A Short Cruise in France

July and August were pretty intensive months for renovating this old Westerly Nomad. I wanted to get her into a state where I could embark on a voyage – however small, and enjoy a degree of comfort. As a sailing vessel she would function well but the accommodation was, at best, a slum. No functioning toilet, no water, no cooker. First job was to clean paint and varnish to get a blank canvass at least. By mid august she began to feel habitable but hardly fit for a sea-going cruise.

I have two choices when I leave my home port – North takes me down the estuary to St Malo and the sea. South takes me to the head of the estuary and through a lock into the river. From there I can go to Dinan, a medieval town on the River Rance. If I lower the mast there I can cross Brittany via canal towards the Atlantic.

I didn’t intend to go quite so far, but a couple of weeks chugging along the canal getting to know this old boat seemed like an attractive proposition. At least on a canal there would be access to fresh water, electricity, toilets, showers, pretty villages, reasonable restaurants, butchers, bakers and pretty much anything else I needed. So, off came the mast and Susan (the boat) became a motor cruiser.

It was the best of times – and the worst of times. Before I left I tried to invent a word for it –

glamorous sailing, yachting or boating – glamoating or glamachting. A good friend hit the nail on the head I think – he came up with Gloating! So much for definitions and aspirations – the reality proved to be quite different.

The Rance estuary is truly beautiful, and they say a picture is worth a thousand words so here are some pics. 

We set off in warm sunshine on a rising tide, locked into the river and cruised southwards into the canal beyond Dinan. Locks on the canal are managed by professional lock keepers and are largely automated so there is little for a boat crew to do except hold the ropes while the boat is expertly raised or lowered to a new level. Lock-keeping must count as one of the best jobs in France, especially on this canal as there is no commercial traffic. As a lock keeper your cottage is going to be very pretty and set in a beautiful location. Best of all though, 90% of canal traffic comes through in August – take your annual vacation that month and you have little to do for the rest of the year. In August, students and artists take on jobs as temporary lock keepers and many locks become arts and crafts outlets for the summer.

Unfortunately the further south we went, the more weed we encountered. Flat bottomed canal and river boats manage to glide over or through this stuff, but Susan (with her triple keels) managed to pick up weed all along the route. Sometimes her speed was reduced to two knots even with the engine on full throttle.

We stayed a couple of days in the beautiful village of Evran and the temperature rose to 31 degrees C – only solution was to find a large oak tree and sit under it. The evenings were more bearable – cold beer and bank-side barbeques were a delight. But then, a local farmer decided to spray manure on his fields encouraging swarms of flies. We bought some window stickers that attract flies and kill them – but every time we opened a hatch a new plague would come in. I counted 20 flies in the cabin before bed time – and I probably missed some.

Two days later there was a violent electric storm, 37 knot winds and driving rain. The heat had gone and it was cold but at least it got rid of the flies. We continued up the canal, stopping at another beautiful village but the only shop was closed and that night we had to resort to warming up a tin of cassoulet and boiling a few potatoes – but with the charcoal burning stove heating the cabin we were warm and dry despite the howling wind and driving rain.

We managed five more miles the next day, arriving at St Domineuc – Which could be described as a one horse town – except, there is an excellent canal-side restaurant offering three course meals for 11E. It was while we were holed up in a canal-side bar that we came across Spike Heatley, an 82 year old professional bass player who had played with just about every jazz musician of the twentieth century. The drinks flowed and wild stories were told. He gave me a signed copy of his latest CD – if you like jazz you’ll love it.

The following day was devoted to ‘make, do and mend’. I was particularly concerned about the boat engine which seemed to run OK but had stopped pumping cooling water. I couldn’t fix it and didn’t want to ruin it by overheating – so a good friend drove out to collect us and the engine so we could take it to a mechanic.

The guy had it fixed the following day and so we returned to the boat with a plan to cruise home. The IPhone told us the trip would take 30 minutes by car. On a weed choked canal however, the return trip took four days – with Susan (the crew) leaning over the bow parting weeds as we crawled along – three metres forward, then one in reverse to allow the accumulated weed to fall from the keels – average speed – probably 2 knots. At one point I considered changing the boat name to – the ‘Africa Queen’.

