Odda Sea - Life Aboard An Allied Princess Sailing Yacht - Musings

Let's Talk Electric Propulsion Part 1: Why Electric?

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 06:26:36 +0000

So, I’ve promised a discussion on the electrical installation for a while now, and I figured with this week of wet, rainy, misty weather that I’d take a bit of time off from the outdoor work I can’t get done. In between indoor projects I’ll be writing a mini-series of articles covering the following topics on my recent electric repower:

1. Why electric?
2. Installation tour
3. Recharging and power management
4. Dealing with “range anxiety”

If you’d like to see something specific covered that you don’t think I’ll get to in one of those discussions or if you have any further questions on a particular topic, please leave them in the comments and I will write a 5th section covering your questions in detail.

I’m going to try to commit to one of these articles every other day for the next week or so, though I might whip out two in one day and nothing for the next four - I’m juggling quite a few projects right now so sometimes I get time in a day and sometimes I just have to punch through and finish something while I have the opportunity (weather, temperature, parts, etc) to get it done right then. So please bear with me but I will try to get these out on a sort of reasonable schedule here for those of you who are really interested in the topic.

That said, here’s the first part!

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Why Electric?

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The subject of electric propulsion for boats has been under intense discussion for nearly a century now, believe it or not. Ever since the first electric motors were assembled and the first reasonable-capacity batteries were available, the idea of powering a propeller via electric drive was on the menu. All non-nuclear submarines to this day use electricity as their primary propulsion power. Obviously there are significant reasons why this system of propulsion isn’t widespread on the surface of the water today, or, well, it would be. However, though the times may be ‘a-changin’ slowly, ‘a-changin’ they are indeed¹, as modern technology steadily moves the usefulness, range, and cost/value ratio ever more in favor of the electric drive. Nevertheless, it is still very much a loaded decision that requires acute awareness of the tradeoffs required to reap the considerable benefits.

While the main purpose of this article is to discuss why *I* chose an electric drive for my boat, I hope that by sharing my thought process and key information it might help provide some useful fodder for discussion, perhaps even encouraging you to consider the switch for your own boat.

Before I begin, for those of you who want to dip your toe in the technical “how can an electric motor replace a diesel” conversation, which I won’t really get into here (but might expand in future episodes), see footnote 2 at the end of this article.

For most of you, a good place to start is to introduce what a typical electric setup looks like. I find it helps to relate it to your typical diesel engine for those of you who like comparisons. A typical diesel has a fuel tank to store energy that will later be burned to power the prop. It has a throttle to control speed by varying the amount of fuel injected (or by controlling the airflow, but this is more common on gasoline engines). It has a transmission to switch between neutral, forward, and reverse gears, and it has exhaust, cooling, and lubrication systems to help keep everything running smoothly. It also tends to drip those fluids all over your bilge and spatter them across the inside of your engine bay.

An electric system, on the other hand, has a battery bank to store energy which will later be converted via magnetic fields to power the prop. It has a throttle which, with the assistance of a semi-intelligent power controller, adjusts the speed at which the prop spins by varying the force of the magnetic field inside the motor. Some of them have a gear or belt drive to change the ratio of motor speed to prop speed, but none that I am aware of have an actual transmission, since the motor can spin both forward and backwards (and doesn’t care which way is forward or reverse, its all the same to the motor) and does not need to keep spinning even when its power is not being used. Electric motors are much more thermally efficient than a diesel or gasoline engine (meaning they produce less wasted energy in the form of heat) and therefore can typically be cooled with nothing more than the air around them - although certain high performance electric motors also use a water cooling system - though not usually one containing antifreeze. Lubrication is only needed in the bearings and since the motor does not get very hot, these are typically sealed and need no maintenance or oil changes. Finally, the exhaust system is gone because the electric motor does not produce any gasses that need to be vented.

So far, in a typical sailboat electric drive compared to the typical diesel, we’ve eliminated three major systems: cooling, oil, and exhaust. We’ve removed or simplified the transmission and reduced the heat generated by the motor (making it vastly more efficient - more on that shortly). The motors are also MUCH smaller and weigh MUCH less than an equivalent diesel, since there are no explosions taking place inside of them that need to be contained by large blocks of heavy steel or aluminum. On the flip side, we have a large and heavy battery bank in place of the (generally equally large and heavy - at least when full) fuel tank.

So let’s tally up the scorecard here:

Diesel Motors: Heavy for a given power output. Requires Oil, Coolant, and Exhaust systems and associated maintenance. Noisy. High vibration. Low thermal efficiency translates to high temperatures in engine room and wasted fuel.

Electric Motors: Lightweight for a given power output. No regular maintenance other than a quick cleaning and very occasional belt replacement, if equipped. Whisper quiet. Low vibration. Very high thermal efficiency translates to much cooler temperatures in engine room and very little wasted energy.

Weight and storage space of typical battery banks and fuel tanks roughly cancel.

If that were all there was to it, we’d all have electric motors in our boats (and cars, and maybe even planes) today! But there’s more to the story.

