La Paz to Bahia de Concepcion

Ensenada Grande with mainland Baja in the background.

On Saturday, April 13^th we went grocery shopping at the local Mega, took a long swim in the pool and had dinner at Steinbecks. The next morning we checked out of Costa Baja and headed north to Isla Partida. In the Sea of Cortez the wind generally blows up the sea or down the sea. Today it was blowing down the sea so we motor-sailed directly into a 15 knot headwind and lumpy, choppy seas as we passed up the west side of Isla Espiritu Santo toward our destination of Ensenada Grande on the west side of Isla Partida, arriving in the late afternoon. There were a few other boats in the anchorage, but it’s a big enough bay that we were able to anchor in a fairly secluded spot close to some bluffs on the south side of the bay. The water was clear enough that I could see the anchor send up a cloud of sand as it hit the bottom 22 feet below the surface. This made the snorkeling great, and we saw lots of tropical fish and healthy looking coral. Later we took the dinghy around the southern end of the bay, past Punta Tijeretas and into the tiny cove of Las Cuevitas where there is a blue footed booby rookery. It’s not the nesting season now, but there were still a lot of boobies around. That night I set my alarm to wake up at 0200 so we could watch a total eclipse of the moon. There is something awesome about seeing a lunar eclipse from the deck of a sailboat where there is no light pollution from any nearby civilization.

Sunset is a perfect time for a paddle in Ensenada Grande.

I have no idea how these unusual rocks were formed but they are fascinating to explore.

While there, we hiked up the hills behind the bay and explored the strange rock formations that line the north side of the bay. When we got restless we sailed north again toward the fishing village of San Evaristo on the mainland of Baja.

With a nice breeze out of the southeast, we had a pleasant sail for about twenty miles then about six miles from the anchorage, the wind died and we began to motor. We had been trolling all day without a bite, but about four miles out, the reel lit up and we caught a 20 pound dorado.  This was our first fish of this kind and as soon as we got the anchor down in Evaristo I had the BBQ out and we had a fine meal of grilled dorado, wild rice and a fine bottle of pinot grigio, supplied by my friends at C1. Thanks guys!  We spent a couple of days in Evaristo then departed for Puerto Los Gatos, about thirty miles up the Baja coast.

We caught him just in time for dinner.

A dorados beautiful colors quickly fade when they die. After giving him a couple of shots of rum this fellow relaxed and died peacefully.

It was a beautiful starboard tack reach, with about 12 knots of wind out of the east under a hazy, somewhat overcast sky. I like the overcast because it provides some relief from the sun, which can be brutal here in the Sea. We approached Los Gatos from the southeast and saw a boat anchored in the far northern part of the bay, which is about half a mile wide. We anchored in the southern part of the bay, about as far from the other boat as we could get and were looking forward to a beautiful, quiet evening.  But within an hour three other boats came into the bay and anchored close enough that we could hear them talking as they enjoyed their sundowners.  A couple of them left early the next morning so we were able to explore this beautiful bay pretty much in peace and solitude. Different voyages have different flavors. The last time we were here, three years ago, we were delighted to have lots of friends from other boats around. This time, we have been inclined to seek the solitude of empty bays and quiet nights. 

Our dinghy is a speck on the beach at Los Gatos.

On Saturday, April 19^th we got the anchor up early and headed for Bahia Agua Verde, about 13 miles north. With three knots of wind out of the southeast, there was no point in trying to sail, so we fired up the diesel and a couple hours later we anchored about a hundred yards off the beach in Agua Verde. Since it was the day before Easter Sunday, the beaches in the fairly large bay were crowded with Mexican vacationers here to celebrate the holiday. The next morning we hiked into the country behind the little settlement. Aside from fishing, the locals raise goats, pigs and a few cattle. There is a school and church, along with a couple of small tiendas and a restaurant or two, so Agua Verde, though it has no cell phone or internet service is fairly cosmopolitan compared to most other places in this part of Baja California.

Later in the day we raised the anchor and continued north 22 miles to Puerto Escondido.  We arrived around 1700 and passed through the narrow channel into the lagoon that makes this place an excellent all weather port of refuge. The lagoon is over a mile long and half a mile wide and until recently had over a hundred moorings. Now there are only a few moorings left, and they don’t look well maintained. Ashore, things have declined from the last time we were here. There is still a boatyard with a Travelift and a floating dock and a few boats hauled out here, but the place is pretty desolate. The restaurant has closed down and so has the little tienda. Puerto Escondido should be a thriving community, but apparently there has been a lot of disagreement within the local business community and with the government which has had a bad effect on the village. We had hoped to stock up on fresh food and use the Internet here, but instead we spent one night in the lagoon tied to an iffy looking mooring and left the next morning for the town of Loreto, about 14 miles up the coast.

Puerto Escondido sunrise. Regardless of the business situation in the village, the scenery remains awe inspiring. 

There is a tiny harbor at Loreto but it is for the exclusive use of the local fishermen, so we anchored outside and took the dinghy into town where we had a nice meal at the Hotel La Mision, checked email and wandered around the town a bit before heading back out to the boat. While ashore we visited a unique museum of sorts, with the skeletons of whales and dolphins on display.  Back aboard Finisterra, we spent a peaceful night anchored outside the harbor, then left early the next morning for Caleta San Juanico.   

 The distance from Loreto to San Juanico is about 27 miles and with scant wind, we motorsailed the entire distance, arriving in the early afternoon. There were four or five boats anchored in the north end of the bay and a couple more at the south end, so we chose a nice spot just off the beach in the middle part of the bay, anchoring in about 15 feet of water. With a light breeze coming out of the southeast and crystal clear water, the swimming was delightful. Later we grilled the last of the dorado I caught a week ago for dinner. The next morning we were underway early for the 50 mile passage to Bahia de Concepcion.

Caleta San Juanico is dotted with rocky islets.

 The wind blew out of the northwest, exactly the direction we wanted to go, so we motored toward Punta Concepcion until we were a few miles out. Then the wind shifted to northeast and piped up to about 20 knots and we had a fast sail around the point and about six miles down the bay. Then we furled the sails and picked our way through the pass between Punta Piedrita and tiny Isla Pitihaya, toward Playa Santispac. There were several boats already at anchor there, so we bore away toward the little cove at Posada de Conception where we anchored in about 20 feet of water in the lee of some tall bluffs which offered good protection from the strong northerlies that sometimes blow down the Sea of Cortez. Finisterra was to remain at anchor here for the next nine days. 

The Seven Wonders of the Dutch rowing World

The Netherlands is a short flight from the southern UK and their weather is similar to ours, but their rowing clubs are practically on a different planet.

Last weekend, I went on an informal 29km rowing tour there with Dutch friends, followed by a conference on touring rowing (organised by Toer!) the next day in Amsterdam, and was bowled over by what I found.

Wonder Number 1. Soft cushions!
We were the guests of a member of Baarn watersports club on the river Eem, south-east of Amsterdam. As you often find on the continent, there was a special cushion for the coxing seat of our touring coxed quad. So far so nicely organised.

But this club had taken the concept to a new level with monogramed embroidery: you cant quite see it in this photo, but the orange line of characters on the right are the Club name, and the small group in the top left are the boat name (so you dont accidentally take the wrong cushion for your boat – perish the thought).

Its kinda, "If Charles Tyrwhitt did boat cushions..."

Wonder Number 2: Rowing into a gallery
Anyway, we set off, and had a pleasant row past many fields to  the small town of Amersfoort, which mixes well-kept old buildings, with the most modern of modern architecture, and a great deal of "art" scattered all over the place.

This must be "art".
Not a clue what else it could be...

There was even a chandelier under the railway bridge. The perfect lighting if you were having a floating dinner party, I guess. Though possibly only for people using sign language, given the rumble of trains overhead.

Wonder number 3: The longest boathouse

Paddling back out of town, we stopped off at Hemus rowing clubs brand new home, which is, without doubt, the most spacious boathouse Ive ever seen (with the possible exception of Northeastern in Boston). 

Boats, almost as far as the eye can see.
Note also (OK, with a magnifying glass) the standard arrangement of a touring boat on the floor at the bottom of every rack, with fine boats above.
That, people, is how many touring boats the average Dutch club has. Wow OH wow.

