Getting our ship together

While in Southern California in mid December we took a break from grandkids and Disneyland to pay a visit to Minney's Yacht Surplus. What a great store! Wish it was closer.

It was fun to met Ernie Minney, who is an institution all by himself. When I told him I had a Columbia 43 I was restoring he said, "That's a great boat." Then he gave me an old Columbia rudder plate from a box he had stashed away. My guess is it was used on one of the smaller boats like the C 26. Anyway, it's pretty cool and will find its way onto the boat, but perhaps in a cut-down version.

A gift from Mr. Minney.

We bought some stuff, of course, but no more than we could take back on the plane. I may have to drive down in my truck when we get a little further on our restoration. One thing we couldn't pass up was Minney's t-shirt. Someday....

Matching t-shirts from Minney's say, "Schooner or later we'll get our ship together."

Progress on other projects

Finishing the frame and panel, the fairing, sanding and painting inside was a huge milestone for us, but we've completed other projects along the way.

One end of our $320-a-pair 0000 battery cables.

Wiring
One of the biggest projects on the boat is replacing all the wiring. Columbias of this era were known for the quality and strength of their hulls. The wiring and plumbing... not so much. Jason, the previous owner, stripped out all of the old plumbing and wiring. Luckily, we have a son-in-law who is not only an electrician, but his day-time job is wiring multi-million-dollar yachts for a boat builder in Washington. He recently came down for the third time to work on the boat. He pulled new tinned, marine-grade wires throughout the boat. He followed the American Boat & Yacht Council Standards on wring type, size and installation, which he gleefully quotes to me as we work together.

All of the 110-volt wiring is new and the outlets installed. He ran the battery cables ($320 for a black and a red) and pulled wires for the 12-volt lights. Still a lot to do, but real progress. Having all the new outlets within easy reach is sure handy as well.

On Deck
While the weather was nice I borrowed a friend's pressure washer and washed the deck and topsides of the boat. It made a big difference in her appearance and I like to think it helped forestall some cosmetic problems as well.

My wife and I then worked hard restoring and refinishing the teak. I replaced several missing teak plugs and sanded, and sanded, and sanded some more. We used Cetol as the finish and it looks pretty good. We got on the minimum number of recommended coats a day or two before the rains descended.

Hatches
I rebuilt the main hatch replacing the soggy plywood panel with a poly-acrylic one to let more light in. It makes a difference and is lighter in weight too. I also refinished the storm hood the hatch slides into.

Below decks I finished installing hatch covers for storage lockers and put finger holes in the ones Jason made.

Tanks

Jason's remodel features excellent engine access.
One fuel tank in the background

Jason removed the original fuel and water tanks. He made two 50-gallon water tanks in place, which is the best and most space-efficient option. He also bought two 55-gallon fuel tanks, but hadn't gotten around to installing them. I'm part of the way through that process. It is tricky work in very tight quarters but in the end it will be a good installation.

Lights
My wife and I spent several evenings watching Netflix and polishing seven very-corroded brass cabin lights. It looked like they hadn't been polished for 41 years. After trying every commercial preparation we could get our hands on, we found that white vinegar, salt and lots of elbow grease worked the best. We plan on retrofitting them with LED lights and new switches.

Stove
The stove was in a sorry state. It looked so bad we didn't know whether to keep it or look for a replacement. We decided to clean it before making the final decision. It cleaned up pretty good. I think we'll keep it -- so long as it cooks as good as it looks.

Microwave

Our $49 microwave.

OK, so "installing" the microwave entailed nothing more than screwing it under the cabinet in the galley using plastic pipe-hanging straps. Oh, ya, I also had to plug it in and set the clock. The thing is, it looks good, is out of the way, and we now can eat hot meals on the boat and stay out of fast-food joints on the days we work on the boat.

There are a lot of little jobs that I can't even remember, like installing a door or cleaning and painting the chain locker, but what do you expect from a couple of kids with no adult supervision.

Very white indeed

Virginia finishes painting the stateroom.

