Well that was 2025, not the year I expected, nor probably any of us. A mix of worky work needing all my attention and the piggy bank feeling light, has slowed progress.
To help with space at Adelaide Timber Boatworks, the Sharpie was moved into their adjacent number 4 shed. Somewhat symbolic of their shift in focus, however…laid aside, not laid to rest.
I don’t feel closer to launching, but I am. Some key components of the boat have been tackled this past half of the year. From completing and installing the centreboard foil to building the rudder and rudder box, and over the past few weeks, installing and finishing some of the interior trim.
Working on the trim has kept me on board the sharpie these holidays, where most of the work the past year has been done in my home/office shed. The home shed is very pleasant, but disconnected from the boat and water, so the return has been welcome.
Troy, Luke and India had made up 99% of the interior trim, a lot of it of it is quite intricate. I did attempt to buy teak trim off the shelf, but little of it matched the shapes inside. We chose Hoop Pine because it represented the hidden solid timber used in the construction, which is all Hoop Pine, and it was much cheaper than Teak. All part of the story.
Helpfully it is wonderfully workable and comes up a honey colour with flecks of sparkling fractious grain.
By the photos you will see the complex curves and switch backs that challenged the wood workers. The pieces had to be fitted, fettled and filled together once glued on. This created another challenge with the putty, made from PVA and saw dust, it had to be carefully sanded off from everywhere, but where it was needed, as it is blindingly obvious when varnished.
These soft Hoop Pine trim pieces are bound to take a beating, so at the last minute I chose to epoxy coat them before varnishing. Labourious taping off of the painted bulkheads made the epoxying and varnishing much easier.
I chose a satin varnish and it looks wonderful. The edges of the ply bulkheads now look dressed and provide finger holds as you pass through the spaces. Super satisfying.
I’ve also been drilling pass throughs for the 12 volt wiring, making use of a flexible drill attachment I purchased in the 1980s and had never used. It has a small chuck and allowed me to hide the holes up in tight corners, hopefully rendering the wires invisible but serviceable.
Such rewarding yet fiddly work that somewhat patches over the disappointment of slipping past another launch date.
In the late 1920s research into fluid dynamics helped yacht designers understand and optimise sailing boats. One of the seminal texts still consulted is Manfred Curry‘s “Yacht Racing, The Aerodynamics of Sails“. (It’s worth clicking the link and scrolling through the translation of his book, it is fascinating.)
Not that I had to apply any of this knowledge, I am sure Bruce Kirby had it read to him as a toddler, but I have a unique need to understand bits of it…
One of the last things my much loved friend Michael Jansen did for me before he unexpectedly died, was to redesign a lowered centreboard case, thus easing up the cabin interruption, and allowing for a more lithe centreboard. It is a hybrid from the early hull design, with an original board, and the current version of the Mk2 design. Michael had sent me the case modification details, but not the actual board design before he shuffled.
The change is fairly straightforward, the length is the same, but the chord (the distance leading edge to back edge of the board) is reduced. Additionally, the head of the board, the part that stays in the boat as the board swings down and takes the forces, is different from current design.
Following Curry’s findings the US National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA) initially described and tested 78 foil shape variations, and anyone designing foil sections could apply this research, essentially plugging in numbers to their formulas. Subsequently, the NACA tool set has grown, and is used for everywhere.
People ignore this research sometimes in an anti-vax manner (i.e. let’s ignore the science), but mostly because a NACA foil means a wider centreboard and/or rudder necessitating significant modifications to a centreboard case and rudder cheeks. And it can be argued that the average sailboat doesn’t get up to a speed where good hydrodynamics make a significant difference.
There is also the misguided idea widely shared that the centreboard should be part of the ballast system, it should have weight that will help keep the boat upright.
I understand where the connection is made, but a centreboard is not a keel. If you use the centreboard in a Sharpie (or any boat..?) as part of the ballast equation, the stresses on the centreboard case, it’s pivot point and the lifting mechanism are extreme. They can prematurely age the hull, or require signifgicant structure to support it.
So, who doesn’t want their boat to sail faster and more efficiently?
How does a NACA foil actually help? A NACA foil reduces drag and increase lift.
Drag; even though a foil is thicker than a simple plate, it will slip easier through the water, by allowing the fluid to pass around the foil and detach it’s flow neatly with minimal disturbance, easing its passage.
Lift is the exciting aspect; Depending on the angle of attack during forward motion, the blade acts like an aircraft wing, and the windward side of the foil creates turbulence, and the leward allows the water to slip by easier, this difference pulls the boat higher to windward. Any sailor will tell you, climbing to windward is welcome.
Back to my challenge…
The mental stumbling I went through, was self-induced where I questioned what is the actual chord of a NIS Centreboard. I didn’t see it as clear cut because the board is never vertical, it sits raked back at 45degrees. The flow through the water, is parallel to the surface, thus the raked foil should be more complex?. So what is the true chord?
Apparently both are correct, however the longer chord that is produced when measuring a board perpendicular to the waterline, is impractical. A NACA formula board becomes too thick, countering the lift effect with drag.
Logic backed with advice from a few experienced individuals suggested I should compromise, and use the narrower, literal measurement, the fore-aft of the board.
I took careful measurements inside the case and asked Chris Dearden to draw up a suitable NACA foil. Then I sent the file to Gerald of Crosshair CnC along with a ply blank I made 10+ years ago. The plywood I used was a bit cheap and nasty, but it is the core of the board, and it will be buried in ‘glass and epoxy..
Unfortunately I also made the error by asking Gerald to allow for the fibreglass (cut a bit more off), when Chris had already allowed for it. Hmm.
I am riddled with luck as Gerald generously cut it again as a gift, saving my inattentive arse.
The next step is to trim, fair, fill, fair and glass the board. Trimming involves taking 10mm off the trailing edge and replacing it with thickened epoxy that has a hard flat 4mm edge. This is to aid in the hydrodynamics, by encouraging a clean exit of the flow off the back of the foil. The fairing and filling was as foul as you may guess, something I will be happy to see the end of.
Whilst I stated earlier that a centreboard shouldn’t be a part of the ballast system, it does need to confidently sink and stay sunk at speed.
Robert’s advice was to cut off the leading tip, cast a version in lead, epoxy it back on, then use the final layers of fibreglass to bond it well to the board. The fill and fair it to fit.
How much to cut off? How much lead will be enough to sink and stay sunk the board without making it too heavy?
Robert had suggested I take the board to the water, float it, then add weight until the tip sinks. This would work, but I wanted to believe in the science and not get wet.
I was advised that CAD should be able to do the calculation. But finding a CAD expert who could do this was not easy. After asking the three I knew and receiving blank stares, I cast my net wider and used Upwork to find a UK based expert who said he could make the calculation.
$250 later, I was told it should sink itself, but 11kgs would help….Sounds vague, more of an art than a science.
My UK CAD man provided me with a measurement of where to cut the tip off. I decided to add a little more weight by shifting the cut line, and bring it closer to 15kgs. Boldly I lobbed it off and marvelled at the off cut and it’s Kit-Kat wafer core.
I took the tip to CallyCast foundry with my left over ballast lead and got in the queue to have it rendered in lead. Three months later, I had a heavy odd shaped object weighing 12kgs! WTF, what happened to all the calculations? Even my displacement volume test! So be it, at least it is within the artist tolerances I set.
I stopped worrying and set about glueing to an already heavy (50kg) centreboard. Wrestling this combination with slippy slidey epoxy redefined ‘core-strength’ to me.
It set and stuck very well making the centreboard more unwieldy than before, exactly what is needed when wetting and wrapping (bubble free) two layers of biaxial fibreglass cloth carefully around the foil.
At this stage I decided to check the centreboard case and slot for the fit now the board is well ‘glassed, so I made up a rough of the head of the board with it’s close to final finish and put it in the case on the boat. Unfortunately it was 3mm too thin, 1.5mm each side.
This exercise also highlighted another small issue, the shoulders of the board, where the head meets the foil, needed to protrude 60mm lower into the keelson to distribute the loads properly. I could lower the pivot point, but that may put it below or close to the waterline, risking leaks. The easy fix is to make an in-place mould, and fill it with thickened epoxy to lower the shoulders.
The thickness issues and the shoulder bulking lead to the need for more heavy fibreglass cloth, which is surprisingly not that thick as it took three layers each side, but I got there in the end. The result is 1.5mm clearance each side of the board. Too loose and it would rattle, too tight and it would jam.
At this stage I also could embed a lifting eye in the back of the board, made from a stainless steel double shanked towing D ring, and build in a significant epoxy bush for the pivot point. Both tasks went smoothly and will last the distance.
The foil then needed more filling and fairing and eventually two hearty coats of antifouling paint, which also is not that thick, as the board still fits.
Together with a good friend Craig Arnold, we lifted the board into the cabin and lowered it through the top of the centreboard case into place and pinned it. I think the ability to lift the centreboard out through the hatch is a mighty party trick of the NIS. It’s pretty uncommon to be able to service a centreboard with relative ease.
In parallel to the centreboard foil, I have been preparing the rudder foil and case, but I’ll save that for another post.
This post has been a long time in the making. I’ve struggled to focus on the boat these past few months as money and attention have been needed elsewhere. I have had to settle with the pause of progress and plans. Such is life..
When we realised the Hobart Festival would be missed, we set our eyes on making the South Australian Wooden Boat Festival on the Murray River at Goolwa. The plan was to be sailing at this festival.
As the year has slid by, we were all in high gear, but too many little things were needed to launch my boat prior to this festival and it was important to have some time after launching to sort out issues before being on show.
I hadn’t realised how much I wanted the boat to be at the festival until Friday of the week before when I considered cancelling.
At that time, I felt it best we didn’t attend with the boat, so the pace at which we were working could be maintained. I was afraid of slowing things down.
But the act of considering cancelling tipped me into a big slump. I knew I had to be there with the boat one way or another. Thankfully Troy could rearrange plans, and Derek could have the trailer ready in time.
The day before I had to have the boat in Goolwa (a 90minute drive away), Derek had the trailer ready. Friday morning I was in his workshop where he was torquing up the wheels and ready test the brakes and lights.
Feeling the tension in the timing, I carefully dragged the new trailer around to Adelaide Timber Boatworks where Troy and India were putting the finishing items on the boat. Some of these were permanent, some would need to be removed afterwards.
By 1pm we had the boat strapped down to the new trailer and I was ready to leave.
At 3.30pm I rolled into Goolwa after stopping four times checking on the precious cargo. Unfortunately the bow roller did some digging into the boat, but it’s nothing that cannot be fixed, and in one way, it broke the spell of that perfect new thing that is begging to lose it’s perfection.
Leaving it that night in the festival grounds was worrisome, but it felt good to have it somewhere new, doing something different.
Kate had designed an effective information panel telling the story of the build.
The weekend went super well with around 15,000 attendees, most of who would have walked past the boat. Many stopped to read the information panel, and climb up on the stands to peer into the interior.
I really enjoyed this first outing, it helped make this 15 year project feel real and close to launching. The festival also reconnected me with one of my favourite sailing grounds and the community that loves it.
The whole exercise was exhausting. I’m still recovering. Big physical efforts meshed with big emotions. Really, is there anything more rewarding?
Since the teak landed, Troy and his team have been turning it into useful boat bits. Each bit has been a little challenging for the crew because we’re trying to achieve some tricks.
The brow of the cabin sides came first, this was a fairly straightforward moulding, but the tricky aspect was running it into the cockpit capping. A NIS design queue is the brow line that sweeps fore to aft. So consideration for the capping size and a fair lineup was imperative. Troy and the team nailed this.
Cockpit capping/combing followed. These are big hunks of timber, and in years past would have been sawn out of continuous slabs of teak. The realities of forestry have made slabs of teak quite rare, and I was keen on acknowledging this reality by scarfing the combings.
