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But when the C120 was
good, it was very good. In that opening photo the machine had been working
fine for many hours, despite my Curious George tendency to push buttons
until all possibilities are exhausted. I particularly liked how I could
set up two differently zoomed scrolling chart windows, course up to match
the radar, with the boat two-thirds toward the bottom for maximum look-ahead.
Thus I almost always had all the local detail and big picture information
I wanted without ever needing to zoom or pan. I was also impressed with
the C120’s comprehensible menu system and powerful route-making routines.
Meanwhile, various older
boat issues were cropping up. The sounder’s transducer saw bottom
intermittently, and the info coming from the fuel tank senders was flaky.
We did make our planned diesel stop in the Canal, but later felt the signs
of a clogged fuel filter, not unanticipated given how long the fuel in
her tanks had been sitting. While we had the spare filters and tools,
unplanned pit-stop number three into Pt. Judith, Rhode Island, was required
for calm conditions and a borrowed bucket.
We made it well into
Long Island Sound before the C120 started seriously acting up again. That’s
when Thiel’s sunny disposition—and confidence in the machine—also
crashed. Words were spoken, and for an instant I pictured him chucking
the MFD right over the stern. Now, truth be told, what really darkened
the mood was not so much the C120 as hitting some unidentified object
that felt like it had bent the prop and/or rudder. We did a slow shimmy
into Clinton, Connecticut, where we at least got to grumble over good
food and drink. We lamented the “between a rock and a hard place”
state of marine electronics. While the Furuno and Garmin had performed
solidly, each was indeed limited in various ways. For instance, both were
too bright at night (whereas the C120 has sterling brightness control).
And neither of us was surprised that various older sensors like the depth
transducer were worse than limited. On the other hand, the “latest
and greatest” didn’t inspire confidence, either, seeming to
suffer from the same Version 1.0 unreliability we became all too familiar
with during the evolution of PCs.
In fact, we later learned
that Raymarine had already fixed the reset problem, attributed to a PC-sounding
“too many polygons” issue and largely limited to machines running
the New England XL3 card. Thiel received an updated card and made friends
again with his MFD, which got properly mounted front and center, eventually
to be inset in cherry. The Garmin’s already been eBay-ed to a guy
in Alaska, and while Thiel will likely let the C Series mature a bit before
superceding the Furuno toaster oven (which performs flawlessly), I’m
sure that a strikingly neat and functional helm will ultimately be achieved.
But back in Clinton
it was a couple of mopey guys who watched Ava T. get hauled that
last morning, only to discover that whatever had caught in the running
gear was gone, no great damage done. Spirits lifted, bodies finally rested,
the last leg to Stratford was gleeful, even as the Cummins hinted at more
filter problems. When Ava T. conked out just 300 yards from her
slip, it seemed the perfectly ironic conclusion to a voyage that had been
challenging and instructive, yet somehow a boatload of fun. When the yard
guys showed up in their towing skiff, we were laughing so hard we had
a hard time handling our lines.
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