Saturday, April 30, 2016

Max and I have accomplished so much this week. We have done the bottom coat, the gel coat, attached the hard dodger, replaced many essential elements of the rigging, and yesterday I refinished the entire cabin sole. I have almost forgotten about my city life, my job, and my darling students who are busily finishing an essay over spring break.

The view from the cockpit with the new hard dodger up is excellent. Unfortunately, it doesn't offer much shelter from the rain, but we can figure that out later.


This is the cabin sole before and after sanding and stain. It's really nice that we can basically match all the different kinds of wood we used for the interior by sanding it all down and rubbing in stain.


Tuesday, April 26, 2016

April Sunshine


Grinders and sanders purr in the mild April sunshine of Hideaway Marina. The metallic stench of anti-fouling paint has taken over. We couldn't be happier. We scraped, sanded, and painted the bottom quickly. (No one needs to spend any extra moments of life engaged in that task.) I repainted the teal strip on our rail, and tomorrow is dedicated to the gel coat. She is looking good.

Monday, April 18, 2016

The Bottom Coat

In the end we used Petit Marine SR60 as our bottom coat. It took two gallons at $250 per gallon. Ouch.

Safety at Sea Course SUNY Maritime

We were lucky enough to take the Safety at Sea course organized by the Storm Trysail Foundation at SUNY Maritime. It was absolutely fantastic. Well organized, useful, extremely educational. We highly recommend this and must thanks Israel Berger for being generous enough to sponsor us. Check out the video for some highlights from our day.

Monday, February 8, 2016

Nesting: How to Rebuild the Interior of a Forgotten Boat


For me it's always hard to imagine sailing during winter. That  the same icy, lifeless marina can be sun-filled and bustling. That there was a time, not too long ago, when I was sanding  fiberglass in the sun, looking down to see my sweating, sun  burnt arms sparkling with glass. In February, the boats are  lined up on jack stands and bedded down under white plastic  shrink wrap with stanchions and spars poking out like bones.  The docks are frozen into the water, and there is not a sound  except for the occasional boom trains carrying fuel over the  Rondout Creek on the elevated, rusted-out railroad bridge. The boat is in a million pieces and in just as many places, a sort of Venn diagram of a project with the gutted hull at the center.

It is perfect weather for nesting, for daydreaming about the interior that will be our cozy, warm, perfectly squared away home for the next year or more. I am happy to say we are well on our way and have already made such a difference. At the end of the workday I clean up and look over the
cabin. Squinting my eyes I can almost see it: the cushions made and in place (my sewing work immaculate), each new drawer or surface varnished and glowing that warm mahogany tone, the Nav station blinking with instruments, and even a hammock of fruit hanging in the newly tiled galley. I have seen Max lost in a similar reverie, though all we say to each other is that we can't wait until it's finished. Later, however, when we are driving in silence, or about to fall asleep, one of us may say, Do you think we should have one or two drawers in the galley? to which the other replies, I've been thinking about that, and I think one.

We didn't know much about the history of Tortuga when we bought her. We have found out more due to the dedication of Bud and the Westsail Association. He seemingly knows everything about each Westsail out there. What we had heard was that the previous owner went mad and returned to Ireland. Seriously. Inside the boat, if this is possible, I could see evidence of his downward spiral in the carpentry. It was really bad, and everything he fixed or replaced, had this Whatever, I'm a bachelor kind of feeling. The nav station was a half-built, roughly cut desk that collapsed most times you touched it and one dinette seat just had a rectangle sawed out. This provided excellent access to storage below, but might be a little rough on the backside of a breakfast eater. The upper starboard bunk had been torn out and cheap plywood installed as a back rest for the lower bunk. Every crevice was filled with a mysterious greasy gunk and, maybe most disheartening of all, there were no cushions and no one, except a crazy man in Ireland apparently, knew where they had been stashed.

So, we set to work. Max and I, but mostly Max, poured over interior sketches of Westsails, and we decided what we wanted it to look like. We would reincarnate the upper starboard bunk and build a navigation station where one could sit and face aft having the instrument panel directly in front. I would rip the linoleum surface out of the galley (it had taken on a sort of uneven, jaundiced color), and replace it with something beautiful. I found a free, almost complete, set of cushions. (again, Bud from the Westsail Association) and will only have to make four more. This list continues, but I think it is most helpful to other sailors to see the way that we were able to cut pieces of wood to the strange dimensions necessary, how we replaced doors and drawers, and got the different pieces of wood to look like they belonged among the originals.

Terry Baldwin in his shop in
 Stanfordville, NY.
One of the great benefits of sailing life in the Hudson Valley is that we have no shortage of master craftsmen. They are always ready to support young, dreamy-eyed sailors and we often call on them for advice, tools, and materials. For the interior we contacted the incomparable Terry Baldwin, and stopped by his incredible shop for a cocktail and a lesson on interior marine carpentry. He taught us the following multi-step process for rebuilding, or finishing, parts of the boat that included the curvature of the hull. I'll have Max write this part, but the general idea is that the spaces within the boat where wood needs to be added may be curved and are not in anyway level.  Through a 3 step process one can make sure to get the shape correct without wasting the expensive wood. Here is how it is done...
Materials:
-1/4” Lauan Plywood                                                       -Staple Gun with ½” staples
-1/2” MDF Board                                                              -Jig Saw
-1/2” Hardwood Plywood                                               -Router
-Assortment of Scrap Plywood                                        -Top Bearing Flush Cut Router Bit
-Compass (drawing tool)                                                 -Small nails or nail gun

