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.

* * *

Interior developments, 2013

I have not been on this site for some time!  Here are some photos of recent progress as this boat really is coming back together.

 

Anchor-rode lockers

I have long had the idea for relocating anchor rodes farther aft in the hull.  One of the biggest detriments to performance, especially in small boats, is in carrying heavy ground tackle at the pointy end of the boat.  Of course this is where it must be deployed, and from where it must pull; but nothing but some shortsighted concept of 'convenience' says it has to be stored there.  Ancient ships brought their anchor rodes aft to the foremast or even abaft it; but this was only because the ship was sufficiently wide there to allow for a human-powered vertical capstan.  When I designed Starchase (an 84-ft lug-rigged schooner) in 1981-82, I envisioned a whole full-width compartment aft of the foremast in which sails were stowed and through which the anchor rodes were dropped to a deep well under the sole, right in front of the ballast.  This is where such weight should be; but of course it entails the leading of chain aft along the deck, which can be a tripping hazard and much else. 

 

For Diana I had already given over the idea of using the V-berth for a two-person sleeping area.  Its foot is too cramped and the whole space is too hot.  And I had already committed the after outboard corners to plumbing and such for the toilet and holding tank.  Against the forward bulkhead is the toolbox locker (with microwave above, since it's the only place a microwave can fit) to one side and a hanging locker (the only one in the boat) to the other.  So I decided to extend these lockers forward and to make room for the anchor rodes as well. 

   

My first idea was to use common plastic trash cans for the rode bins.  They're cheap (and replaceable) and, if fitted with a plain nylon through-hull, can drain into the bilge or elsewhere.  I bought two trash cans; but after cutting out the V-berth hull shelf I realized they were just not going to fit.  So I concluded the sensible plan was to use the trash cans as trash cans somewhere else and to just drop the rodes into the spaces as they were. 

 

The two bulkheads are show here, each side, before the fitting of the longitudinal bulkhead that will finish them off.  Each side will be fitted with an access plate; but the bulkheads will be removable as well. 

 

This 'glass did not kick off immediately.  I suspect bad MEKP, or just an improperly light quantity of it, as my MEKP dispenser's pickup tube snapped off in the bottle while mixing.  (This happens with MEKP dispensing bottles when they get old.  No matter what it looks like, replace it at least every three to five years.)  These surfaces will be painted in gelcoat later; but for now this is what the work looks like. 

1. Port side 

  
The white stuff is 5200, with which I seal all edges of plywood before 'glassing them to the hull.  Water intrusion along the edges of plywood where they are 'glassed to the hull is the number-one killer of plywood bulkheads-- especially where chainplates are mounted. 
 
(If you think it's sealed against water, think again.  It's a boat.  Water gets everywhere. 

2. Starboard side  

  

Here is the toolbox locker, complete with fiddles to hold the all-plastic (no metal anywhere) Rubbermaid toolbox.  Ahead is the old rode locker, above which the rode deck pipe is removed.  Though I fitted a proper drain pipe in the pointy space, to lead dribbles aft to the through-hull sump, this will be dry.  Some light comes in through the 'eye' windows, where the old hull-mounted running lights were.  (More on that later.) 

 

The battery box fitted with a PVC tube and rolls of wire is my Wire-O-Matic (shop-use wire dispenser, typically made from a box or barrel).  It even has a proper lid (the lid from the battery box)! 

  

The hull-side shelf is cut out for where the plastic trash can was; but now it broadens the space so there is less chance of the rode becoming caught under its edge when running out by deploying an anchor.  

  

  

 Main cabin (aka 'saloon')

During one of the hottest weeks of July I came out to the boat each day at 6.30 AM before leaving at 8.30 for my contract job 50 miles east.  I managed to use up a whole quart of Easypoxy on the bulkheads, which has been a great relief because it's made the boat look closer to done.  
   

  
Nearly all of the brightwork was removed before painting.  The very intricate and delicate doorjamb seemed stuck to the bulkhead with varnish and I would not risk prying it off; so I masked it.  Along the baseboard to port some residual tape can be seen.  The baseboards are actually structural-- they help hold the sole joists down against the hull. 