Gasoline and diesel fuel are some of the most efficient forms of storing energy we know of, from a weight and volume perspective. Nuclear fuel might be more efficient but that’s a bit out of the question on our scale here. Fossil fuels are, relatively speaking, safe to handle and easy to control. They are fast to refill, and available around the world, for the right price. But they have a serious problem: they are very finite and impossible to produce without tremendous effort and extremely complicated equipment.

Electric energy, on the other hand, has nearly the exact opposite situation. We store it - even to this day - in a nearly archaic and highly inefficient form of lead and sulphuric acid that dates to over 150 years ago (yes, lithium technology continues to tease us with its benefits, but it is still only just break-even from a cost perspective across a given lifespan if all goes perfectly well, and lithium is a horrifically environmentally devastating metal to retrieve and process). All batteries are comparably inefficient from a weight and volume perspective (and lithium is still volumetrically inefficient even if it is much lighter weight). Fortunately, electrical power is safer in many ways than liquid fuels, but it is not very fast to refill (ultracapacitors and other exotic technology notwithstanding). It is available nearly everywhere, for pretty darn close to free, and can be generated as long as the sun shines and the wind blows with very simple and reliable equipment that can be carried and repaired aboard even the most humble of sailing craft. You might think of electric power versus diesel as very analogous to the philosophical differences between sailors and powerboaters. In fact, that’s precisely the reasoning that makes me believe that eventually, all sailors will come to have electric auxiliary propulsion, and the rest will go buy powerboats. A guy can dream, can’t he?

But I’m getting ahead of myself. One of the major results of that combination of “slower refill” and “volume inefficiency” is this: a battery bank of equal size and weight to a tank of fuel will result in MUCH LESS RANGE. Particularly speaking, about an order of magnitude less, give or take. That means that for a given weight and space of fuel storage in your boat, where you could go 100 miles on diesel you can go 10 on electric power.³

… <crickets> …

Now that those of you who really should own powerboats have left (I should note that I am definitely not disparaging responsible and competent powerboating - let’s not go there), I can talk frankly and openly with the rest of us. You sail because you enjoy the peacefulness, because you appreciate the skill it takes, because there’s something special about the time you turn off the engine and feel the pull of the sails, am I right? For some of you, you never turned off the engine because you don’t even have one. Even moreso to you, my friend. Whatever the reason you sail, the fact that its NOT accompanied by a go-fast, get-there-now lifestyle and a noisy, roaring engine is a major factor. In fact, if we could draw an axis of two extremes, on one hand we would have the Cigarette boats with their high speeds and engines that require earplugs even at idle. On the other hand you’d have a sailboat with a well made, efficient, and seaworthy hull, a perfectly tuned rig, and no engine whatsoever. Most sailors with auxiliary diesels fall squarely in the middle on that line - a large, heavy, overly powerful engine on a moderately efficient hull with a sort-of-tuned rig. I’m sorry if I offended you. Actually, no, I’m not. I’m just speaking the truth, and sometimes its not nice. But I’m not sorry, its the truth. The point is, we sail TO SAIL. And we know all too well that the diesel is the antithesis of that.

Now, I’m not going all apeshit on the idea of auxiliary propulsion. No, no no. Sailors have for centuries, maybe even millennia, understood the benefit (and more than occasionally, the necessity) of an oar or two. Those of you who are still reading, who are true sailors at heart, and who are genuinely bummed about really needing and using the diesel in your boat - I feel your pain more acutely than you know, having been in your ranks not even two months ago. There is a very true utility to auxiliary propulsion, even to the most stalwart of sailing aficionados. The wind often dies JUST as you enter that narrow inlet with the outbound tide. Marinas pack hundreds of boats along channels so narrow that a full pivot is often only possible with the aid of an empty slip - and woe to the full keelers who find themselves facing a dead end in one of these with a foul wind and a rapidly shoaling bottom. No longer is it common to lay to anchor in a harbor and find the assist of scheduled transport to the shore a mile or more distant. I have heard rumor that even those who are well known in the cruising community for sailing without engines find themselves to require a tow into or out of harbor more frequently than even they would like to admit. So indeed, there is much utility in an auxiliary form of motive power; the question is: how to ensure that the auxiliary propulsion does not distract from the fundamental point of sailing? Yulohs aside, it is my firm belief that the electric motor has finally come of age as the practical answer to this question. But it took until the recent invention of certain efficient drive electronics and highly reliable and efficient all-weather industrial motors to get here.

Without going into excruciating detail, the gist of the modern story is this: electric motors have finally reached the level of reliability, ease of control, and intelligence of recharge that makes them a PERFECT fit for the ethos of the modern sailor, whether cruiser or daysailer. And perhaps most relevantly to why the time has finally come about, there are a variety of vendors whose sole specialty is the fitment of these systems inclusive of all necessities, and the subsequent support of such systems, such little as is needed from time to time. But the point remains: if range under power alone is your end-all, be-all metric for choosing between these systems, may I suggest a little too loudly that you sell your sailboat and buy a motor cruiser.

