Showing posts with label epoxy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label epoxy. Show all posts

15 November 2014

Interlux Brightside

I chose the Primekote 404/414 as primer because, at the time, I had not decided between Brightside and Perfection.  I have long referred to Perfection as 'the poor man's Awlgrip' and to Brightside as 'the poor man's Perfection'.  All three share similar qualities: they are rugged, hold up well to UV and to seawater, go on very well with a minimum of application effort (just roll on and take care) and are somewhat compatible in that primer for any one of them can be used with the lower grades of paint.  If you can't afford Awlgrip or a guy like Jeremiah at CY to apply it for you, your next bet is to apply the two-part epoxy Primekote and then pick either Perfection or Brightside.

Jerry, from the C44 Second Alarm, has been my boatyard neighbor for two seasons now.  He very generously offered to assist me with the application and did most of the rolling of both the Primekote and the Brightside himself.  I defer to his expertise in applying surface finishes as he's completely redone the hull of his 1981 boat from bare fiberglass to finish gelcoat, almost entirely on his own.  We readily share concerns, advice and encouragement and so he was a natural and welcome partner in this vital chore for Diana.


Taking the time to do it now


I took the better part of two days off from work for this.  To some this sounds irresponsible; but, to me, a boat is like a pet.  If it needs you now, it needs you now; and you are irresponsible to put it off till a situation becomes unhealthy.  I don't consider boats mere things, like that.  They have spirits and souls and feelings and needs.  Sail one and you know what I'm talking about.  I saw it during the Sandy storm-- with 68,000 boats in New Jersey having insurance claims filed, you just know that some of them were owned by people who said, 'It's only a boat.  It's insured.'  I could use the money anyway.'

Forgive the harsh opinion; but these people clog up the insurance-claim process and annoy and delay those of us who truly care.  I saw BOATUS and many others come through like knights in shining armor for boat owners who truly cared-- and I worked very hard on restoring several of those boats myself, if only because of two things:

1. I know what you feel like when your boat needs work, since I love my boat as much as you love yours.
2. I want to see your boat happy and sailing again as much as I want to see mine happy and sailing again.  This is what I do, and this is why I do it.

So I was grateful to Jerry for his help but I knew he knows how I feel about it because I know he feels the same way about his boat.


Brightside lessons


Since this is me, I have to delve into the bad news first!

I uploaded these two pics in a large format to illustrate how the first coat of Brightside goes on.  Formerly both of these places on Diana were repaired, using a combination of Evercoat 27 and WEST epoxy with filler.  The first one, below, had some significant pitting in the gelcoat and, being on the shaded, close-quartered side of the boat when it was in The Swamp, I did not get the chance to finish fairing these.  In truth I didn't really see them that well there.  So Jerry and I decided, what the heck? --and we painted over them to see what we'd get.  I don't think you can notice in this picture but the Brightside does not cover imperfections very well, if at all.

So, Lesson #1 with using Brightside:
It is not latex house paint.  It is not 'high hiding'.  It changes the color and seals the surface; it does not fill divots at all.


The second pic, below, illustrates what I call 'the thin white panties problem'.  (You get no further explanation of the name.)  This was where I filled the factory-installed galley-sink drain hole (relocating it, with seacock, to the bilge).  I was anxious to see how well Brightside would cover over darker-colored stuff like the WEST epoxy with gray and tan filler in it.  The result was that one coat did pretty well.  This would disappear completely on the second coat.

So, Lesson #2 with using Brightside:
It does change color; but when it's white over dark, it'll take two coats.  This is in line with pretty much any other paint; but here I believe it is a factor of the thin application layer of Brightside.  You don't put it on thick; you do multiple coats.  (In other words, it's not Bilgekote!)


At the end of the day, the guys from the shop were coming out and saying things like 'Hey!  John has a shiny boat now!'  I doubt they realized what this meant to me-- it may be the first time I have received any kudos from others on my work with this boat at all.  Naturally I replied that it was all down to Jerry-- for his constant encouragement, invaluable assistance and almost-paternal admonishing me to keep moving.  This is a guy who supervises urban firemen-- he knows how to motivate people and in my case has done it well.


We got the second coat done the following day, after I spent the whole morning (18-20 hours' drying time) sanding this coat with 320.  We had one egregious error (mine, I am sure) where we had to retouch a place where I missed tipping (probably due to intense sun glare that side).  The attempt to get it on and all smooth was not successful.  It ended up being covered but as a lump that looks like a bulkhead pressing through.

So, Lesson #3 with Brightside:
You have about five minutes, and no more, to finish rolling and tipping applied paint.  Don't hesitate-- get it right now, and keep moving on.  You won't be able to go back and fix it; it'll mean another whole coat if you let it go.

This is all well anyway, as I'd like to redo a few places on the transom and resolve the matter of a few divots.  I'll do the third coat in the spring (as well as another barrier coat on the bottom).  For now, Diana's going under a shrink-wrapped cover so I can focus on the engine, the electrical system, and a few odds and ends that can be fit to the boat and finished in the shop.

Thanks again to Jerry for all his work; for this is really all down to him here.

* * *

24 October 2014

Replacement cockpit drains - Take Two

18-19 July 2014


I don't think I mentioned this before, so....

The small brass fittings I installed about two seasons ago (here) were really too small.  After making a big deal out of putting them in, I decided to replace them with the very idea I have been advising other H25 owners to do for many years.

The original H25 drains were RC Marelon through-hulls straight out the back wall of the cockpit-- necessitating that water either climb up the 5/8" threshold to flow out or else stay in the cockpit pan.  I installed the little brass drains in the sole itself, fitted them with 90-degree elbows and though them good enough.  After consulting with my friend Roland (SV Moonshine) about his solo Atlantic crossing, I decided too big can never be big enough.

The fix I have been long suggesting for this entails the fitting of a rigid fiberglass tube straight out the very bottom corner of the cockpit pan through the transom.  In what has to be the most productive two two-hour work sessions I have ever had on this boat (even in the face of predicted rain), I drilled the holes, bedded these into place, removed the old ones and filled and faired the old holes.  I did one one day and one the next, after a full day of work each time.  It impressed even myself!


Here's the view from the cockpit.  The tubes are 1" inside, 1-1/4" outside diameter, pressed fiberglass, ordered from McMaster-Carr.  It was about $21 for one 60-inch piece, which, cut in half, fit perfectly for this application.  I deliberately made the cut on an angle, twisting each tube in its hole in order to fill the corner (shorter side inboard).  Bedded in 5200 and faired with WEST epoxy and Microlight, they look like they were molded there.


At the transom I allowed the excess length to just stick out and, when the epoxy had dried, cut them shorter with a hacksaw and used the orbital sander to smooth them over.  This picture doesn't show it so well, but the factory's installation wasn't symmetrical-- one old hole (filled as of this picture) will appear closer to the new tube than the other side.  I just eyeballed the site from above, applied a ruler and made them lead  out parallel to the centerline, straight aft from the corners of the cockpit pan.