  

The thermometer and hydrometer are from a cheap 'weather station' I found in the trash.  I dismantled the instruments, cleaned them and painted the shells in matte black.  They work great.  Above them, on the same centers, will go the clock and barometer.  Below them is a bulkhead-mounted compass (mounted in the bulkhead! --imagine).  I consider it vital to have a decent compass visible below, with which one can check courses and at-anchor bearings.  Below below this, above the drop-leaf table, goes a clinometer.
  

The second blue plastic outlet box is for a 12VDC outlet and USB-based chargers.  The stereo goes between the empty box and the (now absent) table.
  

The four-foot-long fluorescent shop light is, of course, temporary. 

  

  

In this view the saloon is being used as a varnish shop.  The large piece on top of the workbench is the top of the 'duffel-bag lockers' outboard of the toilet in the head.  The other plywood piece is the top of the galley bins.  The rest are just various bits of mahogany that go all over this compartment and in the head. 

  

Plugs have been added to the vertical grab posts (at last!).  Typically I varnish the main piece a few times before adding plugs so that the plugs receive a few coats less and so show as a lighter color.  This is just an aesthetic I happen to prefer; and I have always done it this way.  

  

The galley counter is still covered in cardboard.  I have decided to add ceramic tiles to that 3-inch-high bulkhead above the settee. 

  

The small red toolbox is the 'jewelry box', in which I keep all the cool rigging stuff (my favorite parts). 

  

Here too can be seen the side of the speaker box, at the forward edge of the hull shelf, and where I 'glassed the small athwartships bulkhead of it to the hull.  The white-pine stick, old iron C-clamp, and red-handled squeeze clamp (almost hidden from view) are currently holding this shelf up into position.  Like the ones in the V-berth these two did not match each other, sideto side; and this one sagged while the one to port tilted up.  The stick is forcing it up till the 'glass cures.  Hopefully this will remedy some of the problem; but the little mahogany block under the forward end of the shelf (partially painted white, because its proper replacement is undergoing varnishing) will assist in this.

  

Other stuff

Here is a pic I took, on my back, up at the new foredeck hatch with the old hatch, which fit only the original trapezoidal molded-fiberglass opening, on top.  Still waiting on white Sikaflex 295-UV to complete the new one.
  

The terminal blocks are junctions for the spar wiring.  These get screwed to the teak crossmember (now painted white) and enclosed in a cute little mahogany box with sliding door, currently undergoing varnishing.  

   

   
At the other end of the boat, I 'glassed a short bulkhead across the back end of the fuel-tank shelf, tucking it in just ahead of the fiberglass rudder-post tube.  The problem with all skegless rudders is that they are liable to catch something nasty, such as when shooting some dodgy inlet.  In this eventuality, there are two possible outcomes: one, the rudder will break off below the stainless-steel shaft (preferable) or, two, the rudder, tube and all will tear backwards and out of the boat (not good).  If this were to happen, there is little anyone could do to save the boat-- unless that water were able to be confined to a watertight compartment.  ALL rudder tubes should be isolated from the rest of the boat, so that intruding water cannot invade the rest of the hull and overwhelm the bilge pumps.  (We all did learn something from the Titanic; right?)  
  

 

This bulkhead is not high; and it will be fitted with a drain tube as well-- but in the event of a leak at a stricken rudder tube, the drain can be plugged and this compartment will contain much of the water before it is overwhelmed.  This may be enough time to shift weight forward, get something over or into the torn hole(s), or fix or reroute a pump to handle the inundation.  In any case it's far better a solution than that on most other boats-- which is to say it's better than nothing at all. 

 

The little block is just holding the bulkhead in place and gets removed.  In fact I painted this recently and probably should have taken a newer photo.

 

The little step in the foreground was added for climbing down into this locker through the cockpit-seat hatch, which I have done about 350 times since I have owned this boat.  I got tired of leaning over and lying upon the edge of a 3/8" piece of plywood.  Above this is the top of the under-cockpit locker, forward of the fuel tank, which is accessible through the quarter berth and, as of this writing, is now isolated from the rest of the under-cockpit space and its attendant gasoline fumes. 

  

 
* * *

Head compartment

In these photos this is far from being done; but I was just fooling about with the camera and took some photos of the head area to record progress.


This is the head sink, which, as all H25 owners know, the boat did not originally come with.

