A SibLim Update

It's fully three months since I've posted.  Those who are frustrated by my lack of updates here, can find more recent postings on the Junk Rig Association website here.  I try to post there once a week, 'try' being the operative word.

Anyway, stand by for a l-o-n-g post with heaps of photographs.

Last time I wrote, I was still planking up the hull.  This gave me a fair share of grief around the bow, but I'm pleased to say I got it sorted out in the end:

20 July - I rejoiced somewhat prematurely. Preparing the hull for glassing, I noticed several voids behind the 2nd layer 6mm. The shape is just too compound for such a big piece of ply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I routed out the worst of the plywood and then drilled several rows of 8mm holes, 1.5 diagonally below. Injected resin, filling the holes as they overflowed with dowels and toothpicks!  The replaced pieces of ply. All seems very sound and solid now, but it cost me the best part of a week. (I faffed around for a day, deciding what approach to take to solve the problem.)

22 Jul I don't want metal fastenings in the boat, but like the idea of 'mechanically' fastening the hull to the stringers and bulkheads (and plywood to itself), so have put dowels at 30cm intervals).

SibLim the pincushion. I dare say the dowels are illogical, but the advantage of being a woman boatbuilder is that everyone knows women are illogical. It makes me feel happier anyway.

In the meantime, I was getting the keel ready.  While the following photos are not in strict chronological order, they show what was required.

14 September.  Once I started building the deadwood, I decided it was time to get the keel sand-blasted.  As soon as that was done, I took my WEST epoxy along and coated it.

I was surprised at its appearance: I expected it to be silver and shiny; in fact it looked as though it had been sprayed with a grey primer.

  







 




Because the boat will dry out often, and the steel is corrosion resistant anyway, I decided not to bother getting the bottom blasted. Any coating would just get scraped off.
 

I had perfect conditions. A warm, dry day following a chilly night, so the metal was cold, which stopped the epoxy kicking off too quickly. I could get away with fast hardener.

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 The epoxy brushed on perfectly. The sand-blaster operator kindly let me leave it there overnight to harden.

 

15 September. When Kevin brought the keel back, he asked if I'd in fact asked the people to spray paint it. "No, I did it with a 2 inch brush!"

 

WEST Epoxy's magical self-levelling properties.

Anyway, the next stage was to get the hull ready to be turned over and attached to the keel.

Meanwhile, back in the the shed, I carried on preparing the hull.  27 July.  After trimming all the plywood, I planed and sanded the chines, and then coated them with neat epoxy, so that when I come to glass, the end grain won't soak up all the epoxy.

1 August.  I tried to get the chine as fair as possible, although once the boat is afloat, I doubt anyone will even notice.

8 August.  All the chines now have glass tape along them, which means that they will end up with two layers of glass.

People appeared to be surprised that I was willing to tackle glassing the hull entirely on my own, but in fact it was one of the few aspects of building the boat that didn't frighten me half to death.  Over the years I have epoxied what seems like acres of fibreglass to plywood!

  





















13 August.  The first piece of glass goes on the bow.

  
















Sometimes, I wish the glass weren't transparent. Here you can easily see where I had to remove plywood and re-plank.

  





















14 August. The bottom has been glassed and that on the bow is just visible. 

17 August.  I actually rather enjoyed doing this job - probably because I felt in control! Here I am about half way along the starboard bilge panel.

 

 

 


   

18 August. My method was to smooth the cut cloth over the plywood and then climb onto the bottom of the boat and tip epoxy along the top of the glass. I used a plastic spreader to get an even coating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

24 August. Glassing the topsides was more tricky and I used a roller to wet out the cloth, following up with the plastic spreader. Rollers are a pain because they soak up epoxy, which quickly sets and before very long I abandoned them for a brush.  This worked perfectly well, anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

30 August. All the glass received an additional two coats of resin. I would coat the previous day's work before putting new glass on.

Glassing the transoms. I'm leaving the lute, for the moment. It will be easier to do when the boat is the right way up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having gone to all the trouble of carefully coating the glassed hull, I now have to flatten it all off to prepare for Coppercoat on the bottom and undercoat on the sides.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

4 September.   The sanding is coming on. I could put gloss paint directly on the topsides, but the sun shines on the forward end of the boat, so I will put on undercoat to protect the epoxy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5 September. Marcus helped me mark the shape for the deadwood. He's much better at standing on a slippery slope than I am!

