While I have fiberglassed pieces and repaired parts of boats in my history, none of that quelled the anxiety of fiberglassing a whole boat for the first time. Nonetheless, to finish requires continuing on. Though Spring hadn’t really sprung, this past Saturday did offer temps in the 60 degree range allowing me to use both quartz and kerosene heaters to reach 75+ degrees in the garage.The glassing process sounds simple: have your tools ready (chip brush, stirring sticks, paper mixing cups, foam “hot dog” roller, squeegee, etc.), lay out the glass, smooth it with a soft brush, mix epoxy, pour that onto the boat, and distribute the goo by brush and squeegee. After all the build up, it was time to take the plunge. So, we began on the deck. I had decided a horizontal surface was perhaps the best way to begin. I worked the epoxy around the cockpit and had perhaps 1/3 of the deck surface wetted out before stepping back for a peak.  At 1st glimpse I was happy with the results. I still nervous about the epoxy pot life and having a wet edge to continue with, but the glass was translucent, brush hairs had been captured, and there were no white areas from too little epoxy. None of this concern was really necessary as the Raka material is very patient, and at the temps I was working with, it allowed for plenty finessing. The whole operation was going well. I even began to relax, when to my horror, I saw a faint color difference where I had previously patched nail holes. Had the epoxy not soaked in there? No, I apparently hadn’t sanded the residual epoxy entirely off the boat when filling those holes. As a result there was a slight barrier preventing the fresh epoxy from fully soaking in. I can’t tell you how bummed I was (and still am to some extent). After all the prep and what I thought to be conscientious studying, I had this disappointment. The thought of pulling off the glass and trying to remove the epoxy proved too daunting so, I elected to continue on, all the while kicking myself. I even debated on not posting this report. Strategic photos could hide the screw up. My middle son was quick to say it is hardly noticeable. I don’t know. I see it, and to know it didn’t have to be really irks me, especially after I tried both water and mineral spirits on several of these areas to satisfy myself that the filling could stay as is. Well, bad analysis there. It is done. No structural flaws and the remaining 2 fill coats worked fine. The 3 epoxy coats were separated by 8 hrs hardening time or at least until no longer tacky so that the coats will bond to each other without sanding.On with the show. Here are the photos.

Chica was hauled to the heavens for more ground.

A warmer day, but not warm enough.

12k btu kerosene heater pushes some heat.

Raka’s UV epoxy here. I wanted to make darn sure the pumps stayed with their proper bottles. Also shown is the 12 oz. paper measuring cup for metering the juice. Not my idea, but I don’t recall who to give credit. I worked with 1 cup mixes. Perfect really. After marking 1/3 cup intervals on one cup, it was placed inside another with a window and marks were transferred. Though pumps seemed accurate, this prevents you from forgetting the count.

A template of the cockpit’s inside curve marked the limits of glassing required.

I covered the stem ends from epoxy. These are already glued to the hull.

A chip brush smooths the cloth without snags and avoids oil from handling.

Cockpit opening is cut for better lying of the glass. I did have to cleat the aft of the opening as it had released from the mould there.

The horror. residual epoxy telegraphing through. So be it. After 1st coat. The rest was flawless too.

Bulkheads got one coat of epoxy & glass for both sides. Ciao!

I’m now itching to glass this boat (no puns re: scratching). Mother nature however has not warmed up to the idea. Though the thought of moving into the dining room is tempting, it is not an option, but give me credit for the thought. Actually, flashbacks of someone screaming after I painted a road bike in a kitchen years and years ago still put on the brakes. Who says there isn’t something to learn in every situation?. All I can say is, cover up all you want, but that mist can travel! I’ll leave that to the reader’s imagination. No pictures were taken then so, maybe it is plausible to deny. This can be considered a work of fiction.

I do have a few photos here from moving the boat out for the final deck sanding prior to glass on Saturday. Otherwise, I used a good part of the day to make some boxes to store my multiplying clamp collection. They are modified drawers from the old bath vanity. Also, I added more pulleys to the lifting supports raising the Moth off the garage floor. Also cut some trees back in the yard. We’ll see if they survive, soon I hope.

