Haulout 101: Bye-bye, Barnacles!

Let’s talk barnacles.

On a boat, they can make steering difficult and clog seawater intakes, but they’re more than an annoyance. Remember our getaway from Ecuador at four knots, slowed by a propeller that couldn’t spin freely? Barnacles’ hard, sharp little bodies not only impede the prop, they add friction to slow us down. Speed means safety. You never know when you’ll need to make haste.

I knew the barnacle problem was bad. Then, a few weeks ago, an extra-low tide revealed the depth of the invasion.

“Barnacles are not our friends.”

Emboldened by a year of unchecked growth in tropical conditions, their colony must number in the tens of thousands. That’s practically enough to declare independence. I’m ready to embrace post-colonialism.

Clearly we need to part ways with our unwelcome guests, but how?

Stephan tried scraping them off, but they’re on everything. Diving near the propeller is like being dragged across a reef.

It’s time for a haulout.

What’s a Haulout?

(Note: This is an introductory course. Seasoned boat owners may stand on the dock and critique.)

Haulout refers to both the process of lifting a boat out of the water–less than an hour–and the ongoing work while it remains on land (prone to stretching infinitely, but we’ll call it a couple of days). We usually haul the boat every two years to paint the bottom and do maintenance, so we’re due.

Hauling out takes money, time, and space. It requires patience and a level of mechanical competence beyond my comfort zone. I wouldn’t even try to demystify it except it’s important, a necessary evil that allows us to sail.

I’m bringing in the Chief Engineer. Stephan will now wax poetic about the equipment, a 50-ton TraveLift.

Stephan, bottom right, demonstrates the hugeness of the TraveLift.

“You gotta love this machine. It’s huge. It’s completely hydraulic. It’s purpose-built to do only two things, but do them really well: lift boats in and out of the water and move them short distances. Kinda makes you want one.”

Not me. I don’t have machine envy.

But I’m glad he’s having fun.

Step By Step

1. We start by driving the boat into a special up-sloped slip called a well at high tide. The TraveLift is already in position spanning the well. It’s open in the center to accommodate our mast.

2. Industrial-strength lifting straps are lying underneath us. The diver standing in the water is waiting for me to cut the engine before he checks their position..

3. Dock lines fore and aft keep the boat centered. Dock hands at all four corners will pick up slack, almost like the Panama Canal.

4. The diver signals the driver with any corrections until the straps cradle the boat.

5. The driver raises the straps and the boat, using the magic of hydraulics,

6. Its wheels move forward. . .

7. . . . and she’s out!

8. Now for a short ride to our designated parking spot in the boatyard.

9. Where she’s lowered and braced to remain upright while we’re on the hard.

LOOK AT THOSE BARNACLES!

On the Hard

10. Now we’re on the hard, which means we live three meters off the ground in a boatyard, without access to running water or toilets. We’ve upgraded our accommodations with a staircase in place of the usual ladder. Very posh, non?

Our new view, no extra charge. This is our neighbor, but we’re the only people living on a hauled-out boat. To the right, the parking area outside the Duty Free (closed), some restaurants (closed), and the building where I checked into Panama (open). In the evenings, lots of people ride rented quad bikes and skate. The change of scenery is nice. . . .

. . . . as long as I don’t look down.

What about life on the hard?

That’s another topic entirely. Tune in later to see how it feels to be high and dry.

Fair winds,

Christine

Do Tell

What’s fun about a haulout? Anyone?