I am proud to report that most of the refit projects of 2008 worked out brilliantly during the course of my six-month cruise to the Virgin Islands (and back). Maybe I have actually learned something from Mama Ocean ...
The human world, on the contrary, never ceases to surprise me. The day was January, 29, 2009, at approximately 1930 hours when I climbed into my beloved little nutshell pram, along with my equally beloved Taylor guitar. I was on my way into Tickles Dockside Pub to play at the Open Mic Wednesday. It's a decent pull from Honeymoon Bay into Crown Bay Marina, but the nutshell rows well and I settled into a long and easy stroke. Then I heard the roar of a speedboat approaching from the south. I stared into the night and spotted an unlit, small cigarette type boat roaring past me. Since he was already passing me, I did not bother to shine my flashlight. About ten seconds later -- POW! -- I was in the water, bewildered, and trying to swim out from under the overturned forward two thirds of the pram. Amazingly, I had only received some nasty cuts and bruises. I might easily have lost a limb or two. Or my head.
Well the fellow who ran me over--in a second unlit speedboat which I did not see--at least was nice enough to pick me up. And he gave me a ride back to my boat after he got off of his cell phone, alerting all concerned parties that he might be a little late for his date that night since he just ran me over.
On the way to my boat
I told him that I would not sue him for nearly killing me, but
I would request some compensation for the damages he did, which amounted to around
$5,000. He immediately challenged that, saying I did not have my light on
(never mind the fact that he did not have a light on either ... and was travelling
in excess of twenty knots). Below is what my nutshell looked like the following morning:
So the following morning I went to the US Coast Guard. They told me that they could not do anything about it because they did not see it, but that I might file a report to the police. Which I did. The police told me to return in one week, which I did as well. I received a photo copy of the handwritten report, for which they charged me seven dollars.
At this point I was now transitioning from shock and denial to anger and acceptance (as the pyschobabblers might say) ... accepting that no one had any interest in helping me, and that I should just be glad that I was still alive with injuries that will heal. Besides, blue water sailors are some of the very few true individuals on this earth, and as such they do not depend on anyone to bail them out--sometimes literally (consider that in this age of massive corporate mollycoddling). So by not bellyaching and taking my lumps, I could count myself a member of that great brotherhood. It made me feel better thinking that way, anyhow.
Of course, there was no question as to whether or not I was going to build another nutshell pram. As soon as I arrived back in the great State of Maine I began work on the new dinghy.
I begin by laminating up the midship
frame and forekeel, which I make out of 1/8x1" strips of Douglas
fir.
Here they are all cut and faired, ready to go in the boat (the
1x3" piece of pine on the midship frame is simply a cleat
to hold it to the jig):
Next we cut out the bow and stern transoms from 3/4" Okoume marine plywood and temporarily fasten them to the jig using drywall screws. With that the skeleton is complete and we are ready to begin planking:
First comes the bottom, made from a sheet of 3/8" (9mm) Okoume marine ply. It takes a fair bit of bending force to get it down on the jig. Even after it was screwed and epoxied in place, I had to use a lead brick to keep forward section pressed against the moulds.
A little lofting is required to transfer from paper plans to plywood cutouts. The wooden
batten helps to smooth the long curves ... also serves as a sanity check--if it doesn't
nicely bend through your marks, chances are you goofed.
Next come the ever amusing garboard planks. This time the port plank put up the big
fight. I have yet to have those buggers lay down nicely without some persuasion.
A bevel plane is the best tool for beveling the plank egdes so as to maximize the
overlap (and therefore the strength of the watertight bond) between it and
the next plank. Speaking of which, we are now up to the middle planks:
Finally come the sheer strakes. Since I plan to leave these planks "bright",
I apply a wood sealer to the outside of these planks to prevent staining and
perhaps scratches which might occur during the construction process
(they still got scratched, but hey, I tried). I also have to use overlapping
buttons on the end of drywall screws to press the sheer planks against the middle planks
while the epoxy is curing, since it will be impossible to hide the screw holes later on.
We now have a hull ...
After some preliminary fairing-- soon the entire outside of the hull will be sheathed with
epoxy and fiberglass roving up to the sheer strake--we can get on with the really fun
step of removing the hull from the moulding jig. And the baby boat is born ...
Next come the four quarter knees, which serve to anchor the sheer strakes to the
bow and stern transoms and prevent destructive flexing. They are made of solid
3/4" mahogany, attached with screws from the outside of the planks and transoms,
as well as epoxy.
Now we can add the rubrails, which will further strengthen the gunwales and protect
them against minor jolts and bumps from docks, other boats, etc.
(thought not against rogue speedboats, unfortunately). The plans call for mahogany,
but I did not have any suitable mahogany on hand, and mahogany is expensive, so
I went with that nice piece of ash I have had laying around for some time. Waste not,
want not ...
The dagger board trunk is made of 3/8" Okoume with mahogany for the bedlogs and
the endpieces. It is put together with screws and epoxy.
The endpieces go though the bottom to help anchor the trunk. The trunk is screwed
in place from the underside (#8 x 1.25" screws going up into the bedlogs) after
applying a liberal amount of 3M 5200 adhesive sealant.
The entire hull is sheathed with 10oz roving and West epoxy up to the sheer strake. This
will insure the hull is watertight, as well as protect it against abrasion.
Now comes the keel. Again I used ash instead of mahogany for this purpose.
Once shaped, it is screwed on from the underside and then fiberglassed over, using
10oz roving and epoxy. Finally a brass oval strap is screwed into the bottom to protect
it from groundings on rocky shores.
Since I still have the sailing rig from the old pram, the construction phase has now
ended, which means it's time to start painting. Let's begin with the inside. I shall
paint it Bristol Beige (to match the decks on the mother ship), using Brightside
topside paint with some flattener added.
Next comes the outside of the hull up to the sheer strake. This will be painted black
to match Ruth Avery's topsides. Two coats of microballoons primer are required to
smooth out all the dimples from the fiberglass roving underneath (and even then they are
still visible in places). Following that comes three coats of Brightside paint:
Now let's put it all together (hooray!). I still had the old (synthetic) canvas
rubrail from the previous dinghy. It's a little scuffed up, but at $7 per
foot it looks plenty good to me.
Some of the hardware was saved (one pair of rowlocks), and I still had the entire sailing
rig. Also the forward and middle thwarts were recovered, so I merely varnished them and
fitted them to the new hull.
And so here she is, one done dinghy:
