Saturday, November 21, 2015
Engines
One day I found myself taking inventory of my processions: the stuff I have acquired over 62 years of being a privileged westerner. I know I have more than I need or for that matter, deserve. For whatever reason, engines came to mind. As of today — 11/5/2015 — I am in possession of nine engines. This is in complete opposition to Rikyu’s (the founder of Chanoyu, the Tea Ceremony) aphorism, “In that chanoyu is possible as long as you have one kettle, it is foolish to possess numerous utensils”.
The following list is not to gloat, just to give an idea of where these engines reside: two cars, one motorcycle, a boat, a generator (in the boat), two outboard motors, a lawn mower, and a snow blower. I purposely did not include the lithium battery powered outboard that is use on the boat’s dinghy. If I started to include electric motors, well there would be no end.
The most recent engine is an exquisitely built V6 that lives under the hood of a Honda Accord Coupe. When I say exquisite, I mean just that. It even has a beautiful name: Earth Dreams. It hides under a black plastic shroud but that has not stopped me from peering around every corner with a powerful LED flashlight.
This is the only Honda engine I own. Honda seems to be one step ahead of their competitors when it comes to style and function. It performed superbly driving 2700 miles to South Carolina and back over the mountains of the east coast. It accelerated to seventy mph with ease and got 33 mpg.
The engine on Carrie Rose, the 32’ Nordic Tug, is a different animal. The Cummins 5.9 turbo diesel is firmly secured under the pilothouse floor. It is a massive straight six, and creates lots of noise and vibration. I live with this engine.
Few people lift the hood of their car and inspect the engine before starting, but I do this before every boat ride. There are times when I am tempted not to scrutinize it. I try to justify this: I am only going a short distance, so why bother; I need to take two heavy pilothouse floorboards up to inspect the engine; and surely, it will not matter this one time.
I resist this slippery slope and climb down into the engine room to search for defects. The oil and coolant levels are checked. The raw water and fuel filters are inspected. I search for any signs of stray oil or fuel. The beam of my flashlight illuminates the bilge for traces of water, oil, fuel, or coolant. Then the hoses get a look and maybe a squeeze. The throttle and transmission cables have loosened in the past, so I make sure they are connected. Once I have satisfied myself that all is copacetic, only then are we ready to shove off.
Since I am describing the engine room, let me discuss the Kohler generator. It is mounted left of the main engine. It can produce four kW of 110 volts, enough to run the air conditioner and charge the batteries of the multiple electronic gadgets that travel with the boat. It also comes in handy when the solar panels do not keep up with the electricity use. Running it an hour or two a day takes care of most energy needs.
The generator’s engine is a 23hp Yanmar diesel. Yanmar diesels are legendary for their compactness and durability. For all that, this 2-cylinder engine is noisy, stinky, and shakes up a storm. It does the job and so these traits are overlooked.
Other boating related engines are the antique 2hp Evinrude and the 6hp Mercury outboards. Neither has seen much use. In fact, one is buried in the garage and the other is hidden in a basement corner. I row the dinghy or when feeling lazy use the Torqeedo electric outboard. The Torqeedo is my Tesla. It runs on a lithium ion battery pack that will take the dinghy (and me) almost twenty miles at 3 knots. I think of it as a DeWalt drill for the water.
Then there is the lawn mower. I began cutting the grass with a push mower but tired of it and bought an inexpensive big box gasoline lawn mower. The blades are sharpened and the oil checked once per year. I put gas in it and cut the grass. The oil stays clean and full, so I never change it. In twenty years, I have owned two. The first one’s carburetor failed. It was impossible to fix, and the second one is still working. I’ll put it in the alley for the scrap guys when it dies, and buy a new one.
The snow blower was purchased after mangling my low back one too many times. It is a welcomed aid. I have also bought two of these. The first one’s carburetor failed. The second ran for one year and when I neglected to drain the fuel out of it after the winter, refused to start. And yes, I had the carburetor rebuilt. Oh, for fuel injectors.
I almost forgot the motorcycle. I lusted after this and then barely used it. BMW produced mine in 1963. It is black and stealthy in that odd early 20th century Germanic sort of way. I parked it for good after rotating through the trauma and neurological surgical services my fourth year of medical school. Enough said.
