These images at right show the bulkheads in order from the bow (at top) to the transom. Bulkheads C, D, and E were too big to fit on a single sheet of plywood, so I had to form them from 2 sections. I chose to match the sections together at the reference waterline which is clear of any structural members.

A note here on waterlines. There are two: the displacement waterline, where the designer expects the boat to rest in the water when properly loaded, and a reference waterline. Kirby has drawn the reference waterline exactly 1 foot above the displacement one to aid in measuring all of the different components and also to lay out the boat correctly on the strongback. This line, along with the centerline, is drawn on each bulkhead on both sides, making further alignments easy.

The slot cut into bulkheads D and E betrays the location of the centerboard trunk. It is located 1 foot to starboard of the centerline. If it was on the centerline, it would not only severely hamper the area in the cabin, but it would also cut into the cockpit. I remember seeing a beautifully kept catboat many years ago at a wooden boat show in Port Townsend. It looked especially sleek with low freeboard and inconspicuous cabin. Unfortunately the large centerboard trunk come up almost to the cabin top! I am thin, but it would take someone even thinner to utilize what little space there was below. Kirby has done a good job here to remedy this problem without much detriment to performance. I don't expect the centerboard to show above the waterline unless the boat is pressed over 35° or more to port.

The funny notch in Bulkhead F is also centerboard related, allowing the block and tackle that raises the board to run back to Bulkhead G. Both F and G show the shape of the cockpit and coaming. The cockpit seat is level, but the floor slopes down to the transom.

Also quite evident from these bulkhead photos is the distinctive sharpie hull shape known for ease of construction.

Here is a closeup of the transom, looking at the inboard side. The glued section is reinforcing for the gudgeons. The 2 holes are cockpit drains. Just visible are the lines drawn for where the cockpit will meet the transom.

This shows both sides of Bulkhead E, the topmost being the forward side. Notice the butt blocks for joining the top half of the bulkhead to the bottom half. It is 6" wide so it overlaps both sides by 3". The vertical buttblock is for reinforcing. I plan to put a big U-bolt on the aft side to use for safety harnesses. I figured that having some extra wood there wouldn't hurt. The butt blocks at the cabintop curve is common to all of the cabin bearing bulkheads.

Looking at the aft side of the bulkhead shows the cleats glued for taking the hull sections. They do not go to the corners because those will be cut out for the chine logs and centerboard trunk bedlogs.

Again, the slot for the centerboard is clearly seen. The other larger hole is to provide access to an otherwise inaccessible space under the cockpit. All the other spaces will be accessible from hatches in the cockpit seats.

This is a picture of Bulkhead D looking at the aft side. This shows the space of the cabin interior. An additional cleat has been glued on the port side to indicate the position of the seat. This is the aforementioned floor that I decided to raise for additional storage space.

I have not cut out the trunk slot completely in this picture so the bulkhead would retain some stiffness. Once the slot is cut the bulkhead is pretty floppy. After it is glued to the trunk, though, the stiffness will return.

These 2 pictures show the centerboard trunk apart and together. The black interior is not paint, but epoxy mixed with graphite powder to give it some sense of lubrication. The interior width is 3/4" and the board will be 1/2" so it won't be that tight fitting.

The extra height on the port side sheet is a small change I made to the building procedure. Since the port side of the trunk coincides with the cockpit, I extended that section to the top of the cockpit seat to give it some continuity and strength.

The hole you see in the aft middle section is where the centerboard control line exits the trunk, and that is also where Bulkhead E is located.

The curve of the hull was measured on one side, and the other side was cut to match. The bedlog at the base of the trunk was not bent, but glued on oversized and then cut to match also.

I had to do all of the glueing of the trunk on my kitchen floor because it was too cold in my garage for the #2 Hardener to set.

The final part of this construction phase is to prepare everything for being assembled on the strongback. Once I glued together the centerboard trunk, I took the liberty of fitting the 4 bulkheads (C, D, E, F) on the trunk. Everything seemed to match up correctly. I didn't see any glaring errors, which is good. I made the cuts for the chine logs in the bulkheads and a few other minor items.

The next step is mostly a mental one. To say goodbye to all my garage space before assembling the strongback. I won't see that space again until I roll out a completed boat maybe a year down the road.

My comment last time about saying goodbye to the garage space has come to fruition as you can tell from this picture. The strongback was built first, which holds each bulkhead in position. I used a rented Dumpy level (like a transit on a tripod) to locate each bulkhead precisely. I couldn't use the garage floor as a guide because like most garages, it is not level. The most difficult bulkhead to position was the transom because it is at a slight angle. After a thousand measurements and adjustments, I finally had it as close as I could. Each bulkhead is held to the strongback with temporary screws. Now, the strongback is supposed to be strong, right? Yes, well, regardless of how strong it is, at this stage each bulkhead wobbles a bit. I didn't worry too much about it because I had a plan to help anchor each with some of the stringers that would eventually be installed anyway.

A note here about measurement tolerances. My goal at the beginning was to build the boat within 1/16 of an inch to the designer's plans. Hah! Further experience has shown me the folly of this idea. I'll be extremely glad if I'm within 1/4 inch or even a half inch in some places. But I'm not worried that I'll have a crooked boat. The critical parts, like bulkhead alignment, I know to be really close.

The next step was to insert the completed centerboard trunk. A moment of heartstoppage was followed by elation when the whole thing slipped into place. Everything matched up, except for a slight twist in the aft part of the trunk that I knew to be correctable. That's the joy and reward of building something like this. Seeing the parts built separately fit together as if divined to be. With that, the serious gluing and screwing began.

This picture gives a scan of the bottom and all of the integral parts. The centerboard trunk anchors 4 bulkheads together solidly. A cockpit stringer, shown in the lower center of the photo anchored the aft bulkheads together. Then it was time for the chine and sheer logs.

The chine and sheer logs are made of Honduras mahogany scarfed together to make a single 20 ft. long board. What I learned about this wood is...it doesn't like to bend. Not only was it supposed to bend around the bulkheads, it also needed to twist somewhat from stern to bow to follow the natural (?) curve of hull sections. I could only think of one solution to this dilemna. The Spanish Windlass. If you are unfamiliar with this concept, become familiar pronto. It is one of the most useful boatbuilding tools I know. Over the span of a couple weeks, I forced the logs into position and then let the area's humidity and heat take care of the rest. When I sprung them free to start the gluing process, they had already assumed most of the shape and didn't need quite the coaxing to get them into their final resting place.

This brought me to my most serious headscratching moment--what to do with the stem. The stem was already cut (oversized) and planed into shape, but it needed to be on an angle like the transom. The strongback didn't extend far enough for me to attach it, so what to do, what to do. I finally screwed a board to the stem that would stand on the floor, and the rest was glued and screwed in the proper position to the sheer and chine logs. Easier said than done, but it eventually did as it was told and was straight on center at the end. I did lots of checks first, because once the glue and screws are in, that's all folks! Very shortly after the logs were glued in place, I quickly worked on installing the hull sides because they would help keep the logs in place as well. I had this recurring nightmare of the glue failing and the logs flying off the hull like a giant spring. It didn't happen.

Putting together the topsides of the hull I once again departed from the building recommendations. Instead of piecing together the panels on the boat, I glued the panels together with butt blocks first and then placed it on the hull all at once. I admit that it's unwieldy to handle a 19 foot long piece of plywood, but I survived. I was familiar with this technique on Failure #1 so I stuck with it.

Now a note about plywood that I alluded to earlier when I was talking about a slight warp in the centerboard trunk. I used Marine Grade Fir plywood for this project. After dealing with a number of different types of ply over the years, I have come to the conclusion that it is impossible to make a 4 X 8 sheet that is perfectly straight and flat. Even if you bring it home flat, a few weeks storage in your garage will invariably turn it into a potato chip. Well, maybe I exaggerate. Fortunately, most surfaces on a boat are not straight, so I've made a habit of seeing how a sheet behaves first and then cutting it where it will follow the shape of the boat.

A note about measuring, cutting, and running out of things. It's always best to glue on a piece too big, then trim it later to size. Glue on too big, trim to size. Glue on too big, trim to size. Well, you get the idea. It's pretty important. One small mistake and it's another trip to the lumber yard to plunk down $200 to try again. Or worse. As for running out of material, make sure you have enough of something before starting a job where you can't stop. I was glueing one of the topside panels when horror of horrors I ran out of collodial silica filler before I got to the end. Since I can't glue this without some form of filler and I couldn't stop part way through, my panic found me using fine sawdust as a substitute. It has similar properties as silica so I wasn't too embarrassed in the end. But lesson learned.

Here is a view of the inside of the boat looking aft from the forward end of the bunk. This gives a better picture of how the bulkheads are attached to the strongback. Although it's a bit disorienting, you will recognize the shape of the bulkheads from the previous page. The center stringer helped secure the forwardmost bulkhead (A) to bulkhead C so it wouldn't wobble while I was installing the chine logs. This stringer will also be part of a longitudinal bulkhead under the bunk that I mentioned on the previous page under construction deviations.

Another view of the space between bulkheads A and C (B is just visible at the bottom of the photo). On the left is one of the 2 butt blocks on each topsides to glue the 3 panels together. The stringer glued on later will hold the bunk. Clearly visible are the chine log on top (of photo), and the sheer log on the bottom. I botched the bracing on the strongback for bulkhead A, not thinking about how the topsides and sheer log would attach. So I had to redo the bracing without moving the positioning. Must have had a special brain aneurysm that day. But my mess to fix it is barely visible here so I'm okay!

This shows the aft section. The transom is on the left, bulkhead G on the right. A longitudinal bulkhead will be attached to the center stringers, dividing the part under the cockpit into 2 compartments. This part will be done after the boat is turned over and before the cockpit is assembled. More visible here is a white epoxy fillet along the connection of the topsides to the bulkhead. Plywood is extremely sensitive to water entering the end-grain so I've religiously sealed every joint. These fillets are perfect for that little bit of left-over epoxy that you don't want to go to waste. All the other surfaces will be coated with epoxy later to further prevent water penetration.

Here's a nice picture of the bow, neatly nestled between my washer and dryer. The brown bag in the corner with the 7 inches of sawdust on top is my golf clubs. The plans call for a 5-1/2 inch radius curve from the stem to the hull bottom. I cut the radius in a scrap piece of plywood to use as a template and then let the belt sander take its toll.

A brief comment here about the stem. I used the plans to figure the angles and shape the stem. It's a bit weird since it has to taper from a wider angle at the sheer to a much narrower angle at the bottom. The moment of truth came when I installed the logs. The top was perfect, but the bottom was not. In reality the angle of the logs was a bit more acute. Some sweating and epoxy filler saved the day, but my advise to future builders is to find what the angles are in reality before cutting the stem. The ol' saying "Your mileage may vary" applies here.

The plans show the 1/2 inch ply bottom extending over this knuckle and up the stem to deck level. Ever try to bend 1/2 inch ply over a 5-1/2 inch radius? Well, even 1/4 inch ply breaks. Taking a clue from Failure #1, I soaked 2 pieces of 1/4 inch ply in hot water and carefully bent them over the radius. The 3-layer ply indicated lots of stress but it didn't fail. After it dried out I glued and screwed them in place, using copious amounts of silica filler. Fir plywood is fairly soft, but when heavily coated with epoxy/silica and then fiberglassed it'll be impervious enough to do a bow proud. Not that I plan on testing it or anything. Sailing will be test enough, I suppose.

Here's a closer look at the port side of the transom. The top shows the chine log and topside plywood has been planed down to match the angle of the hull bottom (basically level with the floor). The other side shows how the ply has still been left oversized. It will remain too long until the deck is ready to be installed. The ply also extended beyond the transom by about 2 inches, but has been sanded down flush in this picture.

Finally, a picture of the sheer looking from the transom forward. If you step away from the monitor a few feet and squint your eyes just right, you can tell what the sheer and cabin/coaming looks like. Actually this might be better in describing the amount of space I have to negotiate when doing things inside and around the hull. My son doesn't have a problem getting around, but he's a bit smaller than I (his tow truck stands ready in the foreground).

More detail on the strongback construction is shown here as well.

At press time the bottom sheet of 1/2 inch plywood has been cut to shape and glued together with butt-blocks. The lead pigs, made by a local castings place, now sit near the bow.

A word here about my evolution on ballast. I have devised a plan to secure the pigs by surrounding them with blocks of wood so they won't move and then lash them in place with lines attached to the blocks. The lashings would keep them from coming adrift during a knockdown or (heaven forbid) a capsize. The lashings will also allow removal during maintenance or a dire emergency. It will be easy to manage the ballast depending on loading, wind conditions, trim, and other circumstances. I won't shift anything once underway, but it allows some flexibility in how the boat can be set up. The designer requires a minimum of 600 lbs. of ballast with notice that the builder could increase it up to 800 lbs. So I purchased 700 lbs. as a reasonable start.

So at the moment I am gluing some 40 blocks to the bottom ply before I attached it to the hull. There are two reasons for this. First, I want to screw everything in place on the entire hull before coating it with fiberglass. That way I won't have to put a screw through the coating later, creating a possible source of moisture ingress. Second, gluing and screwing these blocks upside-down after the bottom is installed would be nigh impossible.

Then the next step will be attaching the bottom and fiberglassing the hull. That will entertain me for the next couple of months. Fiberglassing is something I never did with the other projects, so it will be a new experience. Rest assured that I'll be doing lots of reading up on it before I break out the cloth. After that I'll be doing the "turn-over" ceremony. Hoo-boy!

The 20 oz. stuff went pretty well, but then it was on a largely flat surface. This photo shows the progress. The white section is the cloth that hasn't been wetted out yet. Notice the centerboard trunk is gone. I glassed right over it, cutting it out later. I found that the cloth didn't like to lay flat when I got closer to the stern (I started the saturation process at the bow). After some amount of cussing encouragement, it stuck but was still not smooth. Another dream down the toilet. I figured that if I was careful, everything would be nice and smooth so I wouldn't have to endlessly fair the hull at painting time. Hah!

Okay, next thought. If I put filler in the epoxy when I fill the weave, maybe it will smooth out the lumps. After 5 feet of applying that philosophy, another dream followed down the toilet. It wound up being hard to smooth and was using an inordinate amount of epoxy. So even more fairing is now required. Aarrghh!

Then it was time for the topsides. This was a bit more challenging because the angle was nearly vertical at the bow, becoming less so toward the stern. Once I started to roll the cloth on the port side, it became apparent that my technique in Step 1 was tremendously flawed. The cloth wanted to stick, but not where I wanted it to, so there was an infernal amount of time spent adjusting and trying to move the cloth. Again starting at the bow, the coating process created bumps in the cloth starting about halfway back. A tremendous flaw in Step 3. But since everything was now stuck, so was I. The bottom layer of 10 oz. went quick with no problems, but then I didn't expect any. The starboard topside, though, was where I had a chance to redeem myself.

Indeed, I attacked the last part with an adjusted process:

1. Coat bare plywood with epoxy. Let it become hard.
2. Roll on the fiberglass. Adjust as necessary so everything lays flat, using tape if necessary .
3. Starting in the middle, coat liberally with epoxy, using a squeegy to spread around the excess.
4. Let it harden for 24 hours.
5. Coat with more epoxy, filling the weave.
6. Done, break out...um...okay, just listen to the stereo with a root beer.

Low and behold the starboard side is a work of art. Several days later I finished off the transom. The sections where the cloth bubbled up I cut out with a razor blade and filled in with epoxy and silica. That'll fix 'em!

Time for the Turn Over?!? Nope, not just yet. I wanted to attach the skeg first. The skeg was a scarfed 17 ft. length of poplar with the outside edges routered smooth. (No, I haven't sprung for a router, I just used a woodworking friend's machine.) Soon after I glued and screwed it down, I planed the ends so there was a smooth transition from the skeg to the hull. I had some sections of 10 oz. fiberglass cloth left over from the bottom job, so I pieced together enough to glass the forward 2/3 of the skeg. That should take the most abuse during a grounding or beaching. The rest was coated liberally so everything was sealed up. Then it was officially time for the...

Turn Over

So on a foggy dark night, I began. The plan was simple. The next two photos show it clearly. An endless loop of rope was run under the bow and through blocks in the ceiling. I used a 3:1 purchase shown in the middle of each picture to adjust the tension. Another loop ran under the stern.

After tightening them as much as I could, I started the exciting process of detaching the strongback from each bulkhead.

Slowly each support was dismantled and eventually, the boat was fully supported by the rope slings. I cleared out the rest of the strongback, swept up, and this picture shows the result.

Now for the turning. I simply grabbed the starboard rail and started pulling up. The boat turned very smoothly until the port gunwale came to rest on the garage floor. Hmm. Obviously I had to raise the boat some so the whole boat would clear the floor. Time to take some pictures.

Here we see both sides of the boat. Well shown is the newly installed skeg and the cutout for the centerboard.

So I huffed and puffed on the bow sling to raise the bow up 2 ft. Once clear of the floor, the hull really wanted to turn upright. It took some effort to hold it back so the rest of the journey would not be a violent one. Turning continued inch by inch and then it was...

Upright!

Letting it down on the precut blocks was a breeze.

I would have celebrated, but at that point I was too tired. I went to bed instead. But I was extremely satisfied with how everything worked out. I was able to turn over an 18 ft. by 6.5 ft object weighing 400-450 lbs. by myself without even breaking a sweat. Pardon me while I break my arm patting myself on the back.

This whole event occured almost exactly 1 year after I started cutting the first piece of wood. Time spent so far is about 200 hours.

The new perspective inspired more work. Now at least I can see what I'm doing. First up was installing the longitudinal bulkhead under the cockpit, shown here.

Decisions made a long time ago show up here. Remember the extended panel on the centerboard trunk on Page 1? It's here at the left corner as part of the cockpit wall. I love it when a plan comes together.

These pictures show the basic interior between bulkheads E, D, and C. Visible here are the blocks that I glued in to stabilize the lead ingot ballast. Eyestraps will be screwed to the blocks so that the ingots can be lashed in place with rope. I fiberglassed the ingot locations without filling the weave so it would provide a non-skid surface. Even if they do move around a little, the chafe will be on the glass, not the hull ply itself.

So I huffed and puffed on the bow sling to raise the bow up 2 ft. Once clear of the floor, the hull really wanted to turn upright. It took some effort to hold it back so the rest of the journey would not be a violent one. Turning continued inch by inch and then it was...

Upright!

Letting it down on the precut blocks was a breeze.

I would have celebrated, but at that point I was too tired. I went to bed instead. But I was extremely satisfied with how everything worked out. I was able to turn over an 18 ft. by 6.5 ft object weighing 400-450 lbs. by myself without even breaking a sweat. Pardon me while I break my arm patting myself on the back.

This whole event occured almost exactly 1 year after I started cutting the first piece of wood. Time spent so far is about 200 hours.

This picture is very similar to the 4th picture on Page 2, only the boat is right-side-up. This also shows the longitudinal bulkhead that I mentioned in my Deviations section. It will provide additional support for the bunk, as well as strength for the bottom hull panel.

My plan for the next few months is fairly chaotic. The builder's instructions call for epoxy coating, installing the bunks and cabin carlins, but I have lots of little details to attend to which I'll work on in no particular order. I've started cutting the bunks to see what I've left for material.

