It Really Wasn't a Nice Day, Really

The other day I as at the local waterfront coffee shop.  It was a typical NW winter day.  Cool, gray, rainy.  No wind to speak of.  I overheard the guy in front of me say that he was about to meet his friends to go sailing.  I have to admit, my soul stirred...sailing, yes, sailing.  But then I looked at look at the weather.  It wasn't a nice day, it really wasn't.  This guy had to be nuts.  Sailing? In the rain?  With no wind?  But, still....mmm...sailing.  I couldn't help but wonder if maybe I am a wimp after all.

In other news, things are happening in the shop again!  I have done some touchup epoxy work and have started applying more coats of varnish to the spars.  I also got the outboard running again.  When the weather gets nicer or I become less wimpy, I may have a properly finished boat ready and waiting.

Failure to Launch

Sun, wind, weekend.  The boat cover came off and the sails were bent on.  The boat even made it into the water.  This should have been a sailing story.  But it was not to be.

It was a cold, cold day.  I arrived at the boat launch, paid my fees, and set about raising the mast.  Solitude III's tabernacle has always been a fairly tight fit, but with the added cold no reasonable amount of force could get the bottom of the mast to seat all the way into the tabernacle.  I pushed, shoved, kicked and pulled.  Nothing doing.

So, I gave up. Well, all was not lost. I could still drop the boat in the water and have a motorboat adventure. Except the motor wouldn't start..the starter cord would pull through. No reasonable amount of force could get the motor to turn over. As best as I can figure, despite being laid down on the proper side, some oil had made it's way into the cylinder and gave it a bad case of hydrolock.
 


It was so cold, there were icicles on the rubrails

I once went to a kayaking class where one guy said he had a three strike rule.  If any three things went wrong on the way to a kayaking trip...malfunctions, forgotten items, weather...he'd turn around and go home the trip.  I only had two strikes, but since they were propulsion-related, I decided to call it off.

Sparless in Seattle

I loaded up the boat and took her home.  When I got home, I took a deep breath and decided that the time had finally come to start working on my winter to-do list.  So, I stripped her of her sails and spars and prepared to start a varnish-a-thon.  We're in the middle of a cold snap right now, so the varnish hasn't started flowing yet.

I also pulled the spark plug on the motor, and eventually was able to get the oil cleaned out from the cylinder, so that is good news.

On the bright side, after all this nonsense, I happened to have a crockpot full of jambalaya waiting for me in the kitchen.  Back into construction mode!

Fern

There are three questions that I am asked most when I'm out and about with Solitude.

1. Did you build that?
2. How long did it take? 
3. Is that the first boat you've built? --or-- How many boats have you built?

 

Name on my first boat, Fern

Readers of this blog know the answer to Questions 1 and 2. As for Question 3, Solitude is the fourth (and a half, if you count the cradle boat) boat I've built. Boats 2 and 3 where a Redfish cedar strip kayak and Pygmy Opsrey double kayak. My first boat was a small rowboat that I designed and built over the course of a lazy grad-school summer.

I had not set out to build a boat that summer. I had just taken a really class in Computation Fluid Dynamics, and I decided to apply my learnings from that class to write a simple 3D grid generator and inviscid solver. What a way to spend a summer...

  

I actually started writing the grid generator and was getting some good results. But the weather was getting nicer and nicer, and I felt an itch to be doing things outdoors. At the time, I lived about 1/2 mile from the boat launch at Magnusson Park. I thought, gosh, if I only had a small boat, something that I could transport down to the water and just float around on a nice day. I could build a boat!

  

In a confluence of events, earlier that year, I had been doing a lot of reading about the War of 1812, and that lead me to some books by Howard Chapelle, which lead to to Chapelle's Yacht Designing and Planning. Also, the Aero department's wood shop was under-utilized. I had the motive and the means. Time to get started.

Despite having read through Yacht Designing and Planning and a few other yacht design books, I really approached the design like an engineer. The design brief was something along these lines: A small row boat capable of carrying two people plus one medium dog, light enough for one person to carry, short enough to be build out of 8' long sheets of plywood. Don't ask how I came up with two people and a dog. Anyway, that was the mission to which the boat was point-designed.



