With the sails complete, I headed back to ALETHEIA with my fingers crossed, hoping the sails would fit the spars and constraints onboard.

Bending them on was fairly straightforward, but since it was done on a slightly-windier-than-advisable day I was not able to take detailed photos of the process. Fortunately Susie and Stan Marshall, boat neighbors across the dock from me, were out and Susie took some great shots as the sails went up. So at least you can see part of the process.

Since completing the dodger I also had to make the booms and yards for the sails. These spars are effectively long wooden poles, with some custom shaping, to which the sail is tied. The yard is at the top of the sail, the boom is at the bottom. For those of you not familiar with nautical terminology, you may have heard the phrase in a movie about tall ships: “Haul the Yards!” and the process of hoisting the sail by heaving on lines which lift these yards is precisely what they are talking about. From this longer phrase comes the term “halyard” which is nowadays used to refer to the line which hoists the sail.

Making the Yard and Boom

The yard and boom both started out as Douglas-Fir lumber which I obtained from a local building supply company:


I first glued them to the appropriate thickness using standard Titebond III waterproof wood glue:


Then shaped them to size and finished the edges with a circular saw and router:


After an epoxy coat and some white paint, I added attachment points (click to enlarge):




And painted the ends red for a jaunty appearance (click to enlarge):


The Battens

The yard and the boom are two of the main pieces which help the Chinese lug sail hold it’s unique fan shape, but there are also the very important “ribs” in the middle of the fan - these parts are called battens and are also commonly made of wood or bamboo. In my case, I’m making them using a slightly experimental technique (although demonstrated to work by some very well known designers and sailors already - I’m not jumping out on a complete limb here). My battens will be made of PVC pipe, which of itself is too flexible and not stiff, but is perfectly strong. To stiffen it, I’m inserting a wooden core for a part of the length of the pipe, making it stiffer where it needs to be and allowing flexibility in the front, also where it is desirable. The hope is that this combination of flexible stiffness will make for a batten which holds better shape and allowing the sail to develop proper shape more readily.

Like the yards and booms, the wooden batten cores (there are 11 of them, plus 2 spares) started out life as Douglas-Fir lumber.


Painted white for protection from water:


Inserted into a forest of PVC pipes:


And finally I melted and sanded the pipe ends so that they would have the least chance of chafing the sail:


Prepping the masts

Before I could hang anything off the masts, though, I needed to do a few final bits of preparation. When I installed the masts on the boat, I put them up with a single halyard and planned to climb the masts later for both inspection and to install the remaining halyards, lazyjacks, and other miscellaneous lines necessary for the sails. I also did NOT realize that the masts were far too rough for sliding sails up and down and would need to be sanded further. So up I went, with a sander in my hand, for two hours of grueling, unpleasant, dusty sanding in full respirator and eye protection in the face of a 15 knot breeze. This was my least favorite part of the job short of fiberglass grinding. It didn’t itch as bad afterwards but it was certainly miserable during the process. I am not sure anybody else in the history of sailing has had to climb their mast and top-down sand the entire thing in complete circumference, then climb the foremast and do it all over again. Lesson learned.

The next day I climbed the masts again, this time to install all of the other halyards and lines I had hoped to do the first time.



In short I added, for each mast:

• Main Halyard on a 3:1 purchase.


• Jib or Staysail Halyard, single part.


• Two running backstays, one per side.


• Two “topping lifts” or lazyjacks, one per side.


• One mast lift.

I may or may not add a dedicated flag halyard as well, later on.

Bending on the sails

The basic process of attaching the sails to the masts so that they become functional is called “bending on”. The sail is taken to the mast, along with it’s yard, boom, and battens. For a sail of the size which I was working, I first hung the boom in the lazyjacks, set the yard on top of it, and attached the halyard. Hanging the sail took several further steps:

1. The sail was hung from the halyard by tying the nock (or throat) and the peak to the yard. These are the two corners of the sail on the top. Then all along the length of the yard, the sail is tied every foot or so to hold it close to the yard. After that’s done, a strip of wood is screwed to the inside of the yard to help reduce damage from banging into the mast.


2. The sail was then hoisted until the first batten pocket was visible. The batten was inserted into the pocket, a sleeve of firehose was added to the batten to protect it from the mast, and the batten was firmly lashed to the luff of the sail (that’s the front edge, for you landlubbers).


3. Then, to hold the batten in roughly the right spot, a bit of line called a parrel is tied between the forward end of the batten, around the mast, and back onto the batten a ways back from the mast. This bit of line holds the batten snug to the mast and transfers the force of the sail to the mast, and thus to the boat.


4. With the batten and parrel properly in place, the sail is hoisted to the next batten pocket and the preceding two steps are repeated until the last batten is installed.


5. Finally, the sail is lashed to the boom in a similar fashion as it was to the yard.

But that’s not all! The sail should now hang roughly as intended on the mast, but it needs several more controlling lines to help shape it and direct it’s force. The most important at this point are the yard hauling parrel, the luff hauling parrel, and the sheets. It would take a book to describe all of these lines and how they work effectively (see my previous post on sailmaking for some very good places to start), but the gist is that each of these requires a bit more fiddling with the sail, some trial and error to make them fit right, and, as always, a nice cold beer when the job’s done.

Here are some sequential shots of the sails going up on ALETHEIA, many of which were taken by my friends Stan and Susie.

The foresail bent on to the yard and with the first batten in place. Right now the parrel on the batten has not yet been installed, nor has the firehose.


The mainsail on it’s way up, as I’m inserting one of the lower battens (click to enlarge).


The mainsail fully hoisted after installing all of the battens. You can clearly see the red firehose and the dangling ends of the batten parrels at each batten. I’ll trim those once I take the boat for a test sail or two and get the tension set right (click to enlarge).


A closer detail look at the interaction between dodger, mast, and sail. The sail is swung far out to port here so it looks much smaller than it is.


A shot of the foresail fully hoisted while I was tweaking one of the parrels (click to enlarge).


Another shot of the setup process from a different angle. You can more clearly see the sheets from here (click to enlarge):


The sails are ever so slightly too long, but as they measured to specification I’m pretty sure that’s because the masts were either slightly short from the factory or are buried a bit more in the boat than planned. If it becomes a problem, I can simply shorten the last panel on each sail to make up the difference. However, for now it appears they should work just fine.

Last but not least

With the sails attached and the control lines installed, there were just a few remaining details. In order to use the control lines while sailing, it helps to run them all back to the cockpit so you can adjust the sails from one place, preferably while shielded from the weather. So I needed to create a smooth-running set of pulleys and guides to help make the path of all these control lines clear and organized. These components, commonly called fairleads and deck organizers, are essential to preventing tangles and confusion, especially when things get rough.

Some of the deck organizers I fabricated out of scrap aluminum and delrin sheaves:



With the lines going back to the cabin top, I needed to move my primary winches to help with the halyards. Hoisting those sails with the battens is doable but not by any means easy, especially under a strong press of wind, so having these winches handy will help, particularly when shaking out reefs in inclement weather.


I added some turning blocks to the base of the masts to align the lines with the deck organizers.


Then the lines run cleanly down the deck inside the dodger to the cockpit:



The lines from the mainmast do something similar, although shorter:


This is pretty much the completion of the construction work required to re-rig and re-fit ALETHEIA. After a few interior projects, I’ll be moving her out to an anchorage and living there for a while as I take her for a variety of test sails here in the bay. After that, who knows? Stay tuned!


____________/)___________

I took a break in the middle of the dodger project to visit a friend’s apartment cross-country for a week. It was a great space to assemble the sails, so I took full advantage of the opportunity. Carrying a sewing machine through the airport, especially one as heavy as the Sailrite LSZ-1, was not a fun job, but it all worked out in the end.

I don’t plan to go into too much detail on the process here, as sewing junk sails is something of a unique process to each sail and craft, but the general gist of it is well written in many books. Some of the references I have used are:

Practical Junk Rig by Hassler and McLeod, which is considered the modern “bible” of junk rig design.

Thomas Colvin’s excellent Sailmaking, a book written by a man who has spent the majority of his life aboard, building, or designing junk rigs of various kinds, with a particular emphasis on the traditional Chinese styles.

And the fine folks at the Junk Rig Association, in whose company are some of the finest and best known round-the-world and adventure sailors alive today. Without their help this project would not have gotten off as well as it has so far.