 

If the hull is going to sit nicely on the keel, then I have to be sure that the deadwood is truly horizontal.
 

6 September. It took two of us to mark the bottom of the boat: I stood on a ladder and checked the square was vertical while Marcus made a mark.

We used the 'nose' pattern made for the keel, to mark to where the deadwood will extend.
 

7 September.  I bought a load of saligna (Queensland blue gum) for the deadwood.  It all had to be thicknessed and is rock hard.  The planer decided it didn't like it and I sent it in for repair.
 

10 September.  I'd spent two days on the thicknesser before it died.  I took the wood to the yard workshop to finish the thicknessing, and they did the job in half an hour!  The next job was to lay it on the pattern and mark out the individual pieces before cutting them to shape. 

After cutting the bevel on the bandsaw, I used the pattern to mark the shape of the various pieces.
 

11 September. I've been lent a big bandsaw by Karl - thanks, Karl.  Heaven knows how I'd have sawn up the wood without it. 

The pieces were getting pretty long as the keel built up.  Because the saligna is so heavy and hard to handle - and tends to be a bit warped, too, I made the later layers from shorter lengths.

12 September.  Building up the deadwood.  Marking, shaping, cutting and then fitting the wood so that everything is true is a slow business.

15 September.  Final shaping takes place on the boat, after each piece is glued in place.  No doubt there will be a big fairing job when it's completed.

 16 September.  The big bandsaw copes well with the saligna, but both planer and saw lose their edge quickly on this timber.  It was still a good buy, but maybe not quite as cheap as it seemed at the time! 

The deadwood took ages because the saligna is so hard: it also contains silica and gums up the blade.  All in all, it's not the easiest wood to work, but some of it looks really rather lovely when it's all planed up.  Cutting scarphs in the 150mm planks would be a big cut on any piece of wood: by the time the bandsaw has cut half a dozen pieces of the saligna, the blade needs changing!

22 September - the wood rasp is a favoured tool for the amateur woodworker. It enables accurate reshaping with a minimum skill level.
 

Slowly but steadily the stack is building up.
 

The thicknesser that I had been using has been pronounced beyond economic repair, so a new one had to be purchased. Second hand ones are rare and expensive.  I hope to sell it at the end of the project and as it comes with a 36 month guarantee, it should still be an attractive proposition. 

25 September: 'just' one more layer to put on the deadwood.

27 September - adding more layers to the deadwood.  Full length, now.
 

The glued wood is ready for the final smoothing and shaping.

28 September - Marcus uses his pattern once again, to shape the forward end of the deadwood.

29 September - the final shape.

 















Deadwood ready for glassing.

29 September - the final stack of deadwood, at the after end.

30 September - the front of the deadwood, glassed and ready for trimming.

1 October - drilling the longest keel bolt, right aft. The bolts are 16mm threaded rod set into the keel. The holes are 25mm and they are oversize so that they can be filled with epoxy, thickened with silica and high-density filler.  The keel is effectively glued to the hull and the keelbolts don't have to do a lot of work.  I used 316 stainless steel: this isn't generally considered good practice, but as there should be no moisture at all around the keel bolts, there should be no problem.  I should be able to remove the occasional keel bolt to check for corrosion, even if the boat is afloat, should I want to.

This last bolt is a long one!

The hole for the keelbolt through one of the floors.

The final job was to fill in all the screw holes left over from gluing up the laminates.

I started actually building the hull on 9th September 2015 and had very much hoped to have it turned over in a year.  (Some people thought that I should have had the boat finished in a year: I was not one of them.  If I finish it in 2 years, I shall be astonished, if I finish it in 3 years, I'll be satisfied.)  From the start, I've been determined not to put pressure on myself and setting myself this target proved the wisdom of my original decision.  The more I realised that the hull was not going to be turned over when I'd hoped, the more stressed I became about the rate of progress.  Generally, when people ask me when I'm going to launch, I reply 'The fifth'.  I should have said 'this year' for the turn over.  However, finally I was ready and the good guys at Norsand Boatyard pulled out all the stops to help me, even though they had plenty of other people clamouring for their time.

In order to make their life easier (and to reduce my final bill), my friend Marcus and I jacked up the boat to over 800mm, which would allow the trailer wheels to go under the beams sticking out at either end of the strongback.

