I recently bought a 12′ boat and trailer.
The boat’s a 1976 model: I plan to refurbish it when the weather cools down a little. The trailer, however, is from 2002 and appeared to be in good shape when I brought it home.
However, since my total experience with trailers up to that point had been living in a single-wide with my parents and brothers as a kid, my opinion of its condition really wasn’t worth much.
In the days and weeks to follow, I would learn more…much more…
Once safely at home, I gave both boat and trailer the sort of carefully detailed inspection that your expert buyers perform BEFORE they lay down their hard-earned cash.
Right off the bat I noticed that one of the taillights was out; furthermore, the red plastic cover was broken.
Upon closer investigation I discovered that the bulb on that side was bad. I deduced that the broken cover had allowed water to flow in, which eventually caused the bulb to fail. Or maybe it just died a natural death: that’s the nature of incandescent bulbs, after all.
Rather than replace the bulb, I decided to upgrade and ordered this LED light kit. In addition to new lights, it came with a new license plate bracket and enough wire to completely rewire the trailer.
(note: this is an Amazon affiliate link, which means that if you click the link and buy the associated product, Amazon pays me a fee–your cost is unaffected)
The LEDs went on with no drama. I did drill holes in the trailer frame to allow better grounding points for the yellow side clearance lights.
The old license plate bracket was cracked, so I replaced it with the new one from the kit.
I didn’t plan to mess with the trailer wiring, but after looking at the insulation on the old wire I decided to replace it.
However, I was at a loss for how to thread the new wire through the 3″x3″ box steel that made up the tongue of the trailer–I didn’t want to just clamp the wire onto the side.
Inspiration struck: I tied the ends of the new wire to the ends of the old and pulled the new wire through the frame. I had a bad moment when one of the four wires pulled loose at the very end, but it was close enough that I could reach in with a pair of forceps and pull it the rest of the way through.
It wasn’t until later that it occurred to me that I could’ve used flexible wire conduit–the stuff they use on your car–to push the wire through the frame AND provide better protection from sharp edges, etc.
Next time–although I hope there isn’t a “next time”*–I’ll use the conduit. I ended up ordering some anyway to protect the amateurish-looking wire bundle I ended up with at the front end of the trailer.
*Note: there WAS a next time
The connectors provided with the light kit didn’t seem particularly robust, so I followed a hot tip I found online and used cable ties, clipped close, to hold the wires together an inch or two from the connection, then used the hardware from the kit.
This protects the connection from pulling apart, even if the wires are under tension.
I used heat-shrink tubing from Harbor Freight to protect all of the exposed connections. While at Harbor Freight I broke down and bought an inexpensive heat gun instead of borrowing a hair dryer like I usually do.
I’m surprised how often I’ve used it since (the heat gun–I lack the wherewithal to get much use out of a hair dryer).
Finally, I sealed all connections with liquid electrical tape. Probably overkill, but I figured since they’d get wet…
Next I wanted to check the wheel bearings: I dimly remember my dad insisting that those be carefully maintained. After a cursory search I was unable to find anyone close who would service them for me, so I reluctantly decided do it myself.
After careful online research (i.e., half a dozen YouTube videos and an extremely helpful post on etrailer.com), I ordered some NLGI #2 marine grease and got to work.
After removing the tires, the first thing I encountered was a “Bearing Buddy” installed on each wheel hub.
I’d never heard of this thing, but it replaces the normal dust cap (see illustration below). You squirt grease into the fitting to keep the Bearing Buddy topped off, which in turn pushes fresh grease into the wheel bearings under spring tension. It’s also supposed to eliminate air pockets and keep water out.
It fits tightly into the wheel hub, so you remove it by tapping it side to side with a mallet until it falls off.
This exposes the axle (or “castle”) nut that holds the wheel on. Just locate the Cotter pin–it’ll be covered in old grease–pull it out, unscrew the nut, remove the spindle washer, and pull the hub off off the axle.
The outer bearing may fall out at this point, so unless you possess lightning reflexes you’ll want to lay out a piece of cardboard for it to land on.
The inner bearing will stay in the hub, held in place by the seal.
Although you could use this guy’s method to remove the grease seal without damaging it (I drifted mine out with a 1″ nylon cylinder), you may as well just pry it out with a screwdriver or a pair of channel locks.
Old seals are more likely to fail, letting grease out and water in. Since they’re relatively inexpensive for such an important part, I’d just plan on replacing them.
Remove the inner bearing from the hub, then it’s time for cleanup.
