Windlass in my hand luggage
Owen Moorhouse basks in the glow of his new foredeck helpers
Astrong southerly gale sent me for shelter on the northern side of Dangar Island in the Hawkesbury River, NSW Australia. Sandpiper, my Roberts 38 sloop, was equipped with 160ft of chain and a 35lb plough anchor, activated by a stiff manual winch.
I’m a single-hander (and octogenarian) and when time came to lift the anchor – one stroke at a time in a 3-knot current – my attention was drawn to the sticky mud the chain was bringing up with it.
As the anchor broke free, Sandpiper was propelled by the current among other moored vessels, requiring my presence at the wheel. I’d already experienced a flooded forward cabin on a previous occasion when mud carried from the anchor chain into the locker blocked the drain. On that occasion, with the help of a heavy headwind heading into Bass Strait, water found its way down the spurling pipe and into the adjoining cabin.
There was no doubting an electric winch and wash down pump were required, but the complicated retrofit left me dithering. It was a monumental undertaking that involved concealing the wiring and delivery line in the boat’s interior.
Crazy duties
Then an ad in Practical Boat Owner suggested I could buy a suitable Australian windlass abroad for about one-third the local price after deducting the VAT, but I knew I still had to add freight. Perhaps distribution agreements prevented the UK supplier from giving me a quotation, but as I have family living in Turkey, I asked my son-in-law to request a price. After all, I was planning a visit and an extra 20lb in my luggage home seemed feasible.
To my amazement, he found a chandler in Bodrum who could supply at almost half the Australian price, plus $3 for courier delivery to his door. It was the exact same model, with remote control and the promise of a VAT refund on departure from Turkey. I could hardly wait to pack it in my luggage and carry it home to Sydney.
Purchasing a wash-down pump was no problem. I ordered an agriculturalindustry diaphragm pump on the internet, at a fraction of the local chandler’s price. My plan was to mount the wash-down pump in the engine compartment, adjacent to the battery bank. I planned to use the engine’s raw water intake to supply it, and drill and tap it to the engine bed.
The winch fitment wasn't as simple, as eight bulkheads had to be drilled to carry both the heavy-duty wiring and the wash-down delivery line forward to the pulpit winch mounting. I ultimately achieved both by hiding them through lockers and settee bunks but needed a false bulkhead to hide them in the forward cabin. This was particularly challenging as I was unwilling to broach the chain-locker and risk another seawater leak, as had previously been so devastating during that heavy crossing in Bass Strait.
A false wood-veneer bulkhead was beyond my carpentry skills and while I fitted the battens to clear the wiring and delivery line, a shipwright fitted the rosewood panel. I’m very pleased with the result.
My brother (also in his 80s) then assisted me with the heavy wiring, while a fellow yachtie vetted my final solenoid solution and overload protection, hidden in the binnacle.
One minor snag
Unfortunately, the old manual winch had an anchor chain incompatible with the new electric one. With no alternate gypsies available, the only solution was to purchase 160ft of galvanised chain, which negated part of my savings on the purchase of the winch. But then had I opted to purchase the winch locally, I’d have still needed a new chain.
The process from start to finish was a lengthy one and an anchor winch in my hand luggage took some explaining at airport security.
I reasoned with the perplexed officer that for a sailor, an anchor winch was nothing more than legitimate sporting gear.
Nowadays I leisurely lift the anchor using remote control and wash down the rising chain with ease. There’s also a hose on deck as required. I’m feeling chuffed with my solution and in my 89th year I’m still revelling in the luxury of it all!