Boat Tales

I get a lot of cool email thanks to the blog: I’ve heard from people we’ve met in passing; been given ideas about places yet to come; we’ve been given tips and kudos; and occasionally even been told off; I’ve heard from people who know of my ancestors; and people who think they might be related; I’ve been asked for boat advice, cruising advice, parenting advice and writing advice (and been given loads of the same); and I’ve loved reading them all. But possibly my favourite letter so far came from the grandson of the man who originally built our boat:

“Have I found my granddad’s boat—Dreamtime?” the email from Ireland started.

Learning the history of a boat can be a tricky thing. Being mobile, rename-able, paint-able and in our case completely renovate-able—it’s easy to lose track of a boat’s history. Especially once they’ve sailed through a few owners.

Ceilydh--shortly after buying her

We knew a few things about Ceilydh (ex-Dos Cerveza (sigh), ex-Dreamtime). We knew she had been built in a small yard on Gabriola Island and launched in 1987. We knew she cruised to Alaska at some point in her early life. Then we knew the owner died at some point and the person who bought her tried to charter her as a party boat to indifferent success. By the time we found her in 2004 she was mossy, mouldy and a refuge for wasps.

moss and heaps of 'stuff' showed her neglect

but the pretty varnish (old settee area--now main bunk) showed she'd been loved

 As we brought her back to life we learned things—we met Richard Woods, her designer and consulted him on our modifications (he suggested the cabin was too boxy—we agreed, but we’re tall). We met Grey Davis—who worked in the yard where she was built and learned about the construction methods and materials.

All excellent stuff.

But if you’ve ever owned a boat you know they are so much more than systems and construction techniques. You know that the galleys hold the memories of meals cooked underway, and celebratory dinners when you hit that special anchorage. The settees hold the echoes of tall tales and stories told. The wheel holds the imprint of white-knuckle moments and sublime bliss. The decks hold the stamp of hard work and quiet contemplation.

"My Granddad’s passion was sailing - more specifically - he loved Catamarans. He knew Richard Woods from his time in the UK - and that's why he chose the Meander design. Before Dreamtime - he owned a 25 foot Cat.

I remember being shown home movies of the launch of Dreamtime. The launch was at a place known locally as "The Brickyard" on Gabriola. Roads had to be closed to enable her to drive the short distance from Grey's yard to the launch site.”

 Her first big voyage was to Glacier Bay, Alaska. My Granddad, Nan, two cousins and myself all set sail for a 3 month trip. (A trip I hope to repeat some day with my wife and 3 kids!!!)

I have some wonderful memories of my time with my grandparents on board Dreamtime. I know when you found her she was a little sore on the eyes - but when my Granddad was alive - she always looked great.”

While these memories might somehow be part of the boat, I think things like the echo of long-ago laughter is usually mistaken for wind in the rigging. It takes being told the stories for a boat’s past to come back alive.

 “You may notice a little damage on the Starboard Dagger Board - this was caused by an error in navigation - and a 4 hour wait until the tide came in (my Granddad's excuse was that the chart was out-of-date!!!!)

Does the fresh water erupt like a volcano when you fill it up? - Apparently this was due to no breathing holes being present in the tanks - it was always a good joke to let someone fill her with water and watch them get a good soaking!”

Working hard

 Perhaps I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, but it makes me feel good that we rescued Dreamtime and gave her a new life. And I love the images I now have of her early days—of three cousins and their grandparents on a life changing trip to Alaska…

Curious how many people know the histories of their boats? Any stories out there?

Lustful Impure Thoughts

I’m not sure if it’s possible to cheat on a boat. But if it is, I have: in thought and deed.

I’m in love.

I covet my neighbour’s boat.

To be clear—it wasn’t my idea to sail outside my own hulls. We hadn’t been anchored at Musket Cove for more than an hour when a total stranger dinghied up to our boat and asked if we planned to race in the round Malolo Island race. Bruce (it turns out 50% of Kiwi sailors are called Bruce btw…) said he was looking for crew and if we were interested in mixing things up a bit…

We have a jury-rigged shroud and our old main is about to dissolve (new rig and sail arrive this weekend!!) so we said we probably wouldn’t sail and which boat was his? He pointed at a very hot looking cat anchored near us. “The F41?” Evan asked in a rather squeaky voice, “Yes, we’ll crew.”