The situation improved though as we spotted a familiar boat coming towards us – an English narrowboat, bought and restored last year by good friends Dave and Natalie. The encounter led to a bank-side picnic – prawns, pate and good rustic bread washed down with local cidre and white wine.

Two days before home the weather improved, the sun shone and we cleared the canal. Once again we were back onto the weed-free river. Our last night was spent in Dinan where the port facilities are outstanding and the quay side restaurants are excellent. There was a three course dinner of shellfish followed by Moules a la crème and dessert for 25E. The following morning we even found a restaurant offering a ‘full English breakfast’.

The last day, there was bright sunshine and, after all that rain, the air was clear and polished. There were kingfishers on the river and the boat seemed to be moving as she should with the gentlest of push from the engine. We cleared through the lock into the estuary at the top of a spring tide and worked our way back through blue salt water back to our home port, a short country walk from home.

The boat is dirty and full of gear that we need to take off her. She’s taken a couple of scratches too,and we need to put the mast back on her but the experience was well worth while. As time passes, the memory of the trip takes on a new perspective. The highlights become more significance than the downsides.

The trip needed to be made. You can think a lot about renovating a boat. You can make all sorts of plans but until you’ve actually lived on one, used the systems and tested your assumptions, you can’t be sure of what you are doing. This trip confirmed my some of my ideas and made me re-think others – more about that later.

Seaward

Canal Boat on Salt Water

Dave and Natalie bought this old English narrow boat on a French canal ‘as seen’ for a remarkably

good price. It had languished on the water for six years, used only occasionally as a weekend cottage at the beautiful Breton village of Evran. Dave took a risk but not a huge one. He’s a skilled seaman and has already restored a Channel Islands 22 motor vessel – bringing her back to, and then beyond, her initial spec. Paul, his good friend has done similar restoration jobs on vintage cars.

Having bought the vessel they had the Volvo Penta engine running within half a day and then they discovered that the value of the wood-burning stove installed aboard almost covered the price paid for the entire vessel. In effect Dave bought a fully functioning eleven meter steel vessel for the price of a new stove. What’s more, the range of gear and equipment on board was pretty comprehensive – even down to cutlery, crockery and the all important corkscrew and bottle opener.

The main concern now was to make her secure for the winter and to ensure that the hull, after six

uninterrupted years afloat, remains sound. It isn’t easy to lift an eleven meter canal boat, she’s heavy and has to be supported in the right places along her hull. Fortunately the guys at Estuaire Marine at Plouer Sur Rance have the gear so all that was required was to get the boat there from her mooring at Evran on the canal. The trip involved several miles of canal travel through four locks and then through a much larger lock out of the fresh water canal into the salt water of the estuary.

They planned to do the trip in two phases – first from Evran to the beautiful medieval town of Dinan, then the following day, from Dinan out of the canal locking into the estuary for the five or so mile trip down to Plouer. We had no concerns for waves on the estuary, neither, given our 0.5meter draft, did we fear running aground. Our main concerns were whether the engine would be powerful enough to counter the tide and the potential for leeway if a cross-wind caught the boat in a tight spot. The first issues was easily dealt with – lock into the estuary just after high water when the ebb would assist the journey. The second issue would be one of choosing decent weather.

Initially the trip down the estuary was planned for Wednesday but given a forecast of 30 knot winds, the timing was brought forward to Tuesday when the wind would be less strong and from a favorable direction for most of the time.

Davy and Paul brought the boat from Dinan and I hopped aboard at the sea lock. All was well with gentle wind and tide, even the sun came out briefly and the entire trip was without incident save for a moment of minor concern when we crossed the wake of the passenger steamer coming up-channel as we were turning to enter Plouer Marina. Dave turned into the bow wave and we took the waves effortlessly, except for the fact that the automatic bilge-pump suddenly kicked into life and started pumping gallons of water out of her. Where had the water come from? The bilges had been dry when Davy checked them at Evran. I went forward to see if a wave had splashed over the foredeck but it was dry. Then, within a couple of minutes, to our relief, the pump stopped. The only explanation is that the motion of the boat in the ferry’s wake must have been enough to open one or two limber holes in the bilges enabling trapped water in fairly obscure places to run aft. The water was not salty so at least we weren't leaking.