Scarfing is the process of joining timber by cutting matching opposing bevels over a nominal length. The length is expressed as a ratio, for example, a 1:6 scarf is six times as long as the width of the timber. Where a length of timber needs to be flexible and stay fair, long scarfs are used, and scarfs are rarely shorter than 1:3.
A 1:5 nibbed scarf (the points are nibbled off, rather than going to a feather end) was used on the cappings as it is more for the eye than structure. The below picture is edited to reveal the joint.
Yes it did save money, but importantly, it is more responsible. The resulting cappings are spot on, both comfortable to perch on, and to lean back against. Two elements Troy took time to resolve.
An aside about the scarfes; Troy has two apprentices Luke and India. Luke was put on the job of the scarfs and he really nailed it.These joints are highly visible, they are the untreated hardwood that pulls the eye in, they are a seat and a seat back, and we couldn’t to do it twice. So props to Troy for training and trusting Luke, and props to Luke for the great work.
The end result is perfect, it creates the desired effect at the bow, and most importantly, provides a safe toe hold, preventing crew from slipping off the side decks.
Next tackled were the sponsons, or rubbing strips. Troy had worked out a proportionate profile that protects and fits with the other teak elements. The sponons did require steaming to fit as there is a good curve and twist heading forward. Unfortunately I missed the chance to be there for this, it is one of those fascinating jobs that calls back to another era.
After reviewing the sponsons on the boat, in conjunction with the toe rail, we decided to do some further shaping of the underside of the sponson heading forward, just a lightening of it visually to encourage that lift at the bow.
The review process is the most fun. Essentially, one stands and stares from all angles, gently moving your head about tracing the curves looking for not-nice-curves. It’s most fun done with a friend. To a bystander, it’s as impenetrable as watching cricket…sitting in the stands staring for hours.
The last bit of teak tickling I want to mention are the hatches, and specifically the hatch runners for the main hatch. The runners have to produce a level plane on their top for the main hatch to slide smoothly. So the runner bottoms need to trace the cabin top with its curves this way and that. With all of the care in the world, the cabin top is not perfect, so it was quite the task for Troy to fettle it in. The result is as low as practical, leaving a handsome structure up top.
The hatches themselves are still to be done, but the washboard slides and companionway lip are all ready to go.
With all of this beautiful teak fitted to the boat so perfectly, it was next removed so the paint can go on…..you can’t spell paint without pain.
July 2024 I thought I could have the boat finished in time to make the Australian Woodenboat Festival in Hobart. Troy and I actually thought we may have it launched late October 2024 for trials, in plenty of time for the event.
I’m far from disappointed now, but sitting in this squeezy Airbus, it would have been nice to have my shiny Sharpie at the biggest festival of its sort in the Southern Hemisphere.
However, attending the festival with my new boat was hair raising. The sheer cost and slight vagueness of the ferry availability left me in a cold sweat. Apparently the ferry service is awaiting the arrival of some new ships, as the current fleet is old and short handed.
I could imagine myself towing the boat over to the dock near Melbourne (an 8+ hour drive), navigating the potential issues of a new trailer carrying the fresh boat, nervously hoping to find my place in the queue.
As it was, I couldn’t get on the regular ferry service unless I left weeks earlier, valuable time needed to finish the boat. So I had opted for a freight service where I fly as they transport the car and trailer by sea. And for this, a spot should open up a few days before the festival (should). Eek
But, the big issue is how unfinished and untested the sharpie would be when heading out amongst a massive gathering of excited amateur skippers.
The decision not to go was easy, just a little disappointing. I didn’t enjoy explaining this to family and friends and particularly the festival committee, who had gone out of their way to ensure a berth for my boat.
So to the festival I went without the boat. I planned to spend 7 days in Tasmania, time to soak it all up and perhaps receive some invitations to crew. At the last minute, my youngest daughter, Josephine, asked to accompany me. Jo is an art student who loves to sit quietly and draw, she’s the perfect travel companion.
The first day in Hobart was dedicated to Jo, to ensure she wasn’t swamped with wooden boats. We toured the inimitable art gallery Mona, and soaked in art all day.
Our day 2 was the first day of the festival, the reconnaissance mission. It’s good to get a quick overview and look at event timings to plan the following days. I was quickly struck by the vista of Hobart harbour bristling with masts as the docks filled up. The first day involves loading the 450+ wooden boats into the wharves. It’s quite the tetris ballet, worth getting a good spot to watch it performed.
We began the second day of the festival by borrowing a stunning row boat from the collection of the Living Boat Trust of Franklin Tasmania. Jo and I were out on it for over an hour and witnessed the “My First Boat Launch” launchings, where 7 girls and 2 boys aged around 8 years old, set off in the boats they built. It was Magic.
Rowing a traditional boat really shifted me into an alternative disposition, there is something about being on the water working oars that triggers it. I think Jo felt that too.
The rest of the day I bounced between friends and boats and displays, soaking it all up. It’s all a bit of a blur. One thing that stood out was some time discussing electrical systems with the team from Victron Energy, a supplier of 12 volt electrical management equipment. Everything of theirs is painted a sublime blue, it seems so well made and interconnected…I am a sucker for good design.
I was thrilled to go aboard Kerrawyn, a 1949 fishing ketch which operates as a charter boat. Troy was crewing for owners Dave and Anastasia, during the festival. Anastasia is one of the world’s foremost traditional ship riggers, the conversation was riveting.
Bob spoke about using the modern Dyneema rope in traditional rigging. Dyneema is lighter, stronger, and more serviceable than steel (and hemp). It is a massive pivot for the industry, seeing centuries old skills coming to the forefront as Dyneema needs to be served and parcelled just as hemp did.
In connection to this connection….Bob is the rigger for Tally Ho, and his presentation followed Leo Goolden, the hero of the Tally Ho story. Leo recounted the 7 year journey of restoring a traditional yacht and funding it with his 212 YouTube videos of the process. I’m one of the 500k+ followers of Leo’s YouTube channel, and have enjoyed every step of his journey.
The Symposium was something special, I wish I’d attended more of it, but as you can tell, the entire festival ties you up in choices. I did attend John Welsford‘s talk on boat design though.
John is a very approachable man, and his attention to design is what the world needs. By this I mean they are so considerate of the modern person, the boats fit their role so very well. They are always as safe and as comfortable as possible while sailing and rowing well. His customer who took a tiny Scamp to the tip of South America and lived aboard for 40 days while exploring…wow. The whole presentation is on YouTube, here it is:
Sunday of the festival, Jo and I enjoyed a sail on the James Craig, a Sydney based 3 masted Barque launched in 1874, it’s 70meters long, and takes a crew of 16 to operate. Aside from the sheer grandeur of the experience, watching the crew work together, as part of this huge machine, was fascinating. It’s another world with it’s own language, but the standout moment was standing on the aft deck, watching the Captain guide this behemoth into a tight dock space, calling orders to the helmsman, the engineer and the tug driver. His calm and light-hearted manner was incredible.
At the heart of all of this was the time spent with Josephine and old friends, Peter Ironmonger, Robert and Ali Ayliffe, Ben Simpson, Troy Lawrence, Brett and Tammy Rogers and many new friends.
Wooden boats are a strange game, at times over the weekend I had the thought that this is an enormously indulgent hobby, something that sucks up so much time, attention, and money from the world.
However, these boats are art, and art is always worth investment. They are a calming and unifying influence, and they are a reminder of how humanity made it’s first outreach.
Can’t wait to be at the 2027 festival with my boat.
Back in 2016, Robert Ayliffe found a trailer on Kangaroo Island with a rough boat on it, the price was fine, the trailer was ideal for the job, and it was only 17 years old. It is in great condition, has dual axels with disc brakes, and possibly only needed a modern brake controller.
