Before we can get to the nitti gritti (heheh) of repair and restoration, we gotta see what we got! First thing was to scrub any nasty stuff remaining under the mussels. After the boat had dried out a bit for 2 or 3 days (and I had gone back to work) I spent a few hours with a flat scraper on the outer hull removing barnacle glue, the furry stuff that the mussels use to anchor to the hull, and loose paint. Then I went and started pulling calking out of the plank seams. (notice I use the older spelling "calk" instead of "caulk." A boat I believe is different from a window or bathtub, so I emphasize the difference with the spelling.)
There were several types of calk used in the seams. The most recent stuff was a white latex or silicon calk...hard to say which with all the junk stuck to it. At any rate, it stripped off the hull easily, coming out in long runs. The next type was beige brownish stuff, reminiscent of window sealer. It also came out easily, though stuck to the wood better. In many cases, there was white goop on top of the brown.
Going deeper I found some places (especially near the stem) where a very hard, white sealer was used. Really hard to break apart, I wonder if this is Dolphinite? Or perhaps a 2 part fairing compound. I have yet to remove it all as it is extremely difficult to remove. It may have to be routed or sawn out, as it damages the plank edges as it comes out. The plan is still to re-plank, so edge damage is not taboo...but still...
There are large areas, mostly below the waterline, that are still calked with coal tar and oakum. I thought it was pine tar, but it turned out to be far more noxious than the worst pine tar I have encountered. It seems to be the original calking, and is in the best condition. Only one seam there leaks at all, and only after I had reefed a bunch out. No question, those old techniques work! The only thing is that a large amount of the wood there is utterly destroyed, mostly on the plank edges. Absolutely I will need new garboard planks.
Of course, under all of this is cotton roving. Most of it seems like it was put in pretty well, but one chap decided to pound some in from the inside, and destroyed the plank edges. Or perhaps the plank edges were already trash and the cotton was an emergency repair...or two...or ten...or twelve...
The cotton is quite hard to remove, as the planks are fairly tight, still. I took a butter knife to the grinder to make me a tool for cotton-pulling. Worked pretty well other than the crease I put in my "pushin' hand." I plan to slot a piece of wood to spread out the pain :-)
The cotton is still soaked in a lot of places, but it comes out in pieces after it is dry. The western red cedar that the planks are made of is quite soft, and I am wondering if I can make a slender wooden or plastic calking puller that might leave the planks in better condition.
But why? I'm replacing them, right? Well, I plan to use/reclaim as much of the original stuff as possible...for things like the interior and perhaps a tender. Not only that, but I plan to make templates for the new planks...though I dream about spiling the thing from scratch. Might be beyond my current skills...so I want to preserve the planks as much as possible.
We got inside, too. Ever since the first day I saw her, I have wanted to remove the plywood interior from this Seabird. I cannot describe how much stainless steel crap was holding the interior on. It took both Stacey and myself hours and hours to remove the screws in the V-berth area and the galley. She's empty from the bow to the cockpit bulkhead, now. It seems far more spacious and I wonder how well we can use that. I will probably make the cabin trunk a little larger, with a nice bulgy curve to it...and we plan to make the cockpit deeper and larger when we rebuild.
I bought a few scrapers, and I spent one night sharpening them properly and oiling the places they get wet (as I haven't made any waxy tool stuff lately) and I plan to try them out on the hull...as I start the probe for evil evil ROT.
Saturday, April 20
Blew my load
What I cannot really describe is how excited I was to get the boat out of the water. I hadn't even had a chance to swim under the boat, yet. I was aching to get a look at the bottom.
I had a vague idea what it looked like, from photos of similar boats as well as the plans that I got for xmas from Stacey (best gift, ever!) But I hadn't seen MINE. I also wanted to see what kind of work I was in for...
I had been excited for more than a month, but the few days leading up to the actual moving of the boat were almost sleepless for me. I woke up SUPER early to get everything ready, drive Stacey into town for her class, and get to the marina in time to move the boat to the ramp. I went over the night before and lashed the mast down on a 2x4 cradle,
so all I had to do was move the boat. I got to the marina an hour early, as the guy hauling the boat was due at 9:30. I enlisted Lyal's aid in moving the boat (Lyal is the yard guy at the marina). As you recall, there was no longer an outboard on the boat, and I declined to borrow the one off Layton's boat without asking. This is where things started to go...off. First, the marina (knowing I was leaving) found a way to charge 2 days extra moorage at the daily rate, even though I had been there 10 months at the monthly rate. They also levied a $20 ramp use fee and $25 for Lyal's 10 minutes to tow me around. I'd have done it myself if I didn't have to back the boat out of the slip, first! On retrospect, I should have just done it that way...by myself.