I carried all the parts into the garage and tossed them into a tub of Simple Green to soak the grease off. I remember siphoning gas as a kid to wash bearings in, which probably constitutes felony child abuse now.
Unlike gasoline, Simple Green is supposed to be nontoxic but a smart person would don gloves and eye protection before the next step, which is scrubbing the parts with a small brush and wiping them clean.
I found one of my bearings–I failed to keep track of which was which during cleaning–showed some pitting/signs of wear, and one of my grease seals was damaged.
After cleaning the hubs it was time to look closely at the races. Three were good but one–the left outer race–was also slightly pitted and scored.
I assumed that this damage corresponded to the bad bearing, both probably caused by the bad grease seal on that side. After noting the part numbers (L44649 for the bearings; L44610 for the races) I decided to make a run to Auto Zone to buy replacement races, seals, and bearings for both sides.
Before I left I went out to measure the diameter on the spindle. Since it’s a straight spindle, the inner and outer bearings on each wheel are the same size–I just wanted to make doubly sure I got the RIGHT size. The parts numbers led me to expect a 1 and 1/16th” spindle.
After wiping down the spindles I noticed that one was bright and shiny, almost like chrome. The other was scored and pitted, to the point where I wasn’t getting consistent measurements. The scoring underneath the spindle was deep enough to catch on my fingernail.
A couple of my brothers have extensive boat trailer experience so I sent pictures and asked for their learned opinions.
The response was quick and unequivocal: “replace that BEFORE you go on any long trips.” Since the closest lake is 45 minutes away, I went back inside to order a new spindle.
Turns out you can order a new spindle easily enough: the hard part is removing the old one without damaging the axle, then welding the new one in, perfectly straight. Lacking welding equipment–as well as the most rudimentary welding skills–I called a local trailer expert.
He told me the steel for an axle like this is expensive and difficult to find. I expected to pay a premium for skilled labor, but in this case the cost of parts drove his quote for a custom axle north of $300, or about a fifth of what the whole boat and trailer outfit cost in the first place.
I went back online and found that the fine folks at Eastern Marine in Delaware (the aptly-named “Trailer Parts Superstore“) had one factory replacement axle left in stock for $102.75. As you can imagine, I jumped on it. Another half C or so for shipping, and a few days later I had a new axle in hand. It was well-wrapped and arrived in mint condition.
After we drug the boat off of the trailer, it was child’s play to remove eight nuts from the u-bolts and swap the axles.
After carefully checking the u-bolts for wear, I sprayed them and the leaf springs with a generous coat of WD-40.
Having finally picked up the replacement bearing races, bearings, and seals, it was time to get the wheels back on.
First I needed to remove the old races from the hubs. Since I wasn’t going to reuse them, I didn’t mind if they were nicked or marred in the process. My initial plan was to drive them out using the blade of a screw driver as a punch, tapping on the handle with a framing hammer.
No dice. After 15 minutes’ frustration I sprayed everything with WD-40 and went back to work, this time with a steel punch and a 5 pound sledge hammer. MUCH better.
I cleaned the inner hubs then set out to install new races.
I started the first one in evenly using a flat piece of wood. Then I used a small brass punch–brass so as not to mar the steel surface of the race–gently tapping with a framing hammer, moving around the circumference of the race to make sure it went in evenly.
Hmmm. No movement at all. Time to try a bigger hammer.
After half an hour’s pounding with the five-pound sledge I’d gotten a heck of a forearm workout: meanwhile, the race wasn’t even halfway seated. I’d had to grind down the soft brass face of the punch several times to keep it flat: pretty soon it–and I–would be worn to a nub.
It was clearly time for harsher measures.
Next I used a 13/16″ socket (the largest I owned) mounted on a 3″ drive extension as a punch. This was a risky proposition: one slip with the socket and the tool steel would mar the face of the bearing race, ruining it.
It worked well, although the fear of slipping made it awfully hard on the nerves.
I ended up using a method I should’ve started with: using an old race as a punch. I’d seen this technique in the YouTube video I linked above.
It worked like a champ.
The sacrificial race wanted to get stuck in the hub the first time I used it, but the Dremel cut I’d made in it (see below) allowed it to compress a little so I could tap it out. Thereafter it went in and came out of the hub easily.
I saved the cut race: I’m hoping I can use it with my new arbor press to seat races next time!
Greasing the bearings was uneventful: I put a half-golfball-sized blob of marine grease in the palm of my (gloved) hand, then scraped the new bearing across the grease, driving it up into the bearing, just like in the video. I worked my way around the bearing, then turned it over and did the other side.