One comment about material. Different designers have different philosophies when it comes to helping the neophyte. Wharram not only gives a material list, but shows you exactly how to lay out each piece so you minimize waste*. Kirby just gives an approximation of what each piece will consume (Blkhd B = 0.25 sheet, Blkhd C = 0.3 sheet, etc.) then adds them all up. So you blithely walk into the lumber supplier and say "Gimme 13.5 sheets of 3/8 ply!" like the plans indicate. Down the road, the error of this method becomes clear when you try to cut odd shaped pieces out of even odder shaped scrap and it doesn't work. This is why I've just bought material as I've gone along, but you won't get any volume discounts doing this. The amount of waste really depends on where the material goes, but figure on at least 15% - 20% waste to be safe.

Here's my H. Hornblower picture where I imagine myself sitting in the cockpit and sailing into the sunset between my washer and dryer. There's something not quite right about that dream, but I haven't figured it out yet. Maybe it's that the only water here is inside the heater off the starboard bow.

My plan was to use up my supply of 1/4" ply to put the cabinsides together. Since we're getting down to the short strokes I don't want to buy more material than I need. The side stringer is still oversized (or stands proud, as traditionalists say); it will need to be planed down to match the cabintop. At this stage, there are precious few measurements listed in the building instructions. Mainly because you don't need them. Most measurements are taken off the boat and transfered to the material. It takes a bit longer, but at least everything fits in the end.

Obviously my camera angles haven't improved much. It's a bit limiting when the boat fills up the whole working space (have I mentioned that before?). So you'll have to bear with me until I can get the whole contraption into a different setting.

This picture shows how the interior is progressing. The bunk platform has been glued and screwed down. The things left to do in this picture are glueing the port "head", the starboard "galley", and the hand lockers on each side (located below the porthole in the cabin side).

Everything has been glued together with an eye that it serves a structural function. So each seam is glued, screwed down every 7 - 8 inches, and then given an epoxy/silica fillet. The designer's notes mention the need to distribute torsional stresses by installing the furniture and deck so they form one homogeneous unit with the hull. I can say that the hull itself is pretty solid right now, based on how things went in the Turn Over. Now with the bunks, and eventually the deck, it should go from pretty solid to rock solid.

Here's a picture of the "head" on the port side. You can see the installed eyestraps that will help hold the lead ingots in place. Also slightly visible here is the epoxy coating mixed with white pigment. It's not pretty, but I'm looking for sealing properties here, not beauty. The white pigment was intended to make it look slightly finished, but as you can see, my formula isn't quite right (More pigment, Igor! More pigment!). By the time I finished the last coating near the stern, I had the shade to just about what I wanted.

This picture that shows the cockpit coaming carlins. A rope stretches across the ends because they aren't supported until the plywood portion is glued in. Speaking of plywood, the outside coaming and the cabin side is theoretically all one piece. I stopped at Blkhd E for now because it was a good place to divide the fore and aft sections. Plus it's easier to deal with smaller pieces of wood than larger (remember the topside hull panels...Uck).

For the outside coaming ply, I measured and cut the starboard side plywood first, then used it as a template for the port side. Hopefully this would make each side exactly the same curve (see boat profile on the Boat Page). For those places where the coaming carlin didn't match the curve cut in the ply, I forced it in place during the glueing/screwing, then sanded it smooth later.

This picture also shows another development in space reduction; my 3 bicycles now hang from the ceiling near the port bow. My son's bicycle handlebars are just visible in the lower right corner. Huh? Oh, right...I've mentioned the space problem before.

We'll start off here by showing a picture of the interior again, this time with the lockers in place (the piece below the elliptical porthole) along with the head and galley tops glued in. All surfaces have been coated with epoxy in preparation for a primer coat. Contrary to most everything else, the bottom of the lockers are not held in place by a cleat. I had to anchor them in place with a couple of nails while I applied a fillet on one side. After that solidified I pulled the nails and put another fillet on the other side.

Also visible here are fiddles installed on both the head and galley (shown in the lower left corner of the pic). Hopefully these will help keep things from flying around in a seaway. Later I will install several padeyes around the head hatch so I can tie things down, like a stove or porta-potti.

Time for the cabin top. Here's the first sight of my lead ingots, put to good use to hold down the 1/4-in. plywood until I can get all the screwholes drilled. Despite the amount of curvature and having a bit of compound curve near the forward end, the ply never complained. Warning - this stuff is 3 ply; the grain of 2 veneers run in the same direction. That means it will bend easier along one axis than the other. In this picture the grain of the 2 veneers is fore and aft.

One thing to be careful of here is making sure that all surfaces of the ply are snug up against all supports when you pre-drill the screw-holes. Also, start at one end and progress to the other. Otherwise you run the risk of the screw-holes not lining up properly.

And here are both sides completed, trimmed and sanded clean. The second half was more challenging because I couldn't use C-clamps on the center stringer. Instead I had to use 4 or 5 screws. Not a big problem, just a bit more awkward.

Now I had a choice. I could either glass the cabintop and then install the hatchrails, or the other way around. I decided to put on the hatchrails first, because I prefer to have wood to wood glue joints wherever possible. Whether this really makes any difference, I don't know. The only other thing left on the cabintop will be the handrails, and I'll put those on after I glass.

After this stage, I had to put a doubler in the inside aft 12 in. of the cabintop. This is designed to provide reinforcement for the cleats that will hold the running rigging. So the question was, how do I glue a piece of ply on an inside curve without punching holes in for screws and nails? I came up with some "stilts" that I could rest against the furniture inside and force the ply into position. Well, I guess it's hard to describe without seeing it, but it was a pretty simple setup.

Through the miracle of time elapse photography, here we have a sequence of how the cockpit went together.

Here's a closer look at the cockpit seats. Each hatch has a frame around it to help seal it from water ingress. Although the aftmost hatch looks restrictive, it's still big enough to be able to reach most of the compartment below it. Remember that I have no limberholes in the bulkheads, so water will have to be sponged out from each section. The other hatch openings are big enough to reach everything easily. That comes as a relief, since I was concerned about having to become a monkey to retrieve an errant item underway.

The coaming carlin is still overlong after glueing the outside ply in place. I trimmed it down before glueing the inside coaming section.

Looking on the other side of the coaming, here's a closeup of the oar socket. There is still a 5/8-in thick rail cap to be glued on the top of the coaming, which is why the block sticks up a little bit. My intention here is to reinforce the oarlock location and spread the load over a wider area. Whether this is enough will become apparent when I actually use them. If I rip them off, well, I built the boat, so I think I can handle fabricating another solution.

