Mainly deckbeams

Fitting deckbeams - for me at any rate - is slow, painstaking work.  And not terribly photogenic.  However, I'm quite pleased with the results.

 The first thing to do was to smooth down the upper surface of the bulkhead.  It wasn't sawn perfectly to begin with, although it was pretty good, and there were dribbles of epoxy, etc, from various jobs.  The deck, you may recall consists of two straight lines (on either side) and a curved centre section.  An offcut from the deckbeam stock helped me check that the edges were straight.

 In the meantime, I finished coating the foredeck.  What looks cream in the photos is, in fact, a rather pleasing (to my eye) shade of yellow.  It is impossible to get far enough out of the shed to get a decent photo, but you'll have to take my word for it that it looks pretty smart.

 The next thing was to offer up the deckbeams.  What with springback (the amount the laminated curve tries to straighten out again), and the less than perfect scarfs, this was one of those (many) situations where I was profoundly grateful for the gap-filling properties of epoxy.  As the deck is going to have an inner liner inside the deck beams (to create an even stiffer deck), the 4mm ply will hide these rather wide glue joints.  I hope.  And anyway, knowing my joinery, it will probably require fillets all round to hide the gaps!

 It had also occurred to me that the tabernacle should be varnished before installation.  It will be a lot easier to touch up any scratches than to try and apply varnish between the tabernacle and the side of the bunk.  So over the next several days I varnished a side or two, whenever the time seemed appropriate.

 The existence of epoxy also made it a little less nerve-racking cutting the notches that the beams rest in.  I could have used a multitool for this, but it didn't take that much longer to saw and chisel out the notches and there was less room for making a major botch.

 I dry fitted the beams, levelling them with each other and the one already fitted at the front of the cabin.  It would have been easier if I hadn't fitted the first one - levelling the bulkheads without a beam on them is much easier.  Having realised this, at least I had the sense to do the next three bulkheads at the same time.  I used lots of screws to pull them into place, then backed out the screws, spread glue and put the beams down again.

 The whole project was made somewhat more stressful by the recent temperatures.  38⁰C in the shed with high humidity, thoughtfully topped up by the weather gods with regular showers.  I had to break out the super-slow hardener, which I don't think I even used last year.  I daren't use any other at present.

When I came to fit the intermediate beams in the saloon/galley, I found that they seemed to be lower than the bulkheads.  I thought I was going to have to use brute force to bring them up to the same level as the others once they were installed, which was a bit of a worry.

 The answer came at three in the morning as I lay in bed:  they had simply slipped lower down the sheer clamp and all that was required to put them in place was to clamp them to straight edges laid across the other beams and then screw them to the sheer clamp.  Obvious, no doubt, but not to me and I felt absurdly pleased with myself for working it out.  I was equally pleased for remembering to put spacers between them to ensure that they didn't twist out of alignment while the glue was setting.  With the clamps off and the screws out they are within epoxy-filling reach of accurate.

 Once all the beams from the heads aft were cleaned up, I needed to put in the wood for the liner.  It was a lot easier than in the forecabin, because the lengths between the beams were sufficiently short that I could get away with straight pieces (there is less sheer here, too).

Ever the optimist, I intended to clamp them in, but with the clamps being screwed down at an angle, they slipped and slithered about too much.  A quick round with the drill and a few screws did the job.

Talking of drills, I need to give a shout out to Bunnings, here.  My friend, Steve, had given me on of their cheap and cheerful battery drills and I found I used it a lot.  My battery screwdriver can be a bit fierce, so I used one drill as a driver and one for making holes.  A week or so ago it ceased to take a charge and I took it back, largely because I thought they could dispose of it in a more responsible fashion than I can.  I had no receipt, of course.  To my absolute astonishment, they told me I could have another.  Unfortunately, they don't make this rather natty little drill (with a built-in battery) any more, so the replacement was much more clunky.  However, it was over $11 cheaper and they refunded that, too! That is definitely service above and beyond what I expected, (even if it was the ethically correct thing to do) and I feel they deserve a pat on the back.  I would generally prefer to use Mitre 10 - a Kiwi-owned franchise - but this Aussie company gave me excellent service.

