Thursday, July 16, 2020

Rub Rails Revisited: Port Hull Sanding Prep

With the time zone difference between here and Washington, I got out of "work" pretty early.  Today I was done with what I needed to do at 2pm.  My wife decided to run some errands without me which meant I had free reign in the garage.

I'd spent the last week or so getting acclimated to the time zone, prepping the garage, and ordering needed supplies.  Today was the first day I got to do some work despite the glorious weather: it's a perfect day to sail on a finished boat instead of sanding an unfinished one

I'm gearing up to 'glass the bottom and paint -- that's the goal for the these weeks.  Before I can do that, I need to clean up the undersides as much as possible.  There are many ways to do this but I figured I'd start with the rub rails.

Running stern to bow, the rub rails provide good looks and a little protection from bumping into things.  They probably give a little structural stability but if missing not much would be lost or gained except maybe 100 hours of cussing to build, attach, and prep them.  In the end, they really do look good and I'm glad they're on the boat.

Here's a good view of what's to come.  You can see where the topside fiberglass comes down a few inches past the rub rail.


Try as hard as I did to keep this clean when putting this together, there are obvious voids and epoxy lumps all along the length.

I can't really use thickened epoxy here because of the color so it'll be clear stuff poured to fill the voids and careful sanding to knock down the highlights.  The idea is to get a smooth surface in order to apply a light fillet between the rub rail and the hull, and then bring 'glass down to cover the first two rub rail laminations.  I figure that'll provide some real strength as this would not only overlap a few inches from the topside 'glass, but also bring it along the bottom of the rail.  The top view of the rails have similar issues but will not be 'glassed.  I'm not sure if that's better or worse in the end.


This wasn't easy, though, as the angle between the rub rail and the hull is pretty sharp and the wood is meant to be decorative.  Hit it too hard and the whole purpose of the rub rail would be lost.  The 15-foot length took about 2 hours of careful sanding, or about 40 seconds per inch.

Clearly, the rub rail epoxy work at the bow was better than at the stern.  I'm not sure why except maybe I had better access to the bow at the time.  I remember I did most of this work with the garage door open for easy access to the bow, but in order to do that, I had to push most of my equipment towards the back, thereby preventing some access.  So maybe I just had better bow access?  Who knows.

Tired, I set that aside for a bit and came back to it to finish the port side of the hull but once again noticed a few weird things about how I left this.  It was like stumbling into a campsite and finding the coffee pot over the fire but no one else around.
 

In any case, above is a photo of the bow before cleanup.  You can see where I stopped the topside fiberglass in 2014.  I forget why I did that -- probably because to keep going would've meant to clean up the bow and I either didn't have time and/or didn't feel like it.  Fast forward a few years, and this is now a shiny, smooth object waiting for some filler and its own fiberglass layers.


Inspired, I then went up and tackled the keel joint.  Again, I don't remember what I was thinking here, as this had evidence of some sanding but not completion.  I can only conclude that I was not happy with the joint because there's definitely a bulge where the fillet sagged on itself.  So rather than being a nice, concave shape, it's more like a long lump, especially in the middle.  Sanding this down would not be fun, and this is probably why I delayed the effort, not realizing the delay would be 5 years.

A couple more hours later, it's about ready for a new, fat fillet sometime in the not-so-distant future.  It wasn't as bad as my younger self thought it would be.


So, port is about done.  Prepare to tack!

Tuesday, July 14, 2020

The Rise of Sun Monkey

A lifetime ago, I shut down PocketShip production for a job that would take me away from everything I'd known for the last 10 years.  Two years in Nigeria and two years in China later, with a year in Washington in between, and here we are, back in the garage!

I never knew when I'd be able to come back to it, if ever, except maybe if I found a job in Washington where I could drag the dregs of the boat from garage to garage and hope my work hours and neighbors allowed me to sand at all hours of the night.  But thanks(?) to the COVID situation, where all training has moved online, I'm back in Minnesota at least through October and maybe longer.