Process:
    1.Rip Lauan into 4”, 6”, and 8” wide boards
-          2.Cut board down to approximate length of curved surface you would like to form to.  For deeper curves use wider boards, for sallower curves use thinner boards.
-          3. Hold the board’s edge tight against the curved surface.  The edge should only touch the surface at two points.
-          4. Open the compass so that it’s slightly wider than the largest gap between the curved surface and the inboard edge of the board.  Always hold the compass in either the vertical position 
       or the horizontal position.  Never hold it at an angle.
-         5.  From one end of the board, guide the compass along the curved surface while simultaneously making a mark on the board.  This is called scribing.   The line on the board should resemble the curved surface in section.  Remember to hold the compass vertically or horizontally. 
-        6.   Cut the board along the marked line with a jig saw. 
-         
 Fit the cut board against the curved surface.  If your satisfied with the fit, continue, if not try again with another board.
-          7. With the board fit tight against the curved surface, staple it to 
       a scrap piece of plywood that is approximately 75% the size of the piece you are trying to make.
-         8.  Continue these steps for all edges of the piece you are trying 
      to make.  You should end up with one piece of scrap plywood with multiple pieces of Lauan stapled to it around the edges.  We will call this a stencil. Take the stencil, place it on the MDF board and trace the edge with a pencil. 

9. Cut along the edge with a jig saw.  We will call this piece the template.
10.  Test the template by fitting it against the curved surfaces you scribed from.  The template should fit tight against all surfaces simultaneously.  If your satisfied with the fit, continue, if not try again.
-    11. Tack the template to the hardwood plywood with a nail gun. 
-    12. Adjust the depth of the flush cut router bit so that the ball bearing is guided by the edge of the template
-    13.  Router around all edges of the template.
-    14. Remove the template from the final piece.
-    15. Test the fit of the final piece.  It should fit at least as well as your template. If it doesn't, start over from the beginning.













Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Cabin Heater Blog Post Part 2


After building the prototype (see blog post Max Makes A Heater), and designing the stove on Solid Works, I put in the order with Kammetal for ten, 22 gauge, 304 stainless steel, mill finish stoves with the hope that I wasn’t wasting well over 1000 dollars at a time when the boat could use the money.

The parts were ready a little over a month later.  I rushed over to Kametal excited and nervous to see if the parts I had dreamt up would actually fit together, or if I had just purchased the world’s most expensive pile of scrap metal.  3D modeling may seem like the end-all be-all of product design, but the truth is that it’s a tool, and like any other tool, it requires skill and patients to master.  The best advice I can give is to never assume anything.  Check and recheck everything, buy parts that you plan to incorporate into your design, look at them, feel them, measure them, whatever you have to do to uncover the next problem with your model.  If you can’t find any problems, it means your not looking hard enough.


I assembled the first Kufner Stove on the kitchen table as soon as I got home.  The parts slipped together with such precision, I was jumping up and down.  She had the perfect proportions and looked elegant yet modern with a dull reflective finish that expressed both modesty and reliability, or at least that was my first reaction.  As anyone who has ever built anything knows, after the initial sense of accomplishment, you begin analyzing your creation over and over again for every possible fault.  I can only imagine how many inventors kept their inventions from the world simply because they couldn’t help but fix that one last problem they had discovered.

·       I designed the fan control switch board for a potentiometer.  I had assumed the potentiometer would have enough resistance to completely shut the fan off, but I was wrong.  I eventually tracked down a SPST Rheostat that would do the job and fit nicely into my custom bracket.  A Rheostat is essentially a potentiometer meets rotary switch combo.
·       While I had designed the heater to use standard parts and as few different parts as possible, I hadn’t realized how important the sequence of installation was.  The result is a difficult to assemble product where its easy to skip a step and end up with no access complete it later on.
·       I designed the bracket which supports the burner to long resulting in the burner hanging too low.  The flower pot wasn’t heating up and the heater was under performing.  I eventually had to ask Kametal to make me a new bracket.

·       The propane burner I designed for is a high pressure burner whereas boats typically use a low pressure propane system.  This is a huge problem that I have yet to solve.  The stove still works with a kerosene burner, but most people want propane.  Unfortunately, I think the only solution will be to find a different burner.  This problem was actually discovered by the first person to purchase a Kufner Stove on Ebay.  I am fortunate that he is a really nice guy and has been sending me updates on modifications/installation.


That’s it for now, at least for the problems worth mentioning.  I don’t regret building my stove.  In fact I still think it as beautiful as the first day I saw it.  I’m sure my affection towards it will grow as I tinker with it at sea, or as it keeps us warm in the southern ocean.  I don’t think it will ever be a money maker, but that doesn’t matter.  The Kufner stoves are out there and its because of me.


My stove is not free of faults, in fact it has many, and those that I have discovered have kept me from selling them in any great numbers.  To be fair, Laura and I are busy preparing the circumnavigation of an American continent, which has nudged the Kufner stove to the back burner of my mind.  Regardless, in the interest of full disclosure and the informative nature of this blog, I am prepared to share all the problems I have found no matter how embarrassing they may be.