Today was the last full day for my in-laws. I was hoping to have the propeller situation sorted out so we could go for one more romp around the lake before they left. I called the marina in Pointe Au Baril around lunch time and left a message with the parts person. Getting nervous about the time, at 2 PM I decided to take a drive to talk to someone in person. Turns out, the woman had left at noon for the day so an office manager graciously started to help solve the case. It wasn’t easy with the propeller being an aftermarket with no diameter and pitch markings directly on it. We ended up having to go to the manufacturer’s (Turning Point), website to dissect the code on the side.
The marina didn’t have any Yamaha props at 13.25” diameter, but they had a 13” with the same pitch (19”), as my prop. The sales guy, Ted, who helped me the rest of the way and basically gave me a tour of the main yard, mentioned to try a couple of things with the propeller installed and if it the boat didn’t run like it should under these conditions, I could return it. The first being, how well the boat goes from a standstill to a plane (there was a term he used for this action that I cannot recall), and whether or not the RPM’s went over 6,000.
I was in business. Woo hoo. So I thought anyway.
When I got back, I took off the loner prop – taking pictures of the order the parts came off – and proceeded to put the brand new prop on. It was apparent right away, that there were many differences between the loner, the prop that came with the boat, and the one I purchased. The nut for the loner did not look like my old one with a hole in it for the cotter pin, the pin-type system was different altogether, and there was no spacer and no thrust washer – all terms I have learned this week. Fvck.
I left the prop for the rest of the day. By this time it was dinner anyway and the last fire together before our extended family left for home. One more S’mores, some of the kids watched a movie in the van, and the early evening music was television theme songs from the 80’s, which was fun.
I know Finnegan will miss his little human niece who follows him around everywhere and looks for every opportunity for pats, and I will miss my fishing partner – our newly crowned 10 year-old.
We’ll miss them all, of course.