I have no problem being called a traditionalist sailor. I wouldn’t have made a brigantine schooner if I wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t embraced some technology that has swept like a hurricane through the boating world, particularly in the area of electronics.

Undoubtedly, many of these modern inventions have made boating much safer and more enjoyable, but they have also created a dependency on the gadgets themselves. Far too many boaters are failing to learn and use the methods that have served, and many times saved, seagoers for centuries.

GPS, without a doubt, is the greatest innovation in the past 40 years. It might rival the invention of the wheel. Even so, I still mark our paper charts every hour because, if power is lost, the chartplotter will conk out.

I still use a lot of other traditional sailing tools, too.

The Sextant

Only two satellites had been launched when we bought our first sailboat and set sail south, leaving England by the lee for our great Mediterranean adventure. There was a 12-hour delay in obtaining a position, which was not much use on a boat traveling at only 6 knots.

That’s why we learned celestial navigation with a sextant. I would take the sights, while my wife worked out the math and marked the chart. After four days of crossing the Bay of Biscay, we made landfall on the nail at Cape Finisterre on the tip of Spain. We felt a great deal of satisfaction in this achievement, and that same sextant still sits in its teak case on my latest boat, nearly 50 years later. Britannia’s sextant. There are other uses for a sextant as well, such as calculating the distance of an object like a lighthouse, but all have been superseded by the miraculously accurate GPS, with which we once navigated into the port of Oporto in Portugal in a dense fog and never hit anything either.

Still, if GPS failed the great majority of the boating public, I suppose they would pull out their mobile phones. They probably don’t even know what a sextant is.

Depth Gauges

My boat’s hull-mounted electrical depth gauge is nonfunctional at the moment, because of growth over the fitting. Britannia is also moored in the Intracoastal Waterway, which is shallow nearly everywhere and extremely shallow in some places. Some form of depth gauge is most advisable.

There are two substitutes for a depth gauge: a handheld, battery-powered device that’s a bit like an electric shaver and that needs to be held in the water to give a reading. On Britannia, this would need to be strapped to a boat hook to pass down over the 4-foot freeboard.

The other option is the classic lead line, which is accurate when set up and used properly, and can even tell you the nature of the bottom if you are about to anchor. And the beauty is, it’s never subject to power failure.

Bilge Pumps

Electric bilge pumps can automatically empty a bilge. They are ideal for a boat that is not regularly sailed, but the operative word again is electric. The boat’s batteries can run down, the pump can clog up, the float switch can fail to activate the pump, and so on.

As a backup, Britannia has a high-volume diaphragm pump operated from the cockpit. It empties a normal bilge level in a few manual strokes, and we often use it when we first get on the boat. It also has a manually activated 120-volt high-volume sump pump, which works from the dedicated generator battery.

A small bilge can also be emptied using a manual suction pump. And there’s always a bucket.

Steering

Most boats over a certain size have wheel steering, which usually communicates with the rudder by way of hydraulics. They’re easiest for manufacturers to install, and they only need an oil pump on the wheel, leading by hoses to a ram on the rudder stock.

Another method of steering uses cables running from a cog and chain on the wheel spindle through cables and pulleys to the rudder quadrant. Neither of these methods employs electricity, but they are not by any means failure-proof. Hydraulic fluid can leak out of the pump or the ram, and leaks can occur over time from badly installed pipes.

The pulleys needed for cable steering can corrode or jam from a lack of oil, but there is a certain peace of mind in knowing that a properly maintained cable system physically turns the rudder. And there’s always a tiller that acts directly onto the rudder stock, making it wise to have one aboard as a backup.

Autopilots

A hydraulic or electric autopilot needs an electrical supply. Hydraulic autopilots use an electric pump to circulate the fluid to operate the hydraulic ram that moves the rudder. There will also be a rudder angle gauge and a control box, also electrically powered. Britannia’s is an amazingly accurate device, and it has never failed yet.

But that’s because I treat my battery banks like a newborn baby, and I am conscious of power consumption when the autopilot is on but the engine is not.

Many cruising boats that ply the ocean trade winds use a wind vane mounted on the stern. It requires no auxiliary power whatsoever and keeps running forever—so long as there is wind.

Another backup that needs no power, except feeding from time to time, is called a helmsman.

Lighting

Britannia has LEDs, including for the long-range navigation lights. These LEDs use less than one-quarter of the power of a regular bulb and are just as bright, so long as the electrical power remains.

I have lived aboard with auxiliary oil lamps in the saloon and staterooms, in case of a power failure, but these lamps can be quite dirty if they’re trimmed too high or if they lack a heat shield over the flame, which can scorch the ceiling. They also require the storage of kerosene as fuel.

Charts

Paper charts are difficult to store and read in a cockpit, or on a small chart table. I still want them anyway.

On every ocean passage we make, the chart is spread out over the saloon table and marked every hour (more or less) with coordinates from the plotter. This will give us a fix if there is a glitch in the chartplotter.

It’s also a keepsake. Without such a record, a passage becomes just a means to an end with nothing to remember it by. Our most recent passage, 530 miles from Cape Canaveral, Florida, to North Carolina, is now a framed picture on our wall at home.

Fresh Water

Freshwater hose connections can be seen attached to many boats in marinas, especially if people are living aboard. Such a simple pedestal hookup has some advantages. The constant pressure saves using the boat’s water pump, and usually gives a greater and more even flow to faucets and showers. It also saves the batteries and is a silent operation.

But if a water pipe breaks or a connection fails, sure, the bilge switch would activate the pump, but the powerful rush of water would probably overpower the pump, with possible catastrophic results. This actually happened to me once. If we hadn’t come back within a few hours, the boat would have sunk.

I devised an idiot-proof (that would be me) backup using a water shutoff solenoid and a latching relay, which is just like a normal relay, except it stays activated even when the power source is removed. The solenoid is fitted in the boat’s inlet line and closes when the bilge switch activates it. Then, the latching relay keeps it closed, even when the bilge switch returns to an open circuit.

It’s a simple and worry-proof solution.

Parting Shot

Out on the water, especially on the open ocean, things can go wrong fast. Electronics and seawater don’t mix, and it is not possible to pull into a rest stop and call for assistance. It’s just plain common sense to have a backup available for the more important items, just like having oars attached to a dinghy in case the outboard fails. 

The post Buckets, Bilges and Backups appeared first on Cruising World.

As far back as I can remember, I have always enjoyed the challenge of finding solutions to practical problems. This was certainly the case when I started work on fitting out the first Aventura. As an absolute greenhorn in anything nautical, I was forced to come up with answers to complex questions in virtually everything I touched.

The boat had a center cockpit and aft cabin, and the wheel was too far from the rudderstock. The easiest and cheapest solution was to have hydraulic steering, but that meant I could not use the self-steering gear whose control lines had to lead to a drum on the wheel or to a tiller. The solution I came up with was to extend the rudderstock by way of a 6-foot-long, 40-mm steel bar to the level of the aft deck, and then fit a tiller to it. The lines of the Aries gear were easily led to it. We could steer with the wheel and the tiller.

Many of the solutions that followed were rather unorthodox, but they worked. I repeated several of them on my future boats, such as having a day tank for the engine. On a number of occasions, the easiest solution was to do without certain nonessential items, such as a diesel genset or freezer.

Going without a diesel genset was the easiest decision because we simply couldn’t afford one. Auxiliary diesel generators for cruising boats were still a novelty in those days, and only the largest boats in the South Pacific had one. Our electrical consumption was modest, and we often used paraffin lamps. We managed to charge our one and only battery by the main engine. Later, on Aventura II, there was no need for a genset because one of the twin engines fulfilled that role efficiently. Aventura III had an additional large-capacity alternator, and a wind and towing generator. By the time Aventura IV came on the scene, we relied almost entirely on renewable sources of energy by having wind, solar and hydro generators. As for Aventura Zero, her name reflects my aim to do away completely with fossil fuels for generation and propulsion.

