Sojourn’s Ten Dollar Tiller

We cruised to Port Ludlow with Milltown a couple of weeks ago and came home in need of a new tiller. Making our way south, we motored into 20 knot winds and six foot waves for a couple of hours before turning west at Possession Point. We turned right, hoisted the sails, and after the bumpy ride it was a surprisingly nice sail to Hood Canal. Initially, I sailed by a reefed main alone, but it felt like she could handle some more, so I raised the 130. A little later, took the reef out of the main and  sailed under full canvas at 6 knots.  We timed the current well, so we were making 8.5 over ground.  

Arriving at Hood Canal about an hour before dusk in diminishing wind, I decided to drop the sails.  After doing so, I headed back to the cockpit and managed to trip on something, perhaps the line I had securing the dodger. As I look back, I’m amazed that the only mark on me or Sojourn was her broken tiller.

The next 30 minutes where an adventure as the water is shallow, the marker is at least 200 yards from where my new chart plotter say it is and the current was pushing me toward the rocks and the alleged marker at about two knots.  Someone later told me they installed a new marker recently.

Seeing that I was physically a few hundred yards from the marker, I decided to try to mend it, knowing I would have to drop the hook in a couple of minutes.  I found an old quick clamp, some utility cord and a nylon strap to get me the rest of the way to my destination.  Carrie and the kids had no idea any of this had happened.  Wow. Sojourn is filthy!

In Port Ludlow, I cut the splintered part of the tiller off with my Leatherman and Tony lashed it to the fitting.  Wow, I kind of like the feel of the shorter tiller. I’m not sure why the tiller was 5 feet long in the first place. Twelve inches makes for quite a bit more room in the cockpit.

Being the glutton for punishment that I am, I decided to build a tiller rather than buy one.  I don’t know what they cost, but my foggy memory says I saw one at Fisheries for about $150.  I’ve been engaged in some wood working projects anyway, so I bought a piece of ash with a knot in it for $10 at the half price wall at Midway Plywood. It was my first introduction to ash, which I picked on the rumor that boat oars are made of it.  It works and looks much like oak.  Like walnut and a few other woods, its saw dust has a pleasant odor. Given the knot, I couldn’t just glue two pieces together and cut it with a jig saw.  Also, I surmise that laminating adds a little strength as the grain is interrupted and thus any potential large cracks.

I traced the old tiller profile on some MDF, modified the curve a little and cut it with my jig saw to make a form.  I then cut and planed the ash into 1-3/4 x 1/4 strips. I wanted to use alternating light and dark wood like the old tiller, but there wasn’t any to be had on the half price wall and I didn’t want to spend more on materials than I could have spent on a finished tiller. I had some walnut on hand, but didn’t know if it was a good “wet” wood.  Teak is prohibitively expensive.  According to Midway, Sapele (pronounced SA-PEE-LEE) is the species of choice for boat builders these days.

I smeared Titebond III wood glue on a couple of strips and clamped them to form. It may have worked but, I just wasn’t comfortable with the wood glue, so I switched to epoxy.  I ran the cured tiller through the planer and then proceeded to carve the handle, which I botched badly.  My last ditch effort to save it made for a much better finished product as it turned out. I cut the botched handle off and made a jig to get it to spin up in my lathe.  I turned the end down and then essentially gun drilled it with a 3/4” forstner bit.   I turned another piece of ash into a handle with a 3/4” shaft.  I slathered epoxy in the hole, inserted and clamped the handle.  Voila!  I even managed to get the grain to match up pretty well.  The picture shows it with its second coat of Bristol Finish.

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.