Thursday morning, top of the tide, the boat was run onto a waiting trailer on the slipway. Estuaire Marine hauler her out and hosed her down. The hull was clean and sound and the anodes were as new. So now we’re waiting for a survey report on the hull but, given our initial findings, I don’t think Dave has much to worry about.

Seaward

Don't You Just Hate Midweek?

I couldn’t help taking the opportunity to send younger friends and ex colleagues a few pics from my first ‘voyage’ on ‘Susan’, the Westerly Nomad I have worked on to save from dereliction over the past two years. It wasn’t so much the triumph of getting afloat at last; it was the joy of being able to do it mid week – when most other people have their heads down and their noses to the grindstone. I gave up the corporate world a couple of years ago, reducing my income but gaining time – and now it has paid off – I have a boat and I have time to sail.

There is an added bonus too – this September is one of good weather and, with everyone back at work and children back in their schools, I have this beautiful estuary to myself.

So, where have I been and how does this boat sail? Well, I haven’t been far. In and out of the pontoon about six times to perfect the technique and then a trip across the estuary to the beautiful village of Mordreuc (translates as village of the Druids), and a longer sail down the estuary to the even more beautiful village of St Sulliac (listed as one of the ten most beautiful villages in France). The wind on this longer trip was gusty from the North East and the boat performed as predicted.

The weather helm is hardly noticeable in light airs and easily manageable in gusts. She leans easily on the wind and leeway is less than I expected. She will not win any races and she is slow and heavy – qualities I like. In return for her weight and lack of speed, I have easy motion and very predictable behaviour. The cabin roof, stretched right to her beam, provides an excellent clear wide space for deck work and, on a good reach, she pretty much steers herself. An excellent boat for a single-hander but with plenty of room for family and friends.

On the return trip with the wind behind us, we sailed goose-winged for several miles and on one brief occasion we actually attained 5.1 knots over the ground.

Now there is still plenty of work to do in the cabin but that can wait until the weather deteriorates. While the sun still shines I’ll be sailing –  especially MIDWEEK!

Seaward

Boat Handling in Confined Waters

Out and back, then out and then back again, and again. When I was minded to purchase this boat I read a comment on the internet that Westerly Nomads were built like tanks and they sailed like tanks also. I didn’t discover much about this boat when I launched and brought her up the estuary – except that the engine seemed reliable, the mainsheet was badly located in view of the adaptations I had made, and that she seemed to head generally in the direction I pointed her.

There were two of us aboard that day and a party of willing helpers waiting on the pontoon to grab lines and help secure her. Once secure in the marina there was further work to do, the cabin had to be cleaned of wood chippings and GRP dust and I had to wait for the delivery of new mainsheet fittings – then we had the tail end of hurricane Bertha. All in all, today was the first day when the boat was truly ready for a sailing trip and the weather forecast suggested easy sailing.

Now put me on this boat ten miles from shore and I’ll be happy. I’m confident that I can sail her and, with that much sea room, I can afford to make a few mistakes. Anyway, out there if I muck-up a manoeuvre who is going to see it? But I was much less confident about getting her in and out of her pontoon berth under the gaze of all the other boat owners, dockside strollers and the clients from Joe’s bar at the top of the slipway. In fact, I was so scared of knocking lumps off other vessels nearby that I decided to limit today’s activities to simply getting used to manoeuvring her in confined spaces. The plan was that I would take her out and bring her back while Susan remained on the pontoon ready to grab lines, cast off and fend off from the pontoon if required. Well, I can now tell you that, as the man said, Westerly Nomads are built like tanks. Going astern she pretty much does what she wants and when travelling forward her weight drives her onward forever.  Under sail, yes she sails like a tank but under motor – think tanker.