The strongback/mold, with fairing strips



The next step was to draw up some plans. Being summertime, TA office was largely deserted, so I cleared out a large workspace amongst the desks. I didn't have a good feel for the correct dimensions for things, so, using assorted scraps of paper, cardboard, and whatever other office supplies I could scavenge, I started working on a mockup. I'd iterate between figuring out "ergonomic" assessments on the mockup, doing displacement calculations on the computer. After a couple of hours, I finally converged on something that I figured would work. I spent another day working up a lines drawing and drawings of each station.

  

That weekend, I went to the lumber store, and bought a bunch of materials with which to build a mold/strongback, mahogany timber for the frames and epoxy, bronze fasteners, and Gorilla glue to hold stuff together. Marine plywood for the sides came later.



Bending the gunwhales and chine into place



I figured the best thing to do was to build the boat upside-down on a mold. I'd build a keel and a traditional frame, and then sheath it in plywood. Beyond that, construction was a learning process. I hadn't really internalized any of the information I had read in any of the boat books I had read. Fancy structural element like knees, floors, keelsons, and rabbeted keels were unknown to me. For the most part, I was making it up as I went. I'd drive screws and nails in non-traditional places and if I lacked something to drive a fastener into, I'd invent whatever structure I decided was required.

I did pick up a few tricks from Brad, a fellow student who would occasionally drop by. He had built a boat with his dad many moons before, and shared some skills with me. For example. my first attempt and bending the gunwhales into place resulted in a broken gunwhale. For Round 2, Brad dropped by and gave me the idea of soaking them in water as I went to help them take the shape....a trick I'd use some time later on some of the more stubborn parts of Solitude.

Boat bones

Slowly, but surely, the boat took shape over the course of the summer. Soon the frame was complete, and to my delight it could even bee removed from the mold and not collapse on itself. Plywood sheathing came next. I cut some patterns, then cut the real things, did lots of dry fitting and final adjustments and then nailed everything down with bronze boat nails. At this point, the boat was in pretty good shape structurally, but certainly not watertight. So I mixed up some epoxy, thickened it, and proceeded to fill all of the seems with the stuff. I also added some lightweight fiberglass tape to the outsides of the seems. Looking back on it, I think I was on the verge of "inventing" stitch 'n glue!



I built my own oars too!





Sheathing the hull




  



Solitude III was not my first red boat!



A bunch of sanding came next. I did not coat the boat in unthickened epoxy as I would now. A the time, I didn't even know you could or would do such a thing! Instead, I applied a couple of coats of red paint and did the brightwork with a gloss furniture polyurethane (varnish, what is that????). I even painted her name, Fern, on the transom.

Bouyancy tests

At this point, I found myself in a quandary...I really wasn't sure of the best placement for the seat (or seats). What to do? Why, launch the boat and use a bunch of fellow grad students to figure it out experimentally. of course. So, that's what happened. The boat floated and the experiments worked, but things naturally erupted into mild chaos and tremendous fun, culminating in nearly losing both the both the boat and a fellow Fluids Labber out to sea.

I eventually installed the seats and hardware and finished the boat. I even used her a couple of times. She could carry quite a load, but had too little freeboard for comfort. She pulled easily and tracked horribly She was a little heavy to move around, but could be moved by one person...I'd say the difficultly in getting her to the water limited my use of her more than any other factor. 



The finished Fern



Like any wooden boat, Fern is a beautiful object, but she really isn't a good looking boat. Looking back on the design with more developed sensibilities, I would have given the design more shear, more freeboard, and moved the max half-breadth forward. Way forward. The biggest flaw in the design is that the max half-breadth is at the transom. No kidding.

