A Voyage to Remember

                                                       A Voyage to Remember, Miami to Panama

When we were snorkeling in Maui recently, talk turned to snorkeling in Panama and our life there.  I recalled an exciting trip I took bringing a boat to Panama from Florida.  Our friends suggested that the trip was interesting and unique enough that I should record it on paper.  So my attempt follows.

When I was on active duty in the US Navy, 1966-68, I initially attended navigation school in San Diego.  The subject was interesting enough to me that I graduated #1 in my class, and continued to study available nautical references on board the two ships on which I served.  Spending many hours per day on the ship’s bridge deck for months at a time (crossing the Pacific twice, navigating the Mekong Delta, patrolling the Vietnam coast and Gulf of Tonkin, and cruising to Japan for maintenance) provided plenty of time for such review.  I became an enlisted supervisor in the navigation department.  Later, in 1976 while visiting Hawaii, I picked up a reference on Polynesian navigation techniques (We, the Navigators) to help understand how the early voyagers were able to find their way in the ocean’s vastness.  In late 1980, our family was living in Panama.  My assistant and her husband were buying a used 46’ trawler (single diesel engine) in Florida which they intended to bring to Panama to live and cruise on.  They asked me if I would act as navigator for the trip from Miami to Colon, Panama.

They offered to pay for my flight to Miami, which I declined.  If I were to do this, I wanted it to be from a sense of friendship rather than any monetary obligation.  I provided a list of the different nautical charts, references, and instruments which would be necessary for such a trip.  My assistant’s husband, Charles, was a retired US Navy diver who now worked for the Panama Canal Company.  He was to fly to Miami and spend one week examining and preparing the boat, including obtaining the necessary navigation supplies, before we left port.  He was one very tough individual and totally fearless.  He recruited a third crew member, Bill, who I hadn’t previously met but who seemed like a solid character.  It would be just the three of us on a quick voyage back to Panama.

I had talked to one of my patients, then employed as a canal pilot, who had previously been a Caribbean charter captain.  He gave me a route recommendation, which appeared reasonable, and loaned me his sextant.  I flew to Miami on a Saturday in early December, took a taxi to the yacht basin, and was prepared to leave harbor the following morning.  Upon arrival, I asked about the navigational charts and references and was stunned to discover that none of the publications I requested had been purchased because it was now December 6 and the contained data was only good through the end of the year.  They were deemed too expensive to obtain for such a short period of use, but, without the sight reduction tables, the sextant was useless.  Also, only one chart had been obtained.  It was an overall chart showing Miami toward the top edge and Panama at the bottom edge.  With such a large area to cover, the chart lacked any detail of depths and features of the various coastlines.  Additionally, the trawler had only been maneuvered on various headings once to check the accuracy and deviation of the compass.  The boat was equipped with a radar set, but the range was only a few miles.  LORAN coverage of the southern Caribbean was lacking at that time, and GPS had not yet been invented.  This was shaping up to be quite a challenge, and I was glad I had some knowledge of navigation without dependency on instruments.

Checking on supplies, the trawler was almost empty with very little on board for ballast, just some groceries, a few tools, and our suitcases.  Our only refrigeration was a single large ice chest.  On Sunday morning, we set out on our adventure.  The first leg was to follow the coast of Florida southwest to Key West, then head straight south to the coast of Cuba.  The hurricane season officially ends November 30; we were now in December but encountering strong winds.  As we headed south from Key West we were headed into nighttime, crossing the Gulf Stream with a strong current from the west opposing strong wind from the southeast which made for large, steep waves against our under-ballasted hull.  Forty-six feet may sound like a large vessel, but, on the open ocean, it is a tiny presence.  The strong wind created a surface haze of spray allowing very limited visibility.  Instead of an enclosed bunk, I had a bed to (try to) sleep in at night.  I tried to hold onto the bed, wrapping my arms and legs around the mattress while resting, but was completely thrown out of the bed once by the lurching hull.  Once I heard a scream from Bill, “We are going over!” as the boat slid sideways down the face of a wave with the rudder seemingly useless.  Fortunately, before we were rolled in a trough by the next wave, the rudder finally caught hold and the bow came around sufficiently to face it.  When it was my time to go on watch, I filled a paper cup with water and held it in my hand.  If I were to fall asleep, I would drop the cup, and it would be my alarm.  It worked.  Everyone needed what rest they could get; there was no asking someone else to take part of your watch.