I’m now seriously considering heating the garage on a 60 degree day up to delivered the needed 70 (epoxy temp). However, temps crashed again on Sunday and delivered more snow. So, I’ll leave you with a few long views of the boat. This is prior to the sanding, and epoxied nail holes are obvious. Painter’s tape has since been removed.

port side view

port aft qtr

stbd aft qtr

Yesterday, I cut cradles for the deck and hull. Working at chest height makes a huge difference.

I’m now sitting by the wood stove after a productive afternoon. Planed, sanded with 60 then 120 grit, and filled the nail holes with sawdust and epoxy in the deck. While the temps have not been agreeable for glassing yet, they are fine for this exercise. I had hoped to do all this outside, but rain prevented. Using a fan on the deck pointing out the garage may have helped, but there is a fine dust all over the garage (more work, clean up, later).

I had thought I was more careful aligning the strips on the deck, but apparently not. There was much more planing required. Chalk it up to learning. Results still look great. Pics below-

Next up will be glassing of bulkheads as prelude to the deck.

A small portion of shavings.

tresses

port side

aft deck

long shot

nice close up

Started an initial planing of the deck last night and began shaping the mahogany on the prow at the deck. Here are a few pics that are likely to irritate the fastidious. Please reserve judgement for final results. As a general note, the deck looks good.Planing doesn’t open joints to expose more glue. There is an odd almost indented place to either side of the cockpit at 4 and 8 o’clock. I don’t believe it was intended, but I got symmetrical results. Doesn’t look bad. It is what it is.

The most egregious clamping of all!

Sometimes you just keep adding junk until the task is done. Some sort of strap would have been better, but this worked. No need for a patent here though.

“cannonball hole”.

When I mentioned that I had put the last strip on the boat, my youngest boy (9yrs) piped up and asked, “What about the cannonball hole?” Well put. You can see a light pencil line of the final hole for the cockpit. I didn’t want to fair any more area than needed. Some of this I’ll cut back before glassing as projecting sticks will mess up the laying of the fabric I think.

Deck fairing begins.

Once the deck is stripped out, I’m told you’re at the halfway point in the build. It has gone quicker than expected and has been a joy really. Yet, at some point this past week I became much more absorbed with turning another page on this kayak. Taking pics became a distraction, but I did continually stepped back to admire the lines.With the hull ready for glassing, the deck seemed an easier undertaking. In reality it is perhaps more difficult, yet my new found skills have allowed me to motor on through completing the strips. I’ve become proficient at measuring, whittling, planing, and then sometimes giving a slight sanding to the tapered ends of strips for a tight fit.

Thursday night, with the help of the “crew” that showed for dinner, we put the table saw back in the shed. It deserves better care than it has had over the past 2 months. I also thought any more cutting would be of shorter boards. As luck would have it, I ran short on strips and have been scarfing pieces together, but generally that went well.

The weekend allowed for much progress. Was expecting to complete the stripping, but we are still seven strips shy of a “full deck”. Ran out of time … and to some extent, energy. Slept well last night in spite of the time change. Having the extra daylight hour as the days get longer is going to improve productivity. Working in the evening with more daylight will definitely give a psychological boost. Sunday was by far the nicest day of the year thus far. the warmer weather has me eager for the 1st splash.

I had thought the deck would be easier than the hull. There is physically less of it. Yet, the strips are really tortured left and right of the cockpit. A tremendous amount of twist here requires using the heat gun to relax the ligaments in the wood. Additionally, there is a rolling bevel that must be shaved here to assure a nice joint. I think I’ve got it, but only later planing and sanding will tell. I’m certain the underside will show some misses. Thankfully that will be hidden.

Here are shots of the steps to fit a strip:

mark the cut

Step 1: lay the new strip in the opening and draw a scribe line from the start of the hole to where the strip exits the lower edge of the hole. If done carefully, you are 95% fitted.

Step 2: whittle close (1/16″ removed) to the line.
A sharp stout knife works best for getting there quick.

whittle to line

Step 3: hand plane to line.
Depending on the strip, a bevel may be needed.
Occasionally a slight sanding may be needed for the final touches.
Test fit several times to confirm a tight fit.

I’ll cast in the remaining pics for proof of work. Not much to add. I was getting short on full strips and scarfed several together. The ragged opening in the center will be the cockpit cut out so craftsmanship here went out the window. None required, unless you think the attitude reflects on the rest. So be it.

