Whisky Golf

We know folks are perched on the edge of their seats waiting for an update on the toilet debacle. So here is your update: zero progress.

The problem is that Jabsco toilet engineers, in their infinite wisdom, attached the pump to the base with screws that are short. They barely penetrate the screw holes, so the screws strip out with very little pressure. Jeff did some research and found a few ideas for bringing stripped screw holes back to life, including: jamming toothpicks into the screw holes, or wrapping the screws with electrical tape. So far none of the ideas have worked. 

I tried filling the screw holes with adhesive, hoping to drill out new holes, but the adhesives I have on board don't bond well with the plastic they're using for some reason. I guess if I was an adhesive I wouldn't want to bond with poop pump plastic either.

Well it turns out dealing with stripped out toilet screw holes is a common problem. Who knew? Gemini even referred to it as a DIY right of passage. Is that AI humor?  

Anyway, the recommendation is to go to the big marine chandlery in Campbell River and buy a size larger self tapping screw. I think we'll try that and if it works we'll keep the part I ordered as a spare. In the mean time we are the bucket brigade.

I'll close this post with a short story that's got nothing to do with toilets. Eight years or so ago I was researching a route up the Strait of Georgia and read about the military exercise area WG, commonly known as Whisky Golf. According to the source, a respected cruising guide, it was necessary to avoid the area by traveling within a given distance of some islands, but that it wasn't necessary to go around the islands. On that trip, the exercise area happened to be active, so I dutifully followed the prescribed course and was contacted by radio and told to turn around immediately or I would be escorted out out the area. It is necessary to go around the islands I was told. Fair enough. The guide book was wrong it seems. 

I've respected that rule ever since. Area active, go around the islands.

Fast forward eight years. Quijote and crew are merrily heading north to make our cut around the islands, when the radio comes to life. "Quijote, Quijote, Quijote: turn around immediately. You are in violation of an active military area. You must turn south. " Wha...??? We weren't in WG. I didn't want to go south. How were we supposed to get to Campbell River?

I turned around and called the military on their working channel. It turns out with all the technology at their disposal and with Quijote transmitting clear position coordinates, they screwed up and mistook us for another boat. So, we turned around again and proceeded on our way north and around the islands.

Our anchorage last night was lovely. We were the only boat in a quiet cove with seals frolicking nearby. We dinghied to shore and scrambled up through the woods to a bench with sweeping views and watched the sun settle toward the horizon. It was wonderful to be so carefree for the moment.

A new part has been ordered for the toilet and should arrive in Campbell River before we do. 🤞