Not having a freezer was also an easy decision because we never had one at home. We always preferred to eat fresh things. On the subsequent Aventuras, we did have a refrigerator and learned to preserve food for longer passages by vacuum-packing meat, as well as fish caught on the way. We’d store them in the fridge.

Diving Gear

As part of the preparations for our first voyage, I completed a British Sub-Aqua Club diving course and qualified as a diver. I realized that diving gear would be an essential item to have on board, and I had a complete set on each of my boats, with a compressor on Aventura II. A dry suit on Aventuras III and IV proved its usefulness when I had to dive in Arctic waters. We also had survival suits that we used only once, after crash-landing through the breakers on the beach below the old Cape Horn lighthouse.

The diving gear and tanks were mainly for emergencies, as I was quite a proficient free diver. I spent hours spearfishing to feed the family on our first voyage, but abandoned the sport when protecting the environment became a major concern. I continued fishing on passage, and we always caught enough fish to ensure a supply of fresh food for the crew.

Perhaps the most important item on board is the liferaft. Because it is rarely used, it is often stowed in a location that’s far from ideal. A golden rule about the liferaft is that the weakest member of the crew should be able to handle and launch it. On all my boats from Aventura II onward, the liferaft was always at the stern for easy launch.

Day Tank

All my boats up to Aventura IV had a 10.5-gallon tank mounted about 3 feet higher than the engine so the fuel was gravity-fed to it. We topped up the tank every four or five hours by manually activating a fuel transfer pump. I deliberately avoided having an automatic filling system, and instead placed the switch for the pump where it was easy to see the glass water separator and make sure the fuel was clean.

Apart from that pre-filter, there were two more filters before the fuel reached the engine. Another advantage of a day tank was that we always knew we had 10.5 gallons of fuel, even if the main tank was empty.

Mast Steps

Another useful item that can make life easier is mast steps.

They were a great bonus when we were scouting ahead, either when we were looking for a lead through the ice in the Arctic or avoiding coral heads in a tropical lagoon. These tasks became much easier when we acquired the first forward-looking sonar, but we continued to play it safe with my wife, Gwenda, keeping an eye on the depth and obstructions ahead on the cockpit-mounted forward-looking sonar. I would still do my eyeball navigation from the spreaders.

Aventura III’s mast steps probably saved our mast when one of the spreaders collapsed on the way to the Falklands. My crew was able to climb the mast quickly, retrieve the spreader, and then secure the rig with a spare spinnaker halyard.

The mast steps were also useful when it was time to check the rigging or the instruments at the top of the mast. Most of the time, we used them to climb up the mast to take photos.

Aventura IV’s Parasailor spinnaker was my favorite downwind sail, and it took me a long time to reach that high-tech level. My search for a functional downwind setup started with a twin-jib arrangement on the first Aventura. The system worked well and was easy to set up with two separate forestays. The only problem was the awful rolling, which I tried to dampen by having a storm trysail sheeted hard amidships on the mainsail track. It sort of worked, but I soon realized the solution might lie elsewhere.

A beautiful mizzen staysail, which Gwenda produced on her sewing machine, was perfect for broad reaching, usually in combination with the mainsail and poled-out genoa.

Aventura II’s first spinnaker turned me into an addict with sails that were asymmetrical and triradial, and then finally, the Parasailor. Each one played an essential role in the fast passages we achieved on our three following boats.

Shallow Draft and Centerboard

A fixed keel may be best for ocean passages, but having a shallow draft when cruising is ideal for exploring places that other boats cannot reach. It’s also safe because it lets the crew to find shelter in a protected spot in an emergency.

Aventura II’s lifting keel fulfilled both objectives, but it was only when Aventura III’s centerboard appeared on the scene that I finally had the perfect solution. It not only made it possible to reduce draft quickly, but it also improved our sailing performance.

I have often been asked how safe it is to sail on a boat without a keel. I have sailed twice across the Drake Passage to Antarctica and back, first on Skip Novak’s Pelagic and then on Aventura III. They both were centerboard boats. I once experienced winds of 50 to 60 knots, and I can vouch for either boat’s stability under such conditions. They coped impressively well with the high Southern Ocean swell, and they put any possible doubts to rest.

Aventura III and IV had an integral centerboard, which meant that when the board was raised, it fully retracted into the hull. The ballast-to-displacement ratio on each boat was 32, similar to most other cruising boats. Most integral centerboard boats have a flat bottom, so with the board fully up, they can dry out on a beach, which is yet another advantage.

In the words of Pete Goss, whose Pearl of Penzance was an Exploration 45 similar to Aventura IV: “A centerboard’s real advantage is not the ability to reduce the draft, but the peace of mind attribute. We were able to surf down Atlantic swells with the confidence of fixed ballast. Being able to lift the centerboard under such conditions meant that she didn’t trip up off the wind, and became directionally stable to the point of being docile. This, in turn, gave a more comfortable ride, de-stressed all areas of the boat, including the autopilot and power consumption.”

Shallow draft is a major attraction of centerboard yachts, but there are also some considerable performance advantages. The main role of the board is to provide lift when sailing closehauled, and to reduce leeway when reaching. With the board fully down, Aventura III drew 7 feet, 10 inches.  When sailed properly, it could point as high, or almost as high, as most keeled cruising boats. With a draft of 9 feet, 2 inches with the board down, Aventura IV performed even better than her predecessor. Aventura Zero had a draft of 2 feet, 11 inches with the two daggerboards raised, and 7 feet with them lowered.

There is a certain technique in sailing a centerboarder efficiently, not just on the wind, but off the wind as well. This is when the centerboard becomes a true asset thanks to the ability to lift the board gradually as the apparent wind goes past 135 degrees, and then continue lifting it up to the point where the board is fully retracted.

This is a great advantage, as the risk of broaching is virtually eliminated. As Goss pointed out, the absence of a keel to act as a pivot in a potential broaching situation means the boat does not tend to round up. It is a feature that has allowed me to continue keeping the spinnaker up longer than would normally have been safe. 

Fixed Pole

My favorite broad-reaching or running technique is to set up the pole independently of the sail I intend to use, so the pole is held firmly in position by the topping lift, forward and aft guys, with all three lines being led back to the cockpit. Regardless of whether I decide to pole out a foresail or spinnaker, the sheet is led through the jaws of the pole, which is then hoisted in the desired place.

Once the pole is in place and is held firmly by the three lines, the sail can be unfurled, or the spinnaker hoisted, and its douser pulled up. With the pole being independent of the sail, the latter can be furled partially or fully without touching the pole.

This setup is a great advantage when the sail has to be reduced or furled quickly, if a squall is threatening. Once the squall has passed, with the pole still in place, the sail can be easily unfurled.

When sailing under spinnaker and threatened by a squall, I preferred to douse it and lower it onto the foredeck. Once the danger passes, the spinnaker, while still in its sock, can be hoisted again and undoused.

My routine became so well tuned that I could hoist and douse the spinnaker on my own. The last time I did this was on a test sail with Aventura Zero off La Grande-Motte, France, the site of the Outremer Catamarans boatyard. I wanted to show my much younger crew how more brain and less brawn could tame a monster the size of a tennis court.

Parasailor

The major attraction of the Parasailor is that it acts as a classic triradial spinnaker and doubles as an asymmetrical sail. Its main features are the wide slot that runs from side to side about one-third down from the top, and a wing below the slot, on the forward side of the sail.

Once the Parasailor is up and poled out, the slot and wing help it stay full even in light winds. I have used it on a few occasions in as little as 5 knots of true wind, and every time, it looked like collapsing the backpressure exerted by the slot kept it full.

It is in strong winds, however, that the Parasailor comes into its own. Normally, I drop the spinnaker when the true wind reaches 15 knots. On one occasion, on the way from New Zealand to New Caledonia on Aventura III, when I saw a squall approaching, I decided to leave it up and see what happened. From 15 knots, the wind went up and up and settled at 27 knots. Aventura took it all in stride, accelerated to 9, then 10 knots and then once, when it caught the right wave, surged to 14 knots.

The Parasailor behaved as normally as before, with the wing streaming ahead and the slot wide open, almost visibly spilling the wind.

Boom Brake

This was another useful feature on my boats, as it prevented major damage in an involuntary jibe, as I experienced on three separate occasions.

The most memorable one happened on the southbound passage from Greenland, after having abandoned the attempt to transit the Northwest Passage from east to west. All the crew had left us in Nuuk, except for my daughter Doina. The northwest winds with gusts over 40 produced some nasty seas while sailing across an area of banks with depths of 100 to 130 feet. We were broad-reaching with three reefs in the mainsail, no foresail, and the centerboard fully up, a combination I had used in similar conditions in the past. Aventura IV was taking it well, occasionally surfing at 10 to 12 knots.

Everything seemed to be under control until a large wave broke violently over us, throwing us into a jibe. The boom brake controlled the swing of the mainsail, but when I reset the autopilot back on course, Doina pointed to the boom, which was hanging down at a strange angle. The gooseneck fitting was broken, but the boom was still held up by the mainsail and reefing lines. Apart from the broken casting, the boom itself was undamaged.

I secured the boom with two lines to the mast winches, and we continued sailing like that. We completed the 1,100-mile passage to St. John’s in Newfoundland in seven days without any further problems. A local workshop manufactured a new fitting, this time machined of solid aluminium.

Sailing in strong winds with just the mainsail is something I discovered by chance while crossing the Bay of Biscay along the west coasts of France and Spain on Aventura II’s maiden voyage. With the northerly wind gradually increasing, I tried to furl the mainsail into the mast, but the furling gear jammed and wouldn’t budge. The only options were to put a knife to the expensive sail, something I was reluctant to do, or continue sailing like that.

Sailing with a full mainsail and no jib in winds often gusting over 30 knots was certainly exhilarating. We made it safely into Lisbon, Portugal, where the fault was diagnosed at the top end of the furling gear, which was easily fixed. It never happened again.

Another adrenaline-spiked passage was across the Tasman Sea from Fiji to New Zealand on Aventura III. A low caught up with us, bringing favorable but increasingly strong northwest winds. Because of the uncomfortable swell, Gwenda spent much of the time in her bunk. Earlier in the trip, when the winds were lighter, I had left the steering to the windvane, but when the wind got stronger and there was a risk of jibing, I preferred to put my trust in the autopilot. The worst drawback of a full-batten mainsail is the difficulty of dropping it, even in moderate following winds, as the sail is pushed against the spreaders and the battens tend to get caught in the rigging. Usually, I prefer to keep the full mainsail as long as possible, but when the wind gets over 30 knots, I furl up the foresail and continue sailing with the deeply reefed mainsail.

This may sound like a rather unusual way of sailing, and it may not suit some boats, but Aventura coped well with it, and I got used to it.

Every now and again, I disengaged the autopilot and steered for a few minutes, enjoying the boat surfing down the waves with the speedometer rarely going below 10 knots. At one point, Gwenda put her head through the hatch and, as she later told me, saw me standing at the wheel with a huge grin on my face.

“You are absolutely crazy,” was all she said before going back to her bunk. She repeated those words more colorfully later, when the weather had calmed down. 

Essential Backups

The dual steering system on the first Aventura taught me the importance of having backups for all essential items. We always had two tenders: a smaller and a larger inflatable dinghy. The former could be quickly inflated and was easy to row, while the latter was used on longer trips. On Aventura III, we had two outboard motors, a 5 hp and a 2.5 hp backup, which we always took with us when we went on longer forays in Antarctica and Alaska.

Communications followed the same pattern. Aventura II had Inmarsat C for text, and single sideband radio for voice. Aventura III had a similar system, with an Iridium satphone added later. Aventura IV had an Iridium Pilot broadband, which allowed us to download the daily ice charts for the Northwest Passage, and let us send and receiving large files and photographs. Aventura Zero had the more advanced Iridium Certus broadband. An Iridium satphone was an emergency backup on all recent boats and was an extremely useful, and cheaper, stand-in for the more sophisticated systems.

However, I believe that the most important backup to have, especially on a shorthanded boat, is a second automatic pilot. We didn’t have one on the first Aventura because they were not available in those days, but we had reliable Aries self-steering gear. I hate to look back now at the countless hours spent at the wheel when there was no wind, and we had to motor.

On Aventura II, we had both a Hydrovane gear and a small automatic pilot. Aventura III had a Windpilot self-steering gear, an automatic pilot and a backup tiller pilot. The latter proved its worth when the main unit broke on a passage from Hawaii to Alaska. As we crossed the North Pacific High, we were becalmed in thick fog and surrounded by lots of fishing trawlers. We had to keep watch permanently on radar while maintaining course.

Aventura IV had two entirely independent B&G autopilots, which we used intermittently to ensure that both were in working order. Aventura Zero had a sophisticated emergency backup with an entirely separate second autopilot. In case of a lightning strike, the system was entirely insulated from the rest of the boat. It included an autopilot processor, ram and rudder sensor, Triton display unit, GPS and wireless wind sensor. An emergency 1,200-Ah battery, charged by a Sail-Gen hydrogenerator or the solar panels, could supply electricity not only to the autopilot and backup instruments, but also to the service and propulsion batteries if necessary. It was the ultimate belt-and-suspenders concept, in line with my almost obsessive cautious mindset.

The system proved its worth in Seville, Spain, when the adjacent dock was struck by lightning. The charge travelled through the water and reached the propellers. It put the entire propulsion system out of order. But the boat’s electrics and electronic equipment, which were not connected to anything else on board, were not affected.

I have always considered myself to be a lucky person. After 200,000 miles, I believe that the saying “fortune favors the bold” should be followed by “provided it is backed by a strong sense of prudence.” 

The post The Art of Lateral Thinking Under Sail appeared first on Cruising World.

In an Atlantic crossing, whether racing or cruising, the ocean rewards preparation, patience and sound judgment. As competitors ready themselves for the 2026 RORC Transatlantic Race from Lanzarote to Antigua, three of offshore sailing’s most accomplished navigators are studying the same weather systems that shape any east to west passage. Their approaches may be sharpened by competition, but the lessons translate directly to long range cruising.

Chris Jackson, RORC race officer and an eight time Atlantic crosser, sets the strategic backdrop. “On current forecasts the weather outlook for the RORC Transatlantic Race this year is looking good,” he said. The trades appear well established, with a lighter wind exit from the Canary Islands before settling into steadier downwind conditions farther west. For cruisers, that familiar pattern reinforces the value of patience early on, resisting the urge to force speed until the trades fully fill in.

Jackson also points to factors cruisers know well. Isolated squalls may pepper the course, and much of the route is shaping up as a VMG run close to the rhumb line rather than a deep dive south. For passagemakers, that underscores the importance of balancing miles sailed against comfort and consistency, not simply chasing stronger breeze.

Juan Vila, navigating the Carkeek 45 Ino Noir, brings a perspective that resonates strongly with cruising sailors. Having navigated everything from America’s Cup yachts to record setting maxis, Vila emphasizes that boat speed dictates strategy. “On a fast boat you sail from one weather system to the next,” he said. “On a smaller boat you wait for the weather to come to you, so positioning becomes far more important.”

That mindset mirrors the reality aboard many cruising boats. Rather than hunting distant forecasts, Vila focuses on medium-range models, currents and the evolving shape of the trades. His advice applies offshore as well. Study how wind belts shift day to day, watch current flow and be ready to adjust course slightly to stay in pressure. Flexibility matters. “That flexibility is huge,” Vila said, noting how VMG sailing early and efficient reaching later can make a meaningful difference.

Vila also stresses instinct. “When you are in island shadows or playing squalls, you trust what you see,” he said. Cruisers threading squall lines at night or managing acceleration zones downwind know that no model replaces eyes on the water and experience built over miles.