When I moved the last time, I packed up most of my stuff and shipped it to storage.  This included all of my shop gear:  sanders, drill press, table saw, routers, clamps, miter saw, horses, etc, etc.  I'm pretty much devoid of all.  I can pull the stuff out of storage, but it'll take $300 and 3 months to get here, and that doesn't seem worth it.  So what to do?  Order more stuff, I guess.

I prioritized a new orbital sander and a shop vac.  Then I got on the horn with Ed at CLC and asked what he recommended to finish the boat.  Three days, 26 yards of 'glass, and a MAS epoxy kit later, I'm back in business.  Interestingly, there was a little pamphlet with the MAS kit that said the little pumps were not available due to COVID.  With supply chains disrupted they gave detailed instructions on how to pour into cups and mix them that way.  That will not be fun.


I also dug up all sorts of memories: all the lines, the lovely portholes and anchor chocks, the electronics, tiller, boom gallows, and even stuff off the old MacGregor that didn't make it to the Sea Scouts.  It was a trip down memory lane!  I even found my old paint.  Unopened, I'm sure they're OK.  I think?


I then dusted off the hull from whatever's been on it.  Still a little work to do here.



One place I didn't go was into the cabin itself.  I'm afraid to look in there as I fear something's camped in the cabin before I could.  But a little fear is good:  it keeps people motivated to take care but keep going.  And I plan to keep going as far as I can in the short time I have.

Sun Monkey rises again!

Monday, December 22, 2014

Travel Orders

Some time ago, I wrote on these pages that I actually started this blog to trace my efforts to join the Department of State as a Foreign Service Officer. Last May, I passed the final test, the interviews in DC, and then spent the next year or so waiting for my clearances (one must earn a Class 1 worldwide medical and a TOP SECRET clearance, which is a whole 'nother process entirely). In the meantime, I went about my life including some travel, boatbuilding, and sailing in the Caribbean.

While in St. Maarten, I received notice that all the final hurdles had been passed and I was cleared to be hired.  Then I had to wait for Congress to get its act together, pass a budget, and provide hiring authority for the next diplomatic boot camp called A-100.  Well, that next boot camp is January, 2015 and I received my official travel orders last week.  In other words, less than 3 weeks from now as I write this.  I will be packing up what I can on January 8 and driving out to begin a new career and life as a federal employee.

What does that mean for PocketShip?  It's no secret that I've been, at times, a lazy builder.  With other things to do and higher priorities, I've let the boat lag.  So as I've seen boats started later than mine sail before mine, I have to admit a twinge of jealousy and more-than-annoyance with myself.  But I never thought I could finish within the 18 month time frame I set.  I'd always said two years, which would be May 2015, and that's the schedule I was internally working towards.

As it sits, it has the keel fillets in place (but not sanded) and I think I can get it 'glassed and sanded before it goes into hibernation.  If I can get it painted, that would be terrific but I have a million and four things to do between now and January 8 and I  just don't see it happening.  Taking it with me isn't an option.  I'll be living in an apartment complex with no access to power tools, a garage, or space.

That means PocketShip will be moved into the garage next door for storage.  I will cover it and gently put it away here in Minnesota until I'm able to tackle the myriad bits and pieces it will take to finish it.  It's a bitter pill; I'm not one to leave projects incomplete.  It's also not lost on me that I'm moving about an hour from CLC and would have unfettered access to equipment, hardware, and assistance.  So I'm thinking maybe if all goes well, once the dust settles out there, I might be able to come back and trailer it to DC and bring it a bit closer to home, wherever home might be.

Until then, this is likely the last PocketShip post you'll see from me for awhile.  I hope what I've written on these pages was slightly entertaining and maybe even a little bit helpful.  I've enjoyed the build and the interaction with the community.  I've made real friends from these pages and to them I'm eternally grateful for the assistance and support over the last 18 months.  This isn't the end, though, just a slight pause in what comes next.

Before signing off, let me reveal the worst-kept-secret in the history of boatbuidling:  the name.  My PocketShip will be called, of course, Sun Monkey.  Save me a spot in the flotilla.

-Larry