Screw the cold:
I got sick of being frozen out of work. Its time for epoxy!
Daytime temps have been floating around…
Alright, who the hell put &%(&(!@# Rocky mountain high on this computer? SERIOUSLY? How the hell do I blog listening to John Denver? Long Beach Allstars, thats better. Sorry.
The daytime temp in the shop has been hovering in the 10-20 degree F range forever. It warmed up to a balmy 34 the other day, so I pulled the trigger on the bottom panels. As previously discussed, Im building this boat without the ability to heat the shop, so your humble (?) narrator is heating the working surfaces only with radiant heat in an attempt to get curing temps high without throwing heat in the whole structure. Here is a shot of the (rather ghetto) setup.
My cheap version, 2 500W worklights. Theoretically 100W of heat, right? Theoretically Communism works too….
A bit more strategic and effective, the 1500W radiant heater:
Surprisingly, the lights are getting me 50F to 60F surface temps, and the big heater is giving up to 70F surface temps. No bubbles from offgassing as well. Its working well, so well that I have the second panel gluing as we speak. We will see if it sustains temps throughout the night as we expect 20 or less temp wise tonight.
While laying up the first panel, I cut out the two side panels…
WOW, I think the lead singer of Long Beach Allstars is tone deaf. Merle Haggard? Nah. Believe it or not, Moulin Rouge soundtrack. That works nicely.
The two sides are stacked aside, and look like this:
The reason they are sitting aside, and that I can only glue up one set of ‘glass butt blocks at a time is SWMBO(google it)’s car MUST fit in the garage at night, otherwise said boat project goes away. It makes for a rather perculiar looking garage sight at night:
Crack! And other aggravating noises.
You will have to absolve me of any wrongdoing this past week. I felt a tad ill, which progressed to overall feelings of assiness. A diagnosis of pneumonia helped explain, but didn’t alleviate. I will dry my own tears…
I made the mistake of working alone, sick, and out of boredom. I had been sitting on my round bits for a week trying to get better, so I popped out to the ol boat shop to see what I could accomplish. Got side #1 placed alonside the boat without mishap, and felt good about myself. Its actually quite impressive how the butt blocks I did (one sided only so I can be lazy about fairing the sides) held. Using the 18oz woven tape, they really are strong as all hell. That is, until, you botch a lamination and leave a big hooey in it. Hooey is a clinical term defining a joint or line which should be straight but somehow contains both sine and cosine waves. I picked up side #2, got it about 75% in the gap I wanted it to sit until I could stitch it when BANG! Massive joint failure, and I think I somewhat understand that nauseating feeling of a hang gliger pilot watching the wing fold up around him as he plummets to earth.
Enter the Wheel Of Swearing!
Take &)*!@ and add &%)( to it, creates a whole new meaning! %&)* added to any noun becomes an action phrase! Like those old Batman shows, only with more COLOR!
Well, the only thing you can do is fix it, so I cleaned the joint out (as the glass was still in tact and looked good), refilled with epoxy, cured, and we were off. So the next day I pick it up, feels nice and solid. I place a sawhorse against the jig to keep the panel from tipping out, two blocks of concrete to hold it in the stern and start moving again. I get it 99% into place when it decided to l e a n out a little from the jig. This was your typical Jerry Bruckheimer countdown to oblivion moment. I couldn’t get there fast enough. The cussing was beginning to ooze from me, dribbling out as I felt it in the core of me. BANG! Same joint, same place.
AAAAAHHHHHHHH! As a passerby, this might have seemed an odd time in our neighborhood. Birds scattered. Deer ran in all directions, and as fast as possible. The coyotes, pinned their ears back and huddled under a tree. Neighborhood animals cowered in corners and peed slightly on the nice rug in the house. The words that came out of my shop were foreign, sounding as if a college sports athlete was speaking in tongues, but with Tourettes….
This time (as you can see above) I sanded the glass back off. I started over. I type this with an itchy fiberglass mottling on my hands. I apologize to my neighbors and those within a 17 mile radius for what was said and any problems I caused with migratory animal patterns.
On a lighter note, I really live having a vacuum on my sander, WHAT A DIFFERENCE! I highly recommend it…
Some nice shots, and ones Im going to post over at the bateau forum for opinion from the designer. Here are the bottom panels hard-stitched together to see how well they will take the curves:
Very pleased with the results, I decided to cut all the stitches out! As Jacques would recommend, final fit-up should be done with loose stitches all around and slowly brought to closure in a fair and smooth fashion.
Here’s one from the back, showing the looseitude of the boat, waiting for side #2 to go on:
From the front, bad lighting:
And another, with better composition by the photographer (flash was on):
Its progressing, but its snowing heavily in the hills, so I will be skiing this week a bit. Hope to hang the other side by thurs night, and will hit up another post then.
Hopefully, without a BANG!
A sense of accomplishment, hell why not.
If I drank, I’d have a beer right about now.
I managed to get the breakable board (tested twice!) placed and stitched. Although I must say it made some HORRENDOUS noises. I later found that it was just a noisy interface between expensive good plywood and the garbage that I cut the B form out of. Squeaking, creaking, crunching, you name it. Sounded like that last stay you had in the old crappy hotel that was 8 miles outside of town, and the two twentysomethings were having some sort of noise pollution contest to see who could be louder in bed. Lucky for you, the headboard of yours happened to be exactly 4″ apart.
While the sides are in place, and everything is stitched roughly in place, theres a bit of a hook near the transom:
This little action gap can cause some handling problems later, so I will be going to the designer about how to remedy it.
Here she is, fully skinned:
And an interesting shot to show you just what okume plywood can do. This required slow bending, but no water, no steam, no heat (in fact it was colder than a well digger’s arse when I put them there), no special treatment at all.
And one of the posterior for posterity:
The last of the general carpentry on the hull is finished. I took out roughly half the stitches holding the boat together now that I have the shape I want. The full number of stitches helped to get the panels in the right place, then once satisfied I removed a bunch, taking the ones that are less important or were somewhat loose anyways. Much was done to make the panels suitably fair, including trimming panels, tight stitches, loose stitches, weights, 2x4s, lifting from below, and just sitting in the moaning chair staring the boat down daring it to relax. This, and the removal of the bow mold got the lines fair and happy. The bow mold was either misshapen, or just wasn’t ideally designed as it was holding most of the front of the boat’s weight on the bow mold, pulling the A frame out of its location and making the bottom unfair. Removing it remedied many little nuances of problems, and Im quite happy to show you the results.
From the bow, complete with excessive lighting!
A little closer, from the bow:
From the transom, along an 8′ long aluminum straightedge showing the trueness (probably going to need some quickfair when its fairing time), just as the camera died: