A year later

It's been a year since I launched Aerie for the first time.  She's only been in the water three times, two of which were proper sails (the third was a test for leaks in the city reservoir).  Between travel, a daughter's wedding and efforts to fix the leak there just wasn't much opportunity, and the sailing season is short here in the Great Lakes region.  This year in particular we had a long cold winter and a miserable spring, and in Mid-May we had lows pretty close to freezing.  But the boat is ready to be launched again.

Since my last efforts to fix the leak, and having learned from the first two shakedown cruises, I made a few small improvements.  First of all I made a final effort on the leak front.  While bantering in the gym locker room with someone who is an old hand at boating, I found out about Boatlife LifeCalk, a polysulfide caulk that is apparently the best for under-the-waterline sealing.  It's very messy to work with, but that is its strength: it sticks to anything with great tenacity, can cure underwater, and is strong but flexible.  So once again I removed the plank covering the ballast compartment, removed one package of lead shot (in two layers of ziplock bags), and removed the pivot bolt and CB.  Then I put a bead of LifeCalk along the centerboard (CB) slot, where the CB trunk meets the boat's bottom.  Two days later I packed the CB pivot bolt hole with the same at both ends while putting the pivot bolt and CB back.  Then I replaced the outer ziplock bag (which had been torn during the removal of the ballast), repacked the ballast and replaced the plank.  I didn't want to hex it, but I was hoping the leak was history.

I also modified the way halyards connect to the yards.  Having to rove the halyard through its mast-top block (before the mast is stepped and with the yard and sail attached) adds to the complications and can be awkward and error-prone.  So I undid the beautifully simple double constrictor hitches by which the halyards were attached and installed steel pad eyes to each yard, with plywood reinforcements and epoxy in the screw threads.  Now each halyard will stay permanently in place on its mast, and a snaphook (tied to its end with an achor bend) will be clipped to the yard when needed.  Hopefully the pad eye arrangement is strong enough. 

In addition I put reefing ties through the reef points in both sails, something I had neglected to do, and filled and varnished some dents and scratches on the seats, which were made by the bolts on the rudder while I was carrying it inside the boat.  The rudder now travels in the car.  Finally I replaced the rubber handle on the boathook, which somehow came off and was lost in the drink last year without anyone noticing. 

The first launch of the season was simply to test for leaks.  I dropped the boat in the city reservoir and rowed it around for an hour and a half.  I will have to wait until  I return from my trip to the UK and Ireland to do some sailing.  After reseating the pivot bolt and sealing a couple of pinholes in scarf joints, the leaking problem has been fixed!

Then I weighed the boat, something I had never done.  What I did in fact was weigh both the boat and trailer at the local quarry.  Assuming that the trailer is 180 lbs (82 kgs) per the manufacturer's statement, Aerie is 480 lbs (218 kgs) for the bare hull (with CB but without rudder, rigging or other equipment).  Have to say, I thought it was a fair bit less.  But I guess just the plywood was about 260 lbs (120 kg).  Add all the floor slats, dimension lumber, gallons of epoxy, paint, etc. and 50 lbs of ballast, and it makes sense.  Or the quarry scale is not accurate (that's what I say when I don't like my own weight reading).

Until the next time,

boatbuilder

Fixing the leak

After a first effort to fix the leak and a trip to Europe, I had a second launch and sailing trial.  There were no big rigging errors but rigging the boat still took a while.  The wind was quite a bit slower and the sailing less exciting.  The leak too was slower and the hand-operated bilge pump kept things under control, but the boat still took in water.  Three weeks ago I launched the boat again in the local reservoir, without rigging and with the forward floorboards removed.  The leak was slow enough to make it difficult to diagnose, but I had my suspicions.  The water mostly came in on the port side, and that of course is where I built the ballast box.  One end of the bolt on which the CB pivots lay inside the ballast box, and I came to suspect that I forgot to ensure that it does not leak.  My previous boat has a significantly shallower draft and the bolt is almost always above the waterline, which probably made me too complacent in this case.  My fear was that most of the leak was coming right through the ballast box, soaking the lead shot every time the boat got in the water.   This would inevitably cause corrosion. 

