready for the bonding process.  This is where the team's attention to detail and their patience in getting each edge just right will pay off with a beautiful product in the end-strong and well-fit.  I think of my efforts at painting or wallpapering, which I love the end result of, but the endless hours of preparation needed drive me crazy!! 


Here you can see the rear beam (one half is an exterior finish and the other is unfinished, an interior part), ready for bonding and glassing.  It's a lot like playing with giant Legos or a jigsaw puzzle, but these preparation steps are really what separate the amateurs from the professionals, and it makes a world of difference in the quality of the vessel in the end.


Here we see up close the (messy!) process of epoxying the fiberglass into place, as additional drainpipes are glued onto the engine hatches, to improve drainage from these compartments.  This step is one of several that were not "in the build book", but were recommended by Andrew as a design improvement over the original build documents.  This was not the only time we were glad we bought kit # 71 and not kit # 2, since over time, Fusion has improved on the initial concept in several areas. 


This important piece is the compression bulkhead that will support the full weight of the mast.  A fitted piece of (very heavy) mahogany on either side of the joint, will reinforce and spread the full weight load of the mast.


This is the only piece of real wood in the whole structure, and when Lari first spotted it, she thought she was getting a beautiful mahogany tabletop!

Once the gorgeous wood is sealed and glassed over, it's hard to tell it's even there, but it will be silently supporting us as we take the boat to sea. 

After only three weeks, the team is able to triumphantly announce, "The first container is empty!"  Only one more to go :)


Our team has worked very hard to get to this point-Thanks for a job being very well done!

Jake, Paul, Rian, and Andrew!
Look for more progress in our next posts, as the exterior gets completed, and we move to the interior stages.  In the meantime, enjoy the summertime!




Sunday, April 29, 2012

Let the Adventure Begin!

The past few weeks have been very exciting for us, as events are unfolding now in rapid order.  Our two containers arrived right on time after being trucked from the Port of Miami to Sarasota, and are safely stored at the Yacht Center Sarasota.  Once we made sure all of the parts were present and accounted for, preparations began for beginning of the assembly as well as for the arrival of Andrew Pounder of PrimeFusion.  Andrew is a Fusion design specialist who has not only built his own Fusion SailCat, but has also supervised and watched as the design has grown and improved since its inception.  He is also the person who will certify Mondo Marine as an official Fusion Agent here in the US, making it possible for the future of this multihull design to gain acceptance in the American market.  Andrew has been emailing Rian with directions and specifications for months, and now we finally get to see how it will all come together!



But in between receiving the containers and Andrew's arrival, we attended the Suncoast Boat Show in Sarasota, with Mondo Marine.  Although the weather was just short of a gale, the booth attracted lots of attention, and some publicity as well.  Because this was a local boat show, it will drum up some immediate business for Mondo Marine in the area of boat repair, but also start to spread the word about Fusions and their unique appeal.  The typical purchaser of a Fusion Cat usually takes 2-3 years of shopping, looking, and consideration before settling on a Fusion build, so it is important to start luring potential customers early on.  Boat shows are probably one of the very best ways to bring boat seekers together with what's new on the market, since it is one-stop shopping where one can compare many different models.  Of course, we don't yet have an actual boat for folks to touch and feel, but it's never too early to start the ball rolling.



Just after the show closed, we held our unveiling party, to show interested people how the containers were packed, and share the story behind our choices.  We had a light turnout, but several of our friends and family were able to come by, as well as some interested folks from the area.  We do plan to hold additional gatherings at various stages of the build, to give folks a chance to see the progress and the process. 


Once the weekend of the show and the unveiling had passed, work quickly began on two important pieces of equipment: the jig, and the gantry crane.  The jig, the wooden structure shown below, is basically a level, contoured cradle/mold for the pieces of the boat as they are fused together, which holds everything together until it becomes a stable structure that can stand on its own.



The gantry crane surrounding the jig is a large aluminum structure which can roll to and from the jig, and helps to pick up and then gently lower individual pieces of the boat into place.  The pieces themselves are (relatively) lightweight, and advertised to be able to be lifted and placed manually, but the mechanised gantry crane does this precisely with a minimum about of effort and a maximum amount of control.  This crane is also made to be disassembled and stored, so it will be able to be used later for future projects. 

In the meantime however, when it isn't busy rolling things into place, covering it with a tarp makes a perfect protection from the Florida sun and rain, under which to work.  It had been our intention to purchase a temporary building for this phase of the project, but the local zoning laws made even a temporary structure impossible.  So, the gantry crane will double as our shelter until the pieces come together to be the shell of the boat.  That stage will probably take somewhere between 6 and 10 weeks to reach.



As Rian and his crew were busily preparing the jig, the gantry crane, and some initial pieces, Andrew Pounder of PrimeFusion, and his wife Cheryn travelled from Australia to Sarasota, arriving on Friday, April 29th.  After a tiring 30+ hour travel by air to Miami, it was an additional 4-hour car trip across the state to the West Coast.  But along the way we introduced them to such American staples as 7-Eleven and Denny's, as we escorted them across Alligator Alley.  After an inspection of the preparation, we took the whole crew out for a celebratory dinner at Ocean's Harvest Restaurant, which we highly recommend as a terrific way to sample local seafood at its very freshest and creative!




The next day, work began in earnest, as the jig was first reinforced, and then carefully levelled, before the first pieces of the boat, the hulls, were lowered in.  This step is critical to the final outcome of the boat, ensuring that it will be level and balanced, and that the rest of the pieces will fit into place properly.  A small discrepancy at this point could lead to wide gaps (voids) in later pieces fitting together, so the patience and attention to detail of Rian and his crew now will pay off in spades when later stages are built on top of this perfect foundation. 



Meanwhile Dennis (and Abby the resident boatyard cat!) were busy installing a remote camera feed so we can log in and watch the progress over the Internet:



In the coming weeks, we will be posting with more of the details and decisions as our two containers come together to become a BOAT.  It is going to be an amazing adventure, undoubtedly with many twists and turns, but it is about the journey at least as much as the destination.  Let the adventure begin!






Friday, March 23, 2012

Fusion Travels the World

As I write, our Fusion kit is underway on the CSCL BRISBANE cargo ship, travelling slowly towards the US.  It turned out, after all options were compared, that it was least expensive to ship the containers to the port of Miami, and have it trucked to the yard in Sarasota.  

According to the Bill of Lading, the containers left Laem Chabang, Thailand on the "Uni-Aspire", on March 4th, and then met up with the ocean transport vessel, CSCL Brisbane, in Hong Kong, on March 8th.


Our cargo containers were two of probably hundreds (maybe thousands?) then transferred to the CSCL Brisbane, which then left Hong Kong on March 10th. 



How do we know all of this??  AIS!!

Cargo ships that are over 300 gross tons, and all passenger ships are required to have AIS (Automatic Identification System) transmit/receive technology.  This is a technology for unique ship identification, and tracks the ship's course, speed, and position in real-time, communicating this information to other ships with AIS receivers, and to AIS base stations. According to Wikipedia, AIS integrates a standardized VHF transceiver with a positioning system such as a GPS receiver, with other electronic navigation sensors, such as a gyrocompass or rate of turn indicator. Ships outside AIS radio range can be tracked with the Long Range Identification and Tracking (LRIT) system with less frequent transmission.

AIS is also a tool for cruisers (as we hope to be in the near future!) so we can see and be seen on the receivers of large ships during ocean passages.  We've heard of and seen videos of cruising boats being summarily run over by large shipping vessels, at night, during bad weather, or even in broad daylight.  Small cruising boats are very hard for a large ship to see, even if there is someone on the ship standing watch and looking out.  Frequently, there is no actual person on watch looking at the water, and the ships are guided pretty much by instrumentation and computers. 

As a personal anecdote, last year in October, as we were crossing the Gulf Stream from Miami to the Bahamas, for a week-long vacation on a chartered sailboat, we were very nearly trapped in the middle of a live-fire exercise drill by the US Navy, who did not realize we were in the immediate area .  Fortunately, we were listening on VHF channel 16, and heard their warning for the start of the drill.  We radioed back our position, and that, even under motor, we would be unable to clear the area in time, and they acknowledged and moved off to another place for their practice session.  I'm sure the watch officer got a dressing-down for that oversight, but from just that example in broad daylight, one can definitely see the value of AIS!