The green tape covers the HIN.  I got some epoxy into it a while ago and decided to preclude any more messing it up.

The other two through-hulls are the Marelon ones I installed for the bilge pumps.


Looking under the cockpit the downward angle and parallel leads are seen clearly.  The duct tape is part of one of my 'mooyock' solutions for filling holes.  When the old through-hulls were taken out (with hammer and chisel), I taped over the holes in the inside and made up 'communion wafers' of fiberglass to stuff into the voids from the outside with epoxy.  Why try to fill a hole that's overhead or angled so that the epoxy will only dribble out?

This isn't a great view of it, but below the tubes is a little floor I installed aft of the low bulkhead in the foreground.  This low bulkhead, a little higher than the waterline, will contain water from any rudder-post leaks in the event of a rudder strike (which should be high on the list of any sailor's worst nightmares).  A small hole, here seen stained in epoxy, is fitted with a brass tube which will accommodate one of those little rubber transom-drain plugs.  It's not the most secure arrangement; but it's much better than having nothing at all in the event of this happening, for which Stephen Dashew says your best scenario is to crack the rudder blade.  Any other possibility involves catastrophic damage to the hull-- and, with your average production spade-rudder boat, probably the end of your voyage.


This pic, with the fuel tank in place, shows the upper end of the cockpit-drain tube.  With the little brass things in place, there had to be an elbow over the back edge of the tank that seriously complicated attaching fuel hoses and intruded on space for removing the tank.  Now this is practically structural-- no worries for stuff in the lazzarette weighting down the drain hoses till they fail or pop off.

(The dark spot on the tank is an old epoxy spill, not a leak or any damage.  This tank has been kicking about this boat for very long, getting dusty and spilled-upon, and only now (September) is is finally in its place for good.  Of course I've kept all the openings well taped-up!)

* * *


Finally! --it's paint.

9-10 October 2014


I have been procrastinating the hull paint on this boat for an inordinate time.  This is really 'just because' --I truly haven't felt like investing the time and effort into it till now.  But I've had the gallon kit of Interlux Primekote for a while, just for when I decided to do it, and so I finally bowed to the constant encouragement of my friend and boatyard neighbor Jerry (C44 Second Alarm) and together we attacked this.
(The spots on the bottom are my repair of some hull cracks that had spread through the Pettit Protect barrier coating that I applied last year.  Discovering these was distressing; but I've been determined to have this boat done properly and so the Dremel took was applied right through it and WEST epoxy, with milled fibers as filler, was troweled into the gouges.  As of now it's really pretty good.)


Jerry did the rolling and I was going to try tipping it, for which I bought a couple of really good brushes, but we found that Primekote doesn't want to be tipped.  We also found that it should be thinned more than the 20% the label advises-- I approximated about 25% (or a little more) into each batch.  We mixed 5 batches of about 20 ounces each and this did a little more than two full coats of the hull.  Jerry was a champion with the rolling and really made the paint spread well with virtually no heavy spots.


Earlier pics will show the extensive repair on the transom.  Upon removing the center-mounted backstay tang, I discovered its load had sort of impressed upon the transom, creating a hollow.  I filled this with new 'glass and plenty of WEST epoxy with Microlight.  With Jerry's help I sanded the entire hull with 80 grit, and then 120 grit, using DryGuide, this marvelous black powder that, applied to the hull before sanding, illustrates clearly where your highs and lows are.  Sand it all off and it's fair-- and, amazingly, that stuff does not lie.  This hull is incredibly fair-- and, in some places, fairer than it was fresh from the factory!


I haven't seen this transom all one color since I brought the boat up to Delran!


This poor boat had numerous close encounters with pilings and the like, to the point where some PO cut off a section of bow rail to effect a repair.  I took this off again to repair his repair and left it off for the painting.  By some odd coincidence this is the very section of rail that needs to be cut down to accommodate the anchor roller (as it's tradition for sailboats to have the primary anchor rode to starboard).  The whole nose has been redone with 'glass, Microlight, milled fibres, and endless sanding.  Now in the bright white Primekote it looks almost done.

The holes formerly occupied by the hull-mounted running lights will be fitted with teardrop-shaped black Plexiglas windows, giving light to the forepeak locker and finishing off the bow in a familiar way.  I'm putting little blue LED lights in here (called 'docking lights' on the breaker panel) to represent Diana's personality.

* * *

24 May 2014

Inner-forestay support

This pertains to the pole-lift/inner staysail idea I've had for a while.  The blog post is here: http://dianaofburlington.blogspot.com/2012/08/internal-pole-lift.html

In fitting an inner forestay, even if it's a detachable one, the foredeck needs to be reinforced.  Though I've filled all the rotten core adequately, the deck alone won't support something that amounts to a chainplate and may be called upon, in a catastrophe, to support the rig as the only surviving headstay.  So I decided upon a "horse", a structure going athwartships at this point.  Here is my original drawing (on the piece of plywood I would use for the crossmember/deck beam).


Below is shown the initial structure, two short little bulkheads in the forepeak, aligned with a couple of sticks.  The stick under the starboard-side shelf is propping up the shelf from its as-built position, as it was both angled downwards inboard and also too low.  The cleat on the forward bulkhead (what used to be the rode locker)  is aligning the two shelves more or less evenly; though the starboard-side one, once leveled, is too high by 1/4".  Such is the nature of budget-minded mass-produced yachts of the 1970s.


Of course these pieces narrowed the space considerably.  I had trouble wedging my out-of-shape self forward of this to disconnect the running-light wiring (along the port side) which kept getting in the way; so I decided to cut out the bulkheads a little.

I am always wary of amorphous shapes like this (such as on the back of the Hyundai Sante Fe SUV, which is downright hideous) so I just used a 4" sanding block to scribe a line parallel to the hull and deck all round.  This picture shows the cutout with the crossmember in place.  The bulkheads are 3/8" and the crossmember is 1/2".  I use mainly good-quality cabinet-grade plywood, well-saturated in epoxy and sealed in epoxy paint (these will be done in Easypoxy).  The void to port is for the wiring, which here I have tucked back out of the way.


Pretty cool how the bow-locker door hinges open and fits into the curve of this new bulkhead; huh?  (Should I say I planned it this way?)

(And, yes; this is where the microwave goes.  I've written on this before.)

On most budget-minded production boats, the V-berth shelf is meant mainly to stiffen the hull above the bunktop, as this tends to be the longest and highest section of otherwise-unsupported fiberglass hull on most boats.  It's not there to be useful; and most of the time the fiddles on the shelf are so miniscule as to be only for show.  Determined to have a proper forepeak, I made these high enough (6" inside) to contain plenty of gnarly gear that will accummulate here, like fenders, mooring lines, a mooring pennant, spare tackle, and probably even a couple of sailbags (Diana's main and jib already share a bag that would fit in here as it is).  The fiddles are made of 1/4" plywood, just decent cabinet-grade lauan that I had got to finish some Barbie dollhouses for my kids.  I cut them down forward of the new bulkheads to allow the little door (the only cabinet door with hinges in the whole boat) to open fully.