So Lyal (who is a few beer short of a six-pack, really) came over with one of the decrepit work boats and grabbed a boomkin (bowsprit on the stern) and dragged the boat out of its slip. I passed him a line, correctly routed, and he insisted on wrapping it around my spritstay (bowsprit shroud) a few times. Then he started off, HOLDING the line to Larkie, even though a perfectly good cleat was fastened to the work boat in a place perfect for towing. I watched in (relative) horror as he kept gunning the outboard and nearly dragging himself out of the workboat, holding on to the line tangled in Larkie's bowsprit rigging. I stood in the stern of Larkie, doing my best to follow Lyal's waggly course while he struggled to light a cigarette while driving the work boat and holding the Larkie's bowline at the same time. Thankfully, we had a wind astern, so I didn't have to partake in his tobacco fumes. As we approached the dock at the boat ramp he reminded me to move my fenders to the port side of the boat. This was good advice, and I did so.
We arrived at the ramp, but before Lyal would let me tie up he insisted on untying all the fenders I had just mounted, and carefully re-tying them on with well-crafted granny knots. I let this pass without comment. Although it had cost me $138 more than I expected, my boat was now ready at the ramp and was about to come out, as soon as the man with the trailer arrived. I had 10 minutes.
I wasn't sure how this whole boat-trailer-ramp thing worked with my boat, so I had brought my drysuit with me. I hurriedly struggled into it (no mean feat when you don't have a buddy to help zip you up) in order to be ready when the truck arrived.
About 20 minutes later it started to rain really heavily, so I was grateful for the rubber suit. At 10 o'clock I was concerned something was holding the boat hauler up, so I phoned. The guy at Jenkins Marine told me his guy should arrive any minute. At 10:30 he phoned back and said his trucker cancelled. CANCELLED? Not an option!
By this time I had discovered that my drysuit wristseals were a little tighter than they should be, and my purple hands were starting to hurt. I was hungry. I was FULLY EXPECTING to go home with my boat. I was emotionally charged. I was irate. And I told Mr. Jenkins Marine, not an option, get him down here. His response was "I don't know what to tell you, buddy."
So I called every other boat hauling guy around.
Mark, the owner of the marina helped me out a bit, and was made aware of my dilemma. He offered some numbers and called a few people. Bottom line, the only guy available was in Nanaimo and he wanted $1500 just to show up. Forget it! I had the suit off by this time and was coming off my anger-adrenalin. I ended up parking the boat beside the ramp and going home. I had no idea how long it would be until Rick, the guy who drives the boat truck, would be well enough to work. And at $60 a day moorage, I had no idea how much it might cost me.
I went home totally emotionally drained. I couldn't sleep. I was still mad/tired/enervated. Resigned. Apathetic. I crashed hard on that. Go figure.
I had a vague idea what it looked like, from photos of similar boats as well as the plans that I got for xmas from Stacey (best gift, ever!) But I hadn't seen MINE. I also wanted to see what kind of work I was in for...
I had been excited for more than a month, but the few days leading up to the actual moving of the boat were almost sleepless for me. I woke up SUPER early to get everything ready, drive Stacey into town for her class, and get to the marina in time to move the boat to the ramp. I went over the night before and lashed the mast down on a 2x4 cradle,
so all I had to do was move the boat. I got to the marina an hour early, as the guy hauling the boat was due at 9:30. I enlisted Lyal's aid in moving the boat (Lyal is the yard guy at the marina). As you recall, there was no longer an outboard on the boat, and I declined to borrow the one off Layton's boat without asking. This is where things started to go...off. First, the marina (knowing I was leaving) found a way to charge 2 days extra moorage at the daily rate, even though I had been there 10 months at the monthly rate. They also levied a $20 ramp use fee and $25 for Lyal's 10 minutes to tow me around. I'd have done it myself if I didn't have to back the boat out of the slip, first! On retrospect, I should have just done it that way...by myself.So Lyal (who is a few beer short of a six-pack, really) came over with one of the decrepit work boats and grabbed a boomkin (bowsprit on the stern) and dragged the boat out of its slip. I passed him a line, correctly routed, and he insisted on wrapping it around my spritstay (bowsprit shroud) a few times. Then he started off, HOLDING the line to Larkie, even though a perfectly good cleat was fastened to the work boat in a place perfect for towing. I watched in (relative) horror as he kept gunning the outboard and nearly dragging himself out of the workboat, holding on to the line tangled in Larkie's bowsprit rigging. I stood in the stern of Larkie, doing my best to follow Lyal's waggly course while he struggled to light a cigarette while driving the work boat and holding the Larkie's bowline at the same time. Thankfully, we had a wind astern, so I didn't have to partake in his tobacco fumes. As we approached the dock at the boat ramp he reminded me to move my fenders to the port side of the boat. This was good advice, and I did so.
