Archive for the ‘Refitting the boat’ category

Another fine mess

February 17th, 2010

As I mentioned in the first blog post I ever made on here (here), I have owned a couple of “project boats” in my time. These seem to be boats that are perpetually in a state of “one day, soon, I hope” as they are passed around from dreamer to dreamer, usually via ebay. Indeed, these boats serve well as an analogy for the recent banking crisis; dead assets being sold from one gullible person to the next until finally some unlucky soul is the owner at the particular point in time where this polygamous dream shatters and departs their grip.

I’ve had two of these real-life financially contorting dreams, and I’m determined to not have another. I have, by now, gained enough experience to realise when something is a non starter, or at least I thought so. I’m beginning to have some doubts over Vreli.

When I bought her she was complete with the exception of the engine. All I had to do was source a cheap Yanmar gm10, and away we went. Sadly it’s never that simple, is it, because I don’t want to just sail around the local lake, I want to really push this lovely long keel hull, and myself to whatever limits I find. Not only that, but this is my residence. It’s all very well to  pretend you can live on your dream minimalist boat, but I’ve done it for the last two years and I’m telling you it’s just not sustainable to spend the rest of my twenties camping on the water. I want something more like a home, if only slightly.

An oven, oh how I’d love an oven. I miss roasted food, and pizza. Baked potatoes… with cheese! A cool box would be nice. Not even a fridge, just a small cool box for a  pint of milk and some baked spud glorifying cheese. Running water too, hot if I can stretch to it. I know how, and I have room. It’s ok to judge me for this, you can sit in your armchair after a weekend sailing on your fast cruiser and tell me I don’t need it, but imagine for a moment living entirely without these things. It is possible as I’ve demonstrated, but nice? No,  not forever. To be able to heat the boat without relying on shore power would be marvellous too. It would open up a whole world of destinations, and an extended cruising season.

On the foundation of these ideas, I set about redesigning the boat. The first important decision was the sea berths. Vreli had two quarter berths, one to Port and Starboard, and although it would be nice to have the option of either depending on the tack we were on, I couldn’t waste all that space for such a petty luxury. One of them had to go, and it turned out to be the Port side. I didn’t think it through beyond a mental check that I was still sane, I started ripping it all out. Feet first, that’s the way to do these things. As my friend at the marina says, “you’ll get nothing done by standing and looking at it.”

I’m glad I did start pulling bits apart, because I found a few problems. Namely, this boat appears to have been home finished, and it wasn’t done to the standard that I’m prepared to entrust my life too. I somewhat enthusiastically decided that I must replace ALL of the interior, and so I began to demolish more interior.

I have hacked, beaten, unscrewed, and snapped the interior joinery which now lays on the boatyard’s  scrap wood pile. A lot of it was poorly fitted and causing a good deal of wear to the inside of the GRP hull, and other bits seemed to be bonded with Hubba Bubba. My decision to replace the guts of the boat is sound, of that I’m sure, but I’m left with a numbing worry that the effort and expense required to complete this task may not be worth it. For now, the vee berth is still intact (I need somewhere to sleep), but everything aft of the main bulkhead is either unserviceable, or simply no longer there.

The first job is to build the port side, aft of the main bulkhead (under the mast). This consists of a seat, a chart table, and a space for a heater. Ignoring the cost of the marine ply (and I am using marine ply, not WBP), this is going to consist of (rough figures) £600 for a Sigmar 100 heater, £70 for a plinth fan heater, £210 for the 210ah battery under the chart table seat, and then a bit on top for finishing materials (paint, insulation, heat proofing etc). That’s one corner of the boat. On the other side, there’s the smev sink (£200), the Origo 6000 oven (£900), the starter battery, and plenty of other bits.

Forward of this lot is the vee berth, and while there’s no great expense there, it still needs rebuilding from bare hull. During all this I’m supposed to be staying on the boat, but after a bout of angle grinding in preparation to bond the bulkheads at the weekend, I’ve had to retreat citing dust storms on board.

Then there’s the starboard quarter berth, that needs replacing to in order to complete the woodwork since it is also causing abrasion to the hull. Then the electrics, I’ve got to wire the entire boat from scratch. Oh, and the engine. That’s going to cost between £1,000, and £3,000… and the calorifier, the water pump, the water tank, the instruments. I really may as well be built the boat from a bare hull. Indeed, I am, I’ve just got to make it bare first.

Once I’ve completed all that, I’m still only half way. The exterior needs tidying up, painting, some filling, new deck gear, sails, roller reefing, standing rigging, running rigging… the list again goes on, and I’m not sure if this will include spares yet. The boom at least is badly corroded in places. Good enough for day sailing, but not for where I’m going.

So I’m wondering, if I had a choice, and I don’t because I’m homeless without it, would this be the dream shattering moment of the fabled project boat, or maybe this is the fork in the road, the moment that defines the dreamers and the doers.

Thankfully, I suppose, I can’t give up. Mentally I think I’m just going to have to forget the finished project for now; it’s simply too far away to bear thinking about. Instead I’ll just concentrate on one job at a time. If I break the tasks down far enough then nothing will take more than a day to complete. I can deal with that sort of progress, because the alternative is getting a proper job, renting a house, and returning to the tedium from whence I came.

I think the biggest hurdle is getting past the ‘dirty’ jobs. The jobs that make living on here absolutely disgusting. The angle grinding of fibreglass and paint, the sawing of wood, the laying up of fresh GRP. The dust, the fumes, the general squalor in which I live. Once that’s gone, I’ll be much happier.

Vreli, the new boat

February 4th, 2010

I suppose I am once again long overdue an update. I just haven’t found myself the right mood to do one for a long time, but alas there is much to tell and so I must.

As I mentioned elsewhere, on Boxing day last year I travelled to Honiton in Devon to look at a new boat, a Tyler Boats Cinder. It’s a 22 foot long keel sloop, or in layman’s terms, it’s both slightly bigger and slightly better at sailing than Kudu. I bought the boat on the spot since there’s no point in biding your time with these decisions. Jump in feet first and grab the bull by the horns as middle management folk seem fond of saying. Just go for it. A donf!

There was no chance I could arrange to have the boat towed during the Christmas week, so I delayed it until after new years. That’s when the country was attacked by a brutal cold spell along with a generous helping of that frozen white water that grinds us softy Brits to a halt. Preston marina, in fact the entire dock, froze over solid with at least an inch of ice. In places it was 3″ thick. The boats, including Kudu, were frozen solid. My little fan heater struggled to keep me warm, but worse than my suffering was the delay. My transport man wouldn’t attempt to tow the boat from Devon to Lancashire while there were snow drifts around.

A couple of weeks ago, however, the weather settled for a while and myself and Nick Lancaster made a quick dash down to Honiton to pick Vreli up. Once back in Preston, I finally examined what I had bought, and felt disheartened.

She had been sat in a field for quite some time, and inside she was damp, and smelly. Her engine had long since been removed, and there was the pungent odour of diesel where it had leaked ever so slightly from the bunged fuel pipes. Since I had no shore power in her, she had no heat and was cold. She didn’t have the homely welcoming feel that Kudu had.

When I picked Kudu up I fell in love with her instantly. Maybe because it was the summer, maybe for some other reason, who knows, but I do know that Kudu made an instant impression upon me. She lit a spark that eventually led me to every blog post before this one. Vreli did not have that effect, and I felt disheartened by it. I wanted to love her, but I just didn’t.

Nevertheless, she was now mine and I would have to live with her, so I set about the first job; shore power. My intention was to fit entirely new equipment, and lacking that I jury rigged shore power by butchering  the Marinco cable from Kudu and connecting a double socket from Homebase. It was in no way a long term solution, but at least it allowed to to get some heat on the boat.

Vreli is an old boat, and she’s almost totally original. There was an old gas hob and grill fitted in to a disgusting looking galley from the 1970’s. That was removed on the first day. I intended to spend a night on her, but the smell and dampness eventually forced me to give up and seek refuge at a friends house.

