James Sanders
07-04-2006, 12:11 PM
And thus the work proceeds;
the two tackles hoisting and lowering simultaneously;
both whale and windlass heaving, the heavers singing,
the blubber-room gentlemen coiling, the mates scarfing,
the ship straining, and all hands swearing occasionally,
by way of assuaging the general friction. âHerman Melville
Ahoy,
Somehow I keep thinking of Johnny Horton's song about the famous German battleship, Bismark.
"Hit those decks a runn'n, boys
and turn those guns around"
I'm not sure about turning the guns around, but I am sure about hitting the decks, running. We needed to seal the decks with epoxy before our summer rains hit, and I am pleased to announce: Success!
The decks, however, still look a mess, but at least, now there is some semblance of protection. This next photo is of starboard. The mooring bitt asked if he could be in the picture even though the topic is now about decks, planking, and things like thatâ
"What's the white substance?" you ask. Well, those are microballoons; everyone needs to work with microballoons. Indeed, when we first started working with epoxy, Bill Olney unabashedly asked me, "Do you have microballoons? You know you need to have microballoons." Well, as you can see I have microballoons, but what I did with them was really stupid.
Das ist dach dumb!
I thought I could save time by thickening the epoxy a bit and apply the soup like substance both as a sealer and a filler. That's not a good idea. Oh yes, it works, but not very well. At least, though, I did get a chance to see what a white deck might look like on our boat.
For contrast and balance, here is the port deck. (You need to keep a balance on a boat, you know. It's almost a violation of nautical principle to talk about starboard and never mention port.) At any rate, here is the port deck with the mooring bitt once again. (That bitt is really a ham, always muscling his way into the picture.)
Walking the plank
Now, I need to tell you that both Paul Riccelli and Barry Pyeatt are both cautioning me privately about going with a wooden deck. They would say it in public, but would rather not have me looking uninformed and perhaps lacking in nautical acumen. I appreciate their concerns, especially the concerns about weight, about high temperatures, and about maintenance.
Our boat will be exposed to the elements, not sheltered in a boatshed or garage somewhere, and the Arizona sun is intenseâ very, very intense.
What that means is that the more brightwork we have, the more work we do in bright sunlight.
The laying out of the deck and cutting the planks to fit would be a most welcome challenge. Capsizing with Miss Pat aboard, however, would not be a welcome challenge in the least. Yet, still the notion of having wooden planking for a deck is a captivating notion. The famous Friendship Sloop Dictator has such a deckâ
But there's something almost wrong with this picture. The boat is certainly beautiful, but there is a lot of wood on the exterior. As a 31 footer, the Dictator is larger than the boat we are building with a much wider beam as well. Indeed, the Dictator boasts a 11 foot beam. (Our beam is a puny 8 feet, and that's part of the problemâ we need to make some changes in design for the balance to work.) For our taste, there may be almost too much wood here. Miss Pat just corrected my lack of good taste, telling me that the Dictator is well balanced and quite striking. I think she is telling me that we need to finish our boat by making it look as much as we can like the Dictator.
On the other hand, the Friendship Sloop Amie, docked at the Center for Wooden Boats in Seattle, has almost no wood. The deck is white with just a hint of trim here and there. This Friendship Sloop is much closer in size to ours. The look, of course, is still salty, but it is a far different look. For our taste, there may not be enough wood here, but the look is clean. shipshape, and tidy.
What are we going to do? Maybe there is someway to hit a happy medium, and that's exactly what we are thinking about at the moment. Barry Pyeatt keeps talking about Spantex, and Paul Riccelli keeps talking about mock canvas decks with kingplanks.
I'm not sure what we're going to do yet, but I do like the idea of some white and some wood. It's all a matter of finding the right proportion, of achieving the right balance so that a small boat such as ours does not end up looking gaudy, or unbalanced. You might say that it's a lot like eating mash potatoes and gravy. You need a balance of both. Too much gravy, and it's on your shirt. Too little potatoes, and why bother to eat at all?