Up until the boat was turned over, the trailer was stored on a friend’s paddock in the hills, visible from the South Eastern Freeway. With every long drive south, I could wave to it.
In 2019, when the pressure to move to a new home came about, I scurried around getting the boat ready to be turned and trailed. Robert and Morgan joined me for a week putting the heavy glass and antifoul on the bottom. Simultaneously, I retrieved the grazing trailer and using the skills of Byron Glover, a boiler maker, he fashioned three horizontal drop beams that would replace original trailer’s junky rollers and support system.
Up until late 2024, the boat lived on it’s unfinished trailer, with these cross beams keeping it all together.
Launching is looming. My hope last year was to make the Australian Wooden Boat Festival in Hobart February 2025. Which really is too tight from January’s perspective, but I’m scratching around seeking to sort out anything that will slow down the process of getting it to and on the water.
Before Christmas 2024, I turned my attention to the trailer. I phoned a few contacts who mostly scared me out of everything I thought I knew about modern trailering. Apparently in the last few years, with the boom in touring Australia, towing regulations and enforcement of them has been a hot focus.
So many monstrous SUVs towing bloated caravans have been caught overloaded. I’m not sure accident statistics have driven this crackdown, but the forces involved when towing near capacity are sobering, and insurance won’t cover you if you are over the limit.
The weight my finished boat is a bit of a mystery, but best estimates are 2000-2500 kilograms. So technically, it’s heavy.
In 2021 when replacing my work car, I ordered a Landcruiser 76 series which is well known for its excellent towing attributes and has a tow capacity of 3500kgs.
Tow capacity is not a simple thing, here’s a quote from an excellent article on Motorama.com: (read the full article here).
Towing capacities are calculated by a number of maximum weight limits. The three most important numbers for you are Gross Vehicle Mass (GVM), Gross Trailer Mass (GTM), and Gross Combined Mass (GCM). In short, the GCM must be less than the sum of the GVM and the GTM combined. But in the case of towing, one plus one does not always equal two…
Let’s take one of the most popular towing vehicles, the Toyota HiLux. It has a maximum GCM of 5650kg, but its GVM is 3000kg and its claimed GTM 3200kg, which adds up to 6200kg – 550kg more its GCM. That’s because in its GVM, the manufacturer is considering a full payload of 955kg (the maximum for the HiLux). Since you’re 550kg over, you actually only have 405kg left before you reach the maximum towing capacity – approximately the weight of all your camping gear combined. But then you won’t have a kilo left for any added accessories or even a carton of beer.
In addition to these interesting regulatory requirements, there is a practical issue how a trailer behaves behind a vehicle, and much of it is hinges on weight distribution:
Ideally, 10% of the loaded trailer weight needs to be on the tow hitch. Which if you consider vehicle capacity, I will lose 250 kilograms (or more) from what I can carry in my Landcruiser.
What or Who gets left behind?
I realised I needed professional help, and the network was listening. The neighbouring shed to Adelaide Timber Boatworks is operated by Steve of SD Marine. Steve has worked with Derek of DJL Fabrications on custom trailers for all sorts before, from competition rowing shells to land speed record challengers.
The trailer requirements for an NIS are simpler than most boats. NIS are incredibly stiff, with most of their weight around the centreboard case. So ideally they sit low in a trailer with plenty of support around the case opening, and have more aft overhang than typical. This keeps the weight of the trailer down and makes it all more manageable.
Derek took a good engineer’s look at my used 2008 trailer and determined that is it set up for a 2000kg boat, but has the capacity to carry a 4000kg boat if altered. So the axels, brakes and tyres will need uprating to be on the safe side (my kind of side).
As part of this upgrade he will also make additional custom bolt-on-able cross beams and galvanise them all.
Before Christmas, Troy raised the boat off the trailer, in preparation for Derek’s work.
While I’m not excited about this surprise development, I’m pleased to be getting a well considered and well engineered trailer.
