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

Sunday, October 26, 2014

A Flippin' Boat Party

One of the great milestones in the building of PocketShip is the flip. This is when the topsides and the cockpit are essentially finished so that the lower half of the boat, including the hull and keel, can be accessed by flipping the boat on its head.  Many other blogs have detailed the actual event, but not many have discussed the process to actually get to that point.  I've made other progress since and before (finished the rub rails, bought a trailer, cut the mast) but figured the flip was monumental enough to deserve its own space here.

My friends are a bit flaky, and those who aren't, are always busy. Those who are both flaky and busy are some of the more interesting people I know, and indeed some of my best friends, but man is it hard to get a few flaky, busy people together on a single Sunday afternoon, including myself. 

After multiple aborted dates, the crew finally got together to help with the flip.  And what a crowd it was.  They were computer engineers, technical writers, law students, marketers, railroad welders, and good friends, one and all.  They showed in spite of the fact that 7 out of 8 of us spent yesterday evening celebrating our buddy's wedding reception.

One showed up with massive furniture straps.  Others showed up with pulled pork, chicken wings, and booze.  All showed up with a good attitude.  And I have to reserve a special call out to the groom whose reception the night before ended at 3am.  He then woke up at 7 to help clear the reception room, tossed a few cookies over the course of the day, and showed up just as the boat got back in the garage to much applause.  I had to wait about 14 days for this evening, but what an evening it was.  Missing were Chris & Sean, they of the other Minnesota PocketShips.  Chris actually stopped by last Saturday but it was just the two of us and that just wouldn't do.  Sean was traveling and couldn't make it, either.  Hopefully they can make it to the reflip!

Testing the furniture straps.  These were affectionately renamed the strap ons.
There isn't a lot to add to the literature already out there on the flip.  It took a lot longer to clear and secure the garage than I expected.  Nearly two years of accumulated crap were gathered up and tossed.  I also almost forgot to remove the lift outs from the sole.  That would've been bad.  One of the downsides of the now upside down boat is that I can't store the power tools in the cockpit anymore.  I'll need to find an actual place for them.

Calculating the sizes. The garage hasn't looked like this in almost two years.

G and M help fit the bow.  Four others guide from behind.
A big help were the furniture dollies.  Since my garage was deemed too small to do a flip in place, we lifted the boat and settled it onto the dollies.  The whole thing got wheeled out along the concrete, then lifted onto the tarp on the lawn.  We then rolled it over the tarp, taking care to align the tires just so.  I broke apart the boat cradle as needed and will probably just stick with the tires from here on out. 

Guiding it forward over the pallet cardboard.
Wheeled and carried over to a tarp on the grass.
 
Discussing the engineering.  The lines are feathered fiberglass pieces, the weaves not quite filled.

Nearly on its head at this point, settled on tires.  This also served as a test for the garage fitting.
The only part most folks were worried about was the top part of the cabin, the two corners of the aft cabin wall and the cabin decking.  We put the tires behind these, not on them, and that worked well.  The team felt confident enough to carry the boat upside down and backwards and that confidence was rewarded with an efficient replacement.  Some members had to grip the boat by the rub rails.  I prayed they'd hold, but knew that if the snapped, I'd just make them anew.  I left the power screws in there, visible as the gold screw heads.  They are the 1/4" x 2 1/2" screws with T-30 tops.  It was the only way I could get enough leverage to make that final bend, despite heating the wood.

The team agrees the tires will be fine.

Hauling it back into the garage.  My wife, who took these photos, was needed to put the tires in place.

The crew settles in for the requisite beer shot. I'm sitting on the furniture straps.
I was pleased to see that the wreckage of the hull was not as severe as I expected, though still quite a mess.  I joined the hull panels quite awhile ago; the same joints would be much better now.   Epoxy drips from the keelson and other areas poke out here and there.  The transom area is in good shape.  This won't be too bad!   It will take some work and quite a bit of epoxy to address these issues but they're imminently fixable.  And the boat looked terrific out on the lawn, amazingly so.  I'd never seen my boat out of the garage before, in full view.  It was so nice to be able to walk around the living, breathing, 3-dimensional object and take a few steps back and admire the lines once more. I answered a lot of questions about the boat and one of the fellas said he would look into the kit.  I'll take my CLC commission in epoxy, please.

We ended the evening with good beer, some baseball, the Packers, and plans for next time.  I am deeply thankful to the crew, those who were able to join and also those who were here in spirit.

Oh my.. there's a lot of work yet to do.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Halfway through the Rail - Rub Rail Redux

Back from St. Croix, I don't think I can ever tire of boat pictures.

The marina at Christiansted.  This was the view from our hotel room.

View from Rum Runners, a famous bar/restaurant on the boardwalk.

No boats in sight still very nice.  Rainbow Beach on the west side of the island.

After allowing myself some time for reminiscing, I started work on the rub rail.  Another builder noted that it took him about a week to get all of the laminations down.  I agree with that.  One side has to go on after some bending, then the other, then the laminations.  Add curing time, sanding, prep, cursing, rearranging, and final prep, it's easily been four days for me as of today.

I first pulled all of the old screws out and redrilled a couple new ones into the lower breasthook where I embedded three stainless steel screws.  This is to give a little extra holding power near the bow in addition to the glue (thanks, Chris, for the suggestion).  I'll add similar embedded screws on each of the other laminations.  Unfortunately, all this screwing around I'm sure has affected the integrity of the rail, so it's a good thing the rub rails aren't exactly structural.  Nevertheless, I filled in each of these holes with epoxy and prepared for the second layer.  The second layer is ash, which will of course be followed by padauk.

Here a hole, there a hole, everywhere a hole, hole...
Unlike the first layer, the second layer screwed and glued pretty easily with only my body weight forcing the curve instead of my body weight plus hot water plus voodoo magick.  I didn't have to wet this area down nor form it in any way.  Like the first layer, I drilled and screwed in the first three screws without glue then added glue to the rest of the length of the strip.  I then went down the line drilling and screwing the layer in permanently until I reached the stern.

At that point, I unscrewed the first three screws at the bow, plus one other, and added glue to this section.  Once the glue was applied, I leaned in and rescrewed all of them back into the first layer.  Whew!  Since my ash strip is about 20 feet long (I started with a 10 foot board and scarfed them together, not bothering to cut to spec just yet) there was plenty of leverage available to use, which I cut away once done. 

Aft part done.  Unscrewed forward to secure this permanently.  You can see the three countersunk screws in the first layer here.
Lamination done.  I'm thinking the epoxy clean up here is going to be awful.  All those folks who volunteered to help -- yes.


View from above.  I think it looks pretty good.

I think the padauk-ash-padauk lamination will look good, but I worry about carrying a theme too far.  I remind myself that part of the reason for this is because I couldn't bring myself to buy another board of padauk.  Still, there's something to be said for committing to a design.

Test fit of the last layer.
Another view of the test fit.  I was testing the curve here.  It'll be OK.
I'm hoping this cures well enough to do the final layer on the port side tomorrow morning.  I decided to do it this way as I can more easily fit the bow area with the three layers down instead of trying to meet them up one layer at a time.  In the meantime, I'm on the hunt for tires I can use for the flip.  Yes, it's a neverending thing.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Counting Chickens - The Other Rub Rail

I spent the better part of my free time today working on the port rub rail, but that wasn't what I'd planned to do when I first opened the garage door today.  I thought I'd add the second laminate to the first on the starboard side to see what the ash looked like and therefore determine if I wanted to keep it or go all padauk.

Prepped the ash strip but wound up putting it back whence it came.
After curing almost 20 hours, I began pulling the screws out, making my way aft.  I got a few off when I heard a sickening "shlurpy" sound, something akin to a slug scratching along sandpaper.  Sure enough, the rail that up until that point was held in place by the big brass screw pulled away from the hull.  I rushed to mix up some thickened epoxy and screwed the rail back against the bow.  Alas, somewhere in Lake Superior some fine summer day from now someone will find a set of padauk-ash-padauk rub rails, expertly carved, inexpertly glued, floating amidst the dreck of the sea.  That would be my rub rail.

It got cool here over the last couple days, and the outside temperature dipped into the high 30's overnight.  I didn't have my garage heater on so I'm sure it didn't get above 50 in there.  Cold weather of course means longer cure times, something I forgot given how warm it's been (for us) over the last couple days.  Still, there was work to be done, and I wasn't going to let a little thing like glorified glue hold up today's progress.

Like the other day, I converted my Ottoman and living room into a hot water wood bending station.  It went much faster and better this time, and in fact almost too good as I put a sharper curve into the rail than I intended.  It wasn't until later that I understood what this meant and the ramifications for today's build.

Boiling water and padauk is a great way to dye clothes pink.

With a bit of a learning curve behind me, I found that the best way to apply the glue was to pre-drill and pre-screw the first couple at the bow.  These would go all the way into the hull and then back out again.  It took a little bit of fussing as the curve I put into this piece was more severe than I wanted so that it actually bowed quite a bit away from the boat; it wouldn't lie flush.  The only way it would work without going back into the living room to reduce the bend would be to extend the rail out until it fit.  Luckily, I scarfed up the rail longer than needed just for such an occasion.  This is something I recommend for all builders -- don't build a 15' scarf for a 15' boat.  Add a few feet for any number of good reasons, chief among them is leverage in pushing this to fit.

First screw goes on. You can see this was my third attempt.
I then removed the rail from the hull and with these three or so screws still in, I applied thickened epoxy to the entire length, taking care not to hit the hull with the rail as I maneuvered it into place.  In doing so, some of the mid-section areas weren't quite gripping the plywood as well as the starboard side did.  It was then that I realized there's a length of about 4 feet from the forward cabin locker to the aft cabin wall that I have access to the rail from inside the cabin.  Meaning, I could screw into the rail, using the wall as leverage.  It also happens that this is pretty much where the most severe arc of the railing is.  That worked well and wish I realized that when I was doing the starboard side.

Scrap pieces hold the screws in place from inside the cabin through the rail.  This successfully pulled the rail flush to the hull.
When I got to the transom, I spent a long time looking at the boat from the front.  I couldn't tell if it was an optical illusion due to a little bit of a listing or the uneven 'glassing at the bow, but it seemed like the rail was slightly lower on the "right" side.  When I pulled out the ruler, sure enough, it was 1/4" inch lower all around.  So, out came the screws!

This photo bugged me so much I wound up pulling 2/3 of the screws out and moving the rail up 1/4".
It was dark outside by the time I finished re-screwing the rails and cleaning up the handiwork, but the first two layers are done.  I'm not sure if it 's better to do both port and starboard first then work outward, but I guess I won't know.  In the end, I'm satisfied with the effort.  The two rails meet nicely at the bow and taper back.  They both end just where the topside meets the hull, at that little corner.  I think the port side is still a little bit (by like 1/8 inch) lower than starboard but there's not a lot I can do about it now.  At a glance, it looks more than fine, and with spit and polish, it won't be noticeable to anyone but me.  And if someone points it out, it won't be just my rails floating in Lake Superior.

Meeting at the bow.
When I put the ash rail back into the garage, I grabbed a sheet of foam I plan to use for my cushions.  It's quite nice how well this fits with just a bit of trim.  The left side, if flush against the curve of the seatback, comes right to the edge of the footwell.  In other words, perfect.  I'll need three here, as expected, and it will be a fun and interesting project.  There just so happens to be a lot between now and then.

Test fit of the cushion foam.  This is a long way off!
I'm off to St. Croix for a few days for a friend's wedding.  Hopefully that's enough time for this to cure.  High on the list is to finish the rub rail lamination; the anchor well (all areas forward), including the bowspirt cut out; and the portlight cut outs.  I probably won't cut the laz hatches or the hawse pipe holes until the re-flip.  But it's real close.

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Rounding the Curve - Rub Rail Installation

When I first read the manual and the blogs, long before I ordered my kit, I noted how everyone had difficulty with the bow area and the rub rails.  In the end, I didn't think the bow area was that bad as I used some fancy physics with a number of clamps.  But the rub rails have earned every bit of aggravation.

I'm using padauk for my rub rails, a very nice hardwood.  Trouble is, like most hardwoods, it isn't very pliable.  It doesn't bend much and when it does bend, it likes to snap back into place.  So when I tried dry fitting the rub rails on the other night, it would literally tear the screws out from the plywood and spring back into nice, sturdy, straight lumber.  That's what a tree does, so I can't get that mad at it.  Frustration set in; onto the forums I went, and off to Oktoberfest, too.  What better way to get your mind off boatbuilding issues than fresh pints of haus brau.

Cask Schwandtoberfest!
Alas, my Oktoberfest stupor could only keep me diverted for so long.  Back to the forums I went, and coincidentally, it turns out there are a few builders working on these same pages from the manual right now, and all of us were struggling in one way or another.  Most were having issues with their wood splitting.  Indeed, this was the most common problem.  This wasn't happening to me, and in fact splitting would be preferable as it would basically be like kerfing and I could easily and happily sand over the splits.  Alas, my splits were happening to the plywood of my hull where I've spent the better part of 18 months systematically assembling.

I wanted to try to do this without heating the wood as space is at a premium and there's nowhere I could easily leave 18 feet of lumber for a few hours in a safe place.  Nowhere, that is, except my living room floor.  Once again, I converted my Ottoman into a workbench and broke out the cookie sheets.  I first  heated the wood with a heat gun, keeping a knee on the lumber.  This worked well and I got about 6 inches or so of a permanent bend out of it after 20 minutes.  There are many websites that discuss this process, some in great detail, and I was diverted for awhile reading about it.  I wanted to see how far I could get without water, but figured, to really make it work, I'd have to take the plunge (ahem).

I dumped out the spaghetti pot, refilled it with water, and brought it to a boil.  I then brought the boiling pot of water over to the living room, soaked a rag in it, and wrapped the padauk in the rag.  When it cooled after a few minutes, I hit it for about 10 minutes with a heat gun then wrapped it once again in boiling water.  All the while, I weighed down the lumber with a 10 lb weight hanging from a screw I put in, as well as my bucket of lead weights that I'm melting for ballast some time in the next few weeks.  I let this sit for a few hours, came back, and had about 12" of permanent bend.  I'd hoped this was enough as without reconfiguring my entire living room, I wouldn't be able to bend it anymore.

Tiger inspecting the workshop.

Yes, that's a bend you see.

Lots of errands later (including hauling out my MacGregor as the mooring balls will be removed next week -- sigh) I figured it was time to try to assemble the rub rails once again.   With the advice of craig from the forums, I got myself a set of 1/4 x 3" deck screws with nice, thick teeth.  I drilled a pilot hole into the lower breasthook and then screwed the rub rail in.  To my relief and amazement, it held!  I was able to take the rub rail all the way to the transom, applying ample force simulating the actual construction.
 
Holding firm - a big screw holds this in place, drilled through the lower breasthook.

The magical screws.
I was only going to epoxy down the first 1/3 but I was worried I wouldn't be able to move it if I made a mistake, so down to the basement I went to mix up enough thickened epoxy to finish the job.  With the big screw holding, I moved aft, applying epoxy all along the length.  I then drilled pilot holes every foot or so and screwed 1 1/2" deck screws to hold the rail in place.  Soon I was at the transom.  Here, the top of the rub rail sits right at the corner of the topsides and the hull.  It looks super sharp.  I then took out the big screw at the bow slowly and epoxy'd up that area, then rescrewed it in.  I then stood back to admire my work.  Only thing was, it was too high at the bow and would've interfered with the bowsprit.  Wow, that would've been bad.

View at the bow, from the top.  This will be one of the first things anyone will see as I pull into dock.
First layer.  It really adds an elegance to the boat.
Quickly, I pulled out the big screw and the two screws aft of it, pushed the rub rail down below the lower breast hook, drilled three more holes, and stood back and prayed it would hold.  It did.  First row: done!  I spent awhile cleaning up the squeeze out and applying more epoxy where needed, but overall, I'm pleased with how it came out.  Later tonight, I'll cut off most of the forward excess so I can get the garage door closed.  I am told the other layers go on easier, if anything because the screws will actually have something to grip.  And of course I still have to do the port side, which I haven't bent yet.  But it's nice to know it's possible.

Final placement, just at the lower breasthook so as to avoid any bowsprit issues.
Incidentally, the 'gold cap' of the screw looks pretty cool, like the rub rail's bedazzled.  I'm thinking about it, because the boat doesn't have enough bling as it is.

Friday, October 3, 2014

Cockpit and Topsides Fiberglass Fun

The difference between a job and a hobby is when you can quit.  If I were being paid to build PocketShip, with expectations of certain levels of progress, I probably would've been fired a long time ago.  Tonight is a good example.  After 'glassing most of the cockpit and topsides, I'd had enough and stopped to do something else.  I could've added the second epoxy application, 'glassed the transom, and (sigh) sanded some more.  All of those things will certainly be done, but I'd had enough.  In fact, I'm actually slightly ahead of schedule for once.

I began today by removing the green tape and sanding down the edges.  As noted in the last post, I'm happy with my technique and no longer worry about mucking up the 'glassing.   The final piece of this learning curve actually happened during the centerboard 'glassing exercise, when I used several pieces to cover the curves instead of one big sheet.

Peeling away the tape and breaking the 'glass along the edge.  This gets sanded down and the next layer gets applied on top of it, a couple inches overlapping.  Note the dark spot in the photo above and below.

The new edge gets feathered in..

And then disappears.  Epoxy makes everything better.
This photo is the footwell. The top part overlaps about 2 inches and is virtually seamless.

Another example of the tape technique at work.

But I can't just rest on my laurels. There's more 'glassing to do!  So I laid out the 'glass on the family room floor and cut them to spec for four of the remaining parts: both forward side panels and the seatbacks roughly amidships.

Layout of the 'glass to be installed.

Draping the final pieces over the seat backs.
Once those got wet down, I cut the piece that sits in front of the companionway. This is a high traffic, high stress, high visibility area so had to be good.  Or, I'll just get some cushions.

Finalizing the welcome mat. Note the two freshly 'glassed side areas.

And then once that got put down, I finished up the night with the forward side panels.  The 'glass didn't cross the bow.  I'll be adding a few layers there, anyway, so wasn't concerned about that.  I had to open the garage door here to finish up, standing outside in a light drizzle.

Forward topside panel.  I have a hawse pipe I plan to install here.
So there you have it -- the external topsides 'glasswork done except for the transom.  I plan to install the rub rails tomorrow (Friday) and have that cure an extra long time.  There's a big Oktoberfesty kinda thing Saturday with my wife as the designated driver, so there won't be any building Saturday (and with any luck, Sunday either).  It's a hobby, right....

Monday, September 29, 2014

That's a Whole Lotta 'Glass - Cockpit Fiberglass

The last few days were industrious, to the say the least. On the sailing front, I got out on the water three days in a row, all with good boats and great people.  Alas, I have but one picture to share as I left my phone in the car twice and ran out of batteries the third time.  On Thursday, I tooled around on a 30 year old M class racer on White Bear Lake. My host, Bob, knows a ton about sailboats and is very (very) picky about whom he sails with. This is partly because one wrong move in the right conditions and we're swimming, and partly because Bob's a talkative fella and expects talking in return. I'm glad to oblige.

Friday, I got out with Sailor Beth on Lake Pepin.  What a spectacular fall day that was.  Her 30' sloop cut through the water like a champ; the fall colors along the Wisconsin and Minnesota bluffs were truly stunning.  You don't hear much about Chrysler TMI's, but you should.  They are fine vessels.

But my favorite sail of the weekend was with none other than Garage Sail, by way of California Sean. Sean moved here to follow his work and took PocketShip (and his wife) with him, with a little nudging from the two other builders here in the area.  We wound up on Lake Independence, an 844 acre lake about 30 minutes NW of the Twin Cities.  This was a much nicer lake than I expected, and Garage Sail took advantage of the open waters.  With the mainsail only, she tooled along at 3 knots in light winds and kicked up a little past four with a gentle, steady breeze.  I was a kid in a candy store peering under the floorboards and into the electronics.

As we were waiting on the dock for the truck, many folks stopped to appreciate PocketShip bobbing freely in the water as I held the line. Kudos to JCH at CLC for designing a classic, and to Sean for putting it all together in amazing fashion.

Lake Independence - picture perfect cruising grounds..
I knew, however, that I would pay for these exploits with housework, which includes my own shipbuilding exercise.  I've been working diligently, short of continuously, preparing for the flip.  My wife plans to host a party this weekend and now I have a deadline to meet.

I spent a full day preparing all of the fiberglass areas. This included a lot of filling, fairing, sanding, and "just so-ing".  To get in and around the boat, I worked with the garage door mostly open. Here's a shot of how close the bow is to the garage door.  There's about 2 feet behind the boat where I can skirt behind and get in.  For those of you working in big, heated barns, seriously...


Missed it by that much.
Finally satisfied, I laid out the green tape and started on the port seating area.  One thing I wanted to do, though, was ensure good overlap in stressed areas, as well as being economical with the fiberglass. I think I'm going to run out, and I'm not going without a fight to use every square inch first.  To that end, I cut the 'glass in half leaving about 25 inches across.  This gave just enough coverage a couple inches above the port fillet and a couple inches into the footwell.  I then mixed up some epoxy and let that cure overnight.  By the way, it is so nice just to mix epoxy and not thicken it.  The small things in life, I tell you.

Laying out the fiberglass tape pattern.
Dry fitting the 'glass.  This is a sheet cut exactly in half.

Wet down and curing.  It overlaps both the footwell and up the sides, too.
While that cured, I figured I'd work kitty corner and do the starboard cabin decking. I like setting up the 'glass first, getting it just right, and then adding the frog tape to fit the 'glass.  Works very well this way. It looked a bit like a ghost ship with the fiberglass. 

The ghost ship, Lollipop...

Wet down.  As I write this, it has 2 layers of epoxy.  I am still hoping to keep the side bright, so we'll see.
Once the port side cured, I then moved onto the starboard cockpit seating area.  I figured I'd need to sit in the boat to do this right, and I did, so glad I waited.  Using the other half of the sheet, I was pleased to see I cut it pretty much exactly in half, no small feat on a sheet of 'glass that large.  This got wetted down and allowed to cure.  Meanwhile, I mixed up some more unthickened and put a second coat on the port cockpit seats.

Starboard gets laid.  I'll have a patch in the middle that will complete the decking.
Working kitty corner again, I then did the port side cabin decking.

This also went on well.  I was able to get some down the front, too.
A note about the frogtape.  With a couple years of experience now, I've got a good handle on the frogtape plus fiberglass technique.  The key to it, at least for me, is to wait until it's cured.  If it hasn't set yet, it will be difficult to cut.  And when it's cured, it doesn't even need to be cut.  Gripping just under the frogtape and lifting it decidedly will snap the fiberglass right along the tape.

I started doing it this way because I didn't want to cut the boat with the razor.  Instead, I have a thin score just outside the tape in case the snap doesn't happen smoothly.  When done right, you will have a thin, jagged edge that can be quickly sanded down, unlike those long threads of 'glass that never go away.  Being decent at frogtape 'glassing allows me the freedom to assemble the fiberglass in parts and reduces waste.  It's a win for all (but perhaps none moreso than the Big Box Store because I use a lot of the stuff).

With the four areas cured, I turned my attention to the footwell. I had grand designs on how to tackle this, but in the end wimped out and used a pretty straightforward approach.  The sides stretch out about 8 inches, overlapping the 'glass that's already here.  For the most part, it came out OK.  The corners and whatnot caused typical issues which I'll address after it cures.

The reason for the issues is that this is a fairly large area requiring large darts and a good deal of finesse (to get the alignment right), balance (to not fall into the footwell), efficiency (to work quickly so things don't gum up), and artistry (to ensure it doesn't look like shYte when done).  It's such a highly visible area I really wanted this to be near perfect.  I'll settle for OK.

This wasn't easy.  Good luck out there.

Done, after a couple hours and a couple aspirins.

Looking down the trench.  The dark areas are low spots where I tried to sand away the fillet issues.  This will of course be heavily painted so won't show.
View aft.  Note the transom doesn't have much treatment yet. I'll run a wide strip side to side to finish that up.
When walking around, I noticed that the whole boat feels much stronger.  It no longer flexes when I walk on it and it's very clearly able to hold my weight.  This is a good thing!  Over the next couple days, I'll add a couple extra epoxy applications, do the sides (aft and forward) and clean up the transom.  Then it's adding the rubrails onward to the flip.