The full length boat bays had no fewer then FOUR racks of boats along them (OK, not all VIIIs, but there were some), with copious spacing above each boat. You know how clothes are displayed in the windows of smart boutiques: a choice piece, carefully arranged on its own against complimentary surrounding. And you know how your rowing kit is stuffed into a big bag. Well, there you have Hemus rowing club compared with your average boathouse: a sort of zen of boat racking. You can just feel the calm, cant you?

As you might expect, there was also a massive bike park and a complete lack of car park, and to my utter astonishment, a sedum roof. Not sure what else I can say about that, other than !. And !!

But then the next day, I found another sedum roof at RIC in Amsterdam (I did take a photo, but once youve seen one picture of a boathouse with a sedum roof, youve seen em all) so, based on a sample size of three, I concluded that around 67% of Dutch boathouses have sedum roofs. I wonder if there are any in the UK? 

Wonder Number 5: No soggy towels, thanks, were Dutch!
Amidst such shiny new-ness, I was reassured to see that the club had clearly brought one thing from their previous shed: the obligatory 1950s mangle that I have observed in almost all Dutch rowing clubs, for wringing out the boat-wiping towels (where do they GET them from?).

Incidentally, when I say "almost all" clubs have these, the club back in Baarn where we started didnt have a mangle but had hurtled recklessly into the 21st century and had a dedicated boat-towel washing machine. Shocking stuff.

Wonder Number 6: What goes on Tour...

What goes on tour are Dutch rowers apparently. Big time. All the clubs I visited had a Tour Calendar on their club noticeboard, listing at least 12 events for the season, and I discovered that every club has a Touring Committee. A permanent group dedicated to organising tours (plural). Perhaps I should emigrate?

Wonder Number 7: Expressing rowing through the medium of...

When youve rowed for as long as I have, youve generally seen it all in terms of rowing lifestyle accessories: paintings, mugs, boxer shorts, ornaments, you know the kind of thing. But at RIC I found some novel ways of bringing rowing indoors. First, perfectly supporting Dutch stereotypes about painted tiles, the youth section had produced a set of decorated rowing tiles in the clubs orange and black colours:

The river was mapped on one of the bars coffee tables in inlaid marquetry (you cant see it in the photo blow, but bridges and locks were marked):

And finally, a highly creative member had expressed a tour route in the medium of tapestry:

Thats it for wonders, but like the sprinkles on your cupcake, heres a final fascinating fact pertaining to the social history of rowing. British rowers are well aware that  rowing use to have an obsession with "amateur" status, and the fact that (back in the day) it might only be done by "gentlemen". This led to the founding of clubs like Thames Tradesmen Rowing Club, whose members were barred from joining some of the amateur" clubs because their work involved a physical element. Rowing clubs in Amsterdam, however, followed different social divisions, with RIC having its origins as the Catholic rowing club (I gather that sectarian divisions ran as deep as British class divisions, till even more recently, not just with separate Catholic and Protestant schools but also hospitals, political parties and even TV channels). Apparently another club had originally been Jewish.

Photos: Martin Paasman and Helena Smalman-Smith.

San Diego to Ensenada

We were in San Diego for six days, mostly socializing with friends, provisioning and doing a few minor projects on the boat. We were graciously hosted by our friends at Southwestern Yacht Club for four days, then we moved over to San Diego YC. On Sunday, January 12th, we departed SDYC at 0645 with our good friends Tom and Mary Ellen aboard for what turned out to be a quick ride to Ensenada. 

The fog was thick as we motored slowly down the channel toward open water. By 1000 it was beginning to lift a bit and a very light breeze sprang up out of the northwest. A bit before noon we crossed the border into Mexico and hoisted the Mexican flag. Shortly after that we were approached by a Mexican patrol boat and ordered to heave to. With all of the controversy over foreign boats in Mexican waters, we didnt know quite what to expect as we drew alongside the dangerous looking patrol boat, which was manned by ten or twelve well armed sailors and immigration officers. They ordered us to present our papers and after a quick review of them, they handed them back and wished us a good voyage as we pulled away from their boat. It is my policy to be friendly and cooperative with the Mexican authorities and it turned out to be a very friendly encounter on all sides. 

