Cursing at Dodgers

Fortunately, I have a job and have been too busy to play with sailboats this winter.  I have neighbors who aren’t so lucky.  Unfortunately, however, I have a job and have been to busy to play with sailboats, thus the 4 months since my last post.

I’ve been slowly working on the dodger. I made a form and laminated two pieces of 3mm marine plywood, glassed them and painted it with Interlux Pre-Kote in preparation for
Brightside.  I found that the ends had too tight of a bend radius, so I put 1.5mm deep cuts with my Skilsaw every half inch for 12 inches on each end, which worked well. By happy coincidence, my work bench was almost the ideal size for strapping the plywood to the form with motorcycle straps.  In the process I made two serious mistakes.

First, doing math in my head under the influence of wine, I mis-calculated the ratio for the epoxy.  I filled the pot to the 3 oz mark with part B then to the 12 oz mark with part A.  12:3 is 4:1 right? Would you believe I’m a licensed professional engineer?

It was from Tap Plastics and was a 4:1 ratio, and apparently doesn’t cure well at 3:1.  I’ve since learned that 1:1 or 1:2 ratio epoxy is more forgiving.  After laminating the two sheets, I just kept using the same amounts.  When I finished glassing the top.  It just didn’t feel right – it was hard, but sticky.  When I got to the bottom, it was worse.  I actually used a torch to heat and remove the uncured epoxy and glass and re-glassed it.  The re-glass job was gratifyingly hard and not sticky. 

Second, I misunderstood the use of Pre-Kote and effectively was trying to use it as a fairing compound. It would gum up the sand paper. Perhaps it just needs time to harden, I thought..  Being busy, a month went by and it was still like day old latex paint.  I could scratch it off with my fingernail. 

At this point, I’m of two minds.  One is to use the 7/8 dodger frame I got as dumpster salvage and go traditional canvas and the other is start over.  The little bit of stripping I did suggests that starting over would be the lesser amount of work if I wanted to stick with the hard dodger.

Dreaming of Dodgers

Not the Dodgers, I’m probably more of a Mariners fan, but dodgers, the fiberglass or canvas enclosure installed on a sailboat to help you “dodge” wind, rain and waves.  Sojourn’s dodger is in pretty sad shape.  It has a flimsy aluminum frame and vinyl windows which were opaque long before joining our family.

I got a quote to have some new windows and zippers put in it, but it came to $400.  I just felt that was too much to put in to a faded old piece of canvas with and inadequate frame.  So, I decided to fix it myself. I managed to get one of the three windows replaced before destroying my wife’s sewing machine. 

Now I needed a sewing machine and a dodger.  I went to the only sewing machine store within my radius of traffic tolerance, generally Mukilteo, Everett and Lynnwood.  They took one look at my dead machine and said “yeah, plastic frame.  We only recommend those to people who want to dip their toe in the proverbial sewing water.”  She pointed me to the machine that “all boat owners buy,” a Pfaff Select 3.0. At $600, I was going to be the exception.  I had read the blogs and Don Casey’s book, which all said that you could do all of the canvas work you wanted with a $150 classic all metal sewing machine, but with no experience, I couldn’t bring my self to buy one on Ebay without touching it. 

I talked her into showing me a very simple $200 metal frame sewing machine. I brought in some canvas to test it.  After playing with that for a while, she had me sew a piece of silky delicate material to the end of my folded piece of canvas with the Pfaff.  I could feel $600 evaporating from my wallet as the walking foot climbed from the delicate silk to several layers of canvas without a hick up.

One of the other problems with Sojourn’s dodger is that it is at exactly the wrong height. Standing on the cockpit floor, I have to duck or stand on my tippy toes to see forward.  I’ve read that it is favorable to be able to look over the dodger.  I can’t go up and still fold the dodger because it will interfere with the traveler.  Going down would mean bonking my head even more frequently.  Sojourn has a tiller, so when I’m sailing, I’m sitting on the combing anyway, so I started looking at concepts that left the dodger up all of the time, only removing the panels when I would otherwise want it down.  This got me to thinking about a hard dodger.

With a couple of notable exceptions, most of the DIY hard dodgers I’ve seen are hideous. They are out of proportion and not matching the style of the rest of the boat. Many could easily be bested in workmanship by your average high school shop class.  There are also a couple of professionally manufactured fiberglass ones that are out of my price range, but look great, Wavestopper being one of them.

I found one photo of one hard dodger in particular, in a gleaming red and white color scheme much as Sojourn’s.  I played around with several variants, all of them too complicated with compound curves.  I’m sure they would be beautiful, but it would require a fiberglass mold and more work than I’m willing to invest.

To be candid, looking at Wavestopper got me thinking about a single curve dodger and plywood.  I’m not sure why he builds them that way as it sounds like he uses a mold.  Perhaps his mold is made from plywood.

My plan is to laminate two pieces of 3 mil Okoume plywood into shape, glass the top and bottom and finish with either one or two part polyurethane. I intend to use 5200 to bond a bolt rope track to the edges to attach the canvas.  I’ve read that it can be used to permanently bond canvas to itself and generally permanently bond anything.

Here is the current concept.  I have the luxury of working with CAD in my daily job so drawing this up and was done in an evening.  The outer curves have a 12 inch bend radii.

Working with Bristol Finish

My wife read my post entitled A super model with shaved eyebrows and with a laugh, suggested that she liked a Hooker with Painted eyebrows better.  As Sojourn is something of a mistress, I guess I have to put up with some jealousy.  Either way, Sojourn's makeover is progressing.

I’ve started refinishing the bright work and selected Bristol Finish.

For those where I was a few months ago, there are basically 4 types of “varnish”.  The first is actually just oil.  Rebecca Wittman would tell you it isn’t an exterior finish and I agree with her.  The second is varnish.  It typically lasts a season, more or less depending on your UV exposure necessitating at least annual maintenance.  There are two formulations of this, interior and spar, the latter having UV resistance and generally a softer, more pliable finish.  It is easy to apply, easy to fix and easy to remove.  Some have suggested epoxy based finishes as a third, but I couldn’t find any evidence that its UV resistance was up to the challenge and it is more difficult to remove.  Finally, Urethane.  There are two categories, single part and two part catalyzing.  The first is often what you get when you buy varnish at the hardware store and aren’t paying attention. The two part is much like the two part urethane paints, but with very little pigment.

Why Bristol?  After spending almost a year reading blogs, reading Rebecca’s Bright work Companion and following Practical Sailor’s two year wood finish tests, I found a lot of conflicting information and even more conflicting options. In the end, Practical Sailor’s report that that it was the leader in their tests in New England, which should have a climate more representative of the northwest than Florida and the fact that the only derogatory comments I could find on the blogs came from 2005 and earlier and the prospect of going several years without re-doing made the decision for me.

And the results – when they say Amber, they mean it.  I think it is beautiful, but I was shocked at how amber it is.  Ben, who coincidentally refinished some of Triumph’s bright work the same week said it is the same color as the Cetol, but much shinier. In three sessions, I put 6 coats on.  Between the second and third coats I sanded lightly, otherwise all coats were within 24 hours of each other.  I probably only have 5 hours into the actual application, and most of that was waiting. I was able to coat the combings, the companionway frame and engine panel frame. 

I found that vertical surfaces were somewhat difficult and tend to run.  Horizontal surfaces tend to come out amazing.  Foam brushes make for more bubbles, but less runs.  In the end, I’ll likely put the last coat on with a bristle brush, but I might try rolling and tipping. 

My biggest complaint at this point is that it runs pretty easily and runs build on runs.  If you look at it an angle it is full of runs.  I seem to recall the instructions giving the practical method of doing exactly what I did and then sanding for a final top coat.  In my case it will likely be a maintenance coat next year as I tackle the hand and toe rails.  One other complaint is that it is so shiny, I can’t tell dry from wet.  I had paint section by section, placing my cup at the end of each section to help make sure I got it all.  I suppose that is a good thing.

I washed the teak with a scrub brush and oxalic acid, let it dry then sanded with 180 grit and my palm sander.  I didn’t get to the root of the grain, which had a small amount of weathered gray, but would have had to remove a lot of wood to do so.  I then wiped with acetone and used a bristle brush for the first 2 coats, foam for the 2nd two and a brush for the final two.  The brush is easier to control runs with, but much more prone to bubbles.

