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Cheap Fuel and Cheap Thrills
By
Tom Neale
I’ve
got this sign on my engine room door that says something about not throwing
away oil. I don’t know exactly what it says, because it’s
got so much oil splattered all over it I can’t read it anymore.
All I know is that the government told me to put it up and that’s
why it’s there. What I don’t know is, Who are they kidding?
Do they really think I’m going to be throwing away oil? Or gas?
Or anything remotely like oil or gas? When I get a drip of oil in my bilge
I scoop it up in a cup and put it in a bottle and keep it in a lock box
in the bank. I’ve been reading that BoatUS is worried about people
spilling a few drops when they take on gas or diesel. We don’t see
any of that around here. It’s hard to spill gas or diesel when they’re
selling it to you in a syringe because the dollar meter runs so fast that
they’re afraid you’re going to max out your card before they
can turn off the pump. Oh,
for the good ol’ days. I dream of being young again. But I don’t
dream about sex in the sixties and the age of innocence and all those
good things about being young that they say you’re supposed to dream
about. I dream of Cheap Gas. Cheap Diesel. When I started boating
in the 50’s I could fill up the tank for my 5 hp outboard at around
$0.15 a gallon and it would get me through half the summer. You know about
the cost of gas and diesel today. A lot’s happened since then and
I sometimes feel like it’s out of control. But not so. You and I
have a better handle on things. We own a boat.

On High Fuel Prices
1.
Never trust a fuel gauge in a boat.
2. If you run out of fuel and you want to lie about it to
keep from feeling stupid, “my fuel gauge was wrong”
is the thing most everybody will believe without question.
3. Don’t ask me how I know these things.
Click
Here for More Tips
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A waterman
told me about a time when he went out half empty because he couldn’t
fill’er up because fishing had been “purty poor.” A
storm blew up and he had to get back into the inlet.
“She
was rolling so bad that the little bit of diesel we had in the tanks started
sloshing right past the pickup tube and the engine started dying, right
outside the cut. I thought I’d lost her for sure.
“What
did you do?”
“Well
Tom, I had three cans of WD 40 aboard and every time the engine started
to quit I sprayed that stuff in the intake until she took off again. I
did that over and over, every time I knew she was affixing to die, and
we just did get into that cut.”
“Well,
didn’t you ruin your engine Cap?”
“Well
Tom, I reckon I did, but I still had a boat to put another one into.”
No, don’t
do this at home, but it reminds me of the fact that people on boats have
long been known to make do when they have to with whatever they have to
make do with. And there are indeed things that I can do to control these
fuel prices.
The first
thing that comes to mind is that I’m having to deal with my love
of speed. I run a 53 foot motorsailer that burns around 3 gallons an hour
if I go for her high speed, racing through the water at around 8 knots.
This might not sound like much, but when you typically take trips of one
or two thousand miles, it’s a bear. Of course, I could pull ‘er
back to a stately 7 knots and burn a third less fuel, but I always feel
I’ve got to go as fast as I can, even if I’m acting like a
turtle hurrying to cross the road when there isn’t any road to cross.
But I’m going to head south at 7 knots this year. I’ll have
double savings on fuel. I won’t burn so much moving and when I run
aground at a slower speed it won’t take so much fuel backing off.
But my real
speed fix comes from my 20 foot Mako with the 20 year old 200 HP Yamaha.
She really rips and the high speed power is a high that I think I can’t
do without. But I can’t even tell you what she burns. That boat
burns so much fuel that the tank is empty before my calculator and clock
can make the calculations. I think it costs about five bucks just to get
out of the slip. (And that’s when I remember to untie all the lines
first.) But when we run her slow, don’t get up on a plane, and just
go out tooling around for a boat ride, she just sips instead of gulps
and she gives us a nice easy beautiful ride, kind of fun. So why don’t
I do this more? Then I’ve got my 12 foot aluminum dinghy. She’s
tough but light. With a 25 HP Yamaha she’ll go at least as fast
as the Mako. And a 6 gallon tank seems to last forever in comparison.
But she is a bit wet, she’s not what you’d call commodious,
the waves that the Mako doesn’t even notice will send her airborne,
and she’s ugly as sin. But I kind of like sin.
You’ve
probably got a lot more sense than me and therefore you probably have
less boats than me. But even with one boat there are options because boats
are special. They’re not like those big RVs or air planes or even
cars or lots of other things that people have fun with—and that’s
where you and I are really lucky.
One of the
great things about boats is that you don’t really have to go anywhere
in a boat to have fun. Sure, it’s fun to pick a destination and
get there, but it’s also fun to just go out in the river and sit.
It’s fun to go to a nearby beach and hang out. It’s fun to
sit in the marina talking with friends and maybe going out for a slow
evening cruise. It’s fun to find a nearby hole and hang a line over—bring
home a little dinner. None of these take a lot of gas or diesel.
And can you
imagine just hanging out in your back yard in your big expensive RV? Or
can you imagine fishing from it? Or can you imagine taking a leisurely
evening cruise around the block in an RV? And if something else were your
fuel consuming passion, you probably wouldn’t be much better off.
All-Terrain-Vehicles usually involve hauling them in the pickup truck
(and you know what those beauties are drinking today) to get to some turf.
Suppose your passion was flying a small plane on the weekend. Maybe you
could sit around in the pilot’s lounge talking with your buddies,
but I can’t imagine hanging out on the runway or in the hanger having
a barbecue like you can on the dock or off your stern. And you can’t
exactly take off and turn of the motor and just drift—not for long.
And I doubt
that, with any of these other pleasurable pursuits, we’d have as
much fun talking with others who also share the passion about effective
ways to save fuel. I’ve been noticing on the BoatUS chat boards
some really good ideas. Like don’t keep your water or fuel tank
full if you don’t need it and you don’t increase risks, or
adjusting your trim. I’ve been noticing people reporting fuel prices
at their marinas. We ought to all report good prices, even if it’s
not really what you’d call cheap gas or cheap diesel. That’s
good stuff that helps others. And it’s good to see a BoatUS fuel
discount at some marinas.
As bad as
it is, we’re pretty lucky to have boats. With a boat, even a fuel
guzzler, we can have a hell of a lot of fun without burning a hell of
a lot of fuel. We don’t have to go fast or far to have fun. A boat
is fun all by itself, just hanging out. It may not be the fun we’ve
grown used to, but it’s still fun. Yep, I miss those 25 knots in
my Mako, I really really do. But the other day when I got aboard to start
the engine to keep her cleaned out, I continued sitting behind the center
console after I’d turned it off. And I continued sitting. I turned
the seat around and looked out over the stern. If felt good. I enjoyed
it—just sitting. I’ve done this a lot more since then. It
reminds me of those days back before I was 9 years old, which was when
I got my very first boat. I used to go down to the riverfront and just
sit in other people’s boats—just sit. It felt good and I could
dream about having a boat of my own some day. A boat’s a great thing
to have.
But that’s
all I’ve got to say right now. The wind’s up. The first nor’easter
of the fall. I’m going to set up my board and do some wind surfing.
Man, am I going to save some money this afternoon—in my littlest
boat.
Copyright 2004-2009 Tom Neale
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