It's hard to tell here, but the oarlock is installed at a slight down angle. I drew a diagram of the boat and a set of 9.5 ft. oars to see what it would look like. Due to the freeboard, it's a pretty good angle. So I set the socket around 8 degrees so it would prevent the oars from binding on the oarlocks.

So let's talks decks since we can see some deck next to the coaming. This picture shows the foredeck after it was glued in place. A butt-block is glued to the underside to take the next deck section. You can see primer on the interior. The next deck pieces I primed and painted the undersides since it would be more difficult to do it when they are installed. But there is a hazard with this plan. After they are glued in place, there is more filleting done inside. Those fillets, and other missed spots, have to be primed and painted also. In the process, epoxy, primer, and paint drips onto the parts already painted. So I have to go back and repeat the whole process again. So after doing the starboard side like that, I'm glueing on the port deck with just an epoxy coating. I'll take care of all the remaining priming and painting in one shot.

Speaking of painting, I've pretty much stuck to my proposed plan on the previous page. According to the Interlux literature I only needed one coat of primer (yes!). After 2 coats of the enamel, I think I'll probably need another coat in certain places to make everything look, well, truly snazzy.

Before I leave the foredeck, I've received the mast tube and associated metal pieces from a local machine shop. I needed the tube to accurately cut the hole in the deck and the brace near the mast step. Once cut, I was able to fit everything in place with satisfaction. I won't permanently install this part until after the deck is fiberglassed, primed and painted.

And finally, this picture shows 2 things completed--the hatchrails and the whole starboard deck. I'll say right up front that the fact that the hatchrails are perfectly parallel is a complete fluke. Measuring with accuracy on a slowly adjusting curved surface was hard work. I just did my best and crossed my fingers.

And the deck? Easy as pie. I used those cut templates that I described before and they helped tremendously. On the underside I have glued reinforcement blocks for cleats (the horn variety) and U-bolts. The U-bolts will be used to tie down a boom tent (an upgrade that I'll eventually get but I'm planning for it now) or an occasional fender. I also glued a couple of blocks for potential stanchions for lifelines. I don't plan to put lifelines on this boat, but if I'm forced to (at gunpoint), I'll have the extra strength there.

I can't describe the feeling of satisfaction after putting on the deck and standing back to admire it. It seems like getting it fully enclosed is the first step to getting its personality. No longer is it a random pile of boards cut at strange angles, or a skeleton with no comfortable way of getting around. It now has a skin to show the true purpose of its design.

Another thing has happened that is purely an illusion. Before, it looked ungainly, huge, any moment about to swallow my garage. Now it looks a lot smaller, a lot more manageable, and the garage doesn't look so threatened. I'm sure that when I move the boat outside, it will look vastly smaller, at the launch ramp a small toy, on the ocean a minute plankton. But it will be my plankton that I had fun creating.

At press time I'm about to finish the rest of the deck, then I'll finish the priming and painting of the inside. After that I'll have no choice but to fiberglass the deck, the cabintop, and the cockpit. Oh, Boy!

This picture shows how everything looks on the cabintop.  The handrails were made in 2 pieces because it conforms to a pretty good bend.  The pad between the handrail and the hatchframe near the aft end is for a small winch and 2 cleats.  I didn't put one on the other side.

This shows a bit more detail of the hatch. The plans suggest installing stainless steel pieces on the hatch to help it slide along the rail.  I've decided not to do this for now; I'll wait to see how much it wears.  I do know that shiny metal sitting under the summer sun becomes really hot, so I'm trying to avoid that situation.  Epoxy doesn't like extreme heat. I designed the hatch so it can be slid forward off the rails at any time.

Turn Over II - The Sequel

I got a number of comments over the last year questioning why I had decided to turn the hull before I had completely finished the bottom and topsides. My answer was that I wanted to do the sanding and painting all at once, and since the turn over process was fairly easy I could do it several times. Not much wisdom involved here. But as I proceeded with attaching the deck, I found that my decision did indeed contain great wisdom. As I worked around the gunwale with the deck, fiberglass, and finally, the trim, little rivulettes of epoxy would run down the topsides. Had it been painted I would have had quite a bit of resanding and repainting to do (not to mention another problem detailed below).

I used the same technique as before, with some slight modifications. I reinforced the blocks in the ceiling, and used the mainsheet and boom vang blocks for more purchase to raise the boat. As expected, the line around the stern was tight enough to play a tune. Last time I didn't sweat; this time I did. The boat now weighs an estimated 850 to 900 lbs. and was no easy task to turn it by myself. Memo to me: Get help for the final turn-over.

I got a question of how I supported the boat after I turned it over.  It was pretty simple--shown in this picture.  Four sets of these concrete blocks held up the boat and wood boards were placed on the top to protect the deck from the rough surface of the blocks.

After it sat on the blocks for a bit, I checked to see if there was any deformation of the deck around the blocks indicating too much stress.  There was none.  This boat is pretty strong so far.

Now having the hull upside down, I started in working on sanding and cleaning up what I call "pimples". These are small spots where the fiberglass has not adhered to the layer underneath so it shows up as a small discolored blister. As mentioned before I cut them out and filled the remaining space with epoxy filler. In this process I accidentally discovered some sticky goo in one part of the bottom. It didn't make any sense, so I investigated further. Poking my razor blade around I soon discovered that the goo was actually epoxy that had never hardened, and I could easily peel up whole sections of hardened epoxy from the never-hardened epoxy underneath. My reaction was a classic filmmaking moment:

Movie Director: "...and, Action!"

Me: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHH!"

Movie Director: "Cut!"

I kept rooting around and peeling up the top layer, some with 10 oz. fiberglass in the goo, until I got to where the epoxy had bonded correctly all the way through. It came to about 1/2 a square foot in area, but it really made me nervous. Were there other such areas? I checked carefully but everything was sound. So I filled the uneven holes with my usual patch of epoxy and collodial silica. I remember that during the bottom fiberglass job I was mixing up large batches of epoxy. Somewhere during the 10 oz. layer I didn't mix it thoroughly enough and this patch never solidified, although the succeeding layers did. I don't think anything bad would have happened had I never caught it since it was still sealed on all sides and water couldn't penetrate the wood. But it still goes to show that there can be goof-ups here and there. Memo to me: Fire the Quality Assurance Engineer.

Then it was a-painting I do go!  Two coats of the barrier epoxy were applied to the hull, then I taped 2 inches above the waterline and applied 3 coats of one-part polyurethane up to the rail.  I followed the directions to the letter and everything went much easier than I would have thought.  I don't plan to paint the bottom--instead leaving it as white barrier epoxy.  The boat will not be in the water long enough to worry about growth.