In the final, (well, almost done, protected for winter anyway) analysis, I’m quite happy with the result.  From 5 feet away, it is fantastic.  Sojourn went from a tired old woman to mistress with a new lease on life with a few brush strokes.

A Supermodel With Shaved Eyebrows

Sojourn’s eyebrow rails are in dire need of attention.  Until recently I believed they were the source of water ingress into the cabin; now, I’m not so sure.  Most of the holes on the starboard side don’t fully penetrate the cabin top. The port side is worse but I haven’t gotten to that side yet.

I was discussing my options with Ben, who owns a beautiful Mason 43.  He introduced me to Marinetex and suggested a couple of options.  I could remove them and  fill the holes.  I could install new rails, finished in the garage and “glued on” with 4200, thus removing any water ingress path or to reduce maintenance,or I could replace them with a stripe to match the cove stipe. 

He had previously had the same dilemma with his boat, but decided that without the rails,“Triumph” would look like a super model with shaved eyebrows.”  It just wouldn’t fit.

Sojourn is no supermodel, but I’ve decided she’d look somewhat plain with out something. I’m still trying to decided which way to go

Baby Steps

The Milltown Sailing Association, of which I’m now a member and newly minted racer had it’s annual Oak Harbor Challenge last weekend. It is a cruise and sailboat race between the two clubs held, this year, in Oak Harbor.  My kids are too young, and not wanting to scare the older passengers (mom) with excessive heel angles, we went for the cruise, but skipped the race. I’m sure that had I participated, Mill Town would have successfully defended the cup – perhaps next year.

As preparation for our first overnighter as a family, we spent the night on Sojourn in her slip the weekend before. It may seem silly if you don’t have kids, but with a family of five, kids ranging from three to seven, routine is not to be dismissed.  Potty routine, bed time routine, feeding and all of the other routines are important.  Breaking them can have consequences.  Just imagine three days on the water with a cranky three year old missing her favorite stuffed puppy.  Or worse, no stuffed puppy and no cork screw!

Carrie had some things to do, so the girls and I headed up to the marina to start the adventure. One of the things I’ve enjoyed about sailing is the friendly people.  My slip neighbor Travis, whom I had just met, lent me a dinghy for the summer.  The girls and I took it for a row to Jetty Island.  I’m happy to report that we survived our test trip and that it was helpful.  We would have survived without it, but we generated a list of several little things that Sojourn didn’t have.    

So, the big day arrived and we set out for Oak Harbor, a 24 nautical mile trip from Everett.  Under ideal conditions it’s about 4.5 hours to get there.  As is often the case,our planned noon departure time turned into three o’clock. By 4:30 had been under sail for an hour and were starting to unwind, but I came to the realization that at current speed we wouldn’t make Oak Harbor by midnight let alone dinner time.  In fact, we wouldn’t make it until nearly dusk, motoring all the way.  I called the Langley harbormaster, who had an open slip, so we made reservations and enjoyed another hour under sail. 

This turned out to be a great decision.  I’d been to Langley before, but this was the first trip with the kids.  Langley is town with a small harbor on the west side of Saratoga Passage.  Fish abound around the pilings, star fish adorn the sea wall at low tide and it hosts a myriad of other fascinations to a family of newly minted cruisers.

We had dinner at a Prima Bistro in town.  It was suggested to us by some locals, because their menu was sensitive to special dietary needs.  My kids might be the pickiest ever conceived, so eating out at a new place while meeting everyone’s real dietary needs is always a challenge. They did indeed cater to special needs. We ordered calamari, which was fried in chick pea flower, so it is gluten free. It might be the best we’ve ever had.  We told our kids that they were a special kind of chicken nugget. Jack declared he didn’t want the “coral-ey” ones as all three gobbled them down in blissful ignorance.

The next morning, we woke up to calm seas, light fog and a low tide.  Of the hundreds if not thousands of toys and pieces of toys that fill our house to the brim, non has provided more mystery and entertainment than the back shell of a Dungeness crab, no longer needed by its owner.  For about an hour, all three buried, un-buried and re-buried it without ever mustering the courage to actually touch it.

After an omelet on the crotchety old kerosene Shipmate stove and some coffee, we set out for Oak Harbor on water more suitable for skiing than sailing.  The kids were not quite used to the new routine and were missing their video games and television, so it wasn’t all smooth sailing.  Sojourn’s new engine didn’t miss a beat and I was happy both to get some hours on her just to build confidence and to boil any accumulated water out of the crank case.  About 8 miles out, the wind started to build out of the north west, so I uncovered and hoisted the sails.  Within minutes it had built to about 10 knots and we were under sail, free of the droning diesel we’d grown used to over the last 4 hours.  We settled into a nice close reach making 5.5 knots, gently heeled over.  That peaceful last hour was gone in what felt like an instant and we found ourselves heading up a channel full of sailboats going the other way – the race was on.  We waited for them to pass, headed into the wind and furled the sails. After tying up at Oak Harbor, I couldn’t find the bottle of wine.  Upon further investigation, my wife confessed that the kids were on her nerves and she had found a cork screw.

Regrettably, there were no other kids on this cruise due to it being a racing cruise, but we found other sources of entertainment.  Once tied up and waiting for the racers to come back, we tried a little fishing.  I had a can of brightly colored power bait or something like it and Jack wasn’t having any success fishing.  A 9 year old came along and asked why we weren’t using muscles.  He reached down under the dock, pulled up a handful of muscles, crushed one, pulled out its “heart”, set it on the hook and within minutes jack had a fish.  Like I said, we are newly minted cruisers.  I convinced Jack that it was a right of passage to kiss your first fish.  Jack spent the next several hours trying to muster the courage to touch one and talking various bystanders into baiting his hook for him.

After hamburgers with the racers, we turned in.  The next morning we got news that Carrie’s grandmother wasn’t doing well, so we said fair well and cast off making breakfast under way.  There was little wind, and what wind there was taunted me.  We motored almost all the way home, dead into the wind. Occasionally it would shift and whenever the wind vane would show enough apparent angle to get some thrust out of the sails, I would hoist them.  It only panned out for perhaps 20 minutes of the whole trip.  Almost the minute I would them it would shift back to dead ahead or even across the bow.  I left the main up while we motored for about an hour, giving me perhaps a quarter knot.

The ride home was peaceful.  The kids seemed to lose site of the games and television and just enjoy themselves. Unlike the trip up there were one kid always seemed to delight in the other squealing, they got along just fine.  I know they wouldn’t call it Disney World, but if my aim is achieved it will be the first of many fond memories.  As for Carrie, I am encouraged as I overheard her tell one of the fellow cruisers that she hopes for a bigger boat someday. As I write this, I’m sitting in the shade on the north shore of lake Winnebago watching with envy, a sailboat work its way toward amongst the beginnings of white caps.  

Ludicrous Speed

Since repowering Sojourn, I’ve taken it easy, rarely getting above 2000 RPM.  My knot meter isn’t working and was never calibrated, so I don’t actually know how fast that pushes her – perhaps 3.5-4 knots, obviously just shy of light speed.  Yesterday Annie and her friend Loren were begging to go to Jetty Island.  We only had about an hour and it’s about a half mile each way, so light speed was going to be too slow.  The river was calm, so we tied every thing down, took our seats and pushed Sojourns power lever all the way forward to, yes, ludicrous speed.

Up river, the GPS settled on 5.5 knots.  20 minutes later, it settled on 7.3 knots on the return course. So, ludicrous speed averaged 6.4kts on the GPS with the engine turning 3500-3600 RPM and no evidence of soot or smoke.  So for Islander 30 MKII and Bahama owners with Beta 14’s, if any others exist, here is a data point for you.

Incidentally, this sinks the transom to the point that the exhaust fitting, which is normally 4-5 inches above the water line, is completely submerged.  The Beta 14 came with a 2:1 ratio gear box and is spinning a 13X8 2 blade Michigan Sailor prop. 

Musty Old Boat With a Hint of Lemon

Well that lasted about a week.  Actually two, but about two years less than I was hoping for.  It was warm on Sunday and Sojourn’s cabin was about 80 degrees.  I opened the companion way and was greeted with the familiar odor of musty old boat with a hint of diesel, albeit with slightly less diesel and a hint of lemon.  

I’m dismayed to report that lemon oil was very short lived.  The faded color of the wood has largely returned as well.  Hopefully Rebecca Whitman's advise on this will be better than Don Casey’s.  That said, the lemon oil took about an hour.  Proper oiling will take a lot longer. I guess you get what you work for.