I’ve never owned a boat which brought less drama, that demanded less of its owner.
Last fall I hauled it while incapacitated with a leg injury. Into the plastic shed it went with only the most rudimentary winterizing steps. It sat there for a couple of months, and as I recovered I took the contents of the locker out and dried them. The charger went onto the trolling motor battery, but the other one sat where it was.
In one boneheaded moment during a heavy snowstorm in February I put my fist through the 6 mm plastic roof above the bow seat. Hasty repairs with tuck tape controlled most of the leakage for the remainder of the winter, but some water found its way to the floor of the building through the bilge.
As soon as possible in spring I hauled it out and launched it. The fuel in the tanks had received ample stabilizer, but not what had actually been in the engine at layup. With some apprehension I turned the key. The Merc 40 purred to life as if it had last been operated the day before. I ran out to ensure that the ice was in fact out of the lake, and then announced the winner of the Newboro Lake Ice-Out Contest, Louise Pritchard of Newboro.
It turned out to be a quiet spring for boating, and by the first week in June when I hauled the Princecraft for a bath, I had to scrub hard to get the accumulated algae off the hull and lower unit. The interior was littered with the remains of flowers from the overhanging oak tree. An hour with the pressure washer took care of the grooming, though I don’t know how I could clean the textured vinyl flooring without a high pressure jet.
As far as the performance of the boat, I have become utterly spoiled. It runs beautifully at whatever speed I choose up to 29 mph. It handles a chop as well as can be expected from a vessel not built of wooden planks. There’s room for four fishing rods plus tackle in the locker. Life jackets lurk out of the way under the helm.
Early on I removed a spray head from the input to the live well after it had plugged with weeds. I wasn’t able to thread it back in so it rode around in the bottom of the tank until the tournament on June 15th. Somehow it found its way into the drain, and then a crewman screwed the top stalk into place over it, effectively plugging the overflow. To compound the problem I turned the pump on to keep our fish lively and before long there was more water than I would like on the lower deck of the boat. Ten minutes of bilge pump work and things were settled again, but I would recommend not abandoning that spray fitting in the bottom of the live well.
We placed third in the tournament that day, but it was not the fault of the boat. It performed flawlessly. Perhaps one reason for my reduced fish production this year is that the boat is so enjoyable at trolling speed that I have spent increasing amounts of time loafing around in deep water, looking at the scenery instead of digging aggressively for largemouths along the shoreline.
Anyway, so far, so good on the Princecraft/Mercury 40.
UPDATED! Princecraft Starfish 16′ DLX SC review #6: preliminary fuel consumption figure
August 30, 2012
One day last week I attached a full tank of high test to the Mercury EFI 40 with a recorded hour meter reading of 10.1 hours. Last night I switched the tank out at 14.9 hours, even though there was some fuel left. This morning I added 18.8 litres at $24.63 to top the tank up.
What was the engine doing in that interval? Two evenings involved running 6 miles to Indian Lake to troll. Others involved the usual jaunts at cruising speed out to fishing spots on Newboro and Pollywog. These involved considerable slogging through weeds. One chore was towing a full-dress Ranger bass boat and its owners back to Newboro in the dark after its engine mysteriously quit*. I’d never seen a five-blade prop for an outboard before.
* January 30, 2013: After several months of thinking about this fuel consumption anomaly, I must conclude that someone added fuel to the tank of the unattended boat without my knowledge. The prime suspect would be the owner of the Ranger bass boat I towed in to Newboro.
Note:
My hour meter measures time that the key is on, not revolutions, so a trolling hour counts the same as an hour on plane.
18.81 litres is 4.96 US gallons or 4.13762 Imperial gallons.
hours 4.8
UPDATE: 7 September, 2012
I may not have put enough gas in the tank at the station the last time, because today’s top-up came at 16.5 hours. I put a bit more fuel in this time and it took 21.32 litres at a cost of $28.56.
The boat usage during this interval involved trips on plane of two to six miles in length.
Obviously it takes a large sample to provide a reasonable estimate of fuel consumption with measurement as clumsy as what I am using. But I shall persist.
