Boat Renovation: Yes But Is It Art?

Bright and sunny winter days. Normally, this time of year we can expect frost and freezing fog but here in Brittany the winter has been uncharacteristically benign. This year so far, the Atlantic depressions have tracked north bringing storms and floods to the UK but here the seasons are confused; here we have spring flowers blooming and autumn leaves still on the trees. 

Work on the boat has continued. I have shore-power, a coffee pot, an electric boat heater and lighting. A tarpaulin over the boom means I can protect the cockpit and main hatch and keep the cabin ventilated without fear of rain entering the vessel. It’s a comfortable place to be – to work on the area behind and above the wood-burning stove, to renovate the space that used to be the toilet – or simply to run through a few blues tunes on an old guitar that I keep on board for emergencies (might have to use it as a paddle one day).

So here is the new fresh water tank, semi-installed, a few pipes, wires and securing straps to fit and then I will have running water on demand in the galley. 

Meanwhile, what to do with those long winter evenings? Well, I found a couple of old brass portholes in a car-boot sale the other day. I paid 3E (£2.10) for them. Back home I cut pieces of old MDF to fit and then painted a couple of appropriate naïve nautical scenes on them. I fitted them to the bulkhead in the main cabin yesterday and was quite pleased with the result. Sometimes even the simplest most trivial efforts can bring a sort of reward.

Is it art? Nope not by any stretch of the imagination! But its fun.

Seaward

Sea Toilet on a Small Boat

I’ve removed the old sea toilet from the boat and as a result two more holes in the hull have been glassed in. Now there is only one through-hull fitting, the sink drainer – I don’t like holes in boat hulls but I guess I can live with that. At the moment I’m back working in the cabin cleaning and sanding the old toilet compartment and the space opposite where the charcoal burning stove lives. I’m also considering how best to use the space. Susan, I think, would like to use the old toilet compartment as a hanging locker and store for food and clothes. The toilet, I suppose could be located in the fore-cabin, a solution often seen on smaller boats, but I’m not convinced, not sure I want to sleep over a toilet.

There is also a question regarding the best toilet replacement. A small ‘porta-potty’ might be the best solution, a chemical loo that can be emptied at the end of each voyage. Alternatively, I could use the idea recently posted to me by Davy, a good friend and reader of this blog. Seems fine to me but Susan is less convinced, maybe she just doesn’t like the colour of the seat – well there is no accounting for taste!

Seaward 

Back to the Boat

It’s that anxious time of year – spring may be just around the corner but I recall two years ago when,after a mild winter, we had snow through March to April. The boat has been somewhat neglected recently. It seems as if all the effort to bring her back to life before the end of the summer left me quite exhausted. There again maybe it wasn’t exhaustion. Maybe it had something to do with the need to make progress in other areas of life – get some things off the list. (See my other blog ‘Frugal Living in France)

So, the boat was launched looking good on the outside but the interior was more like a floating slum. The cabin remains to be renovated and it has to be done because this year we’re going to make a real voyage – somewhere.

There is good news though – the paint systems and the wood treatments I used have stood up to the winter really well so I can wholeheartedly recommend International Paint Products – especially ‘WoodSkin’.

And here is another product I can recommend – it has a million and one uses on a boat and I’m now a firm believer that every boat should carry it. What is it? Well, it’s a product called ‘Sugru’ – a sort of self-setting rubber, disguised as a kind of play-dough.

It comes in handy sized sachets in a variety of colours. Open the packet and make whatever shape you want with your hands or by pressing it into a mold – it is very pliable. Twenty four hours later it will have set to a tough, flexible silicone rubber. Before it sets it

is self adhesive – it will stick to aluminium, steel, ceramics, wood, glass or most plastics. When it is set, it can be removed from non-porous surfaces. When cured it is waterproof and even dishwasher proof. It doesn’t mind heat or cold, it is electrically insulating and UV resistant, and if aesthetics are important, it comes in a variety of colours in each pack so you can mix the colours to create the colour and shade you require.

To date, I have used it to plug an above-water engine outlet that was no longer required. I have used it to make washers for nuts and bolts and I have created grommets to protect electric cable when passing through bulkheads. I have also made pads behind equipment attached to bulkheads to eradicate vibration noise. I have used it to cover bolts where they come into the cabin – at least I’ll bang my head more softly now. Rings made of Sugru also stop my wine bottles rattling, and similar rings around my thermos flask improve its chances of survival if it falls off the bench. In an emergency it would make an idea temporary bung but best of all it can be used to protect expensive objects with sharp corners – iPads, cameras etc.

I'm sure there are lots of other uses for the stuff and I’m also sure that there is probably a different solution for each use of Sugru that I have mentioned here – the point I am making though, is that Sugru is one item with a million uses so I don’t have to think up new solutions. Take some to the boat whenever you visit but keep the rest in the fridge at home. The fridge extends its use-by date significantly.

UK Readers can get it here

Sugru Multi-Colour (Pack of 8)

USA Readers can get it here
Sugru SMLT8 Hardware Sealer, Multi Color, 8-Pack

Seaward

Jib Sheets and Snap Shackles

There is a much under-rated musician, Chris Rea, who made an album in the 1980’s called ‘God’s Great Banana Skin’. The title track implied that over-confidence can bring bad luck. I always liked the song and now I have special reason to re-play it and take note of the lyrics. ‘Why?’ you may ask. Well, a couple of weeks ago I announced that, having renovated this boat, I knew her intimately, better than someone who simply goes out and purchases one from a production line.  Her construction and her ways on the water held no mysteries or surprises, I said. A lot can happen in a couple of weeks.

Last week Susan and I decided we would take her for a sail on Wednesday afternoon. The September weather here is unusually pleasant and mid-week we have the estuary to ourselves. Wednesday duly arrived and although it was sunny the wind was not ideal, a gusty North Easter. At times it was calm, hardly enough breeze to give us steerage-way and then a force five would come charging across the water, laying us over and sending us off down-stream like a goods train. All these terms are relative of course, A Westerly Nomad doesn’t heal like a dinghy and five knots is her speed limit – but it is fair to say that, at times, without a reef in her sails, she was over-pressed and the trip wasn’t easy or comfortable.

Earlier in the year, when I raised the mast and launched her I should have set up the slab reefing system but in my eagerness to get afloat I hadn’t bothered and so now, in this wind, reefing wasn’t an option. I suppose I could have set up some kind of jury reef if I had gone into the cabin and selected a suitable piece of rope from the tangle I had carelessly bagged up and thrown in there, but leaving the helm wasn’t really an option because I didn’t have much sea room in amongst the cluster of moored boat where I happened to be at the time.

My solution was to tack, push out across the estuary into clear water where, hopefully, I could find the space and time to sort things out. No such luck, as the boat came round onto her new tack, the jib sheet jammed in the port spreader. How could this happen? Well, again in my haste to get this boat sailing I had connected the jib to the sheet using a large snap-shackle. They say that if something can go wrong it probably will and today was no exception. On this, our fourth trip, the first trip where the wind was strong and less than perfect, the snap-shackle had ‘snapped’ itself firmly onto the shroud and the jib was well and truly aback. The weight of wind was such that the shackle could not be unfastened without bringing the bow back into the wind. Fortunately, we drifted past the cluster of moored boats, got ourselves sorted and no harm was done – except maybe to pride.

Ah well, I guess I got some changes and adjustments to make, might play that Chris Rea song a few times more too.

Seaward

Sailing Boat Mainsheet Modifications

Following the launch and maiden voyage of Susan (of the Seas) my refurbished Westerly Nomad, I’d like to report on the several short shake-down passages I have made. I’d like to --- but in truth there haven’t been any. Why not? Well, I had the boat modified to carry an outboard in a well and there were unintended outcomes. The outboard performs well and pushes the boat along without problem but the mainsheet was attached to the transom and, because the boom doesn’t extend so far, the surplus rope hung directly over the outboard. 

When we launched the boat and motored up the estuary it became obvious that this was a safety hazard. I could easily imagine how under power, a loose mainsheet could snake its way down into the well and then tangle with the prop. At the time I merely thought that this was simply something to be aware of and cautious about. A few days later though, I invited a few guys to share a sun-downer beer on board as a way of showing off my new vessel; the evening was warm, the conversation excellent and the beer tasted good, along with the peanuts, crisps and slices of dried sausage.There wasn’t a great deal of room in the cockpit and so the sausage on a wooden platter was placed on top of the outboard casing. All was well until a passing boat set up a wash, rolled my boat slightly and plosh! Down went the sausage into the outboard well - to the delight of a large shoal of Mullet who thought that Christmas had come early. The conversation turned to outboard wells and their ability to act as magnates. The collective view that evening was that if anything is likely to fall on a boat with a well, that’s where it will fall.The rather large dried sausage also had an unfortunate effect on the harbourmaster here, she was convinced someone had evacuated their sea-toilet in the marina (bad etiquette)!