The Centerboard

So I got this big chunk of aluminum plate cut by a machine shop to the right shape. But the leading edge is perfectly square. Not exactly hydrodynamic. So on the advice of my neighbor I used my belt sander with 50 grit paper and turned the leading edge into something closer to parabolic. Worked out pretty well and went quicker than I expected. The designer recommends tapering the trailing edge, but since the plate is only 1/2" thick to begin with, I'm not going to worry about it. The machine shop was supposed to drill the holes for the pin and the pennant, but they blew me off. That turned out to be a blessing since it gave me some flexibility of size and location. I hadn't decided until late in the game how the pin would be put together, and it turned out that the pennant attachment had to be moved.

This exercise also gave me my first experience with 3M's 4200 Fast Cure goop. I've chosen 4200 because 5200 is too permanent; I want to be able to undo it at a future date. All deck hardware and attachments will be sealed with 4200, and the centerboard pennant block and pin was an excellent starting point. I learned that the moniker "Fast Cure" means that it starts curing immediately after you purchase it at the chandlery. After buying the larger tube and having it solidify on me after the first application, I bought the smaller tube that has a screw cap so you can seal it back up. Much better.

After some thought on the subject, my plan for the centerboard pin was to eliminate any electrolysis caused by connecting dissimiliar metals in salt water. So I seized upon the idea of using an aluminum bushing between the centerboard and the stainless steel bolt that would hold the whole thing in place. A piece of aluminum conduit did the trick.

Here is the centerboard in its entirety followed by a closeup view of the bushing and centerpin hole.  Notice also how the leading edge looks after having been rounded off.

Now came the really tricky part. After enlisting the help of my bride to install the pennant block inside the case, I was ready to put the board in. Well, let me put it this way: I was ready but the case was not. After struggling to get the board over the slot, it wouldn't go.  "Doctor," I thought, "I'm feeling a severe pain in my chest." The board is 1/2" thick; the case is  3/4" wide. But my exuberance in sealing the end grain of the bottom sheet of ply made the slot much narrower. Less than 1/2". Out came my dremel tool and a-sanding I did go. Any exposed wood I had to re-seal with epoxy, so a week later I was ready to try again. This time it went in, but it soon started to bind with sounds of mangling wood. "Doctor," I thought, "Everything's fading to black!" The pennant cable shackle was not following the planned groove in the trunk (see Constr. I, barely visible in the last picture), so I had to move the attachment. Of course, more wood to re-seal. A week later a friend helped me maneuver the whole thing in place and install the pin/bushing. Then, the moment of reckoning was at hand. Slowly I let the whole thing slide down, and it did so with no complaints until it was all the way in! Well, almost, that is. It still sticks out about 3" on the aft end, probably because it is bumping into something like the pennant block guards I made. I don't mind at this point. "Doctor, I'm alive!"

Now a side view of the centerboard in place.  The block and rope is to prevent the board from allowing gravity to take its course.  The board is not extended fully here as it would bump into the garage door, but you get a good idea of the intended purpose.

Another picture before the board was sent home into the trunk.  Here you can see the subtle change between the barrier epoxy and the polyurethane at the waterline.  It's not much more than a change of gloss, which is exactly what I wanted.  There will be no bootstripe.

But nagging questions remain. What if the board becomes jammed in the case? I have no mechanism in place to fix this problem. The hole at Blkhd E where the pennant wire comes out is inappropriate for any other use. I can see myself raising the board to go downwind in a race, reaching the leeward mark to go back upwind and not being able to get the board down. That would be, to put it mildly, a disaster. My thought now is to drill a hole in the top of the case just a few inches aft of Bkhd E. Then I could ram a rod down the hole to help things along. The hole could be plugged when not in use.

Turn Over III - The Final Episode

By now, a piece of cake. I did get a friend to help so I didn't have to sweat. Instead of setting the boat down on the floor like last time, I built a cradle out of scrap lumber to hold the hull. I'm hoping that this cradle will allow me to slide the boat out of the garage when the time comes.

Here's a gander at the foredeck, complete with the quarter-round trim that graces the rail.  Again, since it is made of mahogany, it was tough to bend into shape.  I screwed it in place, then after the epoxy dried I backed out the screws and filled the holes with more epoxy.

You can also see the half-round trim on the sides of the gunwale.

Oh-my-gosh!  The whole deck is now primed white, ready for my color scheme.  The change is quite dramatic, I must say.

Lastly, I submit a picture of the oars.  The one on the right is not coated with epoxy yet, the left one is.  They are built to a stretched pattern provided by Jim Michalak .  Made of 3 glued sections of ash, 9.5 ft. long, they were cut, planed, and sanded to this point.  They'll be painted as well.

So it's back to sanding, sanding, a little painting, and sanding again. Most of it is now temperature dependent, and since winter has arrived the painting process will be haphazard at best. Once it is done, looking around for a trailer will be next because...

I am now having a new house built, so most of the funds I had earmarked for the boat will be redirected to financing the new boatbuilding site...I mean, the new house. As a result the boat project will take a back seat for awhile.

As per plan, I hooked up the "skidding" frame to my truck and slowly started pulling the boat into the sunny spring day. This photo best describes the green color; the rest of the photos are a bit washed out. The important bit is the frame held together and skidded on the concrete admirably.

For the first time, I'm looking at the boat from farther than 2 ft. away. Wow.

The boat is moved forward a bit on the frame to get ready for the "dry-retrieval" onto the trailer. The ballast is still not installed, so horsing the boat around is still possible.

Another look near the bow.

The same friend that helped me in the last turn-over brought his car jack and lifted the bow enough to get the first trailer bunks under the hull. Then I hooked the trailer's winch up to the bow eye (just visible near the knuckle), and winched the boat on the trailer. Initially I had to tip the trailer up a bit, but the whole process was really easy to do. I love it when a plan comes together.

Here we are with the boat turned around, on the trailer, with a quick look at the straps.

A future project will be installing guides near the aft part of the trailer to help position the boat during "wet-retrievals".

Now some quick pictures of the interior. This highlights the hatches and portholes which were installed quite easily. No more gaping holes to look at.

Another view, slightly to starboard.

All hatches and deck hardware were sealed with a silicon/polyurethane blend called Life-Seal.

A closeup of the porthole. I used acrylic glass for the window, and the frame is made of 1/4" ply. I would choose something different next time because it couldn't hold up to the bolts. Even with washers, some of the heads sunk in a bit.

A close up of the bow and the hardware installed to date. There is a bronze padeye on the other side of the mast tube. Together they will be part of the boom vang. More visuals to come.

And finally, put to bed.

