Sunday, August 4, 2013

Cleats, Boxes, and Box Springs

Hard to believe it's been a month since posting, and even harder to believe there's actually been progress on the boat. The last few weeks in and out of the garage have been a bit of a whirlwind. Keen readers will remember that my bosses were all fired a couple months back. I've been assigned some new stuff because of that which takes up a boatload (!) of time. I've had a couple interviews with the special investigator for the State Department with all the paperwork that follows. My wife and I also got our ASA 101 for kicks with the ultimate goal to charter a boat in the Caribbean for our friend's wedding next year. I've been lucky enough to go sailing in the interim (including Chucky B!) and then spent a weekend at a friend's cabin. When I got back, I spent an inordinate amount of time setting up, breaking down, and setting up bedroom furniture, too. And then have been dealing with some family health issues. So while I haven't made a ton of progress, as someone said elsewhere, any progress is moving forward.

Sunset in Wisconsin.

This guy put up a hell of a fight.
Tom does a flip into Lake Pepin.

Bought & built a new bed for the upstairs bedroom. Yes, it's an IKEA special.
Moved the upstairs bed to the downstairs guest room.
With the big bed gone, the panels had to move downstairs.
In terms of boatbuilding, most of the last few weeks have been working on the cleats that support the cockpit deck. As noted in the manual, this is a piece of cake. As noted on every blog, it's actually not. There's a lot of dry fitting, wet fitting, damp fitting, and just plain fits to get this just right. I figured if I glued up the footwell sides, that would give me a good start as to where and how to fit everything else.

I think that worked well, as I didn't have to deal with straight edges and guesstimates since I had the footwell basically installed and I put the cleats all around it. That part wasn't so bad. The bad part was the few times I had to remake said cleats because they kept splitting. Yes, I pre-drilled. But Menard's Finest Select Pine (MFSP) can barely support its own weight, nevermind a temporary dry wall screw.

Using the footwell sides as guides worked pretty well.
This is actually towards the end, as you can see pretty much all cleats in place.


Rather than a single cleat across Bulkhead 7, I just measured and used two so I didn't have to cut it.

The forward cleats off Bulkhead 8 through 7. These extend 24" past bulkhead 7, or about even with the centerboard trunk. The hull cleats are slightly behind on purpose. I wanted a little bit of a "curve" when viewing this from inside the cabin. I figured an inch or two here wouldn't be a disaster. All parts are rounded over and smoothed.
The manual also isn't clear as to where the notches in Bulkhead 8 go for the cleats that run forward and aft. They're in the drawings, but the dimensions aren't given. They might be in the full blown plans, but kit builders don't get the full plans. As usual, I was stuck until I wrote Chris, who said he had the same trouble at the same spot and John C. Harris himself wrote back with the specs. While he no longer had the drawings, he had the specs, and shared them with me. Fellow readers, here they are! Drum roll! 14" outboard and parallel to the footwell sides. The cleat that runs forward is 11" outboard, leaving 3" between notches. The forward cleats should end at the centerboard trunk as the side ones do (or should).

Cutting the notches in Bulkhead 8. This is where some woodworking experience came in handy. Ever had to make a boxtail joint by hand? Congrats, you can make a pretty good notch. As noted, the notches are 11" and 14", respectively, outboard from the edge of the footwell side. Also note I installed the cleats on BH8 facing the watertight compartment vs. into the cabin, the reverse of the plans.
The cleats that run aft provide the rough framing for the lazarette hatches. In reality, there is no real structural issue with 14" vs. 12" vs. 11" but moreso the risk of cutting through the cleat than not. In other words, better to err on the side of larger (more outboard) than shorter. The only thing affected might be the size of the hatch actually used, so as long as the width is less than 14" -- and nearly all of them will be -- you'll be fine.

Another handy number to remember is 15 degrees. This is the angle of the transom off vertical (therefore, the angle of the rear part of any cleat glued to the transom) and also the angle off the hull sides. So when the long cleat that runs from the transom into the cabin is cut, you should set your table saw to 15 degrees. Since there's a complex corner at the hull side to the transom, cutting both at 15 degrees will yield a really nice connection in the corners. Of course, I miscut the angle on the starboard cleat, so don't do what I did. I'll be making a small patch to fix this.

Some blogs recommend precutting the transom cleats from behind before gluing to make it easier, then notching it out later. I didn't do that. Instead, I used two separate pieces to mate with the cleat coming aft from Bulkhead 8.

I cut the angle wrong on the starboard hull cleat and lost 3/4" of an inch. Rather than recut, I lined up the forward spot with its fancy rounded edges and will add a small block here to compensate. Of course, this will be in the watertight area (not visible) so whatever. You can see the aft-facing cleat from bulkhead 8 here glued to the transom cleat, which was two parts.

Port side transom/hull cleat connection fit much better. when in doubt, cut everything at 15 degrees.
With the cleats in and me moving the large panels around, I couldn't help but drop the cockpit deck into the hull. That felt awesome! Can't wait until it drops down for good. It fits surprisingly well. There will need to be some fillet fun as some angles here and there are larger than others (maybe 1/8" - 1/4" off) but nothing that a little planing won't cure. While the size is a bit of an illusion since the outboard 1/5th or so will be taken up by the seat backs, it does give a sense of the hugeness of the cockpit and how roomy it is. I've said it earlier and I'll say again: the cockpit, proportionally, is the biggest in nature, much like the barnacle. I've been on 36' and 30' boats and they don't feel as roomy.

Cockpit deck dropped onto the framing. That was one sweet moment.
I also finally finished up the fillets of the bow compartment.  I was going to let this one sit until the floors were done, but I want to start using materials and boat parts and the lower breasthook is just begging to be installed. I used a lot of epoxy in there: 4 layers of fillets on the bottom part of the bow, 3 on the sides, and 3 running up the middle, not counting filler fillets to smooth out the bumps. (I sand less than I used to and just smooth with thickened epoxy - much faster that way.) I think in total there are 90 pumps of epoxy plus wood flour in here. Why so many? Because I'm going to be ramming into docks, logs, and jet skiers and need the added protection.

About 2 months in the making. I'd been putting this off for so long. The turned out well, finally, after a lot of epoxy, denatured alcohol, and cursing.
The bow hook will also be installed here and I need a really good grip for that, too. There will easily be 4-6 layers of 'glass in there, but that's another day. I then threw in the bilge pump box. I wasn't sure why, but since it belongs in the boat and I had to clear out the bedroom, figure I'd put it here for now.

Adding a small bilge pump between Bulkhead 7 and 6. It will dump into the footwell.
I knew I'd need to mix up a lot of epoxy and didn't want the workout I normally get. I fashioned epoxy stirrers out of cut plastic coat hangers. Sure, all of my clothes sit in a heap in the closet, but hey - they worked great. The only trick with using these is to be sure the mixing is done at slow to medium speed or else bubbles wind up in the mix, like making a meringue, but far less tasty. Care must also be taken not to muck up the drill. I'll make these longer next time.

Finely crafted epoxy stirrers from plastic coat hangers.
With the final (for now) bow fillets drying, I officially started on the sole. I liked the idea of an accent plank from Jon's boat and decided to put one here, too. It will give a nice symmetry when standing in the cockpit (tiller -> accent plank -> bowsprit) and break up the dark orange/rustic of the padauk floor. Another reason is this allows the planks to be fit straight along the centerboard trunk on either side vs. having to cut a notch 3' long. The centerboard trunk is 1 3/4" thick. Lots of small cuts to determine the pattern yielded a simple 3/8" ash x 1" padauk x 3/8" ash lamination.

Accent plank under construction. Pretty simple but took awhile to get it Just Right since this will be so highly visible.
Test fit of the accent board before glue up. I left it a little long so I could cut it back. This was a lesson learned from the boom gallows / tiller build. Gonna look nice once it's cleaned up and varnished.