A few weeks ago my wife and I reached a major milestone: the inside of the boat is painted. (Well, mostly: we still need to do the head and a few other odds and ends.) Seems like it shouldn't be such a big deal, I mean, it's only a 43-foot boat. As anyone knows who does any kind of painting, it's all in the preparation. In Oceanus's case, lots of preparation.

Before we could paint we had to finish the faux frame and panel (I guess that's what you would call it). All of the bulkheads needed the treatment and it looks terrific, even if I say so myself. Jason, the previous owner, did a great job on some of the bulkheads. We tried our best to match his high standards.

Before...

...after. This is the hanging locker in the master stateroom.

After applying the frame and panel, I had to sand and fill and sand and fill ad nauseum. I thought I would never get done. I used marine epoxy with a sanding filler. It was the best stuff for the job, but the mixing and application was tedious at best, down right frustrating on some days. The overhead was the toughest to get right. There were places where bulkheads were removed and fairing that was a chore. There were also a lot of holes that needed patching. Fairing in the new bulkheads was the toughest part by far.

Then I had to sand. Sand until my arms felt like they would fall off. Sand until it was all I could see when I closed my eyes at night. The good news is I have a tool-triggered vacuum attached to my random-orbit sander so I didn't have to eat my own dust. I would never do a job like this without that vacuum. Never!

As I would finish preping one section, my wife would paint it. First with an undercoat and then with two, three or sometimes as many as four coats of enamel. The high-gloss enamel showed every defect, which meant more filling and sanding, but, oh, does it look good! The shine tricks your eyes into thinking the space is larger than it is. And the bright white paint makes the inside cheery, even on overcast days. (We get a lot of those in the Northwet.) I've never heard someone complain that the inside of a boat was too bright. Have you?

Now the painting is done, we are on to more fun things, like woodworking. Stay tuned.

Columbia 43 stands-in for Hinckley 48 in Revenge TV show

A Tripp-designed Hinckley 48 was used as the sailboat Amanda on ABC's Revenge TV show.

My wife and I are hooked on the ABC TV show "Revenge." (Netflix has the full first season and Hulu has the second season.) I know, it's a prime-time soap, but the boat in it is really beautiful. In the first season the sailboat, "Amanda," was a Hinckley 48 designed by Bill Tripp. A beautiful boat, no question about it. It's a big sister to my Columbia 43.

I noticed that the boat changed slightly in the second season. OK, it changed a lot. To give credit to the ABC producers, at least they tried to make them look similar. So they chose another Tripp design, a Columbia 43. Here's a post from the Cruising World's Forum:

Re: ABC Revenge tv show...sailboat "Amanda"
There have been two very beautiful boats used in this series. The first was in fact a Hinckley.
The other boat used is a 43' Columbia moored at the 1700 finger in Marina Del Rey. It is called the Blue Norther and can be seen most Saturdays on the water of Santa Monica Bay. I sail as part of her crew almost every Saturday. The cast and crew of this series are great. The art department is amazing. They have matched the color of both the hull and the gold leaf lettering exactly. Occasionally we will sail with the Amanda decal on the starboard bow and Blue Norther lettering on the port bow.
(end quote)

Using a Hinckley, any Hinckley, as a boat that Jack Porter, a poor barkeep, could afford was really a stretch. The explanation was he "fixed it up." The Hinckley 48 was a gigantic leap. They are rare and expensive; there were only eight of them made. When you find them for sale they are usually somewhere north of $300k. The Columbia 43, on the other hand, is neither expensive nor rare. But, as the owners of Blue Norther proved, they can be a very beautiful boat; even something that billionaire Nolan Ryan would want to buy.

The hailing port on Oceanus is Marina Del Rey. I wonder if the two boats raced together? Did the owners know each other? Do the current owners wonder what happened to Blue Norther's sistership?

Some assembly required; batteries not included

Virginia poses on the deck of Oceanus before another marathon painting session.