For our first attempt Susan held onto the bow while I pushed her stern out from the pontoon so that I could take a diagonal course astern until she was in mid channel. From there, with luck and with the tiller hard down I could put her in forward drive and hopefully she’d turn her bow down channel. Mmmm well she didn’t like taking a straight course astern. She’d started turning when I pushed her stern and so despite whatever I did on the tiller she kept right on turning. She ended up much too close to a neighbouring boat but anyway I got out with only a mild to high adrenalin rush.

Returning to the pontoon twenty minutes later I wrongly assumed she wouldn’t like sharp corners and so turned in much too early – no damage done but not an ideal landing. More adrenalin in the system.

On the second attempt, without pushing the stern out she turned in completely the wrong direction and I was left in mid channel with bow pointing to the land and stern to the sea but by some miracle I managed to make her execute a three point turn in her own length by using reverse and forward gears in succession and pushing the tiller to the opposite extreme with each change of direction. On the return, I delayed my turn into the pontoon until it was right on the beam. She turned perfectly but despite throwing the engine into reverse I couldn’t get the speed off her – a minor crunch but a crunch nonetheless. Adrenalin pumping like crazy!

Third time lucky? Susan walked the boat along the pontoon until she was almost adrift, a short burst of reverse gear then tiller hard over in forward drive and we were in mid channel pointing to the sea without fuss. On the return I crept down the channel at the lowest speed I could, waited until the mooring space was right on the beam, threw the tiller over and – the engine stalled - not enough revs – surely she wouldn’t turn tightly enough without power – no time to restart the engine – keep the tiller over and hope we can get close enough for Susan to throw me a line. --- . She turned, she straightened up, she glided into the space and came to a halt perfectly placed to reach over and fasten the lines! Wow – another shot of adrenalyn followed by a significant hit of endorphins.  Result euphoria! Think I’m getting the hang of it now.

Seaward

Launching an Old Westerly Nomad

So, we launched Susan of the Seas at about 10 am on Wednesday. Rather than immerse the boat trailer the yard decided to use the boat lift to carry her onto the shore on a rising tide. I had no tender so I climbed aboard at the outset and rode the trailer down to the beach. Once there she was plonked on the mud and we waited apprehensively, for the tide. Steve a good sold practical friend came with me and he was an ideal choice of companion. Whereas I am always pleasantly surprised when any practical task works out well, Steve has confidence in his practical skills. He expects his actions to have positive outcomes.

As the tide rose we set about connecting fuel lines, coiling ropes, making sure the boathook was to hand and generally making her fit for sea. Once the prop was immersed Steve set about trying to get the engine started – a 6hp four stroke Mariner outboard. As with all outboards they are easier to start when you know their preferences for throttle, and choke settings. We didn’t get her going at the first attempt and in truth initially she showed no signs of life at all. After a rest and more throttle/choke adjustments (she likes half throttle and full choke even on a hot day) she burst surprisingly into life. A few minutes later the boat lifted off the mud and we were free, inching our way down the narrow channel towards deeper water. I checked the bilges, they were dry and that is how they stayed.

The five mile trip up the estuary to out home port was completed within an hour under engine and a pretty limp headsail which contributed little to speed given the lightness of the breeze.

Susan was waiting at the port to direct us to the pontoon allocated to us and once moored, we hoisted the Breton courtesy flag, dressed the ship, and christened her with a glass of champagne making sure there was a drop for Neptune but not so much to upset Bacchus.

The day was hot and sultry – too hot to sit in the cockpit and so we strolled along to La Cale restaurant close by and had Moules Frites washed down with ice cold Rose wine, a pleasant and pretty uneventful way to end the two year story of bringing this old boat back to life.

Of course the job isn’t completed and may never be. Maybe that is the way with old boats. At the moment however, she is a floating slum – the cabin is filthy, covered in powdered GRP, woodshavings, and spider webs. It is full of empty beer bottles, tins of paint, used sandpaper, fenders and old rope. So there is the next project – to turn her into a boat I would like to live on.

With regard to this blog, well there is still plenty to do and therefore plenty to write about. Hopefully though, I’ll be able to record a few adventures in between more stories of sanding, painting and general DIY.