It stayed fairly cold all day. The wind began to build in the afternoon and by 1400 it was around 20 knots and coming straight over the transom as we passed the big LNG terminal on the northwest corner of Todos Santos Bay. We had unrolled the jib earlier to help steady the boat in the light air and lumpy swells, and with the knotmeter hitting 10s we sailed dead downwind the last few miles under the jib alone toward the harbor mouth, which we entered a few minutes after 1500.  Finisterra was secured to her berth in Cruiseport Marina a short while later and by 1600 we were enjoying a cold beverage in the cabin. 

That evening Toms friend, Juan Hussong drove us to his restaurant, Sanos, which overlooks the bay near the Coral Hotel and Marina. There we had a splendid steak dinner and enjoyed Juans stories of his life as a fisherman, boatbuilder and restauranteur. 

The next morning we went to the Port Captains office and officially entered the beautiful country of Mexico. By coincidence, one of the officers who had been on the patrol boat the day before came into the office and greeted us with a friendly smile. Once all the paperwork was done, passports stamped, fishing licenses and import permit secured, it was lunchtime and we walked a few blocks to the Mahi Mahi restaurant for tacos and beer. After lunch we said goodbye to Tom and Mary Ellen, who had to catch a bus back to San Diego, and walked back to the boat, stopping along the way at the Telcel store to set up our Mexican phones and internet access. 

It turned out to be a beautiful, balmy afternoon. We washed down the boat, took long luxurious showers and, with sundowners in hand, walked the docks in the marina checking out the boats. Many were unfamiliar, but some we knew from the last time we were here. One interesting boat was Nereida, the boat that Jeanne Socrates recently sailed nonstop around the world. 

Tomorrow were headed inland to do some wine tasting in the Guadalupe Valley. 

Bahia Chamela

The Honcho finally cleared the breakwater in La Cruz, bound for Bahia Chamela around 1600 on Thursday, Jan. 27th. Our course took us southwestward across Banderas Bay and around Cabo Corrientes. We had light air for the first 25 miles, then caught a strong breeze outside the cape and got a good push south. Passing Punta Ipala, we kept on going and arrived at Bahia Chamela, roughly 95 miles down the coast at 0930. We got the hook down in the lee of Punta Perula just off the village of the same name. The anchorage here affords good protection from northerly winds and swells but is exposed to southerly weather, which is more likely to occur in summer months than this time of year. Well hang out here and explore for a couple of days before continuing on to Tenacatita. 

Nicholson 48

I’m not really a fan of centre cockpit yachts, but the exception proves the rule as they say. The first time we went aboard a Nicholson 48 was in Scotland Bay, Trinidad. Growler monkeys could be heard among the steep and thickly wooded shore as we rowed over to swap some books, our conversation led to an early evening beer and on to a dram from the ships supply of single malt.



Our hosts proudly showed us around their boat and what we discovered was a strongly built and hugely practical long distance cruiser. Designed in the 1970’s for serious offshore cruising the Nicholson has a full, encapsulated keel, comfortable motion and well planned accommodation. With a sail area to displacement of 12.07 the Nic is perhaps a little under canvassed but the ketch rig, with everything in board, is easy to work with a small crew. The deep centre cockpit with permanent cover works equally well offering protection and security from the in the blazing Caribbean heat or the cold, wet waters of the Western Isles.



Although the styling places the Nicholson firmly in the 1970s – touches such as the venetian blinds seen on many examples, the design has a timeless quality and an image which speaks of quality and fitness for purpose which has aged well.

LOA 47 6"
LWL 34 3"
Beam 12
Draft 7 or 55" (shoal draft version)
Displacement 31,300lbs
SA/Dis 12.07
Bal/Dis .32

Seats fitted

The seats are all fitted to the boat. The glue is cured on the supports, the vertical supports have been cut to fit (they will be glued next session) and the seats are in place. The side-arms for BH2 and 4 are cut and ready to be glued. The knees are cut and almost finished. Inwale spacers are cut, the inwales need to be scarfed and theyll be ready too. Things are moving.