So, for my peace of mind, the mainsheet would have to be moved before further trips could be made. It turned out to be an easy job because the boom already had a fitting to take the mainsheet tackle half way along its length right above the bridge deck. So I have bought the gear and fitted it and I am much happier, although the cost of the rail and the mainsheet car was exorbitant (more than 200 Euros). I have also removed the now redundant rail from the transom and altogether I think the arrangement is neater, cleaner and much safer. Now I have to fill in the holes left by the previous fitting and then I will be ready to sail. At the moment though, the UK and France are being battered by the remnants of Hurricane Bertha, so I won’t be putting to sea for a few days yet.

Meanwhile here is a picture of a gift from my good friend Alain, given to me for my new boat. It comes from an eighteenth century Newfoundland Cod fishing vessel – a three masted tall-ship. Alain tells me it was used to control the wind. A slight turn here or there can change wind direction and strength, just what you need on a small sailing boat. Problem is where to attach it? Apparently the guy who knew died a long time ago!

Seaward 

Last Minute Nerves

Feeling distinctly nervous at the moment. The boat is almost ready to launch but the weather and tides are

against me this week. I should feel frustrated but no, I was happy to put off the launch date – I’m a bit nervous. I bought this old boat in an appalling state, from a farm just about as far away from the sea as you can get both vertically and horizontally. I have never seen her on the water and although I have had the engine serviced I have never seen it running.

Launching onto the estuary should be easy, she is on a road trailer and the guys at the yard are proposing that we drag the boat down at low water and let her float off on a rising tide. All should be well, providing the engine starts – and keeps running for the five or so miles between the launching site and the marina which will become her home – problem is I won’t know until I try and there is nowhere at the boatyard to tie her to if I can’t get the engine going and the prop turning. I could drop anchor of course but without a dinghy I’d have to stay with the boat until the tide puts her back on the ground.

I have back up of course, in the form of sails, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sail her onto her pontoon. If I have to pick up a mooring buoy outside, that’s where I’ll have to stay into rescued. So while various friends are loading their boats to sail to the south of France, Portugal and Spain for the summer holidays, I’m fretting about a launch and five mile voyage on gentle waters. Am I a wimp? Probably.

Meanwhile the days are filled with thousands of little jobs that simply have to be done. This week I have antifouled tuned the rigging, rove new halyards, and fitted a new lock on the main hatch and given her a new name – Yes I know, it might bring bad luck but I hope Neptune appreciates why I have named her as I have and that a placatory glass of Champagne will make him disposed to favour my actions.  In the next few days I have to fit an engine guard to protect the well, fuel up, fit an anode to the outboard, set up the boom and bend on the sails, empty the cabin of rubbish and make sure the jib roller reefing works – and then I’m out of excuses – wish me luck!

Seaward

Small Acts of Kindness

So, there is a poster that I recall seeing somewhere ‘A Stranger is just a Friend you don’t know – yet’. Don’t know about you but I try to avoid these vapid homilies like the plague. Call me an old cynic (and you probably will), but I’m too long in the tooth for all that stuff.

But then, just once in a while something magical happens and you’re driven to believe that maybe there really is hope for us all. Last week I posted piece about two dilemma’s, the first was the difficulty I was having in sourcing teak, the second was the need to find a replacement antenna for a hand-held Navicom R210 VHF set.

Within a day or so a reader (and fellow blogger I think) called Alfonso, emailed with solutions to both issues.

1.      he used teak flooring from a French DIY chain called ‘Merlin’ to make steps for his bathing ladder (and a pretty good job he made of it judging by his photos (in a format I can't seem to copy)

2.      Generally speaking marine handheld VHF antennas are interchangeable providing the couplings are the same. Basically, if you can screw it on – it will work

Now for me this represented a great step forward, particularly because I had spent a great deal of time emailing marine parts distributors in the hope they had a Navicom antenna or one that would be compatible. Every answer was the same

 ‘No we don’t stock Navicom’

‘Yes but do you have any that match?’

‘No we don’t stock Navicom’.

I guess no-one wanted to take a chance on sending me a product from a different manufacturer if case it didn’t work.

So, armed with Alfonso’s advice I took myself to an Electrical supplies store near St Malo and plonked the handheld VHF on the counter

            ‘Do you have an antenna I can screw into this?’

            ‘Probably, I’ll have a look round’

Things were looking up; the storekeeper disappeared into his back room and returned after several minutes

            ‘Try this’, he said. I screwed in the antenna, pressed the ‘on’ button and immediately heard ST Malo Port Authority advising an incoming vessel to stand off until an outgoing vessel cleared the entrance - job done, but now for the best bit –

            ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Nothing, it’s one I salvaged from a busted VHF someone brought in a while ago.’

So, Thanks Alfonso and the guys at the marine electronic distributors in St Jouan des Guerets. Now I’m a believer! Little acts of kindness can change the world (well my world at least!)

You can see other excellent Aflonso pics here Alfonso's Pics

Seaward