Here below is the Brisbane's published schedule, which is updated as it changes, and we see that it is due in to Miami on April 11th.  Of course, we plan to be over there, in our current boat, to see if we can get some live photos of its arrival, so we will keep everyone posted.



If you would like to track the Brisbane's progress yourself, here is the link to it on MarineTraffic.com:


They have some very cool real time maps of all the vessels they keep track of, along with last known positions, etc.  Since the underlying communication system, VHF have limitations on their range, the base stations don't always know where the ship is at this particular moment, if it is out of range.  I do wonder why they don't go to a satellite-based system, which could solve that issue, but I'm sure there are better minds than mine working on that (at least I hope so!)

We hope to see all of you in Sarasota for our unveiling on the 23rd of April.  I know it is a Monday, but what a great excuse to miss work!  If the date changes, we will send out a post and email, but that is the plan right now.  Hope to see you there!




Friday, February 3, 2012

SAVE THE DATE!

SAVE THE DATE!!
April 23rd, 2012
 Yacht Center Sarasota
The Unveiling of XYZZY

Yes, she's finally arriving!  In the months since the last post, we've been busily getting ready for the appearance of our kit, which will ship at the beginning of March, and after a long journey from the Thai manufacturing company, CMBI, arrive in Sarasota, Florida in April.  It will arrive in two 40' shipping containers, and then Rian and Mondo Marine can begin the build process. 

During the wait, we've had time to figure out how to insure the kit throughout the shipping process, once it leaves the hands of CMBI, during its 4-6 week transit.  We finalized the builder's risk insurance that will insure the parts and partially assembled vessel during the build process here in Florida.  And we've had to locate an international freight forwarder to help coordinate the two ends of the shipping process: packing, fumigating (yikes!), and loading in Thailand through to landing in Tampa, clearing customs, and being delivered to the yard in Sarasota.  Truly, I have visions of customs officials wearing pirate costumes holding the containers offshore for ransom because I've forgotten some small but critical detail!

So to keep from worrying too much while waiting, we're using the time to do two very important things:  choose and implement a project management system, as well as educate ourselves on various marine topics. 

From the beginning of the project, even as we interviewed builders, we knew that having some sort of way to manage the project and keep track of all the various threads would be integral to the success overall.  Most available project management software has grown out of the computer software development industry, and many programs that we looked at have things like built in version control, and bug tracking (and they aren't talking about the ones that are going to be fumigated!).  We discounted those that looked like they were designed to be used at Apple. One big priority was that all parties (us, Mondo Marine, the boat yard, the subcontractors) had to be able to have access at any time, from anywhere, to the project.  We had heard from several previous kit builders that it was very important to be ON SITE with the boat and builder, to keep things moving along.  We briefly toyed with the idea of relocating to the Sarasota area, but we really, REALLY like Coconut Grove, and didn't really want to move to the west coast (of Florida).  So, to help avoid weekly 8-hour round trip drives, we intended to choose a project management system that would be online in the "cloud", rather than installed on any single computer. 

Besides needing a web-based system, it was also important to have a system that would track To-Do lists, have a group project calendar with milestones and events, be able to organize emails from all parties into categories, and notify the participants when updates were posted.  Another important feature was to be able to upload, categorize, and store scanned documents, pictures, spreadsheets, and web links, so we can all collaborate on products we find, designs we like, contracts, schematics, drawings-the list is endless, really.  We needed a system that would also track all the purchases that will go into the boat: where it came from, when it was purchased, for how much, what the warranty is, and when the warranty period started and ended.  (The tracking of the purchased components will help us to determine the final value of the vessel, but also to develop a database of suppliers for spare parts.)  And lastly, we looked for a system that Mondo Marine could use to track their employees' and subcontractors' time on various aspects of the build. 

More than just fulfilling an obsessive need to document the project, managing the project through software is also a matter of putting together a schematic for future builds, and working to perfect the process.  From the beginning we have seen our venture as the first of many Fusions to come, and using the project management software will help us and Mondo Marine build a template for future clients. 