We were glad to see the morning, but were now presented with a new problem.  Our large chart showed no detail of the Cuban coast.  As we continued south, we wanted to approach the coast as a navigational reference but not get so close that Cuban gunboats would escort us into port.  The solution was Polynesian navigation using cloud formations.  Distinctive cloud formations are found over islands.  Although we never actually saw Cuba, we followed its cloud formations west along the coast while staying offshore.

As evening set in, we were ready to jump off from the west end of Cuba toward Mexico.  It is an easy dead reckoning exercise (hard to miss Mexico) but it also meant re-crossing the Gulf Stream as it flows north.  We subtracted a few degrees from our compass course to allow for the current and set off into the night.  The next morning we sighted Isla Mujeres and pulled into port for refueling.  That afternoon we headed back out to sea with Cozumel to starboard and the Swan islands as our next intended waypoint.  Heading southeast, we encountered rising wind and waves from the northeast.  As the hull angled into the face of each oncoming wave, it was obvious that the "thump, thump, thump" sound of the big single diesel slowed significantly.  The engine was losing power.  Upon inspection it was discovered that sludge, from the diesel fuel we just received, was clogging the fuel filter.  The engine was being starved for fuel.  To clean the fuel filter we needed to stop the engine.  Then it was discovered that the alternator, used to charge the batteries, was not working.  The batteries were very low on electrical charge.  If we stopped the engine, it was doubtful that the batteries held enough electrical current to restart it.  It was time to change course and our plan.

We turned to run with the wind toward the southwest for a smoother ride and slowed boat speed slightly to match the speed of the waves and reduce engine load.  We shut off almost all electrical equipment to save the batteries, and Charles went down in the belly of the boat, holding electrical wires by hand on the batteries until the battery acid started to bubble, in an attempt to recharge the batteries.  Through the night we steered manually, using a flashlight to read the compass, and no running lights.  When it was my turn to lie in bed, I wondered what the future would hold if that engine stopped; what bit of shoreline or reef would the drifting hull crunch coral on?  Fortunately, the engine kept "thumping".

The next morning we could see some of the Bay Islands near the coast of Honduras in the distance off to port.  The wind and waves were still strong.  Charles thought that the downwind island was Roatan and suggested we aim for it.  I pointed out that if he was wrong, we would be unable to work our way back to any of the islands further upwind.  So we angled our course to port and headed for the nearest island.  It turned out to be Roatan.  The old wooden wharf was on the lee side of the island, allowing us to get out of the wind and motor quietly up to the dock (where I was to receive quite a surprise).  I was standing on the bow, dock line in hand, peering intently at the dock’s shabby state with substantial holes punched in its gray, wooden-planked surface.  I wanted to make sure that when I leaped to the dock to tie up, I didn’t put a foot through one of those holes.  Suddenly, a young black man came out on the dock, and his first words, in clear English were, “Hey, Did you hear that John Lennon was shot and killed?”  Here I thought I was in some remote place far from the beaten path, and, instead, I was getting the latest news in my own language!  Mainland Honduras inhabitants speak Spanish, but on the Islands, they speak English due to previous British influence.  In Roatan we were able to get an alternator from a wrecked yacht which Charles and Bill then installed.  The fuel filter was also cleaned, and we had a good meal and rest at anchor before leaving the next morning.

We cruised east along the Honduran coast taking turns on watch.  The following morning when I came up on deck, I was immediately concerned.  I looked down at the ocean and saw churned brown water.  I yelled to Charles that we were in too shallow of water and were in danger of running aground.  He replied that the radar range he had taken indicated that we were a sufficient distance from the beach.  I pointed out that the radar was not being reflected from the gently sloping sand beach, but from a line of tall palm trees several hundred yards behind the beach.  We immediately turned out to sea until we were in clear blue water.  Later that day we passed Cabo Gracias a Dios which held a lesson for us.  The Cabo is the outlet of a major river marking the border between Honduras and Nicaragua.  A submerged tongue of silt, an invisible delta, stretches miles out to sea at this location.  You can be miles from the coast and still run aground in very shallow water.  Several ship wrecks stood as evidence.

