Odda Sea - Life Aboard An Allied Princess Sailing Yacht

An "instant" fiberglass hard dodger - Part 3, Putting it all together

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Thu, 23 May 2013 19:26:00 +0000

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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Comments Closed

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Thu, 16 May 2013 16:42:08 +0000

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!

We now bring you this important message...

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Tue, 07 May 2013 04:08:27 +0000

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.

_______/)___________

An "instant" fiberglass hard dodger - Part 2, The Arch

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 04:48:48 +0000

In the previous installment on this subject, I covered the origin and general construction of a hard dodger for my boat.

The dodger in and of itself is a lot of nice protection, especially for the companionway area and the very forward ends of the cockpit. However, it’s not quite the right size, shape, or position to put the solar panels, nor does it provide any shelter overhead from rain for those sitting in the cockpit proper. For this we need to extend a covering back aft to a strong support where the panels will also attach. The most useful structure for doing this efficiently is to simply put an arch across the cockpit wherever we want it, and to span the space between the arch and the dodger with a waterproof canvas. In this case, the canvas makes good sense because it’s removable if we don’t want it, if it goes overboard in a heavy wave we don’t lose the protection afforded by the dodger, and it’s lightweight and easily replaced unlike the complex shapes of a canvas dodger and frame structure. The arch, on the other hand, must be quite solid.

I designed the arch to be able to do chin-ups on with regularity, although the height is not optimal since it must roughly match the dodger’s. I did not want the arch height to exceed the dodger height, even though that would be convenient for standing under. The main reason was that I wanted the solar panels to be relatively flat in case the sun was shining from aft, to at least pick up some power. Another reason was that it would create even more windage. A hard dodger is effectively permanent windage on a boat, and though I tried to make mine rather low and at least somewhat aerodynamic (haha) it will present some not-insignificant windage, especially in very strong winds. I did not want the arch to add significantly to this.

So the arch needed to match the dodger’s height and camber, and be quite strong. Initially I decided to go with a laminate of plywood (the Luan doorskins again as they bend easily to match curves, are generally a quality wood, and are inexpensive so I can template as I go). I set up the arch shapes for the crossbeam and, just for an extra measure of strength and hopefully some stiffness, I added some carbonfiber tape to the laminate as well. Here they are curing on the forms:

However, despite being much stiffer than ordinary plywood, they were still relatively too flexible for what I was looking for. And in this moment I learned a very important lesson: strength does not equal stiffness.

For a particular structure to be strong it simply needs to be built of materials with high tensile and shear strength. A few layers of kevlar, carbon fiber, or even multiple layers of fiberglass can all accomplish this. However, this often creates a very strong structure that is rather flexible at the same time - much like a willow tree is very strong but also flexible. After some research and consultation, again mostly with Bob, I found a solution. To add the stiffness easily, without adding significant weight or expense in exotic materials, I resorted to a construction called the “torsion box”. In fact, the torsion box form of construction is so stiff that I didn’t need any exotic fibers at all, and so with the exception of re-using the laminate I’d already made with the carbon fiber in it, I made the entire structure out of simple wood, epoxy, and fiberglass as I did with the dodger.

The first step was to re-laminate the arch crosspiece to match the dodger curve. This time, I did it directly on the dodger, screwing the wood pieces together to clamp the epoxy in place. I added an extra block to increase the curve, knowing that to some small degree the entire piece would spring back a bit when I released it. I wanted the natural curve of the piece to be that of the dodger, so this extra block compensates for that springback.

To add the stiffness via the torsion box, I added some 1/2” rips of 1” dimensional cypress wood to the edges of both sides of the laminate. In the photo, the top side is getting these pieces.

The wood strips were then topped with another sheet of plywood, forming a hollow beam with the two layers of plywood as the surfaces and the wood strips as the sides.

I constructed the side pieces of the arch the same way, but was able to glue them up as a complete unit in one go since there was no complicated curve to worry about.

The box structure is clearly visible here.

It makes a very nice wood pattern on the sides too.

The arch crosspiece getting the final surface installed. The epoxy bottles help ensure that the extra pieces conform to the curve already in the previous laminates, rather than trying to pull those laminates straight.

The finished crosspiece is a very nice piece of work. I got a lot of compliments on the dock for this one.

The arch with sidepieces installed, getting a test fit in the cockpit. The dodger is flipped up behind it for a layer of filler before final sanding and painting.

Getting the angles right… note the laminated bases for the arch to adjust the final height, and the temporarily-screwed-in-place side pieces to ensure the feet of the arch stay in position until the epoxy cures. These were super helpful additions to help “flow” the arch structure into the boat and hold it in place during initial curing.

Using some cheap conduit to help align the arch and dodger, and to layout the solar panel mount spacing.

