I hesitate to tell this story, because it makes me look like an idiot (but then again, I am an idiot, so here goes). Back in about 1982, my dad had a 36-foot diesel powered fishing boat that was fresh water cooled via a keel cooler. We kept the boat in Seldovia over the winter, and took it up to Kasilof to fish for Salmon in the summer (lower and middle Cook Inlet, Alaska). I was about 25, and I had a girlfriend who was a nurse up in Kotzebue (which is a long ways away from Anchorage, where I lived). One day in March, she accompanied a medevac to Anchorage, and had a couple of days off before she needed to get back. I thought it would be romantic to go for a little cruise in the boat (first mistake. Commercial fishing boats are not very romantic).
We flew down to Seldovia in my dads Cessna, and I got the boat fired up. My original plan had been to just cruise out into Seldovia bay and anchor a short ways from the small boat harbor, but the inspiration struck me to take her to a place called Portlock, an abandoned cannery site about 10 miles down the coast, where it would be a bit more secluded. (Second, huge mistake. Portlock was actually more like 30 or 40 miles down the coast, and during the winter my dad removed just about everything from the boat - things like radios, sounder, tools, spare parts, charts, etc.) But off we sailed.
Of course about 2 hours out of Seldovia the weather started to get bad. Wind, waves, and it was getting dark. I realized that Portlock was a lot farther away than I had remembered, and I should have turned around right then and there. Third big mistake, I kept on going.
About another hour along, the engine alarm started to sound, and the water temperature gauge showed it was overheating. I shut down the engine and lifted the engine hatch to have a look. Eventually I found the problem. The belt that ran the cooling water pump (and alternator) had broken, so coolant was no longer circulating through the keel cooler or engine. I started ransacking the boat looking for the spare belts we ordinarily carried, but they were not on board. Nor were tools or much of anything else that might be helpful.
At this point we were adrift in a full gale with no radios, no signaling devices, little food and water, and the tide was carrying us into the Gulf of Alaska. Worse yet, I sensed that I was not making a good impression on my date. Around this point, I looked out at the back deck, and noticed that the dingy, a 10 foot Zodiac we ordinarily carried on a hard top over the net reel had broken off and been swept overboard. Things were not looking very good at that moment.
However, since this is a post about jury rigs that got us home, there is a (relatively) happy ending. I eventually located a roll of electrical tape, out of which I fabricated a belt from the flywheel to the water-circulating pump. I was totally convinced that this extremely flimsy appearing jury rig would fly apart the instant I started the engine, but to my surprise, it did not. I put the boat in gear, and headed back towards Seldovia, now over 3 hours away. I told my girlfriend that we would stop in Port Graham or English Bay, small native communities about an hour from our present location. She though that was a good idea, and laid down in the v-berth to get some sleep.
As I came abreast of the first village, I looked down into the engine compartment at my make-shift belt, and it was still going strong, so I decided to continue on. I passed the second of the two villages, and still the belt was holding. We were about another hour out of Seldovia, and I continued. Shortly thereafter, my girlfriend woke up and spotted the lights of Port Graham receding behind the stern. I told her I thought we could make it to Seldovia. She was not amused.
But we did make it to Seldovia. I moored the boat, we walked to the airport and I flew her back to Anchorage. That wasn't the last time I saw the girl, but for all intents and purposes, it marked the end of the relationship. My dad told me that when he was next on the boat, the belt lasted another 30 minutes or so before failing suddenly and without warning. A healthy margin of error, I think. If any of you are in the coast guard, please don't arrest me for the various crimes and regulatory infractions I committed that night. It was probably the worst case of bad judgment and lack of common sense I've ever been a party to, but it did turn out to be an excellent learning experience.
Jim