So for many reasons it couldn’t be helped: I had to remove the middle floor plank covering the ballast box and check things out.  So I did, sitting inside the boat while it sat on its trailer.  I saw that the lead shot was showing signs of corrosion already.  I removed the lead and poured water into the ballast box as a test.  I discovered that both forward and aft compartments had gaps along the seam where the side wall met the keel batten, which leaked water in and out of the ballast box, but that did not explain why the boat itself leaked: no water dripped out of the bilge onto the floor.  Then I tested my hunch that the leak may be through the CB pivot bolt hole.  Sure enough, as long as the water level inside the compartment was above the bolt, water trickled out onto the floor in a good-sized stream.  Gotcha!

To remove the bolt I had to cut up and remove the port side wall of the forward ballast compartment.  It was a lot of work, but it could have been worse: the fit was so poor that it wasn’t even glued to the keel batten.  I took out the CB pivot bolt and the CB itself and cut a new side wall.  The next day I epoxied the side wall and puttied several seams that allow water to spread along the bilges.  The third day I replaced the CB and its bolt, making sure I used rubber gaskets and caulk on both sides, plus I glued and nailed the side wall and gave it a second coat of epoxy.  The fourth day I re-caulked the inside of both ballast compartments.   The caulk I used took a couple of days to dry, and then I tested the compartments again for water tightness.  Alas, the bolt hole still leaked.  I used more epoxy compound between the bolt and the CB case, then tightened the bolt and tested again.  By now the leak had been reduced to a slow drip.  After another dollop of caulk (silicone this time) had dried it was time to test again.  The leak had slowed even more, but was still there.  Back to the drawing board. 

So I removed the bolt again (through a hole I had to drill in the compartment side wall) and found the continuing problem.  The pivot bolt goes through cedar, a soft wood that deforms when compressed, plus the epoxy compound I had used had not hardened properly.  So I glued a square piece of marine plywood an each side, slathering plenty of epoxy compound to be on the safe side, and used a longer bolt with neoprene-on-steel washers.  Then I plugged the hole in the side wall with a cork, and tested for leaks again.  Success, at least for now.  Then it was time to finish the job.  After letting the compartments dry, I coated the lead shot with mineral oil to prevent further corrosion and packed it in double layers of Ziploc bags.  Then I replaced the middle plank.  With a bit of luck all this will be sufficient to stop the leak and keep the lead dry. 

This is what happens when you don’t do things right in the first place.  I had boasted that the only thing I had to do over was the oar blades.  Can’t say that any more.  But without mistakes you can’t experiment or learn.  The expense was annoying, because somehow I had timed my purchases so that there was almost nothing left over: I needed disposable gloves, epoxy, wood flour, epoxy measuring cups, brushes and lumber.  These plus a new bolt and washers and Ziploc bags added up to just over $70, including exorbitant shipping fees.  I’ll put that and the 20 hours of work (spread over two brutally hot weeks in a garage with no A/C) down to experience. 

If I was starting from scratch knowing what I know now, I might have foregone the ballast box completely and simply strapped lead bars or ingots to the keel batten, after testing the boat for leaks.  I would have also slathered more epoxy between CB trunk, keel batten and bottom and filleted more carefully every seam that could possibly enable a leak.  But I feel that the two-week-long repeated diagnostic, repair and retrofit process taught me a lot and, hopefully, was successful.  So, after returning from my daughter’s wedding in San Francisco followed by a trip to Paris and Belgium, I expect to relaunch Aerie and, knock on wood, not have to worry and bail any more.

The reckoning

In the past week I filled the CB trunk-garboard joint, where I am certain the leak originates, with epoxy compound, followed by caulk.  I also caulked the seams on the inside bottom, as a second line of defense and to make the buoyancy compartments more watertight.  Today I tested for leaks by pouring water on the inside.  Absolutely none dripped through the bottom, so I expect we are good to go.  I did some more caulking to stop water from moving across the frames.  Then I painted the tips of the mizzen mast, yard and sprit blue to avoid rigging mistakes.  I will have no trouble remembering that: Blue at the Mizzen is the 20th and last novel in Patrick O'Brian's Master and Commander series of nautical novels.  Finally, I installed clips to hold the oars against the bench seat risers and the boathook under the starboard side deck.  Having received title and registration for the boat, and having put tools and supplies away and tidied up the garage, I am basically done building and fussing.  There will be more of the fussing bit but the building part is done.

