In the space of a day things went, quite literally, to shit.

Monday was the first day of our week-long cruise on the Sea of Cortez, and it started and ended at the San Carlos Marina.

After spending two days working on the boat, we were anxious to head out. Marty was a little concerned about the auto pilot, which we couldn’t get to engage at the dock. More significantly, there was a drip coming from the shaft seal, which keeps water from getting into the boat around the propeller shaft.

Marty called the boat’s previous owner, Marvin, who assured him that the auto pilot had been repaired as discussed before we bought the boat, and would work once we got underway. Marvin also said the drip had happened before but stopped after a few hours of running the engine. Reluctantly, Marty set aside his nagging doubts.

We headed out of Bahia San Carlos onto the Sea of Cortez, excited about our first trip in the new boat. Sunlight sparkled on the water as we sailed by white sandy beaches and rocky hills dotted with cacti.

But before long, we discovered a problem. The manual bilge pump, which was working before we left, suddenly wasn’t. And the electric bilge pump seemed to be sucking up the inch of water in the bilge and then spitting it out, suggesting that there just wasn’t enough water in the bilge for it to work properly. At least, we hoped that’s all it was.

In a little less than three hours we arrived at our first night’s destination, Bahia San Pedro, a beautiful, crescent-shaped cove with a beach. Aside from a group of fishermen camped on the shore, the bay was completely empty.

We set the anchor easily in the bay’s sandy bottom, then I went below to get some sunscreen. We’d been using only the head off the salon, but I’d stored my toiletries in the larger forward head. I opened the door and smelled a foul odor, a blend of raw sewage and rotten socks. I opened the toilet lid and to my horror, found the bowl filled with a green-brown liquid reaching almost to the top. A few more inches and it would overflow.

In our haste to leave San Carlos, we’d forgotten to check the toilet’s holding tank, which turned out to be much smaller than we’d realized and so full it was bulging. Marty tried pumping it out with both the boat’s electric macerator pump, but after groaning a few seconds, the pump shut down.

Later, Marty would discover that the holding tank’s air vent was clogged and there was so much pressure on the system that the macerator (nice mental image) wouldn’t work. In the meantime, with each pump of the head, the holding tank bulged more ominously. It was a massive shitbomb waiting to blow, and I had the trigger in my hand.

There was no way we could use the toilet, and not knowing for certain if we could rely on the bilge pump, there was only one thing to do—head back to San Carlos. At that moment, I started wondering what the hell we’d gotten ourselves into. What other unforeseen problems might our new boat have?

Sunset on the Sea of Cortez.

By the time we got about a mile out from San Carlos, it was dark. Entering Bahia San Carlos is tricky even in daylight; the entrance is difficult to spot and the shoreline is scattered with rocks and reefs. I stood on the bow to keep a look out while Marty inched the boat slowly into the bay. It was so dark I could barely see the boats anchored out until we were almost upon them.

A few nervewracking minutes later, we were safely moored back in our slip and hit the hay, exhausted and stressed. The next morning, Marty set about the nasty business of fixing the toilet, unclogging the vent hose and pumping several buckets full of reeking liquid out of the tank.

We called Salvador the electrician, who had supposedly fixed the auto-pilot, and arranged for him to come by the next morning. But there was still the issue of the shaft seal. The drip might be no big deal, and we’d planned to replace the seal when the boat gets to Seattle. But if the seal failed or broke in the meantime, water would come gushing in and the boat would sink within about 10 minutes.

We agreed to call the company that made the shaft seal and ask their advice, and then make a decision about whether to head out on the water again. Marty reassured me that the boat problems were relatively minor, caused more by lack of use than anything seriously wrong.

Dirty work: Marty troubleshooting on the holding tank.

Given the time it would take to get the various boat issues straightened out, the most we could hope for is a few days of cruising on the Sea of Cortez. Worst-case scenario, we’d spend the remainder of our vacation at the marina.

The prospect was disappointing, but I tried to look on the bright side. The weather was gorgeous. We were still on vacation. We had a fully stocked fridge and more than enough rum and beer. The boat hadn’t sunk.

Owning a boat, I’ve learned, is an exercise in patience, problem-solving and flexibility. A boat is a complex, self-sustaining universe in which myriad things can go wrong at any time. Plans can change at a moment’s notice. You better roll with it or you’ll be constantly frazzled. Boat ownership is not for the weak of heart.

In retrospect, it was probably a little unrealistic to think we could step onboard a new boat, one that hadn’t been used in a few years, and within a couple of days have it ready for a week of cruising. As Marty pointed out, he’d routinely spend four or five days readying our previous boat, Camelot, before we headed out on longer cruises. And that was a boat he knew inside out.

We spent last night at the dock, drinking cocktails in our lovely new cockpit (perfect for napping, I’ve discovered), listening to music and watching fish jump around the boats in the marina. Tonight, we’ll grill some dinner and enjoy our boat, which is slowly starting to feel more like ours.

It could be worse, I know. We could be in rainy Seattle.

About Deborah Bach

Deborah Bach is the editor and co-founder of Three Sheets Northwest. She is an avid sailor and long-time professional journalist. You can find Deborah aboard Three Sheets, an Island Packet 38, with her husband Marty and their cat Lily.

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