Seaward

A Stroll Around the Boatyard

Weather has been so good recently I took time out to stroll around the boatyard and was pleasantly

surprised to note that I now seem to have the shiniest boat around, even though she is cloaked in fine dust from gel coat sanding and polishing.

Anyway here is an interesting boat that I came across. Her owner brought her up on the top of the tide careened and antifouled her.

She’s interesting in that I guess she reflects the passion (often misplaced or misapplied) that us boating folks seem to develop. For many of us sailing is only half the story. The other half is about boat ownership – and not just any old boat. In my case it’s a passion for an old Westerly Nomad – not the prettiest or fastest of boats, not even the best design that her architect came up with, but when I’ve finished with her, she’ll certainly turn heads, even if only because she looks so unusually retro.

In the case of the boat in the picture, it seems that some guy in Normandy wanted a South Seas trading schooner and, because he couldn’t find one for sale in France, he decided to commission a naval architect to design and build one for him.  Well into the build he noticed that the architect had stipulated aluminium masts, this didn’t fit with the owner’s sense of aesthetics or his wish to have an ‘authentic’ design. He wanted wooden masts but the architect insisted the additional weight would unbalance the vessel – and so at enormous expense, the owner insisted on carbon fibre masts sheathed in wood. Wooden masts taper and so the dimensions of the wood cladding strips had to be drawn, measured and cut using the latest high-tec computer CAD/CAM equipment. So, she now looks like she has wooden masts but despite this, everyone who looks at her feels she looks ‘odd’ in some way – not quite seaworthy. Maybe if the masts had really been wood, the hull dimensions would have been different. To the best of my knowledge she hasn’t left the estuary since she was brought here. I might be wrong of course but that, at least, is the word on the river.

Meanwhile, here is another boat which showed up here recently. I’m not sure how seaworthy she is either but she looks like a lot of fun (in sheltered waters). I think our US cousins would describe her as a ‘Shanty Boat’. Plenty of space and accommodation, great for river exploration, but take a liferaft and don’t lose sight of land!

Seaward 

Wooden Boat Hatches, Oil or Varnish?

One of my recent posts proved to be quite controversial, regular readers will recall I have been renovating the hatches on this old boat – and I covered them in strips of a teak-like wood (oily and red). Between each strip I had rubber compound caulking. Now the controversial bit was what came next – varnish, oil or nothing at all?

French friends suggested nothing at all, the oily wood can look after itself and it eventually matures to a silver-grey. Well, yes I’ve done this with the green oak bits of the house I am renovating, but for a boat? Well I always think grey weathered teak make a boat look uncared for, so, oil or varnish? Well, much of what I read suggested oily woods don’t like varnish, the natural oil make adhesion difficult. Then I read an independent article in Classic Boat magazine about oil produced by International Paints but I misnamed it – called it ‘Woodcoat’ when in fact it is called ‘Woodskin’. I had used it on other parts of the boat so decided to use it on the hatches as well. So far so good – except a number of readers suggested that it would not be as good as varnish.

Well its done now and I guess time will tell. Practical Boat Owner Magazine, about a year ago, suggested that you can varnish over Woodskin, so this may be a solution if I need to use it. The main criticism seems to have been that a hatch laying flat and facing the sky is more exposed than other wooden elements of a boat and that only varnish with strong UV protection will do the job. So far I am pleased with the results but here is a word of warning for anyone considering using the same process. Oil soaks into wood but not into rubber caulking. As a result I found that whereas the Woodskin was dry to the touch within a few hours of application on the wood, it stayed wet and sticky on the rubber for several weeks. In fact I think it would still be sticky had I not wiped and cleaned the rubber strips with white spirit.

Meanwhile, as I have been sanding and polishing Gel coat, another boat only 100 yards away has been getting a make-over too. This beached and abandoned fishing boat drew the attention of a local artist ‘Cadeon’ who said he wanted somehow to capture the spirit of her youth --- He’s done a pretty good job don’t you think?