The arch got a full coat of fiberglass, with extra reinforcements in the corners and at the base. I was able to do a chin-up without the arch moving much if at all. It definitely feels rock solid and like a part of the boat!

In part 3 I’ll cover finishing the arch and dodger and installing the solar panels.

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An "instant" fiberglass hard dodger - Part 1

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 04:14:00 +0000

March blew by in a hurry, and April seems to be going the same way. There’s a LOT to catch up on here on the blog, but I’m still short on time to really convey the progress. I hope to write better single-topic articles on some of these endeavours before too long, but don’t hold your breath. As is the norm for now, here are some photos with brief captions.

In early March, the masts went in and a variety of preparation projects took place, including mast wiring, some electric motor troubleshooting, and the like. More interestingly, the yards and booms were crafted from Douglas-fir, but that was really just a simple matter of taking appropriately thick lumber, cutting it with a circular saw, sanding, routing, and painting. Nothing particularly fascinating or challenging there. The REAL items of interest came the weeks following. Today’s post is about one of them.

First, the sheeting arrangement for the mainsail required access for the sheets from the aft end of the cockpit. No big deal, as the mizzen already sheeted from there and the Junk rig’s loads are not radically worse. I just needed to strengthen the sheeting point and be done with it… except there was the issue of the solar panel arch, which was right in the way of the sheets and could not be accommodated in the new rig.

The arch in question can be seen above the cockpit in this image… if you look hard enough.

So the solar panels needed a new home, and I took advantage of this disruption to begin constructing something I’ve wanted for quite some time - a hard dodger. For those of you who aren’t familiar with what a “dodger” is… it’s sort of like a “windshield” for the cockpit - in the photo above you can see how effectively exposed the cockpit of the boat is, and since it’s the point of control for the sails, rudder, and other important aspects of the ship, the crew needs to be there regardless of the weather. Having a bit of protection from the wind, spray, and even the occasional overly friendly large wave is no bad thing, and can help keep the crew safe, warm(er), dry(er), and generally in better spirits.

The vast majority of sailboats out there, if they have a dodger at all, have a cloth one stretched over some relatively lightweight frames made often of stainless or aluminum tubing. This, in my opinion, is both a pain in the ass to make and easily destroyed if a person falls on it, the sun shines on it too long, or even a reasonable, moderate wave comes aboard with some intent. Any dodger, hard, soft, or otherwise, can in theory be carried away by the wrong sort of wave entirely, but the type of dodger I had in mind would be vastly less easy to coerce off the deck.

Now, a lot of people have talked about hard dodgers on sailboats before, but often what they mean is a dodger with a hard top that they can get up on, but retaining the cloth “windshield” portion. Again, not something I’m interested in.

I consulted with the eminently sensible and general expert in getting-things-done-right-for-cheap Bob over at Boat Bits (I’ve mentioned him before on this site a few times - he really is a sharp chap and thinks waaaaay outside the box as a matter of habit). His idea was clever: just build the dodger with plywood, using the “stitch and glue” method I’d just built my dinghy with. Then cover the whole works with fiberglass inside and out, and hey presto! you have a dodger which will stand up to most any abuse, look great while doing it, and be easy to build.

Now, I know that Bob can turn one of these out in about a week flat, and to be fair, I was able to do that for the basic frame and glasswork as well. But my finishing has really taken some time (not to mention I’ve been distracted by some other side projects which I’ll get to talking about shortly) so it’s not fully complete. That said, here are the photos of the templating, layout, and initial build.

I lay out the template using Luan doorskin plywood, 3-layer at about 1/4” thick. The heights will be adjusted later, here I’m trying some various angles and combinations to see what looks good.

Another view of the templating process.

Capping the final template with a roof piece, prior to trimming. I set the camber of the roof piece using a laminated curve of the same doorskin plywood, glueing two pieces back-to-back for stiffness, and then stitching that using aluminum electric fence wire to the roof piece. I tried two different camber heights before I got the look and companionway clearance I needed.

Another view of the template as I did some last minute fiddling.

I added some extensions to the sides and top to help keep a bit more spray off an occupant huddled behind it as the boat heels over a bit.

Here you can see the height of the dodger versus the old height of the arch, which is shortly to be removed.

The inside of the dodger after the fillets and glass layers cured.

The dodger gets a heavy coat of fiberglass and fillets inside and out, to encapsulate the template as a core. Now the dodger is a very strong, rigid structure with its own 3-D integrity and durability. It weighs about 35-40 lbs with the glass, wood, and all the epoxy on it. Not bad for something that started as two sheets of plywood!

In the next installment on this subject I’ll cover the companion piece to the dodger, the cockpit arch.

Stay tuned!

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Junk Rig Conversion Part 5: They're IN!

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Sat, 02 Mar 2013 00:14:25 +0000

Not much to say other than “FINALLY!”

Junk Rig Conversion Part 4: Prepping the Masts and Mast Collars

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Sat, 23 Feb 2013 03:59:55 +0000

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!

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Junk Rig Conversion Part 3: The Forward Mast Step and Ring Frame

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 02:50:27 +0000

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!

_______/)_____

Junk Rig Conversion - Part 2: Cabin Reinforcement Progress

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Tue, 22 Jan 2013 01:58:37 +0000

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!

__________ /) __________

Junk Rig Conversion - Part 1: Progress continues...

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 20:56:59 +0000

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!

Boat 2.0 - The Revolution Begins

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 21:07:24 +0000

I’ve been threatening for quite some time to discuss the repairs to Aletheia and the new rig she’s going to get after her dismasting. Well, I’m comfortable enough with the plan moving forward to finally share some of it with you, so hang on to your seats ladies and gents; this is about to get radically different from what you’re used to.

First, a sneak preview of the new rig design, courtesy the naval architecture expertise of Tad Roberts, my architect:

That’s right, folks, she’s going to be a schooner when this is all said and done! And not just any schooner, but a Chinese lug sail, also known as a “junk” rig. This rig is notable for its lack of stays, its simplicity, reliability, and ease of singlehanding - all important advantages for the type of sailing I’m planning to do.

The first and most significant bit of reconstruction necessary for this conversion was to relocate a hatch which is in the center of the cabintop. This isn’t a big deal, but it does involve a bit of fiberglass work and some nasty grinding.

First step was to cut the hatch out:

After that I ground the interior and exterior skins on the cored deck back about 3” in a bevel to provide for good bonding strength for the new fiberglass:

This required me to build a temporary “grinding booth” inside the boat using a drop cloth to contain the horrid fiberglass dust. I’m very glad that part is done now!

Next up I’ll be filling in the deck core and putting a fiberglass laminate on each side for strength. Once that’s done, I can do some final reinforcements to the deck structure in preparation for installing the mast partners.

Back to work...

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Mon, 29 Oct 2012 19:36:49 +0000

Wooden Ships in Copenhagen Harbor

This past summer has been one of the most adventurous, amazing, mind-expanding summers I could ever have imagined. Despite so many setbacks, beginning with the struggles in the Gulf and peaking with the dismasting in the Atlantic, some amazing opportunities are beginning to present themselves.

After Iceland I had the privilege to tour some incredible cities in northern and central Europe, meeting old friends and making new ones, learning about the histories of various civil movements such as the squats in Holland and Denmark, the linguistic history of the Czech language, and the fascinating story of the origin and growth of Prague. I was able to top it off with a visit to Dutch Design Week to see some of the top European design and innovation - much of which revolved around the recognition of major shifts in the industrial landscape and a renewed focus on urban sustainability and localized production. As many of you know, these are themes near and dear to my heart — in fact, my interest in building and maintaining thriving and sustainable communities is one of the factors that lead me to explore living aboard a sailboat in the first place. As this intellectual and cultural journey continues, expect to see these themes coming more to the forefront of my activities, in many varied incarnations.

Speaking of the boat…

My poor boat has sat for far too long, immobile, against a dock head in the Southeastern US, awaiting my return from a summer of research, investigation, exploration, and discovery. She’s got a nice mess of waterline growth despite some high quality antifouling, and it’s definitely time to give her some much-needed attention.

I’ve contracted Tad Roberts, the naval architect whose designs are much discussed by my friend Bob at Boat Bits, to design a suitable new rig plan for Aletheia. I’m going to keep mum on the specifics at the moment, but suffice it to say that it will be a RADICAL departure from the conventional rig that these boats usually have (for both financial and ease-of-sailing reasons), but she will without question retain her seaworthyness, beauty, and hopefully a very much increased ease of handling. I should have the final plans in a month or so and will make a decision on whether or not to forge ahead with the actual work.

Last but never least, I have a whole batch of photos to share. I’ll be doing a few photo posts shortly, for those of you who enjoy them.

Thanks so much for reading and for sticking with me, sporadic as I may be!

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Iceland

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Sun, 30 Sep 2012 22:45:55 +0000

Click for bigger photos:

See more here.

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Amsterdam

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 15:24:45 +0000

As the tram wheezes to a stop alongside the well-worn bricks of Dam Square, I notice a throng of red-shirted young men waiting to get on. The star and crescent of the Turkish flag emblazoned on their chests stands out in the sea of dark brown and black leather and wool jackets, waxed cotton, and flannel of the fashionable Amsterdam night crowd. One of the Turks throws me a glance and as the tram begins a halting, stammering pace, pausing for the crosswalks and occasional jaywalking tourist, I ask him how the game went. He shrugs. “We should have beaten the Netherlands,” he admits, “but not this time. At least it’s just the first game of the season.” I nod and we converse a bit more about the standings before he returns to his friends. I’m getting off at the next stop anyway, enroute to one of the more well-known of the former squats in Centraal. Vrankrijk has a history of political and social activism and has since become a legitimately owned and occupied facility housing approximately 20 of the former squatting community and their friends. Downstairs is now a bar, recently re-opened after a 2 year hiatus thanks to governmental wrangling - the details of which are lost in translation.

Inside, I’m sitting at the bar as a small group walks in. Spiked hair, piercings, and hardcore rock band t-shirts underneath studded leather jackets appear to be the order of the day. A beautiful girl with a sidecut blows a cloud of cigarette smoke away from my face as her sparkling dark eyes study my decidedly non-conformist outfit of slim jeans and a blue oxford shirt. Apparently I’m out of place enough to be interesting, and we start a conversation about the squat that quickly leads into the topics of art, education, the housing shortage in the city, social change and beyond. The man to my right chimes in with some useful information as well and, as the girl excuses herself to take a shift behind the bar, he and I continue to discuss the Vranrijk and the opportunities that remain for positive social change in Amsterdam.

A tremendously social city, Amsterdam retains a unique culture mixing broad social and corporate liberties with the systematic order of well-maintained public infrastructure and government services. One of the consequences of this approach, however, has been a slow but steady reduction in the traditionally high tolerance for un-regulated activity like squatting and sleeping in the public parks overnight - affordances which, some argue, helped create the tolerant and vibrantly artistic community that made Amsterdam the thriving and popular city it is now.

If there are negative consequences, however, they don’t stop the typical Amsterdammers from being creative, productive, and friendly. Open-air markets, readily available local and organic food, inexpensive and excellent craft and Belgian beers, art collectives, live music everywhere, and quality art-house theatre cafes such as Studio/K and the Melkweg showcase a variety of fascinating opportunities for exploration and even, if one were so inclined, participation.

My host lent me a lovely, squeaky old road bicycle for my stay, and I spent many days enjoying the bike-friendly streets. Unlike the vast majority of North American cities, Amsterdam has a significant investment in traffic infrastructure specifically for bicycles, including special privileges on certain streets, separate traffic signals and even a custom set of lanes, paths, and roadways designed specifically for the heavy bicycle traffic, partitioned off from the main thoroughfares in many cases. As a traveler and an appreciator of the car-free lifestyle, I am a tremendous fan of bicycles and am always delighted to be in cities where they are a principle mode of transportation.

All too soon I am staring at the Centraal train station, this time taking a train to Schiphol for my flight out of the Netherlands. The countryside speeds past as the Fyra express picks up speed and I’m getting a time-condensed replay of so much of the past ten days. Canals, barges, colorful houses, a futuristic space-station-like train station, massive pilings for the main highway, small outposts of modern architecture, random shipping-container buildings and quaint traditional Dutch homes all flick by like a collection of thoughts in full color. The windows flash dark and suddenly we’re in the tunnel entrance to the airport. My last train in the Netherlands comes to its quiet, hissing stop and as the doors glide open I’m already looking forward to coming back again, back to this country of quiet revolutions, friendly faces, and the ever-present canals, bridges, pleins, and bicycles against whose backdrop the dance that is Amsterdam continues.

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Seattle

nospam@example.com (Daniel) — Mon, 20 Aug 2012 18:59:08 +0000

Uncharacteristic bright blue skies over Seattle beam down glorious sunny rays today. The conversation in this coffee shop is sprinkled with comments about how nice the weather is, reminding me of The Oatmeal’s clever dissection of Seattle weather. My friends and I have definitely been making maximum use of the good weather, finally putting my motorcycle license to good use riding my friend’s Buell XB9 around town just for fun. We also took a ferry trip out to Friday Harbor to visit Steven Roberts of Nomadness fame.

Oddly enough, though, I haven’t actually made it to downtown Seattle proper, yet. That will have to wait until next week, as I’m heading back to the San Juans to work on some boat projects with Steve for a couple days. We plan to have some great geekery projects to tackle, and hopefully some sailing in the process.

Still working on a review of Seattle’s coffee, microbrews, and the section of general lifestyle I’ve seen so far. Initial results are favorable for coffee, good to excellent for the microbrews (although Colorado still edges them out). City life I can’t judge but I can say that Seattle has some terrible traffic, requires autos to get nearly anywhere, and feels very congested - also people drive very slow out here making the congestion feel worse. Then again, I’ve been in the ‘burbs for the most part, and nice though they are, they are definitely not the downtown boroughs where a lot more social interaction happens. Stay tuned as I figure out if I can find a suitable scene in the limited time I have remaining, or if Seattle will have to punt… So far, though, the score is Seattle Transit Situation: Fail.

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