  

Every now and then, I look and Fern's hull and contemplate its future. Sometimes I think about wrestling her onto the top of the car and using her, but generally cooler heads prevail and a more useful boat, like a kayak, gets a trip to the water instead. Sometimes, I dream about doing some major modifications to address her shortcomings. I can't get over the idea that I could add a deck, daggerboard and positive floatation, pull the rig off of a Laser, and have a pretty decent sailing dinghy. Actually, she'd probably be able to plane! But that's all a lot of work, and it changes the first boat I ever built into something other than what I designed her to be. So, for now, she sits in the garage, gathering dust.



This picture makes me want to take her out on the water again!







Under Wraps

In a final acknowledgement of seasonal defeat, I finally got Solitude III tucked in for winter.  I struck the sails and pulled a cheap boat cover over her.  In the coming weeks (or months), I am planning to strip her of her spars, add a couple of coats of varnish to them, and finish the long-delayed drop boards, gallows and companionway hatch.

Merry Christmas!

What Brings You Here?

One of the behind-the-scenes things that I have access to on this blog are some statistics about how many visitors I’ve had, which entries have been viewed the most, common search terms and referring URLs. Pretty neat stuff.

Most folks stumble onto this blog either via pocketship.net or Google. I really enjoy looking at the search terms that lead folks here. For the most part, the terms “PocketShip, “Pocket Ship,” and “Jon PocketShip ” are the avenues for people finding this blog. There have been a few folks who dropped by here looking for information about working with epoxy in cold weather or building a wooden mast. There have been some other queries that seem rather off topic, for example:

• "is preparation a good thing?" -> Preparation. It’s a Good Thing
• "christmas crafts using tiller paper rolls" -> Happy Rails to You, Un-Tiller We Meet Again
• "lady washington sailing" -> ...A Tall Ship

Glad I could help. 

The most viewed entry is, and has been for some time, “Re-Energized.” This entry’s enduring popularity. is puzzling to me. In looking back over the blog, I can pick out several entries that were better written (Lagging, Sole Man), more informative (Deck the Boat, Waiting for Epoxy), or more entertaining (Transform and Roll Out, Boatsanding Blues). I guess I don’t see what it is in that entry that others see. If anybody has any thoughts, please share them with me!

This all got me thinking about “audience.” I have been far from consistent in who I have considered my target audience in the various blog posts. Sometimes, I’ve targeted people who are actually building a PocketShip, assuming detailed knowledge of the design (e.g. what bulkhead #7 looks like). Other times, I’ve target more general interest boat building types. Sometimes, I’ve pontificated more on the human experience of building and sailing this boat. I guess the bottom line is that I really have been writing this for myself, and whatever mood I’ve been in at the time has dictated how I’ve approached writing a given entry.

But that’s not the point. What I what to know is, “why are you here?” What brought you to this blog, what information where you hoping to find, what would you like to hear more about??? Anybody want to share?

Food for Thought

Blogs and food.  Seems to be a marriage made in cyberspace heaven.   I often wonder how many blogs have at least one entry sharing recipes.  Ninety percent, perhaps?  Sure, there are dedicated recipe blogs.  And then there are cross over blogs, with topics like “recipes for parents,” “recipes from my travels,” “recipes for busy people,” and “recipes for graduate students (100 ways to serve ramen)”.  But even blogs where the theme and thesis are not food related have recipes on them.  Over the last year, I’ve seen recipe posts on at least four of my favorite sailing blogs on ThreeSheetsNW.  I even found a blog dedicated to cooking while cruising.   Since the weather right now generally precludes sailing, and my general post-partum boatbuilding malaise is persisting, maybe it is time I take the plunge into the overcrowded world of food blogging.

The theme of this blog is building and sailing my CLC PocketShip, Solitude III.   On the surface, that has nothing to do with food.  But, having spent the last two years building this boat, including many long all-day sessions of weekends, I have come to know the role that food plays in boatbuilding.  An empty stomach reduces patience and judgement.  Most of the flaws in my boat are the direct result of working on an empty stomach.

