Love Me Tender, Volume I

As we inch towards better weather, I have been dreaming about the many exciting adventures that I'd like to have with Solitude III in her first sailing season.  Daysailing is great, but this boat is made to go places, to cruise, and to see experience the world from the unique perspective of a small boat.  I can close my eyes and picture gliding into an quiet anchorage in the San Juans, dropping the hook, rowing my tender ashore, and romping about.  Of course, there is one minor issue with this dream.  I don't have a tender.

One could easily question the need for a tender for a boat that is under 15' on deck.  But Solitude III feels like a much larger boat, and beaching her every time it is time to go ashore just seems wrong somehow.  So, despite the nonsense of having dingy that is over half the length of the mothership, I've decided to start construction of an Eastport Nesting Pram.

The Eastport Pram is a John Harris-penned 7'9" rowing and sailing dinghy.  The neat feature about the Nesting version of the Eastport Pram is that you can unbolt the bow, stow it in the stern, and have the whole affair package down into 4'9"x4' rectangle. Not small enough to store aboard Solitude whilst under way, but it should allow me to transport it in her cockpit when headed to the boat ramp. 



From plans plywood will spring great adventures.  This will become a boat.

Although it is available as a kit through Chesapeake Light Craft, I have chosen to build for plans.  It sure would be faster and easier to start with the kits, but after the precedent set on Solitude, I'm not sure if I can seriously contemplate building from a kit again. 

So, here goes...  I have already ordered plans and plywood.  I still have epoxy left over from the PocketShip build, so this should be a good opportunity to use it up.



At Last!

August 31, 2012:  "The companionway hood and dropboard retainers don't have any varnish on them yet, and I don't know what I'm going to do about that...." 

September 1, 2012:  "The boom gallows and the dropboards are now the critical path items.  They'll get some attention tomorrow..."

September 2, 2012: "The dropboards and boom gallows will still be unfinished wood when (if?) they travel to Port Townsend."

September 3, 2012: "I also whipped up some temporary dropboards.  The real, pretty ones will come..."

December 12, 2012: "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..."

February 3, 2012: "I still have to make a set of permanent drop boards.  Actually, the drop boards will be more difficult than I thought.  A search of the shop revealed that I do not have any bits of 1/4" marine plywood remaining that will be large enough to construct the drop boards from.  What to do?"

It has been a long time coming, but I am pleased to report that the construction of a permanent set of drop boards for Solitude III is underway.  I couldn't find any suitable plywood running around the shop and was contemplating desperate action when inspiration struck.  I still have a bunch of cedar strips left over from my Redfish kayak, why not put them to good use.  I could even do a little decorative inlay, rendering Solitude's compass-point logo in sapele and maple.

Construction was pretty straightforward.  I cut a bunch of cedar strips to the right length and glued them together edge-to-edge with wood glue.  Use the temporary boards as patterns for the new ones, trim the sides and cut the curve at the top.  A bit of trick cutting to get the inlay right, and the fiberglass and three coats of epoxy on both sides. 

Just have to sand and varnish and I'll be able to check this project off the list!

Gluing up the cedar strips.

The wood for the inlay

Dry fitting the long bits of the inlay

Fiberglass!

A Flukey Day

The wildlife show started just outside the boat launch.

Solitude III sprang forward as I sheeted in her main and jib, under sail for the first time in months.  I had just spent the last fifteen minutes heading west under power towards Hat Island,  while wrestling with the centerboard, which for unknown reasons had decided to jam itself in the full upright and locked position.  It sure was nice to finally kill the motor and feel the boat be whisked along, accompanied only the sound of the wind in the rigging and the water rushing under the hull.

I passed a favorite hang out of the local sea
lions while motoring out of the harbor. 

Sea lion nap time.

The dark gray clouds all around were illuminated by brilliant sun breaks.  The breeze was fresh, maybe 12kts SSE, and I was nearly on a run.  Solitude ploughed ahead almost gleefully under reefed main.  It turned out to be short lived, however.  I was planning to circumnavigate Hat Island and needed to jibe to get on course.  With the wind the way it was, I decided to do a chicken jibe (I always forget how docilely the boat jibes...).  I put the helm up, brought her around.  I came through and on to the other tack, but instead of tacking off, I stopped.  I jerked the sheets and wiggled the tiller...nothing.  I couldn't believe it.  The wind was gone.  12kts to calm in just a few seconds.  The winds would remain fluky throughout the day.