I’ve had the occasional boat crush—but typically I lust over something specific—a hull layout, a really roomy stateroom, doors… But when we climbed aboard the F41 this morning I realized why Evan squeaked: This is the boat of my fantasies. Darkly sultry dreams I never even knew I had. I have never been aboard a boat that is more perfectly what I want—it’s everything I love about our boat combined with a whole bunch of details I’ve yearned for. And this was even before we raised the sails.

 After we raised the sails it was hopeless—I’m not sure if it was the first time I rotated the mast, or when the boat started to thrum as we hit the sweet spot, or when we started chewing up the fleet and spitting them out. But as we passed big, lusty, fast boats and just effortlessly kept accelerating through gusty winds and good-sized seas I decided I had to have one—an F41 of my own.

the kind of view that leaves me weak-kneed and breathless

 So as Evan and Maia head to the awards ceremony with Bruce and Diana to claim our prizes I’m trying to sort out how to get this boat. If we sell everything we have and work maybe ten, fifteen years it should be doable…

Oh my cheating heart.

Reefing Issues... (A technical post by Evan, who's puzzled)

When we bought our boat it wasn't set up to reef the main at all. So when we added the cabin I set it up for single reef point lines--which worked o.k.. Then the One-Eyed La Paz sailmaker added a second reef and the line leading got complicated.

I've got 3 cheek blocks on the side of the mast for:
- reef 1 tack
- reef 2 tack (currently being used for topping lift but lead angle sucks)
- main halyd
I think these will all work ok though I will upgrade wee plastic Harken 57 carbo cheek block to a bigger cheek block for a reef.  They lead to the 3 Spinlock clutches to stbd.

From the aft end of the boom I have 4 lines:
- reef 1 clew
- reef 2 clew
- topping lift
- outhaul

My thinking is to use 2 of the integrated sheaves at the front of the boom for the outhaul/topping lift because they are less loaded than the reef clew lines. I would use the Harken block aft of these on the boom for reef 1 and add one more sturdy Harken block for reef 2.

The 4 lines coming aft would go to the triple Easylock clutch + 1 cam cleat for the topping lift.

My big issue is that I only have one double block below on the mast to turn 4 lines coming aft. The mast base is too low to directly attach blocks because of the curve of the cabin roof top. This is all background to my big question:  how do I reasonably attach another double block to the mast so I can run 2 more lines aft without lines fouling the existing double block?

I sent my question off to Jamie the Two-Eyed Sailmaker on Totem and got this response (we're leaning toward 3e but welcome further discussion):

Complicated, damn!

1.       First thought, not suggesting that you try major changes, but I’m not a fan of single line/aft led reefing. The longer line runs allow more stretch/chafe, lines clutter up the cockpit, and it maintains big stress on the gooseneck. Is it possible to simplify even 1 less line going aft, such as the topping lift – instead exit to a cleat on the boom? Or if the outhaul has a purchase inside the boom it can be cleated on the boom?

2.       Along similar lines (ha ha) if it takes 2 people to reef anyway consider removing luff reef lines and use the tack hook/dog-ear method. Doesn’t solve aft-led line problem, but I does simplify the whole affair.

3.       If you’re stuck and really need to run 7 lines aft (3 from stbd mast wall, 4 from mast base) a few options come to mind for the 4 mast base lines– though a little tough from the pictures to see how the double block attaches.

a.       Replace 2 sheave block with 4 sheave block (Harken?). Downside is different load/function lines running through same block system will likely led to lines binding.

b.      Use 2 blocks with 2 sheaves each vertically oriented (currently horizontally oriented). Each block base could be non-swiveling and shackled to a single large shackle (or stout O-ring) at the mast base. Use the 2 smaller sheave for the outhaul and topping lift lines / larger sheaves for leach reef lines. Binding may still be an issue, but maybe less so.

c.       Use 2 block, 2 sheaves each. Attach 2 Spectra (yes, I got it in there!) pennants to the spot where current 2 sheave is attached. Lead them forward, around the mast and back so that one block is oriented on each side of the mast (but just aft of the mast). This gets some separation between the blocks and puts the block a little higher (if that helps). You could also use some bungee cord to prevent each block from moving too far out of place when not under load. Be sure that the base attachment point is up to the lateral loads.

d.      Skip the fairlead approach and just bring lots of line.

e.      With boats moving toward lifting keels, why not go one up and set-up a dropping mast. The mainsail remains fixed at the mast head. Build a carbon column from the mast base to the bilge. Cut hole in bottom. Install 1203:1 purchase system for dropping/lifting the rig. Of course the shrouds may loosen a bit but the mast will be shorter, so shrouds become superfluous – like nipples on a man.

f.        Duct Tape!

g.       Real men don’t reef anyway you pansy.

h.      You’re in a catamaran, so what you really need to worry about – because you’ll be upside down – is reefing the dagger boards.

i.         You’ve read Harry Potter right? Skip the boat and use the flu network.

