The ballast bin is finished. The cupboard -- cut and partially assembled -- has started to rot. Good thing I hadn't finished it or anything.

Note: bamboo flooring is not suitable for making cupboards in a marine environment. Bamboo sticks don't make good curtain rods. I don't care what the marketing literature says, bamboo DOES grow mold. With considerable skill. It's strictly for outdoor, UV-saturated environments.

Still finding cat hair

I've been having a hard time lately without Arthur Cat. I'm building a ballast-box and and a cabinet in the engine space, so perhaps these fundamental changes stir things up? I don't know. It's certain he would have loved investigating it. He loved investigating the motor, although I sometimes wonder if the lithium grease he invariably found had something to do with that.

I'll post pictures when it's further along. Right now the mess is frightful and splinters of glass get into everything.

Selling my future; securing my presents

I cashed in my 401k. (A tough decision once I remembered I had one to cash in, but if I don't survive the winter, there will be no retirement to plan for.) I paid off the boat (WAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!), got a survey done (my boat is worth 3k more than I paid for it!), and it just occurred to me that, with careful shopping, I can get nearly everything on that wish-list. And still have 6 months' living socked away.

Today, I've got to fix leaks ahead of the impending rain. The surveyor gave me stellar suggestions about where they might be coming from.

Real wish list

In no particular order, and just for the hell of it ...

• 1/4" plywood, ACX grade (hard to find inland, but it does exist) - this is basically marine-grade plywood without the "marine-grade!" markup


• 1/8" luan plywood


• 1-1/2" bolts, stainless steel, 6 ga., 8 ga., and 1/4" diam. With nylon locknuts.


• Stainless steel dress washers for 1/4" hafts


• CPES: clear penetrating epoxy sealant (any size)


• White/warm white primer for one-part above-water yacht enamel (1-1/2 qt)


• Drill bits (standard sizes) that will go through stainless or fiberglass more than a couple times


• Wet/dry sandpaper, 600, 800, and clearcoat grade (~2000), ~3-5 sheets each


• 50' 6 to 8 ga. two-strand tinned copper wiring (green and white, given the choice) with 4 pr shrink-wrap 3/8" terminals.
  
• Standard, normal carb-cleaning kit, like from an auto parts store.


• 10-20 hours' labor, mostly minimally skilled.

OMG I have a door! //550 words, just over 1 page

After being racked up for a couple weeks, I got back into commission with a bang. Several, actually.

The door to my head was stubborn, stuck, and clunky (head means bathroom, smartalecks!) and finally I saw why: it was warped.

No comment.

I took out the sill, removed the door and what little hardware was on it (another sore point), and tried turning it different ways. Repositioning wouldn't work; it was going to have to be surgery.

I wish I had pictures, because this was pretty amazing.

I took my Magic Pull Saw and sliced off a nearly 1/4" thick wedge from the taller side. As long as you let the tool do the work, it's like slicing butter - very slowly.

I took a cold chisel and scored a line across the bottom edge of the door, slightly above the level where constantly getting stuck in its sliding channel had worn a shiny band across the wood. I removed the thin, splintery wood around the wheel wells, from which the wheels had long since rotted away.

Then I picked up my Magic Graphite Hammer and removed 1/8" - 1/4" of thickness from that scored line downwards.

I have some really great hand tools.

My orbital sander broke last week, so I took a little extra time to smooth things out with the chisel.

I rubbed it well with coconut oil. Two coats on the bottom band. The sun-bleached parts I also rubbed with olive oil, so they'd darken up over the next couple days.

I remounted the door and screwed inthe sill. It slid like a dream, like silk over bare skin. Aaaah.

None of the locking arrangements had worked (1 to lock it open under way, 1 to lock it closed) and the mirror had been too high. I cleaned and oiled the mirror and its frame (a sturdy object which I think will outlast me) and screwed it in at a sensible height. I put a hook on the _back_ edge of the door and attached one eye to the bulkhead in the closed position, and one in the open position. That way, it's harder for any mischeivous friends to pop the lock from the outside (I grew up with two brothers.)

I mounted a handle - at long last. There is finally a hand-friendly way to move this thing.

All that remains is to make a handle for the cabin-side of the door. It will have to slip into the pocket without sticking. There's a hole in the right place from a previous effort; I'll use a bootlace to make a loop. That should do the trick and still look good against the teak.

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Addendum:

I was so impressed with the chisel and hammer that I used them again. I lucked into a cheap bag of teak handles of the inset type, where you stick your fingertips inside a little box, and the box is set into the door. I drilled sinkholes on the cabin side of the door, then, working with fortuitous arrangements of the grain, I slowly and gently chiseled out a pocket to insert the handle into. I checked the fit, applied wood glue (Titebond 3, great stuff), and carefully tapped the handle into place. Looks like it was made that way. Much classier than a leather thong.

Galley slaving: photographing the refit

I gave the staff at the harbor master's office the following slideshow, to let them know why I've been spending so much time on the boat. It includes images explained in prior posts, but I'm just going to put them all here.

It was a TRIP to look back at this stuff. It was a great opportunity to feel how remarkable my progress has been. I told the assistant harbor master, "I have to work in 10-20 minute increments, because of the problem with my hands. I’m not whining, I just want you to be suitably impressed." So bear that in mind ...

Joyce took this picture shortly after I bought the boat. Note the tiny shelf holding dishes, and a big open space with a mop handle leaning across it. That space originally held an oven; without that, it's just useless gap.



First, I extended that tiny shelf with a couple of red oak planks and put a hinge between them, providing access to the under-counter space. Then I installed a beautiful redwood board, chosen for its relative softness (less damaging to land against in a blow) and fire resistance, since this is where I put my camp stove (often stowed when not in use.)



The green hair scrunchy is attached to an eye screw. That's what you use to pull up the front half of the shelf. Easy to find, easy to use, easy to replace, hard to break.

In the next picture, you're looking underneath the lifted oak shelf to the teapot and pans below. You're looking at almost every cooking dish.



Pretty compact, huh?

Underneath those, I put the garbage and recycling bins. Note the space between them, so you can brace yourself with 1 foot forward:



I got tired of tripping over whichever pair of shoes I wasn't wearing, so I got a couple of coat hooks and improvised a secure shoe rack out of the way, but close to the companionway. When you're standing facing the galley, this is on your left, towards the front of the ship:



To me, the next picture represents a real coup. There was some kind of air leak in the fresh water line, and I finally found the damn thing and locked it off until I can fix the other sink. So, after nine months of running around filling bottles, I finally have flowing water:



And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what I've been doing with my summer. And part of my spring.

Also been working on brightwork (installed wood, to you landlubbers), sorting out stowage, fixing & reinstalling the door to the head, getting rid of moldy cushions, working out a functional computer set up (almost there), and trying to nerve myself to the task of teaching the cat to use the toilet so I don't have to keep wrestling with the litter box. It's one of the biggest items on the boat! There's something very wrong with that. Think about it…