So (big exhale!), I can now conclude the boatbuilding portion of this blog with the boat's vital statistics and the cost of building.  I will be posting occasionally about sailing experiences.

Stats:

• LOA (length overall):                              14’ 10.5” (4.53 m)
• L@DWL (length at design waterline):      14’ 2” (4.32 m)
• Beam:                                                     6' (1.83 m)
• Displacement @ DWL:                           880 lbs (400 kg)
• Freeboard:                                              20” (0.51 m)
• Draft:                                                      6.5” (0.17 m); 31” (0.79 m) with centerboard down
• Sail area:                                                 110 sf (10.2 m²)
• Hull weight:                                             480 lbs (218 kg)

And here is the cost (in US$).  Some, like consumables, are estimates, and I may have forgotten some items.  It ended up being about $300 more than I expected.  The cost includes anchor but not boathook, bilge pump, registration and of course the trailer.  Also does not include a few tools, such as a couple of clamps, nail-setting punches and an angle grinder, that I can use for other projects.

Plywood (3 sheets 3/8", 8 sheets 1/4") and oak boards	750
Cedar boards	150
Other lumber (spars, oars, miscellaneous)	100
Epoxy (3.5 gallons)	235
Bronze nails and screws	85
Hardware (oarlocks and sockets, gudgeons & pintles)	65
Sailmaking supplies	220
Chandlery (blocks, cleats, line, fasteners)	300
Paint and varnish	55
Lead ballast	85
Consumables (brushes, gloves, mixing stuff, sandpaper)	100
Total	2,145

Launch day!

Today I launched the boat and sailed her, after a few adventures.  Last Tuesday I had her inspected by the state Department of Watercraft, in a parking lot of a grocery store in a university town 25 miles away (long story).  The officer had no issues and was very complimentary.  So, while the title and registration are in process, and armed with a temporary permit, I asked my friend Michael, who is from coastal Maryland and an experienced sailor, to come out with me today.  It was just as well, because as it turns out the boat is very difficult to rig and get under way.  Things will get easier with practice, but there's no going around that it is a two-person boat.  We were extremely busy (and I was stressed out), and we had no friends in another boat, so we only took a few photos, and many of them were bad.  So only two this time, I'm afraid.

So we drove to Marblehead and launched at Dempsey's State Fishing Area, a nice place with a breakwater/ fishing pier and four launch ramps with floating docks.  I had a printed checklist, and all went well at first: I had stepped the main mast (near the bow) and roved the main halyard and snotter, put on the yard toggle etc.  Lauch was easy and the boat proved to be very stable, with each person being able to step in with little rocking. She also sat in the water exactly where I expected her to.

Then we rowed out into the bay and I tried to rig the mizzen.  I realized something was wrong: the yard lay backwards.  Turns out that I had used the mizzen sail and sprit on the main and vice versa.  Because the main mast is very hard to step while in the boat, there was no avoiding it: we had to row back in and fix things.  Unfortunately we had drifted some way away, plus there was a real traffic jam at the ramps, even with four of them.  Well, eventually we docked her, unstepped the masts, switched the halyards, sails and all, and started again.  The breeze by now was a good 15 to 18 mph.  Long story short, we got under way, and the crazy thing can really fly!  She seemed to prefer a beam reach, and to dislike sailing close to the wind.  Here I am looking like a fat slob (I have lost 16 pounds and I'm in good shape, honest!), sunburned, and worried.  But I'm OK, and you can see the mechanics of the mizzen mast and sail.

Then we tried to tack.  Ready about, helm's-a-lee, then nothing.  It flat-out stalled!  We tried again, nothing again.  At some point we had to wear (turn 270 degrees through a gybe) to go where we wanted.  By then my heart sank when I noticed water sloshing under the floorboards!  So Aerie clearly had sprung a leak.  A slow leak to be sure, but I had no bilge pump, courtesy of Wal-Mart which falsely claimed they had one, and then it was too late to find it elsewhere.  And with the water under the boards I couldn't use the bailer either.

So a leaky boat that could not tack.  Great.  I was getting very discouraged.  Fortunately Michael (here he is, looking unflappable, with a good view of the mainsail) had (and always has) a positive attitude.  Poor guy, he had never had to deal with such complicated traditional rigging, but I couldn't have done it without him.  Then I tried to tighten the tack downhauls, which had gotten loose.  Bingo!  The boat tacked fine and sailed pretty close to the wind.  I was too preoccupied to actually measure angles but the day was saved.  We were on the water for about three hours and we didn't take on all that much water, but we called it a day since we were exhausted anyway.  After a nice picnic in the shade we came home. 

To summarize:

• Aerie  has a leak.  After retrieval I found it, and it's through the joint between CB trunk and garboard.  Nothing that some epoxy compound and caulk won't fix.  Unfortunately the supposedly watertight buoyancy compartments also took on some water, so I have to dry them out and seal them with caulk this time.  Clearly epoxy compound leaves invisible holes for water to come through.
• Rigging her is a pain, and a lot of things can go wrong.  It takes two people to do it.  On a calm day she could be rigged at the dock, but since the mizzen partner is also the rowing thwart,  I would need a motor, which I dont intend to get (yet, anyway).
• She rows very well, but the high sides and nine-foot oars make her not a real row boat.
• She is very dry (well, except the leak anyway), weatherly, stable and stiff.  She has little leeway, and a slight weather helm, which is exactly how I designed her.
• She can really fly on a moderate breeze.
• The tacks, and especially the mizzen one, need to be tightly hauled down.  I had been warned many times in books and web articles, but I didn't realize that the consequence would be inability to tack.
• I need to clearly label yards and sprits so I don't repeat the stupid mistakes of today.
• Finally, the masts, slender and bendy as they are, performed fine and showed no appreciable bending in the wind.  This could change in a much stronger wind, but for now I am very pleased.

All in all, it could have gone better, but when does it ever, really, on the first shakedown cruise?

P.S.  Just as were coming in, a man on a big, scary looking black twin-hull boat ordered us to turn ours into the wind and wait.  It was a Dept. of Watercraft boat with two (armed, judging by the guy who inspected Aerie on Tuesday) officers on board, who had noticed we didn't have registration numbers and tags on the hull.  I showed them the temporary tag and they were all polite and everything and congratulated me on how great my Aerie looked.  I actually appreciated that they are there, earning their salaries and paying attention, perhaps catching a dangerous drunk or two.  In South Carolina they were nowhere to be seen.

The running rigging

The boat is now fully rigged!  Here it is (first photo) , and it bears a strong resemblance to the hand drawn sketch I included back on November 24, only it looks much better.  Rigging it for the first time was a complicated process with lots of errors in the sequence and fouled lines.  I will have to practice and write a checklist, then practice again so I can get it to be second nature.

This long post is about the running rigging, the edifice of line (rope), blocks (pulleys), cleats (rope tie-offs or stops) and snaphooks that keeps everything in controlled working order.  The boat's masts are unstayed, so there is no standing rigging at all.  With the boat's rig being entirely home-designed and -made, as well as so old-timey as to be almost unknown in sailing circles, it remains to be seen how it works.  Apologies to all non-sailors for the avalanche of technical terms.  I try to explain as I go but it's quite the task.

Materials
I used six types of line for the running rigging and other uses.  Low-stretch 5mm Dyneema for the halyards, 1/4 inch line (braided over core) for the sheets, tack downhaulsand snotters (this one a cheaper line left over from my previous efforts), 3/16 inch braid for the sail lacing and the centerboard (CB) and rudder lines, 1/4 inch twisted cord for painter and yard toggles, and 3/16 inch clothesline (!) for the reefing lines.  I will also need at least 75 ft of line for the anchor, but I'll buy that later.

I used a total of 12 blocks.  Most of them are simple loop ones; there are four pivoting ones for the four sheet ends, two larger ones for the halyards, and one cheek block.  The halyard blocks at the masttops are tied with double loops of line and fishermen's knots to wooden eyepads that I fixed there with screws and glue (second photo--sorry, don't know how to rotate it).  I also used four horn cleats (halyards and tack downhauls), six clam cleats (sheets and snotters) and two v-jam cleats (CB and rudder).