I also solicited advice from my designer, naval architect Tad Roberts and fellow sailing conspirator RLW at the fantastic Boat Bits blog, whom I mention here from time to time. His other site, Volkscruiser, focuses on simple sailing designs and philosophy for the average person, and I highly recommend it as well.

So, with the proper credits where they are due, and armed with a bevy of ideas, I set out to translate the design of my sails as handed to me by Tad into a physical creation of cloth, thread, webbing, and brass grommets that would hopefully actually fit my boat.

For those of you hoping for some more technical information, here you go.

Fabric is Odyssey III, a fairly lightweight (~7.5 oz) waterproof, UV resistant acrylic-coated polyester fabric designed as a cover and awning material. As a result it is somewhat more UV durable than standard dacron sailcloth, although I expect to make covers for my sails nevertheless at some point. Total construction time for the two sails was approximately 96 man-hours, but the mainsail took about 2/3 of this as I was figuring things out as I went. The foresail went significantly faster as I began learning some tricks to speed the work up. I believe that, with help, I could knock out both of these sails again in about half the time, especially if I had a more suitable work area like a place with a slick floor and not carpet.

The foresail is roughly 29 square metres, and the mainsail is roughly 31 sqm. in area, each of them have a pseudo-parallelogram for all but the two topmost panels, and the very topmost panel is a large triangular storm sail akin to a “crab claw” sail which reportedly is a very good sail shape for high winds. This panel has an area of about 4.7 sqm. for each sail.

The general sail shape is reminiscent of the suite of sails designed for the famous Badger, sailed by Annie and Pete Hill for many years, with the batten angles changed slightly to enhance the fanning and natural cambering of a flat-cut sail. There is zero camber in the panels. The aspect ratio is pretty close to 3:1. There are 6 battens in the main and 5 in the fore. I’ll go into more detail on the battens, yard and boom construction, and actual rigging in the next post of this series.

Now that they are made and the dimensions doublechecked (they came out within an inch of all expected dimensions!), I just hope they fit the boat!

The following photographs show portions of the process, along with a member of my loyal shore crew.

Last I left off, the dodger and arch were roughly in place, but completely unfinished.

After fitting the arch in place, I connected the arch and the dodger via some handrails which I made out of Alaskan Cedar, a strong, lightweight wood.



I bonded the dodger to the deck with a heavy fillet of thickened epoxy and three layers of 9 ounce fiberglass tape.



Once that was cured and sanded, and the rough parts of the dodger filled in and faired, it was time for paint.



The solar panels were refitted, using the mounts I’d fabricated earlier during the test fit.



I very carefully measured, then cut and epoxy sealed the window frames.



And finally cut the windows themselves out of 1/4” Lexan polycarbonate, for which I was fortunately able to find a local direct source (SABIC, the company who bought the Lexan brand, has a commercial sales group in Charleston and has excellent prices as there are no middlemen, effectively).



The end result is, to my eye, quite nice:







After all of that work, it is finally time to rig the sails!


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Sorry everybody: due to a huge influx of spam comments, I’m having to turn comments off for the site. Feel free to contact me directly, though!

Just a reminder, you can email me at my first name AT oddasea DOT com.


More updates to come shortly - been busy getting ALETHEIA ready for her first sea trials!

My blog buddy Bob over at Boat Bits is running a fantastic giveaway and all you need to do to enter is think for a minute.

The prize is the stunning DVD “Ice Blink” which I have yet to see but very much want to. So get in on the giveaway here.

That is all.


_______/)___________

Not much to say other than “FINALLY!”

It’s been a bit longer than I intended between updates, but that’s how it goes sometimes.

In the intervening time, I’d hoped to have the masts fully stepped, but sadly the weather and the tide timings have not come together to allow me to get my boat close enough to the dock at the right time to get the mast stepped. I have my fingers crossed for next week, but I’m not holding my breath.

Despite not having the masts IN the boat, though, I’ve made some great progress on the sailplan and the next major project has been identified, which will also - as usual - have to be completed in order to finish this re-rigging. When it rains, it pours, but it’s ok. We’ll get through this and back on the water.

So, let’s catch up. We left off with the deck prepped for the metal partner flanges, and the mast steps prepared for their own installation, but we hadn’t taken a look at the masts to make sure everything was all right there… so I rented a car for a day, took the metal parts for the flanges to the welder, and on the way back dropped by the marina holding my masts.



And there they are! What beauties…

Of course, there’s a lot of work to be done to get these lovely beasts ready for becoming masts instead of streetlamp posts, so let’s get cracking.

First things first, the bases need to come off, because we will bolt them to the mast steps inside the boat to firmly hold them in place. A few cutoff wheels and a Makita grinder later:



(Yes, I know. I took the photo after I’d also already run the mast cabling, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves…)

So, now we need to put the masthead fittings in place and run any cables through. I’ve made arrangements to use a VHF antenna atop both masts (the foremast will be for the AIS unit and the mainmast will hold the master VHF antenna for the boat - the foremast antenna serving as a backup, and there will be a third antenna on the dodger, for use by the secondary VHF radio), as well as a tricolor/anchor light combo atop the mainmast. Having received the masthead fittings from the welder, I drilled them, set up the cabling as necessary, and installed a waterproof quick disconnect fitting for the lights, so that I can repair them if necessary or repurpose the cabling for other needs in the future. The wiring is twisted together to help reduce RF (long wires act as very nice antennas and inject noise into the boat’s electrical system - playing havoc when I want to use my SSB radio, for instance!) and is held aloft by a “chinese finger-cuffs” sort of wire pulling harness which takes the strain off the wire end fittings. The masthead fittings themselves are bolted to the masthead by 4 M10 bolts, a very heavy-duty affair which I am quite comfortable will be able to lift the entire mast in and out of the boat without problem in the future.

So, all said and done, here’s what we end up with:



Not too shabby!

Now, we get to turn our attention back to Aletheia for some final details.

Upon getting the mast partner flanges back from the welder, I do a quick test-fit to make sure everything looks good:



You can see part of the deck core sitting behind the flange - I’d already cut out the main deck but still needed to cut the plywood boss, and in doing so I widened the hole slightly to fit the actual outer dimensions of the flange pipe, so a bit more deck came out with it. By the way, for this job I used some phenomenal blades, the Bosch U345XF Progressor blades, or should I say “the honeybadger”. This blade changed my pathetic, underpowered, pain-in-the-ass jigsaw into a rip-snorting monster that chewed through 2+ inches of deck, plywood, heavy glass, and even an embedded metal bolt that I found without breaking a sweat or breaking the blade. Tremendous, and highly recommended.

I applied a layer of glass around the inside of the cut hole to protect the deck core - cutting it back was not particularly feasible as it was heavily reinforced plywood laminate and not the weaker and frangible balsa wood - and used a very thick layer of epoxy and colloidal silica to bed the partner flange into the deck. I repeated this process at the bow as well, and after the epoxy cured I drilled the four corners and bolted them in place with 1/2” stainless bolts and used large, heavy fender washers to back them on the deck inside. The fender washers will be adequate since the deck is already heavily reinforced by the plywood boss and extra layers of glass on the underside, and the primary load here will be in shear on the bolts, not tearout.

With both partners complete, I turned to the mast bases, which bolt to the mast step. Each base was cut off the butt of the mast, and so it had some remainder of the mast pipe welded inside of it. This had to go to clear the way for setting the rest of the mast in, but one glance at how heavy the welds were gave me pause:


Massive welds at the bottom and top of the base would require extreme material removal on an industrial level.

Fortunately I’d learned a very neat trick from Alex at Bahama Rigging in Seabrook, TX: you can mill most aluminum with a wood bit in a router, if you turn the speed down and go slowly. Taking his advice, I put a 3/8” rabbet bit in my Bosch router and turned the speed down a bit. (I love this router, by the way. It’s an exceptionally useful tool, much smaller than your typical two-handed monster but with a ton of power.)

The result: an enormous pile of aluminum shavings and the pipe fell out cleanly!


In the image (click for a bigger version, as on all of these photos) you can see the bottom weld completely cut away with the pipe ready for the same treatment on the top weld. The jagged cut line was when I was messing with an angle grinder trying to see if it would work… useless. The router did the job in under an hour.

With the bases cleaned out and ready to accept the rest of the mast, all that was left was to bolt them in place to the Ipe mast steps. Not such a trivial task, though, as the placement needs to be relatively precise and there is not any good reference to measure from on a boat. No sweat, though, as Tad cleverly gave me a trick I used back before I cut the holes in the deck above: simply get the boat more or less level on her lines, then hang a plumb bob from the place in the deck you intend to cut out for the mast. That ends up being the center of the mast on the step. Having previously marked them thusly before cutting out the deck holes (and thus losing the center reference point) I was able to align the mast bases with relative ease. I did, however, burn through a pair of high-speed-steel 5/8” drill bits going through the 1.25” thick cast aluminum bases and bent the 1/2” shaft entirely on one of the bits when it grabbed exiting the other side of the hole. Despite the troubles, I persevered and the new mast bases are now bolted in place in the steps:


The foremast step, in the v-berth.


The mainmast step, in the cabin.

Stay tuned, there’s a bit of an interlude while we wait out some weather and knock out another side project, and then we’ll resume with this one shortly!


______/)________

With the cabin framing and step largely complete, I moved on to the foremast structures. This work was up in the v-berth area, near the bow, and was thus quite cramped to work in. But I managed quite well to keep the mess and dust largely confined to the forward areas this time, so that made life in the main cabin much more pleasant.

The first step, as usual, was to cut away the headliner and ceiling panels to reveal the hull and deck insides for grinding. I needed to remove the balsa coring from the area immediately around the mast, to reinforce and stiffen the deck for the anticipated forces, and to better transmit and distribute them to the ring frame and other hull structures like the anchor locker bulkhead.



The core came away in messy chips, and took most of a day to remove with a hammer and chisel, working upside down swinging the heavy hammer a few inches from my face. My arms got a fantastic workout that day is the polite euphemism for how I felt afterwards.



With the core removed, I cut away the main plywood panel forming the v-berth, as the structure framing it was in the way of the mast. I’ll rebuild this into proper storage units later. Here is where the mast step is going to go:



Now that all the areas which need new structure are exposed, I ground them down to reveal a solid surface to bond to:



As before, the ring frame is a laminated plywood structure which spans the width of the deck and bonds it to the hull sides. This time, I elected to assemble and shape the laminates as an entire piece, rather than layering them together inside the hull. Since this frame is much more narrow than the mainmast frame, it was much easier to do it this way.



I did the floors in the usual manner:



And glassed the ring frame in place all at once:





The ring frame and floors are both bonded with heavy thickened epoxy and tabbed with two layers of 17 ounce biaxial tape, then covered in 1-2 layers of 10 ounce fiberglass cloth. The deck core was replaced with 3 1/4” layers of quality underlayment plywood which in my area has no voids that I’ve yet noticed and is very durable with an exposure-rated adhesive. It’s also very affordable at $10 a sheet or so. I used about a gallon and a half of epoxy between the frame, fillets, floors, and deck laminations all told, mostly in the fillets.

You may notice that I also took the step of adding tabbing between the deck underside and the anchor locker bulkhead. This is just to give an additional layer of stiffness and support there - the bulkhead itself is not tremendously well attached to the hull but it’s bonded sufficiently to provide a reasonable extra amount of stiffness forward of the mast, which is never a bad thing.

I was able to complete all of this in about four days, as opposed to the two weeks it took me to do the same amount of work in the main cabin, so I felt reasonably accomplished and decided to proceed immediately into the mast steps themselves, as my shipment of Brazilian Ipe had just arrived. Ipe is a tremendously hard and rot-resistant wood and is therefore quite optimal for the mast steps.

For the mainmast, the steps were simple: straight sections, 27” long, of Ipe, laminated to a total width of 14.5 inches, and notched to fit snugly over the floors. I notched the ends using a combination of jigsaw and circular saw, and notched the middle using the jigsaw and a few well-placed drill holes to help the bit turn 90 degrees. The Ipe wood eats through saw blades like nobody’s business, though, and it likes to smoke a bit when you drill it, even if you drill slowly.