Seaward

Classic Boats

Take a look at this beautiful classic sailing boat that turned up in my home port last week. I love her

traditional long deep keel, beautiful overhangs and wooden top- sides. She probably quite fast, an excellent take-you-anywhere sea boat – a cruiser for serious cruising, and she seems to be in remarkably good condition. Apparently a lot has been spent on her. Just look at that gleaming hull.

Now, you can’t do this, but what if you took a much closer look? What if, like me you could put your nose right up against her and look along the length of the hull? Then you would see countless hairline cracks in the gel-coat, visible only along the hull. Look straight at it and you won’t spot a thing. Truth is, there is something awfully and expensively wrong – the gel coat is crazed like a piece of Raku pottery and the only cure seems to be to take it all off and re-coat.

So here she is today partially stripped. Stripping is the easy bit – re-coating fairing and painting is going to take time and expertise. Good luck to her owner and his bank balance.

And, for those of you busy sanding and renovating a GRP hull, well here’s what she will look like if you sand too far. Interestingly, the gel-coat on this boat seems to be remarkably thin. The older boats like the one I’m working on have much greater depth.

Meanwhile here is another boat that turned up at about the same time. She’s a Westerly 22, a slightly older cousin of the vessel I am currently trying to renovate. She’s a funny looking old tub designed by Commander  Rayner  who went on to set up the Westerly Boat Company which produced one of the most popular sailing yachts of all time – the Westerly Centaur, there are plenty of these here.

As for this Westerly 22, believe it or not, examples of this diminutive sloop have crossed the Atlantic. Some say that with her turned-up nose she looked like a banana. Rayner preferred to describe them as ‘Whalebacks’. They were built like tanks and some say they sail like tanks also.

I hope she’ll stick around. As these boats age there are less of them to be found in the UK and they certainly are a rarity in France. It would be good to think that when I launch next year, my Nomad will be part of a larger fleet of classic Westerlies.

PS: If you want to read more about my neck of the woods and life here please visit: Frugal Living in France

Seaward 

Fifty Shades of White

Still sanding the boat – currently using P800 – to be followed by P1000, P1500 and P2000 wet and dry and then P3000 before I apply sealant and wax - this is a boring job so a good music sound system really helps. I’ve just about exhausted my collection of blues music by well known artists and so I’m moving into more obscure stuff. How did Robert Johnson get to be so good? Did he really sell his soul at the crossroads or did he just put in a bit of practice? Or is there a third possibility? Could he have met someone called Scrapper Blackwell? One certainly seems to have influenced the other. Such are my musings as I sand and sand and sand and sand to a twelve bar 12/8 shuffle.  Anyway, there is only so much a person can say about sanding – Did you know there are 50 shades of white as well as 50 Shades of Grey?

So here are a couple of recent happenings from the Rance estuary where I live.  First, a neighbour of mine has managed to purchase a Cornish Shrimper at a really good price. She seems to be seaworthy but needs a lot of cosmetic work so now there are two of us sanding and polishing. Andrew and partner (Stephie) came to dinner the other evening and both Susan and Stephie were amazed at the amount of time two guys could spend talking GRP and Gel-coat.  When I say ‘amazed’ please don’t assume they were also ‘impressed’, - they weren’t.

Second, I had to go to St Malo this week to purchase those fine sanding discs, the shop was on the quayside, so I took some time to wander round the boats. I recognized one immediately ‘Giselle’ a Cornish Crabber from St Helier Jersey. Although I recognized the boat the owner was new to me. It turns out he had purchased her very recently and this was her maiden voyage under his command. The crew comprised his wife and a friend. As I write this I am hoping his luck has changed because when I met him, the trip to date had been quite eventful. On the upper reaches of the estuary he’d left his friend in charge of the tiller while he undertook some chores below. The friend is a musician who thought he could handle the tiller and play a bit of acoustic blues at the same time. Bad idea - he couldn’t. So he ran aground on the steep sides of a well marked channel A good deal of weight and equipment had to be shifted and lots of cushions deployed in an attempt to keep the boat upright on the falling tide.

Apparently, there was another grounding later in the week further north in more open waters. If all is going to plan, he will be at sea now cruising along the northern coast of Brittany. There are fewer sandbanks here – but lots of rocks – hope he’s OK.