A day later I was determined to complete my first night on board. I had to anyway since Kudu now had no heating. The smell had cleared up a lot, and the dampness almost entirely dry, but still she wasn’t ever so homely. Armed with a finest example of vin de table, I parked myself on the port quarter berth and poured a glass. Actually, that’s a romanticised lie. I don’t have glass on the boat, so I took a slug out of the bottle. Dead classy, I am.

I spent hours, quite literally, just staring at bits of the boat. To the onlooker, if there were any, I must have seemed quite strange and vacant, but my mind was flat out making plans. This is my boat and I need to make it suitable for my needs. I need a heater, where can it go? Hmm, what about the galley?

I was slowly painting a picture of what Vreli will look like when I’ve finished with her, and by doing that, I was growing quite fond of my new boat. She wasn’t that bad after all, there was almost standing headroom, and the vee berth with a fill-in up front was like having a double bed. That’s shear luxury in my world, I can tell you. Once I’d completed my plans, she would be a fine boat, and with the hull shape (my primary reason for buying her) I would be able to take her anywhere. Maybe we have a future together after all.

Unfortunately, there was a development in my professional life between buying the boat and taking delivery of it. My one and only client had to cut my hours down to 2 days per week. This means that where once I could have fitted out the entire galley in a weeks fee’s, I would now have to save for an entire month. Not to worry, these things never run to plan, do they.

So, here we are two weeks later, and I’ve totally removed the port quarter berth, ripped out the entire galley, and generally removed an awful lot of woodwork. The plan is to extend the wet locker bulkhead to create a space for a diesel or solid fuel heater, then use the space under the port cockpit seat as the new wet locker. The space between the two will make room for a proper seat and chart table, which is an exciting development I can tell you. To have a proper desk to work from will be bliss. Then there’s the engine, an inboard will allow me better power production to keep laptops running, and if I can get a suitable engine then I can run a calorifier for hot water. I just need to find a Yanmar GM10 now.

The galley is being totally rebuilt with the intention of having hot and cold running water (at least cold), and an oven. I don’t want gas on the boat so it will need to be either a Taylors parafin oven, or an Origo 6000. Unfortunately they are not cheap, so will have to wait. In the meantime, until I can find further progress, I’m staying on a yacht that is entirely stripped out apart from the forward vee berth, surrounded by tools and saw dust, and with no cooking facilities. The path to the perfect boat on a budget is not a comfortable one, I can assure you.

The laptop I’m typing this on doesn’t have the facility for me to transfer pictures from my phone, but as soon as I can, I’ll post some pics.

Harbour Chandlery

December 3rd, 2009

When I was in Wells-next-the-sea in Norfolk, earlier this year (that’s 2009 for people readig this in the future), I became good friends with the local Chandler. In fact, as I’ve mentioned in other posts, the experience I had at Wells was stunning. I left the little town with a handful of new friends, and have seen been back (by road) to see them all again.

When I was originally there with a broken boat and wallet, Rob, at Harbour Chandlery instantly jumped to the rescue. He didn’t expect a bean in return but ended up giving me all the help I needed, for free.

I felt I needed to replay that debt, and so I built him a website Harbour Chandlery.co.uk

It’s a basic site made to simply let the internet know that Harbour Chandlery exists and what they do, but I created it on the chart table of Kudu, which isn’t the best office space, I can tell you.

However, the debt still wasn’t paid in full, at least not to my mind, so when I got back on dry land, I set about building something a little more useful for him.

So, without further a do, I present the Harbour Chandlery online shop :)

Hopefully the friendly and truly honest approach to business I witnessed when I was in Wells will work well online, but without a doubt, it’s going to be a more personal experience than the other online chandlers.

Anyway, take a look. It is nearly Christmas, afterall :D

Rig for sale

September 8th, 2009

Kudu’s rig is for sale.

Apart from the gooseneck, which is an easy repair, it’s in good condition. The only reason I’m selling it is because I shall be getting a more substantial rig over the winter in preparation for the next adventure of Kudu.

The mast is, give or take an inch or two, 23 feet, and was on a tabernacle. The rig is currently without a boom, but I might be able to get that back.