Under sail!

Not to be deterred, I rolled up the jib, fired up the noisemaker again, and resumed my journey to Hat Island.  I putted along, finally coming under the steep cliffs of the south end of the island.  I skirted up the west side, ans was just nearing the northwest corner when the motor sputtered and died, out of gas after only five miles.  I quickly replenished the 1/4 gallon tank, but before I could start her again, the wind kicked up and I was once again under sail. 

Completing the circumnavigation at that point would have required coming under the lee of Hat Island, something I wasn't about to do now that I had wind in my sails again.  So I held my course, heading towards the south end of Camano Island.  Ahead, I saw a kayak and what appeared to be a large passenger vessel coming more or less straight at me.  

All of a sudden, I heard a loud noise from over my left shoulder.  It was like a spray of water and a rush of air combined.  I spun around but didn't see anything.  And then there was another.  A plume of water rose skyward, maybe 100 yards off my port beam.  Whales!  

Whale ho!

Every year, gray whales migrate between their winter calving grounds in the Gulf of California to their summer feeding grounds in Alaska.  Of the migrating population of around 20,000,  a small group of these whales, about a dozen, break off from the usual migration route and head to a secret hole-in-the-wall feeding location...Possession Sound.  Here, roughly from March to May, they feast on ghost shrimp and other delicacies that appeal to a baleen whale's palette...up to a ton of food a day!

Gray whale spout can reach up to 30' high.

The whale I spotted was headed straight toward Hat Island, so I spun the boat around and headed the same direction.  The whale I saw also wasn't alone.  There were more spouts off, to port and starboard this time.  Three or four whales had me surrounded.   

The whales pulled ahead, and the boat (which turned out to be a whale watching boat) and the kayak joined up with me.  Despite trying to keep a respectful (and legal) distance, the whales (scofflaws if ever there were) would sometimes emerge so close to Solitude that I could smell their atrociously bad breath.  The whales swam down to the southwest corner of the island and then switched into feeding mode, working their way up the west side on the island and then north along the bar between Hat and Camano Islands.





Gray whale flukes

A couple of hours later, it was time to go home.  The tour boat, always on a schedule had left some time before and I had lost sight of the kayak.  The wind had abated some, and I contemplated shaking out the reef.  But, as I came around the west side of Hat Island, the wind started to pick up again.  The wind continued to build and some chop began to develop as I beat southward between Hat and Whidbey Islands.  Solitude III heeled over, settled into her sweet spot, and burst forward into the chop.  The sailing was downright exhilarating.

More spouts

I finally got far enough south to be able to clear Hat Island and settled in close hauled on the port tack, headed for home.  The about halfway across, the wind dropped off again and the seas turned glassy calm.  I had been doing about 4.5 kts close hauled, but now found myself barely managing a knot and a half if I dropped off onto a beam reach.  I decided to call it a day.  I fired up the outboard again, and motored back in.

Link to the HD version on Youtube

Gray skies and gray whales, flukes and fluky winds.  What a day!  This was one of the dreams I had when building this boat...to explore places near and far, and have the kind of adventures that are best enjoyed in a small boat. 

Bad Dreams

I had a bad dream the other night.  In my dream, I went out to my boat, only to find that my recently varnished spars had deteriorated markedly.  The varnish was gone and the wood was graying.  All because the boat was being stored outside under a boat cover.  After waking up, I had to go out and check the boat, just to make sure everything was still intact!

I think that this dream points to a bit of subconscious guilt about storing Solitude III outside under a glorified tarp.  Yes, it keeps the rain off and mostly protects it from the sun.  And yes, it has plenty of ventilation.  But I really wish I could keep my baby under a real roof.  That's not going to happen any time soon, not without building a brand new garage.  Or moving to a house with a suitable garage.  So, for now, I think I'm using the best storage solution.  Which is sad.

The Mystery of the German Anglers

I've mentioned before that behind the scenes at the blog, I am able to see a bunch of statistics about which pages are being looked at, referring URLs, and the like.  In perusing these stats the other day, I noticed a huge...and I mean huge...amount of traffic on one particular post.  As in five times as much traffic over the course of a week as it had previously seen in total! 

What could be going on?  I cross checked against the referring URLs and found that the traffic appeared to be coming from, I kid you not, a German fishing forum, in a thread called "Anglerboot selber bauen?!?", or "Fishing boat, build your own?!?"

Reading through the thread, the situation slowly became clear.  I worked through it non-chronologically and going back and forth with Google Translate but to ease reading, here are the highlights, in chronological order, Google Translated and mildly edited.

It all started innocently enough, with that age-old inquiry:

RKO9:  "Since I do not want to spend that much on a rowing boat for fishing, I had the idea to build a small rowing boat.  Is it worth it and do any of you have experience with this? Maybe one of you has a set of plans?"

Taxidermist:  "Google the terms 'stitch and glue', or 'dory'!" 

That sounds like good advice.

RKO9:  "Thank you for helping me, I will now do it.  I'll now build a Flatboat and when it is ready, I'll post photos."

Wow, that was quick.  The guy Googles stitch and glue and that quick, he's off!  Clearly others thought the same thing...

Taxidermist:  "... Will not you check maybe a few alternatives, and at least become familiar with the design? ...  But first, this is actually not that cheap, at least when the work included in the calculation!  Space and material must be added, not to mention specialized tools!"

After that there was the usual choruses of "good luck" and "I'd like to see the results."  A mere seven hours later, we get a status report:

RKO9:  "The frame is up already, but can not take a picture because my brother like the camera in the work has. (ed: I think Google lost something in the translation there) And taking a good photo with my phone is almost impossible. Picture will follow." 

Clearly there was reason to be perplexed, by the rapid progress...

hein mama:  "If the frames are there already ... I didn't realize that you were already so far."

Forum for German anglers, February 2013

RKO9:  "Thank you, but so far I have not progressed much because of my homework.  (Lecture and memorize poems with 30 stanzas learn) 

 And instructed the mother says only work before pleasure. "  ("instructed the mother"?...more lost-in-Google Translation there)

And now, a mere day after first contemplating the project, we get our first look at his progress:

Solitude III, May 2011

A round of congratulations poured forth:

Scorpian85: "... really cool ..."

zander nose: "Working for 2 days, this looks really quite nifty ... What design are you building? "

volkerma:  "Good clean work! ..."

Franky: "Not bad ..."

No kidding.  It took me months to get that far, and he did it in only two days!  Not only that, but he did it in my garage, thousands of miles from Germany.  With the same wood I did.  Now that's German efficiency!  Proud of his accomplishments, our intrepid boat builder opened up even more and was willing to divulge some insight into the cost and the origin of the design:

RKO9:  "I think my dad has paid 25-35 € for the wood so far.  No plans...only what's in my head."

Not only is the guy efficient, but frugal.  And a savant.  But then, a crack appeared:

Taxidermist: "It looks on the screen as if you've got installed a centerboard trunk! Or am I mistaken?  Is this to be a sailing dinghy?"

And just that quickly, the wheels came flying off:

atibandi:  "That's a fake!! Here is the link to the original builder of the boat:  http://leeboatworkspocketship.blogspot.com/2011/05/its-starting-to-look-boat.html
Just embarrassing!!!!"

Profound shock followed this startling revelation:

Taxidermist:  "Have I not seen correctly, a yawl and steal to boot (ie the image)!"

One6Zero3:  "Hahahaha.  Owned!"

derporto:  "very ungentlemanly! ... it is hard to think of a rational reason why one should waste time and energy, in a fishing forum, listing such a sophisticated fake ..." 

Taxidermist:  "...  Perhaps he is amused about our "stupidity"? ..."

Weird things happen on the web, and I can't say I ever thought that this blog would achieve this kind of international fame.  It is all just a little too out there to believe... Atibandi, you are my new hero.  How you saw through this elaborate deception and found the original owner of that picture, I can't even begin to guess.  Danke.

Perhaps the best summary is expressed in the immortal words of Taxidermist, "Ich habe den Verdacht,dass sich da ein ganz armes Würstchen hinter verbirgt, der einem eigentlich leid tun sollte,"  or, as lost-in-translation by Google, "I suspect that as a very poor sausage hides behind that one should do really sorry!" 

That probably makes more sense in German, but I think we know what he means.

Satiny Spars Shakedown

Varnish is dangerous.  When you undertake a varnishing project, how do you know when to stop?  Three coats is enough.  But, five looks better.  And wouldn't you love to be able to point out the 10 coats of varnish on you boat?  A musing by blogger John Vigor really provide illumination on the dangers of varnish.

I don't know how many total coats of varnish now ensconce Solitude III's spars, but enough.  The final coat was satin-sheen, to help mask the bumps and bruises that are a spar's lot in life.



Reinstalling the spars

Upon declaring varnish victory, it was time to restore the boat to operational status.  The sticks and sails made their way back out to the boat, and about an hour of re-rigging followed.  In the course of things, the fix to the previously sticky tabernacle way tried out for the first time, with much success. 



On the water again

The early winter darkness was approaching fast, but since it wasn't raining and the boat was back together, I couldn't resist dropping her in the water.  The cruise was short.  The wind was actually cooperating, and the plan was to actually use the sails for the first time in many moons, but in the rush to re-rig, I had got the manis'l halyards fouled.  So, the first leg of my shakedown cruise ended after a three minute motor over to Jetty Island, where I tied up to sort out the halyards. 

By the time the halyard situation was resolved, the wind had dropped off, and any remaining cruising was going to have to be under power.  They are currently in the process of dredging the river channel, so I circumnavigated the dredging barge and then, on account of the fading daylight and my lack of navigation lights, I turned back home. 



Dredging Rig



In all, I doubt I was on the water for more than 30 minutes, but 30 minutes on the water is better than nothing.  Hopefully, there will be a confluence of free time and good weather in the tolerably near future that will permit a longer excursion.  Maybe even sailing.



Still a Boat Building Blog After All

Yes, this is still a boat building blog. Since stripping Solitude III of her sticks, I have slowly been making progress on the items that I had...umm...postponed...in the rush to launch.  Once again, I'm sawing wood, mixing epoxy,  slathering on varnish, and yes, SANDING! 

One of the first things I decided to tackle my overly-snug tabernacle.  When I installed my "load reacters", I fit them snugly up against mast-less tabernacle.  Well, turns out I may have fit them a little too snugly, making it a minor battle to raise the mast.  Some work with a saw and chisel helped out with this. 


My new, temporary boom gallows



Re-shaping the "load reacters"

  Another unfinished item that has been driving me crazy forever has been my boom gallows.  The gallows was originally cut out the day of Solitude III's maiden voyage and was raw, unfinished wood at the Wooden Boat Festival.  At some later date I was able to get one coat of epoxy on it, but then...well, that was it.  So, finally, I whipped up a temporary gallows (mainly to hold up the ridge pole for the boat cover), and set to work with the real gallows, including making modifications to mount the stern navigation light, adding more coats of epoxy, and for the first time in months, sanding.  More sanding and a zillion coats of varnish will be coming soon.

Speaking of varnish, the spars now have so many coats on them that you can see your reflection in them.  Ironically, now that they gleam, I am pondering whether to apply a topcoat of satin varnish.  The spars get beat up a lot and a satin sheen will help mask all the minor dings and divots of a spar's life. 

While not explicitly a boat-building project, after the hydrolock incident, I decided it was time to stop fooling around and start storing my outboard in the full upright and locked position.  It only took about five minutes to whip up a wall mount for the little noisemaker...much less than the amount of time that I spent clearing out oil from the cylinder!





So the projects resume.  I still have quite a bit of work I'd like to do on Solitude's interior, and I still have to make a set of permanent drop boards.  Actually, the drop boards will be more difficult than I thought.  A search of the shop revealed that I do not have any bits of 1/4" marine plywood remaining that will be large enough to construct the drop boards from.  What to do?  'Tis a quandary.