The stainless-steel basin came from an old Chris-Craft; I bought it on eBay for $19.00.  Its drain goes through the forward bulkhead-- to get out of the foot area-- and then to a trap and down to the drain seacock.

The after portion of this countertop (to the left) lifts up for access to a 4-inch-deep compartment above the foot of the bunk.  The two openings outboard of the sink are for toiletries and towels.  The little mahogany stick on the forward bulkhead, inside the locker, is the cleat for the shelf in there.  The shelf divider is sitting against the hull.

I put the tissue dispenser in there to calculate the space for it; but I certainly won't rely on a cardboard tissue dispenser to be kept in the head, under the large foredeck hatch, aboard a 25-ft boat!

There is no headliner or hullliner in place in this photo.  The trim is not installed here either.

The wiring isn't really this messy-- it's just dangling down from the connections block above this doorway where the spar wiring enters the cabin and the cross-cabin circuits pass by.  When it is connected properly you won't see the danging bits in and out of the lockers.


This Wilcox-Crittenden Head-Mate toilet was given to me by a guy called Bill who was working on his friend's boat in Hancock's Harbor, NJ.  I saw it sitting outside the boat on a Sunday and left a note on it: 'If you are getting rid of this toilet, call me and I'll take it.'  The guy called me as soon as he returned to the boat.  It pumps perfectly well-- they must have been switching to either a larger bowl or just an electric one.  The intake/flush lever is a little rusty; that's all I can find wrong with it.

I had intended to mount my existing 'Frankentoilet' with the crossover sanitation pipe underneath this blue shelf; so the shelf is mounted a little higher than it would otherwise be.  Unfortunately this toilet's pump doesn't mount on the level; it mounts at a slight angle (like a modern Jabsco) on an angled flange on the crossover pipe.  So I can't mount this pump on the shelf, with the crossover pipe underneath, because it won't sit flush.  I have no idea why Wilcox did it like this.  I really wish I were reusing the original Raritan Compact Mk I; but this is similarly 'retro' and works fine-- and best of all the price was right.

The two little openings under the shelf are meant for access to the bolts; and this was supposed to accommodate the crossover pipe underneath so these would allow for cleaning out as well.

Behind the toilet the black ring is a Starboard trim piece around the exit pipe (PVC) leading to the holding tank.

The all-plastic Rubbermaid tool box is actually in its intended place-- this V-berth area has become a true forepeak, having room for only one to sleep but getting equipped with a tool box, workbench, hanging locker, microwave oven, plenty of outlets for charging cordless tools and possibly also a fresh-water supply tank for flushing the toilet. The holding tank is underneath, with most of the plumbing and all but one of the boat's through-hulls.  And that's in only the aftermost 26 inches of it! [wink]

The mahogany in the foreground is the backup to the compression post, underneath where the maststep really is.  It's a piece of the stock I cut for the cabintop handrails, but here it is solid except for only one hand hole (through which the vacuum cleaner's cord is running).  I gauged this hand-hold for someone sitting on the potty and only after installing the stick I realized that the head door's latch has to go at the very same elevation-- so when you reach through it you will stub your fingertips on the edge of the latch plate.  Oh, well.

At the time this was taken the lockers behind the toilet were taken up with the stereo, the outlet strip and the lift-out panels for all the lockers about the boat.

The bronze Barlow selftailing winch (vintage 1977) is a leftover from Warren Luhrs' C44 cutter and served as a doorstop in my mother's bathroom for about 20 years.  It's now slated to be the foredeck-mounted anchor-rode winch for a first-generation Hunter 25 called Diana.  Funny how things turn out!

Here is an 'aerial' shot of this space, minus the toilet, taken from the foredeck hatch opening. 

The door jamb, to the right, was excessively tedious.  It is a T-section and has to fit a very awkward three-sided space and accommodate the natural crookedness of the boat as-is.  It turns out that the face of the head's sink cabinet (side of the port-side berth's footwell) is neither in one plane (it's twisted) nor parallel to really... anything.  Fitting delicate mahogany (the lower portion of that stick is 5/16" square) to a crooked boat is an exercise in near-futility.  But I got it to fit!


The threshold of this doorway is somewhat more robust.  If it appears crooked, it's because the main bulkhead of the boat is not square to the centerline.  Believe it or not that threshold is in the only place it can be to make the (not yet built) door work.

