Dirty Surprises...

So far TJ and I have pulled the console and outboard off this Mako 19. Decks are cleared for some destructive fun...

With console removed, we pulled the screws and pried up the deck panel covering the fuel tank. Some good pry bars were needed to break the sealant/adhesive bond securing the panel.

The aluminum tank was as expected, a mess. It looked as if it washed up on a beach then spent a few years beside a dumpster in some alley. The good news - it appears sound, no leaks. From first glance we have two options. Option one - send it out for professional cleaning with new fuel pick up and sending unit installed. Or option two - replace with a new tank of similar dimensions. We are favoring the complete replacement. Why? Because it's the easiest way to ensure good fuel (til they finally perfect the hydrogen fuel cell outboard ;)

We cut the last umbilical - fuel fill and supply hoses - and pulled the tank. From the stale fuel smell wafting from the bilge, it's obvious these hoses failed some time ago. We are likely looking at original fuel hose from circa 1970. Bad fuel tanks below deck are common in classic Makos, Seacrafts and Whalers of this vintage. The quick fix is simple. Just throw an above deck tank on deck and forget about the mess in the bilge. But since the decks are coming up next, it makes perfect sense at this stage to ensure any engine is fed good, clean fuel.

Pausing with the fuel tank for it's final goodbyes to the old Mako, we pitched it over the side. We're now ready for some reckless fun with the Sawzall as we cut out the sore spots.

Engine's Aweigh

Picking an outboard engine off the transom is easy enough in practice. Just grab it by the lifting ring next to the flywheel and hoist her up. But stick a boat in the tightest corner of the warehouse, surround her by other boats and storage shelving, then block her up so she can't move. Now you see why we stand there dumbly scratching our heads. Not so easy now is it.

Eureka! We've got a giant garage door behind us. Just open the door and drive the fork lift around. Wait, there's a foot of snow blocking access to the door. Get out the shovels. Now this door doesn't want to open, blocked in by snow and frozen ice runoff from the roof. Persistence, persistence. This simple process which should take a matter of minutes takes us the better part of our Wednesday night session.

Worn fork lift tires are certainly not made for snow. We clear away enough snow to maneuver and push the old fork through the ice patches til fork is aligned directly over lifting ring. We doubled a stout double braid nylon line as a harness and hoisted her up slow and steady.

As the hours grow late and freezing cold has long since taken all feeling from our fingers, the fork lift is powered down, the sound of the tunes blaring once again dominate the warehouse. The old Evinrude is snugly lying atop a pallet.

What's First To Go?

TJ and I assembled on our first night of action with the big question, "where to start?" Let's start at the top. This console needs to go. Not as bad as we thought, unzip all the deck screws from the decaying teak trim ring- done.


Unhook steering cables- check

Throttle control box- got it

Now how do we squeeze the fork lift between these boats to pull this thing off?- to which TJ politely motions to me- which if vocalized would sound something like "out of the way little man." From the squatting deadlift position he gives a heave. It's cold in this place, unheated warehouse in January. New England weather gave us a hell of a time just getting the front door open with the iced over snow drift blocking the way. As TJ heaves you can see every breath, the seal clings momentarily and then pops as ancient adhesive goop parts (undoubtedly 5200). The console begins to clear the deck. Taking the cue I join in - this is actually pretty light once it's unstuck. We walk the boxy console to the transom to unship it.





Suddenly this boat seems a whole lot bigger. Now for the engine.

Clear the Decks for Action

After a harrowing extraction from the woods of Cape Cod, the Mako 19 now sits happy and dry in the workshop. The tarp retired, it's time to clear the decks of all debris. It's amazing how much stuff one can conceivably store under the tarp of a 19 ft boat. "Hey, I remember this mooring rig, man I really could've used that last year." "Oh cool, my old Craftsman ratchet." "Hey Dad will be happy I recovered his best shovel." Slowly the detritus of lawn debris and nameless objects is cleared away revealing what resembles a boat deck.











With the decks clear, the Jolly Tinker once again reclaims her identity from storage bin to boat. In this new light, our motivation begins to gather way.

"What We've Got Here..."

Well, looking at her from a distance, it's not so bad. Ballpark guess, it's a 1969-1973 Mako. See the mustard yellow non-skid. Low wide notch for the outboard. A real classic. The days when polyester glass was laid up with abandon. The hull is sound- never mind the holes and 5200 repair spots everywhere. Stand back. Squint you're eyes a little. Fresh coat of paint, some epoxy here and there, repower and redo the console... now you're with me. Looks pretty nice doesn't it. Now bring you're eyes back into focus and step closer. Holy Mary Mother of God! Is it supposed to make that crackling sound with every step? I like how the deck sinks in when standing at the helm- is that to absorb shock? Very funny- Don't panic. Remember we can fix anything, so long as you're a stubborn mule who likes a grinder and staying up all night.



"Jolly Tinker" maybe we'll keep the name?


This boat has seen it's share of patches!


Not my first choice for placing a battery. I mean really, who decided this was a good idea? Lots of these Makos seem to have the same wound.


Vintage!

Where to Begin

Some ideas are gifts, others a burden. This project boat, well, only time will tell the difference. The lightning bolt inspiration struck many years ago while cruising the classifieds. The perfect old boat for sale. It had been festering like a side yard sore under blue tarp for many years since. But the time has come, either set aside childish dreams- or make this project happen. So with renewed boldness and confidence, two men trudge forward in the evening hours after work with sawzall in hand and a plan in mind.