On which happy note, it's back to polishing the portholes.

Happy New Year

 My apologies for not having blogged for a while, but Christmas, New Year and Tall Ships can all take their share of the blame.  And I did try to have a bit of a holiday in the holiday season! 

Our Tall Ships junket must have been the longest ever, starting well before the Tall Ships Regatta and, indeed, I believe that there are still junkies up there, sailing in company and socialising even as I write.  My own effort to join in was looking to be a disaster, when the car that I share broke down the day before.  A severe gale came along later in the day to give me a sleepless night, as I battened down the shed and then was kept awake by its shuddering through the night.  The Friday before Tall Ships dawned blowy and wet, but I caught a bus up to Opua, persuaded my kind friend, John, to collect me from the car ferry and arrived to find that conditions had moderated sufficiently for me to get out to Zebedee, where I had been offered a berth for the night.  He was the only boat I had the slightest chance of boarding, being in a more sheltered spot than most of the fleet!  Conditions moderated sufficiently for us to be joined by several other boats and the mandatory pre-Tall Ships Race dinner was enjoyed by all who managed to make it.

 The next day dawned bright, but breezy and I have to say I was less than enthusiastic about sailing around with a large group of other boats.  it may be a 'friendly' race, but people do get competitive ...

Roger Scott took some great photos and here is one of Zebedee and Blondie storming along before the start line.

We made a bad start, largely due to the fact that neither skipper Alan, nor helmsman, Annie, had bothered to pay a lot of attention to the instructions.  I reckoned my job was to point the boat as directed so lay the blame squarely on Alan's shoulders.  Our sole crew member was too busy watching the other boats to get involved until Alan asked her: "Just which beacon are we supposed to use?"  Hmm, we'd chosen the wrong one.  However, Zebedee took off in hot pursuit of the fleet and we slowly overhauled every single junk, bar Tystie (and we even got ahead of her for a while) leaving Alan ecstatic and me exhausted.  Zebedee is a bit of a brute, close-hauled in gusty conditions and insists that his mainsheet be eased before he will bear away in a gust, so that was Alan's job.  At one point it felt extremely hairy, with boats all round, rocks not far to windward, me desperately trying to leave boats enough room to windward and those to leeward desperately trying to get past us and clear.  Not really my cup to tea, I have to confess.

However, in due course, we were in less crowded conditions, and by watching another couple of canny boats ahead of us, I managed to avoid getting becalmed in the lee of Roberton Island.  That's when we overtook Tystie.  A tacking duel followed, in which we went faster and higher that she did on port, only to lose it all again on starboard.  Sadly for Alan, there was a lot more sailing on starboard than on port, but we still felt that Zebedee had done really well for himself.

 I stayed on for another day of socialising, while the rest of the junkies carried on having a perfectly wonderful time.  I gather there has been much sailing in company, visiting back and forth and blather about all things junk.  This is another of Roger's great photos of Zebedee sailing alongside Fantail, showing off the new sail that Bryan has made.

 Anyway, enough of fun and frivolity.  Back to the hard grind.  Just before Christmas, I finished varnishing the forecabin.  I confess to feeling very pleased with it!

 You may recall that back in the dim and distant past, I put the deck on, and anchor lockers in the foredeck.  Belatedly it occurred to me that the chain locker would hold chain and that the anchor would be on the bow and that the two would be connected.  Therefore, it might be a good idea if the chain could come out of the locker without the hatch needing to be open.  After pondering for a while on how to protect the woodwork, I went to Stanley's and bought a second-hand skin fitting for $5 and cut it in half.  It should do the job nicely.

  One of the jobs that I've been frankly terrified of doing, is cutting holes for the portholes.  If I put them in the wrong place, there would be no going back.

I had found a hole saw, the correct size for the cut-out (which struck me as a lucky break), but had also been put off by the dire warnings of the thing getting out of control while I was trying to saw the hole out.  Big, heavy powerful drills can be a handful for most men and can certainly do a lot of damage in my hands.  However, it had to be done, so I borrowed a more powerful battery drill than the one I own and set to.  Apart from taking a long time (I used the slow setting), it was pretty painless.

And the result was most satisfactory.

 This is what it looks like from on deck ...

And this is the view from below.  A red letter day, for me.

Another job that has been daunting me is fitting the deck beams.  This is another of those jobs that just has to be done correctly, otherwise I'll end up with an undulating deck.  Unfortunately for me, joinery is required in order for the beams to notch into the sheer clamp.  However, one of the things that I've learnt is that if I take something sufficiently slowly and carefully (one reason why this boat is taking so long) I can usually figure out how to get to where I want to.

 I marked the bulkhead, planed and then sanded it to match the beam (sending up prayers of thanks to whoever it was who invented gap-filling epoxy, which turns this bodger into a builder) and little by little got the beam, bulkhead, and sheer clamp to match.

 That done 'all' that remained was to glue it into place, with the assistance of clamps and temporary screws.

 Ah yes - I forgot to say that the reason I finally fit one of the deckbeams, was because I wanted to finish off the foredeck (apart from the bulwark capping) and couldn't do that unless the deck beam had been put in place.  With everything masked off, and after preparing the remaining deck box for painting, I set to.

 The first coat was applied with a brush, but when SibLim Club member, Phil, asked why I wasn't using a roller I decided to give it a go.  I'm not the best with these things, but have to say it went on quite nicely.  'But it takes a lot more paint than putting it on by brush,' I pointed out. ' Isn't that the idea?' he asked me.  Duh.

 While the paint dried, and with the bit in my teeth insofar as deckbeams are concerned, I added an extra batten of wood on the inside of the sheer clamps.

 These provide a landing for the inner deck liner, which ends up creating a stiffer deck.

 More framing will be required between the deckbeams and the stringers so the deck is supported and the deck liner has something to glue to.  Fitting that should be an interesting exercise ...

 Part of fitting the deck beams involves fitting the tabernacle.  Or the other way round if you prefer.  It will be a lot easier to sand and varnish it while it's horizontal than when it's in place.  Another job that can be carried out while paint hardens off.

 And while I'm at it, I need to decide what porthole goes where.  The glass is badly scratched in some of them, so I don't want those right next to my face when I'm sitting up in my bunk or in the saloon.  I may as well finish cleaning all of them up while I'm at it.

And here is the foredeck, with the final coat of paint applied.  Once it has cured a bit, I'll sand both it and the varnish down and apply clear finish over the lot.  This makes scrapes easier to repair, if they're not too deep and effectively seals the edge where paint and varnish meet.  When it all starts to look a bit scruffy, all that is required is to coat the lot with a couple of coats of clear polyurethane.  When this boat is launched, I hope to keep maintenance to a minimum!

Christmas is nearly here

And I still have to put up the decorations, wrap presents and make a card.  So this week I'll keep it simple.

With Christmas just around the corner

It's summer here, and everyone is feeling sociable, so I have had lots of visitors.  No problems - I like visitors, but feel guilty when they leave because I've been chatting instead of working.  Ah well plan like you'll live forever, but live like you'll die tomorrow is my motto!  Bertrand, of the SibLim Club, is presently anchored in the river, and members Mark and Phil are back from Oz.  Pete and Linda returned from their Pacific tour recently and plans are afoot from those lucky junkies with boats, as to when to assemble in the Bay of Islands for the Tall Ships.

 In the meantime, I've been plodding on in the forecabin. I removed the fiddle along the counter top and glued it back into place.  In spite of aligning it carefully, using a hand screwdriver very gingerly and - I thought - making sure that I found all the screw holes, I managed to get it in the wrong place, so it had to come off again and I had to scrape all the epoxy off before it kicked off.  (As it is now around 30C in the shed from about 1100 onwards, this had to be done in a hurry.)  The second time I rested it in position on clamps and that went so easily that I wondered why I hadn't thought of it before. I also fitted fiddles to the athwartships bookshelves.

 I then had to laminate up the fiddle for the bookshelf over the bunk.  The obvious thing was to use the existing one as a pattern, which was made easier due to the fact that I didn't want the new one to be as long.  I made it of two layers and it sprang back, so I then had to add a couple more to it.  These were thinner - I didn't want the fiddle to be too heavy - and they did a good job of locking the curve in.

 That done, I had to fit supports for it.  The shelf is of the right size for books like those the Mariners' Library (Rupert Hard-Davis), used to print.  Once the libraries had every book on their shelves, but now you rarely see them.  I keep hoping someone will bring them out as e-books - perfect for sailors with not too much space for books!

Then I fitted the little brass turnbuttons to stop drawers and doors falling out.  These could be considered an extravagance, but they do look nice and work very well.  Here's the locker with the turnbuttons in place.  I added little hemispheres of tigerwood to the drawers, which don't stick out as far as the fiddle.  This will also prevent the relatively soft kauri from getting marked from a heavy drawer leaning against the turnbutton and stop them sliding back and forth in irritating fashion as we roll down the Trade Winds.  (Yeah Right!)

 The big bookshelves were coated and you can see that there is room for Junks and Sampans.  I trust that there will be sufficient books to hide the bare plywood. I really didn't want to panel the section between the two shelves.  I can't wait to see them filled!

 The next job, which I think is the last one required to complete the fitting out of the forecabin, was to veneer the end grain of the plywood with a kauri 'clashing' (as it is apparently called here).  The first layers were a bit of a disaster, because although the wood was only about 2mm thick, it really didn't want to bend.  It caused a lot of frustration and bad language.

  Sawing some thin stuff off another piece of kauri that Marcus discovered in the wood pile and gave to me, sorted the issue.  For some reason, this wood was a lot more flexible.  And, it was long enough to go round in one length.

 While I was at it, I started on the saloon doorway, too.  By now I have the knack.  The first long length I put in, I - foolishly - precoated, with the result that epoxy got spread around all over the place.  The second one, I carefully coiled up, holding it together with masking tape.  By the time I got to the third one I had worked out to secure the end with masking tape and then to carefully unwind the strip of veneer, make loose loops of masking tape at each 'corner', so that it couldn't escape, but on the other hand could slide easily as it got taped into place.  There are still a few gaps, but hey - this is the 'country cottage look'!  It uses miles of masking tape!  I plane each one down with a teensy-weensy plane before putting on the next layer - just putting generous amounts of epoxy on the wood already in place.  (I can hear teeth being sucked, but it's not exactly structural.)

And while the glue has been kicking off, I've been doing The Big Sand.  Not a nice job: hot and noisy with sander and vacuum going full blast.  It's going to be 'fun' varnishing it all in these temperatures.  I have found that the only solution is to add lots of polyurethane thinners.  The manufacturers' chemists would probably weep at this comment, but from past experience, the coating doesn't seem adversely affected, although I suppose it must be.  I guess it's just so good anyway, that at even 70% efficiency, it's quite wonderful!

So once I've posted this - and sent out a few Christmas e-cards - I'd better get on with it.

I can understand why people skimp on coating with epoxy

I am not really the soul of patience and am in accord with Tilman that it is a virtue easily exhausted by exercise.  I am more than ready to move on to another stage in the boat and this final locker in the forecabin is really proving rather testing: I keep getting held up because there is sticky wood around which can't be handled or touched. 

Of course there are approximately 10,732 other jobs I could do while the epoxy goes hard, but I can only hold so much in my brain and I fear that if I move on to another job, I shall make a mess of what I'm doing here, by forgetting some crucial part.  I keep forgetting things anyway, like (as Marcus pointed out), what do I intend to do to keep the books in the port bookshelf?  (Bother.)  And how long am I going to put off trimming the door frame?  (Go away.)  I also spent an inordinate amount of time trying to use the remaining offcuts from to make an end to a couple of big bookshelves I've been making.  Not possible so I made a nice panelled bulkhead which will probably look better anyway.  The 'big bookshelves' is a misnomer: it's more accurately the bookshelves for big books, dominated by my need to find an easily accessible home for my greatest treasure: The Junks and Sampans of the Yangtze, given to me by my friend Gary Underwood, prolific designer of houses and boats.  He has been slowly offloading some of his fantastic library and I was the lucky person he thought of for this book.  I have managed to get most of G.R.G. Worcester's books, which are delightfully written and beautifully illustrated.  I look forward to the time when I can read them properly and at leisure.  However, J&SY is a mighty tome and set the standard for the bookshelves that were to be built.  In addition, there are David Thatcher's cruising guides plus some others, along with several other 'oversize' books that, for various reasons, I want to keep. They could all be put into lockers, of course, but I'd prefer to get to them more easily.  The space at the forward end of the forecabin (once set aside for a sewing machine, that, alas, would not fit easily) seemed to offer the perfect solution.

I had some kauri left over from doing the drawer fronts so I glued it together (using Gorilla to save a bit of time.) Having framed up the area, I carefully fitted the two shelves.

Having decided that I had insufficient left for the end of the cabinet, I scouted around and found a bit of kauri panelling that was a bit too narrow to use elsewhere, but could be used to make a perfect endpiece for the shelves.  I glued up a frame and then routed round to make a rabbet in which to set the panels.

Because the whole area had been intended to be an enclosed locker (and The Great One disapproved of the weight of the kauri panelling) I then had to panel the space under the shelves, which will be seen.  Again, short ends that I had refused to throw away came in useful for this.

This is where my patience was tried.  I was more than ready to assemble the whole lot, but the panel is better coated on the flat and the bottom of the shelves required a good thick layer of epoxy to ensure that they stay stable.  At least I won't have to varnish them!

So time to go and actually start gluing it all together!

Oryx is for sale!

As I mentioned in my previous post, Oryx is back in New Zealand.  Pete tells me that, once again, he wants to try out another boat.  He says he has 'one last boat to build', but at the moment, he'd rather buy something already out there - preferably with junk rig to save the effort of conversion, but first he has to sell Oryx.

For a  33ft boat, she has heaps of accommodation: two double cabins, one single, a good galley and heads and a saloon and chart table on the bridge deck.  For £45,000, you get a lot of boat for your money.  Pete built her in the UK, sailed the Atlantic coast of South America and over to South Africa.  From there he sailed across the Indian Ocean to Oz and then came to NZ.  This winter he has been exploring French Polynesia and Tonga.  She sounds to be a pretty fast boat.

If you want to see photos of the interior and read up on her specs, you can find it all here.  If you want to contact Pete, you can easily do so if you are a member of the Junk Rig Association: his details are in the Membership Directory - or leave a comment on this blog with your email address (it won't be published until I've moderated it) and I'll forward it to him.

I hope Oryx can soon find a new owner who will appreciate this special boat!

Oooh! What a week!

Some weeks, the boat leaps forward and I think that it may even swim one day.  Other weeks not a lot happens - on the boat that is.  Life has a way of disturbing one's boatbuilding routine.  If I were desperate to go sailing again, this might by very upsetting.  However, much as I would love to be back on the water (how can anyone tolerate living ashore?) and back to sanity, going sailing again is a pleasant promise for the future rather than a burning desire.  There are far worse ways to spend the days than building a boat and when that progress is interrupted by people that I value, it's an interruption I can happily handle.