The foremast step was a bit more complicated. Because of the rapid taper in the hull that far forward and the rise of the keel at that point the forward floor was significantly higher than the middle and after floors. This required a notch larger than the wood was deep, and thus I needed to get more depth in the wooden step to accommodate that. The way Tad suggested was with a scarf joint, and after some discussion I was able to make a reasonable facsimile of it with a jigsaw. The Ipe doesn’t work very easily, so my joinery work wasn’t perfect, but the epoxy fills the gaps well and actually prefers a bit of a gap to give maximum strength so all in all I hope it worked out. I backed up the adhesive with two heavy bolts running through the scarf on either side just in case, and put the whole assembly in place - it has to weigh at least 25-30 kg! I tied it to the floors with a few 8” heavy lag screws and thickened epoxy, making a fillet as best I could where the notches met the floor.











After getting the floors glued and bolted in place, I turned my attention to the deck again. Specifically, where to cut the opening for the mast and partners. I leveled the boat by eye as best as I could using the waterline as a reference and then used a plumb bob to mark the deck where the mast location was outlined on the step. Drilling through from the inside left me a mark I could use as a reference, and I then measured the circumference and cut from the outside using a jigsaw.

I did encounter a little detail that caused me some frustration… see if you can spot it in this photograph:



I sure hope I put this in the right spot…



Note the color change between the glass work I did (green) and the original deck layup (red). Also note the thickness of the deck and skin at the cutout location.

Tad recommended adding a heavy 3/4” plywood boss / doubler piece right at the partners, both to help straighten out the camber in the deck as well as to add a bit of additional reinforcement right at the high-stress area. I did this for both masts, grinding some of the bottom of the plywood out to match the deck camber and filling the rest with thickened epoxy to transition the stress into the deck. A beveled edge and some fat fillets, a little glass tape and cover the whole thing with cloth. Good to go!





Next week I’ll be taking some metal parts to the welder and hopefully getting the first look at the masts. Stay tuned!


_______/)_____

This one is mostly pictures, so hang in there.


I’ve finished up the floors and prepped them for the mast step which will go on top. The batteries got relocated forward of the mast step area, and are firmly strapped in place, as well as being held securely by the sole support beams.


The next major project was to create a heavy ring frame across the underside of the deck, going from the port side of the hull all the way across to the starboard. The point of the frame is to stiffen the deck and cabin sides and to transfer the side loading of the mast to the hull and distribute it over as wide an area as possible.

To connect the frame with the deck itself required cutting away the headliner in order to prep the deck underside for a solid epoxy bond. Those fuzzies are from the chopped strand that was apparently used to help hold the headliner and the deck together when building the boat. I then had to grind away everything in this strip. I absolutely hate grinding fiberglass, and this time I got myself a Tyvek suit to help keep the itching to a minimum since all the dust was going to get blown into my face. Money absolutely well spent - it helped a LOT! Of course, my eyes were itching the worst even despite the protective gear I was wearing.


After the grinding, a much more fun job began. I used 1/4” luan as a template, tracing the outline of the deck and cabin sides and trimming with a jigsaw until it fit to my satisfaction. Once I had a solid template, I transferred it to 1/2” AC exterior plywood. I staggered the joints so they would not overlap and was able to keep each layer of the 3.35 meter (11 feet) frame to only 3 pieces of wood, with some even coming out as 2. It took exactly 2 sheets of plywood to make the frame plus two stiffening knees I added a bit more forward in the cabin trunk.


The first layer of four getting epoxied into place. I did the first layer by itself to serve as a guide and clamping layer for the next three, which went up nearly simultaneously. By putting each layer in place one at a time I was able to minimize the amount of voids between the deck and the layers of plywood, as well as mix smaller batches of epoxy rather than larger batches - this minimizes waste and prevents the epoxy from kicking too soon. I was using extremely thick epoxy and colloidal silica (cabosil, fumed silica, all the same thing), just shy of peanut butter consistency, for the bond to the deck underside and a thinner mix about like ketchup to laminate the plywood layers together.


The three layers clamping together.



After the entire frame was cured, I used a grinder with a 40-grit disc to smooth the edges of the layers to a generally pleasing curve, then took a router to the corners to help lay fiberglass cloth more easily over the whole frame. At this point, I did not have the fillets in place.


