Rust monster

 You can see how rusted the pistons and cylinders got. Basically fused together. The engine shop said that three of them came out fine, but the 4th was a real mother. No way I was getting them out with slippery lubricants and the puny force of a hand crank.

And in this one you can get a sense of the rest of the damage to the rest of the engine. Now that all of the parts of the engine were off and disassembled, Crumbolst and I took the block and new parts to the engine shop. And then, while I waited and waited, I painted the engine.

...and you're out!

 This first picture is where the engine would be sitting. What you can see in this picture is: the coupling to the propeller shaft and the cutlass bearing; the clear-ish tube is the bilge pump hose; in the top right corner is the exhaust pipe; and at the bottom of the picture is the gear shift lever. Also, you can see what a dirty mess it was under the engine. I try to keep the boat as clean as possible, but there are some areas my hands just can't reach.

I guess this picture is sort of upside down, but since the engine is on its side, it doesn't really matter. What we have here is the entire Atomic 4. To the left is the front of the engine, where the flywheel is, and to the right, where the gear shift ever is, the transmission. You can also see where the oil pan separates from the rest of the block. This is just after I learned about those two long bolts holding the oil pan to the transmission. What a dirty, dirty engine. I have always wanted to pull it to clean and paint under and around the engine, and give the engine a makeover, so this is sort of a blessing in disguise.

two pictures, or, 2000 words on the engine rebuild...

Here's the Atomic 4 without its hoses, the starter, the alternator, or spark plugs. This will give you a little perspective on what's to follow. This is also pretty much where it sits in the cabin, and we place a two-step stair over top if it.

And so, back to the beginning of the story: here's the engine with the head removed. Even here you can see some rust. I was hoping that a good soak in some Kroil would lubricate the pistons enough to get them going. After seeing this whole process through, and seeing how smooth the cylinder walls really need to be, I realize I should have just pulled the engine as soon as I got the head off.

and the Atomic 4 project...

The short version of the story is that...well...you see...the Atomic Fours are spoken of hushed and reverent tones, mostly because they just go and go and go. The A4 is raw water cooled, which means that the water pump sucks in sea water, and then that water runs around the cylinders in what's called a water jacket. I like that term, water jacket. Then up and out through the manifold and out the back of the boat. For whatever reason, if the engine doesn't catch, that water can flow backwards back into the engine, through the manifold and into the cylinders via the exhaust ports - are you still with me?

So, since I'm greedy for sailing, I left the boat in the water last winter the 10-11 winter, and on a warmish spring day, just about exactly a year ago, I tried to start the engine. (A note of explanation in case you are stumbling in from somewhere other than the Great South Bay: I could go sailing without the engine, but on most days here the wind is blowing from the S or SE or from any of the Norths, and so I'd have to tack back and forth to go out or come back in. That's fine if you want to spend a lot of energy and time to go a quarter of a mile. I do not.)

Anyway, on this fine Spring day I turned the key and no go. So I kept trying and still no go. I figured that the batteries were too low after the winter to turn it over.

I couldn't get back to the boat for about two weeks. After a good, long charge, I tried again. Even worse. Now I wasn't even getting much out of the starter - just a big kuhjunk.

Hmm...

After a good, long think and a couple of tests, I realized that I actually flooded the engine with salt water. Now, I know I was supposed to close the raw water seacock/valve to avoid such a problem, but it pretty much NEVER happens to anyone. Maybe guys are actually shutting the valve every time. I know I will be in the future, and if it burns out the impeller in the water pump, so be it. Better than tearing down the whole engine or working through any of the intermediate steps again.

By my best calculation, the engine sat for about two weeks, in some pretty cold spring nights, with a good healthy drink of salt water in the cylinders, in the oil pan, and so on, just rusting the bejesus out of the crank, the rods, the valves and lifters, and the piston rings.

First I tried chemicals to try to bust up some of the rust and lubricate the moving parts: Marvel Mystery Oil (no good); Automatic Transmission Fluid (no good); ATF and acetone (no good); Kroil (no good); PB Blaster (no good); vinegar (no good); a product called "Engine Release" (completely and totally useless); a product called "Seafoam" (no good); and straight acetone (no good). I even thought about pouring in some KY. I tried force (no good); I tried cussing (no good); I tried reason (no good). My little A4 was on lock down.

So I started to disassemble it from front to back and from top to bottom. I'll post some pics so you can see it all. Eventually I came to the conclusion that I needed some professional help. And that I would need someone to fix the engine. So, with Crumbolst's help, we dismantled the entire thing: the head, all sorts of layers of flywheel, alternator, starter, water pump, distributor, carburetor, manifold, all the electricity, the fuel pump, and then unmounted the whole thing from the propeller shaft and the frame/boat and dragged it into the cabin.