I still have to countersink those screw-holes to fit them with plugs; but I'm keeping it as removable in case something happens with the door later.

The rough plywood sole is only temporary.  The finger-hole, however, will be in the finished mahogany panel.  It's the drain for the space, as there'll be a shower hose here too.


The black square is the pedal for the Whale Gusher foot pump for the head sink.  It feeds from only the port tank, however, despite being likely to be the most-used water source in the boat.

In the foregound (top right of photo) you see the coaming for the foredeck hatch, not yet varnished.

I like the deep-blue/white/black/stainless/mahogany decor theme of this boat.  It's bright, cheerful, nautical and traditional.

* * *

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.

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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.  :)

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.

An argument-ender and a joyous surprise

Here is another funny bit which I hope will support some of the points I have so often attempted to make about the lack of absolutism when it comes to maintaining quality in a boatbuilding enterprise.

Many times a prudent selection of materials or methods can facilitate significant savings to both the builder and customer without sacrificing utility or durability in the product itself.  Intelligent boatbuilders and designers know where 'good enough' is good enough; and I submit that no engineer in a non-boating field, and certainly no wannabe, should stand on ceremony as to ideal technical specifications when the boatbuilder and designer far outrank them in terms of knowledge base, expertise and focused training and experience.

And so, to the positive example.  How many have claimed that marine plywood is the sole material in use on production sailboats?  I have rebuilt the whole interior of Diana without using a single bit of it; in fact my material of choice is lauan cabinetry plywood, well saturated in WEST epoxy and properly finished in paint or sealer and varnish.  None of this is inadequate when properly done .

Having just cut open the forward end of the vee berth to give access to the forwardmost compartment under the bunktop (in another post here), I took the cut-out piece to the bench to sand its edges in order to use it for the lift-out panel.    Turning over the 9-inch square of plywood I made a startling discovery.

(And how on earth did I happen to choose the exact right place to cut out so that I could have this message appear on the back of the panel?)

If you cannot read it in this photo, here is what it says:

'Roseburg' [name of plywood mill]

'Resin Tite' [trade name]

'Hot pressed' [lamination process]

'Exterior glue'

Hah! --the bunktop in this 1974 Hunter 25 is AB-grade exterior fir plywood-- not marine plywood.  This raw-- unpainted, untreated, unfinished-- piece of plywood has survived 37-1/2 years, much of them seeing little maintenance or attention, in a cheap production sailboat used almost exclusively in a saltwater environment on the New Jersey shore.  This very piece came from a closed-in, dead-air compartment with no ventilation which no one has laid eyes or hands on in all that time.  And it shows NO signs of rot, water saturation, mildew, dampness, discoloration or anything.  It's as healthy as would be a piece of plywood stored in your attic.  Simply amazing.

Just so you know.  :)

Naughty, naughty, Hunter Marine!

These two photos clearly indicate the level of quality control at Hunter in the early 1970s.  The one at right is of the lift-out panel for the center compartment under the vee berth.  The one at the bottom is of the after one (under which is the holding tank).  Looking closely you will see my notes in Sharpie pen about how to adapt these for use as templates when I cut out new panels.  Each is easily 1/4" too small for its space.  This matters when the fiddle below it is only 3/4" wide.  A little bending from weight centered upon the 3/8"-plywood panel could easily bow it enough to break it, especially since it is 37 years old.

Also, these panels are much too large to do without reinforcements underneath.  When I make the new ones I will apply white-pine sticks, 3/4" square, to the undersides using epoxy.  Like ultralight-airplane wing ribs, the size won't matter as much as the fact that they're there and adequately secured so as to be structural.

By the way, when I designed interiors at Cherubini I always specified 3/4" plywood for bunktops, especially doubles.  Even so these still require some honeycombing of bulkheads underneath to lend stiffness and strength.  I would consider reducing this thickness and weight to 1/2"  so long as the bulkheads below were well secured, well treated in epoxy and numerous enough to lend the required rigidity.  I would never use 3/8" for a bunktop under any circumstances-- unless those circumstances were that the 3/8" was already installed on my antique boat!

I simply cannot wait to paint this area; but there are lockers and stuff to install here.  This was the space in which I stored raw lumber during the rest of the project and it's only become clear again recently.

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