Let’s Bust Some Myths

This brings me to the crux of the discussion here. In order to really appreciate the enormous benefits of an electric drive, you must fully embrace the benefits of sailing, along with the pertinent requirements. This leads me to The List of Truths about sailing with electric propulsion, to counteract The Fear that so many people express in the various forms of the phrase: “I’d really like to switch but…” :

The List of Truths about Electric Propulsion

Range is overrated. Speed is overrated. As long as you have “enough”, you are fine. Enough on a sailboat is much, much different from enough on a powerboat. You’ve got to wrap your head around this if you are used to cranking up the iron genoa every time the wind dies or you want to “get there sooner”. However, a well designed electric system with wind or solar recharge CAN add a knot or two to your speed for hours or even days without needing to be topped off with a genset or a dock recharge. And the range on even the smallest electric setups is PLENTY to get in and out of a typical harbor, on and off a mooring or two, and even to hold your position against a storm wind off a lee shore long enough to set proper sail and/or reposition to lay to a storm anchor or drogue.

That lee shore is not going to be fought by a diesel any better than it is by your electric motor. If you’re in a survival situation where you think, from the safety of your armchair, that your diesel is the savior, you need to think again. Your sails will, time and again, get you better out of that situation than your engine which, in all likelihood has seized up from a clogged fuel filter and/or air getting in the fuel lines from the violent sloshing. An electric motor is vastly more reliable in these circumstances, but most importantly you sail without the expectation of the engine saving you, which makes you a better sailor - and in this type of situation, that’s what’s actually going to save your bacon (or keep it out of the frying pan in the first place).

Running out of power is not the stressful event it is with a fossil fuel engine. Instead of NEEDING to get to a place to refill, you have FAR more options. You can
- Wait until solar or wind power regenerates enough to move along.
- Start up a small gasoline generator to quickly provide some electric power (this is called a “series hybrid” and basically turns your sailboat into the equivalent of a Prius).
- Raise your sails or pitch out an anchor, whichever makes the most sense for your situation, like a Real Sailor^TM would.
Which of those required a call to Tow Boat US, hm?

Fixing problems is pretty dead simple. Instead of “drain the fluids, pull this part, check it, replace it, nope didn’t fix the problem try something else”, if it can’t be fixed handily with a multimeter (and if you’re the non-techy type, a quick phone call to the vendor), you KNOW exactly which part gets replaced and it fixes the problem nearly 100% of the time first time, the end. Bonus: you just freed up all the space in your spares locker and your oil/coolant locker for more storage purposes. Double bonus: your engine toolkit is now just a couple wrenches, two screwdrivers, and a multimeter. Oh, I have your attention again?

And finally, electric propulsion offers all of the needed benefits of auxiliary power while enforcing the requirement for a common level of seamanship as ought to rightfully be expected of any sailor. It eliminates the deplorable category of “sailors” who never raise a sail, motoring about all the while the covers rot in place on the boom. Yet it provides all the services much beloved to those of us stuck in dreadful marinas and backwater windless bayous who must thread a certain needle before being able to hoist glorious canvas and thrill to the wind in the rigging.

A Brief Discussion on Cost

*** It’s All About YOU, Baby. ***

The next article in this series

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Bob Dylan

a nice explanation

a more amusing diatribe on the same subject

POP 25 sailboat

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Mid-August Update 2011

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 18:33:08 +0000

Hello again my friends. Its been a crazy few weeks here and I didn’t want to leave you hanging too much longer. There are some really neat rumblings from the project bin for this month, some stuff I can’t write about just yet but soon it shall be revealed to you. Hang tight, some of this will be right up your “ooh hey, I want to try that too” alley, and I’ll show you a neat use for the soft shackle concept very shortly too.

Here’s a teaser for one of them:

The ideas and projects to complete before I head out are getting much more defined at this point. There’s always more I would like to get done, but reigning in the fascination with shiny things is necessary to actually getting out and putting a patina on Life itself, which is really the point of all this anyway. So some things will get done, some won’t, and I’m getting some solid clarity on what’s really needed and what is just a luxury I can either deal with later or don’t even really need to worry about. That said, I had a fantastic chat with Steven Roberts, of this month’s Site(s) of the Month fame, which inspired me to jot down a rather long-winded stream of thought about the current “Maker” movement and how it relates to us as a global society. Rather than sit on it for days and days trying hard to make it shorter, I’ll just share it with you as it is and get back to some very relevant problem solving and boat improvement!

This article has more “behind the jump” as they say, so to keep reading, click here!

Continue reading "Mid-August Update 2011"

Quick Links: Cabin Heat

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 12:58:40 +0000

I’m completely enchanted by this lovely little cast iron stove. Talk about perfect for off-grid living, no propane or diesel required! And best of all its designed for shipboard living - being an old northern fishing boat design it’s quite capable of being tossed about while in operation.

Courtesy Navigator Stove Works: http://www.marinestove.com
Andrew is the chap’s name, and he’s very knowledgable.

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On Refrigerators and Cold Beer

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Thu, 19 May 2011 14:19:00 +0000

Ah, refrigeration. If soap is the yardstick of civilization, refrigeration is a reference standard of the First World and all that connotes. And, like a First World mindset, refrigeration or the lack thereof evokes strong emotions when discussed by sailors. Many sailors, even modern-day long distance ones like Jessica Watson, eschew “the fridge” for its space consumption, energy demands, and perceived unreliability, being willing to put up with a lack of cold beverages and food as the price of simplicity and self-sufficiency. Others, particularly those from larger cities in the U.S. and increasingly Europe, view a refrigerator aboard a boat as an absolute necessity and fundamental human right, up there with pressurized hot water, daily showers, in-mast reefing, and powered winches. While I’ve been aware of these differing views, I’d not paid too much attention to the differing viewpoints; my mind had been made up for me in the form of a boat which fortuitously came with a working fridge. Little did I know how quickly this would change.