It was a few weeks between the time I told Keith I wanted Oceanus before he was able to contact the owner. Jason had a rare form of cancer, literally a one-in-a-million case, and went to Spokane, Wash., to receive treatment. The primary treatment was a 22-hour operation where the cancerous parts of gut were removed and the adjacent areas treated with chemo. Understandably, Keith didn't want to bother him until he felt better. I was content to wait.

While I waited, I took my vacuum to the boat and cleaned her from stem to stern. It needed to be done and was a good way to get to know the boat. I thought Jason would appreciate it whether I bought the boat or not. I also strapped on my scuba tank and dove on the boat with a scrub brush in hand. I came to know Oceanus' shapely bottom intimately as I knocked off barnacles, mussels and scrubbed away a thick coat of algae. Below the waterline the hull was smooth and looked good to me, especially considering it hadn't been hauled out in at least five years.

After an exchange of phone calls, the day finally came when my wife and I could meet Jason and buy Oceanus. I came with a check in my pocket and trepidation: After such a life-altering event with a prognosis that was uncertain at best, would Jason be sullen or clinically depressed? Would selling the boat he worked so hard on be a relief or a tragedy for him?

Oceanus with the Yaquina Bay Bridge in the background.

But the old adage was true for both of us; it was a happy day for the buyer and the seller. Jason seemed pleased to have one less thing to worry about. He also had a great attitude about his illness and future -- realistic, but confident. He answered all my questions about the boat and, best of all, assured me he would answer any questions in the future. A lifetime consultancy -- I couldn't have asked for better.

We then went to his home where four pickup loads of parts, pieces and wood awaited us. Some of the parts were things Jason removed from Oceanus, some were new and some he picked up on Craig's list. It was a treasure trove of fasteners and marine hardware. He also had copies of the original owner's manuals and boat documentation.

A few weeks later as my wife and I looked at the boxes and boxes of stuff, I said, "Columbia 43 -- some assembly required, batteries not included." We both laughed. This will be a lot of work.

Max gives the "thumbs up"

I liked Oceanus from the start, but I had reservations. I always pictured myself owning a more traditional, full-keeled sailboat like two of my favorite boats, the Hinkley Bermuda 40 or the Mercer 44. Although a departure from those two Tripp designs, Oceanus has his classic sweet stern and a strong, no-nonsense bow.

I was a little concerned, however, about the suitability of an old ocean racer for cruising. Would she be seakindly? Should I worry about her spade rudder with no skege to protect it? I put those questions to my English friend Max Taylor in an email.

"What a fantastic boat; buy it now!" Max replyed. "If I was going cruising again I wouldn't hesitate - beautiful and very fit for purpose.

"When Erica and I sailed off the Caribbean it was in a van de Stadt Legend 34 Blue Clipper, built in 1970. Compared with modern boats, she has a narrow waterline, relatively shallow fin and skeg keel arrangement, low-volume sloop. At the time we had no experience and no idea how good a boat she was. In fact, even when I bought her I didn't really know anything about Mr. Van de Stadt and his boats, it was well before I had any idea of taking her offshore but I could see that she had a good shape, was solidly built and I managed to get her for half the brokers asking price!

"It wasn't until after we had sailed her 10,000 miles to the Caribbean and back and succumbed to bigger boat syndrome that we really began to realise how good she was and the qualities that made her so. I make the comparison with our Endurance 35, a heavy displacement (displacement-to-waterline ratio) long-keel cutter which we cruised for several years along the often-stormy English coast.

"I think these comments apply to the Columbia 43 equally. The narrow and relatively shallow hull form is easily driven. So, relative to whatever wind there is, you need less sail area, in light airs you can keep going more easily and when it's rough you can keep going with less, which imparts far less stress on boat, rigging and crew. We hove to in a gale 1000 miles from land for 48 hours under just triple reefed main, the boat was comfortable, quiet and apart from the anxiety of being in those conditions, it was very pleasant, when things calmed down we were able to make good progress to windward under the same reefed main -  by contrast on the Endurance we'd need loads of sail up to get the heavy boat moving.

"What can I say about that flush deck, it's perfect for cruising; uncluttered and safe for working on deck, anchoring, storing the dinghy. The high turned up stern and transom will look fantastic as you row away in the dinghy - then you'll know you bought the right boat. BUT it's also very practical, as the boat pitches at anchor that lovely overhang will submerge and damp the pitching motion and will do it without the constant slap slap slap that a modern boat with a sugar scoop stern has. It was so bad in one anchorage that we had to move away at 3 a.m. from a modern aluminium 44 footer who's fat stern was driving us mad all night. And we were some 25 yards away!

Oceanus' sweet stern.

"I guess the downside is the prop is exposed and the spade rudder, if the latter is properly constricted and I have no reason to think it's not on a boat of that age, it should be fine. As a precaution I might be inclined to construct a massively reinforced bulkhead to support the shaft and prevent flooding in the event that you seriously hit something. Plus, get a self steering gear that has an auxiliary rudder like a Hydrovane of Pacific. If all else fails you have a spare! depending on how things are, you could build up a shallow skeg to protect the prop shaft and P bracket plus fit a really good rope cutter.

"One final thought looking at original Columbia plans, is access to the stern gland, it looks like it is under the engine - I'd want to be able to get at it easily and based on personal experience of a PPS type drip- less gland that failed catastrophically I'd want a beefy traditional stern glad with remote greaser.

"The other real thing the Columbia has going for her is speed, she looks fast and that's a relative thing, but fast in her day when boats were seaworthy first and foremost. Mr. Van de Stadt showed that separating rudder from the keel and putting the rudder as far back as possible can give you a boat that will track well and won't have horrid weather helm and so will be easy on the crew, it worked on Blue Clipper. I haven't done any research but the Columbia looks to have similar qualities. The endurance (long keel) tracked like a train going to windward, but on a broad reach the weather helm would pull your arms out of their sockets!"

Oceanus

On one of my frequent dock walks at Newport's South Beach Marina I came across this sign on the bow pulpit of a Columbia 43.

Ten thousand dollars? Could that be right? The inside must be a nightmare. Outside, the boat looked to be in reasonable shape, although the deck and cockpit were littered with anchors, four old batteries, two crab traps and two blue 55-gallon drums.

I called the number on the sign and Keith, an old salt I knew from previous walks, answered the phone. He was acting as the agent for the owner and agreed to show me the boat.

Inside the boat was not what I expected. The owner completely cut out the old interior with a sawsall and fiberglassed in new plywood bulkheads and furniture. To my mind, the layout was brilliant--perfect for a cruising couple. With a flush deck and 12 feet 4 inches of beam, the hull volume in a Columbia 43 is huge. The owner put every inch to use in creating a comfortable and efficient interior. Of all the boats my wife and I looked at over the last two years, this interior was by far the most livable. A big bonus for me is that most of the boat has enough headroom for my 6-foot-4-inch frame.

Keith knew the owner and vouched for his craftsmanship, especially the fiberglass work. "I was going to have him do some work for me before he got sick," Keith said. He told me that the owner was selling the boat because he got cancer.

I told Keith I was interested, but that I needed to show the boat to my wife.

A couple of days later I was back with my friend Doryman to get his opinion. Although not to his taste exactly, he thought it was a well-made boat, both the original hull and the work done so far by the owner. Doryman gave the boat a thumbs up. Of course, Doryman takes to boat projects like a duck to water; the bigger the project the better he likes it.

I took a video of the interior so I could show Virginia, who was living four hours away at the time. The next weekend I showed her the video and she liked it. I also researched the Columbia 43 and its designer, Bill Tripp, and wrote a couple of short articles for a blog I write for to help me crystallize my thinking and allay the questions about the boat.

On a Sunday afternoon Virginia and I spent two hours on Oceanus looking, sitting, lying in the bunks and dreaming. A couple of days later I called Keith and told him I wanted the boat. He said he would take the sign down that day.