Heres a great example why you want to diagram out the dimensions of the front seat per the plans, and then trace something to what youve actually got in the boat before you cut:


Unless youre a very gifted woodworker, of which there are many out there (this is an AMATEUR BLOG, remember?) tracing will be beneficial. The dark black lines are per the plans for the GIS. What you see is what my front seat ended up being to fit in the bow. A little wider up front, very close in the middle, and then wide again in the rear. Ive got a few ideas how this came about, but Im glad I didnt just cut and then try to fit it only to find huge gaps both in the boat and in my wallet as I shelled out 60 bucks for another sheet of ply. This is not a big deal in the end, its truly a slight variation of shape up front, and so it goes.

Heres a few exposures of my beautiful craft as she comes together. Looking good!

A the spectacular mega yacht designed by Philippe Starck

The French designer, Philippe Starck is best known for his furniture and kitchen gadget designs, including his iconic lemon juicer. He is not, as far as I know, a naval architect, yet the most exciting and, to my mind, most beautiful of the worlds billionaire mega-yachts has its origin on Starcks drawing board.

Starck, whose work ranges from designing boutique hotels, the Virgin Galactic “spaceport” as well as that stylish juicer, claims to have come up with the idea for “A”, as the yacht is called, in 3½ hours. Naval architects, including Britain’s Martin Francis, and Blohm and Voss, the German shipbuilders, then took over and adapted the design project.

Starck always insists that form must follow function – in other words the purpose for which an object is designed should dictate its shape. This 5,900 ton, 390 ft. yachts shape is reminiscent of a battleship crossed with a submarine. Evidently Starck appreciated that a yacht is, in essence, a big boys toy, and that for this big boy, Russian billionaire owner Andrey Melnichenko, 36, only the biggest, “baddest” looking toy battleship on the boating pond would do.

Apart from sheer stylish looks, the clean lines of the exterior answer another function – that of security. The lack of any external features such as rails, handholds, or openings makes it very difficult for pirates or other undesired visitors to board the ship. For the same reason, the helicopter pad on the bow is easily rendered unusable by extending a telescopic mast through the deck. Clamshell doors hide all the access points, including the garage for the 2 launches, extending harbour gangways and even the anchor cable fairleads.

The yachts twin engines deliver 24,000 hp for a 24 knot cruising speed and a 6,500 mile range. Accommodation includes a palatial (quite literally) owners suite, 6 luxurious double guest cabins, and quarters for 37 crew plus 5 of the owners personal staff, secretaries, assistants, etc.

The yacht is variously said to have cost $200 to $300 million. Crew salaries, maintenance and running costs are unlikely to be less than another 5 to 10 million a year. So, its not enough to be very rich indeed - Wayne Rooney rich, for instance - to own this yacht. You need to be able to spend twice Waynes annual salary, every year, just to run it. Fortunately for Mr. Melnichenko, whose wealth is conservatively estimated at $2-3 billion, he can.

Obviously the interior décor is super palatial. I wont even try to describe it. You can find more details in the Wall Street Journal video and on the sites to which I have linked below. But the accessory I really like, and which makes me warm greatly to the scarily rich Mr. Melnichenko, is the uncompromising design of the yachts twin 30 ft. motor-launch tenders. He could easily have bought a couple of off-the-shelf plastic speedboats, and in spite of the fact that each one of these beauties probably cost as much as a very nice house in Torremolinos, he clearly would have nothing that was not rare and spectacular for his yacht. This, for Mr Melnichenko was probably no more of an extravagance than my purchase of a pair of shiny bronze rowlocks, instead of perfectly serviceable plain galvanised, for my 10 ft rowing dinghy.

As another great designer once said, “God is in the detail”.

Links:

Italian saint-andres blog story

Sunday Times Article

FrankenBoom!

I built my boom originally as a temporary boom to get me on the water ASAP.  How does that old saying go?  "There is nothing so permanent as a temporary fix" or something like that.