Queue The Introspection

A few days ago, after a thoroughly exhausting overnight regatta [in which my valiant crewmates and I utterly vanquished our faster and professionally-crewed opponents aboard more “modern” race craft], I returned to my full-keeled, slightly chubby but solid and faithful ketch-rigged cruiser to find that I had suddenly been transported to the Second World. Or maybe even the Third, depending on how close to Manhattan you take your survey.

In short, my fridge had completely died. Given up the ghost. Gone to Davy Jones’ Locker. Rode the final wave. You get the picture.

Let’s skip the troubleshooting I went through, the initial diagnosis, the attempts to revive said device, and even the final “I’ve done all I can let’s contact the pros” phone call. The latter of which, fortunately, ended up being to an honest guy who sold me straight without having to make a “boat call”. The upshot is that I am currently without a refrigeration device with which to ensure optimum beer drinkability. (I should note that the Prime Directive of all refrigerators — indeed their very raison d’être — is to keep beer at proper temperature. This temperature varies by culture but is nearly always cooler than typical spring, summer, and early autumn outdoor temperatures in most cruising zones. Hence the fridge. Freezers on the other hand are for two things: ice for mixed drinks, and ice cream — both of which are for keeping the ladies happy. Its simply fortuitous that I also happen to like ice cream and iced mixed beverages upon occasion.) And despite my efforts to temper my First World upbringing with the sensibility attained with my Third World humanitarian aid experiences, I began to view this as a Serious Problem. Maybe consuming all of the beer before it got warm had something to do with that. Of course, I could have just gone out and bought a 20-lb sack of ice, but after all that beer, it wasn’t the first thing that came to mind.

Upon waking up the next afternoon, and after considering the usual questions, those being “how much would it cost to get a replacement for my unit” ($1500 + labor), “how much are competing units” ($1000-$3000 depending on quality), and “how much of a pain is this going to be” (a lot), I began to regain my sanity and start thinking outside the box.

The question then became “do I even need a fridge”. And so I started diving into the subject, both conceptually and investigatorially. I thought about what I was giving up, what I was gaining, and what I wanted. I thought about cost, failure modes, and expectations. I thought about paying for convenience, sustainability, energy efficiency. The ideas of waste, manufacturing and shipping, raw material usage, and consumerism crossed my mind. And so, I started thinking about where the line was between getting a fridge and not getting one. If I were to get one, it would have to last for an extremely long time. It would have to be made of materials that were largely recyclable, minimize use of plastics, be exceptionally efficient, and provide maximum utility. In short, I wasn’t about to buy a cheap piece of crap, if I bought one at all, and it would have to show some kind of exceptional durability, re-use potential, and extreme energy efficiency to make the cut. If I was going to have a fridge, it would have to earn its keep.

Anatomy of a Boat Fridge

The usual boat fridge is essentially a cabinet, framed on the back side by the rounded shape of the hull, and on the other sides typically by marine plywood which forms both the fridge cabinet as well as serving as a bulkhead or a component of other interior woodwoork. Heavy insulation is applied to the inside of this cabinet - sometimes taking the form of fancy vacuum panels or aerogel inserts, and sometimes simple styrofoam board, cut and laid in by hand. The mechanism of refrigeration, that is to say the compressor, expansion and condenser coils, and thermostat control circuit, are separated into various components, with the evaporator (the “cold” coils) placed inside the cabinet¹ and the compressor and condenser (the “hot” coils”) placed outside the cabinet, usually in the engine compartment or some other remote location out of the way. When the unit runs, the evaporator coils in the cabinet get cold, often below freezing, and cool the air in the cabinet, as well as usually creating ice in specially designed trays attached directly to cold plates on the coils.

To put it more directly, the refrigerator is a complicated system that is built into the boat structure, connected by intricate piping, and insulated during the design and building phase of the actual boat’s interior. It is the exact opposite of the appliance which you find in a modern home, where the cabinet, insulation, and refrigeration mechanics are all integrated into one cohesively integral unit which can be transported and moved about at will. Boat owners like the “built-in” approach because it often provides the maximum refrigeration storage space. But what it does not provide is a well-matched refrigeration system and thoroughly optimized insulation - in short, its usually highly inefficient. Expensive boats with well-engineered refrigerators have fantastic efficiency - and well they should: a typical high-end “reefer” on such a boat often represents $3000 or more worth of investment. But the problem remains: when they break, and they will all break at some point, it usually means replacement of the entire mechanical system, which often requires serious carpentry. On my boat, though, the existing cabinet is so poorly insulated as to be nearly a joke - even in relatively mild 26.5 C (80F) weather my fridge compressor was working hard and consuming a lot of power to keep a cool temperature (power is in short supply on my boat when it is not at a dock, as it runs on batteries which are charged by solar or wind power). If I were to refit a new unit, regardless of its mechanical efficiency, the cabinet would need upgrading too.

And then, just as this project started looking enormously overwhelming, I was reminded of a concept that changed everything.

Enter the Mobile Fridge

I’d known about mobile refrigeration units since I was a teenager in the Boy Scouts. 4x4 camping, expeditions, and humanitarian aid projects often equipped themselves with vehicular refrigerators - highly efficient integrated units with DC power supplies, high-tech insulation, and modest but acceptable internal space. Hell, a lot of fellow sailors on smaller boats had them. I’d somehow never thought about them on a larger boat - namely “my boat” - because mine had a built in fridge. But while I was researching boat refrigeration, I stumbled upon an old post on Boat Bits that reminded me how sane of an idea it was. The kicker isn’t just efficiency, as important as that is, its long-term reliability. Boat fridge units are notoriously unreliable and inefficient, often requiring the engine to be run to generate enough power (or in extreme cases to even produce refrigeration power at all!). In the hotter climes its not uncommon for them to be breaking down within months of the last repair due to high duty cycles and thermal overload. But these mobile units were designed specifically for these harsher environments, with insulation and refrigeration mechanics well matched to each other and designed purposely to deliver 100% performance in blistering 43.5 C (110F) heat while consuming a very modest power draw suitable for solar or small vehicle power. The Boat Bits article specifically mentioned some Aussies who had excellent and highly reliable self-contained fridges aboard.² And I just so happened to have a fantastic magazine at hand which reviewed the most revered of these units worldwide: Overland Journal.

After reading the Overland Journal refrigeration reviews and doing a vast amount of online research, I’ve made my decision as to the unit I’m getting. Here’s a hint: it has both a fridge and a freezer compartment. Its pretty small but that is fine by me. And it consumes a running average of only 0.83 Amps at 12.6 volts in 32.8 C (91F) heat^{3, 4}. Ridiculously efficient, legendary reliability, and an installed base the world over.

But to find out exactly which unit, you’ll have to wait. There’s a cabinet to demolish and some carpentry work to do before my new fridge has a home. But trust me, when she’s in place, you’ll hear about it.

Footnotes:

¹ For you refrigeration geeks, I am deliberately simplifying the description and omitting discussion of cold plates, engine-driven refrigeration compressors, etc…

² In the same article, Bob at Boat Bits also mentioned a Stirling Cycle driven refrigerator made by Coleman and co-branded by Tropikool, but it seems as though that model isn’t available any longer. Available power data suggests that the fridge I am buying now is equal or more efficient in terms of power (though not in cost, sadly) and has similar expected longevity (e.g. it should outlive me).

³Doing the power calculations, that means that in a typical region of the world with only 4.2 average hours of peak sun per day, a 70W solar panel and decent storage battery can keep up with the fridge’s power needs.

A more thorough discussion on refrigeration and power consumption would take a full article or two, but here is a quick and dirty summary of the basic concepts. Let’s say a fridge benchmarks at 0.83 Amps average @ 12.6 V and 33 C (92 F). That equals 10.46 Watts average consumption, 24 hours a day. Solar panels are rated at peak power output under normal temperature, so they need to be derated to include the fact that hot days make them produce less power, as well as the fact that during the day the sun is not always shining at maximum brightness. To compensate for the first is a bit complex, but a typical derating of 10% for higher temperatures is usually a good rule of thumb, and 20% can be used in extreme situations. To compensate for the amount of actual sun you get in a given region is also complicated but typical values for a given region can be found. For instance, a broad portion of the US in the midwest and southeast gets 4.2 equivalent peak hours of sunlight per day, which is another way of saying that if you add up all the sunlight you get from sunup to sundown it approximately equals 4.2 hours of direct overhead noontime sunlight, which is what your panel is generally rated at. Putting these values together gives us 0.83 A x 24 hours = 19.94 Ah total use during the day. 19.94 Ah / 4.2 peak hours = 4.74 peak amps the solar panel will need to produce. 4.74 A x 12.6 Volts = 59.82 peak watts the panel will need to produce, at minimum. Factoring in a 10% derating gives us 66.5W, call it 70W to take care of some other small inefficiencies. That will handle this fridge in typical heat throughout a day. Remember, though the fridge is rated at 91F, a blistering hot day is usually still significantly cooler at night when the solar panel is not producing any power. The averaging of the power draw versus the solar power production means that even in extreme cases, a significant increase in panel power is not necessarily required. In fact, even in an area with extensive cloud cover and rainfall, factors which reduce the panel’s power production, much more than a doubling of panel capacity (along with a suitable storage battery) is not needed as the temperatures are also reduced when the cloud cover and rain are present, reducing the fridge’s demand on the power supply commensurate with the reduction in power production. Again, these are oversimplifications, but they are suitable for beginning calculations and introducing the basic concepts in self-sufficient refrigeration and power generations. Technologies such as these are critical in introducing both the luxury and life-saving abilities of refrigeration to remote communities without solid infrastructure, and reliable and well engineered equipment is, in the long run, more affordable and less wasteful of resources.

⁴ I happen to (currently) have 2x135W solar panels, or nearly 4x the average estimated need for this fridge. I powered that much up because it was only 2x what my last fridge drew. That’s how serious the difference in efficiency is here.

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A Brief Digression on Productivity

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 15:06:44 +0000

I’ll be honest: I’m a productivity nerd. I’m still very much at the beginning of this life-long process, but I absolutely love the idea that with a little careful thought ahead of time we can get so much more of what we want accomplished.

It’s interesting how often people ask how I do all the various projects I’m involved in. I don’t think my personal accomplishments are particularly impressive, but people keep asking so something must be noticeably different from the average. Truthfully, I enjoy what I do. But there is a method to the madness - a process that ensures that I will be continuously taking steps toward my goal. And technically, I just gave it away - the real secret is in continuously taking steps, no matter how small, towards your goals. But the process is a little more complicated. Today, I’ll touch on the first step. Next week, we’ll talk more.

The Most Important Step

Those of you well on your way to making your own dream into reality already know that this is actually the most important part: have a clearly defined goal. For the rest of you, I know you’re thinking “but I already have a goal. My goal is to ____________ .” But stop right there and think about how you phrased your goal. Does it involve how you feel more than what you’re doing? Does it involve a scene (e.g. “on the beach”) rather than a specific place (e.g. “cruising the South Pacific islands.”)? Does it involve “someday” rather than “in two years”?

I thought so. You see, without concrete goals, you can’t measure your progress.

As an adjunct, allow me to state unequivocally that you will never have “enough money” for anything. There is no such thing. Don’t use the concept of “when I have enough money, I will do (xyz)”. You won’t ever get there. Instead, figure out what it will actually take to do it, whether that’s a specific amount of money ($800 for flight costs, $500 for hotel, etc), time (days off from work, spring break, etc), or skills (speaking French, being able to play a specific song, whatever). Note that “opportunity” doesn’t factor in that list. That’s because I don’t believe you should ever wait for opportunity. You prepare for opportunities. You make opportunities. You don’t wait for them. Because if you haven’t prepared for them, if you haven’t set the steps in process for them to be created, you won’t ever get them. Even if one miraculously presented itself nevertheless, you still wouldn’t be able to capitalize on it anyway. Opportunities happen around you all the time. You’re just not in the place to take advantage of them.

So let’s try that whole goal thing again. Sit down, grab a sheet of paper, and clear away all of your distractions. Turn off the cell phone, close your door (and your laptop), and light some incense or a candle if that’s your thing. Now, think about what you actually want to do with your life. Your ideas can be long range (live aboard a sailing boat, cruising the south pacific, in five years), they can be short range (fly to Corsica for the Calvi on the Rocks Festival), but what matters is that you make them as specific as possible, and set a timeframe for them. This is round one of goal setting.

Before you’re done, let’s set one other goal. This one is very short range: within the next week. Pick a day, pick an hour or two, and pick a location that will require you to go a little out of your way, to break your patterns. I usually pick some place I really like but for whatever reason I don’t go very often - like a local park or a particular stretch of coastline. Set yourself a personal date to go to that location and spend some more time with yourself. You’re going to start deciding the way your life will go rather than accepting whatever happens. So when you’re there with yourself on that personal date, think a little more about what you really want to do or become in the next year, three years, five years. Give yourself measurable goals, ones you not only believe deep down you can accomplish but also the kind that come from the part of you inside that really enjoys life and gets all excited about it.

Now let yourself get all excited about it.

You’re going to get there.

(For some more ideas on brainstorming and focusing your personal goals, Chris Guillebeau at “The Art of Non-Conformity” has a great article on conducting your own annual review which I highly recommend.)

Living Two Lives

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Fri, 18 Mar 2011 14:46:12 +0000

Ever felt like you were more than one person, shoved into the same life as the other people you also were? Strange, I know, but that’s how it feels sometimes, living with one foot on land and one on the boat. While I genuinely enjoy the dichotomy, and love coming “home” to my boat, I do wish that I could more firmly commit to the aquatic life - it would be much more efficient. And it’s in this inefficiency that I am reminded most acutely of my multiple-life-same-body situation.

It goes something like this: Wake up, feel the breeze from the open hatch over my berth. It’s still dark outside, and the boat is rocking quietly. I check the day’s weather (to see if I should close the hatches or not), shower at the marina, dress back onboard my boat, grab my briefcase, and head out the door.

*flash*

I’m driving in rush hour traffic, in a very large and busy city. I park in a huge parking garage in the middle of downtown, walk three blocks to my office, and take the elevator like everyone else. Fortunately my desk has a window next to it, but all I can see is concrete for the next eight to ten hours. Walk back to the truck, sit in traffic for another hour.

*flash*

Blurry haze of two overlapping lives - an impeccably dressed businessman boarding a boat set up for cruising and distance sailing but filled with the clutter of liveaboard activity. Dress shoes briefly meet worn nonskid - fortunately the leather soles don’t mark it.

*flash*

After a change of clothes and the day’s assigned boat work, I’m now in more comfortable boat attire. Drinking a cold beverage and sitting in my cockpit, I look out at the water as the sun sets peacefully in the distance.

The lives are so different that my head still spins for a minute after I get home and wonder “what the hell happened”?

But then I tell myself the day that I sell the vehicle, stash the dress clothes, and slim down the boat’s accoutrements for a lighter weight lifestyle is coming very soon. Until then, though, this schizophrenia serves as a reminder to make continual, unrelenting progress towards my goals - an impetus for one step forward every day.

Dockboxes, metaphors, and philosophical ruminations

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Sun, 06 Feb 2011 21:20:11 +0000

So, land-affiliated sailors (as I am currently, as opposed to those entirely at sea or anchor, not docking for any longer than to check in or out of a country) often have these things called “dock boxes” or “dock lockers” on their particular pier or, if they are a trailer-sailor type, often on the trailer itself. To you landlubbers out there, its exactly what the name implies (for once): a box that sits on the dock or remains at the dock. Personally, I just call it a dockbox.

A dockbox is supposed to hold the types of things one doesn’t need ON the boat but needs to tend the boat at the dock. So a dockbox may contain deck soap, spare fenders, some spare dock lines, a hose to wash the boat down with, etc. In practice, though, the dock box ends up containing all manner of flotsam and jetsam: the odds and ends that accumulate as clutter for some reason or another — inevitably, “this might come in handy later” is the most frequent culprit. Thus, for one reason or another, the dockbox becomes a sort of ‘sailor’s garage’, a compilation of stuff that increases seemingly without effort, yet consists nearly completely of items utterly devoid of actual utility.

This is all hidden by a nice, clean, usually white exterior, belying the extravagant mess within.

When it comes time to leave a marina, either for the freedom of the sea herself, or for the confines of another berth; or whenever the constraints of space dictate; the dockbox must be emptied. As most sailors find to their chagrin, what was anticipated as a quick endeavour becomes a day long nightmare of re-deliberation. “Hmmm, I might really seriously need this nearly through-rusted bit of anchor chain one day, won’t I?” “This busted and UV degraded vinyl footpump for the dinghy? Totally worth the full cubic foot of space, all I need to do is put some tape on the bellows and it’ll work in a pinch.”

So there I was, pondering similar ruminations, when a flash of comparative mental gymnastics hit me and I immediately did 42 backflips down the entire dock. (In my mind. I said they were mental gymnastics.) The dockbox is a tremendously useful metaphor*. In fact, it is precisely the physical representation of what we do mentally ALL THE TIME. We store thoughts such as “I should learn French … someday.” “The truck needs brakes… soon.” “I need to finish the trim on the Gibberjabber**… when I get a Round Tuit.” Ok that last one was completely fictitious. Although someday someone might legitimately think that.

The point is that we all have a mental dockbox. Its full of the things we “intend” to do. The things we “plan” to do. The things we are not actively putting any effort into doing because we CHOOSE not to. Yes, its an active choice. Yes, we have a zillion and one things distracting us from making that choice. So we put it off. Into our mental dockbox. Where it takes up mental space, brings up legitimate indecision and regret each and every time we take it out, examine it, and decide to return it to the dockbox. And there it sits.

Its the difficult, harder-than-it-seems task of cleaning out that mental clutter that can give us so much of ourselves back. Its essential to our mental freedom, or even just a relocation of perspective. All of our ‘coulda woulda shouldas’ that are stuffed in there drag us down unconsciously and give us a constant sense of futility, invalidity, or even just plain fear and a sense of failure.

So, with that in mind, I hereby declare two things:

I’m beginning a sort of “meme” on this blog, the ‘dockbox meme’. If I have something to get off my chest, some random unrelated bit of information I want to share, or just something that doesn’t belong anywhere else, it goes in a “dockbox” post. This post is a semi-recursive, semi-autological example.

Dockbox Days are now officially implemented. You can pick any day of the week you want (I typically choose Sunday) to clear out your mental dockbox. Take some time for yourself and seriously start unpacking those thoughts in the back of your head. The fears about your abilities or inabilities. The desires you hope to accomplish someday but are either unable, afraid, or for whatever reason choosing not to pursue right now. Write them all down, the good, the bad, and the ugly. And then clean them up. Accept that they are your dockbox items, that they don’t define you or own you, and that whether or not they are good, bad or ugly, its only your choice that keeps them there, and you have the freedom at any time to jettison that feeling and move on with your life the way it is, rather than the way someone (yourself included) tells you it should be. Also, I encourage you to declare almost any random day of the week a dockbox day, as needed. Its a great excuse to go hole up in a local coffee shop (leave the computer at home!) or on a local nature path or even just ramble on by the waterside and journal, sketch, unwind your mind. I highly recommend it.

For some great insight on mental cleaning, focus, and getting to know yourself better, check out Havi Brooks over at The Fluent Self. She’s kooky, wacky, insane, and soulfully honest. And whatever her struggle is, whether its to work on herself, help others, or just explore life, she lets it waay out in the open. As for ‘insane’… well if you think I’m sane then you need your head examined too. And, her business partner is a duck. Instant connection to the water, there, folks, just in case you were losing your head wondering when I was going to bring this back to marine life. Actually I’m sure none of you were.

Seriously, though, her post on “The book of You” (http://www.fluentself.com/blog/stuckification/the-book-of-you/) is a great place to start, as her stuff is kind of in a stream-of-consciousness flow rather than an ordered presentation. Really, if you see a link that interests you, click it. It’ll probably be interesting. After you read a few links on her site, you’ll know pretty quickly what the big picture is and if it works for you (parts of it do for me. Other parts not so much). Either way, it’ll be an interesting ride through a whimsical soul’s haphazardly fascinating mind.

