The Earth Moved Last Night

Okay, so maybe not the Earth exactly. It was more like the flywheel on my boat. But it was momentous nonetheless.

You see, in August, after my Waverunner died its second untimely death of the summer, I dragged the heap home so that I could work on it over the winter. I was able to patch up some of the broken internal fiberglass mounts for the waterbox, repair the gas tank mounts, and replace the primary coil and ignition wires. Everything was going pretty well except that it still wouldn’t generate a consistent spark. Some special alone time with a tech manual and a multimeter revealed that I still had a bad pulsar coil. But pretty much everything else seemed good to go. In other words, simply replacing the pulsar coil should get this baby started again and back in the water. This was in November.

The pulsar coil is located on the stator plate, conveniently located behind the flywheel. So I needed to open up the front of the engine and pull the flywheel. Sounds simple enough. However, the flywheel would not friggin’ budge. I’d broken my gear puller multiple times. I’d even built two different rigs which allowed me to use a 2 ton bottle jack as a hydraulic press. The result being that I crushed both rigs, but had not moved the flywheel one bloody bit.

So for the last month or so, I’ve had the gear puller cranked up tight and every day or so I go by and whack on it with a 3# hammer, soak it in penetrating oil, or heat it with the torch for awhile. Depending on the mood I’m in… I like to mix it up. The theory being that the constant pressure on the flywheel might eventually cause it to give way. And last night it moved. It only moved maybe a 1/4″, but it moved. Unfortunately, I broke the damn puller again, so it’s back to the hardware store. But the fact that it moved at all means (I think) that this is at least doable.

One way or another, that puppy’s going back in the water. If not as a running watercraft, then my kids can tie my corpse to it, float it into the lake, and light it afire for my Viking funeral. In the meantime, it’s a source of amusement for everyone else in the family.

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