I’ve now 92 hours in actual building time here. Surprisingly, the rewards have far outweighed the struggles. I had suspected more drudgery to this. Honestly the worst part has been the sawhorse veiling and unveiling. That shouldn’t even be an issue with a larger space. So, I’m pleased. One of the benefits of building your own is the ability to customize the vessel to your tastes and wishes. Some are intended. Others are serendipitous. This goes beyond the boat’s shape, though some may play with that. I haven’t (at least not intentionally). The manual accompanying the plans is quite complete. However, I’ve studied the process enough to consider  a few changes on my terms. Some are in detail. Some in technique. Neither is necessarily better or worse, but perhaps more justly a chance to experiment. No 2 boats are alike primarily due to the nature of wood (no 2 trees are the same) and secondarily due to the fabricator.  I feel I’ve profited from a few accidents so far, but mostly this has all been a learning process. It’s nice to master some tools and techniques, at least on a competent basis.

Got the initial shear strips on at 1/2 width and have toyed with a racing stripe down the center line. I dug through my wood pile and located some mahogany scraps I can ripped to accent the stripe. Some scarfing will be required, but the tight grain makes it all but invisible. Look past all the clamps for a view of last night’s cobbling …

Racing stripe

1/2 width shear strips. blue tape prevents deck to hull gluing.

How Blogger arranges these photos I can’t figure. the post rarely reflects the draft.  this last pic shows mostly tape, but also a strip after cut by pocket knife to approximate bevel after which hand planing gets it true and then, …  lots of tape. the stems have such an upward sweep that the strips have yet to stay put. I hope additional adjoining strips will force compliance.

Bow with a roll of masking tape!

In my opinion the worst part of any job is the cleanup. There is no exception, even in a labor of love. To make a simple rip cut requires much disassembly of my table saw’s “homeless shelter”. I now have 2 tarps and a portable tent guarding my saw from the elements. While the temperature and humidity are relatively the same in the shed, the rain and snow we’ve had do compromise the saw. I now hear “rust” when it rains. The shed is too short for kayak lumber. I’ve considered putting a window in the end opposite the door to accommodate long boards. Hopefully we can put the table saw back in her home in a week. I hope to have all the strips for the deck in place soon. having to uncover and then cover with each use has been an excuse not to work.

Nonetheless, the robes came off the saw yesterday and the decking began. It feels good to be moving on the project again. I elected to forgo glassing now, glue the forms back on the hull, unscrew it from the strongback, and cradle it all between slings nailed to the sawhorses.

You can see the sweet flow of the deck now.

boat in slings.

“Schmutz” patches on the bow.

I had some concern that I had a couple flat places in the hull along the shear where the strips were pulled too tightly, primarily just aft of the cockpit. Thankfully, those seem to have smoothed themselves out once the hull was released from the forms. However, I had hot melted the hull back on all but the stem forms and apparently missed the keel alignment by 1/8″. So, I broke the middle 6-8 forms out and repositioned. This also gave me the opportunity to  examine the joints in the strips on the interior. With a few exceptions in the bow and stern which need some of what Nick Schade calls “dookie schmutz”, they all looked pretty good. I’ll list his book(s) and other resources at some point. aside from the wondrous online knowledge, there are some very well illustrated expert sources. Nick also has a number of YouTube videos that are instructive too.

Not pictured are the few strips I’ve added to the deck. the shear is a real tight bend and I ripped the typical 3/4″ strip in half with a bevelled cut for 2 usable strips. This is likely the toughest part of the boat as these shear strips twist quite a bit fore and aft requiring patient hand planing for a proper snug fit to the hull and each other. Now that I have some of the technique down it is fun.

Lastly, I had considered making 3 cradles to support the hull back in the strongback as the height in the slings is back breaking, but a chair is working for now. Once sanding is needed, I think I’ll resort to forms. We’ll see. It may be a diversion at some point and simple to set up.

Over & out-

Finally the stars aligned, the rain stopped, and I had time to sand. To my surprise it was not so painful. After almost 2 hours I can’t say it was enjoyable, but it was rewarding. The boat is looking great. The Makita ROS does relatively quick work of the task. 1st sanding used 60 grit disks. The technique is to keep the sander moving over the hull in 6-8″ circular motions. I won’t belabor the issue, but moving in a line will only reinforce any flat areas left by the planer. There is a good sanding descriptive on Laughing Loon’s Shop Tips. So, here are some pics showing the hull both sanded and wetted out (with water). The kayak really starts to show its color.

Hull on gangrenous deck.

wet

inner stem prior to inside sanding. I’ll add an epoxy fillet.

sanded close up

wet close up. Nail holes look fine.

port bow

Illusions of the final color. Wet port bow.

Not much to report on I’m afraid. We took last weekend off to enjoy a trip to the mountains. Here are a few photos to get the idea of the place.

Before the afternoon snow.

Very effective fireplace. Oak left hardly any ash.

Old cabin window

Old porch.

Marriage of old & new cabins. Well done.

Kept the fireplace going non-stop. Did some target practice. Ate too much and had a morning hike (too short to offset the good food).

House chores have slowed progress this weekend. I did manage to carve out a pair of toggles for lifting the boat bow & stern. I had laminated scraps from the build thus far with carpenters glue.

Toggles blocked out for planing.

Laminations are of Mahogany, Yellow Pine and western Red Cedar. Holes were drilled on the press prior to any shaping. I’ve become a great fan of planes. They make quick work, no dust and eliminate sanding for the most part.

Filed recess for the line.

After a slot was chiseled, the round file got us close for a slight recess. Sandpaper wrapped around the file did the rest.

Shaped and ready for varnish.

These are no great design, but are an evolution from the 2 previous sets I did for the SOF yaks. Simple, handy, and functional.

with 2 coats of varnish

These will be the colors in the kayak. Used Petit’s Z-Spar gloss varnish. I don’t know if it is still true, but I’ve always thought gloss is harder than satin. I’ll let this 2nd coat harden and put a final coat on later.
Otherwise, I hope to try some epoxy & glass on the 2 bulkheads I glued up previously. the temps are not likely to be warm enough for glassing the hull anytime soon. I may consider making some sort of plastic tent over the boat to trap heat from an oil filled radiator heater. I want to get on with this project. Spring and sailing is coming!

PS: yes that is apencil line across one toggle. I don’t mind a bit of the hand left in the construction. Like the nail holes, I see it as “character”. I’m not looking to have a piece of furniture though I’m sure that 1st scratch will hurt.

You can’t blame everything on your parents, but this one thing I am certain I can: my love of “messing about in boats”. Early memories evoke summer evenings at age 3 or 4 lying in the bottom of a small sloop as she slid across the Lafayette River. The warm sea air, the sparkling reflection s of shore lights, and perhaps most infectious, the hypnotic movement of a vessel on the water. This all conspired to lure me in.

Fast forward many years and countless such evenings, I now find myself these recent evenings in a cluttered garage 100 miles from the ocean. The purpose? To dream childhood memories and build a boat. Not just any boat (certainly not an Ark), but one of the 3 boats this “sailor” has concluded fit his boating needs. They are an 18′ touring kayak called an Outer-Island, a small 14′ sailing skiff named the Melonseed, and 25′ keelboat known as the Nordic Folkboat. I’ve no illusions of building the latter and have whiled away hours staring at the skiff. However, I have finally put strips to forms for my kayak.

How long will it take? A guess would only be that. Others have approximated 300-400 hours. that alone intimidates. Where does it come from? Do you include the unrecorded hours of investigation, correspondence, gathering of tools and materials, and the dreaming? Surely not, but nonetheless, I have begun to record the actual build time. It all makes no sense … unless you are a romantic, and I was hooked as a baby boy.

So, enough of the “why”. I don’t have an answer, don’t want to be a writer (much less a poet), but I do desire to record my progress and process in hopes that it will force a finish and paddle up some river or across a small bay. I too feel some indebtedness to the many folks who educated me regarding this build and to those who’ve kept me from drowning early on.

30 hours. That’s actual cobbling pieces together for you accountants (who aren’t likely to be so touched as to build a boat). I’m nuts and am going to do this contrary to notions of being reasonable. After all the studying, the learning begins. And so, as I continue to figure things out, … this … is … a start.