The Lower Unit Blues

I wouldn’t consider myself a nautical man, though growing up fairly close to a lot of really nice lakes, I was able to go fishing, tubing, and water skiing every now and then. These are all things I still enjoy though this type of hobby generally requires a boat. My grandfather gave me a fishing boat many years ago and while that doesn’t need much maintenance, I do use my step-mother Kathy’s boat once or twice a summer and that’s a different story.

The boat & its lower unit

The boat is a 1994 Starcraft 1700 with a 90 HP Mercury 2-stroke engine. It’s large enough to carry six people comfortably and pull a tube around the lake. She bought the boat used in 2016 and it had obviously not seen a whole lot use or maintenance in the preceding years, so I decided to help out with what little maintenance I could, which basically involved changing the oil in the lower unit.

Now for those of you who are even less nautical than me, the lower unit is a gear box that transmits power from the engine to the propeller. Technically, it can be called a transmission, but that doesn’t really apply because it only has two gears—forward and reverse—and there isn’t any sort of complicated clutching system involved to change the gears. It’s basically a gear box, which tends to be extremely reliable and would have a super long life if it wasn’t for the environment in which it has to operate—underwater.

The water blues

As you might have guessed, water contamination is a major problem with these units and when I changed the oil in Kathy’s boat, I could tell that water was getting in.

Now, you don’t have to have worked at an oil lab for 20+ years to know what serious water contamination looks like. Think milkshake, with the main color being whatever the color of the oil was to start with. When an oil with red dye gets water in it, it tends to look like strawberry milkshake. If the oil starts out blue, you end up with a blueberry milkshake. Start with brown oil and you get chocolate.

So the very first time I changed it, I grabbed a sample as the oil was draining out to see how bad the water contamination was (see Figure 1).

Oil from the lower unit, showing a clear separation between the oil and a layer of water contamination

Figure 1: Not good

Here at the lab, even though an oil might obviously have water in it, we don’t just use the color to make that call; we use an actual ASTM method to identify water. The test is called the “crackle test.”

For that, you drop a small amount of oil onto something hot (400°F) like a brass cup, and if the oil sizzles/crackles, then yes you have water. (We get the percentage from the insolubles test but that’s another matter.) If you are crunched for time and can’t send your oil in to us, you can actually do this test at home in your kitchen using an old pan. Just don’t cook up a batch of eggs on it afterwards.

The good thing about lower units is, if you keep the oil changed and no water is getting in, they will last for a very long time. And if water is getting in, frequent oil changes will keep any damage to a minimum. However, if you neglect one that does have water leaking in, the water will cause the steel parts to rust and that will allow for all kinds of bad things to happen. In my situation, I knew the lower unit in Kathy’s boat was letting water in and that something should have been done about it, but life got in the way.

Live & learn (and hopefully don’t wreck)

So this year, when I went to try to put it in the lake I got quite the surprise when I found it the motor would not shift out of forward. Of course, I didn’t know this until I was trying to back the boat away from the boat trailer at the ramp. Needless to say, I was very confused as to why the boat was going forward when I had it in reverse, and Kathy was even more confused (and profane) when she thought the boat was going to end up in the bed of her truck. I did start the engine prior to heading to the lake and it was running like a champ. I just didn’t think to check to see if the motor would go into reverse, or even shift at all. Live and learn.

So now the lower unit is in a partial state of disassembly in my garage, and let me tell you—nothing is a sadder sight in the middle of boating season. I find myself struggling with shame and regret about not having changed oil in it sooner, or better yet, just fixed the seal that was letting water in in the first place. My only hope is that you don’t let the same thing happen to you. Change that lower unit oil and sleep easy at night. Meanwhile, I’ll be learning the real meaning of the word boat – Bust Out Another Thousand!

By |2024-06-04T14:55:42-04:00July 28, 2023|Articles, Marine|Comments Off on The Lower Unit Blues

Protecting from Corrosion

Considering the relative inactivity of much of the general aviation fleet, it’s not surprising that corrosion is a hot topic. It’s also fodder for aviation oil makers to claim their oil is better than others at protecting engine parts from corrosion.

The frustrating thing when you can’t find the time to go flying is, your beautiful bird is languishing alone in a dark hangar accumulating rust on its parts and dust and bird doo on its wings. What to do?

If you can’t fly it, you don’t want to just ground-run the engine since it’s pretty well accepted that doing so may cause more harm than good. In the end, the path most often chosen is to “leave her sit.” But that’s the maddening part. You just know that corrosion has begun at the cylinders, cam, and lifters, as well as all the other parts that are parked above the engine’s oil level. “Dammit! Maybe I should go out and shoot some landings.” But you don’t. So the question still stands…what to do?

We get a lot of questions about which oil protects aircraft engines best from corrosion. If there were a sure answer as to which oil is best, someone would surely have come up with it. Since they haven’t, perhaps we should reconsider the question. Maybe what we should be asking is, “What can I do to prevent corrosion in my (not flown frequently enough) aircraft engine, regardless of the oil I use?”

Turned around that way, there may be an answer.

Water orbs

Oil and water don’t mix at the atomic level. Since there is no such thing as dry oil — both hot and cold oil suck moisture from the air like a sponge — the only way these dissimilar types of matter can coexist is for the moisture to ball itself up into minute spheres, so tiny that they can exist in suspension. If the water orbs get large enough they will precipitate, that is, fall out of suspension. But there is almost no limit to how tiny they can be. The longer the oil sits undisturbed, the more water it will accumulate.

Oil routinely has some moisture in it, usually at levels between 40–400 ppm. In amounts greater than that, it can start to make your oil look like chicken gravy. Once moisture sets in, heat and/or pressure are the only way to get it out. If you go out and fly for an hour, the oil temperature and agitation will dismiss the moisture droplets like unruly elementary students. The moisture accumulation process will start all over again once you pull idle cut-off, but at least you have the satisfaction of knowing that, at least for now, the fine film of oil clinging to the metal parts is not heavily populated with tiny balls of water.

Fighting corrosion

After you lock the hangar door, the dry (well, reasonably so) oil film doesn’t last long on all those parts that are parked about the oil level. If your engine is a dry-sump type, none of the parts are parked in an oil bath.

If you can’t fly, you might consider using a pre-oiler once a week to rebathe all the parts in oil. The oil from the pre-oiler will reach all parts that see oil pressure during engine operation. It would require only turning on the master and the oiler switch for a short while, no longer than it takes to check the lights and flaps during a preflight, a few minutes at most. The oil should reach all the way up into the rocker boxes and then drain to form a brief pool over the tappets and cam, parts that are notoriously prone to corrosion pitting in all but the most active engines.

After the pre-oiling dose, you could get out and pull the prop through a few blades (normal direction of rotation, of course) to ensure all moving parts rotate through a couple of full cycles. Further, you will be giving all the rod bearings an oily trip through the sump reservoir, for wet sump engines. (Some people are queasy about touching the prop, so running the starter is an acceptable alternative, if you have confidence in the integrity of the battery.)

Cold dousing all oil-wetted parts isn’t nearly as good as an hour’s flight, but it seems far superior to the ground run-up, or the more often chosen “letting her sit.”

By |2024-09-18T13:48:37-04:00July 18, 2023|Aircraft, Articles|Comments Off on Protecting from Corrosion
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