[Stop press May 4, 09:00: Ed - input charge down to 2-3A this morning and batteries cool at 21-22 degrees C. Reconnected bow thruster battery and absorption phase normal. So we just await Costas to bring the replacement battery for me to install. And then we watch again. But feeling positive. 11:00 - new battery installed. Seems to be absorbing normally. Happy days!]
[Stop press May 3, 21:00: Ed - new battery charger installed (Costas is a lovely guy). So we are back on shore power and watching the current and battery temps every hour. Oh the joy of sailing. Fingers crossed!]
[Stop Press May 3: Ed - Batteries still overcharging and overheating at 01:30 this morning. First in line was over 50 degrees C. Disconnected shore power! The search for the solution continues…]
My Apple phone alarm is set to ring at 07:15, although I am usually awake by then, or even sailing to our next destination. The sound is a slightly annoying two-tone piano chord for a short while, then starts rising up the octave. I sometimes think I must get around to changing it, but of course I forget once I’m up.
My alarm went off on Saturday morning as usual, and for thirty glorious seconds I stretched and revelled in the fact that we were tied up in the marina in Kalamata to avoid the next major weather system. The only thing I really had to do today was to drop more washing off at the laundry, and collect yesterday’s bags.
Then BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP…
What in heaven’s name was that?
For that split second, we wondered if it was another boat, and we could just ignore it, but instinctively we both leapt out of bed and stepped into the saloon. The source of the noise was our newly-acquired carbon monoxide alarm, happily chirping away. Bugger!
A few things happened almost at the same time. Richard prodded at the alarm to stop it, but it was on a roll, and its internal health and safety policy was telling it to keep going. He effectively shut it up by removing one of AA batteries, while I opened hatches and checked if our lips were cherry red.
Meanwhile, Richard was sniffing the air, and stepped onto the floorboard covering our pack of four house batteries. These batteries have always been [Ed – too] warm underfoot when they are connected to shore power, and we’ve had three different electricians look at them over the past year and not one found the problem. But this time, the floorboard wasn’t just warm, it was hot. He pulled open the board to find one of the batteries was fizzing acid.
Regular readers of season one may remember that we had exactly the same problem with our engine battery last year, a few hours away from Sardinia on our two-night crossing from Barcelona. As we had planned to buy tools in Sardinia, but Richard had to use his trusty Leatherman (a posh Swiss Army knife) to remove the engine battery and replace it with a house battery. We put it down to being a faulty battery (our commissioning company - SAS - in Canet-en Roussillon had had to ask Beneteau previously for a replacement for a bad battery.)
Since then, we’ve had to unplug from shore power on a few occasions when the floorboard got too warm, but no professional has been able to definitively find the problem. Maybe SAS hadn't realised there was a more fundamental issue either.
Any power (shore, engine or solar) charges the batteries via a charger unit. Richard discovered late last season that our Cristec charger has been left at factory settings, i.e., for basic lead-acid batteries. It should have been set to charge AGM batteries!
Richard tried to alter the switches physically, but the charger is fitted in tight and inaccessible space. And the controls can only be accessed from underneath after removing a cover panel. He managed to remove the cover, and then used my compact mirror to see up inside the bottom of the charger. He used his phone as a light and a magnifying glass and used ‘selfie’ mode (I think). But as his screwdriver handles were too long to get at the switches, he had to use the kitchen implement that you use to get meat from a crab’s claw. Needless to say, he couldn’t quite manage to perform this delicate, mirror-image operation.
He decided that we actually needed to remove the 240v 60 amp charger, and quite frankly we’d prefer an electrician to do that. If it was put back wrongly, it would make a louder noise than our carbon monoxide alarm!
Anyway, back to this morning. Richard removed the fizzing battery (after disconnecting from shore power in case you were worried). I trotted around to security to see if they could give us the name of the marina electrician, who gets a lot of plaudits in marina reviews. We needed to wait for the manager to get in, and serendipitously, we happened to be with him when Costas rode past on his moped, and he flagged him down. Costas promised to be with us at midday. That left us with enough time to have a breakfast of fried eggs and toast at the marina restaurant as we joked about which was more fried – the eggs or the battery.
Costas was marvellous. He did the standard checks and then removed the charger unit. Richard asked him to set the switches to AGM and Costas agreed that that was probably the problem/solution. He put it all back together, and since then, the floorboards have remained cool. We are hoping it is finally sorted. And Costas will try to order us a new battery from Athens which we hope to pick up when we are in Poros. What a lovely man.
P.S. For the record, our alarm did not actually detect carbon monoxide, but an article from Yachting Monthly suggests it was most likely hydrogen sulphide from the battery. I read that these detectors can also be set off by high concentration of other vapours or high concentration of alcohol. Hmm, I might have to confiscate Richard’s beer supply. [Ed – cheeky]