Of course, when you are boatbuilding, you want to spend your time building the boat!  So, fast, easy to prepare meals are a plus.  And since most building seems to occur in the winter months, hot, hearty food is desirable.    And since you are putting in a long, long day, what you really want is the food to be ready the moment you come in from the shop.  What means best accomplishes these ends?   No, the word I’m looking for is not “wife.”   Boatbuilders can cook too.  I’m thinking “crockpot!”

Here are some of my favorite recipes for boat building days:

Viscous Veggilicous Chili
This is based on a recipe I found in the local newpaper.  I've seen it printed in several other online "newpapers" since.

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 onions, chopped
• 1 jalapeño, chopped
• 3 1/2 cups butternut squash, cut into 2-inch pieces
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 can cannellini beans, drained, rinsed
• 2 cans black beans, drained, rinsed
• 2 cups broth or water
• 1 can tomatoes with green chilies
• 2 large poblano chilies, roasted, diced
• 2 teaspoons cumin
• 1 teaspoon oregano
• 1 tablespoon chili powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• Freshly ground pepper
• 6 leaves kale, sliced in ribbons
• 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
• Fresh cilantro, chopped

1. Put the onions, jalapeños, garlic, squash, broth, beans, tomatoes, poblanos,and spice in the crock pot.  Cook on low 8-10 hours.  --OR-- If you want to do this on the stovetop, heat olive oil in a heavy, deep pot. Add onions and jalapeño; cook until softened. Add squash; cook until barely starting to soften, 8 minutes. Add garlic; cook 1 minute. Add beans, broth, tomatoes, poblanos, cumin, oregano, chili powder, salt and pepper to taste.  Cook over low heat until squash is tender and flavors start to come together.
2.  When you come in from the boatshop, and are ready to eat, add the greens and lime juice; cook until greens are wilted. Adjust seasoning; stir in fresh cilantro.

Adapted from Epicurious.com.



The Ragin' Cajun's Jambalaya

The original recipe was given to me by a coworker, based on his grandmother's recipe.  I've since tweaked it to "perfect it" to my tastes.

• 2 onions, chopped
• 2-3 stalks of celery, chopped=
• 2 bell peppers, any color, chopped
• 2 chicken breasts
• 1 can diced tomatoes with chilies (a.k.a. Rotel tomatoes)
• 1-2lb sausage in casing.  Andoulle, if possible.  I've also used chicken sausage or Louisiana Hot Links to great success.
• 1 cup rice.  I like to use a blend of wild rices available at Costco.  You definitely don't want to you white rice, because it'll turn into a giant mushy mess after 8 hours of cooking.
• Salt, Pepper, Cajun seasoning

1. Put the chicken breasts in a pot of boiling water and boil until done.  Pull it out and let it cool. Reserve about 2 cups of the water.
2. Once the chicken is cool, take two forks and shred it.  Season with salt, pepper, and cajun seasoning
3. While the chicken is cooking and cooling, chop your veggies and sausages.  I like to slice the sausages on a bias, creating long, thin, ovoid, bite-size bits.
4. Dump all the ingredients, including the 2 cups of water you reserved into the crock pot.  Cook on low for 8 hours while you go work on your boat! 

 

 

Lee Boatworks Beef Stew

• 2 lbs stew beef or beef chuck, cut into bite size pieces
• 1 tsp Worchestershire sauce
• 1 1/2 cups of beef broth
• 1/2 cup flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp pepper
• 1 tsp paprika
• 1 clove of garlic
• 3 carrots, chopped
• 2 ribs of celery, chopped
• 2 onions, chopped
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tsp fresh thyme

 

The amounts on the veggies are approximate.  I shoot for 2 lbs of meat and then fill the rest of the crock pot with veggies.  If I'm feeling crazy, I may also add in cauliflower, mushrooms, whatever!

1. Put the flour, salt, pepper, and paprika into the crock pot.
2. Drop meat into the crock pot and mix around with your hands, covering it in the flour mixture.
3. Add the rest of the ingredients, except for the thyme.
4. Cook on low for 8 hours while you work on the boat.
5. Mix in the thyme, and eat!
 

