The Bilge Bitch

First, I should clean up the definition of "Bilge" I gave you in our glossary of boating terms back in March.  I inadvertently said it was the engine room of the boat.  In fact, the bilge is not limited to the engine room, but consists of many compartments under the floor, down in the depths of the hull, throughout the boat.

Second, the term "Bilge Bitch" is yet another persona of my lovely bride.  And, dear readers, I am NOT the one who came up with that name for her (I like the idea of remaining alive), she, herself did. 

Now, water in your bilge is NEVER a good thing.  At worst, it could mean you are sinking.  At best, it means something is leaking.  This could be anything from a water line, a drain line, a pump, a shaft seal, a waste line (everyone’s favorite!) or rain water from above deck.  If left unchecked, even the tiniest drip of water into the bilge becomes scummy and can create an odor problem.  And, my bride has a very sensitive sense of smell.  When we were buying a boat for the loop, she immediately nixed a few boats because of the odor only she could smell.  Most women get on a boat and look at the galley and the accommodations.  Not the Bilge Bitch; she starts removing floorboards and hatches to see where that smell is coming from.  Ya gotta love her!

It’s interesting how in any relationship certain responsibilities are assumed by one or the other of you.  As you get a little older, you realize, “That’s nice, if she (or he) is going to worry that to death, then I don’t have to”.  So sure, I look for any major water when I’m down there, but, I don’t sweat the small stuff, because I know, sooner or later, she’ll be on it.  And, today she was.

In verifying we had not punched a hole in our hull on our second encounter with the rocks of the bay (I’m still not ready to talk about it), the Admiral discovered a small amount of scummy water in our center bilge.  The Bilge Bitch went into action, climbing down today to investigate. 

The Bilge Bitch...smiling...this is fun for her!

There is not enough room in that particular spot for both of us, so I lay on the floor above with my head stuck down the hatch, explaining what hoses were what as she hunted around for the leaky culprit.  Once she had it narrowed down, I donned my knee pads and took her place.  The water seemed to be slowly dripping through a vent connection at the engine room exhaust blower…weird.  Turned out there must not be a drip loop in the line where it exhausts through a vent on our side deck stairs, so any wash down of the stairs dumps a little water into the fan, which had burned up and which dumped about a half of gallon of water on me when I disconnected and removed it.

Collateral damage...a burned up engine room exhaust fan

So we had a productive morning here in Little Current.  The Admiral is happy again that we have found the source of the water, although she won’t be completely content until the vent is redone, the fan is replaced and she can totally wipe that bilge dry. 

Yes, boating, and marriage, is fun…