The two knees (one each port and starboard) were constructed as a complete laminate of 4 layers first, then the whole thing was bonded in place. While I didn’t have enough time to do the fillet on the ring frame along with the deck bond, I was able to do that with the knees, adding the fillet just after this photo was taken. That lets the layer of epoxy that is bonding the knee to the deck chemically interlink with the fillet, adding a smidge more strength to an already overbuilt joint.


Once I put the fillets on the ring frame, I applied two layers of heavy biaxial tape staggered across the fillet, then covered the entire rest of the frame in 10 ounce fiberglass cloth.

Overall, it took about 12 ounces of silica and 1.5 gallons of epoxy to complete the entire frame along with the knees.

Oh, and look what came in the mail the day after I finished this project section:


I haven’t chosen a name for it yet, though I have a few good ideas.

Stay tuned as next time we’re heading to the v-berth to repeat this entire process, floors and frame, in a slightly smaller and more awkward space!


__________ /) __________

I’ve been able to make some good progress these past few weeks on the boat repairs and preparations for the new mast configuration. Before I get to the updates, though, I’ve found a few articles recently that were really thought provoking that I hope to share with you.

The Archdruid Report summarizes 2012 and makes some practical observations on what it means to really want to change the world.

Humans In Design wonders who the trains in your city are really built for, and takes the time to do some fascinating discovery.

And Dmitry Orlov, a former high-energy particle physicist and fellow sailor, makes his own astute observations particularly on the state of the energy economy at this critical juncture.

Good reading during the slow times as business ramps up again after the extended holidays.

Ok, on to the update on boat progress, for those of you so interested.

Last time I left you with a hole in the cabintop where a hatch had been. In the intervening period, I’ve installed a 3/4” thick laminate of high quality plywood as a core, and covered it with 1/4” of fiberglass on the exterior side and 1/8” of fiberglass on the interior side. I used 17 oz. biaxial and 18 oz. cloth on the outside, 12 oz. biaxial and 10 oz. cloth on the inside. I painted the outside with Kiwigrip nonskid to protect it from UV damage, but I’ll likely have to repaint the whole deck again after installing the partners and stepping the masts as that will likely result in new scuffs and scrapes, so I’ve held off on a full-out deck repair and cleanup until then. In the meantime, though, I’ve also removed a bunch of useless, extraneous, or now-redundant deck hardware and discovered some horrible bedding techniques in the process. Hopefully I’ve now stopped a surprising quantity of core leaks whilst cleaning the deck up and making a LOT of nice open clear room to store Terraporte, the rowing tender.

The plan is to replace this hatch once the new rig is in and I can determine a suitable place for the replacement to be located that won’t compromise the structure of the cabin top.

More update after this first set of photos, keep reading!






After the hatch was removed and the deck reinforced, I set to work on the mast step. This required some serious heavy support down in the keel, sufficient to take some massive loads as the mast and full force of the wind on the rig is supported solely by this step and the deck partners - there are no stays or shrouds on the new rig and the mast is entirely self supported. So these supports must be strong and durable.

Tad, my architect, sent me some great plans for the mast step, and I set about constructing them. The first step was the worst: grinding a large section of the keel down to bare, clean fiberglass so that I could make solid epoxy bonds for the new structure. Despite taping plastic sheeting all over the entire area and covering the rest of the boat in it, there was still enough horrid fiberglass dust created that a thin film of it was on EVERYTHING in the whole boat when I was finished. It took a week to get that dust out of most places and I still open a locker and get a face full of it from time to time. It’s nasty, horrid stuff.

But the keel was finally solid and ready to accept the “floors” as they are called in the shipbuilding trade. These floors aren’t what you think of as a floor, in fact they run vertically and are only 3” thick. But they are super solid and the plan is to span the three floors with heavy timber to create the actual mast step itself, distributing the load across a wider section of keel and providing a redundant bond to the hull. I laid some PVC pipe cut in half down in the fore and aft floors to provide drainage. The middle floor was on the transition between the lead ballast and a spare fuel tank and so I drilled a hole for a solid pipe to provide the angle needed for a smooth flow back to the main bilge. Now that everything’s cured in place, the plan is to rough it all up, lay some heavy cloth over it to provide additional reinforcement, and then paint it and cover it with the heavy mast step timbers.

Stay tuned - next up we’ll be working on deck reinforcements and battery relocation!

Click for bigger photos:

















See more here.



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