I had kept the engine running while we were pumping out and just before we finished it ran down. I guess I didn't wind the spring up tight enough the first time. It started right away, but I had this funny feeling.
Out of the marina and on our way. It took a minute to figure out exactly where we were and get going in the right direction. We had started out to open sea. Oops, backtrack time. I found North on the compass and we started running. The winds were out of the west, so we decided to motor sail for a while. Light air but enough to keep the sails full and add a bit to the speed. Life is wonderful. Late in the afternoon, we were running the ICW where it takes a left hook. Right into the sun. Needless to say, the pilot lost the mark and we ran aground. I got a bit upset, unfortunately, and did a no-no and shifted violently into reverse, ripping the already loose control knob off the Morse single control lever. After an expletive deleted comment I let go with the knob. It ricocheted around a bit before disappearing over the side. I've GOT to work on that temper. I felt better. The boat had just been bumping along. I wasn't hard aground and the ground didn't seem to be hard, so after bumping back along about the same course, I turned back into the channel. About this time, the engine died. I looked at the gauges and found the engine was starting to heat up. I incorrectly assumed that there was some sort of overtemp cutout device. Turns out that isn't right it died for a completely different reason. I quickly surmised that we had kicked up something and sucked something into the raw water system. The wind was still out of the west and so I continued to sail on while asking my talented crew to check things over.
I'm not a diesel mechanic, nor were any of the others however they discovered that the raw water pump wasn't turning any longer. Off with the pump. Sure glad I put the toolbox on board that had some of my metric sockets in it that I usually take on Motorcycle trips. That damned engine (Perkins 4-154) was made overseas. Stan and Gary tackled the job of getting it apart, no mean feat since I didn't happen to have a large screwdriver on board. It looked like new. The impeller was perfect and nothing seemed amiss. In pieces, everything turned freely. When they got it back together, it worked perfect. We never did figure out what caused the freeze. While pulling the pump we learned that the pulley keyway had rounded out and was an oval shape rather than the desired rectangular shape. Stan dug up some stainless steel fishhooks, cut them off and jammed them in the enlarged keyway. He's pretty handy to have around. Later I would learn that a replacement pulley costs a mere $330.
"Tighten the belt and lets get started again", ordered the captain! Somewhere north of Indian River Shores we found a wide spot in the ICW and set the anchor. It was a tough day. I had a couple of beers. Maybe three. Maybe more. So did everyone except Stan. He doesn't drink. Or didn't until this trip.