2 October - jacking the hull up.

The strongback lived up to its name, and we moved it up in increments, ensuring that the hull didn't get tilted too much in the process.  Occasionally there was a light creak of protest, but generally it didn't seem to be under too much of a strain.

We used jacks, borrowed from the yard with lots of big lumps of wood to support the beams.

Finally, we were happy with the height

And propped the hull up with a couple of temporary supports.

3rd October.  The trailer was brought round and Kevin look very relieved that we had given its wheels sufficient clearance.

Slowly he manoeuvred it under the strongback - a tricky job with large machines and little clearance.

Once the trailer was in place, the large wheels could be removed and smaller ones substituted, so that the strongback and hull could be lowered onto the trailer itself.

With everything in place, the big wheels had to go back on again.  Normally hydraulics do this, but they were disabled for maintenance.

It's a bit of a nerve-wracking business, if you're not used to using jacks, but the slipway team are nothing if not professional.

Then Kevin moved the keel round, positioning it next to where the hull would be, so that the crane could move it the following day.
 

The keel was placed on a big steel beam and a hefty wooden one, placed on crib blocks.  The plan is for these to be used under the boat as I continue to fit it out.

The hull was then moved round and the strongback lowered on to crib blocks.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then the hull was ready to be turned over, waiting overnight for the crane.

 

4 October - It had rained overnight and I was worried that the keel wouldn't dry out in time. Fortunately when the crane arrived at 0945, the sun had come out.  It looked awfully small for turning the hull over.

My job was to spread epoxy thickened with silica and high density filler on the keel. It kept me fully occupied. Just as well: watching a year's work dangling in the air was terrifying! 

The strops were attached to the crane and then pulled under the hull.

Then the jib was boomed out, lowered and the strops attached from the other side.
 

Two hooks were being used for this operation, so that the hull could be rolled over. Now the second one was hauled up to take the load.

Slowly the hull was lifted up. Neighbouring boatie, John, was asked to take photos: I was too busy mixing epoxy. Thanks, John.

 














With the boat not far above the strongback, the crane driver started manoeuvring his hooks so that the strops were alternately slackened and tightened. The hull started to roll over.

Tony, refitting a boat in the next shed, came to join in the fun. It was mercifully calm, but he was interested to note how easily the swinging about of the hull could be controlled with just one hand.

Then the hull was nearly on its side. 

In a few moments, the hull was past the half way point.

The slings were crossing the deadwood, so it was necessary to put the hull down on a couple of blocks of wood, so that they could be moved.

As the hull levelled out, it settled on the deadwood.

The hull sat happily while the strops were taken out.

Tony and Marcus decided some props should be put under the bilge panel, but they proved unnecessary and, in fact, fell out.

Tony with another prop.

'Come ON!" The strops are back in place, adjusted and the hull waits to be placed on the keel. I am still frantically spreading epoxy. The whole business took very little time. 

  















With the glue finally spread, the hull was swung over the keel. About 725 kg, Gary reckoned, which is what I'd estimated.

The aftermost keel bolt is the longest and it was very easy to locate the keel over this so that the rest would line up. 

The other holes line up in a most satisfactory manner. (But it must be said that one advantage of the Gougeon Bros method is that the holes are over size!)
 

 

The glue oozed out in most places as planned. One or two gaps that were showing, filled up when I poured epoxy into the holes around the keel bolts.

Less than 45 minutes after the crane arrived, I was cleaning up excess epoxy from the keel. 

Gary let go the strops, tidied everything away and was ready to leave before I'd even finished scraping up.  Who would have thought something that had caused me so much worry would be such a quick, easy and painless operation?  (All right, I know ... most people!)

I climbed on board and had a gloat.  Then I wandered around looking at my creation from all angles.  Then I noticed dark clouds rapidly approaching ... So my intention to take lots of photos of the hull the right side up was thwarted by the necessity to get a cover over the hull as quickly as possible.

And it was as well we did, because the rain soon came.

5 October.  I was delighted when Kevin made the effort, the following day, to fit me in so that SibLim could go back in the shed.  Despite the cover, some rain had already got inside the hull and although it would dry out soon enough, I didn't really want water filling up the places that hadn't been finally sealed.
 

As ever, Kevin went to a huge amount of trouble to ensure that everything was as it should be.  I shall, however, try to remember to check regularly, that the boat hasn't settled unevenly, over the next few months.

With only Marcus and me to help, I didn't have much time to take photos, but it was a replay of Tuesday, in reverse.
 

With a frame to support the stern, the hull could be left with the minimum of propping, which will make it much easier for painting, fitting the rubbing strakes, etc.

 

Then I threw a party: all those who have shown interest in the building of SibLim were invited. There was heaps to eat and drink and a lot of great people to help celebrate.

Then it was back to work.  I decided to work from fore to aft, checking that all the woodwork is properly coated with epoxy.  Then I need to put filled epoxy along all the stringers and alongside the chine logs.  There is nothing like longitudinal pieces of wood to provide crevices for damp and dirt to lurk.  Tedious work, but it will give me time to get a sense of the boat's interior and how the accommodation is going to work.

11 October.  One of the first jobs I did was roughly to cut out the excess bow. There will be two bow rollers - one for anchoring and one, generally, for mooring - well apart from each other.  The anchor roller will have a chain pawl, which makes it awkward to take the anchor off.  With this method, I can use the second roller for the occasions when I pick up a mooring and, I hope, the anchor and mooring warp won't interfere with each other.
 

This is a view down the centreline of the boat, from sitting perched up on the lute stern.  The panelled bulkhead is at the forward end of the saloon.

12 October.  Where the bow met the bottom of the boat was very messy, as a result of the difficulties of bending the plywood, where the stringers and chine log met the bow, etc. I flooded where everything met with epoxy and fillers and sanded it all.  This photo shows the forward part of the forepeak under the foredeck.  The deck will seal all this area off entirely, so I'm concerned to ensure that it's all properly sealed.

14 October.  I had to move from forepeak to sleeping cabin so that I could avoid damaging wet epoxy.  While I'm quite happy, by and large, with the scarphs, they still need filling and fairing.

I filled where the wood was damaged and screw holes, filletted stringers and bulkheads, and put 3 more coats of resin on everything.  I worked from the port after section, which is why it's still not completed in this photo.  The after section is going to be the anchor locker, the floor of which will be at chine log level, self draining.  Again, the area underneath will be sealed, although I will probably incorporate access hatches.

 

All this filleting and sealing will take some time; I'm looking forward to starting on the accommodation. 

 

 

Planked up!

It's about six weeks since I last wrote - time is a precious commodity when building a boat on your own, especially when you are as slow as I am.  If you want to see what's happening more regularly, I try to update weekly on the Junk Rig Association Technical Forum under various headings.  The latest info can be found here.

Anyway, here is a 'photo essay' of the past few week's work.

As time went by, it became increasingly difficult to find anything to clamp to.  The bilge board cases were a useful exception to this rule!

The plywood on the bilge panels, overlapped the bottom of the boat.  It was getting a bit difficult to line the next one up, as I got further forward, so I got out the power planer and trimmed the surplus wood back.  This machine scares the wits out of me - it's so easy to cause serious damage with it, but I'm getting a little more confident with it.

I decided to fit the panels outboard of the bilge board cases separately.  After all, it was framed all round, so they would be well secured.  Shaping a partial scarph was tricky, but I've been lent a beautiful chisel which helped me get it accurate.

Most of the bilge board case is now closed in.  Underneath the piece under the clamp there is a completely enclosed space, with, presently, no access.  In theory, there is no need ever to access this space: all the plywood and cedar are heavily coated with epoxy resin, but I will probably fit a small hatch, just so that I can check that nothing untoward is going on.

Towards the bow there is too much shape to plank up with 12mm panels.  The 6mm that I used are almost full sheets - 1200 x 2500mm - and a bit of a handful.  But at least they are not particularly heavy, unlike the 12mm, which are really at my limits for lugging about.  A sheet of plywood, on edge, comes up to my shoulders, so lifting them around can be a problem.  Even the 6mm was a real pain to fit - on, off, on, off - so it was a relief to find that I could use the piece from one side as a pattern for the other.  I'm actually rather proud of this because it means the hull is symmetrical.

This was a particularly tricky sheet to fit on my own.  I used Bruno's pegs to locate it along the bottom and put a couple of clamps on the bulkheads to rest it on, until I could climb up onto a saw horse and get a couple of screws in.

Here is the first sheet of 6mm plywood fitted.  It is notched about two-thirds of the way along.  This is because as the chine flattens, the scarph would end up excessively wide where it meets the side panel.  Marcus, from the SibLim Club - a qualified boatbuilder - helped me with this part of the job.  He did in 3 hours what would probably have taken me 3 weeks - and undoubtedly did it a lot better, too.