What a freaking mess. I mean, unbelievable. All the remnants of the above mentioned remedies were all over the place. I let it drain into the bilge and then in the dark of night pumped it all overboard. (KIDDING!) Then we unbolted the transmission and flipped it over. More shit poured out. Unbolted the oil pan (13 bolts, plus two long ones in the back that you hardly notice until you can't figure out why the fug the oil pan isn't coming off the block). The oil pan is the entire length of the engine and weighs about 20 pounds. It's a big, honkin piece of steel. So is the head. Just so much solid metal on this thing. The scrap metal guy that drives around my hood looking for old bikes would bust if he saw this thing on the curb.

We thought for sure that we'd be able to rotate the crank and get at some of the rust on the cylinder walls once we could get inside the block. Knowing what I know now, man, what a laugh! Crusty is the kindest word I can use to describe the scene inside the block. It looked like, and was, toast. So we off-loaded everything we could. Not easy, especially the block itself, which weighed, in Crumbolst's estimate, about 90 pounds with everything taken off/out. I thought it weighed about 300. He's much stronger than I am and so it just seemed heavier to me.

Long story short: We took it to a machine shop (the less I say about this fargin icehole the better) and a few weeks later I got the block back. Here's where the asterisk comes in: I did not reassemble the rotating assembly. I mean, I could have. I think. I have the book/specs and so I could have had him machine everything and give it back to me. But I have this new baby, see, and so I just don't have the time. Next time, though, I will do the rotating assembly. Just to do it.

You want the whole story, right? I mean, I could go into all sorts of detail...

It turns out that:
1) the pistons were already oversized (.020 over spec/original). So I could either go .030 over OR get the cylinders sleeved, basically taking a tube of steel and making the cylinder the original, proper size. Either way I needed new pistons and rings. I was nervous about having this guy I didn't trust drill four big holes in my block (for the sleeves), but fuckit, it's just time and money right? So I ordered the sleeves, new standard pistons, rings, new oversized main bearings (since the crank had to be machined), and new bearings for each of the piston rods. That sound you hear is me being a job creator, pumping all sorts of capital into the economy. The sound you don't hear is my engine running in August. Another sound you hear at this moment is my teeth grinding together as hurricane Irene bears down on my trapped-in-its-slip boat.

2) the cylinders (and so the sleeves, too) are "too small" for the machine shop. Fugging asshole douchebag motherfucker dickwad what the fuck? Can you do the job or can you not do the job? This is your shop, right? I mean, you're a craftsman, right? A-hole. So the machine shop has to take them next door to the motorcycle machine shop. Good solution, but dude, you said you knew this engine and had worked on them etc...Total a-hole.

3) one of the pistons had a crack in it and is now a paperweight on my work desk.

So after much ado I get my goods back from the machine shop, I paint it all a pretty "Old Ford Blue" and start reassembly. Just follow the directions in the book for the timing: make sure your distributor goes in properly, the rotor is facing the right way, and your wires are right, and you should be good to go.

Troubles overcome:
I left the fuel pump sort of wedged into place. It fell and in doing so created a suction that drained about 12 gallons of gas into the bilge. That was fun pumping that into 5 gallon buckets and cost me a whole morning of work (while I was waiting to get blowed up). Next time I'll closed the gasoline supply line. Takes about three seconds.

How to get the block back onto the boat by myself? a combination of daring, strength, luck, balance, and a hearty bowl of Wheaties.

I pulled out one of the studs holding the head down. So I had to retap that with an oversized stud.

I mashed the threads of one of the three manifold bolts. 2 day timeout while that got to me.

Rewiring. Do I need to elaborate? Do I need to say "label even the shit you think is obvious when you unhook it because it won't be obvious later?"

Not enough battery to pump out the bilge (just rainwater; no ecosystems were harmed during this rebuild), so two new batteries go in.

What I was really, really worried about was that the machine shop didn't put the valves back in such a way that they would open and close to the timing of the firing order. I wouldn't be able to know until I turned the key, sort of, and by then I would just have to disassemble EVERYthing to set it right. By the time I picked up my stuff there was so much friction between us, I thought the guy might sabotage me just to be a (bigger) dick. By sort of I mean that I think I could have run through a kind of firing order role-play and figured out if the intake and exhaust valves were doing what they were supposed to be doing when they were supposed to be doing it before I bolted the oil pan back on and sealed it all up. But I don't really have that kind of mind, so it would have been a real struggle.

And finally, after all that, after months of labor and thinking and learning and research and reading and tinkering and ordering and cleaning and painting and assembly and tightening and cleaning and torquing, and only a few extra washers, bolts, and nuts left over, I turn the key and the son of a mother started right up. A few adjustments later (The carburetor. I mean. Shit. What a simple and complicated device. Finicky! I must have bolted and unbolted that thing about ten times trying to get it right.) and we're running smooth and sweet.

There are still some adjustments to be made, and I haven't actually motored under load, so we'll see.

where have you been the past 14 months? you don't call. you don't write.

I don't know how long it's going to last, but I figured I'd like to try to bring back the Redwing blog, and I'd like to start with explaining where the hell I've been for the past 14 months: we had a baby, a beautiful boy named Jack, and I rebuilt the Redwing's Atomic 4, an engine I used to love, but now hate.

Here's Jack, who was born in August: