Staging Areas

Another late night at the ol' shipyard. No blood yet, but certainly some sweat and tears. Since the joy that was the lead pour, there have been a few setbacks. Some minor, some not so minor. I'm thinking the shakedown sails should last 3 years and never be in water deeper than 3 feet. Here are just a few of the lowlights:

• The cinderblocks that held the keel together for the lead pour were too tight, causing an hourglass shape on the aft part of the keel. I had to shim this back open a bit and pour another 10-15 pounds of lead in there.

• In dragging the keel over to the garage from the backyard, I hit the noseblock against a tree, knocking off about 1/4 of an inch of my nice and smooth nose. I epoxy'd some stuff in place in my lame attempt at rhinoplasty.

• One of the bilge panel fingerjoints aren't aligned right after not having them flat against the ground. I thought by putting them on a 2x4 that would help as my garage is not terribly flat. It caused some to pull out of alignment. I'll need to epoxy these down and fair them before the install.

• The keel blocking was not correctly set way back when I didn't have plans. So rather than keeping 1/2" from the top clear at the butt joint, I had that go all the way to the top. That meant chiseling out space for the cap.

So there you have it. Just a month in and enough setbacks to make me think I should've started with the boat cradle instead of PocketShip. In the meantime, I've decided to push hard for the hull assembly this weekend. The various lower hull parts are strewn around the house waiting for their turn.

Top side panels getting a good night's rest in the guest bedroom.

I'll then need to sand these down (after fixing the finger joints where relevant) to prepare for the 'glass. I haven't done 'glass on this scale before so I'm not sure what to expect. I'll also need to do final prep on the keel, such as installing the keelson and allowing that to cure. It's close, but not ready. There's also a bit of a race against the clock as we're due for a cold front in a couple days. It was 82 degrees Sunday and it will be maybe 40 as a high Thursday. Welcome to Minnesota!

The basement shop is next to the family room. No room in the shop? Use the family room!

Side panels getting glued & pressured. Bilge panels done but will need to epoxy them smooth since the finger joints got a little misaligned. The thing with all the clamps is the keel cap getting glued shut.

Some things that have gone well are the epoxy layers on the floors and cleats. I've gotten pretty good at mixing epoxy (thickened or not) and don't waste nearly as much as I did in the beginning. I finished up the smaller floors tonight; they're ready to be installed.

Floors ready for duty. Not the centerboard - he's gonna wait a bit.

I now have the larger bulkheads cleated with their first epoxy layer drying. With the weather warming up, I also need to be more efficient with the epoxy coats. The plan is to do the first layer of epoxy before going to bed, then a second layer when I get up ~6 hours later. That means no sanding in between coats. It also allows me to do the other side when I get home from work, and then second layer of the second side before going to bed. 24 hours and I'll have 2 layers down vs. over 2 days which is what's happening now. With a small shop, these logistics are important if I want to finish before maxing my social security.

Larger bulkheads drying out. Large bulkhead in front is a highly visible, important bit. I'd like to keep this mostly bright so trying to do a real pro job here.

One thing I noticed is that there is no electrical conduit hole pre-cut on bulkhead 7. I'm not sure if this is intentional or not but if I want to run a stern light, I'll need one. Not a big deal as I planned to cut a second set of smaller holes the length of the boat for a second line, but it adds to the half dozen or so annoying things about the kit (aft keel blocking not labeled in the manual; aft keel blocking pattern too short; Joubert stickers exactly where I don't want them so I have to sand them off; etc). I haven't built a boat before so perhaps this is normal. But it's been five years since the prototype launched so someone should go back and edit the stuff. If you're reading this, CLC, I heart you ... but sometimes you make it difficult.

I think I also found the culprit to the photo upload issues I've been having with blogger. I recently did a Java patch which mucked up a couple other things. Hopefully blogger figures this out or else this will be one text heavy blog.

Spring Has (Finally) Sprung

I went outside today and was amazed at the difference a few days makes.

This didn't look like this 3 days ago.

Just a couple days ago, I was waxing philosophical, wondering what grilled groundhog tastes like, for that little bastard got the timing of spring all shades of wrong. Alas, we hit 72 degrees today; the snow's gone, so are the winter doldrums. The faint smell of summer was in the air: budding trees, lillies, and lilacs. What could possibly be missing from such a sweet and serene scene? Why, bubbling lead, plastic, and adhesive, of course!

Who needs lilacs when you can have lead?

Enthused, I broke out the safety gear and the components of my smelter and hooked it all up together. The smelting equipment was pretty bare bones but worked well. I got the idea for the setup from the good old boys of West Virginia, the same fellas who melt tire weights for buckshot and fishing lures. They know what they're doing; some claim they've melted tons of lead. How? Slowly, carefully, and courtesy of Wal Mart. My burner is a double camp stove from Coleman, one that uses standard 16.4 oz propane tanks. I was in the market for one anyway, so the $30 was worth it.

The foundry, courtesy of Wal Mart. Keel nose block awaits the pour.

The cast iron skillets came as a set of 3. I used 2 in this effort, saving the largest one for something that might resemble real cooking some day. The key to these skillets is the little lip for the pour. You definitely want to be able to guide the pour evenly. I was not disappointed. The handle was a little short, making grasping this a little on the delicate side. But the skillets held up under the heat and was just big enough to manage the weight of the lead. Finally, an important component is the scraper. I used a stainless steel egg turner. I have seen some fairly complex smelting set ups and I can say with certainty that it's not needed.

Yeah, this might be overkill.

I knew it'd be a day-long project (judging from other bloggers) so I set about early. I quickly settled into a rhythm: do a couple melts and pours, work some emails, do some more melts and pours, some lunch, an in depth discussion on a major work deliverable, melts and pours, and finally, relief. Part of the relief is that lead is heavy. It's quite a work out. It also took a few sessions to get into the rhythm and to understand how much to do at any one time. Smelt too much and you may not be able to control the pour. Smelt too little and you might be spending the better part of a week getting the requisite number of pounds.

I started with the centerboard with the eBay lead. I was surprised how well it melted. I set a timer for 6 minutes and it was melted in 4. By the way, melted lead is really pretty. Silky smooth, it looks like liquid mercury but more silvery. I'm on the lookout for one of those cast iron corn cob things so I can make lead weights from the leftover, as setting up the smelting stuff is a pain and while it's there might as well melt some more stuff.

Centerboard with one pour to go. Will add epoxy and sand smooth.

With the centerboard done, I set up the keel. That was a bit of a balancing act. I melted and poured the remaining of the nice eBay lead then started on the tire weights. Not sure what to expect, I got everything I thought and more. Wow, that stuff is nasty. If I could spell carcinogen I would. I'm not surprised people give up at this point and run out and buy $260 worth of pure lead shot but I think that's a bit of an overreaction. As long as this is done outside, away from delicate things like people and pets, and you're wearing a respirator and full safety gear, it's not so bad. It took around 10 pours to get the 90+ pounds of the keel aft section done. I did all of this at one time, but there's no reason for that, as the manual says. A technique I picked up towards the end was to skim the major dross off the top of the melt, then carefully add another handful of weights. With lead already melted, the new stuff melts pretty quickly and you've got an instant 2-3 pounds with very little extra work.

Lead will smoke and bubble when first poured. Smells like camping. The bubbles are to ensure the pour didn't disrupt the levels.

Finished keel nose block. This will be leveled with epoxy before the keelson gets attached.

The aft part of the keel about half-way poured. Took a break here for lunch. Notice the bow in the middle.

Omelette please. Bacon, sausage, and extra tire weight clips. The long weight in the middle was not lead after all.

First bucket (plus eBay stuff) done.

A few things to keep in mind if you're going to try this. Just to reiterate: you absolutely, 110%, must have a good, working respirator. The stuff that bubbles off spells cancer as it floats above the lead. You must also have good welder's gloves, eye wear, face shield, long pants, and long sleeves. There's no point in risking life and limb for this. Suit up and be diligent.

Another thing you may have noticed in one of the photos above is how the long length of the keelson looks a little squeezed from the clamps and landscape bricks. I didn't notice this when I was first poured, but only much later when I was about to secure the cap. It turned out I had a good 1/4" at least on both sides when the wood came back out, meaning I poured too little lead. A later post details this adventure.

An easy fix here, if these are the materials you have, would be to clamp a 2x4 or something similar the length of each side, then clamp on the landscape bricks. This will even out the pressure of the squeeze and won't collapse in the middle as I did here. Lesson learned!

I'm not wearing pants.

The lead pour is one of those things every PocketShip builder reads about and isn't sure it can be pulled off.  Experiences range from "worst ever" to "wasn't so bad" to "I smelt for fun". I'm towards the latter end of that. To say I enjoyed it would be a stretch. I think what I enjoyed more was the idea that I sourced these tire weights, sorted them, melted them, skimmed them, and they are now a permanent part of the boat. This means I can finally finish up the centerboard once and for all, and get the keel ready for the crate. I'm just about done with this phase of the build and it feels awesome!

Slow and Steady Wins a Gaff Rigged Pocket Cruiser?

The last few days haven't been terribly exciting on the boatbuilding front. Lots of very incremental advances which don't translate well to photos and blogging. Add that we got another 6 inches of snow last night, and it's been just overall depressing.

This April scene outside...

...translates to this scene inside. I feel you, Dylan!

I was in the shop last night epoxying cleats and I could feel the draft coming through the vent that leads outside. That's where the dryer used to pump its heated air out as exhaust. It's now the tube through which the occasional gerbil finds its way into my house to die a slow, agonizing death behind some cranny somewhere, as well as where I catch the breeze of a 90 degree wind. Good thing I'm using fast hardener because it was chilly down there, around 60 degrees.

While waiting for the cleats to cure, I turned my attention to the living room chair that every now and then turns into a living room throw pillow as the legs give out from underneath. If you're not interested in furniture repair, scroll down to the floor support photo. These chairs were some of the first things we bought with the new house a few years ago at a place called Wickes before they went out of business. Wickes specialized in furniture that looked nice but really wasn't. If I knew then what I knew now, I'd second guess these chairs... but then again, they were cheap, so maybe not.

In the photo below, keen observers will notice that there are box tail joint slots in this corner, but there are no box tail joints. Note: box tail joints work better when it's actually a joint. The problem is without something between the screw and the leg itself (in other words, where the box tail should be) the screw would just keep pulling against the chair leg until it finally ripped free of the connection, sending the sitter to the floor in a heap. No fun.

Box tail slots without the box tail joint = ultimate hecho en china fail.

The corner is rather complicated and I wasn't interested in extending the life of these chairs THAT much, so I simply made a small template from scrap ash, drilled a couple holes, and used that as support for the fasteners. The hole was drilled slightly smaller than the diameter of the screws so there's some grip there, too.

View of the angle. This should extend the life another few months.

Epoxy!! Where'd that come from?

I molded some epoxy into the shattered leg and clamped it shut. It holds pretty well. I should end this little diversion by saying my wife isn't terribly happy with how industrious I've become, as I've now extended the life of these chairs at least twice, reducing her ability to justify going out and buying new chairs. She will win this little engagement eventually, as all wives tend to do.

Back to Pocketship!  Here are the floor supports with their first layer of epoxy on them.

Floor supports 4, 5, and 6 looking fine.

I glued the cleats on earlier, gave them all a quick sanding, and cut their angles. Getting the angles wasn't too tricky but not without some work, either. The cleats are meant to be cut a little long, glued, then fitted to the angles of each floor support. The floor support angles are so extreme they're no good in the miter saw. I wound up taking the miter saw to them anyway to get close, then thought to use a flush trim bit with the router to get flush.

More and more, I don't like flush trimming. In what has become too common, the router's prickly and sensitive nature didn't always cut flush -- the straight edge that the bearing rolls against must be absolutely straight or else it will translate into the working piece. Of course, that happened a couple times so I have some wavy lines on the cleats where they won't fit flush against the bilge panels without heaps of epoxy. I managed to get most of them straightened out but not without more time spent sanding. I gave up on the router and got them close with the miter saw and sanded it down. That was a lot easier and much more accurate.

After trimming, they got a sanding and a quick layer of epoxy. I only did one half; I'll turn it over to do the other half tonight. I find that they dry better that way and it leaves less of a mess. I've cut the cleats for bulkheads 1 and 7 but haven't glued them on yet, as I wanted to get to the rudder first and there's not a lot of room in the shop for these large pieces. I should also point out that, owing to Dave's experience with separation at bulkhead 2, I plan to use ash for the timber vs. pine at bulkhead 2.

Cut, just waiting for the right moment.

With the floor supports curing, I figured I'd make progress on the rudder. It needs fillets, 'glass, and epoxy before it can get its pintles a year from now. I mixed up a batch of wood-flour epoxy for the first time. I like wood flour much better than cell-o-fill as it goes on smoother, causes less mess, and requires less of it to get the right consistency. I used a fat stainless steel tablespoon I got for 25 cents at a thrift shop to set the fillet in place (also my first major fillet).

A fillet to remember.

The plans call for "a monster" fillet here. Since I have no frame of reference as to what constitutes a "monster" I lathered this one thickly and evenly and was sure to get it into every area I could, as much as the frogtape would allow. Turned out pretty nice; we'll see how it acts under duress in the Gulf Stream some day. Really, I don't know if there's much difference in what I'd do here vs. the hull, for example, as anything less than "monster" implies "not monster" and "not monster" implies weak. At least that's the logic I'm going with.

Further, I can totally see where the peanut butter analogy comes into play. It really does look like peanut butter when it's all churned up. Given I ran out of peanut butter a couple nights ago, I'm very, very tempted to risk epoxy'ing my colon shut by adding this to my jelly preserves tonight.

Goes well with strawberry preserves.

A horrible photo of the rudder with fillets curing and the floor supports with cleats. Not visible is the tiller with the first layer of varnish on it.

We're supposed to be in the 60's over the weekend, something we haven't seen in a long time. By the calendar, it's closer to summer solstice than it is to spring equinox and there's snow on the ground. That just ain't right. We also got word that ice out might happen in the first week of May. Ice out, for those who live where there is no ice, is when the authorities allow boats in the water again. Ice out has not been into May for at least 30 years and records indicate it could've been 100 years ago since the last time. Strange things, indeed. Still, the warmer weather means I need to hop to the garage straightening and get that darn lead poured. With any luck, the hull could be together in a couple weeks.

Cheek to Cheek

Today will be mostly pictures as I'm tired. Why? Here's my oven clock:

As in, the morning. That's what happens when you decide to "sand a little bit" at 12:30am. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

A couple days ago, I glued up the two rudder cheeks on one side of the rudder and set up the clamps. The next day, I glued up the other side. A 1/4" strip of scrap sat the rudder up so it would cure evenly. That's pretty much how it sat until tonight. With a relatively busy weekend, this was the first time I was able to get back into the shop. One of the events was the spring gathering of the Minnesota Sailing Alliance, a loose knit group of sailors, skippers, and captains who meet about once a week and sail. It was nice to see some folks I hadn't seen since the sailing season ended so very long ago.

At the event, while I was deep into my tall mug of Summit, one guy came rushing over to shake my hand and ask if I was the "boat builder". I said, sure, I'm building a boat. Turns out he says he's got a 30' sailboat 3/4 done in Michigan - a 3-masted schooner that he plans to show to corporations who then will give him $7 million to build a 140' tall ship. When I suggested that a 140' sailboat will require masts maybe, I don't know, 100' tall, he just shrugged and asked if I'd help him build it. I don't doubt people's skills, but I'm fairly skeptical by nature. That said, I didn't crush his dream - who am I to do that? - so I just said when he got the contract, give me a call. I'll be waiting! I should add that the 30' boat he's working on is "from pictures he took of another boat".

Cheeks clamped.

Back to reality -- sanding soon morphed into chamfering. I did the 45' chamfer on the rudder cheeks after the glue up cured. The manual makes this look easy. Zip, done! Not exactly. Most chamfering bits have a bearing on the bottom so that it can run along an even surface and carve out the pattern. No real issues there (though even the slightest wave in the cuts will cause waves in the chamfering pattern.)

Added 45' chamfer to the cheeks. Mostly came out OK. This view of the tiller slot made me go back and sand it some more.

The problem arises where the rudder cheek meets the main part of the rudder. The bearing in this area cannot simply glide but in fact will gouge a trench exactly where you don't want it to. I adjusted the router to cut a little higher, just off the surface of the main rudder body so that the bearing rode against the cheek, and then hand sanded to match the profile of the rest of the cheeks. This took awhile to get right, especially as I plan to keep the rudder cheeks bright and couldn't really see an easy way to do this without risking damage to a highly visible and important part of the boat. I'm wondering if other people had this issue, as I don't remember anything complicated in any blog on this topic? It could be because it would've been much easier to do the chamfering before the glue up. Simply choose the 2 top cheeks on either side, chamfer, and done.

Re-application of epoxy to fill voids and tear out. This, to date, is the saddest moment of the build so far.

The sanding and chamfering, too, exposed some voids in the glue up and areas where I had some tear out. That meant mixing up a little thickened epoxy for some fairing. That was more painful to do than I expected - actually putting epoxy back onto a clean area that I spent the better part of an hour sanding. If there was any good news on that, I was able to collect a little more epoxy for the rabbet trench in the centerboard. This little trench - about 3/8" wide and 1/4" inch - runs halfway around the centerboard. By volume, it's roughly between Lake Superior and the Gulf of Mexico. It takes a LOT of epoxy to fill as I've been at it for about week, moving extra epoxy into this canyon in a never-ending effort to fill the void. I'm sure there's a keen metaphor there; I'm already having bad dreams about dumping epoxy into a bottomless well.

The rabbet trench gets thickened epoxy. The trench has much more volume than expected. It gobbles up epoxy like crazy.

While I had some epoxy to play with, I put a layer of epoxy down on the rudder wing/step. I didn't see this called out in the manual. I guess that's because it will get the full fiberglass treatment. But I don't see anything wrong with putting a layer down for a little strength as this will be a highly stressed component.

The rudder step gets a coat of epoxy.

It was also a good opportunity to check the tapers in the blocking. They came out nice - the rudder has an obvious taper and should work as expected in the water with minimal drag. The extra work to get this right was worth it. I was happy to see no voids and clean lines.

Rudder bottom with taper from leading to trailing edge (right to left).

Taper along the top. Trailing edge here, just below where the back of the tiller exits the tiller slot.

Meanwhile, the keel sits in the living room waiting for a nice day for a lead pour. Given it's snowing as I type this, that might not be for awhile, though a FB friend recently announced it'll be 74 degrees next week. I didn't realize she was a part-time meteorologist but I'm hopeful. She's at least a bit smarter than that damn groundhog.

The keel assembly sits waiting for a nice day. Fiberglass box, too.

Sometimes You Just Gotta Jump

I visited Chris yesterday and spent some time with his boat, Chucky B. I like that boat: fair lines, practical, and sound. It's already been through the wringer (this is the boat that tipped off its trailer during a tight turn). It's all patched up and got a facelift in the cabin. My wife came along and saw PocketShip for the first time. She's a picky one but gave the boat an enthusiastic thumbs up. Good thing, because I still have all that plywood in the garage and would need to find a new home for it if she made me choose between living with the boat or with her.

I brought my tiller and wanted to see if it would fit. It didn't, but I didn't expect it to because I left the end slightly thicker than the required 3/4". I'll have to take it down a bit and maybe even keep it a bit loose to compensate for the epoxy/varnish and natural expansion. I was also curious about how the full length tiller would work in the cockpit. Unfortunately, the tiller at full length would definitely interfere with crew movements during tacking, or even simple steering. I'm almost certainly going to take it down 8".

I also got a primer on a tiller extension. Apparently, it's not to steer from the bowsprit, but to steer while heeling. You know, when you're hanging off the side hoping that the head you have stored below has a good latch on it.

This guy could use a tiller extension.

But now I'm not sure the laminated stick, leftover from the original tiller cut, is going to work as an extension, as it needs to be a bit telescopic. Just another in a long series of decisions I still need to make.

As mentioned above, I haven't epoxy'd my tiller because I want to get the rudder done first. Make the tiller fit the rudder, is the idea. That's what I worked on today. The rudder blocking proved simple to cut but difficult to feather. There's a taper that goes to 1/4" on the trailing edge from a full 3/4". The curved part had to be laminated from 3 bits of scrap (I wasn't going to cut a full board of Menard's finest select pine) and then sanded down. All this sounds easy but is really tricky (I think) to pull off well.

6 bits of pine = one pine in the ass!!

First, the manual is unclear. It speaks to tapering and provides some photos but because they're b&w without depth, it's not easy to tell what's going on. If you look carefully at one of the photos, you can see Geoff marked a taper on the curved blocking. The plans kinda make it a little more clear. But the photo that got me on my way is the one from Jon's rudder blocking where you can see the taper on both ends. Still, I spent the better part of an hour aligning the blocking just so and marking the tapers.

For example, the trailing edge of the 'triangle' finishes to 1/4" where it's straight. It tapers down from the full 3/4" at the top of the curve. It also tapers from 3/4" from where it's against the 5" blocking. And then, it meets up with the long trailing edge blocking which starts at 3/8" and finishes at 1/4". After all this math, finally, I just had to jump. I fired up the random orbital with 60 grit and let it fly. Lots of sanding then checking then sanding again. Once satisfied, I dry fit for the glue up, then epoxy'd the inside faces, switched to thickened stuff, and laid the blocking down for good.

Blocking fit well. Finally.

Wife and I signed our names in here.

I knew I'd need a good bit of thickened epoxy for this. It was a furious 20 minutes as the first layer just began to thicken up before I was ready to enclose the box. It took some readjustments to get everything to sit well. In hindsight, it was OK that the epoxy hardened a bit because it kept things from moving around much. In the manual, you can see where the trailing edge is actually wired to prevent slippage. I didn't have that problem.

The whole rudder structure got clamped together for about 30 minutes before getting a good wipe down to clear the squeeze out, especially in the tiller slot. Using a technique I picked up from gluing the centerboard trunk, two clamps get removed, the area gets wiped, the clamps get replaced, and the next two clamps get the same treatment. Keen readers will also see that I left the blocking a little proud - maybe 1/16 an inch. This is to be sure there's firm glue contact while making it much easier to sand later. I'd rather sand down 1/16 of blocking, for example, than 1/16 of plywood to get a smooth finish. One thing I didn't do which I should have was put a weight in the middle where the blocking cuts across the entire span.

One can't have too many clamps.

Not all good news today. I cut the rabbet for the centerboard's epoxy deposit, basically breaking every table saw rule while removing every safety feature in order to do it. Somewhere up there, my shop teacher is cringing. I remember reading where someone cut the rabbet before glue up with a router. I forgot about that until I was holding onto the centerboard for dear life. And then of course, I didn't hold it completely against the fence so I cut through to the outside like a canal. Not that big a deal in the scheme of things, especially when compared to putting your foot through the hull, having your boat fall of the trailer, or taking out half the companionway due to a router mishap. The centerboard will be tapered and the epoxy will actually be exposed around the leading and trailing edges so this is (somewhat) easily fixed.

Down the rabbet hole.

I switched tactics and simply lowered the centerboard onto the blade while maintaining a good grip instead of trying to run the centerboard along the fence. Lower, cut, move, lower, cut, move. Much safer and easier. Still, I don't want to subject my limbs to that fear again. I then carved out the rabbet with a small chisel. Messy work, heart-racing work, but it's done. Next time I'll try a slotting bit on the router.

All dressed up and nowhere to go.

Even with the issues, it's nice to make progress. I have a finished boom gallows (which now sits on my fireplace mantle), a nearly finished tiller, a keel waiting for nice weather for a lead pour, a rudder that will be done by the weekend, and a centerboard structure which I'm hoping is not completely ruined. A business trip was cancelled next week so I'll have a few unexpected nights to continue working. I'm thinking bowsprit and/or the companionway hatch next? Or the floorboards.. yea that's the stuff.

Tiller Carving

I bought a Craftsman 10" band saw last year on the recommendation of many posts. Given it was on sale for under $100 at Sears and the fact I really wanted one (but not for $300) I pulled the trigger on it. But all the reviews said to upgrade the blade. So the first thing I did was order a couple new Timber Wolf blades, which of course sat in the box they came in for the last few months while I used the OEM blade on the boom gallows, among other projects. Suffice to say, the OEM blade cuts about as well as a hammer through butter. But the new blade works great. I tested it on a few scraps and was able to pull off these cool patterns.

When tools work right, you can do this with them. The lamination is for a tiller extension.

Satisfied, I then tested it on the tiller blank, on an area that if I totally screwed up, it wouldn't matter much. That passed, too. So then I started cutting a bit wide of the pattern I traced, and it held true. I got closer and closer until finally I was cutting like a band saw  should cut. Just south of the line, maybe a blade width's off. This is one of my favorite power tools so it's nice to finally have a legitimate band saw again. It will come in handy when I do some of the more intricate blocking, like on the rudder. Thumbs up for the Craftsman but get a real blade. The Timber Wolf 3/8" is the way to go. I finished up with a 1/4" roundover, then sanded up to 120 with the orbital then freehanded with sandpaper. I sanded the length of the tiller for far too long. I'm reminded of the immortal words of my Boy Scout Scoutmaster: If you shake it more than three times, you're playing with it!

The nose knows. It took some work to get this to balance visually.

I decided not to apply a veneer to the bottom length as the alternating white-orange of the ash-padauk looks terrific underneath. I left a little bit of the ash in front like a fingernail. I find more and more though that the padauk has a finicky grain. Some strips are solid, some are more open. The open grain shows up as little rough patches, maybe an inch or two long. They epoxy/varnish as darker areas compared to the rest of piece and are difficult, if not impossible, to sand to marble. It also means I have to try to cut and trim in ways I wouldn't normally in order to get the most out of the grain presentation. Not terrible, just different, and I've decided I like it as part of the "character" of the wood. It's tough, though, because the perfectionist in me wants to bust out another 10' board and mill it down just for a one inch strip. No, can't do that. I'll stick with the character.

Speaking of which, a note about ash. I chose ash for its strength and for its grain. When epoxy'd and varnished, the grain lifts out like caramel on vanilla ice cream. It's subtle, like maple or basswood, but obvious, unlike maple or basswood, especially the end and side grain. Nothing wrong with maple or basswood, just different. Ash is a really pretty wood that deserves center stage. Hopefully the tiller and boom gallows do the ash gods justice.

Money shot: Cut, sanded, and ready for epoxy.

One thing to note on the tiller is I kept it the full length rather than trimming it down 6" - 8" as many others have done. I haven't sailed PocketShip yet, so I'm not sure how long I want my tiller to be. Taller fellas (not me) can get away with a shorter tiller. I have enough laminated scrap to make an extension but the tiller length is already almost halfway through the cockpit so unless I want to steer from the bowsprit, I'm not sure I even need an extension. That said, it's much easier to cut wood than to grow it. If I need to lop off half a foot, I can do so easily. If all goes well, I'll get to sail PocketShip, hopefully at the helm, at Okoumefest in a few weeks. That will be the highlight of a pretty good sailing year so far.

Padook, Padawk, Whatever

When I was sourcing wood for the cabin sole, I went through a very involved process involving spreadsheets, calipers, forecasting tools, and leprechauns. In the end, I wound up with padauk. But when I called Hardware Supply for the wood, I pronounced it "pad-owk". The guy on the other end said what? I said, pad-owk, it's a reddish hardwood? He goes, you mean padook? I said, yeah, sure padook. Now, maybe that doesn't matter, and they've made songs about different pronunciations of the same thing, though I find it highly pretentious and silly to say "to-mah-to" vs. "to-may-to". The padauk was one the best choices I made but is a bit of a fussy, messy wood.

Elephants add to the aura.

It's oil-based for one. Before glue up, it has to have a very light rub with acetone to remove the excretions after milling. The rags come out looking like they were dipped in spaghetti sauce. Much like teak, the color fades over time, especially with exposure to sunlight. But whereas teak turns grey, padauk becomes a chocolate brown. Milling itself is not a problem but it's definitely a hardwood. There's an obvious difference in running a length of padauk through the table saw vs. ash, for example. And then there's the dust. It's a fine, red dust that coats about everything. Collect enough and I'm sure it can work as a dye. It smells good to me but wearing a respirator is essential, and is good practice, anyway. I've worked with ash, maple, and walnut and they are all easier to work with than padauk, but the results are worth the effort.