With all of these criteria in mind, we chose a product called BaseCamp.  It came with a free trial, and an easy-to-handle monthly fee after the trial expired.  It offers all the features we looked for, and lets us all "work" on the project whenever we have a few minutes.  We can email and post from within BaseCamp, so everyone sees the communications, and we can have a "campfire" and chat realtime, or work online together on a collaborative document, such as the spreadsheet of electrical specifications that Dennis and Rian are building.  Each can see the changes that the other is making, and everyone always sees the latest version of the document.  In the planning and preparation phase, this has already been extremely helpful, and we haven't even started the actual construction!

Another way we've been using the time prior to the arrival of our kit is to attend classes.  Yes!  We've gone back to school!  We chose a very special institution called Seven Seas University (http://www.sevenseasu.com/).  This is the educational branch of an organization called Seven Seas Cruising Association (SSCA) (http://www.ssca.org/) which provides various services and information to cruisers worldwide.  SSU students (the university) do all of their classes through online webinars that are offered in 1-2 hour sessions in the evenings.  Through SSU we have learned about weather: the flow of cold and warm fronts, how to tell the progression of storms, how to interpret barometric pressures, read various weather maps, and what websites would give us the best information about weather while cruising.  We've learned about how to sail in various kinds of heavy weather, and techniques for waiting out bad weather, should we be on a long passage.  We attended a session on wind and solar power, and another on marine air conditioning, and refrigeration.  Here is a short list of topics they offer:


 Safety at Sea      Electronics    Women's Issues    Diesel Engines   Electronics

Watermakers     Communications    Provisioning     Anchoring    Pets Aboard

Writing for the Boating Market    Alternative Energy    Sail Trim and Inventory

As you can see, the topics are very extensive, and pertinent to both building a boat and the cruising life.  They also have wonderful presentations about many of the best cruising destinations, and the easiest routes to get there, which are extremely inspiring, just in case we've lost sight of our end goal! 



We were first introduced to SSCA and SSU at the Miami Boat Show last year, and later attended a "GAM" (meeting) during the summer, where we listened to various speakers, and met fellow cruisers.  With few exceptions, we were the youngest people there, but it was great to meet and learn from others who have been cruising, full-time or part-time.  Every person there had a commitment to cruising; some had already made their dream happen, while others were still planning.  One couple touched us dramatically-Roger and Betty. Roger and Betty were easily in their mid-to-late seventies.  Roger's hands trembled uncontrollably at the table, while Betty was stick-thin, wrapped in many sweaters, despite it being mid-summer in South Florida, and looked as if a slight breeze would bowl her over.  Roger proudly pulled out a business card, and showed us a photo of his trawler (which is a power boat, not a sail boat).  He told us they would be going on their maiden voyage this year-to Tahiti!  Wonderful, we told him!  What a great plan!  Where was the boat moored now?  Still on blocks in his backyard, he told us; she still needs some work, but, by golly, we are going to do it this year!

Listening to Roger and Betty's plans made us both very sad and very inspired.  But most of all, it made us determined not to be looking back at our lives in twenty-five years, wishing we'd done this sooner.  of course, none of us never know what life has in store for us, and the picture can change in an instant-no one has to tell us that!.  But never let it be said that we didn't try and live the journey. 

We hope to see many of you at our XYZZY Arrival Event on April 23rd, at the Yacht Center Sarasota, to share the launch of our dream-you're all invited!  Let us know if you can come down, and we'll help you make arrangements.  We will be having local press, as well as folks from vendors, and hopefully some of the Fusion Team from Australia.  We know we never could have begun this adventure without the support of all of you and look forward to sharing the beginning of that realization with you all!

Days, precious days
Roll in and out like waves
I got boards to bend, I got planks to nail
I got charts to make, I got seas to sail

Sails are just like wings
The wind can make 'em sing
Songs of life, songs of hope
Songs to keep your dreams afloat
I'm gonna build me a boat
With these two hands
It'll be a fair curve
From a noble plan
Let the chips fall where they will
Cause I've got boats to build!
                                                        -Jimmy Buffett, License to Chill Album