At the other end of the spectrum is Will Oxley aboard the Baltic 111 Raven, a yacht capable of sustaining speeds that most cruisers will never see. Yet his core principles remain familiar. “The fundamentals of routing don’t change,” Oxley said. “Every boat has a polar and you run routings against that.”

For cruisers, the takeaway is knowing your own boat. Understand realistic speeds loaded for passagemaking and factor sea state into decisions. Oxley routes to avoid rough water even if it means sailing farther. That tradeoff will sound familiar to any crew choosing comfort and safety over shaving a few hours off an ETA.

Oxley also highlights the importance of understanding weather data rather than simply consuming it. “You must understand why they are showing what they show,” he said. High resolution models are powerful tools, but interpretation and context remain critical. New AI-based models may extend forecast confidence, but judgment still matters most.

Miles Seddon’s world aboard the MOD70 Zoulou is defined by speed and immediacy, yet his insights echo classic seamanship. “It looks like getting into the trade winds quickly and avoiding a ridge of high pressure north of the rhumb line will be key,” he said. For cruisers, that reinforces the classic Atlantic goal of finding sustained pressure and staying out of light air traps.

Seddon emphasizes discipline at speed. “We set clear limits on wind strength and direction before maneuvers,” he said. Long distance cruisers may not jibe at 30 knots, but preplanning sail changes, squall tactics and rest schedules is just as important when shorthanded.

Across three very different boats and mindsets, a common thread emerges. Data informs decisions, but experience refines them. Whether waiting for the weather to arrive, protecting the boat in big seas or committing to a conservative line through uncertain forecasts, the Atlantic demands respect.

As the RORC Transatlantic fleet prepares to depart Lanzarote, us mortal cruisers watching from afar can take comfort in a familiar truth: The same trade winds, squalls and currents shape every crossing. The best outcomes come from patience and preparation, and making every decision with the long view in mind.

The post How Top Race Navigators Read the Atlantic and What Cruisers Can Learn appeared first on Cruising World.

Having a few soft spots in the balsa-cored deck of your 50-plus-year-old sailboat is neither uncommon nor all that concerning. However, last season I noticed a not-to-subtle flex in the foredeck of our Newport 41 when I was retrieving the anchor from particularly sticky mud. We’d had the foredeck reinforced from below in 2008, when we’d upgraded our anchor windlass after buying Kate, but now there were spongy areas underfoot.

We decided to tackle the project ourselves. We bought an oscillating saw, a circular saw and a wet-dry vacuum. Then we booked a haul out at Penuwasa Shipyard in Kudat, Borneo, Malaysia. We took a deep breath, and we opened a proverbial can of worms.

Demo Day

Balsa wood has been the preferred material for cored deck construction for decades. It’s light, but extremely strong. It can be laid as small tiles adhered to a scrim (an open-weave material) and can serve as a sandwich between layers of fiberglass, with the grain running perpendicular to the outer skin. The 2-inch balsa tiles are flexible enough to conform to the gentle radius of the deck, and the end-grain application provides superior compression strength because forces are exerted down the length of the grain rather than across it.

The downfall of balsa-cored decks is when water finds it way below the fiberglass skin. Most commonly, this happens when deck hardware is improperly sealed, or the sealant breaks down. Balsa can absorb a lot of water before it begins to rot, resulting in a soft spot. It can be years before damage is noticed, making it difficult to pinpoint how the water ingress occurred.

We first had to determine how much of our deck was affected. We tapped on the deck with a hammer and heard a dead hollow sound, rather than a solid thud. My husband decided that most of the foredeck sounded suspicious. Our problem was larger than we’d first thought. 

To preserve enough structural strength to support the weight of two people while working, we had to open the deck in sections. We removed the anchor windlass, deck hardware and pulpit, and then we marked out our cuts.

Steve used the oscillating saw to cut through the top layer of the deck. He started with a large triangle section that extended from the bow roller to behind the windlass. Then he pulled the crust off the sandwich, removing the fiberglass with as little damage as possible;  we wanted to reuse the piece during reconstruction. Our original fiberglass had no major imperfections and fit the cutout perfectly.

With the top skin removed, we got a look not only at the balsa, but also into the history of our boat. We discovered that a piece of marine plywood ran down the middle of the foredeck under the sail track. Curiously, we found a pair of wires running through the balsa core on the starboard side of the plywood. The boat’s electrical system had been updated long before we took ownership, so we had no idea that the original wiring had been concealed within the deck. Now, the defunct wire provided a conduit for moisture to flow through the balsa. 

We needed to follow the trail, to see how far the wires and the rot went. Steve cut a larger section that covered the starboard side of the foredeck from the toe rail to the centerline, ending about 20 inches from the first cutout. Not only had the wires funneled the water ingress down the starboard side, but we also found a mass of what looked and smelled like tar. The sticky puddle had been injected through holes drilled in the deck. A shortcut solution by a previous owner that disguised the soft spot.

Next was the dirty task of removing the rotten balsa. Armed with a scrapper, a chisel and a lot of determination, Steve spent several hours filling buckets with bits of soggy wood. Some areas peeled away in chunks that resembled canned tuna, juice and all. Others crumbled into a paste and easily scraped away. A few balsa tiles on the outboard edge were dry, so we left them intact.

The injected areas were difficult to move and worrisome. We’d seen injection holes peppered across other parts of the deck when we’d had the boat painted in Fiji several years before. How much of a mess had the earlier DIYer left in his wake?

With rot removed, we sanded the areas to fair the surface, and left it open to the blistering tropical sun to dry any remaining moisture. Steve cleaned the bottom of the fiberglass skin using a flap disc grinding wheel, removing any stuck-on resin and leveling out the surface. 

The New Core

In an ideal world, we would have used end-grain balsa tiles to reconstruct the deck. That wasn’t really an option because importing balsa was difficult and costly. However, because of a nearby wooden-boat fishing fleet, good-quality marine plywood was readily available. 

Marine plywood is strong, but there are trade-offs. Because of the multilayer construction of plywood, the grain runs horizontally. This makes it prone to wicking moisture across the layers if it’s exposed to water. To achieve the correct curve across the deck, the plywood needs to be cut into several small pieces, with each piece coated in resin for waterproofing before installation. This adds time to the project. And, since plywood is heavier than balsa, there will be weight gain. 

We figured a few extra pounds and a little more work were better than a rotten deck. Using the fiberglass as a template, we patterned the plywood by tracing each skin, then divided that shape into rough 4-by-4-inch blocks. We labeled each column and row before making any cuts. I sanded the edges of each block, removing any rough spots.

Then it was time for a dry fit, which is essential. Blocks can be modified to work around any obstructions or high spots. Believe me, when working with a handlaid fiberglass boat, there will be a few irregularities. 

With the dry fit done, we marked a border with a red line that we could match up during the final installation. Some of our edge blocks fit under the existing deck, and the red line let us know exactly how far to knock the blocks into the void.

I sealed the blocks with a coat of polyester resin on all sides. Many boaters go with epoxy, but we were working on the cusp of the rainy season, when midday temperatures stretched towards 95 degrees Fahrenheit and rain clouds hung on the horizon. It is possible to slightly adjust the amount of catalyst added to extend the cure time of polyester, which is also advantageous the tropics. Epoxy, on the other hand, requires precise measuring, mixing and temperatures. Epoxy is also less UV-stable, more prone to develop hairline cracks under stress, and cannot be covered with gelcoat. 

And our boat was hand laid in 1973. It is totally constructed with polyester. We figured if the stuff endured the past 53 years, then it is strong enough to use for a few repairs. 

We dried the wet plywood blocks on sheets of baking paper, whose nonslip properties don’t just apply in galley. Dried resin lifts right off it, making it easy to clean up and move the dry, but still tacky blocks. I simply stacked the sheets like a layer cake.

Reconstruction

With more than 100 plywood blocks to organize, pots of resin to mix, and a growing pile of spent gloves and sticky brushes to keep tidy, the process of putting the deck back together was a two-person job. My role was to mix the polyester resin in batches and hand the blocks to Steve. He put them in place, making sure everything was level, sealed and properly fitted.