Here I am precoating the plywood, before fitting the next sheet of plywood.  You can clearly see the inside of the sleeping cabin here. 

This is the photo of the forward end of the sleeping cabin.  I love the appearance of the kauri panelling. 

Shaping the final piece of plywood to fit at the bow.  I have bought a couple of Japanese pull saws and find them a lot easier to use than Western style.  They are so fast that I often use one instead of a jigsaw.  The one in the photo has a wonderfully flexible blade which also allows me to use it along curves, too.  When I use a jigsaw, I invariably have to plane the wood afterwards, but not with one of these hand saws.

This photo is taken with the camera lying back down on the strong back, looking up into the bow.  This will, of course, be the bottom when the boat is right side up.  I cleaned it up as well as I could, but once the boat is turned over, I shall pour epoxy thickened with high-density filler, into the very bottom of the boat to seal any voids and leave a smooth surface.  This very forward section of the bow will be empty.  Again, I shall probably fit an access hatch so that I can check that there are no issues over the years.

I had hoped to staple the two layers of 6mm ply together, but when I attempted to fit them, the twist of the bow was forcing the middle of the sheet away from the one below.  In the end, I had to screw from the middle diagonally up and down to get it flat.  The boat looks like a sieve and, very disappointingly, the screw points have gone through the coating on the inside.  Once she's turned over, it will have to be sanded and coated again.  However, there was not alternative solution and at least I'm sure the two sheets of ply are securely joined.

For once the gods smiled and the offcut from the full sheet fitted - just - the triangle left at the top.  By now I'd given up worrying about holes through the inside layer!

I am getting a lot better about using my power plane: here I'm making the scarph on the final sheet of 6 mm plywood.  The trouble with being an apprentice boatbuilder is by the time you are comfortable with a new skill, you don't need it any more!  (Although I dare say there will be one or two scarphs in the deck.)

The two final bow pieces: one precoated.  Precoating the plywood before putting the thickened epoxy on it might seem painfully pedantic, but the okoume (gaboon) plywood sometimes soaks up epoxy like blotting paper.  I'd rather waste some from drips than spend the rest of my life worrying that there are areas where there was insufficient glue to make a good bond.

And there we are: one completely closed-in hull.  I am very proud of what I have achieved and very pleased that it looks so symmetrical.  I just love that junk bow!

One of the reasons that I wanted to avoid screws was because all those holes need filling.  When the plywood is horizontal, it's not too much of an issue: you can make a fairly soft mix and force it in to the hole, but on a steep slope it's more difficult.  Too soft and it will drain out, too thick and it may not get to the bottom of the holes.  In the end I decided to use wooden pegs - trunells - and found large matches to be ideal.  As they are square in section, air can escape while you tap them in.  Dip in a thin slurry of epoxy and microfibres and stick them in the holes.  One swipe of my little saw knocks them off once the glue is cured.  I intended to recycle them, but the bits of glue still stuck on got in the way and even I can afford another box of matches!!

This is a photo as at yesterday.  You can see that all the overhanging ply has been trimmed off and I am longboarding the chines to get them sharp and fair.  Then they will be rounded over, ready for bi-axial glass tape, before the whole hull is faired.

In the meantime, the keel has been taking shape.  It consists of three layers of 50mm steel.  It is a special alloy, used for bridges and decorative steelwork, with additives to reduce corrosion.  Supposedly it is guaranteed for 50 years!  Long enough for me.  Murray Wilkinson, who owns Norsand, where I'm building SibLim, arranged to purchase the steel and then, even more obligingly, organised getting them cut to shape. 

The pieces of steel returned from being cut.  One of them has a distinct twist in the tail.

My friend Marcus wanted to make the pattern for the forward end of the keel, having very strong opinions as to how it should be shaped!  He thicknessed pine to the same depth as the steel, glued it up and then screwed the three layers together.  He then carefully shaped it all as one piece.  Once he was happy with it, it was unscrewed and handed to Kevin and Anton as a pattern.  It will also be used for me to help shape the deadwood along the bottom of the boat, to which the keel will be attached.

Anton picked up the steel and drove it around to the half round workshop where it was to be shaped.

It was tacked together and then Anton went to work shaping the bow, with Kevin checking that all the details were to his satisfaction.