A telephone call on Monday evening from Roger, told me that he had arrived safely back in Godzone, on the good ship Oryx, with Linda and skipper Pete.  They'd had a bit of a bumpy ride off N Cape and were happy to be safely in harbour.  Rob and Maren were driving up to see them the next day: did I want to come too?  My feeble protestations of "I shouldn't really", were shouted down, so I happily agreed and made arrangements to hitch a ride up with R&M.

Oryx was anchored off Paihia; Rob had brought his inflatable rubber duck, but as I'd gloomily envisaged, the light E breeze was quite sufficient to make launching off the beach something of a drama.  Finally, with me soaked half way up my thighs, Rob wringing wet from a complete dunking and Maren sitting primly in the bow wondering what all the fuss was about, I shoved them off and climbed into Crake, which Pete was holding offshore, waiting.  As we rowed out he said that the drama off N Cape was caused when a wave had rudely climbed into the cockpit, completely filling it and managing to find its way below.  "The wind wasn't that bad," he told me, "Force 8 gusting 9, but the seas were terrible - the worst I've seen for a long time".  Spring tides rushing round the top of North Island, colliding with the SE current from the Tropics which was flowing against the SE gale had stirred things up a treat, it would appear.  However, the gallant crew was stirred rather than shaken and a jolly afternoon was enjoyed by all, before we all headed back to Whangarei, with Roger on board.

A couple of days later Dave and Rosemary, back from their 6 months in Oz, came by to inspect progress and tell me all about the house and garden they've been building.  Then Roger having hitched a ride up the harbour on Tystie, came to view progress, together with Martin and Renate and Marcus broke out some beer ...

So, the long and the short of it is that there isn't that much progress to report.  I know Real Builders will be shaking their heads and sucking their teeth, but when I'm old(er) and grey(er) I suspect I'll remember my friends' spontaneous visits with much more pleasure than gluing pieces of wood together.  However, wood has been glued:

 You may recall that I decided to cheat around the drawers in the forecabin.  There is already heaps of stowage and I felt no need to use up every square centimetre.  And making a perfectly rectangular box does somewhat challenge my skills.  But, as those following with close attention will have noted, I do like things to Look Nice, so I am fitting kauri fronts to the plastic boxes.  The kauri was acquired from a delightful wood turner - a friend of a friend - who is 'slowing down' and is offloading some of his shed full of stock.  Lovely stuff.  I had one of the one-inch boards sawn up to provide the drawer fronts.

 I thought the boxes could do to be a bit stiffer, so screwed plywood to the front of them to form the interior front of the box.  By making the kauri slightly larger, this would ensure that the boxes couldn't slide in too far.  I shall use simple brass turnbuttons to stop them coming out too far.

 The front of the box had stiffeners down it, between which I placed small pieces of ply for attaching the large ones.  They were glued together and a screw goes through both pieces: the plastic is, of course, impossible to glue to.  However, with the small pieces of ply snugly between the stiffeners, the drawer is reassuringly stiff.  The kauri fronts were then fitted as accurately as possible - not very - and individually fitted back in the locker and trimmed into some sort of symmetry.

 In the meantime, I had fitted the tigerwood counter top which I think looks fantastic.  To be honest it's all rather enormous - ideally I'd have made the whole thing a bit lower, but the stringer that it's resting on is the best part of 50mm from top to bottom and I'd have had to lower the counter far more than I wanted to be able to fit it under the stringer with a reasonable gap between the two.  It would have looked a bit odd snugged up under the stringer.  Anyway, I now have another enormous area of storage; but an unexpected benefit is that the forward end will take an Admiralty chart folded in two.  It's not the ideal place for dashing to and from the cockpit, but would be perfect for more leisurely chart work.

A substantial 70mm fiddle finishes it off.  Here are some of the drawers getting their final fitting.  The doors have their tongues' and the clamps are holding in small pieces of wood that stop the doors going in too far.  No doubt a Real Builder would have made a nice rabbeted frame and save himself from this fiddly work.  I don't trust my skills to try this and besides, it requires a lot more wood.  The main thing to me is that the doors will function and, of course, Look Nice.  I can see a big varnishing job coming up!