Layers on layers: lamination and contingencies

I took pictures of this process... and one day, my camera may turn up again so I can share them with you.

Here's the background: I have to get an outboard motor onto my boat, since the inboard is unusable. The back of the boat, like many sailboats, is slanted: however, that outboard has to remain upright. This means I have to straighten up the part of the stern I put the motor on, before I mount the motor. You do this by building a wedge that rests against the stern, and then you put the motor mount on that, and then you clip the motor to the motor mount.

Got that? Slanted stern needs to acquire a vertical surface; motor mount attaches to the vertical surface; motor attaches to the motor mount.

The motor mount, you've already heard about. Sigh. This is about the wedge, intended to create that vertical surface.

Learning about the materials

I tried using a block of walnut burl. It was very pretty, but the thin end of the wedge had started crumbling before I ever got it mounted. So now I know that walnut burl is brittle. A useful lesson.

After much thought and a little conversation, it seems that laminating up a plywood block was the best idea. I learned that epoxy resin is better for bonding, while polyester resin is better for coating. Polyester resin provides some UV protection, and epoxy is susceptible to UV; polyester resin does not bond as well as epoxy, although it coats better.

So I was going to use epoxy to bond several pieces of plywood together, have it cut to the correct dimensions, and then use polyester for the protective coating. Not as pretty as varnish, but very sturdy and easy to maintain.

Getting and prepping the wood

I spent a couple weeks keeping my eyes peeled for high-quality plywood of a size I could use. Lumber yard scrap boxes are wonderful playpens, and I loved having an excuse to dig in them.

I found enough pieces in the scrap boxes, of the right quality and the right size, that almost everything was free. That was nice! It was even nicer when one of the crotchety old gentlemen at my favorite hardware store cut the longer piece up and refused to charge me, since he knew my situation.

I sanded the surfaces to 80 grit because I wanted to remove the graining, which would create gaps, but leave enough texture for the epoxy to get a good grip on.

Doing the lamination

I carefully mixed the epoxy, using slow hardener in order to give myself enough time to work before it started curdling. I painted it onto facing surfaces of the first two pieces, laid the pieces one on top of the other, and gently moved the upper piece in small circles and crosses while pressing down. I did this until I felt that it was no longer slithering, but there was perceptible contact over most of the surface.

I didn't want to squeeze too much epoxy out, but I wanted no more than necessary. I didn't need bands of epoxy, I needed bonded surfaces. Epoxy grows brittle with age, and it would suck to have a plate fall off in the middle of the Bay.

I repeated this process with each layer, and had to watch the lower layers: if I left too much resin in a lower layer, that plate was going to slip, and I'd have to back up and do it again. A couple of times, I realized I was trying to mate two pieces that had a slight antithetical curve, so I had to flip the top piece over, coat the inside, do the pressing and wiggling with gobs of epoxy all over my gloves -- and then quickly repaint the goopy surface, paint its mate, and wiggle those together as well, hoping I hadn't created any gaps which could subsequently fail.

Once it was done, I covered everything with paper bags and wrapped it in a vinyl tablecloth to keep off the dew. Then I put a 5 gallon pickle bucket on top. Wait, there's a reason for that -- I put about 4 gallons of water in the bucket, which would make about 30 pounds of weight. 15 pounds would've been a minimum according to my reading, and 20 pounds would probably have been enough, but 45 or 50 would have been too much -- pushing out too much resin to form an effective bond. I thought 30 was about right.

Cutting and finishing

It looked pretty good when I took the bucket off after 24 hours. I wanted to leave it to cure for a full week, but the guy who said he would help mount it said he thought he would come sooner than that. After five days, I went ahead and had it cut at Svendsen's Boatworks -- and was so pleased with the result that I had to take it over to show to my pals at the Chandlery. Even the guy who used to laminate bows was impressed. (See, this is why I wanted a picture.)

I slathered polyester resin on it this evening. My prospective helper apparently got a better offer, but it's just as well, because of the mount situation. But I now have a wedge, and that, at least, is something.

And then there's the futility of it all

And now, for the bad news... I'm going to New York for a couple of weeks, to stay with a longtime friend. (That isn't the bad news.) She strenuously wants me to come and live in her spare room indefinitely, she and her husband providing room and board for nothing more than the pleasure of my company. (I don't know what to say to that.)

After about four or five days, I just hate New York. It's a fascinating city to visit, but as a place to live, it's a strangling, stultifying, feculent pit. Jean agrees with me, and I really feel sorry for her, having to live there.

I know that dear sweet Jeanie will press her invitation upon me as if she were laminating it.

For one thing, Disability is still stiffing me because of the insurance error. For another, despite all my clever adaptations, doing major work on this boat is increasingly beyond me. So my survival, if I continue to try to live life on my own terms, is an open question.

I have to seriously consider her offer.

Between you and me, Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. ... Wait, somebody already said that.