Here we see both the top and bottom parts of the rudder in the orientation that they'll be assembled. The foil part of the rudder has been coated with 10 oz. cloth for greater strength and to seal everything up tight. The plans show a diagonal member on the top part to resist the torsional stress on the case as the rudder is turned. My diagonal is slightly crooked so it won't interfere with the bottom pintle strap, shown here.

Most standard pintles are designed for rudders that are 1-1/2" thick. The case here is a little over 3" thick. So I bought the longest straps I could find and did a considerable amount of readjustment to get them to honor the new dimensions. The clip that holds the rudder in place is visible above the lower pintle.

Lining up the pintles with the gudgeons during installation is a bit of a practiced art. It only takes a fraction of a dight to make them bind or refuse to slip into place. It took a bit of encouragement (encouragement = hammer) before everything cooperated.

After I finally put the rudder together, I installed 2 control lines. One for raising the rudder, and one for holding it down. Both of these lines are led to cleats on top of the tiller. At this point I am skeptical that one small line will be enough to hold the rudder down, especially when moving along smartly.

The Deck

When I moved the boat to the new house, I hadn't installed the cockpit lockers yet. My biggest consternation was over the latches. I could buy those really nice elliptical snap clasps, but at $35.00 each I looked around for other cheaper alternatives. And the picture here shows what I installed. Perhaps not the best or the prettiest solution, but they work. On top of the hatch, the line is held by a knot and an eyestrap. There are no sharp points to cut skin or clothes. Each hatch is sealed underneath by a foam weatherstrip.

Here's a closer picture of the forward end of the cockpit. The compass has a LED light for night sailing. The bronze padeye below the compass is for attaching harnesses. Singlehanding and harnesses are just two things that always go together.

Here's a shot of the starboard side with the winch and rope clutches installed. The halyard and the outhaul will be led through the clutches. The cunningham will be led to a horn cleat on the port side. Missing here are the fairleads that feed the lines aft from the mast.

The plans don't specify a winch. I didn't think much of it until I read about one Seaward Fox owner who had trouble raising his similar sized mainsail. He gave up and installed a #6 winch on his mast. Winches are also good for hauling in stubborn anchors.

The two horn cleats on the bulkhead are for hanging any spare lines, like the extra 30 ft. of halyard when the sail is raised.

The Mast

One nice June day a semi-tractor trailer pulled up to my house and deposited a 45lb. box. I took the cardboard wrapping off and the result appears in this pic. My first duty beyond the careful inspection was to put the mast in the boat to make sure the base fit correctly. That was a scary moment. Not because I was nervous it wouldn't fit, but because man-handling a long pole a few inches shy of 31 ft. while balancing on a tiny foredeck was walking the fine edge of disaster. Fortunately it fit and I didn't break it, but it reinforced the need for a Mast Raising System.

Although Composite Engineering said that the mast would only suffer cosmetically from UV rays, I wanted to paint it to match the rest of my color scheme.

If you've ever looked at a galvanic chart, you'll see that carbon is at one end and aluminum is almost at the other end. When the two come together, like when the mast is in the mast tube and you add an agent like salt water, you get a combination that corrodes the aluminum. To prevent this, Comp. Eng. wrapped the buried part with standard fiberglass.

After the usual pattern of priming and painting, I attached the sailtrack, halyard block, and quite a few eyestraps.

Here's a close up of the top, complete with halyard and windvane. I packed the top of the mast with epoxy and filler, then cut a slot for the sheave.

I've never worked with carbon fiber before. I learned quickly how tough it can be. I used stainless steel screws in pre-drilled holes to attach the sailtrack. Turning the screws became really tough duty. After snapping off several, I had to drill the holes slightly bigger before it would let me set them all the way in. I don't think they'll go anywhere.

The halyard does not go inside the mast as the designer recommends. Instead, I've fed the halyard through eyestaps on the front of the mast. This way, the mast remains watertight since there is no hole at the masthead, and the halyard will always follow the bend of the mast (critical to maintaining luff tension on unstayed spars).

This pic shows the detail around the lazy jack attachment. The sailtrack is on the right, the halyard fed through an eyestrap on the left. The top part of the lazy jack is a 3/32" line that is tied to an eyestrap on each side of the mast. I chose to use line instead of the recommended wire because line is a little easier to rig and un-rig.

Screws were used for all of the mast hardware save for one: the gooseneck. Comp. Eng. recommended through-bolting the gooseneck fitting. That provided a bit of a challenge since the gooseneck is 5 ft. from the mast butt. I taped a wrench to a long stick, taped the nut and washer to the wrench, then slid the whole contraption inside the mast while feeding the bolt from the outside. It turned out easier than I figured.

The whole boom was assembled by Dwyer Mast from the dimensions I gave them. It arrived in my backyard a couple of weeks after the mast. The fittings at the ends of the boom allow the outhauls to be run internally.

Here's a closeup of the gooseneck and tack fitting. Just like the rudder pintle straps, the gooseneck fitting had to be adjusted a bit to conform to the 5" diameter curve.

From the last two pictures it might be obvious that I was doing a dry run at putting the rig together.

And here it is, complete with lazy jacks and halyard. The next logical step would be putting the rig on the boat, but first I needed to put on my engineering hat and concoct a...

Mast Raising System

The mast, even with all the hardware, is still only about 45 lbs. Lifting it and swinging it around is not difficult. But it is very awkward to raise. Being able rig the boat on my own has always been important. So I built the aids shown in this pic. The mast crutch holds the butt in place and helps guide the rest of the mast while it is raised. Once vertical it is easy to slide the spar into the mast tube. The cross on the crutch allows the mast and the boom to sit side by side while I hook up all of the lines. You'll notice the boom is not attached to the mast yet.

The crutch on the stern was built to hold the mast and boom while traveling down the road. I built a smaller crutch that fits into the mast tube to hold the forward ends.

Once the spar is in place, I can connect the gooseneck, remove the Mast Raising System, and commence connecting the rest of the running rigging.

And here is a pic that attempts to show all of the rig at once. Pretty tough to do since the mast is so high. The tree behind the boat caused some difficulty since the mast would get hung up in the branches during the raising and lowering stages. Very annoying.

But! All this hard effort was for a good reason. Now I was able to confirm the locations of additional padeyes and blocks for organizing the numerous lines. And even more important, it gave me an opportunity to accurately measure the dimensions for the sail.

I didn't time the mast raising, but the mast lowering process, complete with all de-rigging and with no help, took 25 minutes. Not bad.

Here's a somewhat closer pic with most of the running rigging hooked up. Not yet installed are the cunningham and 2 reefing lines.

The boat's name shows up here, too. A sign shop made it from vinyl to my font specifications. Installed really easy.

Here's a quick look at one of the oars, now painted. Instead of leathers and buttons, I used twine wrapped and knotted around the shaft for protection at the oarlock. I then painted it to help glue it all together.

Upon receiving my sail, I rushed home and set the rig up horizontally in the backyard. After sliding on the sail I made a number of measurements for the reefing lines, outhaul, and cunningham. And as I expected, the boom was a bit too long. A lot better than being too short, though. So I cut about 4" off the aft end.

After another few trips to the store and a couple more evenings doing a odd jobs, the Great Event approacheth.

If you do any research on launching ceremonies, you get a multitude of different ideas. Many cases follow a set pattern. The builder launches the boat (with or without ceremony). Then after performing sea-trials, the builder legally turns the boat over to the owner. The new owner then performs a christening/launching/commissioning ceremony whereby the vessel gains a name, a spirit, and an official skipper.

I decided to follow the same procedure. As the builder, I would launch the boat and perform sea-trials the weekend before the Big Ceremony. That way I would have a chance to put the boat through its paces, become more comfortable with its performance characteristics, and still have a week to fix anything that broke. During the Big Ceremony, the builder (Me) will officially turn over the keys to the new owner (Me), designate the name, the spirit, and the new skipper (Me). Complete with bubbly over the bow (and into Me).

Okay, it's a plan.

Perfect conditions greated us on August 25. Sunny, winds N-NE at 15 - 18 kn, and warm. A friend took most of the pictures here with his fancy digital camera. Click on the thumbs to see the full picture. Back to the designated launch area at Willoughby Bay we went. My bride set up a great food spread, I set up the boat, guests arrived. Among the entourage was Alleluia, a Norwalk Islands Sharpie 26. It became the press boat.

With the boat properly dressed, I said a few words of thanks, my bride did the sponsor thing of making a small speech and spraying the boat with champagne. We then proceeded with the launching evolution.

The burgee is from the (University of) Washington Yacht Club where I first learned to sail.

Here I'm coaxing the boat off the trailer. Sliding it off and on is remarkably easy.

This picture also shows the intricate spaghetti of control lines around the mast. In total there are main halyard (left side), boom vang with strap, outhaul, cunningham, reef outhaul #1, reef outhaul #2. It all works out without too much binding.

She's floating! These fancy digital pictures most accurately reflect the green color of the deck (your monitor may differ).

A number of people have warned me about the hazards of lazy jacks. I've found mine to be pretty benign. The only time they get caught is during the initial raising and it's no fuss to clear them. Reefing, or taking out reefs, doesn't foul at all.

So I raised the sail, loaded up the first batch of guests, and off we went. Once beyond the shadow of the highway bridge the wind made it's full force felt. I decided pretty quickly that we needed to take in a reef. This picture caught me in the midst of the process.

Even overpowered the boat didn't exhibit any bad behavior. The helm was always pretty tame regardless of gusts, people walking around, or the course. But there is one thing I found in the stronger breeze. Like a Laser and Finn, if you go dead downwind it will rock gunwale to gunwale if you're not careful. Heading up a bit stops the rolling.

Here we are properly trimmed with a single reef and a bone in her teeth. The sailmaker tried to convince me that the reefs I requested were too deep. Since we had plenty of power here in the gusts, I am very glad I stuck to my guns.

As in the sea trial, the short fetch didn't allow much in the way of waves. So the jury is still out on how she does in chop or bigger waves.

Here she is at speed. Please forgive the dragging fenders. Since I was back and forth to the dock to give rides I didn't bother stowing them. I like the photo though.

Again, the oars stayed stowed on the side decks. I take that as a good thing. I'm still a bit curious about how they'll work, but I'm sure that will come in time.

This picture is probably one of the few times we'll be ahead of Alleluia. Although the starboard cockpit drain appears underwater, it is actually right at the water's edge. Despite 4 people in the cockpit, I never got more than a cup of water through the drains. I was surprised since I expected a bit more.

Here's a picture of the aforementioned Alleluia. You can see the family resemblence. This boat was built by a Connecticut boatyard under the watchful eye of the designer. To my knowledge it was the second 26 made. The current owner purchased her several years ago. She remains in the original configuration (and name) since her launch in 1986.

Eventually our party came to a close. A great ending to one chapter and a start on the next. From the first cut to launching took exactly 2 years and 9 months. Total construction labor was 619 hours.

My solution for securing the hatches, shown again here, was inexpensive, ingenious, and totally useless. I couldn't get them tight enough, even with weather stripping, to prevent them from leaking. Actually, "leaking" is probably not a strong enough word.

During a cruise in May 2002, it rained overnight while I was at anchor. I stayed warm and perfectly dry in the cabin, but in the morning I was sponging 3 inches of water out of each locker. If this wasn't bad enough, all the exposed bolt ends where the hardware was attached were poking holes in cushions, pants, and flesh.

The latter problem I fixed with shorter bolts and cap nuts. And after finding a good deal on some brass cam-style latches, I dispensed with the line-and-cleat disaster. The appearance of the cockpit has gone from chintzy to nautical.

Here's a picture after the conversion. With application of rubber gasket around the edges, I'm happy to report that the hatches are now mostly rain proof. Notice I didn't say waterproof.

During the winter of 2003/2004 I tackled a number of outstanding projects. I was never happy with the finish of the hull, so it was time to strip off the paint and fair out all the rough spots. It took many hours of sanding, spreading on compound, and more sanding, which is exactly why I didn't do it originally.

The plywood portholes and the aft bulkhead of the cabin started to check (display cracks in the veneer, so it was time to solve that. In the process of taking the ports off, the ply broke, so I made new ports from MDO. That stuff shouldn't check, and it holds up better to bolt heads than ply (see earlier comments). As for the bulkhead, there was no choice but to sand down to bare wood and fiberglass everything.

I even fiberglassed the dropboard trim. I was unhappy with was the original grey color I picked for painting the trim and other highlights. It was not dark enough to show much of a contrast with the white hull. So I went with a darker grey color and repainted all the relevant surfaces.

My bride had complained about the lack of shelf space in the boat, so I proceeded to install 5 of them peppered about the cabin. All of them have the obligatory fiddles so things won't be tempted to fly around. It does make the cabin a bit more liveable.

Another nitpicky item was the ballast. Egia has always listed a few degrees to starboard, mostly likely due to the weight of the off-center board. I took this opportunity to move some of the ballast to port and forward (which required some new tie-downs, etc). Now it seems more correctly level. It will certainly make it easier to row.