From here we headed south and slightly east out on the open seas, away from the Nicaraguan coast, with the next intended waypoint being the island of San Andres.  The weather was now good, and we were able to troll and catch fish for dinner.  Our ice chest no longer had any ice or fresh food so the fish was appreciated.  We were again dead reckoning [basically following a compass course allowing for expected currents and other influences] for navigation.  We never actually saw San Andres but were again aided by Polynesian navigation using wave patterns.  Ocean waves obey the same principles of physics as other types of waves.  When ocean waves or swells reach an island, the lines of wave crests are slowed causing a diffraction or bent angle toward the shallow water; on the lee side of the island you will see a cross-hatched pattern of waves from being diffracted around both ends of the island.  This phenomenon extends for miles downstream from the land.  Our intended path was planned so that if we didn’t actually sight the island we would pass on its lee side, and that is what happened.  Watching the wave pattern closely, you could see the oncoming waves transition to a cross-hatched pattern as we passed on the lee side of San Andres and then resume their undisturbed linear pattern as we came back into the clear.  Observing such a pattern, we knew where we were.

For ancient navigators on the Pacific Ocean, you can understand how important it was for them to understand natural phenomena to expand the “target size” of the islands they were seeking.  From an ocean liner, at some height above the water, the horizon is distant, but from the deck of a small boat the visible horizon may be only 2-3 miles away.  When I was in the US Navy and we were approaching Midway Island in the Pacific, we had the advantage of a huge radar array atop a tall mast and still only detected the low-lying island from about 15 miles away.  The Polynesian navigators understood clouds and waves and had memorized the passing star groupings in an ever-revolving sky with its seasonal variations so that the stars provided a map to follow.  Additionally, they knew the seasonal direction of swells (separate from waves), the patterns of bird flights, as well as other more subtle influences, and had memorized the legends of previous voyages.  Think of it as their equivalent of an advanced college degree.  I had only learned a few of their “beginner” topics.

 

On a calm evening at sea, we continued southeast toward the coast of Panama.  I miss-judged slightly in estimating the coastal currents; when we sighted the Panama coast the next day we were 10-20 miles east of the Colon harbor entrance.  But it was a familiar coast, where my wife and I had spent numerous snorkeling and sailing trips, and only a short cruise to correct our position.  During the trip, each of us had been emotionally self-contained.  We simply focused on the mechanics of getting through each day.  No long conversations; no sharing of concerns.  I still didn't know Bill's background, and he didn't know mine.  However, at the entrance to the harbor Bill turned to me and said, “If I were to meet someone who wanted to do the same trip with me as crew, I would charge them at least $2,000.”  [Remember, these were 1980 dollars] I turned to him and said, “Funny, I was thinking the same thing, and I came up with the exact same price.”

Months later, my wife Dawn and I would cruise with Charles and Jean to the San Blas Islands where we did run aground with their trawler, but that is another story.

Instrument Panel

I have been in the process of transferring gauges and switches from the previous hull to the new boat.  I have also added some new instrumentation- an electric horn, and a fuel gauge.  I ordered an in-panel fuel gauge of the same style and manufacturer as the two existing gauges.  While waiting for the new gauge to arrive, I went ahead and cut out holes in the instrument panel for all three gauges.  You know what they say about assuming; when the gauge arrived, it was a smaller diameter than the other two gauges. Thus, I was left with the task of making a larger hole, 3 1/2" dia., into a smaller 2 1/4" diameter hole.  I had to create a 1" thick wooden doughnut to reduce the hole size.  Done, but time consuming.

At this point I am re-thinking the windshield design, something lower and less upright; also see if I can make it simpler to lower the cost.  In the near future, the 50hp engine will be removed from the previous hull; then that hull will be removed from the trailer so that the new boat can be placed on the trailer and the new 75hp engine installed.  Some logistics involved here. I also had to build an engine stand for the 250 pound 50 hp ETEC engine to be stored on after it is off the transom.  Fortunately, I had enough spare lumber in the shop to complete a sturdy stand.
 

Now for the accessories

The basic hull is now almost finished; just need to add some varnish on a few trim pieces.  The deck hardware is installed.  Next I want to install a fixed fuel tank under the front seat.  I had originally planned to put the fuel tank on the hull midline, but have been unable to find a fill hose either flexible enough or with the proper curve to extend from the tank, under the seat, then up the cockpit side to a stainless steel fuel fill cap to be mounted in the side deck.  So I will shift the tank about 10" to the port (left) side to provide a short, straight path for the fill hose.  Then I will offset the battery installation to the other side of the hull to maintain balance.  From here on it will be a process of adding items: bilge pump, gauges, steering, throttle control, engine, windshield frame, upholstered seats, flotation foam, and bimini top.  But, for some of these items, I need to get the hull out of the shop and onto a trailer.  The clearance to get the hull out of the shop door is about 1/2".  I plan to add a chrome strip along the sheer line, but it will add about 3/4" to the hull beam, so that will also wait until the hull is out of the shop.  Another associated task will be to move the previous boat off the trailer.  Anyone have a trailer I can use temporarily?

A new 75 HP Evinrude outboard has been ordered, and I have arranged for a nearby authorized Evinrude technician to install it.  I shopped across the country on the internet until I found a "deal", saving at least

$2000 below what it would cost to simply buy locally.  Of course, Colorado is a backwater to all things nautical, so such efforts may not be necessary in more lake & ocean blessed parts of the country.  It is all part of the fun of building your own boat.

Sample Developable Design calculations

In 2008 I wrote a short paper on a mathematical method of developable hull design (which is included in this blog, see entry of Dec. 2008).  I tried to keep it short and discuss only general principles, but some subjects are difficult to understand without providing examples.  Without any examples, I don't think it was very meaningful for most readers.  Recently the subject came up again, concerning the difficulty of developable design and the paucity of explanatory material.  Last night, I wrote a short paper concerning a stepwise approach and actual sample calculations involved in creating a hull shape.  The numbers used are from the runabout building in my shop currently.  The paper is not a comprehensive "how to" but hopefully will make the subject more easily understandable.

Sample computations for Developable Design

To illustrate the generation of many exact points along the chine curve, the following is a list of some coordinates of the chine at 7” intervals for the anterior chine of the hull I am now building:  (0, 0, 24.48), (7, 3.2, 22.56), (14, 6.3, 20.7), (21 ,9.2, 18.96), (28, 11.9, 17.34), (35, 14.4, 15.84), (42, 16.7, 14.46) ,.…. until (119, 28.8, 7.2).  This series is generated from the parabolic curve Y = 28.8- (119- X)squared / 490 and also Z = 0.6(28.8-Y) + 7.2 and is valid for values of X between 7 and 119. 

Where did these equations come from?  I want a boat about 6’ by 18’, so I picked a length of about half that which I could evenly divide into 16 segments [more segments = more accuracy]; 16x7 or 112” will suffice, next add a short straight 7” segment onto that.  Have you ever noticed that when you bend a batten, the curve does not extend all the way to the end of the board?  At the batten end there is no fulcrum to apply torque.  Thus, last few inches have no bend unless confined along its entire length.  So I always add a straight segment at the end of every curve.  A 6’ beam gives a 36” half beam; minus some width for flare of the topsides (4”) and an allowance for a chine flat (3.2” at maximum point) and you end up with 28.8” chine beam which is 25.6” of camber in the 112” length and 3.2” of offset along the 7” straight end segment.

To create the forward keel projection, I most frequently use a parallel projection.  A conic projection, with the apex of the cone forward, will create sharp curvatures in that area.  It may be what you want, but it will also be hard to plank.  A conic apex amidships will give a mild curve at the keel, if that is what is desired.  The parallel projection has a controllable curvature and is easy to calculate.  We already have defined a 28.8” chine beam, and picked a 7.2” deadrise to go with it [based on estimated displacement].  So deciding on the slope for this parallel projection from chine to keel only involves selecting an X intercept from the maximum chine point (119, 28.8, 7.2).  The further forward we select this point, the more pronounced will be the forefoot of the keel with sharper curvature.  I chose a point 52.5” forward of maximum chine beam.  52.5/7.5 = 7; 28.8/7.5 = 3.84; 7.2/7.5 = 0.96; thus we have our slope, X: Y: Z=7: 3.84: 0.96 which coincides with the 7” segment intervals.

Now all anterior keel intercepts can be calculated to define the keel.  At the keel, Y=0, and we solve for X and Z.  X@keel= X@chine- (7/3.84)Y@chine and Z@keel= Z@chine– (0.96/3.84)Y@chine. Aft of the point X=119”, the keel is straight and Y=0 & Z=0 for the keel.  After finding the shape of the keel, we next move on to the shape of the transverse frames below the chine.  To calculate transverse frame shapes below the chine, the same slope or ratio is used.  We set X = 14, 28, 42, etc., or whatever other frame locations desired, and solve for Y and Z.  For every 7” forward we project a chine coordinate, the Y dimension will decrease by 3.84” and the Z dimension will decrease by 0.96”.  Simple math creates the entire shape of each frame.  Just connect the dots.

Creating topsides with some flare to the bow, transitioning into a tumblehome stern, seems to be best accomplished with a conic projection forward, linked to another conic apex further aft to create the transition, then a parallel projection extending aft to finish the tumblehome contour.  Conic projections involve finding a third point on a line give two defined points.  Rather than discuss an entire design, I will list selected apices and show sample calculations.

The apex of the first cone was selected at X, Y, Z = (56, 39, 70.2).  This will give a bow angle which matches the forefoot of the keel and provide moderate flare to the topsides not to exceed a 6’ total beam.  A sample calculation would be to calculate the Y and Z intercepts at the frame location X = 98 for a line between the apex and the chine coordinates (119, 31.9, 7.2).  The calculation is Y = 39– (98- 56) (39– 31.9)/ (119– 56) = 34.27 and Z = 70.2– (98– 56) (70.2– 7.2)/ (119- 56)= 28.2.  The relation is that the change in any one coordinate of a point on a line is proportional to the change in any other coordinate.  Since we choose our X intervals, we can then find Y and Z.

When calculations are complete for X between 0 and 126, we select a second apex (91, 35.5, 38.7) which lies on the ruling line, halfway between the first apex and the point of maximum chine beam (to the outside of the chine flat) which is (126, 32, 7.2).  This new apex is then used to calculate points aft to the chine location (189, 32, 7.2).  From there a parallel projection is used with the slope 7: 0.25: 2.25 and defined points every 7” along an extended chine equation to X= 294.  Although the actual chine ends at X= 213.5, the extended portion will determine the shape of the tumblehome at the stern when projected forward.  As more curvature is included in this extended curve, the tumblehome will also increase.

The entire shape is not yet designed, but sequence and type of calculations needed should be understandable.  The results, when finished, are full-size measurements in three dimensions with fair curves and excellent accuracy using simple tools.  Enough offsets are generated that all you have to do is connect the conveniently-spaced dots.

To the deck and onward

With the interior almost complete, the deck has been my focus recently.  First came an initial sheathing with 6mm okoume ply.  Then a second layer of okoume ply was shaped to the deck edge (about 9" wide) and bonded in place.  This was then stained with a deep brown water-based stain, called "Expresso".  Then, major parts of the fore and aft decks were covered with 6mm thick African mahogany planking.  Next a 1/2' by 1/2' channel was refined with a router at the deck-topside junction (sheer) and an appropriate piece of African mahogany was bonded into this sheer joint and sanded to provide a smooth rounded lip to the deck edge.

At this point the stained section of the deck needs another coat of Expresso stain and then it will be ready to be sealed with fiberglass and epoxy.  The recessed portion of the stern, incl. splash well and engine mount, will also need to be glassed.  But we can now also start thinking about the windshield design.  Today I cobbled together a quick mock-up, using cheap ply and duct tape, of a proposed windshield design.  Looks okay for a first attempt, but undoubtedly will be modified in the final version.  We are thinking of having the windshield frame fabricated in metal.  That would require finding a metal fabrication shop willing, equipped, and reasonably priced to do the job.  That may be a task in itself.

My biggest problem holding things up is that I need to sell my current boat to make room in the garage.  The new boat is bigger, heavier, and would benefit from a more powerful engine.  The existing engine, controls, hydraulic steering, and trailer could be transferred to the new boat, but would make the existing boat even less marketable.  When I built sailboats, they were so much cheaper to equip that I could sell them much more cheaply.  I never count my labor as a cost; it is just something I enjoy doing.  It replaces golf and a gym membership.            

Slow but Steady Progress

 I have been working on the boat steadily, but it is a project I do in my spare time, so progress has been slow.  My job, snow skiing, a couple trips elsewhere, honey-do tasks, and such come first.  Work has been focused on the boat interior.  I bonded another layer of wood to the inside bottom of the hull.  Where it would show, mahogany planks were used; where it wouldn't show, 6mm. okoume plywood was used; and in the bow where to curvature is very significant, a layer of 8 oz. fiberglass was bonded into place.  I built in five shelves in the cockpit under the side decks. The instrument panel and the throttle mounting plate were designed and built. 

The seats were designed and built; they are sectional for ease of removal and will be upholstered when we get closer to completion.  I ordered the fuel tank (18 gallon with gauge sending unit) which will be mounted under the front seats and built a fuel tank support platform.  Removable floor panels were built as well as a shelf to go under the foredeck and a battery support for under the aft deck.   Then the inside of the hull was cleaned up by removing resin blebs and sanding.

Most recently the entire interior has been stained.  Next will be the application of three coats of varnish to the interior.   For staining and varnish, it is very preferred to keep the shop windows open for ventilation.  We have had snow as recent as ten days ago, so the weather hasn't been warm enough for open windows.  To stall for time, the plywood panels which will be the initial layer of decking have been already cut to exact size and are ready for installation as soon as the interior is done.  Also need to cut the flotation foam which will be under the aft deck around the OB engine.

When you design your own boat, each step in the building process requires finalizing the design as well as the actual building.  You learn from your previous efforts and hope to improve.  Functional parts I design myself, but for esthetics I get my wife's input.  She is not a boat person, so her viewpoint is unbiased by traditional nautical convention.  With a convenient shop space and no deadline for completion of the boat, the building process is very enjoyable, a combination of engineering, artwork, and exercise.  I already am already working on a design for a "next" boat.

 

   

Finally the hull is turned over!

I didn't realize it has been so long since I updated my current boat building.  When I went to my local lumber store(last summer) to buy planking stock, I noticed that they had some beautiful African mahogany for not-much-more than the cost of cypress.  It also came in sizes more amenable to re-sawing with less potential waste, so I went for it.  My wife has pretty much blessed the project, saying, "Don't go cheap; get whatever is best."  She liked my last boat and the compliments it gets (here in Colorado boat-building is quite rare, so almost anything impresses the onlookers), so she fully supports my current project.

At home I used a bandsaw to slice and re-slice the mahogany into strips of about 5.5 mm. thick by 3 inches wide with assorted lengths so that I could stagger the plank junctions.  A bandsaw leaves some roughness and thickness variation in the planks which I corrected with a planer.  Planks were laid out on the rosin paper patterns, which I had used to outline-shape the plywood sheathing and numbered in sequence for placement on the hull.  Then the task was to tack the planks in place on the hull with temporary staples after coating the hull and plank underside with a thin layer of slightly thickened epoxy.  Mahogany is heavier, denser, stiffer than cypress.  I discovered that the staples I had used for the cypress on my previous boat were not quite strong enough to penetrate and hold the mahogany in place on the ply sheathing, but I switched to using brads (airgun, pad under the head for easy removal later) where necessary and got the job done.  I was glad that I hadn't made the planks any thicker.

 Next is (of course) a preliminary sanding to get rid of any resin blebs and planking variations.  I used an orbital sander with a canister to collect the fine mahogany dust, as well as a long board.  Then came a layer of fiberglass cloth (8 oz. on the bottom, 6 oz. on topsides) and five coats of epoxy resin to completely bury the cloth.  Did I mention that sanding epoxy is my least favorite task?  The bottom wasn't too difficult because the surface is almost horizontal, and I was able to use filler to achieve the correct non-slumping mix of resin.  So, the resin coat came out fairly even.  But the plan was to finish the topsides clear to show the underlying mahogany grain.  This meant that I was working on a somewhat vertical surface and could use no fillers.  Even when the epoxy coats were quite thin, runs could happen easily and show up after you thought you were finished and had walked away.  Those tiny little brad holes that I thought would cover easily didn't always fill like I had hoped.  Thus, I sanded and re-coated several more times.  I used the fine mahogany sanding dust (from the sander canister) as a filler to a limited extent.  The color match was perfect, but the particles weren't uniform enough to create a true smooth layer.  I should have used a flour sifter.  Lessons:  1.  Avoid clear finish on the vertical hull surfaces.  2.  Fill every imperfection, no matter how tiny, before applying epoxy.  3.  When creating your own wood flour, use a fine sifter to get uniform particle size.

With the winter holidays coming up, it was time to paint the bottom and let it thoroughly dry for several weeks before turning the hull over.  I washed the epoxy to get rid of any wax, lightly sanded, then cleaned the bottom again and let it dry.  The paint went down beautifully in a nice even coat.  Then, I waited for it to dry.  We went away for Thanksgiving, and when we came back the bottom was still tacky.  That paint never did dry on the hull; it dried on the mixing paddle and in the application pan, but not on the hull.  I scraped and sanded to take all the non-completely hardened paint off.  I had heard that with epoxy, you didn't need a primer.  Well, now I put down a primer coat, then paint from a fresh can.  And it dried nicely.  I use a laser to mark my intended waterline.  I designed the hull; I know its displacement; only a few minutes for me to mark three points along the side of the hull and then connect them with a laser and tape it with painters' tape.  I am sure I will come back to this task for a touch-up and plan to add a boot stripe.

Last night, with Christmas and New Years past and the decorations put away, my wife and I turned the hull over.  First, I constructed a sling; when the hull was supported from overhead, I released it from the building strongback.  Then the hull was rotated in its sling and lowered down unto a cradle I had constructed.  Now comes more enjoyable and creative steps in building.  I have learned to start from the bottom.  Do those things which are most difficult to access before covering over with decking, seating, and other surface coverings.  Next week is the Denver boat show.  It is not too early to start looking at outboard motors, debating between 60 and 75 hp. 

       

Hull sheathing

The new hull has now been sheathed in 6mm marine plywood.  This entailed making eight scarf joints.  A 9/1 scarf slope was used with all panels being beveled using a hand plane.  For me at least, the hardest part of beveling the scarfs seems to be to hold the plywood absolutely flat.  Thin plywood has a tendency to bow slightly either up or down, so I built an 8-foot jig and used multiple clamps to hold the plywood straight and level.  Four of the scarf joints (the short pieces) were bonded on the jig and four were bonded on the hull itself with equally successful results.  I did not want to try to position, epoxy bond, and clamp 19-foot panels by myself on the hull frame.

The hull was designed with flat cross-sectional panel sections located eight feet from the stern with backing plates (3/4" lumber) for the future joining of fore and aft panels.  That way I was able to split the sheathing task into forward 11-foot panels and aft 8-foot panels.   Each piece needs to be positioned precisely after being pre-coated with fresh epoxy; it needs to be done somewhat quickly so that the epoxy is still in an easily flowable and penetrating state, and then cleanup to remove squeeze-out and drips needs to be completed.  Especially at the hull forefoot and topside stern tumblehome, the panels need to easily bend to significant curvatures.

Thus, these panels were soaked in a shallow basin of water for two hours and then temporarily clamped in place until they dried out.  In this way they adopted a pre-warp to more easily conform to the curvature and required much less clamping force when permanently bonded.  The plywood sheathing will provide the foundation for the next layer of hull coating, 5mm thick planking.  This will be followed by fiberglass cloth and more epoxy resin.

The origin of the "Boat Bowl"

A few months ago, my wife showed me a picture of a wooden bowl from a catalog and asked me if I could create something similar. I had a concept in my mind that I thought I would try "someday", so this was the opportunity to use it. I quickly drew and fabricated a bowl to prove the technique. It came out okay, so I made some bowls slightly bigger, realizing that bigger was actually easier when laminating and sanding the inside. Then she asked for a longer, more flared design, and I made several of those, including for a friend who liked the design. Well, as one who enjoys designing and building boats, you may guess what happened next. I took the design for the next boat I plan to build and simplified and scaled it to create a "boat bowl".

Another year, another boat

A new boating season is beginning, and it is time to recharge the battery, refill the gas tanks and get out on the water.  However, after last season I thought of all the ways I could learn and improve from my last boatbuilding experience and create an even better design.  I wanted something of the same size but more closely resembling a classic runabout and with a better integrated sun shade.  After calculating the offsets and sketching out the results, I started drawing out full-size patterns.

At about Christmas, I started putting together wooden frames.  By themselves, the frames look like just a pile of wood scraps, but when you mount them on a strongback, align them using a laser, and start adding the keel and other longitudinal members, it begins to look like a boat.  With the experience of building something similar, I have been able to move forward more confidently this time.  Instead of searching for answers, I know how to handle the design and construction challenges at each step.  Having purchased a new table saw has been a great help also.

I am now ready to make patterns for the exterior sheathing.  The 6mm marine plywood will arrive soon.  I hope to finish the sheathing (plywood, cypress planking, glass and epoxy) and sanding during the summer months when I can leave the windows open.  Next fall will be time for an upholstered interior and other finishing details.  Changes from the previous design include a constant deadrise (12 degree) hull bottom, chine flats, a straight sheer profile with the foredeck raised 5 inches, and reduced deck camber.  This hull is meant for slightly more power / higher speed.


 

First season report

Boating season is about over for this year but it has been very enjoyable. The only changes I have made so far to the boat are to move the throttle control over about 1 1/2 inches away from the steering wheel, to allow more clearance, and to replace the plexiglass windshield with auto safety glass for a clearer view. After trying three propellors, we have boat speed up to 33 mph (at a 7500' altitude). The engine trim control allows us to bring the bow down in waves and trim it up in smooth water for more speed. My wife enjoys the boat which is important. She spent more time driving it than I did on this last trip. That is great; my great joy is to start with a vision, create a plan and then make it a reality. This winter I will start on a new boat.