So, those are my thoughts for today. Dockboxes. The cleaning of them, and the mental metaphors they generate. Joining me for a little mental cleaning?

Wacky thought for the day: if you’ve got fruitflies, you’ve got fruit. Stop complaining and enjoy the fruit.

=====

*I find it amusing that if an “aphorism”, that is, a statement containing a truth, has at its root the Greek word for “definition” (aphorizein), then by a simple phonetic similarity, a metaphor is a “meta-definition”, in other words a definition removed by one degree from its literal context. Which pretty much describes what a metaphor actually is, in more technical terms: a definition of a situation by using a comparison to something else that has similar characteristics. Even if ‘metaphor’ is supposedly properly derived from the Greek word “metapherein”, meaning “to transfer” and my little schtick here is based entirely on inaccurate interpretation of phonetic similarity, its still interesting that such a simple transference of prefix (meta-phor to meta-aphor) gives a fictitious but entirely believable etymology. I have no idea why I’m sharing this with you but its my blog and this is the dockbox. Anything goes.

**Come to think of it, Gibberjabber (Jibber Jabber?) might make a great name for a sailing dinghy. If you like the A-Team, Mr. T in specific, or jabbing jibs.

We're headed to PC!

nospam@example.com (Lauren) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 13:59:00 +0000

I cannot believe that it is August already! The past several months have flown by, filled with constant learning and new experiences. It was several weeks ago when Daniel and I were last in Florida. We had originally gone down to Carrabelle, FL to complete a deal on a 41’ Formosa Ketch Sea Tiger. Our purchase was of course contingent on the survey, and unfortunately, the survey revealed some things to Daniel and I that we are not prepared to deal with, at least not this early in our boating lives. With great disappointment, Daniel and I decided to turn a less than ideal situation into an opportunity for experience and boat education.
We drove to Panama City, about two hours west along the Gulf and met with a broker from PC Yachts. David, the broker, was and has continued to be more than helpful providing Daniel and I with some honest advice about the boat buying process. First, he took us to see a 39’ Catalina. She was in pretty good shape with lots of desirable features: shower already installed, roomy salon, lots of head room, large cockpit, nice kitchen… But, she didn’t feel like home. We valued the visit, however, because every boat Daniel and I can see is another boat we have a chance to practice inspecting. Appreciative, though not overjoyed, Daniel and I were taken to see a 36’ Allied Princess. Driving over the bridge, we saw her, majestically distinctive in the slip. As Daniel and I stepped on board with a scrutinizing eye, we again felt excitement filling our hearts. “Princess” the Allied Princess, is simply beautiful. Her layout is roomy, especially for a 36’ boat. She has been meticulously taken care of, really only in need of some cosmetic paint, etc. Daniel, as an electrical engineer, was particularly impressed with the electronic wiring. This is a huge complement to the boat owner. Daniel knows his stuff!
Today, Daniel and I are driving down to Panama City to have “Princess” surveyed. We have a contract on her, and our fingers are crossed that we will have a positive review from the surveyor. We are very hopeful that this weekend will confirm what he and I both believe— “Princess” is our boat. Keep us in your thoughts this weekend. I expect that I will have some news to report soon!

Much love,
Lauren and Daniel

Try it again, sam!

nospam@example.com (Admin) — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 21:55:42 +0000

We’ve been doing a LOT of research, investigation, and searching, as well as picking the brains of some good friends of ours (shout out to Bruce and Connie on Te Oigo!).

As we approach this upcoming weekend, we are making plans to survey another ship, this time in Panama City. We’ll give you some more information soon, but right now we are trying not to get our hopes up too high. In addition, the process of surveying a ship costs a lot of money so we are learning to be ever more careful to inspect the ships ourselves (and what to look for when doing so) beforehand. For those of you unfamiliar with nautical customs, the survey is paid for by the buyer and is akin to a home inspection and an appraisal, all in one process. The ship is completely looked over by a (hopefully very experienced and capable) professional surveyor. The hull and decks are checked for moisture ingress (a bad thing, you don’t want to find any), and all rigging is inspected. Then the ship is hauled out of the water and her propeller, hull condition, keel, rudder, through-hulls (the ports to let seawater in the ship for various purposes and to let waste and bilge water out), and other underwater fittings are fully checked. After this all-day process, the surveyor then writes up the complete state of the vessel, both good and bad, and makes a list of recommendations for what needs to be fixed on her. He also provides a professional valuation of the ship compared to other ships of her type, size, and/or capability in the market. This valuation is accepted for loan and insurance purposes, and is a basis for determining an offer as it provides a neutral ‘fair value’ for the ship.

Typically a lot of things that are “not good” are found during this process, and its up to the buyer to determine if they are dealbreakers (deck core damage, for instance), cause for negotiation of price (needs a bottom repaint), or just nitpicky items that are not necessarily a negative thing (a rubber hose due for replacement on an otherwise perfectly fine engine).

So, this is what we are arranging for this weekend. Of course, we are hopeful she will be “the one” but if not, we look forward to visiting other ships!