After cutting the accent plank, I sized and built the battery box holder. I'm not sure what angles are needed to secure the battery box holder to the hull; probably pretty steep, so a test fit was required.

Sideways or no? This is pre-sanding of the locker. It's now sanded!

Cut strap opening with bandsaw and sanded down. This whole contraption will be epoxy'd over the next few days. Eventually, it will be painted white.

Test fit of the box. Fits great. There's hope for the companionway hatch after all.
The accent plank and battery platform got a fair share of glue and will be cleaned up tomorrow. Before dedicating a couple days to the sole, I'd also like to make the main speaker boxes, shelving units for the cabin locker, and cleats for the lazarette shelving to provide spacing between the flotation at the transom. I tested the blue LEDs I plan to use in the cockpit lockers. They look pretty sweet. I'm thinking about putting another set in the lazarette, too.


Long way to go but the pages keep turning.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Bury the Rail!

Yep, the title says it all. I'm out of my PocketShip doldrums and falling off the wind to pick up some speed. I went on a race / sail on Lake Pepin today, manning the jibsheets for a 30' sloop out of Lake City. Winds were steady at 15kn all day and of course were coming out of the marina. Again. Which meant heavy heeling as the quickest way back. It was fun and spirited sailing and I could do it in my shorts this time instead of my January Minnesota gear.

Lake Pepin splashes against the bow.
Heeled over pretty good. The horizon is crooked, not the boat.

I got home and headed for a fantastic little hole in the wall BBQ joint on 48th and Nicolett where I treated myself to a half slab of baby backs, double shot of beans, and peach cobbler. Heated of course. Finished with that and avoiding the beer that usually accompanies such a meal, I sanded half a bay (progress, right?) then decided to prep the footwell sides and floor. The only space in the shop that can safely hold pieces this size is the boat itself. Figured now's the time to do it before I muck it all up with an actual finished boat.

Outboard footwell sides getting epoxy. Bulkheads 7 and 8 serve as saw horses.
Since the manual doesn't call for 'glass for the outboard footwell sides, they sure as heck get epoxy, so the first layer of that went down tonight. The manual also isn't specific on 'glass for the bottom of the footwell (the side facing the hull) so I laid 'glass there.
The bottom of the footwell gets 'glassed. The bow compartment makes a nice saw horse, too.
A bit of a problem as my small garage originally forced me to run around the stern to get to the other end of the bow, so I opened the garage door. That was a great decision. The street lamps added a little more light and a cool breeze came through every now and then, not strong enough to affect the 'glass but enough to freshen the air and lift the spirits. Boatbuilding was fun again. I felt a little bit like those guys in Vegas who paint space scenes on the street corner. I've never seen anyone buy one of them but it sure is fun to watch.

Painting by Andrew McAttee - acrylic and spray paint on canvas
An acrylic painting by Andrew McAttee. Wonder if this matches tanbark?

I had a little extra epoxy in the cup so I put a third layer down at the fresh compartment #2 and thickened it up for some divets here and there. Time and desire willing, I should be finished sanding the hull except for the bow by Tuesday night. Taking the page from other builders, I'm likely to ignore the bow compartment until a little while later.

The storage locker with the final 3rd layer of epoxy.
While my goal of having the sole down before my wife gets back Thursday won't happen, I'm pretty sure I'll be ready sooner than later. Fun day on the water and in the garage.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

TIcking Away the Moments That Make Up a Dull Day

I'm sure that every PocketShip builder has thought of at least one, if not all, of these three things:
  1. I should've just bought a boat.
  2. That fillet looks good enough.
  3. I'd rather ________ than sand some more.
Tonight, I thought of all of them in about a 10 minute span, for about the 100th time. I wish I had a better excuse to explain my lack of progress on the boat, but the reality is I simply didn't want to work on it.