Above is to go a mahogany plank, about 4" wide and 1/2" thick, to serve as a backing plate for the deck winch (which serves the anchor rode), the mooring cleat, and the inner-forestay attachment fitting, as well as the aesthetic purpose of representing the centerline.  Originally I made this for the full length of the space; but I will cut it and fit two pieces to the fore and aft of this crossmember.  It occurs to me to have some really nice bright white LED floodlights under the deck, forward of this, to illumine the whole compartment.

Along the deck, against the hull, kind of like a facia meant to hide the toerail bolts, I will fit a wooden cleat between the new bulkheads and the (new) chain-locker bulkheads, on which can be mounted hooks and straps on which to hang line and sailbags and other stuff.

These pics were taken a few days ago.  As of today (Saturday, 24 May) I have applied a fillet of 5200 along the hull and, using WEST epoxy, 'glassed the bulkheads and crossmember into place.  When this is kicked-off I'll be painting this with semi-gloss Easypoxy.The original faux-teak forward bulkhead will be left as original; though when I replace the door I'll be replacing the tired old brass-plated-steel offset hinges with some in SS or chrome.  My daughter Rachel hand-painted ship's wheels and anchors onto some wooden knobs for my mother's kitchen cabinets recently; there is one left over and I may use it on this door.

Stay tuned for the pics of after I install the rode-locker bulkheads and trim up here.  I've mocked it up a few times and it's going to look really cool.

* * *





21 September 2012

Custom cooler

This is my really cool customized camping cooler for Diana.


Here shown holding what it usually does-- iced tea-- is the interior of the cooler as I modified it.  The divider is Plexiglass left over from the cabin windows.  It slides down into place between Starboard fiddles mounted in 5200 (to seal the screw holes so water doesn't get into the foam core; it does not stick to Starboard).  The side corners are cut out to let water reach the drain fitting, a plastic one I installed in the forward end.  The drain deposits its dribble into a PVC receptacle in the floor of this compartment which in turn carries the dribble forward into the bilge.  The drain in the cooler is cut off flush with the bottom so the cooler will sit level (and thus structurally sound) on a flat surface like the dock.

Beyond the divider Starboard fiddles hold a grilled shelf for smaller items.  The bagged ice goes under the grill.  (This cooler is not big or strong enough to hold a full block.  Nevertheless, with a plug in the drain it will hold some residue of ice-- not merely cold water-- for 5 days.)  With this configuration, there is a place that remains free of ice cubes to hold taller things, like full gallons of water or iced tea, wine bottles, etc.  The smaller stuff goes above the ice in back.

The grill is a leftover section from the light baffle material I got when installing a work light in my mother's kitchen.  It is not very strong and was annoying to cut, as a jigsaw only shattered it and a bandsaw did only a little less damage.  I resorted to cutting it by hand with a very fine hacksaw blade.  Of course the sides are not parallel, due to the cooler's shape, and the back edge is slightly rounded.  And then there is the issue of ensuring that the square holes, when cut through, allow enough support along the fiddles.  As can be seen I got it aligned so that one long strake rides on each side fiddle.

The cooler is not a 'marine'-spec one but a standard Coleman '5-day' campers'-spec one.  The marine ones all have top hinges along the side.  As seen here Diana needs one hinged from the end-- or, as here, not at all.

The cooler sits under the ladder; its top is covered by the bottom step (which I personally never use, as I step on the quarter berth edge when entering or leaving the cockpit).  This step is hinged at the back.  I do not yet have it rigged but I want to have a Fastpin slid through the ladder side(s) to hold up the step.  Then one can lift the cooler lid without having to hold up the weight of the step.  The step does not protrude far enough beyond the upper one to allow anyone to accidentally step on it and break it or bend the Fastpin.  If it's pinned up, you will see there is no step below (or just the cooler lid) and step onto the quarter berth instead.

The pencil scribble on the not-yet-painted right side (left in photo) is marking where the recessed red LED footlight will go.  With the step and lid down, it illuminates the step.  With the step up, it illuminates the cooler.

The heavy fiddles screwed to the sides support the step, which is 1/2" plywood with a 3/4" step plate epoxied to the front edge.  It was varnished about 7 years ago with Captain's Varnish and is still holding up well.

* * *


Bare-bottomed girl

I suppose this really should read 'bare-bottomed lady', as she is 38 years old; but it got attention.


This status is the product of about 2 seasons of scraping and sanding (with everything else I have to do).  I began using Stryp-Eaze but I had a very bad scraper and made little progress.  I changed to Pettit's Bio-Blast, which I found did not respond to following the directions as they were given.  It's supposed to stay on 15-25 minutes without drying; but I found that on a moderately-warm day, not even hot, it went from gel to utter varnish in much less time than that.  The best tactic was to apply it, using a brush from a cup, wait about 5 minutes and then go at it.  I got a really good deal on a scraper-- with two sets of blades-- at Harbor Freight for $2.99.  No complaints at all with this-- it worked great; but I did rotate the 4-sided blade several times before sharpening it as it did jam up pretty quickly.

I also found that the chemical stripper, having to soak into the paint in order to work well, does not work overhead!  On surfaces that were more on the bottom than on the sides, apparently the stripper merely hung on the paint, softening the very outer layer but doing little else.  So all of the bottom (read that: hardest-to-work-with) places were done mechanically, with 'Dusty' the orbital sander, 50-grit discs and hard work.


Here is a pic from earlier in the season which shows the very bottom layer of paint.  There were, apparently, three layers, all of old-school hard-shell antifouling.  This one was, of course, hardest to remove.  The chemical stripper did not permeate this paint, no matter how many times it was reapplied-- the greenish places are dried Bio-Blast which did not cut it.  For the most part it came off with the orbital sander (which meant that, for the most part, I wore my work home).

(May-Be is my cousin Mike's Capri 26 which was sold in the middle of this summer and relocated to its new home in New York.  This freed up plenty of room to work on mine!)

The black stripe came off well; apparently it was just standard enamel and the stripper ate it easily.  It was always too small and I will be redoing it completely more in keeping with the lines of the boat.


I am sure to have more on this later; but here I will add a reminder that the boottop stripe always has sheer, in both top and bottom edges.  Nothing looks worse than a perfectly-straight boottop, like how this one was.  The top, of course, reflects the sheerline of the boat.  The bottom edge does too; but much less conspicuously. For a boat of this size the bow end might be 2-1/2" above the actual floating waterline, the middle about 1-1/2" and the stern about 2" (I'll post my actual dimensions when I have worked them out). The bottom paint is exposed to the stripe (there should be NO hull color showing, ever).  Without getting too metaphysical you might think of the revealed bottom paint as that thin line of not-yet tanned skin that the woman shows just beyond her swimsuit at the beach.  It looks like vulnerability (a boat at rest should never show her bottom paint to strangers!) but it also indicates strength and hardiness, that she can and will endure whatever these elements hand out.  No one admires a boat that looks like it can barely stay afloat!


This view shows (albeit only slightly) some of the patching I did to the bottom.  The old through-hulls were removed and filled (the two larger circles below and beyond the stand pad).  Below them are seen the new through-hulls, which my daughter helped me install (it's always a two-person job).  The forward one is for the old SR Mariner speedometer-- I got a new fitting from them and almost too late realised it had to be aligned fore-and-aft to ensure the paddlewheel works properly.  I had expected the alignment was done by the paddlewheel itself.

I have since faired the very top of the keel in front-- it looks awfully big here but it's not really.


The other blotches are places where the gelcoat was chipped, not from blistering but just from age.  I filled these using Microlight most of the time, just whenever I had some extra from fairing the deck or keel blade.  This is not the best stuff to use under the waterline; as the filling compound will soak up water; but this bottom will all be sealed in barrier-coat epoxy and so it'll survive just fine.

I also mean to carry the barrier coating up above the waterline in some places, merely to seal some cracks there; so as yet there is no paint-to line or masking involved.

It is important to note that these ancient-gelcoat cracks are not moisture blisters.  One task I had long feared to attempt was to get moisture readings on this hull; but Jerry was checking his C44 in the yard and I borrowed the meter for Diana.  Being so long out of the water it now reads a very respectable 6 and below (out of 22) just about everywhere.  The place along the port side of the keel, where I had detected some delamination and then repaired, now reads under 10.  This might even account for standing bilge water.  The starboard side, however, reads about 16 which is alarming.  I will probe this from inside when I get the chance (before barrier coat) but it may reflect bilge water as well.

(The rudder reads well over 22-- with loud pinging from the detector meter! --which I will address in another place.)




Poor Diana, of course, is understandably embarrassed to be laid so bare and undignified before strangers' eyes.  I told her she has nothing to worry about, that at least it's a very good-looking bottom; but she was very prompt, as soon as I had taken these photos, to rap me in the head with a bit of stray line and then to lash out at my leg as I vaulted out of the hatch--


By the way this still hurts (wearing long pants is like sanding it with 80 grit all day); and I have promised the boat to get the barrier coat on as soon as possible.  At least then she'll be in her pewter-gray underwear, not a bad look for any hull.

* * *

24 August 2012

Some inconveniences are beyond counting

I once told my young brother-in-law, as he was building some plastic model airplane and complaining about glue on his fingertips, that to do a good job sometimes you have to love your project more than you care for your self.  This is especially true when it comes to convenience-- after all, most of the things we love are patently inconvenient.  And yet we pursue them anyway; and in this pursuit is how we acknowledge their value to us.


This photo is not great; it's intended to show the nice fat mahogany splinter I got in my foot.  (How? --I wasn't even barefoot.)  In this one week I got this splinter and another as well, tore my fingertips on a jigsaw blade (it was not running), jammed the meat of my hand in the drill-press chuck and mysteriously gashed my leg which bled all over the project in process.

The West Marine sticker is on my daughter's laptop.






Here is the top of the cabin, with no hatch or hatch shroud in place, the day I was fastening down the new hatch-slider rails.  The green tape along a piece of wood is a dam to keep epoxy from coursing down the side of the cabin and over the windows (already let that happen once, so never again!).  I had noticed a stickiness whenever I was kneeling a certain way but in the semi-mad rush to get the sticks into position and screwed down I attributed it to something stuck to my leg.  Only when I was done the most urgent part of it did I happen to notice the red stuff, which I then concluded was blood.

That's the foredeck's hatch coaming in the distance.  At the time of this photo the hatch shroud was being used to cover up that opening-- that's it even farther beyond.

Below you can see something of the main cabin, the compression post, the settee and head trim, and whatnot.


So I took this photo downwards at my leg, probably just to record the solution to the mystery.

Here I am standing up on the quarter berth, my other foot on the ladder step.  The quarter berth is (at this time) the current lumberyard.  The gap below my foot is the 'wet locker,' the one place inside the accommodation that goes straight to the hull skin itself.  Over this I would like to make a panel of slats, like the white-pine ceiling we make for C44s.  On the side of the ladder, behind my leg, goes the stainless-steel double hook to hang up wet foulies.  On the teak cabin face behind me is already another of these hooks.


You can see the cooler under the bottom shelf of the ladder; its cover is accessible when you lift the shelf.  A Fastpin stuck through a hole in the ladder side holds it up.  It's made so that if one should descend the ladder while the shelf is up the shelf won't stick out so far so as to catch a heel and break off-- although it does mean there won't be a second shelf in place for the one coming down.

Also two sections of the three-part cabin sole are visible here.  At the time of this photo the center section is just rough plywood-- it'll be varnished mahogany later.

* * *



29 May 2012

JC's secret system for filling deck-core rot

I recently posted a comment responding to a core-fixing issue on the Hunter Owners Web.  I think this is valuable for most fiberglass-boat owners to consider.  Here is the whole text.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
JC:

I filled all of the 'rotted'/'questionable'-core spots on my deck with epoxy. It's so rigid you could hold a teenagers' hip-hop dance party on it.

Once I made a mistake and began filling too close after a rainstorm. I don't know what I was thinking; but when I [pumped with the syringe] I saw that the epoxy actually pushed the water up to the surface. I was very surprised-- thought I had wandered into a really fine mess. What I found was that by continuing to inject epoxy, the ugly baby-vomit-looking water/epoxy slime that migrated upwards eventually stopped-- all the water (and not very much had ever got in) was gone and now the epoxy was doing its job, saturating to the bottom of the void and filling towards the top. The result was a deck area as stiff as any of the other places I have filled.

The only drawbacks to my system of 'drilling and filling' is that epoxy weighs more than does foam or balsa. In very large repairs the weight difference could be a problem. In my 40 years of boatbuilding experience I have never found a point at which this is a problem. The sides of a small production sailboat's cabin are just not enough volume to warrant worry about any increase in weight. The average owner's toolbox would probably negate any theoretical savings.

While it is very true that 'Water migrates very far from the point of entry' [mentioned by the original poster], it is also true that epoxy does the same thing, perhaps even better than does water. Penetrating epoxy is made to do this. I have been filling voids successfully with epoxy since I first heard of the stuff in the 1970s and the only significant mess I ever encountered was when the epoxy would not seem to stop sucking in, and more and more got pumped in with the syringe, until I happened to notice an uninstalled drawer sitting in the pilot-berth area with one whole corner full of the stuff. Through the tiny voids between plywood edge-grain and the fiberglass, the epoxy had migrated 10 or 12 feet along the flange of the boat (and fortunately found something to drip into that was more or less replaceable). To this day that part of the flange on that boat is probably the strongest hull-deck joint we've ever had on one of those boats.