Lacing and halyards

First thing I did was lace the sails to their yards.  First the throat and peak (the fore and aft top corners) were tied to the ends of the yards through holes I had drilled.  Then I laced the head of the sail to the yard through the grommets.  It was my opportunity to practice knots.  Never having been a scout (my dad didn't let me, saying they were a fascist organization, which was true in Greece in his boyhood), I have learnt knotting solely for my sailing needs, and I am not too good at it.  Still, I soldiered on while connected to the Internet for quick references.  I used fishermen's and reef knots for peak and throat respectively, plus a row of marline hitches with a running bowline at one end and a double clove hitch at the other for the lacing.  Time will tell how well I did.

Halyards serve to haul the sail and its yard (hence the name) up the mast.  I had planned to attach them to the yards using Jim Michalak's "loose noose" method, in which the halyard wraps around both the yard and the mast and is clipped to itself, with roller beads to ease the friction.  But then I remembered that the yard has to clear the snotter block on the mast, so I tried two new things.  First I used the Goat Island Skiff method of running the halyard through a block (which I lashed to the yard) and around the mast.  That proved unbalanced, and I was short of blocks anyway, so I went back to my original idea of simply tying the halyard to the yard with a double constrictor hitch, and securing the yard to the mast with a toggle.  The toggles for both yards required a total of eight of my old friends, the eyesplices.  More to do but marlinspike work is a good way to pass a quiet evening (thanks to David Nichols' book for both the idea of toggles and for teaching me the skills).  Also they required two wooden eyepads per yard, as opposed to one for the loose noose.  Here is a photo of the finished product (third photo).  Clean, traditional and practical.    The main halyard goes through a cheek block and is cleated close to the forward splashguard.  However, pulling on the halyard twists the mast in its partner and loosens the halyard.  I have to find a way of stopping that.  The mizzen halyard does not have that problem, since it is cleated directly on the mast. 

Control lines

The snotter (which holds up the sprit boom and controls its tension) is attached to the sprit by threading it through a drilled hole and secured with a knot.  It is then threaded through a block attached to the mast with a steel eyestrap, then cleated off; there is an extra block on the foredeck to change the direction of the mainsail snotter (fourth photo). The sprit boom (which bisects the lower sail and holds it taut) is clipped to the clew (the aft lower corner of the sail) with a snaphook, which is secured to the sprit's aft end with an eyescrew.  When reefing, this clew snaphook has to be clipped to the cunnningham (uh, I give up).  If this proves too difficult, I can always use a line through the cunningham to do the same thing.  It took several fittings to find the right length for the sprits, especially so they don't foul each other when they go about: the clearance of the mainsail's clew from the mizzen snotter is smaller than I had designed.

The tack downhaul line, which secures the forward lower corner of the sail to the hull, is attached to the foredeck (mainsail) or to the underside of the mast partner/thwart (mizzen).  It goes through a snaphook clipped to the tack, giving a 2:1 purchase, and is cleated off.  When reefing, the downhaul needs to be clipped to the new (reef) tack.  Again, if needed, I will devise some sort of line system to avoid having to unclip and clip again.

The sheets (despite their name, they are ropes that control the sail's orientation) are double-ended.  They go through a block near the aft end of each sprit, tied through a wooden eyepad, then a block and a cleat on each side.  The main sprit is actually upside down in the photo--I had threaded the snotter the wrong way, but I fixed it since.  Mainsheet blocks and cleats are fixed to the rowing thwart; the blocks are secured to little wooden extensions glued to the thwart's underside (fifth photo).  The influence of B&B Yacht Designs is gratefully acknowledged.  I needed to use bullseyes for the mizzen sheet to change direction so I could cleat off the ends on the splashguards (last photo).

The CB and the rudder blade are kept in the down position with bungee cord, and are lifted with lines that are cleated off.  The CB line has a block to change its direction so I can cleat it at the aft end of the CB trunk.

Miscellaneous

In all I also had to use eight wooden eyepads, seven stainless steel eyestraps, and a lot of screws: 46 just for these rigging items, plus 18 for the inspection ports and 36 for the hinges.  The hull carpentry of course required hundreds of bronze wood screws and two lbs of bronze ringshank nails.  Not to mention 3.5 gallons of epoxy, three quarts of paint and two quarts of spar varnish.  Or all the plywood and lumber, and the lead shot for ballast.  I haven't calculated the total cost yet, since there were so many mail-order suppliers and trips, large and small, to the hardware store.  But there will be a final reckoning, which I will publish soon, along with the boat's vital statistics.

Tying up loose ends (literally)

Before I go on, I'd like to add another photo of the finished hull, this one taken from the side.  In the last post, the wide-angle camera view made the proportions look deceptive.  This should give a better idea of the boat's freeboard and the relative positions of the two masts.  I find the rake of the masts a little, well, rakish.

I made some good progress in the past week.  A whole bunch of little things still needed to be checked off before finishing the rigging.  I varnished the floor with non-slip grit mixed in, screwed the middle plank over the ballast box, and laid the floor in its place.  I fitted the sliding door on the main bulkhead and glued and screwed its lower rail.  You can see the finished interior in the second photo--looks nice and roomy, does it not?  I put the brass hinges on the three flip-up locker doors, but I haven't installed closures yet.  I have had a hard time deciding how to keep these doors closed (in case of rough weather or a capsize)--the setup isn't right for latches, so I considered using bungee cords and hooks, but I decided they wouldn't look right.  I am thinking of using little pivoting flat blocks of wood, but I don't feel there is much hurry for them.  I also installed a watertight inspection port on the foredeck, and two in the seat risers for access into the buoyancy compartments.  Finally I touched up the hull with blue paint up to the rubrails--I had left an irregular patch unpainted so I could glue the rubrails on.

I also sanded the masts, yards and oars and gave all two coats of varnish  Then I finished both sails--I had a few reef patches to sew on, batten pockets to sew closed, and a whole lot of loose thread ends to tie and trim.  In the coming week I will start on the rigging.  First I will lace the sails onto their yards, then I will attach the halyards to the yards, then install blocks and cleats for halyards, sheets and snotters, then set up the tack downhaul systems, the clew snaphooks, and finally the lines for pulling up the centerboard and rudder.  The end is in sight!

All but the running rigging (almost)

In the last few days, I started by filling the ballast box with lead shot, 50 lbs of it.  I used silicone caulk and styrofoam to seal it into its two compartments (see first photo: forward compartment after the styrofoam went on, aft one before).  I will be screwing the middle floor plank on top.  Then I finished assembling the floor.  It was quite tricky because I had to do everything upside-down, since the cross pieces were glued and screwed on the underside.  Of course in a home-designed and hand-built boat nothing is exactly square and even, so I had to do some sanding, trimming and dealing with inevitable small mistakes after assembly to make all three parts of the floor fit properly.  In doing some of that I managed to cut my left thumb with a detail saw that slipped; not deep enough to need stitches but it took some work to stop the bleeding.  It was the first (and hopefully last) mishap I've had that needed as much as a band-aid.  Anyway, a good reminder to always be careful.  I also drilled ten 7/8-inch holes in all in the floor assemblies, two (one port, one starboard) for each space between frames.  The holes are for pumping the bilges dry, extra ventilation and for my fingers so I can pull the floor up as needed.

Then I reinforced the bow from the inside with two strips of 3/8-inch plywood, and drilled the holes for the U-bolt that will hook to the winch. Then I sanded tops and insides and laid on the first coat of varnish, followed by the second.  Then I gave three coats of white paint to the fore- and side-decks.

I also gave the floor assemblies a coat of epoxy.  They will be varnished next week, mixed with some non-skid grit additive to reduce slipping.  This plus a few other things (like touching up the blue hull paint below the rubrails, locker door closures, installing the three inspection ports with white caulk and screws, and screwing on the middle plank) account for the "almost" part in the title.

Then, on Sunday, on the first anniversary of beginning the physical boat building (the planning of course went on a lot longer than that), I and some friends transferred the boat from its cradle to its new trailer.  Thanks, Gregg, Mark and Ralph! (second photo). 

The last two photos are of the (almost) finished boat (minus the running rigging).   Isn't Aerie a beauty?

In the next 2-3 of weeks I hope to have everything ready for launch, barring any unforeseen issues.  So keep checking 176inches.

boatbuilder