Close Enough

Vitamin D is important.  Indeed, WebMD says that "[r]esearch suggests that vitamin D could play a role in the prevention and treatment of a number of different conditions, including type1 and type 2 diabetes, hypertension, glucose intolerance, and multiple sclerosis."  Vitamin D deficiencies are  a serious health issue, particularly in the Pacific Northwest, where high latitudes and gray skies conspire to limit exposure to an essential source of Vitamin D, the sun.  Symptoms of Vitamin D deficiencies include a weaker immune system, fatigue, depression, and cognitive impairment.

Let's talk about cognitive impairment for a second.  Anybody who has lived in the Pacific Northwest knows not to trust the weatherman.  And yet, in spite of all experience, all knowledge, all reason, after a solid month of rain, when the weatherman predicts a day or two of sunshine with 10-15kts of wind, a person suffering from the cognitive impairment of a Vitamin D deficiency will choose to believe it and decide to go sailing.



At the guest dock.

'Twas a cold, cold morning, just a touch above freezing.  The sky was clear and the air was still.  According to the forecast, some fog would be rolling in for about and hour and the wind would kick up to about 10kts in short order.  I motored down from the boat launch to the guest dock at the south end of the marina.  There is a little coffee shop there, Meyers Cafe, and there I ate a leisurely breakfast, waiting for the fog to roll and and roll out again.

After a lingering over a vegetarian quiche and hot mocha, I began to doubt the whole fog thing.  It was not any warmer outside yet, but the sun was definitely in the sky and there was no sign of impending water vapor doom.  The wind still had not bothered to make itself felt, and honestly, in the back of my head, I knew that despite the forecast, it wasn't going to start gusting anytime soon.  Still a sunny day out on the water in November is not something to be turned down, even if it means cruising around under power.  So I hopped into Solitude, putted over to the fuel dock to top up my 1 1/4 gallon gas can, and pointed her nose toward the saltwater, full steam ahead.

What a great decision!  The sun was out in its full glory as Solitude chugged over the glassy waters of the Sound.  Guilt over having my sails furled was assuaged by the peacefulness of it all.  Blue skies and blue waters, mixed with occasional white wisps of clouds and with the golden browns of late fall highlighting the shore.


After leaving the Snohomish River, I pointed Solitude's nose NW.  About an hour and a 1/4 gallon of gas later, I was found myself just off of the north end of Hat Island.  I had considered simply circumnavigating tiny Hat Island, but  decided that there was not reason not to keep going.  A quick look at the map assured me that I could reach the town of Langley on Whidbey Island, run ashore, grab a bite to eat, and still make it back to the boat ramp before sunset (an important consideration, seeing as how I still haven't wired my nav lights).  So, onwards!

The Langley boat basin.

Langley is a cute-as-a-button little town.  They get their fare share of tourists and have a good compliment of restaurants, coffee shops, and bed-and-breakfasts.  I pulled into the densely packed harbor and upon consulting with the harbormaster, slid into a slip in the center of the tiny boat basin.  I trotted ashore and up into "downtown" Langley, in search of the perfect meal.  I ended up at the Useless Bay Coffee Company (Useless Bay is a bay just on the other side of the island), where I purchased a perfect-for-a-chilly-day bowl of pulled pork chili.  It was delicious!

I would have liked to stay longer and explore the town some more, but it was time to get back to the boat in order to get home before sundown.  Langley will definitely be the destination of a summertime overnight cruise in the future.




South end of Camano Island

South end of Hat Island.  Hat Island is also named
Gedney Island, but nobody calls it that. 

I steamed back, this time via the south side of Hat Island.  As the shadows grew long, I pulled back into the Snohomish River and was tied up at the boat launch just as the sun hit the horizon.  As I was getting Solitude ready for the trailer, a liveaboard from a trawler over in the yacht basin walked over, wanting to know more about my little boat.  Would have liked to talked more, but I had to get Solitude buttoned up and home before it got too late. 

What a great day.  Yes, it would have been nice to sail, but you take what you can get this time of year.  And what I got was awesome!