It’s a huge part of my plans for this boat to take it to interesting places, many I can’t sail directly to. On the list so far: Goolwa, Sydney Harbour, Pitt Water, Lakes Entrance, Gippsland Lakes, Hobart, Tasmanian Rivers and lakes, Cairns, The Kimberly Coast, Canberra…
The finished trailer is amazing, Derek galvanised the frame and the new components and set up a seriously well planned set of supports. When towing, what is immediately notable is the braking system, it has hydraulic disc brakes, with an electric actuator and safety brake-away system. On my Land Cruiser, I’ve installed a Red Arc electric brake controller, and the combination of systems made towing and critically braking, a breeze.
All I had to worry about was the sheer size of the car, trailer and boat combination. It towed incredibly well, while it didn’t vanish, I certainly felt it behind the car, but I was never worried about the trailer, and stopping it.
I had intended to cap all of the interior bulkheads and pass throughs with an off-the-shelf teak moulding. The capping is there to hide the exposed plywood ends. Not that plywood ends are shameful. Actually I am a huge fan of plywood, the exposed ‘layer cake’ of the edges are pleasantly honest and industrial.
Ply-love aside, high quality 9mm gaboon plywood can do with capping. The capping is not only an aesthetic finish, but it adds rigidity and protection to the flat panels, softens the edges and provides an excellent hand-hold when you are staggering around below.
Implication number 1. The commonly stocked teak capping is made for 12mm plywood. Anything else will need to be custom made.
I have need for 9mm capping. Teak is expensive, and the stocked mouldings are made from handy dandy offcuts because they seem to be cheaper by volume than you can buy teak lumber for. So the suppliers must make it with scraps between orders. It’s a neat niche that I miss out on by 3mm.
So.
Troy suggested we make the cappings out of hoop pine. I only took a heartbeat to agree. After all, the keelson, chine logs, inwhale, and cleating is all hoop pine. Hoop pine is buttery to work, and the grain sparkles golden when varnished. It’s subtley special. And in all things, I try to be honest to what I’ve made. The story of the materials is something I want stated.
Aaaand it is cheaper than teak.
Troy developed the system of tracing out the patterns and their Paul-induced random radii, and Luke and India hopped into the task. As it progressed, Luke was sidelined for other work and India, the first year apprentice, took on this tricky process. She has done a marvellous job so far, I’m lucky to have her attention to detail.
Yes…it’s an old photo, but the only one showing the galley complete (initially)
But what about the capping, there is no room for it!? I was pretty disappointed with myself, and tried to convince Troy (and myself) that the capping could lose it’s forward tine and ride that edge, making a 5mm lip.
After much grumbling I realised I had to lower the top of the galley by 50mm so the capping would fit properly, and I’d have an important hand-hold in an important place.
Picture the shape of the hull, how the broadest part is at the deck, as you drop down into the boat, the hull comes in and the space narrows. Therefore as the galley lowers, everything needs to be shortened and lowered, shelves, drawer, counter top, cleats. Even the kitchen sink.
Frustratingly, the sink was a foundation to the design of the galley. It’s a standard plastic tub, deep and ready to hold dishes until you get to port. With the lowering and foreshortening, the sink will not longer fit.
So, I chose to add 10mm to the front of the galley, so it all comes inboard, so my ingenious sink will still fit.
All of these adjustments took a month of Sundays to complete with all the cutting recoating and repainting. The wildly shaped drawer had to be shortened in all directions and is almost back looking whole.
I’ll be reassembling soon. I’m happy I’ve improved it all, if not grumbly about the delay.
The drawer, upside down, had 10mm cut out of its width and length.
A few years ago, Robert Ayliffe offered me some bits and bobs from a 26′ Sharpie that was being scuttled. The job lot included sails made by the inimitable Ken O’Brien (KA Sails, Americas Cup winning Australia II), carbon fibre tabernacles, masts, and booms, as well as a 9.8hp Tohatsu outboard and other items.
The price was great, it was a huge opportunity that has made this dash to the finishing line possible.
The sails have a little bit of UV damage, very minor, and the masts needed a spruce up. The tabernacles and booms were never used, but they too need painting and rigging.