Aside from that, it comes with all the rigging, lights etc, and plastimo roller furling on the forestay.

Open to offers.

Slowly but unsurely

June 23rd, 2009

 

Picture an old garden shed, filled to the point where the rickety door is an effort to close against the objection of that dusty lawnmower that wants to come out. Kudu is like that at the moment. The is turning into a major refit, a task that even the team on the bygone TV series, challenge Anneka, would have turned their nose at. There’s dust everwhere, and I have to shift loads of stuff into a pile somewhere, just to make room to sleep! 

I’m making steady progress, but I seem to be creating yet more jobs as I go along. Steve has finished my bow roller, and a mighty substantial piece of engineering that has turned out to be. I reckon I’ll be able to lift the boat on it once it’s fitted tomorrow.  He’s also kindly added an extra fixing point for another forestay since I plan on making Kudu a slutter rig for the Jester Challenge. This will enable me to run another forestay without the roller furling gear in order to hank on a storm jib.

The hole where the seacock was is almost finished. I’ve got 6 layers of 400gm CSM on the inside of the hole now. I’ve got to grind the outside and fill it tomorrow.

Rob closed his shop early and came down to help me fir the new masthead antenna, and run the cable down the mast which we did by joining the new cable to the old coax with mousing wire, then pulling it through. The bad news was that whoever fitted the old antenna, didn’t drill very big holes for it in the mast, so we had to drill the rivets out of the masthead fitting and remove the cap to get at it all. I need to re-rivet that tomorrow too.

I’ve also fitted the new masthead wind instrument, so the mast side of things has only a few hours of work left. I can get the stick back up then, and have some more room to work on the boat. I’m currently having to crawl in and out of the cabin without opening the hatch. It’s a bit of a contortion exercise.

The next big thing on the list is the instrument displays. They had been glued in place so I’ve completely destroyed them while getting them off. Im now left with a load more holes in the boat which will need filling, sanding and painting before I can add the new displays, because, as you’d expect, the Nasa Clipper range doesn’t fit the “Target” holes. No problem though, I’ll have that done soon enough, perhaps tomorrow too. I’ve totally removed the switch panel since I’m going to finish that off properly and make sure the wiring is finished off to a more professional spec. I don’t like fudges.

I met a cracking chap today too. Carl. He was at the cafe I’ve been getting an afternoon refreshing cup of tea at. He got some charts of the east coast and pointed out loads of places to anchor along the Humber and up the coast to Whitby. It was a big help, so thank you Carl.

The state of the boat is quite disheartening at the moment. I know it will start coming together soon, but it’s days off, and long days at that. On the bright side, when Kudu goes back in the water, she will be a good way towards being ready for the atlantic, and of course, much safer in coastal waters.

Still, you live and learn, and over the past few days I’ve learned a lot. Steve, today, showed me various welding methods, so I now know the difference between TIG and MIG welding, and I’ve been given a great deal of advice about structural repairs to GRP. I’ve done a reasonable amount of fiber glass work before, but it’s been nice, and indeed important, to be told that doing x, y and z, will make a safe repair, as opposed to just a repair that “looks” fixed.

Anyway, I have a few pictures, so let me show you the state of Kudu as of today.

 

Kudu on the hard at Wells harbour.

Kudu on the hard at Wells harbour.

 

Whoever fitted this, it's atrocious! 1mm aluminum taking the load of the entire rig, as well as the anchor.

Whoever fitted this, it's atrocious! 1mm aluminum taking the load of the entire rig, as well as the anchor.

 

Steve with the bow roller on the bench, ready for welding.

Steve with the bow roller on the bench, ready for welding.

 

Here's where the switch panel and instruments were, and the wiring loom in my hand.

Here's where the switch panel and instruments were, and the wiring loom in my hand.

Yay!

June 22nd, 2009

I finally got to repay some of the debt I owe to the good people of the British coast.

I’d been to get some food in town, and as I was walking home saw a fisherman on the quay. I went and had a chat with him, since I’d bought some bloodworm with the intention of trying it myself if I got the chance. I asked him what he was fishing on, and his reply was “you don’t want to know. I didn’t have any bait so my wife suggested sausage roll. I’ve been fishing since I was 5 years old, but thought I’d give it a go anyway out of desperation”. I laughed, carried on chatting for a while then said my goodbyes.

I walked a quarter mile back to Kudu in the boatyard, then thought, well, why not. I grabbed my bag of bloodworm, and walked the qaurter mile back down the road. I caught the chap just as he was about to cast some bacon (??), and gave him the bloodworm. He was as happy as they come.

I’m quite happy with myself. Only 6,003 favours left to repay! :)

Also, good news, I’ve done a shed load, or rather, boat load, of work on Kudu today. The removed sea cock has been filled with 6 layers of 400gm CSM, the mast came down, thanks to the help of Rob, the chandler, and his mate, who I think was called John. He actually got somebody to come into his shop and takeover for an hour just so he could come and help me!

Steve is making good progress with the new stainless bow roller after I removed that and gave it too him this morning, and my Nasa marine intruments arrived. Nasa Marine kindly offered my a hefty discount upon hearing what I was doing. not from me, I might, add, so a big thankyou to Michael for contacting them on my behalf, before ringing me up and telling me the grat news.

Oh, I also started work on finishing my stern locker lid. I had made a new one out of GRP while in St Kat’s, but never finished it. I gave it a good clean with a cup full of acetone that a nearby workman offered me, then laid up some fresh woven fibre. It’s now ready for finshing, tomorrow.

I’ve got to apply some west system epoxy to the cracks that were around the pushpit too. I have ground it out with a chisel, and then the drill with a grinding stone. I need to do the same to the crack in the stem.

Oh Kiss works Steve has also fixed my tiller stock. It was loose from wear over the years, but after a bit of machining, it’s as tight as you like.

In all, I’ve still got a lot of work to do, but it’s getting there, and when Kudu goes back in the water, she’ll be one of the most solid Corribee’s around.

I have power back

June 21st, 2009

There is an electricity supply here in the boat yard, but the socket are standard household plugs, and I didn’t have anyway of plugging in my shore power cable. I’ve made do for two nights now, but needed the power today to run tools. I was pondering on how to do it on the cheap, then remember that I still had a small tail of cable and the plug from the shore power lead I bought and butchered to fit the Marinco plug. I went to the local hardware shop and bought a plug for 99p, wired it to the tail that was sitting happily in my stern locker, and plugged it all in.

My new adaptor works perfectly, all for 99p.

Jobs a goodun. Right, now I have to do some scary things with a drill and my keel!

And relax.. almost

April 30th, 2009

I calmed down after my little stress the other day. A good sleep sorted me out and I attacked the solar panel problem with a fresh head in the morning, which resulted in…

 

Solar Panel on my Corribee

Solar Panel on my Corribee

I’ve only fitted one of the two panels, but it’ll be enough to keep the nav gear running for a few days, and when I get to the River Crouch, fitting it’s brother will keep me occupied for an afternoon. I’ve tested it and it’s charging the battery well, or at least, it was yesterday before the cloud arrived :)

The outboard issue is still causing much concern though. I’ve spoken to the engineer this morning and he said he’s still working on it. Having bought a brand new engine and it still being broken 8 months later is a bit of a record I think. Mailspeed should win a prize!

I’ve got to ring the chap at lunch time to see if it’s done, and then get the train to Southend, in Essex, to pick it up. I’m worried about lugging the thing back on the train since it’s very, very heavy to walk distance with, and I’m not sure they’ll be too happy with me being on the train with a stinky outboard smelling of fuel. I have no choice though, so I’ll just have to deal with it. Of course, if it doesn’t get fixed I’m going to have to try and locate another engine from somewhere, which will be fun with a non existent budget and one day left. The joy!

Apart from that I’ve given the boat a tidy and stowed most of my liveaboard clutter, I’ve got some final tidying to do today, and then we’re all set for sea.

Nerves are kicking in now too.

I'm in a vile mood

April 28th, 2009

Problems problems everywhere, and not the patience to effing care.