I tossed two (outer) bearings into a ziplock bag so the grease wouldn’t collect dirt and grit. I put the other (inner) bearings into the hubs.
Having filled the undersides of the seals with grease, I started them with a flat piece of wood, then tapped them flush into the hub.
I carried everything back out to the trailer and wiped off the axle spindles. I put copious amounts of grease into the wheel hubs, then slid them back onto the spindles.
I replaced the outer bearings, spindle washers–scored side in–and tightened the axle nut to 30 foot-lbs (“snug” if you don’t have a torque wrench), then backed it off just enough to line up the Cotter pin hole with the next gap in the nut.
The wheel should spin freely, with just a little back and forth play. If not, back off the axle nut further to align the next gap with the Cotter pin hole. When you’re happy, put the new Cotter pin in and bend it so it doesn’t rub on the dust cap–or in my case, on the Bearing Buddy.
Whichever you have, dust cap or Bearing Buddy, fill it with grease and tap it into place in the hub, starting it with a flat piece of wood then working your way around its circumference with a mallet.
If you have a Bearing Buddy, pump grease–the same kind you’ve been using–into the fitting until you see the piston inside the Bearing Buddy start to move out against the spring, then replace the rubber cap.
I checked the tires at 55-60 psi. Although it was printed on the sidewall, I was skeptical whether those bitty little tires were actually supposed to be inflated that high.
The internet says yes, that’s correct.
(I was still afraid they’d explode)
I sprayed Armor All Tire Foam to protect the rubber from the Arizona sun (and for pretty), then reinstalled the tires.
When I took them off I’d cursed the jerk who’d used an air impact wrench set on max, but it turns out the recommended torque for those lug nuts is damned stiff: 80 foot-pounds for my five lug, 13″ wheels.
The first time I’d taken the boat off the trailer, I noticed that the boat had been scraping the trailer frame during launch and recovery (see photo, above).
I also saw that the bunks–the cloth-covered 2″x4″s the boat rests on–were worn and partially held on by rope. Finally, I noticed that the bow winch strap showed signs of wear and tear.
At this point I decided “in for a penny, in for a pound” and ordered an aft keel roller and u-bolts, marine carpet for the bunks, and a new winch strap.
After cutting and painting new pressure-treated** 2″x4″s for the bunks, I used this guy’s technique to staple the carpet on, then installed the new bunks on the trailer.
**Note: I subsequently learned that using pressure-treated lumber is a bad idea. It can corrode aluminum–use regular 2″x4″s! I have Teflon sliders on those bunks now and the hull paint is holding up well, but I’m keeping a close eye on them…
The keel roller required a little bit of filing to make the slots in the base line up with the outer edges of the 3″x3″ trailer frame. I sawed off the last few inches of the u-bolts to keep them from sticking out too far.
I threaded the new strap onto the winch, then decided it was about 6′ too long–the rolled-up strap was too big for the reel. I took it back off, cut off the excess, melted the cut end with a lighter, and sewed a new loop in the end with a big needle and some waxed thread.
I compensated for my lack of sewing skill by stitching three heavy rows across the end of the strap, then coating the repairs with bowstring wax. The result is ugly in the extreme but I’m confident it’ll never break loose.
Besides, the ugly bit is hidden inside the coiled strap.
Once all this was done, I bought a couple of cans of Rust-Oleum white Automotive Touch Up paint, applied masking tape as needed, and hit the trailer with two light coats.
Having registered the trailer after only two visits to the MVD (the title wasn’t notarized the first time), I had new plates. I discovered that my car insurance policy DID NOT cover damage I might cause with the trailer, so I called a friend for a quote on a boat and trailer liability policy.
Whatever your rate, you can generally get a break if you take a boating safety course approved in your state.
The last chore was to adjust how the boat sits on the trailer: the weight is supposed to be on the bunks, not the keel roller or tongue crossbar.
We put the boat back on, then I moved the bunks up an inch at each end to correct the fit.
I doubled the hull tiedowns and, on my brother’s advice, added a backup bow tiedown (in case the bow winch fails), then took the whole thing out for a road test.
I learned that it’s a good idea to put the vehicle-side plug cover back on between uses because accumulated dirt and debris can block the contacts, causing your lights to intermittently fail.
Save yourself the frustration and put one on the trailer side, too.
However, the trailer took interstate speeds in stride AND I was able to back it into the yard again without knocking down the fence, so I claimed victory and called the trailer refurbishment project complete.