A (soft) bow padeye--Technical cat stuff

Our boat didn't come with any strong bow padeyes for an anchoring bridle.  We use a couple of spinnaker blocks for our bridle.  But they have a couple of drawbacks:  the blocks use chainplates that are not oriented the correct direction for an anchor bridle loads, and they are on the outboard side of the hulls, so the bridle chafes the hull a bit.  So we need a strong connection point on the inside of each hull.  It would be great if this was strong enough for our parachute sea anchor as well, and the existing spin block chainplates would be nowhere near strong enough for that.

I've noticed that older production cats often are missing these too, but newer ones are starting to incorporate them into the boat, usually at the ends of the forward cross beam.  I would be wary of using some of them for a parachute sea anchor though.  Most don't appear robust enough.  For ordinary anchoring bridles they should be o.k.

I could just go the easy way and get a couple of very high strength s.s. padeyes, add some internal fiberglass reinforcing to the bow and call it good.  But these padeyes are costly (> $100 each).  They also concentrate the load in a fairly small area which is not good for cored construction since there is no existing high strength core in that area.  It would be better to spread the load a bit.  And that's what the soft padeye design is designed to do.  The drawing below tells the story pretty well, but a bit of background in order.

The design load should be greater than the breaking strength of the 5/8" double braid nylon sea anchor rode, or about 15,000 lbs.  I will use a 1/4" spectra rope lashing for the connection to a bridle.  6 turns of 1/4" spectra have a breaking strength of around 44,000 lbs if you don't use knots on the loaded portion.  A lashing with a number of half hitches keeps the loaded part knot-free.  I'm sure I wouldn't get close to a 44,000 lb strength, but I'm also sure it will be stronger than the anchor rode too.

To secure the lashing inside the boat, a 6" length of aluminum pipe is used.  These are sometimes called "dogbones".  This gives the spectra a nice big radius to go around and spreads the load over a bigger section of hull.  The inside of the bow will have extra glass reinforcement added in the load bearing area.  Then I'll use a bit of grp pipe I have to protect the core and prevent any localized compression failure.  I'll also use a bit of round grp cover plate glued on the outside to spread any shear loads into the hull skin.

On a racing sailboat I'd just bodge a whole bunch of silicon caulking into the fibers of the rope and the opening and accept a bit of inevitable leakage.  I'll try that first, but if it leaks too much I'll probably fabricate a very light grp box to contain the leaks with a drain hole at the bottom.

Any questions?  Want me to design one for your boat? (Click on the picture for a better size drawing)

Have Water, Will Wash aka I have deadlines, I'm not dead

 

  Evan and Maia pulled the boat into the Guaymas marina the day before they joined me in Tucson. We’ve been back for a few days, but we haven’t gotten around to pulling back out yet. For one, it’s cheap--at around $15 a day it’s not too huge a splurge. We’re also really taking advantage of the convenience of dock life to get stuff done.

Well, mostly Evan’s doing that. I’m so snowed under by deadlines that I’ve barely left my desk. And because I’ve been so scarce, for the second time while out cruising I’ve run into someone who thought I was a figment of Evan and Maia’s imagination—and didn’t actually exist. That’s a weird conversation to have with someone by the way…

 Anyway—we’ve acquired a lot of crap this year. I really don’t know where it came from, but we (meaning Evan) have been making our way through each locker and offloading stuff. Then he (yup, I'll admit it, I’m totally not involved) wipes down each locker and carefully repacks it with way less stuff.

Partly I think what happened is when we moved aboard our good intentions gave up on about day three of unpacking. Catamarans have big storage areas, and after a while it’s just easier to stuff them full of bits and pieces rather than making yet another decision about the value of yet another piece of rope, or which of the selection of kid’s lifejackets we own, we should keep…

 When we’re not (meaning Evan) cleaning lockers, we’re painting (I point out the flaws). We’re also installing a new water tank. After making five (and counting) attempts at making the newly rebuilt integral tank on the starboard side watertight, we decided to go with a fabricated plastic tank on the port side.