First, we used resin on the deck cavities and the underside of the original pieces of deck that we had removed. This sealed the surfaces and provided a sticky canvas. The “glue” we used to adhere the blocks in place was polyester resin thickened with fumed silica. It’s a food-grade fine powder that adjusts the viscosity of paints and polyester resin to prevent sagging. I mixed each batch to the consistency of a stiff peak meringue; it needed a little encouragement to plop off the brush. Working in small batches meant we avoided resin setting up before we were able to use it.

When all the blocks were in place, I mixed larger batches to act as a filler and as an adhesive for the top pieces. This layer was thick enough that it smooshed out of the seams just slightly when we laid the original fiberglass deck pieces back down. Using jerry cans and buckets filled with water, dive weights and heavy pieces of timber, we weighted down the two top pieces, making sure the cut seams were as even as possible and there was no buckling or gaps. 

All we had left to do was clean up, cross our fingers and wait. Forty-eight hours later, we removed the weights, and we were delighted that the deck felt more solid underfoot than it had in years.

The next step would be to grind down the seams and reseal the cuts with a few layers of fiberglass mat and more polyester, before a final fairing—but all of that would have to wait. Instead, over the next several weeks, we replaced almost all the balsa core in the foredeck. We also found soft spots farther aft on the starboard side deck, and repaired those as well. 

With each section, our confidence in our abilities solidified, and we thought about all those injection holes we’d seen.

As the rainy season loomed, we bought a tarp to drape over the boom, grabbed the saw and prepared to open the next can of worms.

Heather Francis is originally from Nova Scotia, Canada. She and her Aussie husband, Steve, have been living and sailing on their 1973 Newport 41, Kate, since 2008.

They’re currently in Borneo, Malaysia.

Follow their adventures at yachtkate.com.

The post Balsa Core Decks: Repair Tips for Sailboat Owners appeared first on Cruising World.

A through-hull is the plumbing component that passes through the hull. A seacock is the valve attached to the through-hull. Usually, a through-hull is visible only from the outside of the boat, while the seacock is visible only from inside the hull. 

The American Boat & Yacht Council’s standards for seacocks dictate that every through-hull fitting below the heeled waterline (everything that is “wet” when heeling to the toe rail) must be equipped with a seacock. The one exception to this rule is that fittings above the resting waterline may substitute a seacock for reinforced hose. (I use SAE J2006 exhaust hose with wire reinforcement.)   

Seacocks, like everything else on a boat, require regular inspection and service. Begin by locating every seacock and through-hull fitting aboard. Create a drawing or map, identifying each one and its application.   

Once the map is complete, inspect each seacock for signs of leakage or corrosion. Green or verdigris is normal for bronze fittings. You should expect to see that. However, if it is the result of leakage, that is concerning. 

Conversely, if any of the fittings appear to be pink, this is a sign of dezincification, a type of corrosion that is peculiar to brass. Brass is entirely unsuited to raw-water applications, and under no circumstances should it be used in this application. If you have nonmetallic seacocks, check those for cracks.

A properly installed seacock should be able to endure 500 pounds of static load for 30 seconds, applied to its most inboard rigidly attached fitting. It’s best to keep rigidly attached fittings to a minimum; ideally, this would be only a pipe-to-hose adapter, with all other fittings separated from the seacock by a section of hose. If any of yours look like they may not hold up to this test, then consider replacing them. 

In addition to inspecting seacock hardware, you should also look closely at hose clamps and backing blocks. Hose clamps should be free of all corrosion. Any brown discoloration is too much. It warrants replacement.  

While ABYC standards do not mandate dual clamps on seacock hoses, it’s prudent and cheap insurance to double up. Be sure to use the proper-length clamp. Long, excess tails are a laceration hazard. Even short tails can cause injuries in areas that are accessed regularly, such as under sinks and around engines. These tails should be bent down using needle-nose pliers, or they should be capped.

Backing blocks can be made from marine plywood (ideally, epoxy encapsulated), fiberglass flat stock known as GPO3, or epoxy stock known as G10. Backing blocks should not be made from solid timber, even if it is teak, as this is prone to cracking. They also should not be made from ultra-high molecular weight polyethylene or King StarBoard.  

Make certain that every seacock handle rotates freely through its full 90 degrees of travel, but no farther. If any are seized or especially difficult to move, they will require further attention. Some types of seacocks can be disassembled for cleaning and lubrication, while others can’t. If yours are the latter, and assuming that the vessel is hauled out, you may have success by removing the hose from the seacock, and then spraying or pouring penetrating oil into the cavity. Let it set for a few hours before you try again.  

At least one seacock manufacturer adds an extension to the handle for increased leverage.  If you have one of these, then it’s safe to use this approach. For all others, you may do so knowing that if the valve stem or handle breaks, it will need to be replaced. If the valve is seized, it would need replacement in any event.

Finally, some seacocks are designed to accept a Zerk fitting, which allows the cavity between the ball and body of the valve to be filled with grease. This prevents water from filling the space, which in turn prevents corrosion and keeps the parts moving freely. 

Steve D’Antonio offers services for boat owners and buyers through Steve D’Antonio Marine Consulting.

The post Seacock Safety: A Must-do Guide for Boat Owners appeared first on Cruising World.

When I bought my Down East 45, the shower in the aft stateroom’s head drained directly into the bilge, where the boat’s regular bilge pump removed it. This is not a good setup, because even with the boat’s powerful automatic bilge pump that discharged the soapy water out of the side of the boat into the sea, there was always a small amount of residue left over. It soon began to smell. 

I considered fitting an automatic self-draining shower system at a cost of $200 or more. Then I thought about making one myself.

These types of automatic shower drains are pretty simple. A small bilge pump is mounted inside a watertight container, along with a float switch. As the shower water runs into the container, the switch activates the pump, which removes the water through a seacock. There is no overspill or leakage into the boat’s bilge. 

I had an old bilge pump I could use, but it needed a container that had at least 6 inches of clearance inside its lid. I found a plastic container with a tight-fitting lid at a big-box store for the vast sum of $7.95. I also bought a float switch for $9.50. 

The container needed an inlet and outlet pipe. I found a nylon fitting at my local hardware store. The fitting had a ¾-inch barbed pipe on one end that matched the shower drain pipe, and a 1-inch pipe thread on the other. The thread just happened to be a nice, tight fit into the 1¼-inch holes I cut in the side of the container with a hole cutter. 

I was not able to find a nylon nut to fit the 1-inch pipe thread to secure the fitting to the box, and I didn’t want to use steel or stainless steel in a water-filled box, so I bought a cheap PVC pipe coupling with the same threads as the fittings in both ends. I then sawed a half inch of each end with a hacksaw to give me two round nuts to secure the fittings. 

For good measure on waterproofing the seal, I also fitted a 1¼-inch internal diameter plastic sink drain washer. All these items cost less than $22.

A short length of rubber pipe from my spare pipes locker pushed snugly into the pump outlet, and equally well into the outlet fitting through the container. There was no need for any pipe on the inlet fitting because the shower water would run freely into the container. I also didn’t see any need for the internal filter that is fitted to shower drains, because only soapy water would flow into the box, and the bilge pump had a filter base. 

I did buy a ¾-inch diameter, one-way check valve that fitted exactly inside the discharge pipe from the pump. This little rubber valve prevents water from running back into the container from the uphill passage of the discharge pipe over the side. 

Next, I drilled tiny holes in the side of the container for the four wires from the bilge pump and float switch. I sealed them with Goop glue. 

My pump was quite heavy on a 4-inch circular flat base. When I connected it to the outlet fitting, it stayed firmly in place with no need to fasten it to the bottom of the box. 

The float switch needed fastening, but I didn’t want to risk a leak by drilling a hole in the base of the box and screwing it in place. Instead, I fastened it with Goop glue, which is superb for waterproof applications. 

I connected one of the float switch wires to the black positive wire from the pump. The other wire from the float switch went to a single pole switch that I mounted near the shower so the pump could be activated at the time of a shower. The switch was powered from a 12-volt contact breaker on the electrical distribution board. 

In the end, I mounted the complete box on a shelf in the engine room adjacent to the shower floor, but a little bit lower so water would drain directly into the box by way of gravity, then pump out through an existing hull fitting. 

Even if I’d had to buy a new pump, which is about $60, I still would’ve saved money by building this myself. Sure, you can spend $200 to $350, but if you are a DIY cruiser, there is always a way to save money.

The post Transform Your Boat With a DIY Shower Drain appeared first on Cruising World.

Each fall, a familiar sight plays out along the US East Coast. Mastheads dip southward, cockpit canvas snaps in the first cool northerlies, and cruising sailors trade frost for turquoise water. The run from New England to the warm latitudes is not just a trip. It is a rite of passage, something between a seasonal escape and a seamanship masterclass.

Whether your winter destination is Florida, the Bahamas or deeper in the Caribbean, planning early and moving with intention can make your passage safer and a lot more enjoyable. Here is how experienced sailors approach the southern migration and what you can do to prepare your crew and boat.

Test your heavy-weather game at home

Before pointing the bow south, take your boat out in a solid breeze and practice. Reef early, shorten headsails, and get comfortable handling the boat when it is pressed. Try beating, reaching and running. Practice heaving-to. Hoist and tension your storm or staysail rig if you have one. Try your emergency tiller on multiple points of sail.

You do not need a gale. You need repetition. The goal is to uncover weak points in gear and confidence while you still have chandlers, riggers and parts close by. Veteran voyagers will tell you that nothing lowers offshore anxiety like knowing your reefing systems and steering backups work without hesitation.

Treat reefing as a daily tool

The boats that stay comfortable offshore are the ones that reef with purpose. Reefing is not about surrender. It is about flattening the main, reducing weather helm and locking in an easy motion when evening squalls roll through. If you have in-boom or single-line reefing, have a rigger inspect the run and remove twists before departure. Sail in moderate air and practice tying reefs and shaking them out until the process is smooth.

Rig a preventer you trust

A preventer system is cheap insurance against an accidental jibe when running in swells. Rig one end permanently forward, keep it ready to deploy, and rehearse the setup so there is no fumbling in the dark. Many experienced crews also run a reaching sheet for the genoa to open the slot and reduce chafe when broad reaching. Small rigging refinements can turn a rolling run into steady, fast downwind sailing.

Think ventilation, warmth and crew comfort

Early legs can be cold. One day you may be scraping frost off dock lines. A few days later you are rolling into Charleston in shorts. Make it easy for your crew to stay warm, dry and rested during the transition. Fit reliable dorades or opening hatches under a dodger so you can keep air moving when closed up in heavy weather. Offshore fatigue causes mistakes. Warm meals, sleeping bunks that hold you on heel, and a watch schedule with real rest time go a long way.

Pick the right route for your boat and timing

There is no single “right” way south. Boaters choose based on mast height, time, comfort level offshore and destination.

Popular approaches include:

Inside to Florida on the ICW

Ideal for boats that can clear bridges and want to stay inshore. The Intracoastal Waterway offers protection, services and shorter travel days. Watch tides, bridge timing and shoaling. Frosty mornings are temporary. By the time you hit St. Augustine, you will be peeling off layers.

Offshore hops to Charleston or Beaufort, then offshore to the trades

Many crews jump offshore in mid-Atlantic ports and work south-southeast until the easterlies fill in. This route avoids the worst North Atlantic gale belt and keeps the Gulf Stream crossing short.

Avoiding Bermuda on late-fall departures

Classic offshore voices warn that the November gamble to Bermuda often looks good on paper and bad on a weatherfax. Boats that cannot outrun fall systems may find themselves in the teeth of a front. Unless you are heading there early season or cruising slowly, most modern snowbirds skip Bermuda and head straight for lower latitudes.

Weather windows are shorter than you think

Modern routing tools are excellent, but long-range fall forecasts still expire fast. Look for a clean Gulf Stream crossing period and commit to conservative calls. A steady 15 to 20 knots over the quarter is cruising bliss. Thirty knots on the nose in cooling water is teaching you lessons you can learn in textbooks instead.

Experienced voyagers do not hunt perfect weather. They avoid bad weather, prepare for uncomfortable stretches and keep options open.

Fuel, spares and mechanical confidence

Heavy-air training is important, but there will also be quiet stretches when a low-rpm motor push keeps the schedule sane. Carry filters, belts and tools, and practice changing them underway. Clean fuel and reliable cooling belts matter just as much as a balanced sailplan.

If you have never changed a filter offshore on a heel, do it once before departure. Confidence in basic engine work removes stress when you need it most.

Crew matters more than electronics

One of the most repeated offshore truths: fatigue breaks boats and people. A couple with limited offshore time is wise to bring an experienced friend or paid skipper for the first run south. The learning curve is steep, but with the right help, you start the season confident instead of rattled.

Food helps too. Prepare a few hot, hearty meals in advance. When the boat is moving and the breeze builds, having stew or pasta sauce ready to heat keeps morale high.

Enjoy the ride and embrace the surprises

The great migration south is not just about palm trees and rum punches. It is about stories. Sometimes those stories involve warm trade-wind surges on the quarter. Sometimes they involve coaxing a frozen hose off a North Carolina dock at dawn. Either way, you remember them forever.

Prepare, sail smart and give yourself space for the unexpected. That is how you join the long tradition of cruisers who point the bow toward the tropics when the days turn short and the sea calls you forward.

Southbound Prep Checklist

Hands-On Sailor Quick Guide

Before You Cast Off

• Inspect rigging, chainplates, turnbuckles, and cotter pins
  
• Service winches and lubricate furlers
  
• Test and practice reefing under sail
  
• Install jacklines and inspect harnesses/tethers
  
• Confirm emergency tiller fits and functions
  
• Review ditch-bag gear and register EPIRB

Sails and Deck Gear

• Add or prep a staysail and removable inner stay
  
• Carry spare sheets, preventer lines, and chafe gear
  
• Inspect sails for weak stitching and UV damage
  
• Practice heaving-to and running off in heavy weather
  
• Secure anchors, dinghy, and deck gear for offshore

Mechanical & Electrical

• Change fuel filters; carry spares and belts
  
• Bleed fuel system and practice at sea
  
• Test bilge pumps and manual backup
  
• Verify alternator, batteries, and charging systems
  
• Inspect steering quadrant and cables

Safety & Navigation

• Update charts and nav software
  
• Confirm radar, AIS, and satellite comms
  
• Create daily radio schedule with a buddy boat
  
• Review abandon-ship plan and crew roles
  
• Practice man-overboard recovery

Provisioning & Comfort

• Pre-cook several heavy-weather meals
  
• Stock seasickness remedies and hydration supplies
  
• Ventilation scoops and fans ready for tropics
  
• Foul-weather layers, gloves, and handwarmers
  
• Warm-up line and hose if freezing temps possible

Weather & Routing

• Study Gulf Stream angle and eddies
  
• Track fronts and avoid early-season tropics
  
• Identify bail-out harbors and alternate routes
  
• Pick a departure window with light northerly push
  
• Plan conservative watches: 4-on/6-off ideal

Mindset

• You aren’t racing: comfort equals safety
  
• Slow down when tired or the sea builds
  
• Embrace the unexpected and enjoy the ride south

Pro Tip: Practice every critical evolution in home waters first. Offshore is no place to realize you don’t know where a wrench lives.

Rich Douglas is a lifelong cruiser who has logged thousands of miles between New England and the Caribbean aboard his 36-foot sloop, Island Time. When he’s ashore, you’ll likely find him tinkering with a new galley gadget or hunting down the best marina coffee on the East Coast.

The post The Southern Migration: Practical Tips for a Smooth Passage to Warmer Waters appeared first on Cruising World.