Anyway, that temporary boom has been quite permanent on my Goat Island Skiff for the next two sailing seasons.  It has always been a little wobbly, especially since I use my sail loose-footed.  The tension along the foot slightly distorts the boom and I do lose some power.

I decided this winter to finally fix this boom.  Originally I was going to build a fancy shmancy box boom like many of my Goat Island Skiff compatriots.  I went over to Goose Bay Lumber and purchased a bunch of cedar for $63 and cut it into a bunch of strips only to realize it would be way wobbly. So then I got some Doug Fir for $15 and cut it up and put together another box boom, but I still wasnt happy with it.

So screw it!  I decided to take my old boom and slap on one of those DF strips to the top of my boom, to compliment the lower horizontal piece.  I am proud of my laziness.  BEHOLD FRANKENBOOM!

All mocked up!

All glued up!

All sanded up!

So, this boom is definitely stiffer than the old temporary boom.  It is also heavier, but not by much.  I am happy with the results and will test it out this year on my Adventures-- of which there will be more than last year because there is a modicum amount of income flowing into my coffers.

That being said I have some very nice strips of western red cedar, no knots, 12 long, for sale.

On a side, the inrepid reader may also be interested in following my slow-poke restoration of my Beverly Dinghy.

The Cockpit Project Replacing the Teak Decking

Finisterra arrived at her new home on June 26th and we took a few days to unload cruising gear and get moved back into the house. Then I got right to work on the biggest project on my work list, replacing the teak in and around the cockpit and transom.

The teak doesnt look too bad in the photos but it is pretty well worn down between the caulking lines and occasionally offers up a splinter. There are also rows of bronze staple ends that are beginning to emerge from the teak in several areas. 

The dots in the foreground are staple ends sticking up through the wood. 

I think the way Beneteau makes the teak panels is to lay the teak planks on a table with the caulking grooves on the bottom, then staple them together to make panels. After the planks are stapled together into panels, they flip them over and fill in the grooves with silicone caulking. This makes the finished panels flexible enough to conform to the curvature in the seats. Then they fit the panels into recesses in the deck, bedding them in what looks like black 3M 4000 Polyether adhesive.

It was fairly easy to pry the teak off the deck, but much more labor intensive to remove the black adhesive. I finally resorted to a set of sharp chisels to scrape the black gummy adhesive off the fiberglass. The bead around the perimeter is similar to Dow 795 silicone and was fairly easy to remove with a razor knife and a chisel.

In this photo the teak has been removed, but you can see a few spots where some of it stuck to the adhesive. Notice the parts where there are vertical lines. Beneteau applied the adhesive with a serrated trowel and then bedded the teak in the stuff. You can see where the teak was actually in contact with it and where it wasnt. You can also see the bead of silicone around the perimeter.

To get the teak off, I first cut the silicone around the perimeter with the razor, then using the hammer, carefully drove a chisel in between the edges of the teak and the fiberglass.  Once it was started, I could drive the screwdriver further under the teak and pry up large chunks or complete planks of it.

Here you can see where I have removed the adhesive from part of the portside cockpit seat. 

To remove the adhesive, I used a razor knife to scribe sectional lines into it, then worked a sharp chisel between the adhesive and the fiberglass. I was able to remove most of it this way. Then I used the chisel to scrape off as much of the remaining adhesive as possible. Later I will sand the rest of it off.

It took several long days to get all the adhesive off the deck. It was fairly dull work but there is a lot going on in the industrial part of the harbor and I often paused to watch as ships came in to unload their cargoes from all over the world, then reload and head out to sea again. There was also no shortage of interested passersby, many of whom stopped to check my progress and offer advice, so the days passed quickly and before long the job was done.

I decided to replace the teak with PlasDECK synthetic teak instead of real teak for several reasons, not the least of which was the cost. The price Beneteau quoted for replacement teak panels was a little north of $3,000, while the synthetic material runs about $1,000. But price is only part of the reason for choosing PlasDECK. Its made of recycled plastic and I like the idea of putting less plastic in landfills. It is easier to keep clean and is quite durable. Of course no knowledgeable person is going to mistake synthetic for real teak, but Im okay with that. You can learn more about this material by visiting Plasteak.com.