A Trial Run

We took the boat out this weekend and had a great time. We were part of an Antique & Classic Boat Society club get-together. We were surrounded by beautiful traditional mahogany runabouts. I had changed the engine propeller to one with a more aggressive pitch and the result was more speed- 28 mph. The engine was still achieving 5950 rpm, at the top end of its recommended rpm range, and I am wondering if an even higher pitch will bring the rpms down a little and improve speed further. You can see in the attached image that the boat's bow is out of the water at speed. This is due to the slight rocker in the run. By calculation, the bow should rise about ten inches to achieve its planing attitude, and I don't think that is far off. From a visibility standpoint, the bow rise is not an impediment. At low speed the boat rests at its marked waterline. The ETEC engine is so smooth and quiet, and we are still using our first six-gallon tank of gas. My wife is not much of a boater but seems to really like this one. With the intense sun in Colorado, our bimini top is an essential.

Finally in the water!

Springtime in Colorado. After ten days of cold and light snow, the temperatures finally got up in the 60's, and we were able to launch the new boat this week. Everything went perfectly. I had re-enforced the deck at the bimini support attachment points, put flotation foam in the stern, installed a new battery, and readied my list of supplies. Amazingly nothing was forgotten; everything performed as designed; and the setup-launch-retrieval was easier than expected.

Out of the Shop

I had planned on using beer and thirsty friends to get the boat out of the shop and onto a trailer, but then a I reconsidered the logistics of getting six friends here at the same time with late fall weather cooperating and devised a new plan on the first warm day.   As when I previously turned the hull over, I suspended ratcheting tie-down straps from the ceiling beams and lifted the boat up off its building cradle. Then I moved a small cart under the center of the hull and lowered the boat onto the padded cart. I backed the 8' wide trailer up to the 6' wide shop door; pushed the hull out the door, rolling on its cart, until about 8' of hull length was out the door and on the trailer; then simply finished winching the hull onto the trailer.

Crowley Marine was ready to install the engine, steering gear, engine controls, and wiring, and they recommended a canvas shop for the travel cover and bimini. So, in a short period of time, the boat is now basically ready for the water. Of course, there are always more finishing projects. I need to (1) reinforce the deck underside where the bimini fittings are fastened; (2) place flotation foam in the bow and stern; (3) touch up the cetol finish in spots along the sheer where it was disturbed when the sheer strip was placed. After pricing simple custom upholstery for the plywood-framed cockpit seats, I found that I could purchase quality standard bucket seats for less than half the price. I should get the seats in the next two weeks.

But with winter's snow in our yard and the ski slopes beckoning, that will all wait until warmer weather.

Ready to leave the shop

Painting is not my favorite thing, but I have been doing quite a bit of it to complete this build. I still need to do some touch up but I have been trying to get this boat out of the shop and onto a trailer so I can get the engine and controls installed. Of course, the boat will still need cushions, bimini top, and a travel cover. The weather forecast mentions possible snow next week, so I am just a little late to launch this season.

Finishing the Stern, Onto the Windshield

Finally was able to get the transom and splash pan covered in glass and resin. I wasn't looking forward to this step. It was like developing the pattern for a garment; I had to make patterns for the complex adjoining surfaces using six different sections. Had to decide which edges to put tabs on so that I had overlapped joints, and had to decide the exact order of placement to minimize interference. All concave junctions for adjoining surfaces were first filled with a fresh fillet of resin putty to prevent dry spots where the cloth couldn't adapt to the abrupt bend. Most of the surfaces were vertical, so the cloth needed to be taped in place while I spread resin and tried to avoid drips and runs. Because the glass cloth distorts easily, I had to note reference points for careful placement. This covering helps not only to protect the wood, but also to add considerable strength to this area which will receive maximum stress from the engine. To my relief, this session went well. Next up will be covering the entire deck with glass and resin.

Thinking ahead, I started to finalize the windshield design. No experience, so I started looking at pictures of old launches to see how it was done traditionally and what might work on the narrow, cambered foredeck. I sat in the cockpit and tried to imagine how a bimini top will join to the top of the windshield. Because the entire boat surface is developable and mathematically created, I was able to select x,y,z coordinates for all points defining the windshield and then calculate lengths and angles for creation of a cheap plywood mock-up of the windshield. Looks pretty good, so now to select real wood and put together the actual windshield. This will be a nice side project while waiting for resin to dry on the deck.

Wood Decking

The plywood under-decking was bonded in place with temporary staples to hold it until the epoxy hardened. Then the plywood was trimmed around the sheer and cockpit. The process was repeated with cypress planks, about 3/16" thick. Now the planks have been sanded. Finally starting to look like more than just the hope of a boat. I need to glass the stern, recessed transom, and splash pan before glassing the deck itself.