I would trust WEST epoxy with any wood-to-wood or wood-to-raw-fiberglass joint with my life-- and, oh, wait-- I do; because my boat has been restored, remodeled and improved based on that ethic.
 
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A friend, Pilot, then asked me:

'Can you describe the process and the materials you would use. Specifically the typical hole size drilled the distance between holes and the number of holes for a given area. I've read other articles for epoxy injection but would like a builders take on this process.

'My boat was surveyed 3 years ago and an area around the windlass was found to have an elevated moisture level. Rather than pull the windlass and start replacing plywood core and all that's involved in that, injecting may be the solution that stems the moisture migration and solidifies the deck.

'My own personal thoughts on wet core and soft decks is, it's a distraction, and after 37 years of sailing on many different boats some that I've owned I have never seen a catastrophic failure based on moisture or soft decks.'

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So I told him (writing a veritable book into the process!):

If you know there is water present you can drill a hole-- only through the fiberglass layer(s)-- from one side or the other and then apply a vacuum hose to suck it out. This works surprisingly well-- it's the first step I recommend in fixing rotted outboard-skiff transoms. They all rot (motorboaters don't seem to care for their boats like we do ours); and this is the best way to save them. (I am doing my motor bracket's backing board the same way.) You then drill a few smaller holes, sized to fit the syringe, maybe about 3/16" or 1/4", into the top of the transom and pump in the stuff.

I used to thin the epoxy with acetone (not what Gougeon Brothers recommend; though when I told of them of this they said 'Who are we to argue with the Cherubinis about treating wood?" ) But you really do not need to thin it; as it's only doing its job by penetrating the way it does.

You might go cautiously at first, with just a little (3-5 pumps' worth?)-- it will migrate down. When it comes out the hole you drilled for the water, at the bottom, you know it's done what it should (and you know the transom was toast). Next batch, tape over the hole and after it's kicked off, go for broke and really pump it in.

For a deck, you do basically the same thing. You might drill a hole into the underside for your vacuum hose. Tape it securely to make an 'airtight' seal-- I have done this adequately enough with duct tape-- and run it till the vacuum cleaner's motor labors. For Diana I knew the deck to be already dried-out (but for a mistake involving a recent rain, as I said). Be sure to plug up or tape over any openings in the underside-- for the epoxy will definitely find them. You might station a partner below to watch for drips! --and be very wary of when you are pumping in tons of epoxy and apparently making no progress! Spots to watch are along the flange/toerail seam and anywhere silcone (or something worse) was used to bed down through-bolted deck hardware.

Topside, you drill a few holes to begin (you can always drill more if you think you have to). The best tactic is to choose a spot, maybe a few square feet and outboard (low) on the deck, drill pilot holes-- into the core only (mark the bitt with tape if you're worried, to be sure)-- near the highest border of the spot, and fill till you see the epoxy is no longer soaking down in your pilot holes. Don't make the mistake I've made too many times and go silly drilling too many holes-- when the epoxy makes it down to the lower holes you get a dribbling mess all over.

I generally make the holes about 4 inches apart; but it depends on the size of the area you are working with and how serious the rot is inside the core. In theory even rotted core is still 'there'; and epoxy will bond very well with wood or foam dust. As I said before, it is heavier than core material; but as I said too it's never been a terrible concern in the proportions we're talking about. For odd isolated areas it is a very solid, reliable, permanent fix. And if you do not get it all, the parts you do get remain strong and make a good base or boundary for you to fill other places.

If you choose to drill only in places where there is nonskid, you have only to fair over the holes and repaint the nonskid patches. For my deck, which was pretty bad, I resigned myself to repainting the whole deck (with Perfection) and I was redesigning the pattern of the nonskid patches anyway. The little indentations left when the epoxy is done flowing in can be faired with Marine-Tex or epoxy with silica gel, either of which will be rugged enough to not fall out in future and will be able to take paint (after the usual proper prep). Gelcoat, being polyester-based, will not stick well to epoxy (though the reverse is true). So in using epoxy you've pretty much given over the hope of refairing the affected area in polyester- (or vinylester-) based products.

This system should also be used any time you have to mount or re-mount hardware to a cored deck. Drill a pilot hole-- only through the fiberglass to the core-- for each mounting screw and fill it. Do the same in the area under the bit of hardware, like a winch and especially anything in compression or tension, like a padeye or halyard-lead block. When it's cured, drill through the solid-epoxy core you've just filled and bed down the part with 5200-- which will keep out water, hold like crazy especially in shear or tension, and provide needed flexibility. In many cases you will need only fair-sized fender washers with the under-deck locknuts because the epoxy block you just made can serve as an adequate backing plate, especially for anything in shear, like cleats and
halyard stoppers.

I had doubts about the integrity of my hull after I rebedded the keel and so drilled a few exploratory holes into the bottom strata, between the keel bolts, to probe them with epoxy. This was supposed to be only solid fiberglass; and it was. No hole took more than a fraction of the syringe's worth. It was-- and is-- solid.

For Diana I had made a new, short little bulkhead at the back end of the cabin sole on which I stood the ladder/cooler shelf structure. I used 'high-quality' 3/4" MDO for it. Within too short a time this board was rotten from water behind it (from the cockpit-seat locker leaks), even though it had been well saturated (so I thought) before I installed it. (I blame it on using Dave's MAS and not my own WEST epoxy. MAS just does not penetrate as well; period.) Removing the bulkhead was out of the question; and it could not stay like it was. I drilled pilot holes down into the top edge of the plywood, straight into the depths of the laminations, just like I would have done for a plywood motorboat transom, and poured in the epoxy. It took three or four tries and made an awful mess (the stuff ran straight through the spoiled core and gushed out the bottom edge, finding gaps in the 5200 and dribbling into the bilge, where it glued down a stray PVC fitting that I still haven't ground completely away) but I sorted it and now it's solid.

I think this is a good solution for your [Pilot's] windlass mounting bolts. Given enough epoxy in the surrounding core, it will take the very severe shock and shear loads very well. Once epoxy has found something to latch onto-- the rough inner surface of the fiberglass deck, the rotten core, the remnants of any plywood-- it will stay in place and provide a very sturdy inner stratum through which you can drill even big bolt holes. And it takes 5200 very well, adds stiffness, and displaces all gaps that might otherwise find condensation or stray moisture. The one thing it does not do well is flex-- but for a windlass mount you had better not have much flex (let the nylon rode take the shock loads!) and a rigid deck is always stronger and thus more secure underfoot than one that moves and flexes to the point of fatiguing the glass fibers within and weirds you out when you step on something you'd prefer to feel solid.

Epoxy and wood = perfect together.  :)

02 March 2012

Surprise, surprise

Here on poor Diana the V-berth area has been the last part of the interior to get any attention at all.  One of the first things I did was to install the holding tank under the after end of the bunk; but since then it's been partially dismantled and not much has been done here.  (Stay tuned for a forthcoming post on this compartment when the through-hulls go in.)  The V-berth area has been used as a lumber bay for too long.  The other day I cleared it all out and stashed the usable lumber (mahogany, spruce and white pine) in the house's attic.  By the time I had swept and vacuumed out the V-berth area I felt like I had got a huge load off my conscience.  Suddenly there is actual space in this boat!

And the boat must have lost 200 lbs as well!


Here is a (lousy) photo of the V-berth right after I swept and vacuumed (for the first time in I won't say how long!).  The 5-gallon pail full of wood bits (mostly Honduras mahogany) is the only remainder of the once daunting heap that formerly occupied this space.













While laying out the forepeak lockers (more on this later too) I observed that the 3/8"-plywood bunktop felt distressingly flimsy.  Just kneeling on it was enough to bend it far too much out of level for my liking.  I have already done all the other bunktops, removing the old cleats for the lift-out panels, installing new ones saturated and bonded with epoxy and peppering each one with plenty of #8 screws.  Each time the bunktop has become stronger and stiffer.  If these bunktops are 'glassed to the hull-- and they are-- they should be structural members in their own right-- and so they are, now.

Hunter used plain white-pine 1x2s for lift-out cleats, the same as you buy at Lowe's or Home Depot.  Some of them had edges that had been smoothly routered to about a 1/4" radius, in order to protect your knuckles when you are rummaging about in the compartment.  But even if they were glued to the plywood with wood glue (and some of them, like the V-berth ones, were not) they were merely painted with Pettit Fiberglass Undercoater and otherwise left alone.  In the middle compartment under the V-berth, three of the cleats were sound enough that they did not require replacement (at least, not today).  The cleat along the aft edge was both too loose and too short to lend much stiffness of the bunktop.  So I removed it and fashioned another one out of a piece of 1x3, essentially the full width of the bunk at that point (about 34").  Properly fastened (with screws and then cured epoxy) it will stiffen the whole structure.

Inside this compartment was a straggling bit of old electrical wiring, leading through the bilge to the rode locker for the port and starboard running lights in the hull.  All right; first, I never run wiring through the bilge.  All my new wiring is run under the hull-to-deck flange.  There it's accessible and out of the muck.  Second, this wiring is red and black, and also 16-gauge, neither of which is code for boats any more; so I have run all new red-and-yellow 14-gauge and so this wire is redundant.  And, third, I am not reusing the port and starboard running lights in the hull.  They are too small and too low to be of much use except when motoring through a calm harbor at night.  Diana will get a one-light red-and-green unit, with an LED bulb, mounted on the pulpit.

I tugged and tugged on the wire and realized I could not pull it out.  Sure enough, the wire disappeared through the middle compartment's forward bulkhead, passed through the dead-air space and emerged at the bottom of the rode locker.  Obviously the entire interior structure was assembled outside the boat-- and all the wiring stapled to where it should be-- and then installed in the hull in as close to a completed state as possible.  This is how Hunter built five of these boats each week.

Now I despise all dead-air spaces on boats.  If it's inaccessible to humans, rest assured it won't be to humidity, bugs and bilge water.  Who knows what might be going on inside there?  And an application of Murphy's Law ensures that if you have a problem leak, or hidden rot, or a bug infestation, it's going to be in the one compartment into which you cannot readily get.  I had already resolved to open this compartment, at first by installing an 8" clean-out plate and then, in interests of simplicity and economy, just cutting a lift-out hatch into it and adding fiddles.  Also it would give me the chance to inspect it and to apply some epoxy to what I was sure was bare plywood in there.

Following this philosophy I have already cut access holes into the feet of the settee berths which extend through the main bulkhead.  Formerly these spaces were inaccessible and yet open for leading wiring and attracting humidity and bugs.  Now the one to port is convenient for installing and maintaining the Whale footpump for the head sink.  Both these new-found compartments are done now-- but one lacks a lift-out panel as I just do not have any scrap 3/8" plywood, since I don't like to use it for much of anything.  I do have some specific need for a sheet of it soon (more on that later) and will remake a lot of the old lift-outs till it's all gone.

I laid out an opening of about 9 inches square and rocked the jigsaw in to avoid drilling 3/8" starter holes and to save the cutout to use as the lift-out panel.  A can of Krylon supplied the corners' radius.  The piece of plywood came out perfectly-- and then, for the first time in 37-1/2 years, a human being gazed in at the compartment beyond.  And-- what a surprise.


This photo shows the space after I sanded some of the fatigued paint and got ready to install the new cleats.  At the forward end is the new hatch, about 9 inches square.  It might serve as a secondary rode locker if my idea of the plastic trash cans doesn't happen.  This is one storage space Diana now has that most H25 owners don't even know about!  The bare wood at an angle in the center compartment is the new white-pine cleat that just happens to be lying in the space (had to check if it was not too wide for it).
Having seen the top photo you will notice I started peeling off the old hull liner.  This chore is not particularly hazardous but really makes a mess.  I have invented a vacuum attachment that has a 6" putty trowel and a tube for a handle that plugs into the vacuum hose, expressly for doing chipping work (what we at CBC called 'pachippulating') like this.  I'll try it out here (rest of hull liner is already off).  Really the hull liner up here is not in such bad shape and you can see it's had good adhesion.  But it's dry and a little crispy and Lord knows how clean it is.  I am replacing it with the 'Irish tweed' stuff from Defender.

What I found in this cubbyhole was remarkable.  I had been particularly distressed because the accumulated junk, that had been condemned to remain in the middle compartment till I cleared out the lumber, included a two-foot length of rope that was sopping wet.  From where did the water come?  The rest of the compartment appeared dry.  The bits of scrap wood in there with the rope were damp but nowhere near as wet as the rope.  The hawsepipe on the deck is taped over against weather.  All I can account for is that the holes from the stem fitting that was removed (see them in the top photo) are still open, though on a negative angle, and rain and snow must have been blowing in there all autumn and winter and running down through the rode locker and the dead-air space to the second compartment (though I never noticed water in the holding-tank one beyond, to which all of the forward ones drain).

But, no worries.  The dark-green glass of the inside of the hull, at the very end of the bilge, appears sound, strong and-- most surprisingly-- dry.  Even more surprising, so does the plywood.  It is not damp or dark or even smelly.  For some unfathomable reason the untreated wood, which should have been a totally gooky mess in a compartment that admits drainage water but no air, has remained bone-dry and free of rot and mildew for over three and a half decades.


This 'first look' at the newly excavated space shows perfectly healthy dark-green fiberglass resin, a tight layup, no evidence of water intrusion or delamination and, best of all, no damp or rotting plywood-- even though the plywood surfaces were all unfinished (and I mean RAW plywood-- no paint, resin or-- had Providence intervened-- epoxy (which maybe no one but my dad had heard of in 1974).