The next step was to make templates for the replacement panels. I used 6 mil poly sheeting as pattern material, and glued it in place with a light spray of aerosol contact cement. Then I inscribed the outline of the perimeter of each piece along with all the other information the manufacturer needs to fabricate the replacement panels. Ill send them off tomorrow morning and in about three weeks the panels will be delivered.

The pattern material is temporarily glued in place, then marked with all the necessary information.

Its important that the "caulking lines" of the new panels line up properly so the patterns were carefully marked to show where they should be.

While Im waiting for the finished panels Ill have lots of time to finish removing the black adhesive from the seats and maybe even spend a couple of days at the Island.

The Cortez Melonseed

Max told you of the Melonseed Nancy Lee from Indiana. There is a development of this diminutive 13 foot duck boat in Florida designed by Roger Allen. It is called the 16 footer, but is actually 15.5 feet long, over-all.







Mick Wick, who is the publisher of the quarterly journal of the Traditional Small Craft Association and an avid Melonseed fan, sent me some photos of himself defeating all comers in a recent race celebrating the sixth Great Florida Gulf Coast Small Craft Festival in a borrowed Melonseed, YeeHaw.



Mike is busy building his own Melonseed, so weve invited him to check in when hes done.



The next set of photos are of the Marshcat Comfort belonging to Doug Oeller, a friend of Mikes, also entered in the same "race".

A bit larger, it is another modern adaptation of the traditional shallow draft hunting and fishing designs from the Delaware River Basin, just south of New York City.














If youd like to know more about these historic gaff rigged "duck boats" please visit the Traditional Small Craft of New Jersey and the Delaware River Basin.

Rudder stock design 4 Mast gluing

In yet another installment of "I try to re-design the rudder stock" I have received yet another set of plans from a Goat Island Skiff builder in New York.  He has graciously supplied me with these two schematics of his own design, as a solution to removing the tiller from the rudder assembly without having to take the rudder off the transom.  It is self-explanatory:

I really like this design, it is better than mine for two reasons:  1. It maintains Mr. Storers rudder stock design and hopefully solves the structural issue that he was concerned about, 2. There is less time fiddling over the transom pulling very critical pins over water of yet-to-be-determined depth, if you get my drift.  I can remove the tiller from the safety of the cabin.  Unfortunately, I will still have a stub of tiller sticking into my domain, but I think, for now, this is the idea Im going to go with.  The great thing about the rudder stock is that it is simple and easy to construct, I can always make another.

In other news, the mast was glued in its first step today.  In the previous post, I shaped the narrow staves.  This was a workout, but I worked carefully, and Im happy with the result.  Then, off to make the spacers for the ladder frame.  I used a piece of fir that was lounging around the garage, some stud material.  I used some good parts, and cut them to fit.  The base plug meant a trip to Lowes.  This is the first wood part of the boat that was not bought at either of my two local lumber stores.  Sorry guys.  Anyway, an 8 piece of 4x4 cedar.  I thought about using fir, for a few bucks less, but I went with the rot-resistant cedar.  Its an important piece, its light, and it should be good.  The other spacers Ill goo up with epoxy and make them plastic.

Well, that was interesting how the photos lined up, but I like it!  Notice the base plug.  After a quick mock-up my lovely wife and I took one of the uncut stave stock pieces and brought it into the basement, where I can get an even floor workspace and a slightly higher temperature, better for quicker gluing.  We made sure that we could get the wood in and out of the basement two different ways, so I dont build the mast and then get it out.  I am positive I can get the mast out of the basement.

Layed out ready for the dry fit:

Sweet, I did it again, but I dont know how.  The mast is quite straight, but I decided to use one of the wide uncut staves as a backbone for gluing, that way I could ensure that the mast is straight with no wobbles.  It also gives me a good even workspace for gluing too.  I covered one stave with packing tape, and glued away:  Notice too, the hardwood runners that will be glued to the bottom of the hull, they are long ones and needed to be scarfed.

