Violent Engine Shake

Nothing galvanizes the adrenaline at sea like a sudden change in sound and motion. We were approximately 600 miles due east of the Bahamas motorsailing in very light winds. It was late afternoon. Suddenly the engine started shaking violently.

We shifted to neutral and then to reverse and then tried again to move into forward. The shaking intensified. It felt like the motor had broken loose from its mounts and/or the propellor shaft was wobbling like crazy. Anxious that some part of the drive train had broken and water would soon come pouring into Pinecone, we shut down the motor and lifted the companion stairs to have a look at the motor. Nothing amiss. We looked at the shaft seal which can be easily viewed in the Outbound’s workroom. Nothing amiss there. No water ingress.

Darkness was approaching and the wind picked up so we could sail. At sea, there is really no off-ramp. Unless you’re hove to, you keep moving. Whatever had happened, we would need to wait until daylight to figure it out. I didn’t sleep well during my off watch hours.

The next morning, in bright sunshine, light air and fairly settled conditions, it was time to inspect the drive train close up in the water. It almost goes without saying that the ocean surface and current are rarely still. I lashed a rope around my torso, strapped on fins, mask and a snorkel and dove overboard. Manuvering under a 46’ long, 16 ton sailboat bobbing up and down isn’t as straightforward as I imagined it. The game was to avoid getting smacked in the head by the heaving hull. Once I dove deep enough to stay clear, my eyes grew wide at the sight of a huge mass of polypropylene fishing line inexorably wrapped around the propeller. The mass completely obscured the 21” long, 4 bladed propeller.

Using a sailing knife and diving 10-12 times, I finally freed the mass and brought some of it onboard. Pictured below. The oceans, unfortunately, contain tons of discarded - unintentionally or not - material from we humans. We restarted the engine and she once again purred as before. “Every day is a school day,” as Wendy’s cousin Clay memorably says.