I have bled, my toe may be broken, I am probably broke and repairing the teak companionway hatch has been a form of torture. I still haven’t started on the varnish yet! But first, the portlight.
I removed the forward portlight on the port side after spending what must have been weeks worried about doing it. Now the hole is covered with the adhesive miracle that is shrink tape (It's gonna rip the paint right off the topside, but repainting is on my todo list. And acetone). I wanted to confirm that the portlight was the source of a wee bit of water pooling on the forward side of the bulkhead. At first, I thought it was! Luckily, I was slow to rebed and a heavy rain revealed the source to be something else. So, I removed the hatch. Next will be a stanchion.
Honestly, I should probably wait to post this entry, since all of these little projects are still in the works, but I felt you all have been waiting to read about my naiveté and this is going to deliver. I’ll create a separate entry for the portlight removal and rebedding once it is complete. I obviously think I have something to add even though this task is covered in one of the first chapters in “Leak Detection for Masochists” by D Casey (no relation, of course).
Recall, I began this adventure full of excitement and positivity. At the time, I was learning every little thing and wanted to take on a simple project that would give me an immediate outcome. The companionway hatch had a broken piece of rail lying in the cockpit when I bought it and it also had a nice coating of moss. So, I bought some starbrite cleaner, applied it with a brass brush and also a nylon one, and fired up the hose. Oh, rot, you say? The back rail came off completely and as it did, the hatch itself showed me what it was made of - layers of plywood and veneer that completely separated.
But, it was clean! To the epoxy aisle I went! Two tubes of Six10 poorer along with extra mixing nozzles, I was going to conquer this. Then, a very good friend who spent 20 years in the Navy suggested I also get some super glue made for hobbyists. So I bought that too (Zap, I think, the thin version). I have no idea how they repair ships in the Navy, but it may actually be with a wing and a prayer (Air Force reference, I know). I used the super glue in the thinner sections and those closer to the veneer layer, and I nearly hosed in the six10 between every other layer. Then I clamped and waited. It wasn't enough. Plus, I noticed that the hatch is supposed to fit into the groove of the back rail and it was already looking too thick. So, I repeated the entire process over the course of two days because I only had 6 clamps and I needed them to be close together to get this thing tight. The back rail itself is two pieces, with a top edge screwed into the main piece and covered with teak plugs. Someone else suggested I just separate those and then insert the hatch and screw it all back together. So...I did. I chiseled out all of the teak plugs (they are ⅜” by the way) and bought new screws (#10 x 2”, stainless steel). Sanding. More sanding. I had a beer or more. The second tube of epoxy was opened and I was easily 6 nozzles down! I started mixing it in a bowl because I was feeling nickel and dimed by the marine store. The hatch was epoxied to the back rail and then screwed in. I think I waited for the epoxy to dry before inserting the screws. Then I placed the top rim on with more epoxy and I did not wait to insert those screws. I was already 5 days in, plus the rainy days off and I was very antsy. The front rail was pieced back together too and it has a sizable groove of epoxy that looks like a large crack. I think the Japanese call this Kintsugi and use gold. Now, at this point, I felt I was looking ridiculous among my marina neighbors.
And I was talking smack about one versus two-part varnishes and reciting the 18-month findings published by Practical Sailor (PS). Beers. The google. I ordered from a shop in Annapolis hoping they would ship it. After what seemed like a semester in varnish studies, I was emailed that the varnish I had ordered would be out of stock for 4 more weeks (but the website claimed they had it!). I wasn’t kidding about the beers, which led me to order a varnish and a sealant from two different manufacturers, neither of which was a recommended pick of PS. I still have no idea what I was thinking. Oh, and the shop was so short staffed that shipping would also be a couple of weeks. So, I drove the dreaded 48 minutes and picked it up, while spending another wallet’s worth on weird little things that are still in the bag. Meanwhile, I had also purchased a new electrical panel (AC/DC) and needed to get the AC Isolation cover from a different supplier (PKYS) in the same town. So, I decided to blow off the day and wander the back room of Bacon’s, chat with the staff, and peruse the used books. I have no idea if my children ate that day. The next day, I opened the bag of varnish to discover the error in my order. Whatever, it’s done.
I applied the second coat of sealer today. Tomorrow goes the varnish. There is so much more mental anguish to this story than I am sharing. I need to move on now.
I have an old Atomic 4 that was not working and was missing parts. Still questioning if my outboard engine is any good, I removed the instrument panel and the shifters from the cockpit. More shrink tape covers that hole. Later I will reglass it (for fun). I broke my pinky toe earlier that week on another person’s boat. Next, I bled. This part of my story includes my boat builder mentor, because removing an engine in parts takes some wisdom that I have yet to gain. While she (yes, she!) had sparks flying with a circular saw cutting through the exhaust pipe (I think), I was with ratchet in hand removing bolts. Until my brute strength (haha) bent the ratchet as blood dripped down my hands from all the scraping against the metal (rusted). I screamed like the sailor I am and decided I would do something different. Generally, that means go out on a paddle board or sit on the neighbor’s boat and chat about pandemics and politics (don't worry, I’m an aging Gen X’er too jaded to think I know anything at all). The rest of the engine is still bolted to the cabin sole.
I hired an actual electrician to rewire the boat without getting a solid estimate (friend of the boat builder and all that). My heart is actually clenched worried about what this is going to cost me. I did buy a nice panel though. Blue Sea Systems 8084. I don’t know any better, but it fits in the space and has meters and was less than I expected. Supposedly getting installed this week.
I’m tired. It’s 2 am and I just ate dinner.
By the way, I have been on this site and others so often while at home, that I caught one of my children putting peanut butter in the dog's bone and then licking the knife. It may have been the only food they had all day.