The little black circles on the bunktop are my marks for the screw holes.  There seem like so many! --but keep in mind four pieces of wood have to be installed here.

The grey stuff along the one side looks like oozed-out deck putty.  I do not think (nor hope) it's a mud-dauber nest!  But really there could have been anyone living in here; and there is no one.

The stick lying at the forward end is an old cleat being reused as the new forward cleat, yet to be installed in this photo.  I always make cleats as long or wide as possible to add stiffness across the crosswise grain of the merely-3/8"-thick plywood.  Properly adhered, a new cleat does wonders.

I reused another removed cleat for the after one of this hole.  Being 1x2 stock (1-1/2" wide) it goes smack up against the forward face of the after bulkhead of this compartment (at the bottom of the photo).  I planned it like this when I laid out the opening.  This way the after edge of that cleat is adhered with epoxy to the face of the bulkhead itself.  In many cases the tops of such bulkheads are where moisture intrudes to generate rot, since the bottom edges, along the hull, are typically better treated when the boat is assembled.  I really do not relish the thought of replacing an under-bunk bulkhead, especially when it's so easy to avoid ever having to do it.

The bits of plywood to the sides are a piece of scrap that I found in the 5-gallon pail of blocks and cut to fit (notice the one under the flash came from the end of the other).  I don't care about their shape-- you only see the parallel edges in the access opening and these bits of plywood have been, as of this writing, thoroughly saturated in epoxy and well-adhered to the underside of the plywood, which I also saturated before installing the fiddles.  As soon as I drill a 3/4" finger hole in the cut-out panel it will be painted in epoxy too and replaced as the new lift-out panel.

I will post photos of how these silly cleats and all have gone together after the epoxy dries.  This whole space, including the underside of the plywood, will be painted in epoxy later and then in white Interlux Bilgekote as soon as it's warm enough to ventilate the space and enable paint to dry.  The bunktop will get done in Durawhite (or whatever the new water-based mildew-resistant paint Pettit is offering now that replaces it).
 
I have not yet decided if it's worth it to extend PVC drain tubes from each of the forward compartments into the after one (where the holding tank and through-hulls are) in order to isolate them from each other.  Any of these might make a very good stash hole for bottled water, blankets, sweaters, boots, and various gear; and as with the one under the cockpit it would be really nice to keep a mishap in one (or water from the hawse pipe) from wetting them all.  Plugs in the ends of the drain tubes would keep them dry till you needed to evacuate them.

09 December 2011

Lost Star Yacht Club’s restoration-project quiz

An informative and entertaining self-examination


Anyone involved in restoring his own boat for any length of time will readily recognize the answer for each that best represents reality here!
(Note: as though you can’t guess, ALL of these are based on real-life experiences.)



The best-laid plans

Apparently, the previous owner of your boat was
  1. A dedicated yachtie who kept it in pristine order
  2. An older guy who let it go during the last few years he had it
  3. A complete idiot
Carefully-drawn plans or instructions for your intended projects
  1. Serve a valuable purpose in organizing, scheduling and budgeting the work
  2. Give a general idea which usually gets changed once you start the work
  3. Are likely to be left in the bathroom at home and thus disregarded in place of ‘just winging’ it when you’re already at the boat to work
Schedules and budgets are
  1. Valuable guides to keeping a sense of sanity and proportion
  2. Seldom absolute
  3. Completely pointless
The last time you had a completely new idea about what to improve on the boat was
  1. The last time you sailed it
  2. Right before you began an organized plan of restoration
  3. Five minutes ago
Parts catalogues will
  1. Be worth browsing to what’s available and what can be ordered
  2. Be important sources of ‘how-to’ information
  3. Get comprehensively marked-up with underlining, highlighting, circling, arrows and diagrams as well as notes and gift hints to family members who will really never see or heed them

Tools of the trade

The average yacht restorer’s tools and supplies are stored in
  1. A shiny metal rollaway tool chest with locking doors
  2. A handmade mahogany-and-plywood toolbox
  3. A mismatched collection of eleven (or is it twelve?) lidless containers and damp cardboard boxes, organized, if at all, in such a way that Rube Goldberg, Charles Manson and PeeWee Herman would consider it crazy
Your stepladder is
  1. A new orange fiberglass one from Home Depot
  2. An old aluminum one that has seen many years of dependable service
  3. A really crappy wooden one that was surreptitiously ‘borrowed’ from some other guy in the boatyard
The tool vital to starting the next job will mostly likely be found in the
  1. Tool box
  2. Last place the tool was used
  3. Bilge
Your electric extension cord is
  1. A brand-new blue one, 100 feet long, 12-gauge, with a heavy-duty plastic recoiling reel and a molded-in 4-outlet box with circuit breaker
  2. The two lengths of orange cord relied-upon for the hedge clippers at home
  3. Possibly more duct and electrical tape than actual electrical insultation
A flashlight’s most common function is to
  1. Illuminate poorly-accessible areas
  2. Attack would-be burglars or wasps’ nests
  3. Store dead batteries until you decide to throw them away
The usual condition of the average cordless drill/screwdriver’s batteries is
  1. Both at full charge as soon as possible
  2. The one in the unit dead, the other one charged and waiting in the charger
  3. The one in the unit dead, the other one, which died last night, nowhere to be found
Wood plugs are frequently sealed in the screw holes using
  1. Weldwood wood glue and an overnight drying process
  2. WEST epoxy and an acid brush
  3. The varnish, when you noticed the missing plug(s) right after you started to brush it on
Your boat-work shoes are
  1. High-quality leather moccasin-type deck shoes
  2. Sturdy, sensible work boots
  3. A pair of ripped, stained and punctured CVOs with the soles completely blown-out or held together with duct tape; and your wife wonders why on earth they are still in the house
Rubber gloves and dust masks are
  1. Essential, for safety and hygiene
  2. Frequently necessary for really ugly jobs
  3. Unheard-of