Evan assured me this would be a much simpler solution. So we’ll (meaning me) just ignore the fact the new tank is currently sitting on the dock leaking…

Don't Drink the Water

I have to write?  Couldn't this wait until Diane gets back?

It's common advice about visiting Mexico. Don't drink the water. In our case, it's the water in our tanks we're concerned about. Our water tanks are integral with the hull of the boat. With the bottom and sides of the tank there is no worries - the hull is all the fiberglass. But the top of the tank is plywood covered with fiberglass. 25 year old fiberglass. Which is now starting to rot (we see little chunks of wood fiber in our taps). So our latest boat project is replacing the rotting tank tops. Good thing we have a carbon filter on one tap to filter out the chunky bits.

We purchased a sheet of plywood in La Cruz, cut it to shape and gave it a quick coat of epoxy, prior to our passage to La Paz. That was a clever idea because it was a wet upwind ride for the plywood which lived on our foredeck for the trip. Now the 3 week old epoxy needs a sanding before we cover it with fiberglass tomorrow. (epoxy older than about 24 hours needs sanding to get the best bond before other layers are added).




Getting new eyeglasses and finding some fiberglass cloth was today's big errands. The glasses were easy, and were going to be ready in about 6 hours. For somebody used to the rather slow pace of Canadian eyewear that was a pleasant change. The fiberglass cloth took 3 tries before we found someplace with the right stuff.  But Maia and I did discover a place that sold 1 L smoothies that cooled us off after a lot of walking in the hot sun.

Ceilydh Under Construction

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

I first made this a while back (but updated it today). If you haven't been with us since the beginning of this journey, this is a 4 minute recap of the boats 'de' and 're' construction.

It turns out that 12.5 knots down wind is a bit too fast. The rhythm we had at 10 knots changed. The waves roared and splashed up over the stern and into our cockpit, the wimpy little auto-pilot became erratic and the boat got too noisy.
At 10 knots we could all relax. Maia could play with her dolls, Charlie the cat was content, Evan and I could read.
So we slowed down.

Unfinished

Despite the fan fare of leaving the dock and setting off for adventure, we have something to admit.
We're not finished.
If you ask almost any boat owner, you'll be told boats are never finished. That thing called a "to do list" stretches on forever, sort of like when you're trying to get a seven year old to do something that has the word 'work' in it. In our case it includes things that range from urgent, as in our safety and comfort require that we get to them.
To the wishful, and our wish list is too long to even go into that catagory...
But we know we'll never be done. I'm okay with this.

In fact, I've alway been haunted by a story about Webb Chiles. He wrote about how, after years of toil, he actually finished his to do list, went for a celebratory sail and his boat sank.

Later I learned the sinking was a suicide attempt. But it didn't matter. When I read about the sinking it reassured me that it was okay if we never finish, because if we did - all hell would break loose.
And who knows if having just one frozen head through hull could have kept Webb Chiles and his boat safe through his personal storm.

While I'm okay with the to do list needing attention, I do wish we were more finished before Evan became unemployed and we gave up our warm dry home (which just happened to have a flushing toilet because homes don't have through hulls that can freeze up and require the home to be hoisted out of the water for repair).
But we didn't.
So on day two of our glorious new life, we woke up early and drove the boat up onto the beach.
Which, if I were one of those insufferable catamaran owners who goes on, and on about how much faster, safer and more civilized a cat is than, say, a monohull, this would be reason number #34 on the list of why cats rock. But I'm not like that.But keep in mind that if we were a monohull, we'd be paying lots of money being hauled out in a boatyard. And given that Ev isn't so loose with the cash - we'd likely be without a flushing toilet for quite a while...

Our big boat on a quiet beach drew a few onlookers - even a helicopter came to check on us...
The eagle ignored us though. At least I think it was a juvenile eagle - anyone know?

After 3 days of hard labour (and the tiniest over-stressed freak out by me) the boat was ready for Maia's party...

It finally feels like a home. Could be because there is no scratchy fibreglass dust clinging to every surface. But I think it's because we were able to host 20 kids and their families and still feel sane at the end.

Honey, Maia's going away party is in 3 days you know?

yup, 3 days...