We arrived at the ramp, but before Lyal would let me tie up he insisted on untying all the fenders I had just mounted, and carefully re-tying them on with well-crafted granny knots. I let this pass without comment. Although it had cost me $138 more than I expected, my boat was now ready at the ramp and was about to come out, as soon as the man with the trailer arrived. I had 10 minutes.
I wasn't sure how this whole boat-trailer-ramp thing worked with my boat, so I had brought my drysuit with me. I hurriedly struggled into it (no mean feat when you don't have a buddy to help zip you up) in order to be ready when the truck arrived.
About 20 minutes later it started to rain really heavily, so I was grateful for the rubber suit. At 10 o'clock I was concerned something was holding the boat hauler up, so I phoned. The guy at Jenkins Marine told me his guy should arrive any minute. At 10:30 he phoned back and said his trucker cancelled. CANCELLED? Not an option!
By this time I had discovered that my drysuit wristseals were a little tighter than they should be, and my purple hands were starting to hurt. I was hungry. I was FULLY EXPECTING to go home with my boat. I was emotionally charged. I was irate. And I told Mr. Jenkins Marine, not an option, get him down here. His response was "I don't know what to tell you, buddy."
So I called every other boat hauling guy around.
Mark, the owner of the marina helped me out a bit, and was made aware of my dilemma. He offered some numbers and called a few people. Bottom line, the only guy available was in Nanaimo and he wanted $1500 just to show up. Forget it! I had the suit off by this time and was coming off my anger-adrenalin. I ended up parking the boat beside the ramp and going home. I had no idea how long it would be until Rick, the guy who drives the boat truck, would be well enough to work. And at $60 a day moorage, I had no idea how much it might cost me.I went home totally emotionally drained. I couldn't sleep. I was still mad/tired/enervated. Resigned. Apathetic. I crashed hard on that. Go figure.
Long after...
Last post was years and years and years ago.
Update...
We live in the desert now (Utah) and poor old Larkie sat on the hard in Victoria. The iron sickness was extreme, and it was looking like I would have to make new frames as well as new planking. I resolved to do the work, but when we pulled the cockpit out, we found unseen damage and cruddy repairs. After a lot of heartbreak, I decided to salvage what I could from her.
I have the spars and the cabin sides. All the brass and iron. I kept the beam with her tonnage and registry, and I have the first 2 feet of her bow becoming furniture. A sad end, but the damage was done with the steel screws, and even worse, the horrible stainless wood screws splitting all of her beautiful old growth wood. Add to that almost 30 lbs of 3200 adhesive...
I also have a set of the original plans from the Rudder. The spars and brass will sail again, just as soon as I depart the desert. Larkie II coming soon to a bay near you, so says my heart.
DF
Update...
We live in the desert now (Utah) and poor old Larkie sat on the hard in Victoria. The iron sickness was extreme, and it was looking like I would have to make new frames as well as new planking. I resolved to do the work, but when we pulled the cockpit out, we found unseen damage and cruddy repairs. After a lot of heartbreak, I decided to salvage what I could from her.
I have the spars and the cabin sides. All the brass and iron. I kept the beam with her tonnage and registry, and I have the first 2 feet of her bow becoming furniture. A sad end, but the damage was done with the steel screws, and even worse, the horrible stainless wood screws splitting all of her beautiful old growth wood. Add to that almost 30 lbs of 3200 adhesive...
I also have a set of the original plans from the Rudder. The spars and brass will sail again, just as soon as I depart the desert. Larkie II coming soon to a bay near you, so says my heart.
DF
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