Haulout 103: The Clean Bottom Club

SV Hanalei has joined the Clean Bottom Club. All it took was five days on the hard.

Easy-peasy.

Her hull, the outside of the boat below the deck, has been pressure-washed; her keel scraped of barnacles, sanded and ground. Her topsides gleam with polish; her bottom shines with a fresh coat of red paint. The anti-fouling paint, toxic to marine life but not humans, should beat back barnacles a few more years.

Christine, what’s with this vendetta against barnacles?

Remember the trip from Ecuador, propeller barely turning because of barnacles?

I can’t wait to see our speed increase.

Imagine You’re a Barnacle

No, I’m not kidding. Did you have something more important to imagine?

Imagine you’re a barnacle larva. You’re floating around in salt water, house hunting. Your dream location is a busy, sturdy, slimy environment. There should be lots of action because you don’t get out much. Food has to come to you.

This sounds so pandemic-like.

You find the deliciously algae-slicked underbelly of a sailboat. It’s not fancy but it’s home, a place to grow hard with space for lots of little ones. Whatever you choose will have to be your final answer. You secrete a fast-curing cement that’s one of nature’s most powerful glues, so strong it makes 5200 look like silly putty. But it’s a one-time secretion only. If you’re knocked off (or scraped, sanded, or ground) that’s it.

You settle in. On your way to adulthood you’ll grow six rock-hard plates, an armadillo among your fellow crustaceans. You grow a softer door of four layers, like an airlock that lets you filter food. When the tide goes out or you’re in danger, you can seal the airlock.

This seems like a good pandemic adaptation, too. No mask? Shut the door! Never mind that you’d love company, anyone to talk to.

Sure, it’s lonely, but you’re safe.

Except from boat owners.

Preach tolerance all you want, these crustaceans evolved to wreak havoc on boats. Heavy barnacle growth adds sixty percent to drag and weight; the U.S. Navy estimates it leads to a forty percent increase in fuel consumption.

Bad for the environment. Bad for the budget. Bad for the boat.

That’s three strikes.

I feel like I have three strikes against me with all these haulout posts. I’m tired of the subject and I’m the one writing them.

You can stop reading now. There’s a video. If you have custody of children or grandchildren, show it to them. Big machines and destruction are always a winning combo.

How Did We Get Here?

Recap of haulout steps:

1.     Drive boat into a well

2.     Tie docklines on each side, fore and aft, to center and control the boat

3.     Position lifting straps beneath

4.     Rise up!

5.     Move to yard

6.     Lower and brace

Almost Ready!

To splash, you just reverse the steps and drop her back in, right?

Not quite so fast, says the Chief Engineer.

He lays out more steps:

1.     Reconnect TraveLift straps into a snug sling

2.     Position sling

3.     Lift

NOW we’re ready.

Poetry In Motion

This is nobody’s first rodeo. As the boat rises, the deconstruction crew steps in to move away stands and supports. Their elegant choreography alone makes it worth watching the video.

The lead takes aim and swings. In one breathtaking moment he taps the remaining pole precisely near its base, toppling it. His teammate liberates it mid-air and eases it down.

SV Hanalei hovers uncertainly. She’s neither here, on land, nor there, in water.

The splash ballet begins.

Before you know it, we’ll be back at sea and up to speed.

I can’t wait.

Fair winds,

Christine

Do Tell

Did you learn something memorable from a haulout?