Anton applied heat about a metre away from the after end of the twisted piece and cajoled it into place.  I hate working with metal, myself, but have a huge amount of admiration for people who can get big chunks of the stuff to do their bidding!

As you can see, the three pieces are now in perfect alignment.

The forward end was shaped carefully and Anton came back and marked again for a final finish.  More careful work with the grinder produced a smooth and fair leading edge.

A big hollow in the middle layer of the side had been worked over: a bit of filling with weld and a lot of grinding removed it altogether.

 

 

 

Another Update on SibLim

I thought it's about time I posted a few more photos of progress.  As usual, there are some pics on the Junk Rig Association website.  I've had lots of visitors to the boat shed, who all make very kind comments about how quickly the boat is progressing.  I wish!  However, I never expected it to be a fast process and am pleased with what I've achieved.  My friend Rob, was absolutely invaluable in helping with the bilge panels - sheets of 12mm plywood are a handful for a small person to handle, but has had to leave to go back to Europe. he has been a great member of the SibLim Club.

Another visitor was John Welsford, back from a trip to Chile.  He came to check up on progress and brought me a wonderful present: a Bailey No 3 plane, which he rebuilt from parts.  This is narrower than most planes, which reduces its weight and, as John pointed out, fits my small hand more readily.  It's a delightful tool, but apparently they are not made any more.  Sad.  Many thanks, John.

While I'm working away, particularly when doing rather monotonous tasks like sanding and scraping, my mind is occupied with all sorts of thoughts. One is that I still haven't found a good name for this boat: SibLim (Small Is Beautiful, Less Is More) is a great name for the design, but isn't what I want for my (I hope) beautiful boat.  I'm  afraid I'm a bit of a romantic when it comes to boat names, and don't really like 'clever' ones, or puns - unless they are particularly subtle.  I don't want to call her after an animal again; nor do I want a girl's name, nor a star, nor a character from mythology.  It's all very difficult.

Below is a photo progress report:

With the temporary bulkhead removed, I can see the saloon panelling.

The scarphs land where they land, although it would be nice if they ended up on the bulkhead!

Additional framing around the bilgeboard panels.  This area will be sealed off, so I need to ensure that all the wood is thoroughly coated.  I will undoubtedly fit an access hatch, however, so that I can be sure there is nothing untoward going on.

I'm rather pleased with this scarph!

SibLim update

Every week, I try to post new photographs in my 'albums' on the Junk Rig Association's website. The outfit that hosts our site seems to keep moving the goal posts and what works one month, doesn't work the next.  The last few times I've uploaded photos to said albums, they've appeared in a totally random fashion.  One of my fellow members has suggested a way round this, but the whole thing takes forever, anyway, and I'm simply not prepared to delete all the photos and reload them.  Life is too short - especially when you are building a boat!  So for those of you who have tried to follow progress via the JRA, my apologies.

I didn't write about the wonderful Russell Boating Club's Tall Ships Regatta, that has also become the major junket for the NZ 'chapter' of the JRA.  Suffice it to say that it was excellent.  I only attended for a couple of days - being a busy boatbuilder - and the weather on the evening that I arrived was dire, but I enjoyed the whole event tremendously.  The bad weather had prevented our newest member of the fleet, Blondie from sailing up there (I hope to have some photos of her to show you some time), and Fantail's new owner (did I mention that I'd sold her?) had yet to take her over; neither La Chica nor Shoestring could make it, but we had quite a fleet for all that: Arcadian and Footprints from NZ, Tystie and Zebedee, who despite wearing the red ensign are almost Kiwi boats and Lakatao and Grand PHA from France, each on an extended voyage.  The latter I've already mentioned - Bertrand is a member of the SibLim Club - but I fell madly in love with Lakatao, which, while a Western design (Le Forrestiere) has many characteristics of a Chinese junk:

Her owners, Bruno and Elise are wonderful people and there is always laughter on board.  I found her incredibly inspirational for my own build, although I will never attain the craftsmanship of Bruno.

Back to Whangarei and my boatbuilding.  Because not everyone will want to follow my JRA links, I thought I'd just post a few photos here, so that anyone interested can follow my (glacial) progress.  The good news is that the money is holding out and I always knew that this project would take a long time, regardless of the other people who reckoned I should be able to 'knock it over' in a year.  I'm really enjoying the process, and that's the main thing.

At the end of December, the Icebreakers came along and fitted the skegs, thus earning membership of the SibLim Club.