As every cruiser knows, your engine might not be the heart of your boat, but it’s definitely the lifeline. That’s especially true when the wind dies or you need to punch through a tricky inlet.

With fall haul-out season approaching, it’s a good time to revisit the basics of diesel engine care: clean fuel, proper lubrication and smart layup strategies that help prevent problems offshore or dockside.  

To dig into some of the most common questions sailors have about fuel and oil systems, Cruising World spoke with Bill McDonald, a longtime pro angler and Lucas Oil ambassador whose marine experience extends to fishing and cruising vessels. From stabilizing fuel to catching wear issues early, here’s what he recommends for keeping your engine healthy, whether the boat is on passage or on the hard.

CW: Contaminants in diesel fuel and engine oil are a constant concern aboard cruising boats. What practical steps can sailors take to minimize contamination, and what role can additives play?

BM: Fuel contamination is one of the most common culprits behind engine problems offshore. Regular maintenance—changing fuel filters, draining water separators and keeping tanks full to minimize condensation—is your first line of defense. Additives designed for marine fuel systems can help disperse water, clean injectors and reduce buildup over time. I’ve used Lucas Marine Fuel Treatment for years in both gas and diesel engines. It’s made a noticeable difference in how clean my injectors stay. In the crankcase, oil stabilizers can provide an extra layer of protection by improving lubricity and reducing wear, which is especially useful when cruising far from shore-based repair options.

CW: Marine engines often sit idle for long periods. How can sailors preserve fuel and oil health during layups or long crossings?

BM: Fuel starts degrading the moment it’s stored. Using a stabilizer when you fill your tanks—ideally just before a long idle period—can help prevent oxidation and gumming. Once it’s added, run the engine briefly so the treated fuel circulates fully through the system. The same idea applies to oil stabilizers: Adding them before a layup helps coat internal components and protect against corrosion and dry starts when it’s time to fire up again.

CW: For sailors using ultra-low-sulfur diesel, what’s the risk of reduced lubricity, and how can that be addressed?

BM: ULSD lacks the lubricating properties of older diesel fuels, a characteristic that can lead to premature wear in injectors and pumps. Many cruisers now use upper-cylinder lubricants or fuel conditioners that restore some of that lost protection. They often include detergents too, which can be helpful for keeping older systems clean.

CW: Why is it important to use marine-specific lubricants instead of automotive products?

BM: Marine engines operate under tougher conditions: long hours at high rpm, and exposure to moisture and salt. Marine-grade oils are formulated to resist corrosion and foaming, and to maintain their properties under heavy load. Using automotive oil may not provide the protection your engine needs in these conditions. 

CW: When should sailors consider using oil additives, and what are the signs that it might help?

BM: Additives shouldn’t be used to mask a real issue, but they can help reduce wear, lower operating temperatures and extend engine life, especially in older engines. If your engine feels sluggish, runs rough or is harder to start than usual, it may be worth looking into oil treatment as part of a broader diagnostic and maintenance approach. 

CW: What’s your advice for diagnosing fuel system issues at sea, and how can sailors prepare?

BM: If your engine starts stumbling or loses power, it’s often a fuel problem: clogged filters, moisture or dirty fuel. Prevention is key. Treat fuel consistently, carry spare filters, and know how to change them underway. Having the right tools and basic familiarity with your fuel system goes a long way. 

CW: Some sailors still encounter ethanol-blended gasoline when fueling dinghy outboards or generators. What’s the risk, and how can it be managed? 

BM: Ethanol absorbs water and can lead to corrosion, phase separation, and damage to seals and hoses in small engines. If you can’t avoid ethanol-blended gas, then use a conditioner designed to counteract those effects. It’s a simple step that can prevent a lot of headaches, especially when fueling at unfamiliar docks.

CW: Do you have any advice for boats operating in tropical or high-humidity environments where corrosion is accelerated?

BM: Salt air and humidity are relentless. Rinse thoroughly with fresh water after outings, check electrical terminals for corrosion, and use anti-corrosion sprays where needed. Good airflow in the engine room or lazarette can also help reduce trapped moisture. Regular inspection is the best prevention.

CW: With more cruisers doing their own oil analysis, what should they be looking for? And can additives affect the results?

BM: Watch for signs like elevated wear metals, thinning viscosity or contamination. Additives can help reduce wear particles and maintain viscosity, especially under load. When I started adding Lucas Oil Stabilizer to my maintenance routine, I saw a drop in wear metals on my reports. But if analysis shows recurring problems, that’s your cue to adjust service intervals or investigate further.

CW: How often should fuel and oil systems be treated during extended cruising, and how does usage affect your maintenance schedule?

BM: Your maintenance rhythm should match your usage. Liveaboards and long-range cruisers may need to treat fuel and change oil every few hundred hours; seasonal sailors might only do this once or twice a year. What matters most is consistency and prepping properly before layup. If you’re using additives, follow the recommended ratios and make sure they’re mixed thoroughly and circulated through the system.

Our final takeaway? Marine engine health is about more than just oil changes. A full-system approach includes clean fuel, good airflow, and protection from corrosion and wear. Additives can help extend engine life, but only when they’re used alongside routine maintenance and thoughtful operation. 

It’s work, yes. But when the wind dies, you’ll be glad you put in the time.

The post Extend Your Marine Engine Life With These Tips appeared first on Cruising World.

Our Stevens 47, Totem, is anchored with 370 feet of chain in 90 feet of water off Majuro Atoll. Around us lie the rusting hulks of cargo ships. We are also amid the coral reefs, aquaculture pens, and a mooring area with a half-dozen cruising boats. Squalls are frequent here, just 7 degrees north of the equator, in the capital of the Marshall Islands. 

Between downpours, my husband, Jamie, and I dinghy in to collect a package at the post office. It’s filled with pure convenience. Two weeks earlier, our portable gas generator wouldn’t start. This isn’t a problem in mostly sunny places, where Totem’s 1,215 watts of solar typically exceed our power needs, but here in the Intertropical Convergence Zone, thick cloud cover blots out the sun for days at a time. 

Without solar power, the suitcase-size generator is essential for charging our batteries. Jamie tried everything to diagnose and fix the issue: carburetor, fuel pump, spark plug, coil, oil sensor. No luck.

There was no suitable replacement available locally, but a shipping agent in Honolulu, for a nominal fee, helped us purchase and deliver a new Honda EU2200i. We might have squeaked by without it, but with more remote islands ahead and a desire to avoid running engine hours just to charge batteries, this felt like a worthy investment. 

Since then, we’ve found the generator’s portability to be vitally useful. At a remote atoll, we once hauled it ashore to power our tools for repairing a rudder on a boat that had struck a coral reef.

Back aboard Totem, Jamie marinized this new generator. A single hour spent adding protective coatings will make future maintenance far easier. Jamie started by removing the exposed fasteners one at a time to apply Tef-Gel to the threads. Once reinstalled, the exposed heads got a coat of CRC Heavy Duty Corrosion Inhibitor or Boeshield T-9.

Next, Jamie marinized the rubber feet that help dampen vibration and sound. Each foot is held on with a bolt—one that tends to rust, stain the deck, and eventually fail. In the past, Jamie tried protective coatings, but none lasted. This time, he filled the inside of the rubber feet with silicone to create a water barrier. If you try this, keep the generator upright if there’s any oil or gas inside.

For the exhaust muffler, Jamie removed the plastic cover and the muffler itself, then sprayed the muffler with high-heat paint for protection. Covering the generator when not in use also helps keep internal components protected from rain and spray.

Once this was all done, and after the engine oil and gas were added, there was one final step before putting the generator into service: installing an hour meter. Ours is activated by engine vibration, giving us a quick visual cue for tracking run time and performing scheduled maintenance. No guesswork. No forgotten log entries. Just change the oil, clean the air filter, and stay on top of maintenance based on real hours run.

With electrical convenience restored, we’re able to top up the batteries and water tanks once again. We’d be catching up on laundry too—but the generator doesn’t keep squalls away, and we’ll need a little more sun to dry our clothes.