It went well.  The bricks are slightly nudging the mast into a straight position.  Youll also notice that you dont see much of the wide stave underneath this glue-up, thats because the tolerances are super tight.  I overcut my narrow staves by 1mm and it pretty much ate up all the space on the wide stave.  I briefly considered re-planing the staves, re-working the spacers, and then gluing, but my lovely wife stopped me with some business graduate degree mumbo-jumbo stuff and talked me out of it.  I might have to plane a little extra off the base to get it to fit in the mast step, and I can (with difficulty) enlarge the mast step as well if need be.

Tomorrow, gluing the wide staves and completing the box.
 

Gluing BH2 3

This morning I glued up BH2 and BH3, this time precoating the pieces with straight up epoxy and then mixing a thicker glue with the silica which makes me cough like the dickens, hopefully that stuff isnt setting up in my lungs. Things definitely went a little smoother this morning. One person over at the Storer forum suggested drilling small holes and dropping in some nails in the holes to hold the pieces laterally. I did exactly that this morning, and it works quite well, I am pleased with the result. Unfortunately, haste makes waste and I put one piece on upside down, so I turned it around and applied more glue after ripping it up, and a put another piece down 180 deg. of what I wanted, but it works in that position anyway but not as aesthetically pleasing, so I left it in place. The side arms on BH3 also extend all the way up beyond the ply, and I precoated the whole arm even though that was unnecessary. Oops. One more BH to go, and then I can tackle that transom.

My big day

Today was quite the day. Im over my cold, as in, I dont feel like super-crap anymore, but my head and chest are still congested to hell and back. However, since Im slowly on the up and up, off to the basement for a little R+R.

Last night I realized that I had beveled the bottom of BH1 in the wrong direction. Today I fixed this by re-beveling it flat, and just leaving it as such until later. If I have to bevel it in the correct direction, so be it. Its only 2mm so its not too tricky.

Second, I found this:

Delamination in the ply on my Starboard bow, inboard. Approximately 4"x6" or so. Nothing on the "mated" side, the Port stern, so Im assuming it is only this piece that has the problem. I sounded it out with a pencil, and Ive got a good idea of its shape. I poured straight epoxy into the hole, then squashed it with bricks.

Third, I discovered this:


Thats my finger pointing at where the bow SHOULD be. OOPS. Im slowly coming along with the dreaded stem, and I went to match the stem to the bow and it came up a couple of cm short. Either my stem was wrong or my bow was wrong. I busted out the lofting map for the sides and for some damn reason, I measured 55mm from the end of the ply to the point of the bow rather than 55mm from the last 300mm mark. Damn, bro, good catch! So I re-marked the bow and cut them anew on both sides. The stem fits perfectly now, with room to spare for the bow knee.

Then, I got gutsy and ripped two of my cedar planks and and scarfed them for the chinelogs:

This is my scarf. Some of you are really going to hate this, but I eyeballed it on the table saw, and then planed them to match. Not perfect, but close enough for this amateur! I used a 1:6 ratio, so that would be 1 1/2" : 9".

THEN, I cut out the buttstraps and glued my scarfed chinelogs and my side together!


Here we are now in the garage. The buttstrap gluing kinda blew, I was by myself and I rushed it. I was sure I put on enough glue, but very little actually oozed out from underneath the straps. Im actually a little concerned I may not have put enough, but maybe I put just the right amount, I tend to go overboard with the glue. So well have to see about this.

Finally, I glued on a little piece of ply for backing on the transom for el rudder. Thats Spanish. That in itself was a mini-adventure, because the ply I chose for it initially starting sliding around after I glued it up on the old epoxy from the frame and the seat cleat. WOOPS. So I pulled it off quick, tore apart the garbage for an old jigsaw blade, and holding the jigsaw an inch above the ply ripped a small piece of one end so it could sit better between the frame and the cleat. Of course I got wood dust all over the backing, and I scraped it off, threw on some thickened epoxy, and called it good. I thought this would have been a simple operation, so I didnt wear gloves and holey moley my hands got sticky.

On a blog-related note, I am deleting the timing scoreboard from the blog. Its beginning to get inaccurate and more difficult to keep up with. Today I did a million things and Im not keen on attempting to figure out what was what. So maybe from now on just a tally total.