More later. I want to sail now!
I removed the forward portlight on the port side after spending what must have been weeks worried about doing it. Now the hole is covered with the adhesive miracle that is shrink tape (It's gonna rip the paint right off the topside, but repainting is on my todo list. And acetone). I wanted to confirm that the portlight was the source of a wee bit of water pooling on the forward side of the bulkhead. At first, I thought it was! Luckily, I was slow to rebed and a heavy rain revealed the source to be something else. So, I removed the hatch. Next will be a stanchion.
Honestly, I should probably wait to post this entry, since all of these little projects are still in the works, but I felt you all have been waiting to read about my naiveté and this is going to deliver. I’ll create a separate entry for the portlight removal and rebedding once it is complete. I obviously think I have something to add even though this task is covered in one of the first chapters in “Leak Detection for Masochists” by D Casey (no relation, of course).
Recall, I began this adventure full of excitement and positivity. At the time, I was learning every little thing and wanted to take on a simple project that would give me an immediate outcome. The companionway hatch had a broken piece of rail lying in the cockpit when I bought it and it also had a nice coating of moss. So, I bought some starbrite cleaner, applied it with a brass brush and also a nylon one, and fired up the hose. Oh, rot, you say? The back rail came off completely and as it did, the hatch itself showed me what it was made of - layers of plywood and veneer that completely separated.
But, it was clean! To the epoxy aisle I went! Two tubes of Six10 poorer along with extra mixing nozzles, I was going to conquer this. Then, a very good friend who spent 20 years in the Navy suggested I also get some super glue made for hobbyists. So I bought that too (Zap, I think, the thin version). I have no idea how they repair ships in the Navy, but it may actually be with a wing and a prayer (Air Force reference, I know). I used the super glue in the thinner sections and those closer to the veneer layer, and I nearly hosed in the six10 between every other layer. Then I clamped and waited. It wasn't enough. Plus, I noticed that the hatch is supposed to fit into the groove of the back rail and it was already looking too thick. So, I repeated the entire process over the course of two days because I only had 6 clamps and I needed them to be close together to get this thing tight. The back rail itself is two pieces, with a top edge screwed into the main piece and covered with teak plugs. Someone else suggested I just separate those and then insert the hatch and screw it all back together. So...I did. I chiseled out all of the teak plugs (they are ⅜” by the way) and bought new screws (#10 x 2”, stainless steel). Sanding. More sanding. I had a beer or more. The second tube of epoxy was opened and I was easily 6 nozzles down! I started mixing it in a bowl because I was feeling nickel and dimed by the marine store. The hatch was epoxied to the back rail and then screwed in. I think I waited for the epoxy to dry before inserting the screws. Then I placed the top rim on with more epoxy and I did not wait to insert those screws. I was already 5 days in, plus the rainy days off and I was very antsy. The front rail was pieced back together too and it has a sizable groove of epoxy that looks like a large crack. I think the Japanese call this Kintsugi and use gold. Now, at this point, I felt I was looking ridiculous among my marina neighbors.
And I was talking smack about one versus two-part varnishes and reciting the 18-month findings published by Practical Sailor (PS). Beers. The google. I ordered from a shop in Annapolis hoping they would ship it. After what seemed like a semester in varnish studies, I was emailed that the varnish I had ordered would be out of stock for 4 more weeks (but the website claimed they had it!). I wasn’t kidding about the beers, which led me to order a varnish and a sealant from two different manufacturers, neither of which was a recommended pick of PS. I still have no idea what I was thinking. Oh, and the shop was so short staffed that shipping would also be a couple of weeks. So, I drove the dreaded 48 minutes and picked it up, while spending another wallet’s worth on weird little things that are still in the bag. Meanwhile, I had also purchased a new electrical panel (AC/DC) and needed to get the AC Isolation cover from a different supplier (PKYS) in the same town. So, I decided to blow off the day and wander the back room of Bacon’s, chat with the staff, and peruse the used books. I have no idea if my children ate that day. The next day, I opened the bag of varnish to discover the error in my order. Whatever, it’s done.
I applied the second coat of sealer today. Tomorrow goes the varnish. There is so much more mental anguish to this story than I am sharing. I need to move on now.
I have an old Atomic 4 that was not working and was missing parts. Still questioning if my outboard engine is any good, I removed the instrument panel and the shifters from the cockpit. More shrink tape covers that hole. Later I will reglass it (for fun). I broke my pinky toe earlier that week on another person’s boat. Next, I bled. This part of my story includes my boat builder mentor, because removing an engine in parts takes some wisdom that I have yet to gain. While she (yes, she!) had sparks flying with a circular saw cutting through the exhaust pipe (I think), I was with ratchet in hand removing bolts. Until my brute strength (haha) bent the ratchet as blood dripped down my hands from all the scraping against the metal (rusted). I screamed like the sailor I am and decided I would do something different. Generally, that means go out on a paddle board or sit on the neighbor’s boat and chat about pandemics and politics (don't worry, I’m an aging Gen X’er too jaded to think I know anything at all). The rest of the engine is still bolted to the cabin sole.
I hired an actual electrician to rewire the boat without getting a solid estimate (friend of the boat builder and all that). My heart is actually clenched worried about what this is going to cost me. I did buy a nice panel though. Blue Sea Systems 8084. I don’t know any better, but it fits in the space and has meters and was less than I expected. Supposedly getting installed this week.
I’m tired. It’s 2 am and I just ate dinner.
By the way, I have been on this site and others so often while at home, that I caught one of my children putting peanut butter in the dog's bone and then licking the knife. It may have been the only food they had all day.
More later. I want to sail now!