The post Why A Marinized Generator is a Must for Cruisers appeared first on Cruising World.

Whether you’re out for a weekend cruise or logging ocean miles on an extended voyage, a reliable and hygienic freshwater system is essential to life afloat. Inconsistent pressure and biofilm buildup are among every boater’s challenges in managing onboard plumbing.

We spoke with the marine systems experts at Vetus to get practical insights into the common problems cruisers encounter, and what to consider when upgrading or maintaining fresh- and wastewater systems.

CW: What are the most common issues sailors face with freshwater systems?

V: Out on the water, two problems tend to pop up again and again: bacterial contamination in tanks and inconsistent water pressure. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve opened a tank on a boat that had been sitting in the tropics for a while and found that telltale green tinge or a whiff of funk. When tanks sit full for long periods, especially in warm climates, bacteria and algae can take hold. The trouble gets worse when the tanks have no easy way in for cleaning or inspection. If you can, choose tanks with large inspection ports or removable lids; it makes regular maintenance and flushes a quick Saturday morning job instead of a full-on project.  

Water pressure woes, such as pulsing or surging at the tap, are another favorite gremlin. More often than not, an undersized or aging pump is to blame, or a system that is missing an accumulator tank altogether. A properly sized pressurized water system with built-in pressure regulation does more than make the flow steady. It makes the everyday stuff, from dishwashing to taking a shower to rinsing salty gear, feel civilized instead of frustrating.

CW: How have modern freshwater systems evolved to meet the needs of long-distance cruisers?

V: These days, durability and ease of maintenance sit at the heart of good freshwater system design. When you are hundreds of miles from the nearest marina, you cannot count on finding a spare pump or the right fitting. Every part of the system, from tanks and hoses to fittings and pumps, has to be able to handle constant use in a salty, often remote environment.  

The good news is that materials and layouts have come a long way. Tanks are built from tougher, more stable materials, pumps are more reliable, and smarter system designs make it easier for owners to handle upkeep themselves. Features such as inspection ports let you install extra gear like senders or sensors without major surgery. Corrosion-resistant hardware and simplified plumbing runs also mean you spend less time chasing leaks and more time focusing on the passage ahead.

CW: What’s new when it comes to conserving water on passage, especially with marine toilets?

V: Modern marine toilets are designed to use less water per flush without giving up hygiene or comfort. Better bowl shapes, smooth cleanable surfaces, and improved flushing mechanisms all work together to reduce overall water use.  

Wastewater management is another part of the conservation picture. Holding tanks and transfer systems are now built from lighter, stronger materials that resist corrosion and are easier to keep clean. These designs also help limit environmental impact. For the long-distance cruiser, the goal is to enjoy the same comfort and convenience you would have in a marina, while taking a responsible approach to both water use and waste handling at sea.

CW: What should boat owners look for when upgrading a water pressure pump?

V: Put quiet operation, energy efficiency, and the ability to run for long stretches at the top of your list. The latest pumps often come with helpful features such as thermal protection, dry-run capability, and integrated check valves. These reduce common failure points and can make installation simpler.  

If your system doesn’t already have one, add an accumulator tank during the upgrade. This small piece of gear smooths out pulsing at the tap and cuts down on pump cycling. The result is a quieter system that uses less battery power and keeps things running smoothly on long passages.

CW: What tank materials and designs are best for onboard use, and how can sailors ensure good hygiene over time?

V: For freshwater, look for tanks built from food-grade, non-corrosive materials such as linear polyethylene. Seamless construction lowers the risk of leaks, and internal baffles help keep water from sloshing around while you are under sail. For wastewater, similar materials provide the strength you need along with good odor resistance.  

Easy access for inspection and cleaning is essential. Larger ports and modular inspection systems make it simple to check the inside of a tank and flush it when needed. In tight spaces, a flexible tank can be a smart option. These tanks conform to the shape of the hull and can fit into compartments where a rigid tank will not go.  CW: Wastewater systems are one of those chores most boat owners would rather not think about, at least until something smells or clogs. What makes for a setup you can rely on without the drama?

V: It starts with odor control, corrosion resistance, and maintenance you can actually keep up with. Thick-walled synthetic tanks with built-in odor barriers do a great job of keeping smells where they belong. Good ventilation is also important, and an inline carbon filter will stop most odors before they even reach the cabin.  

A few smart design choices help too. Narrower hoses, around 19 mm, can improve flow and cut down on the chance of blockages. Inspection ports make it easier to keep tabs on what is going on inside and to give the system a proper cleaning. Even small upgrades like adding a lid opener for sealed tanks or using a biodegradable treatment such as TankFresh can turn a headache into a system you hardly have to think about, which is the real goal when it comes to wastewater at sea.

CW: Odor control is one of those must-get-right parts of any waste system. How do you keep smells from taking over, and what are some best practices sailors should follow?

V: Ventilation is key. You want large-diameter hose runs that slope downward so waste doesn’t hang around and cause trouble. Good airflow through the tank is essential, and “no smell” filters can trap odors before they even escape the vent line.  

Electric toilets with macerators also help a lot. They break down waste and push it through the system more efficiently, which means less buildup and fewer smells. For best results, check regularly for blockages, make sure hose connections are tight, and rinse tanks often with odor-neutralizing treatments. Keeping on top of these simple steps makes life aboard much more pleasant.

CW: Are there digital monitoring systems that help sailors keep tabs on tank levels and system performance?

V: Absolutely. Noncontact ultrasonic level sensors have really changed the game. They give accurate readings for freshwater, fuel, and black- and gray-water tanks without the wear and tear you get from mechanical senders. You can hook these sensors up to a central display, so you get real-time updates on multiple tanks all at once.  

This kind of setup is a huge help on long passages where managing fresh water and holding tank capacity is critical. Smart monitoring means fewer surprises and lets crews stay ahead of any issues before they become problems.

CW: How do these systems integrate with the rest of the boat, especially in tight spaces or custom installations?

V: Many tanks, pumps, and plumbing parts are designed to be modular and compact so they can slip into tight spots without choking off flow or hurting reliability.  

Flexible hoses and ready-to-go installation kits really come in handy on older boats or ones with unusual hull shapes. The last thing you want is a system that forces you into a tangle of rerouted lines every time you try to upgrade. The goal is smooth performance with as little fuss as possible, so you spend less time under the boat and more time enjoying the water.

CW: How can sailors extend the life of their plumbing systems, whether for seasonal or bluewater cruising?

V: It really comes down to regular care. Think of it like giving your boat a little daily attention so it doesn’t throw a fit when you need it most. Clean those freshwater tanks often—nothing worse than algae or bacteria throwing a wrench in your water quality. Swap out filters like clockwork to keep everything tasting fresh and running smooth.  

For waste tanks, treatments like TankFresh are a game changer. They help break down waste naturally and keep the stink at bay, which makes life aboard a lot more pleasant for everyone. After each use, flush your hoses with clean water to avoid nasty blockages and that stagnant water funk nobody wants.  

And don’t forget to eyeball your hoses and fittings regularly for leaks or wear. Ventilation systems need some love too—check for blockages and swap out odor filters before they lose their punch. Stick with these simple habits, and your systems will thank you by staying reliable whether you’re crossing oceans or just keeping the boat ready between trips.

Top Tips for a Trouble-Free Water System

Install inspection ports. Add large, accessible ports to fresh and wastewater tanks for easy cleaning and checks.

Use vent filters. A carbon-based “no smell” filter on your tank vent line can eliminate most odors before they enter the cabin.

Add an accumulator tank. This helps smooth out pulsing pressure and reduces pump cycling. It’s especially useful for long-term cruisers.

Choose flexible hoses. Marine-grade hoses with built-in odor barriers make tight routing easier, and they last longer.

Monitor with ultrasonic sensors. Non-contact level monitors prevent overflows, alert you to shortages, and reduce maintenance surprises.

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