(If I'm not mistaken, the deck on the Dictator looks like brightwork. Is that varnish I see? That reminds me of the words of another song, Slipp'n and slide'n . . .)
the two tackles hoisting and lowering simultaneously;
both whale and windlass heaving, the heavers singing,
the blubber-room gentlemen coiling, the mates scarfing,
the ship straining, and all hands swearing occasionally,
by way of assuaging the general friction. âHerman Melville
Ahoy,
Somehow I keep thinking of Johnny Horton's song about the famous German battleship, Bismark.
"Hit those decks a runn'n, boys
and turn those guns around"
I'm not sure about turning the guns around, but I am sure about hitting the decks, running. We needed to seal the decks with epoxy before our summer rains hit, and I am pleased to announce: Success!
The decks, however, still look a mess, but at least, now there is some semblance of protection. This next photo is of starboard. The mooring bitt asked if he could be in the picture even though the topic is now about decks, planking, and things like thatâ
"What's the white substance?" you ask. Well, those are microballoons; everyone needs to work with microballoons. Indeed, when we first started working with epoxy, Bill Olney unabashedly asked me, "Do you have microballoons? You know you need to have microballoons." Well, as you can see I have microballoons, but what I did with them was really stupid.
Das ist dach dumb!
I thought I could save time by thickening the epoxy a bit and apply the soup like substance both as a sealer and a filler. That's not a good idea. Oh yes, it works, but not very well. At least, though, I did get a chance to see what a white deck might look like on our boat.
For contrast and balance, here is the port deck. (You need to keep a balance on a boat, you know. It's almost a violation of nautical principle to talk about starboard and never mention port.) At any rate, here is the port deck with the mooring bitt once again. (That bitt is really a ham, always muscling his way into the picture.)
Walking the plank
Now, I need to tell you that both Paul Riccelli and Barry Pyeatt are both cautioning me privately about going with a wooden deck. They would say it in public, but would rather not have me looking uninformed and perhaps lacking in nautical acumen. I appreciate their concerns, especially the concerns about weight, about high temperatures, and about maintenance.
Our boat will be exposed to the elements, not sheltered in a boatshed or garage somewhere, and the Arizona sun is intenseâ very, very intense.
What that means is that the more brightwork we have, the more work we do in bright sunlight.
The laying out of the deck and cutting the planks to fit would be a most welcome challenge. Capsizing with Miss Pat aboard, however, would not be a welcome challenge in the least. Yet, still the notion of having wooden planking for a deck is a captivating notion. The famous Friendship Sloop Dictator has such a deckâ
But there's something almost wrong with this picture. The boat is certainly beautiful, but there is a lot of wood on the exterior. As a 31 footer, the Dictator is larger than the boat we are building with a much wider beam as well. Indeed, the Dictator boasts a 11 foot beam. (Our beam is a puny 8 feet, and that's part of the problemâ we need to make some changes in design for the balance to work.) For our taste, there may be almost too much wood here. Miss Pat just corrected my lack of good taste, telling me that the Dictator is well balanced and quite striking. I think she is telling me that we need to finish our boat by making it look as much as we can like the Dictator.
On the other hand, the Friendship Sloop Amie, docked at the Center for Wooden Boats in Seattle, has almost no wood. The deck is white with just a hint of trim here and there. This Friendship Sloop is much closer in size to ours. The look, of course, is still salty, but it is a far different look. For our taste, there may not be enough wood here, but the look is clean. shipshape, and tidy.
What are we going to do? Maybe there is someway to hit a happy medium, and that's exactly what we are thinking about at the moment. Barry Pyeatt keeps talking about Spantex, and Paul Riccelli keeps talking about mock canvas decks with kingplanks.
I'm not sure what we're going to do yet, but I do like the idea of some white and some wood. It's all a matter of finding the right proportion, of achieving the right balance so that a small boat such as ours does not end up looking gaudy, or unbalanced. You might say that it's a lot like eating mash potatoes and gravy. You need a balance of both. Too much gravy, and it's on your shirt. Too little potatoes, and why bother to eat at all?
(If I'm not mistaken, the deck on the Dictator looks like brightwork. Is that varnish I see? That reminds me of the words of another song, Slipp'n and slide'n . . .)