UPDATE: 18 September, 2012
I switched for a full tank at 18.4 hours after a series of three-mile runs on plane over the course of a week. So that’s 1.9 hours per tank at cruising speed. I think there would have been enough fuel for a bit more. Perhaps two hours per tank is a reasonable estimate of fuel consumption under normal conditions and load — as long as there is a second fuel supply available if the tank runs dry.
Princecraft Starfish DLX SC Review#4: The hour meter
July 23, 2012
“Rod, you don’t need instruments,” Dave Brown assured me when I asked if the instrument cluster was included with the motor. Apparently they go with the boat, and this one was a stripper. “The ECU in the engine records its hours. Bring it by and I’ll put a gauge on it to determine oil change intervals.” And so I went.
But then the tanks of fuel went by and I found myself wondering intensely when the first service interval was. So I stopped by the dock and Dave had no time to scope the engine. Further delays and I bought oil and filter and changed from the 10W30 break-in oil to Mercury’s 25W40 synthetic blend by myself.
For a variety of reasons, mostly unrelated to the health of the engine, I wanted an hour meter. Nobody seems to sell a true revolution-counter apart from as part of a large instrument cluster. The ignition-on hour meter, on the other hand, is widely available. While such a counter is ridiculous on a tractor as the same person who stalls the thing likely leaves the key on, running on several hundred hours before the battery dies, this might not happen with an outboard motor. Perhaps an ignition-timer is all I need.
The inexpensive impedance meter sensor wraps around a spark plug wire and gives a reading. But it has a little gadgetty digital readout and looks like a cheap, well, gadget. I wanted something I could display with pride on my instrument panel.
Princess Auto had an hour meter in the trailer section for a little less than the sale price of an axle. Bravely I fitted a 2” Forsner bit into my best cordless drill, then perforated an empty anti-freeze container with a series of neat, round holes until I became proficient enough to try the same process on the vinyl dash of my new Princecraft. The drilling went fine. Sardonic comments about the makeup of the Princecraft’s dash are inappropriate at this time*.
Charlie found a pair of wire clusters behind the control unit, tucked into the valence. I felt around with a multi-meter until I located a pair of wires which gave me 12v only when the ignition switch was on. He hooked the gauge up with all of the best crimp-on connectors he could find in his tool boxes.
The little light began to flash with the ignition switch, but the hour meter would not move. Ooops!
Many variations produced no success. It wasn’t until I moved the boat into the shop, removed all of the neat connectors and jury-rigged a power source that I established there was nothing wrong with the meter. My neutral was intermittent. So I ran a new neutral back to the battery, twisted and taped things back together, and the gauge began to work properly.
Everything will be fine unless Dave decides he needs to hook up his computer. I think I took one of its wires to feed the hour meter. I’ll trip over that fence when we come to it.
The first revelation the hour meter provided was that I had greatly overestimated how many hours I was putting on the motor. Some fishing trips on Newboro Lake use only .1 hour of engine time, though most run about .3 hours. It’s not a huge area, and a typical 12 or 13 mile round trip doesn’t take all that long.
So far with an elapsed time of 5 hours I have used up a couple of jerry cans of regular gas (I haven’t learned how to measure mileage yet, but I’ll eventually figure a way and bore you with the details) and added several 2 lb packs of crappie fillets to the freezer hoard, as well as a few meals of largemouth fillets, as well. Generally I keep fish every third time out, but I’m likely bringing home food more often this early in the season to justify the expensive fishing equipment this year.
BTW: the one trip out with the GPS showed a top speed of 50 km for the boat with empty live well and one operator. That’s a hair under 30 mph, and well within the insurance industry’s cut-off for speedboats. At insurance time, be prepared to provide a driving and accident history of each potential driver for any vessel capable of more than 32 mph.
* Said dash has withstood several hits from astonished crappies flying through the air, and was as good as new today after a shot from the pressure washer. The textured vinyl flooring, on the other hand, is hard to clean without the services of said pressure washer. Over the course of two rain-free weeks the floor had become so encrusted with grime from fish and weeds that I hauled the boat home for a facelift. It worked.
Needless to say, the fishing has been good this July.