Engines are as far as I got with my rainy day list. What have these engines taught me? They have taught me to be handy and diligent, and they have taught me where to put my time and resources. But alas, I am afraid another of Rikyu’s aphorisms pertains to me, “People who have many utensils but hide them away and pretend not to are also foolish”.
(I thank Gretchen Mittwer for her translation of Rikyu’s One Hundred Verses.)
The following list is not to gloat, just to give an idea of where these engines reside: two cars, one motorcycle, a boat, a generator (in the boat), two outboard motors, a lawn mower, and a snow blower. I purposely did not include the lithium battery powered outboard that is use on the boat’s dinghy. If I started to include electric motors, well there would be no end.
The most recent engine is an exquisitely built V6 that lives under the hood of a Honda Accord Coupe. When I say exquisite, I mean just that. It even has a beautiful name: Earth Dreams. It hides under a black plastic shroud but that has not stopped me from peering around every corner with a powerful LED flashlight.
This is the only Honda engine I own. Honda seems to be one step ahead of their competitors when it comes to style and function. It performed superbly driving 2700 miles to South Carolina and back over the mountains of the east coast. It accelerated to seventy mph with ease and got 33 mpg.
The engine on Carrie Rose, the 32’ Nordic Tug, is a different animal. The Cummins 5.9 turbo diesel is firmly secured under the pilothouse floor. It is a massive straight six, and creates lots of noise and vibration. I live with this engine.
Few people lift the hood of their car and inspect the engine before starting, but I do this before every boat ride. There are times when I am tempted not to scrutinize it. I try to justify this: I am only going a short distance, so why bother; I need to take two heavy pilothouse floorboards up to inspect the engine; and surely, it will not matter this one time.
I resist this slippery slope and climb down into the engine room to search for defects. The oil and coolant levels are checked. The raw water and fuel filters are inspected. I search for any signs of stray oil or fuel. The beam of my flashlight illuminates the bilge for traces of water, oil, fuel, or coolant. Then the hoses get a look and maybe a squeeze. The throttle and transmission cables have loosened in the past, so I make sure they are connected. Once I have satisfied myself that all is copacetic, only then are we ready to shove off.
Since I am describing the engine room, let me discuss the Kohler generator. It is mounted left of the main engine. It can produce four kW of 110 volts, enough to run the air conditioner and charge the batteries of the multiple electronic gadgets that travel with the boat. It also comes in handy when the solar panels do not keep up with the electricity use. Running it an hour or two a day takes care of most energy needs.
The generator’s engine is a 23hp Yanmar diesel. Yanmar diesels are legendary for their compactness and durability. For all that, this 2-cylinder engine is noisy, stinky, and shakes up a storm. It does the job and so these traits are overlooked.
Other boating related engines are the antique 2hp Evinrude and the 6hp Mercury outboards. Neither has seen much use. In fact, one is buried in the garage and the other is hidden in a basement corner. I row the dinghy or when feeling lazy use the Torqeedo electric outboard. The Torqeedo is my Tesla. It runs on a lithium ion battery pack that will take the dinghy (and me) almost twenty miles at 3 knots. I think of it as a DeWalt drill for the water.
Then there is the lawn mower. I began cutting the grass with a push mower but tired of it and bought an inexpensive big box gasoline lawn mower. The blades are sharpened and the oil checked once per year. I put gas in it and cut the grass. The oil stays clean and full, so I never change it. In twenty years, I have owned two. The first one’s carburetor failed. It was impossible to fix, and the second one is still working. I’ll put it in the alley for the scrap guys when it dies, and buy a new one.
The snow blower was purchased after mangling my low back one too many times. It is a welcomed aid. I have also bought two of these. The first one’s carburetor failed. The second ran for one year and when I neglected to drain the fuel out of it after the winter, refused to start. And yes, I had the carburetor rebuilt. Oh, for fuel injectors.
I almost forgot the motorcycle. I lusted after this and then barely used it. BMW produced mine in 1963. It is black and stealthy in that odd early 20th century Germanic sort of way. I parked it for good after rotating through the trauma and neurological surgical services my fourth year of medical school. Enough said.
Engines are as far as I got with my rainy day list. What have these engines taught me? They have taught me to be handy and diligent, and they have taught me where to put my time and resources. But alas, I am afraid another of Rikyu’s aphorisms pertains to me, “People who have many utensils but hide them away and pretend not to are also foolish”.
(I thank Gretchen Mittwer for her translation of Rikyu’s One Hundred Verses.)