The procedures

You tend to have help in this project
  1. Most of the time
  2. About half the time
  3. Pretty much never, unless you count the times when somebody from the yard comes by with a beer and talks while watching you work
‘Cutting corners’ in quality is
  1. To be avoided
  2. Sometimes necessary
  3. Totally acceptable, so long as the task gets done
When you encounter a necessary task involving an area of expertise in which you have no experience, you will
  1. Seek help from an expert
  2. Read up on the procedure and treat it as a learning experience
  3. Get out the tools and epoxy and start doing it
During a restoration, the bilge usually contains
  1. Dirt and liquids, till they are cleaned or pumped out
  2. Hoses and wiring that would be unsightly if run elsewhere
  3. Wet pencils, locknuts and expensive electrical connectors you thought you mislaid and have had to buy again
When working on the boat, trash is
  1. Stuffed into a 5-gallon paint bucket which is emptied at the dumpster each evening
  2. Brushed into a corner of the cabin sole or cockpit
  3. Pitched out the companionway hatch at the spur of the moment; and may God have mercy on the poor people who may have stopped below to look over the boat
Some of the fiberglass lay-ups in your boat may contain
  1. Small air bubbles
  2. Dust or wood chips
  3. Sandwich lettuce, Dr Pepper and your blood
When installing fittings on spars, you will use
  1. One thread tap, carefully maintained with oil
  2. Maybe two or three taps
  3. So many taps that you must make the 20 minutes’ trip from the boatyard to the auto-parts place several times a weekend
When you are kneeling or balancing on hull timbers to install new cabin-sole panels, the electric drill that gets in your way will most likely end up with the point of the new spade bitt in
  1. The bilge
  2. Some finished woodwork
  3. Your leg
The usual procedure for electrolytically isolating stainless-steel fittings from aluminum spars involves
  1. Applying nonconductive thread-locker liquid to the threads
  2. Smearing both sides with white lithium grease
  3. Sticking a piece of white electrical tape under the part before screwing it down
When cutting plywood outside, the rain will begin
  1. The moment the pieces are cut
  2. In the middle of the job
  3. As soon as you have run the extension cord, clamped down the part, and switched on the jigsaw
The most valuable application of white Krylon is for
  1. Gas grilles, bicycles and outdoor furniture
  2. Models made of metal parts
  3. Anywhere you neglected with Durawhite, Bilgekote, or Awlgrip when it’s time to put the boat in the water
When cutting Plexiglas, the typical experience will involve
  1. A slow, clean cut with the jigsaw
  2. Easily peeling off the protective paper backing
  3. Having the blade get stuck in the middle of the cut when the material melts itself back together and then using hacksaws, grinders or lots of sanding to ultimately finish the part
When cutting G-10, you should use
  1. A brand-new, fine-toothed jigsaw blade
  2. An old blade that is almost ready to be thrown away anyway
  3. Someone else’s blade (and saw)
With the spars out of the boat, the usual procedure for reeving new halyards involves
  1. Carefully ‘sewing’ and whipping the braided messenger line to the new halyard
  2. Tying the messenger line to a paperclip ‘buried’ into the new halyard
  3. Hastily wrapping the messenger line to the new halyard with about half a roll’s worth of electrical tape
The 5200 is usually applied
  1. In assemblies that must hold out seawater and are not likely to be dismantled in the regular course of maintenance
  2. For anything and everything that goes together
  3. All over the cabin sole, your knees, the clipboard, most of the tools and half of the sub sandwich you had intended to finish
The usual disposition of an unfinished tube of 5200 is to
  1. Cap it so it stays airtight and store it in a cool dry place
  2. Stick a machine screw down the nozzle and wrap tape over the end
  3. Leave it where you last used it and expect to throw it away next week after the remaining half has cured in the tube
When painting decks or soles, the usual experience involves
  1. Careful planning so that you can work from a ‘wet edge’ in painting from one end to the other
  2. The occasional oversight requiring that you lean over wet paint to reach neglected dry spots
  3. A completely disorganized nightmare involving spills, runs, blots and numerous opportunities to wear your work home
When the tarp that covers the boat needs to be changed, the wind will pick up
  1. As soon as the new tarp is tied down
  2. As soon as you arrive at the boatyard to do it
  3. As soon as you get the old tarp stuffed into the dumpster and begin spreading the new one over the cabintop
Your primary motivation for doing painstaking work is one of
  1. Interest in the value of your investment
  2. Concern for the durability of the boat for the future
  3. Pride, to demonstrate your superior ideas and craftsmanship
After-work bathing typically entails
  1. A long refreshing shower
  2. A rush to finish and get on to other tasks
  3. Dishwashing liquid, Fast Orange and Scotch-Brite to remove all the paint, 5200, epoxy and resin from your raw skin


Beat the odds

The likelihood of damaging or dislocating a seacock is inversely proportionate to
  1. The cost of the seacock
  2. The importance of the supply line attached to the fitting
  3. The need to replace it
The likelihood of drilling a hole through a spar or bulkhead and breaking into a length of electrical or plumbing conduit is inversely proportionate to
  1. The cost of the conduit
  2. The importance of the hole you’re drilling
  3. The amount of time left before the Travel-Lift comes
The likelihood of tossing a screwdriver up into the boat and damaging something is directly proportionate to
  1. The cost of the screwdriver you toss
  2. The proximity of the object it hits
  3. The amount of work you put into what it hits
An example of an unexpected negative correlation may exist between
  1. The quality of the varnish job and the cost of the foam brushes
  2. The cost of a VHF radio and the time it takes to receive it from the supplier
  3. The time and effort you take to install the paper-towel holder and the importance of the paper-towel holder to the overall project

The costs

The way to really recognize a yacht owner who is performing his own work is by
  1. His smile of sublime satisfaction at the launching banquet
  2. His nearly-empty wallet at the end of the weekend
  3. The 5200 under his fingernails at church
One of the most humiliating things about taking so long to restore your boat is
  1. Your friends’ nagging impatience to go sailing
  2. Paying 12-month dry-storage contracts
  3. Discovering that the state-of-the-art CD stereo system and FireWire computer network you installed 4 years ago have become obsolete before you got to use them
One way to be sure you’ve spent too much money on parts is by
  1. The smiles on the faces of the staff at West Marine
  2. Your wife’s interrogation about the Visa bill
  3. The way the UPS guy, who is not a yachtie, is on a first-name basis with your dog and knows all about the product lines carried by Defender.com
The Bible verse that may best approximate the current status of your restoration project is
  1. Hebrews 11:7 (‘By faith Noah, divinely warned, built this ark to save his family’)
  2. Ezekiel 15:3 (‘Is wood from this tree fit to make anything useful?’)
  3. Luke 14:30 (‘This man began to build, and could not finish’)

Life lessons learned

One thing you’ve found out about yourself that you never expected is that
  1. You’ve learned many new things and gained a priceless experience
  2. You have physical strength and stamina you didn’t know you had
  3. Falling sweat actually splashes
By now you are convinced that marine-toilet plumbing should be
  1. Replaced every three years
  2. Replaced by every new owner
  3. Made of heliarc-welded and polished 3-inch schedule-40 type-316 stainless-steel pipe and never changed at all
One maintenance cycle you did not expect to need to know is that
  1. Bottom paint, no matter how old, should be reapplied within two weeks of launching
  2. Spars should be removed and inspected every three years
  3. The screw threads on jackstands should be oiled annually
When your restoration project is complete, you will know your boat
  1. Better than most yacht owners know their own boats
  2. Enough to trust it in nearly any conditions
  3. More intimately than you know your wife
Your restoration project has taken
  1. More or less the amount of time you expected it would
  2. A season longer than you expected
  3. Several years longer than you expected
The one most likely to perform future major maintenance and repair on your boat is
  1. A trusted yacht-service facility
  2. The next owner
  3. You

When the boat is finished