Robert and I took the opportunity to set out the sails to confirm the triple reefs met the boom where they needed to.
To tackle these tasks, and not move a 10 meter mast, I am working at Robert’s place in Mount Barker where all this has been stored. I am lucky to have Robert near by, having his experience and skill is priceless. Additionally, his company is second to none. Somedays we don’t get far on the boat, but the world’s problems are well chewed.
The mast required sanding, some fairing and quite a few coats of paint. We also noted the sail track had juuuust pulled away from the main mast at the head and foot. The mast track is attached with Sikaflex 252, and primed with 206. So we cleaned up under the track at these points, and re-attached with the more Sika. At the head of the mast, Robert took the opportunity to pop-rivet the track.
We are yet to tackle are the tabernacles and booms. They will need painting and hardware fitted.
In sifting through all the little stories that make up these last few months, it feels like the decisions, ordering and arrival of the teak, is most report-worthy.
I’ve mentioned the toerail profile resolution is a previous post and the capping around the cockpit combing, and there was a brow line, sponsons (a word fresh to me meaning ‘rubbing strip’), hatch detail, grab rails etc all to be made from this magical timber.
Teak is one of those timbers whose benefit and necessity has never wavered. And its price reflects this. For some reason I had not considered the $$$$. Perhaps it is my current financial posture; fingers in ears, singing lalalala.
Regardless, I am glad I didn’t consider $ in the planning, Teak’s lower maintenance, grippiness, stability and charm is worth the stretch. I am really pleased with the various designs using teak we have settled with, it is not heavy on the eye, and it shows care and interest in these critical aspects of the boat.
More photos to come as Troy evolves the Teak into hardware.
Nothing overly exciting to report here, except if you like watching paint dry.
Troy and his team have been fairing, filling and undercoating, bringing the exterior to a very nice foundation to take the colour finish. It is impressive seeing the work of skilled professionals, Troy’s attention to detail is beyond mine, hence this will be a beautifully finished boat.
I’ve been painting the interior working aft, battling perfectionism. It is far from perfect, but the impulse to go back over things, to reach for the fill and fair, is strong.
Apparently there is a ‘process’ that I should have applied. I am purposely vague about it this, I should have applied it! I get things ‘good enough’ and move on. Not that I should have held myself on each task until it all was perfect, but I should have made things better before moving on.
Filleting has been the main bugbear, my inflexible fused wrists make it difficult to get a good finish. I always try and do too much in one sitting. Perhaps if I formed the horizontal fillet, let it cure, then approached the vertical fillet, it would be much better. But that would require more patience than I carry.
Also, things could have been improved post curing, with more sanding etc. but for the patience.
I tell myself, these things will be behind shelves and under cushions, the lighting will be indirect, blah blah, gaslight, gaslight… All in service of getting on with it.
The interior paint is a satin off-white, and I will be leaving a couple of views of the plywood as well. Many of the plywood edges will be capped by Hoop Pine details to keep the eye engaged. Long term, I will be adding shelves and decor when I work out where they are most useful.
All this icing will sell the homemade cake.
Colour! What colour am I painting the Sharpie? Good question. This too has been pestering me. I am very drawn to the black hull that has graced several Sharpies, but I wish to do something different.
There are some constraints, the sails are red, the anti-fowling paint is copper (it begins red and becomes green), and teak is used in places.
I am a fan of the Cape Cod/ Nantucket grey with white details, add in raw teak in practical places, and this is where we are headed.
Obviously grey and white are not just their namesake, the shades of each are infinite, so Troy and I are rounding on the decision, with guidance from my family of creatives.
***UPDATE***
While there is nothing properly painted, I did get some welcome help from Kate, so we’ve settled on a scheme, including cushion colours.
The red simulates the sail colour, the fan is the cushion colour, the teak and bronze speak for themselves.
The keen eyed amongst you, will see Kate’s red jumper spoiling the colour, so the application of a rag fixed it. Grey takes on the colour around it.
Paul's boat blog 