Back at work on Long Steps.

Giving the blog a kick.  I’ve been trying different social media, have concentrated on Facebook for the last while, but it’s a mixed blessing and many people don’t like it.  So, I’ve got the Yahoo Jwbuilders group going again, its still showing 4500 or so members but I’d neglected it somewhat, as with this blog.  But the three media seem each suited to somewhat different purposes and I figure that there is a place for each.

So, here on the blog you’ll find news of my builds and adventures both in design and cruising,  those are essentially an archive.  On the Yahoo group there will be question and answer plus that incredible photo archive that can be so helpful to a new builder trying to find an answer, and on Facebook, we’ll chat.

How to keep all three going? I suspect that I need to figure out a way to be awake and productive 24 hours a day 7 days a week, but we’ll see.

I had a great summer, three cruises on Spook, one in the Bay of Islands, one in Kawau Bay. That one just an overnight to see how my little dog would take to life on a small boat, and to check out Spook after her long layoff and several mods to the rig, and also to check out the inflatable kayak.  That wasnt a good thing by the way, I've since bought a rotomoulded plastic one, have yet to try it out, so "watch this space". 

The third cruise was across to Waiheke Island, the home of the best ice creams on the planet and some of the best scenery you'll ever find.

That took me away from the boatbuilding shed. Worth it though.

 I’m back at work on Long Steps.  Its been a while, as I’m the customer I figure that I can work on her or not, whichever is right at the time.  But its time I got on with her, Phil McCowin has been sailing his, reports that she’s well balanced, fast, ( and for Phil to be saying that, means fast, as he’s sailed some very quick boats in his time) and comfortable. He’s taking NFRTT  in the Texas 200 in a week or two, and I’m very much looking forward to his reports.

So, I’d been a bit stuck on two little problems, I had issues with accessing the lower rudder fitting bolts from inside, once the deck is on this area will be darn near impossible to access, I had visions of welding up a fitment that would hold the bolts from inside, in such a way that I could wind the locknuts on outside when fitting the gudgeons to the transom, and as I don’t have the gear to weld stainless steel ( yet, its on the list) I’d put that task off until, hopefully a flash of inspiration would give me a better idea.

While at a friends place, I spotted a strip of scrap stainless steel, 6mm x about 25mm, just eboug enough to do what I had in mind.  So, hacksaw, files, drills and 6mm metric fine taps came out on the bench and I’ve built the three fittings you see below.  The stainless straps are screwed to the inside of the transom, the bolts come through the gudgeon fittings, through the bolt holes in the transom and screw into the tapped holes in the straps. That way I’ll hopefully never have to rip the deck off to get back in there to tighten or replace nuts and washers.

There will be a countersink in the bolt holes on the outside, a sealant will form a big gasket,  allowed to set at about 2mm thick before the bolts are tightened and hopefully that will mean a permanent installation with no leaks.

 That stainless steel is seriously tough stuff, I broke two taps getting the threads in and ruined a drill bit, even with the special stainless steel cutting fluid.  Ah well, done now.

This is where the lower one of those fittings has to go. Its more than an arms length down plus will have a permanent deck over it, you'll note that the lower fitting has its bolt securing fittings in two pieces so it goes one each side of that stern web. Once in, its going to be there to stay.

I’d mention too, that I drilled the bolt holes out at 20mm diameter, filled them with thickened epoxy and re drilled them to take the 6mm bolts, this considerably  increases the strength plus prevents any water getting into the plywood end grain.

Next job. I have, after a complete change of batteries in my old ship, a big 660 CCA truck starter battery that’s still in good order.  Its one of four, and two of the others which are on a different circuit, had failed so I replaced the lot.  That leaves me with a $350 battery that testing showed to have a lot of life left in it, and a boat in build that will have a solar panel charging system, lights in the cuddy,  a light in the forward locker on each side, a GPS chart plotter, a VHF/SSB radio, navigation lights, phone and laptop charging points and an electric bilge pump ( in addition to a big manual one).  That’s a fair bit of electrical demand,  and it seemed a good idea to put the two together.

But here is the problem, the battery weighs 22 kg, (48,4 lbs).  How to fit it into its space, secured well enough to ensure that it doesn’t come loose should the boat be knocked down, and yet be accessible when I need to pull it out and put it back.

I’ve built a box, it has a lip along the top side edge and a “door” on the other, also with a lip. The box has tapered bearers to fit the curve of the bottom and side, is to be held in with bolts through the adjacent bulkhead and the centreline web on which the main mast step is mounted, and the door in the side opens to port, leaving just enough space to slide that big lump of a battery into place, and close the door.  I’ve a cleat on the top edge of the door which takes lashings that come across from the centreline web so once in and the lashings on, its there to stay.

Here's the battery box, its not bolted in yet but its a good fit to the curve of the bottom, the centreline web and the angle of the lowest plank so is well supported.  Oddly enough the real risk is not while sailing, its being bounced around while the boats being towed on its trailer on my way to another adventure.

The battery has to be lifted though that hatch opening on the right, placed in the box and the door closed as below, then the door lashed closed to a cleat, yet to be fitted, on the centre spine. Its the lip on the door and the lip on the back wall of the box that holds the battery in place within the box.

The electrical feed to and from the battery will go up the side of the mast box to a plastic kitchen container, through holes in the side which will then be sealed around the wires, to a bus bar set.  The container has a removable lid so I will be able to get at things, the wiring then goes across to a switch set mounted on the inside of the hatch so when I want to get at it, I open the hatch, press the switch and close it again.  All secure, out of the wet, but accessible.

I’ve begun running wires, there will be quite a lot of them, and all this needs to be done before I put the side decks on.

John Welsford

I had a great summer sailing in Spook.

I'll get back with a more comprehensive report, but in the meantime here is a pic taken by Jon Tucker while sailing in the Bay of Islands.  The pic pretty much says it all.

Summertime, and the consequences of not doing the maintenance while the winter weather prevented sailing.

Being summertime here, I’m pining for the Fiords .  Oops, not quite. Monty Python has a lot to answer for.  Really though I’m wanting to go sailing, cruising in a boat that has enough space in its cabin to be halfway comfortable, in a boat capable enough to do some exploring, and which pleases me to own.

I bought the little gaff sloop “May” some years ago, sailed her quite a lot for a while before moving aboard my ship.  Life got busy so May went under a cover, and stayed there until a few months ago, but the need to go sailing got to me and I hauled the covers off her to find, as expected, several years of deferred maintenance awaiting me.

At the same time, I wasn't that enamoured of her name.  I had to remove the old name from her transom to get the old brightwork off, so this was the opportunity.  She's synonymous with small, adventurous mischief, tough like a little terrier dog, and can ghost along when the smoke from a fire on the beach is rising straight up.  So she's got a new name,  she's "Spook" of Stillwater. The new name has been affixed to her transom so its official.

I’ve said it before, and will say it again, “this is the summer of the paintbrush”, and so it is.  I’ve been stripping old, peeling varnish, I suspect that its 2 part polyurethane as it is a stinker to sand, so it’s a scraper job rather than sanding. I’ve been able to scrape and sand out some of the water stains in the Eucalyptus wood trim, have gone through three rolls of Bear brand exterior 14 day masking tape, half a litre of Goldspar marine varnish, touched up some of the white paint, painted and varnished the mast, boom and yard, scrubbed the sails and taken every bit of rigging and cordage off her.

I’ve also stripped the interior, taken the ground tackle off, all the cruising gear, charts, stove and all the containers for the galley stores are out.

She’s only 18 ft on deck, but gosh, there was a lot of stuff inside her, Its all spread out on the garage floor right now and I’m wondering what magical spell allowed me to put all of it away inside that small space.

But I’m almost done, there are some mods needed to get that trailer right,  the boat tends not to come up the middle of the rollers so I’m having to carry a trolley jack to move her over before I tie her down to tow the rig away, so that’s needing attention.  There is more,. Way back Howard Rice and I worked out a reboarding system we called the “sling” for getting back aboard a SCAMP.  I’d had a pair of short strops with a foot loop in the end, secured on the stern mooring cleats and accessible through the fairlead openings. I could get back aboard, but it was a struggle, so I’m putting a “sling” on each side.  In this case the freeboard is only very slightly more than the SCAMP and I’m sure it will work.

I’ve still got lots of little tasks to do, I’ve sponged out the interior, aired the cushions, replaced the valves in the big bilge pump, scrubbed the sails and replaced the mast lashings. Another job will be to replace the fire extinguisher which is still ok for pressure but the handle is very rusted. I’m planning to take that to Daughters house and start a fire ( outside, I said OUTSIDE!) then get the granddaughters together and give a lesson on how to use one.  Hopefully they’ll never need to use that lesson.

The boat will get a new one.

I’m also planning to put a simple electrical system in, a small solar panel, a car battery, a couple of LED cabin lights and an anchor light.  The rules say that for a vessel under 7 m long, not under power, when under way at night, a big torch is legal.  I’ve three ready to go on board.  A big spotlight flashing in someones face gets their attention much more quickly than a couple of tiny, dim navigation lights.

The electrical system will include USB points to recharge phone, vhf, laptop and camera. We’ve become very “connected” these days and its hard to do without.

I’m building a new lightboard too, that hooks up to the tow vehicle and mimics the tail and signal lights of the tow wagon.  The old one was perfectly satisfactory but it had been sitting out in the weather for so long its rotted away, and the lenses on the lights crazed and cracked.

I just wanted to go sailing, so far its been five days of solid work, I’m expecting to be close to ready in a couple more days and hope to give her a shakedown daysail about Friday 11^th.  

There is a small group planning a cruise in the Bay of Islands mid February, and I’m hoping to be there.

I’d better get that paintbrush working again.

 You cant really see it, but there is a great deal of masking tape on there, darker blue than the topside cove stripe paint. She's only little but there is a lot of varnished trim on her. It does look nice but its a lot of work to keep up.

 The new name.    Spook is 18ft on deck, just over 7ft wide, weighs around 1200 kg, has a daggerboard as well as that big shoal draft straight keel under her, draws about 650mm and is rigged as a gaff sloop, 

Springtime, it brings hope and opportunity here on the river.

Blog for 6 Dec. So, in theory at least its the 6th day of summer here, but the weather is its normal unsettled self for this time of year, warmer than usual so at times the weather is more extreme. 

Its odd, when you’ve not been working in the shop for a while, the place gets really untidy, tools get hidden under things, other things aren't in the places where they should be, the floor looks as though its never seen a broom, and you can't walk from one end to the other without tripping over stuff.

It has to be gremlins, sneaky little buggers,  I’d never leave the place like that.

I’ve had more than a few distractions of late, a combination of things together with more rain than usual meant that “the summer of the paintbrush” didn’t happen last year, that plus other maintenance issues on the old ship meant that I wasn’t gaining on it.  Rot pockets, several of them, one pretty big, had to be dug out and new wood grafted in, sanded flush and new paint applied.  Every time I thought I had it all done, I found another one. I think I’ve one to go, but with a 45 year old boat that had been pretty neglected for a long time, there might well be more.

But I’ve been doing small jobs as time and other issues allow, and there are little patches starting to look ok.  I’ve redone almost all of the interior varnish, that’s easy, it can be done in small sections, a light sand, 5 coats of satin finish oil based varnish applied with a sponge brush and she’s looking ok inside.

I’ve done some woodwork in there as well, plus replaced a couple of plywood panels, they don’t match but what the hell, they’re there and do the job.

But it’s the outside that really needs the work, plus  the paint in the inside of the flying bridge upstairs is in really bad shape.  So I’ve started on that, done the control console, rewired the anchor and steaming light which  is now on the new light mast that I’ve built. I was, if not doing the big jobs, getting small ones done, that mast being one. Also managed to get the port and starboard navigation lights working again, the wiring on this old girl is a real mares nest and I’ve been gradually rewiring sections of it . That’s not an area of expertise that I’m familiar with, but each time I do a bit I learn some more.

So, now I’m legal when motoring at night or at anchor away from my dock .

We don't see much of the sun for a while when the sun is low in the winter, so lichen gets a start on the parts of the old ship that I don't get to as often when I'm parked here. That spotty stuff on the windows is lichen, its been sprayed with 30 seconds, not quite "spray and walk away" but effective. I'll be scrubbing it off this afternoon.

The "wheel" has been stripped, sanded and varnished, multiple coats, and the brasswork cleaned off. I've relocated the compass, I'll have to swing it when I get out to sea and there is space on top of that console for a deviation card that I'll make up.  The GPS is permanently located downstairs so a compass up here is helpful if the visibility outside is not so good.

That "yellow" paint is in fact "Oyster white",  much more yellow than I remember it from boats on which I've used it before, but they were a long time back. Its an ok colour though, less harsh than the pure white that is there now.  

Visible too are the wires and some of the fittings from my electrical work, I'll paint the rest of the area before pinning the wires in place. 

Now all I have to do is get the rest of the ship looking like that.

I’ve begun with the paint on the outside, got primer, one undercoat and one top coat on one side of the cabin, one more coat to go on that side. Lots more to do, but if I do a bit a couple of times a week I’ll get there eventually.

This summer looks a lot better than the last for a whole lot of reasons, one being that I’m in better shape and better motivated to get things done.  I AM going sailing this season, and with the issues around camping ashore that there are, decided to get my little ship “Spook” out from under her covers and sort her out so I can go cruising.  She’s an 18 ft on deck gaff sloop with a long keel, traditional styling, a cabin with a little galley, two bunks and enough storage for a week away, a while back I built a really efficient icebox so I’ll have the luxury of keeping such as cheese, milk and meats.

As I said, unlike the several years just past, I  am going sailing this year.

So, damn all the other jobs that I should be doing,  I started getting Spook ready on Sunday.  Hauled the tarp off,  stripped everything out of the cabin and the lockers, and the gremlins have been in there as well so there were a few surprises hiding in the lockers. Including I must say, the cheap hand crank combination lamp, radio receiver, phone charger unit. The surprise was that works, still, after not being touched for four years.

The L/Ion battery powered cabin lamp still has charge in it, and the black jelly beans in the screw top jar in the galley were (past tense, they’re all gone) edible. Much else went in the trash bin.

All of the exterior brightwork needs re doing, I think it was done with two part polyurethane so getting it stripped back is going to be a pig of a job. That stuff doesn’t sand off well, but comes off in sheets where its failing, so it’s a scraper job.

Incidentally, I inherited a "Skarsten" brand scraper, I'd never used one before and initially it wasn't doing the job.  But I recall, way back, reading in a Practical Boat Owner that unlike the carbide scrapers with their replaceable blade these should be sharpened.  I did that, grinder, then oilstone, and its seriously good at removing that tired and peeling varnish. Never too old to learn eh. 

I’m working on her at Mums place, alongside her brothers workshop. Sadly, now in his late 80s he’s not able to do much these days, but it means that I have a place to work on her (the boat not mum) that’s close to a power point and tools. Living on my big boat, tied to a dock at the bottom of a very steep and muddy track means I don’t have access to that for this 1200 kg boat here at home. Pluses and minuses. Mums place is about 20 mins away so that’s not too bad.

I was going to be working on her today, but we’ve had what was possibly the most intense thunderstorm I’ve seen in NZ (I’ve been through a hurricane in the Caribbean, the lightning flashes were so close together you could read a newspaper by them), apart from all the noise and lightning, my little SEI , 15 ft double ender, got picked up off the dock by the wind, and flicked against the side of my ship, breaking both gunwales, punching a small hole in her planking and doing a whole lot of cosmetic damage as well as punching out a window on the ship.  MORE jobs to do.

I’d thought of doing some drawing, I’ve not been able to do much on the drawing board for a while, but had it set  up ready, pens all working, (Rotring Rapidograph, touchy things but their new ink is better) and, what do you know, during that storm it got tossed off the table and now I’ve got to start from scratch to get the drafting machine all straight and square again.  Ever had one of those days?

So, today, being thoroughly annoyed and demoralised, I chose a small job that I knew I’d get done.  I’d stripped and revarnished the flying bridge steering wheel last week, between all the other stuff in my life, and today I polished the brass rings, found screws to replace the missing ones and put it all back together with Anhydrous lanolin on all the threads and the taper.

Its all done. Its nearly Christmas so I’m going to pull some clean trousers on and go out to buy some pressies for the granddaughters.

If you’re finding this all a bit boring,  remember that here in NZ its getting close to summertime, dinghy cruising time.  Here is one of Steve Parkes excellent video essays to remind us just how great small boat cruising can be. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJmGj4u_fss   If that doesn’t inspire you, nothing will.   Thanks Steve, your videos are much loved.

Morning on the river.

Morning.  14 July. 2018.

He snores, my little dog, as he lies sleeping on his rug. Dawn is still an hour away so he’s entitled to sleep, but I’m sitting up in my bunk looking out over the water, watching the ripples distorting the reflection of the lights on the hills above.

I don’t mind his gentle, rhythmic  rumble, I imagine he’s really saying to me, “I’m here boss, you’re not alone, if there is a threat I’ll be there with teeth bared barking in my best don’t mess with us, voice.  Don’t feel lonely boss, I’m here”.

And I don’t. My litle ship, my floating home is rising with the tide, its like being lifted by the slow heartbeat of the world. It’s a big tide this morning, one that covers all of the mudbanks, bringing clear ocean water in even this far up the estuary, changing the colour from brown to grey green.

Its too early yet to think of what the day might hold, the planning of the day, the jobs that need doing, what is urgent and what might wait. It’s a time to relax, to watch the hypnotic march of the tiny waves, listen to the birds awakening and proclaiming, “I’m here, this is my place, I’m here, listen to my song”.

There is some pale light above the horizon now, being winter its late, but winter sometimes brings a clarity of light that we don’t see in the warm haze of summer and while the sun is close to its morning appearance the stars still shine, bright and sharp. Its going to be a good day today, I feel very privileged to live here on the river, afloat, so close to nature and the natural things around me.

The water is not my friend, nor is it my enemy, it is impersonal in its actions, but I am content when with it, close to it, borne up by it.

Living here has me close to the moods of the sea. It can be peaceful, gentle, filled with promise of reward. It can be angry, threatening, capricious, or playful. But its rarely the same for long, the constant change is enough to hold my attention always. There is peace here, watching the water is enough to so occupy me that the world of mankind does not trouble me. I understand those for whom long voyages out on the ocean call so strongly, but here in the shelter of the river I can have both. Waking here is a wonderful thing, so near, and yet so far.

Its light now, my little dog still snores, but he’s muttering under his breath, grumbling as he wakes.  In a moment we’ll go outside, and we’ll both look out over the water before we walk off together to see what the day has in store for us, there are rats that need catching, both for him and me.

 "Dawn on the River."   Photo by Paul Gilbert, Aquapix.