One of may favorite things about a new to me boat, and I don’t mean in any sense a NEW boat, since New boats don’t have the IT factor. And by IT factor what I mean is all the crap on them. A new boat and even potentially a one owner boat hasn’t had the benefit of time to collect modifications. It hasn’t had the chance to fill deep recesses of the bilge with long forgotten items.
In my previous boats I found great pleasure in spelunking through the bilge or other moldy cramped areas of unpainted fiberglass. I know people that pay good money to go to yoga studios to work on their flexibility and release mental stress; some pay extra for Vinyassas performed with high heat and humidity. With boat spelunking or vessel archaeology one contorts themselves into much more strident positions, with much less mental stress release. If one was to find a comparison, it may best be described and being wedged into an open sewer drain on Bourbon street in July just as a thunderstorm opened up. But not as comfortable.
I recall fondly unloading my Catalina 25’s cockpit locker, then putting my foot behind my head while getting friends to lower me into its cavernous expanse. Once in, the stifling “August in the southern US heat” opened my pores so that the sting from hornets was felt completely and thoroughly. I mean, anybody can achieve meditative “one-ness” on a mat in a studio surrounded by like minded, physically gifted practitioners. But try doing it upside down, getting stung, bleeding from sharp edges, with partially unfinished fiberglass up your nose. Yeah try that. Sorry back to the boat… There underneath a carton of cockpit floor tiles. There, in the bottom of the locker next to 21 self tapping stainless screws, thre washers and a flip flop, was something not listed on the sales manifest. A brand new, sealed vinyl cover for the Catalina Pop-top. Take that hornets.
Another time, in the same boat I decided to see what was in that locker at the aft end of the quarter berth. It was a long crawl. I was a bit more cautious this time, with the obvious stains of Mud Dauber nests from there constant nest creation with the regions red clay. As I approached the small wood hatch covering, I though how nice that the mud daubers were back here, since they probably ate any potential black widows. To my surprise, there were no insects poisonous or otherwise, at all. But I did get an understanding of one of the previous owner’s lifestyle. I guess they were fitness fanatics, because there was 120 pounds of dumbells back there. Not wanting to improve my fitness level, I just left them there for the owner after me to find. I mean, why should I have all the fun?
In the years spent bilge diving I have rarely found anything that could be construed as exceptionally useful. Like all forms of treasure hunting, this endeavor is long on hope and short on cool things. But one keeps doing it. Not out of some mistaken belief that you will be the “Howard Carter” of bilge rats and discover King Tut, but more out of the desire that a boats waterline should, well, be where the water is and not below.
Recently, I was searching through Ventolines. The magic pixies that power lights and electronics were having trouble finding their way home. Tracing wire was the only way to find out why they were having so much trouble. To say I found interesting items would understate by magnitudes the interesting choices a 35 year boat must endure. Wires that changed color 4 or 5 times as they flowed through the boat each with a different colored electrical tape securing the twisted together connection. I found black wires as DC positive and Red as Ground or DC negative. In one area I discovered a strange, possibly marsupial creature; which turned out to be 35 years of hair and grunge solidified into a mass. I also found the usual assortment of broken hose clamps, cut wire ties and screws/nuts.
At this point I was tracing a wire through cabinets. This was one did not appear to have any spices in it, which is unusual but it made up for that small win by being zip-tied every six inches. It disappeared into a hole that lead into a cabinet that I refer to as my “work bench”. I store tools and spares under the counter top. But the wire did not exit into the cabinet, but behind it. Ah, a false back designed to hide hoses and wires no doubt. “But lets see what’s behind it,” I thought to myself.
And there it was. Something useful. It looked practically new. An Eberspacher marine diesel heater. Everything is run except for the final connection of power and the exhaust.
Its almost as if one of the owners set it all up and just didn’t have the heart to drill a hole in their boat to attach the exhaust. The guy I bought the boat from didn’t even know it was in there. Like me, he thought that the duct work was for use with the central air and became disused when they upgraded to the Mermaid reverse cycle. The exhaust thru hull is missing. But it will turn up right after, and only after, I buy 
a new one.
As winter closes in on Charleston, this has become a fantastic discovery. If I can get it working in the coming weeks life away from the dock will get measurably better. It even looks like one of the vent pipes routes to a coaming pocket, in the cockpit. Maybe that full enclosure will get some insulation…
I have a few more panels that I have found that need removal and investigation. While I am sure some new horror awaits, I now have the belief that, just as easily, the space could contain actual treasure. At the very least it could just be a place I store a time capsule for some future owner to find. Since, I shouldn’t have all the fun.