Motoring northward I could smell a little diesel exhaust below decks. I don’t think it’s as dangerous as regular (gasoline) exhaust, but I’d hate to come off watch and nbot be able to wake any of the crew. We have a Carbon Monoxide detector, and it’s never gone off on us, but still I wanted to find out where that leak was at. This, then, was going to be my mission at Asuncion.
Asuncion, Baja Mexico. yes, it IS that exciting.
Nils and I used the old “soapy water” trick to find where the exhaust was coming from. The culprit turned out to be the mixing elbow. This sheet metal part is attached to the output of the supercharger. Exhaust enters, and the raw cooling water as well, after it goes through the engine and takes away the excess heat. Both then pass into a big black can, up an anti-siphon loop, and out to the stern of the boat. There are several right angle pipey-things that a water hose and an exhaust hose get clamped to, and corosion had eaten a few holes in the crevises. Hot exhaust gas and hot sea water make for a mix that must be pretty hostile to mere iron.
Mr. Mechanico working on the diesel engine.
After a few hours of work, we managed to break off one bolt, but couldn’t free another. I decided to go into town and call in the local “mechanico” experts. They used a propane torch to heat things up, and managed to remove the elbow only by removing the entire supercharger. But they got it out! Returning these two brave mechanicos in the dinghy to the beach, I managed to soak them so well that I killed their cell phone, and both had to change before continuing. Next we went to their shop. I’m always amazed at how much these folks can do with so few modern tools. A bench vice, and grinder. A propane torch. Some wrenches, and a big can of nuts/bolts and studs. Lot’s of elbow grease. Soon the mixing elbow was separated from the supercharger, at the cost of one more broken stud. But more torch, then water, then torch, and twist, and the studs came out, and the big plastic jar had new (gasp!) studs that fit!
The bench grinder with a wire brush removed the corosion and exposed the crack. The torch used this time with a brazing rod laid metal along the break. Unfortunately the end result did not pass inspection, so it was taken across town to the man with the oxy-aceteline torch, to be re-heated, and re-brazed. Then it was all reasembled, and these brave (foolish?) guys risked the dinghy-ride of death to return to the Sea Bear.
It still leaked. We took it out and returned to the welders. Twice. The third time the metal was so beat up by the heat that I gave in, and we patched it with a high temperature epoxy that one of the mechanicos had in his tool kit. It still leaked, but not as badly. The total price was one thousand peso, about $83. But this town doesn’t have an ATM, or bank, so I got to go find one.
Local info was that it was about an hour to the town with the ATM. I figured, rough roaads and all that was 40 – 50 kilometers, say 30 miles worst case. I’ve hitch hiked lots farther. So I kissed the wifey, grabbed my credit card, and started hiking out of town.
23 kilometers later, I was still walking. This was a real desert. The few cars that passed did not seem to be interested in picking up an old gringo. One car finally did stop, to explain that they were foll up, but that I should take a bottle of water from them. The mile markers were counting down and I was at about marker 33. What I didn’t know, was that zero was not town, but a crossroad.
- Looking back to town
Finally a nice man stopped and gave me a ride. He said he was going up to Turtle Bay, but if I was still on the road when he came back in 4 hours, he’d take me into town. Town was another 70 kilometers. I had blisters on both feet that were truly impressive, and when I got out of his car I could stand, but not really walk. So I stood and waited for a car. And waited.
Eventually a friend of the mechanico I used on the boat passed by, and gave me a lift the rest of the way into town. There we passed a buddy of his who’s car was broke down, so he gestured for me to get into yet another friends truck. I don’t know what their original plan was, but this new friend, named Jesus, took me to the bank, then turned around and took me all the way back to Asuncion. During the three hour ride back he explained that everyone from Asuncion knows everyone else in Asuncion, and they stick together when in the city. I’m impressed that that kind of community still exists today, but it really shouldn’t surprise me.
Anyway, the mechanicos, and welders got paid. I made it back to the Sea Bear with sore feet, but it could have been lots worse. I promised JC never to go across a desert again without water. And I mean it.
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