A quick fix to keep the Customs man from waiting Lindsay McRory September 29, 1995 Four-thirty came quickly. It was an automatic drill for us to start the engine, cast off, and set sail for Sandwich, Massachusetts. We had a 9:30 a.m. appointment with a U.S. Customs inspector. The rules for entering a country are pretty clear. The first time you dock or anchor, the crew has to stay on board while the skipper calls customs and arranges for clearance. No one is to leave the boat and no one is to come on the boat. A "Q" flag is flown underneath the U.S. courtesy flag to indicate that we are in quarantine and no should come close. Technically we should not of gone ashore in Provincetown, but we had contacted Customs and got a pre-clearance to go ashore before meeting them in Sandwich the next morning. A blue sky followed the rising sun. Light winds blew from the northwest. We continued to motor until the wind picked up. I thought it was a good time to get started on a little work. This was supposed to be a productive trip from a work perspective. My arsenal of computer gear consists of a HP-100lx palmtop, a NEC Versa laptop and an AST 486-66 desktop. Depending on what I have to do dictates what system I use. Today was definitely a palmtop day. With the little device firmly in hand, I headed for a sail bag for a comfortable place to think about a transaction-processing design for our company. After getting things in rough on the HP, I would be able to describe, diagram, and model on the laptop. It seemed like I had just got into a concentrated thinking mode when the engine-overheating alarm sounded. The engine was quickly turned off and the diagnosis came quick. The raw water pump had quit. There are no fans or radiators on marine engines. A raw water pump sucks in sea water from outside the boat and squirts it into a thing called a heat exchanger. Engine water is run through tubes in the heat exchanger. This seems complicated, but if raw seawater were to flow through the engine, rust and all the crud that can be sucked in would shorten the engine's life. To sail any distance offshore means being prepared to be self-sufficient. My friends tell me they are self-sufficient homeowners because they do their own repairs and maintenance. If supplies are required they go to the local hardware store and purchase whatever they need. In a sailboat you need to have your spares before break downs. No hardware stores 150 mile due east from Boston. Hakuna Matata carries an extensive list of spare parts, injector sets, alternator, engine water pump, belts, hoses. . . It goes on and on. It's impractical to carry one of everything, even if you had the room and money. Where would you stop? A spare engine block? Spare mast? We try to carry the things that are known to break more frequently. So back to the raw water pump. In stock we have two raw-water pump impellers, a raw water pump rebuild kit, several bushings, and gaskets. But the whole pump was fried and we didn't have one of those. There was not enough wind to sail, and the customs inspector would be waiting for us in Sandwich. Going back to first principles, the pump sucks sea water and pushes it through the exchanger. We ended up ripping out the electric freshwater pump and plumbing it in place of the raw water pump. It worked great. We were pretty happy with this little jury rig. With a quick call on the cell phone we had a new one ordered up for next-day delivery to Sandwich marina. Sandwich was a great little spot. There was no problem arranging for a slip or clearing customs. We bought some lobster from a fisherman who happened to be unloading the morning haul. Three dollars a tail got us the best lobster any of us had ever eaten. The pump arrived at 10:30 the next morning. It was installed in a flash, dock lines cast. Next stop: Martha's Vineyard.