Solar panels

Nothing on a boat is standard. There’s nothing you can go and buy and just fit, it all needs some sort of custom fabrication because nothing on a boat is standard.

Take my solar panels, for example, I’ve just spent ALL day looking for bits to fit them to the pushpit (the rails on the back of my boat). I finally came up with a plan and bought some aluminum strips from B&Q, I intended to bolt those to the existing mounting holes on the solar cell, and then through the middle of the ali strip, use two U bolts to clamp it to the pushpit. This will work, and almost did. I’ve spent the evening cutting and drilling, and messing about with very fiddley little screws and nuts. I had to cut down the U bolts, which cost me £14.50 each (!!!!). I cut the thread with the nuts on, then undid them to straighten out the thread. When I went to attach it all, I discovered that the nuts won’t go back on. No amount of trying will get them on since the thread is munged. That’s £29 down the toilet so far.

Engine

That’s not my only worry though. Yet again the diabolical service I’ve been getting from Mailspeed marine is prevailing. Having given them my engine in FEBRUARY for a warranty job after the big end bearings went within two days use (that was in september last year), they have yet to fix it. I have to constantly ring them since they never ever ring me, and the latest news is that it might be done by Thursday. I have to ring them up to find out if indeed it has been. If not. I’m absolutely screwed because I can’t move my boat and I’m booked ot lock out of St Kat’s on saturday.

On the bright side, I’ve adopted a suggestion from Dylan Winter to get my genoa sheets working. I’ve used a pulley system and cam cleat, in the temporary absence of winches. The boat can now sail… although I can’t get it out of the Thames without an engine.

I’m quite upset about those U bolts though. I can’t afford to throw away £30 like that, and I still have no idea how I’m going to get these bastard solar cells attached to the push pit. And Mailspeed!! God dammit, they have THE worst customer service I have ever encountered. They did the same to me with an order at the boat show. Took three weeks of phone calls with them not once returning a promised call to tell me where my order was. In the end they told me the order had been sent, only to ring me up a few days later to confirm the postal address!!!

Right, Ralph Vaughn Williams and a bottle of wine time, before I blow up.

We're all in limbo

February 25th, 2009

I am still determined to leave personal diatribe out of this blog, I do enough of that nonsense on Facebook afterall, but in this particular case it’s very much connected with my plans for Kudu, so I thought I would issue a little update on where we’re at.

A couple of weeks ago I resigned from my job at TradeDoubler, for reasons which will remain constrained to my rantings in the pub, but this has put a small kink in my plans for the Jester. It is no doubt ultimately a positive thing, but it does present a few fresh challenges.

Before two weeks ago my only concern was time. I had a steady stream of money coming in and could fund all the work required, but I didn’t really have the time to carry it out. Between accumulating all the sailing experience I possibly can this year, while also performing some fairly extensive refitting to Kudu, I was pushing the limits of my annual leave allowance at work. This situation has now done something of a U turn and I have all the time I need, but no funds to do it.

I have renewed my mooring so I have three months left in London. Hopefully I can get some contract work during that time and leave London for the summer with some cash behind me. This would be the ideal scenario since I’d then have both the time and the money to carry out all the work required… also the weather since Winter does make me procrastinate so. :)

That said, I have been working for nine years now and haven’t had a proper holiday for a very long time – all my holiday last year was spent traveling up North to work on Kudu whenever possible – so I think I’m about due a couple of weeks off. My final day at work is the 6th March, so I’m going to spend the remainder of the month finishing the jobs I’ve accumulated over the winter; fit new Harken winches (thanks boatshow!), fit the Eberspacher (just in time for summer), and finish the repair to the stern locker.

That’s the plan anyway. My ideal March, dotted with days of relaxing and tinkering with the boat at my leisure. The sobering reality is I’m not exactly sat on a huge pile of cash so I expect I’m going to be getting quite nervous towards the end of the month so you could see some drastic action from the adventures of Kudu. Come April I might weigh anchor and sail off into the sunrise with my last thousand quid, chasing the wake of Shrimpy… if only. :D