Finally, here's a picture I took recently of Le Foc – that’s French for a seal. This particular chic lives alone on the Estuary outside the village of Mordreuc. She seems to love being around people and often comes to join the sunbathers on the beach. Last year, some caring soul tried to provide her with a male companion. Was she pleased? Certainly not! She wasn’t up for sharing the estuary’s supply of bass and mackerel with any other seal no matter how good looking he may have been. There was a brief skirmish and he was last seen heading for open water as far away from Mordreuc as he could get.

Seaward

GRP Restoration

Susan and I took some time out recently to visit yet another of the many 'Ships Graveyards' dotted here and there along the Rance Estuary where we live. At first sight you'd be forgiven for thinking this old wooden hulk dates back to the nineteenth century.

This is not the case however, armed with the St Malo registration number, a little bit of internet research enabled us to date the building of this boat to the 1960s. Now I know she is a wooden boat and that she was probably worked hard during her day but she serves to show how quickly a boat can deteriorate in the harsh marine environment. At best, this vessel is only eight or nine years older than the craft I am busy trying to restore and renovate. Makes you think!

Now, there are two guys, regular internet bloggers, in whom I have absolute faith. Both have proven track records as craftsmen and boat restorers. If either said ‘jump’, the question would have to be ‘how high?’, but it doesn't help when their advice appears to be contradictory. John (the Unlikely Boat Builder) suggests a very practical benchmark for the standard of work you do on a boat hull – he calls it the 100 ft test. Basically after painting or polishing how good does your boat look from 100ft? If she looks fine from that distance she'll do. 

Helge Stokstad at Miranda og (gamle) Svarten however, suggests that you should sand the gel-coat way beyond what I need to achieve John’s standard.

Add 100ft test seems OK

Basically gel-coats become damaged and stained as time passes. To restore gel-coat you have to repair damage, remove cracks, fill holes and dings, then wash and sand the whole surface back to a nice new pristine white. The worse the original surface, the coarser sandpaper you begin with. Sandpaper is graded according to the number of grains for a given area of paper so the lower the number the larger the grains and the courser the paper. The grade is referred to as a ‘P’ number. A really course paper for use on gel-coat will have a ‘P’ number of about 80 or even 50.  A medium grade may be P125. My boat restoration ‘bible’ suggests that a really bad gel coat may need an initial sanding with P80 and a final sanding with P125. When it comes to preparation for polishing however, you need a much finer finish.

I started with P50 (the gel coat was really bad) and sanded down with progressively finer grades finishing with P190. At this stage the gel coat was quite smooth and it easily passed the 100ft test. Next stage for me then would be finishing with rubbing compound and polishing. Helge however, suggests that this isn't enough. He suggests continuing with progressively finer papers until I get to a P2000 wet paper. Problem is I haven’t ever seen a paper as fine as P2000.

Not only that but this seems like a huge amount of additional work, especially as I suspect that P2000 (if I can get it) will be in sheets for hand sanding rather than discs.

Why is Helge suggesting such a thorough treatment? Well it’s difficult to say because Helge’s blog site isn’t written in English so I have to rely on the brief English comments he makes to me. On this occasion I got the instructions but not the argument behind them. 

I have an idea though. When I started sanding I noticed that many of the scratches and marks I was trying to eradicate were circular in form, as if they had been created by a previous sanding session. So, you can get a perfectly good looking surface (according to the 100ft test) yet still have traces of groves and scratches cut into the gel coat by the sanding treatment. Polish and it will look fine – but how long will it be before dirt manages to get back into those hidden grooves? Helge’s suggestion, of working towards a finer surface, probably provides for a longer term fix.

So, what to do? Well, I have found some sheet P600 but it is flimsy stuff - meant for hand sanding. I’m going to try sticking it onto the back of used P50 discs. This will take me closer to Helge’s standard and with luck having a P600 paper on a disc will help speed up the process. Meanwhile, I’ll keep looking for even finer grades for finishing. Lets face it, I don’t want to have to go through this sanding process again in a couple of years time.

Seaward