Because of the junk bow, which is flat rather than pointy, the planking is put on starting with the bottom and I got into this, early in January.  Aft, I could use 12 mm plywood, but forward, where the bottom rolls into the bow, I had to use 6 mm because of the extreme curve.  On this photo a piece is laid out, ready to fit.

 

Before any further planking could be done, however, it was necessary to install longitudinals: a chine log, stringer and sheer clamp on each side.  These were laminated where necessary, in order to bend the wood to the curves of the hull.  The Alaskan Yellow Cedar that I buy comes in lengths of around 4 m, so once these were sawn and planed, they had to be scarphed together, as in the photo above.   WEST epoxy is my glue of choice, largely because I know it and can anticipate how it works.  I've tried other brands in the past but never got on with them as well. A lot of February was spent joining and fitting all these pieces of wood.

Come March and planking was in sight, but first I had to fit the sheer clamps.  SibLim is going to have davits and David designed them to be part of the main structure of the boat, running out from the sheer clamp.  I felt that these needed to be made from hardwood, rather than Alaskan yellow cedar and my friend, Marcus, contributed a variety of boards that he had stored away.  They varied from iroko to purpleheart.  I would be almost tempted to varnish them, just for their interesting colours!

So here we are in April, and the boat is starting to take shape.  It's really exciting to see what she looks like.  My little camera has quite a wide angle lens, which somewhat distorts the appearance of the hull.  In fact it's rather less beamy aft than it looks in this photo: indeed it's rather 'cod's head, mackerel tail' in appearance, which I very much like.

I never thought I'd find myself building another boat.  I most certainly never thought I'd find myself building another boat on my own, although to be perfectly honest, without good friends lending me a hand at certain critical moments, I don't think I could.  However, in essence I'm building this boat by myself and I have to say it's an incredibly satisfying process.  I'm not a clever woodworker: indeed I'm barely competent, but thanks to wonderful epoxy (yes, I know it's very toxic), good advice and the tendency of 12 mm plywood to fair out any wobbles, my boat seems to be pretty sound so far.  Because I know I will remember every bodge, every short cut, every 'she'll be right' moment, I am doing the best work I can and, thus far, I think I will be able to trust it.  Oddly enough, my greatest (irrational) concern is that there are no fastenings.  Badger had no fastenings and relied entirely on glue, and to the best of my knowledge and belief is still in one piece, so I'm not sure where this worry comes from.  I can actually see myself, one dark night, rushing round with drill and screws, shoving in fastenings left, right and centre, just before I put the glass and epoxy on the hull!

The SibLim Club

As you can imagine, building a boat is a pretty time-consuming operation, so that I don't have much opportunity for blogging.  However, anyone who is interested can follow progress on the Junk Rig Association website.  Progress is not particularly fast, but is extremely enjoyable.

One of the very rewarding and rather unexpected aspects of this build, is how many people want to get involved in one way or another.  It really seems to have caught their imagination and I enjoy how people want to share in the progress of SibLim.  First of all, of course, was David Tyler, who was inspired by my ideas to create a wonderful design to my criteria.  Then came Marcus, who not only let me take over his shed, but has allowed me to make use of his machine tools, none of which I could have afforded to buy. Because he is so sensitised to epoxy, at this stage he can offer very little in the way of hands-on work, but his advice (he's a professional boatbuilder) and insights are invaluable, and he helps out in many other ways.

A week ago, the amazing Grand Pha sailed into the Hatea River and anchored off Norsand Boatyard, where I'm building SibLim.  In short order, Bertrand was changed into his old clothes and had taken on the exacting task of notching bulkheads for the chine log. 

At this time I decided that we now have quite a cohort, and so The SibLim Club was founded and now had three members.

A couple of days ago, I had a visit from my friend, the designer John Welsford, who is also very interested in the project - in spite of not having designed the boat!

He arrived with delicious bread and cheese (relieving me of the necessity of preparing lunch, and, having given me a (much-needed) lesson in how to handle a chisel became the fourth member of the Club.  I dare say I shall have to design and make burgees to give to all members at the end of the build!

I sometimes worry that I've bitten off more than I can chew, taking on this task: the fact that friends are there to help and encourage me makes me feel less daunted and more confident about the undertaking.  Thanks to the SibLim Club, I now don't think I'll ever be at a loss when an extra pair of hands is required, or I am in need of some sound advice.