I did a nasty job of tack welding the forward two compartments (which keen readers will recall were my first two, thinking I'd get these "practice" runs out of the way) so I spent quite a bit of time getting rid of those bumps and ridges. I then figured I'd have enough time to lay down a set of fillets before dinner, go to dinner, and clean up any bad parts before they cured. I completely miscalculated how much a warm garage would accelerate curing. I came back from dinner, prepared to apply some denatured alcohol to smooth things out. Lo and behold, everything was cured, meaning I was stuck with the rush job I laid down. It's not about aesthetics but about safety. Fiberglass of course won't lie flat unless it has a flat surface to lie upon, thereby providing its structural integrity. Might as well be sailing in a cardboard box otherwise.

Frustrated, and looking at a couple hours of awkward sanding, I put the gloves away and resigned myself to working on it tomorrow. Tomorrow came and I was busy doing something else. The second tomorrow came and went without even opening the garage. Three stretched into four and before I knew it, I found myself learning a new bagpipe tune, brushing up on my mediocre Arabic, and playing a lot of online poker. Anything to avoid the garage and the beast within. A full week went by and then we were off to Bayfield for a sailing charter in the Apostle Islands in Lake Superior.

Fog and miserable weather kept us near the marina in Bayfield most of the weekend, but we did manage to sail for a few hours a day, just not anchored off one of the islands. Winds at times kicked up past 25 knots blowing right out the marina which meant heavy heeling and close haul tacking to get back. It was spirited sailing for sure, but downright cold. I was dressed for it but I can't wait for a real summer sail!

A rare view of the shore with the fog lifting.
Doing some sailoring, I forget what. I think I just put a reef in.
Anita at the helm. She likes steering in circles, not unlike on land.

The upside of being stranded in the marina is all the great food and baked goods we could get. I was introduced to "wine bread," a specialty from one of the bake shops up there. It's reason enough to go back. I thought about PocketShip in the garage and how sailing trips like these usually motivate me to work on it. But not this time. The only thoughts crossing my mind was how I was going to avoid sanding those fillets, and how I could swing the financials of buying this 36' Islander.

We got home and another week of more stalling. Very busy, I was. Can't work on the boat today. Too tired and anyway just one more time through the tune/one more hand/one more word to learn.

Then a magical thing happened: Chris stopped by to say hello. I thought it was the notary who left his stamp at my house at first. They have the same demeanor but I'm 110% sure Chris is better with power tools. Chris was on his way to the Hobby superstore near my house to pick up some rocket supplies to celebrate the Fourth. I wondered if it's possible to use the tiller with 3 fingers instead of 5 but kept that to myself.

In any case, Chris said things were looking great, mentioned he was out on Chucky B. last Tuesday, tossed a few pointers for the bow, shook my hand, and left to source a few rockets. I watched them drive away and decided the rest of the day would be dedicated to the boat. When he left my garage, I mixed up some epoxy and smoothed out the bad fillets in the storage locker from two weeks earlier. While that cured, I picked up the sander and did the first bay in two weeks. After a little alcohol, I laid out some fiberglass in the storage locker and wet it out. Electricity was on my mind, so I drove to the Marine store and picked up a circuit panel and some electronic essentials. Motivated, I pulled out the battery and hooked up my new GPS/Fishfinder. I then put down a second coat, pulled some masking tape that got embedded in the bow compartment, and cleaned up a bit for tomorrow's work, which will be more sanding and the other half of the bay. On a roll!

Epoxy avoidance project #3: Hooked up battery to new GPS/Fishfinder, circuit panel, and battery cables. I then had to disassemble it all because I don't need a GPS/Fishfinder on my kitchen table.

Laying out the 'glass. It's a 25x30 piece (basically half the roll) angled. The angle's fine, just means more coverage.
Wet out the 'glass in the storage locker. This will be the first of several strips along the keelson here.
Sanded on the right, not so much on the left.
My wife is on an Alaskan cruise with her Dad as a retirement present. I can't say I'm stuck here because I've got some good, upcoming plans, including some sailing tomorrow with the club, and of course with her away I don't feel guilty working in the garage on the boat. There's a long way to go, but the longest journey begins with the first drop of epoxy.