Entry Date: 30.05.2025, at 11:30:00 hrs (UTC)
Kinsale - Dublin
Our Outboard Motor Has Quit on Us
| PRID: | 13169 |
|---|---|
| LegID: | 365 |
| LegNo: | 107 |
| Latitude: | N051°41.70' |
| Longitude: | W008°31.30' |
| Day#: | 1661 |
| Log (Total): | 86156 nm |
And so here we are, caught in the strong tidal currents that spin SuAn in a new direction every six hours. As if that weren’t enough movement, the weather over the North Atlantic had been anything but summery these past few days: lashing rain, howling winds—definitely not the conditions for lowering the dinghy from the foredeck and heading ashore.
Finally, a break in the weather. Calm returns, and the dinghy slips into the water. The way to shore looks clear. But just as we’re about to start the outboard motor—nothing. Not a sound. No spark. Just silence. As if frozen in time.
Now things get serious. The current pulls at us, and without a functioning motor, our heavy dinghy feels too risky to handle. Good advice? Hard to come by—and probably expensive. Even Lutz is out of ideas. We make calls, coordinate, hope. At last, a plan: we’ll need a rental car.
With the paddleboat in tow, we drift down the current toward the shore in our dead-in-the-water dinghy. We take a bus to the airport in Cork to pick up the rental.
The next day, we remove the outboard, load it into the car, tie it down securely. Our destination: Ron in Clonakilty, the engine specialist.
Ron gets right to it. With a practiced eye, he spots the culprit: the fuel—old, stale, broken down into its components. It practically smells like failure. Ron replaces the spark plugs, flushes the fuel system, and fills the tank with fresh gasoline—and suddenly, it springs to life. At first a cough, then a purr.
Once again, the sailor’s golden rule is confirmed: when a motor won’t run, it almost always comes down to three things—fuel, fuel, fuel.
But the odyssey isn’t over yet. The tank in our dinghy is still full of the old, useless fuel. The next day, we load up our faithful paddleboat again and make our way to shore—this time with an empty jerry can in tow. The dinghy still hangs there at the dock, useless without clean fuel. Carefully, we drain the bad gas into the canister.
A trip to the gas station, fresh fuel in hand. One more try. And finally—on the third day—it happens. The outboard hums back to life, the dinghy glides through the water. We tow the paddleboat behind us, back to SuAn.
Now all that’s left is figuring out how to safely dispose of the old gasoline—a challenge for the week to come.