At one time, padauk was the wood choice of kings. Now, it's the wood choice of wanna-be boatbuilders but still serves the same purpose. It looks crazy beautiful when varnished, with a reddish glow that is sexy and smooth all at the same time. I don't need to hang velvet in the cabin because I have my padauk. I don't recommend it for anything more than trim or floors as the strong color can detract from other highlights. The same principle applies to bathrooms done entirely in pink. Pink is not a command color but a highlight. Same with padauk.

Don't do this.

Structurally, the glue ups seem strong, but there are small voids here and there, especially on the ends. I don't think that's the wood but the way I'm milling in that the last inch or so through the table saw is tricky and I'm losing contact with the fence. While strong, I wouldn't recommend it for anything structural, though that's true of most any hardwood. The masts cannot be hardwood because it needs to be a little pliant as the wind takes the sails and bends it to and fro. A hardwood would simply snap and that's no good. I thought about doing a lamination for the boom and bowsprit, but for the structural reasons and for overkill, decided against it.

I took a break from epoxy over the last couple days, which were mostly spent back on the bagpipes as I had a concert to play last night. For many reasons, I hadn't picked up the pipes since St. Paddy's Day and to say I was rusty would be just plain understated. I was surprised, though, that the practice chanter flowed as usual. Muscle memory is an amazing thing, that after not thinking about something for awhile, it all came back without much of a hitch at all. Some of these tunes are so internalized I'll be on my deathbed running fingerwork on my IV tubes. The concert was fun and the band headed over to O'Gara's afterwards. The sight of 20 kilted folks walking into the bar turned heads, but we're pretty used to the attention by now.

The band at the concert hall.

In the green room watching.

On the boat front, I found the culprit for the crooked keel. There was a separation of about 1/8" of an inch between the aft and bow keel panels caused by too much blocking. It's not serious, but it's there. After writing my trusty comrade in arms about the best way to go about fixing this, I lathered up some thickened epoxy into the joint and waited for it to dry. I'll sand this down later today. I also applied some epoxy to the voids on the underside of the keel.

Joint separation.

Joint preparation.

Joint saturation.

I then turned my attention to the tiller. As mentioned earlier, I've always wanted a laminated tiller. After the fun (not sarcastic) of the boom gallows, I was looking forward to this even more. After milling the padauk and ash, I made a pattern block out of a leftover floor board from renovating the house next door. (I don't really throw a lot away.)

Milled padauk and ash to spec. 3/8" by 1" strips.

This pattern wasn't nearly as strong as the 8/4 lumber I used for the boom gallows but I couldn't justify getting timber just for a pattern and I had nothing thicker. It later proved a little tricky to secure the strips to the 3/4" bottom of the pattern, especially at the point, but it worked out OK in the end. The severe bend at one end of the tiller was fussy but eventually succumbed to the strength of the Irwin. Still, I was surprised I was able to pull it down enough to keep a fair curve.

Glue up with manageable squeeze out.

The pattern, lamination, and pattern block. Pretty good fit.

I also made a real effort to scrape off the squeeze out before it fully cured. When it was still in putty form, I took a straight edge from scrap wood and ran it along the side. Then I took a screwdriver along each of the strips on both sides and chiseled out more epoxy. This created bits that reminded me of popcorn. They wouldn't taste very good, even with butter. Who am I kidding? They're delicious! Avatar, anyone?

Epoxy popcorn. Yum!

I need to do better at figuring the amounts needed for this as I feel like I'm wasting perfectly good epoxy. In the scheme of things, it's probably a pump at most, maybe two, but the sign of a good builder is not only what materials are used, but how well they are used. It went better than the gallows, which had enormous amounts of squeeze out. Still, the learning curve continues.

It's my wife's 29th :) birthday today so not much boatbuilding. As before, the tiller will be sanded aggressively to remove the epoxy, then planed and cut to spec. I'm hopeful I can salvage enough to make a tiller extension from this. The area under the curve may prove just long enough to do that. I'd also like to get the keel out of the shop so I can work on the rudder next. At this point, it's just waiting for good weather for the pour, which means somewhere around August.