A few things have prevented me from Kudu related updates of late, and the root cause of my silence has been the curse of all aspiring escapists; work. Of course, I’m not complaining since not only do I enjoy my job, but the more work I have, the better I can financially prepare myself for the next offing. I’m still in the red from the last effort, but hopefully that’ll be rectified fairly soon.
Progress and exciting events haven’t been totally absent though, so I thought I’d take the opportunity on this quite bank holiday Sunday afternoon to write a little update.
Kudu is launched!
It turns out that I’m going to miss the entire season, but a few weeks ago in a desperate effort to get afloat I had Kudu lifted in to the water. I thought it would motivate me to work a little harder to get her finished to I can leave the docks and venture out, if only for a weekend around the river. I also wanted to try out my new rudder design.
The morning of the lift arrived, and I ran around like the proverbial headless chicken trying to finish last minute jobs off. Kudu would in no way be ready to go anywhere because the cabin was still littered with tool and materials. She had no 12v at all, but I had finished the hull repairs so she would at least float and regain some of her character. A boat on the hard is a lifeless soul, and it takes the addition of water under her keels before she displays a hint of character. I wanted my Kudu back, it had been too long since I was in her company.
The boat was dipped in the the water, and I climbed down the ladder in to the lock to check for any flooding. I wasn’t expecting any, of course, but it always pays to check for an unnoticed broken seacock or perished cockpit drain hose before the slings are released. Checks complete, I gave a thumbs up to the crane operator and he let out slack until I could unhitch the slings.
I gave the lock keeper a call on the phone and asked to go through. Within 15 minutes (I had to wait for the steam train who shares the swinging road bridge) I was on my way, and noticed the first problem. My new rudder design has ruined her handling!
I didn’t really make a massive change, but in an effort to combat the weather helm extended the balanced rudder aft by a few inches. This has made the helm feel very heavy and induces a stall from the rudder far too easily. Not to worry, I thought, I’ll sort that out over the winter. At least we were on the water again!
I moored up in her old spot, and set about enjoying the movement. Kudu was alive again and I was rather happy about it. I started poking around and thinking of ideas for the currently non-existent 12v install. The new 200ah AGM battery was in place in it’s newly built battery harness, but it was connected to nothing but the battery charger.
As I was rooting around under the companionway steps that house the battery, I noticed a wet dribble had ran down in to the bilges. The dry GRP hull had a tell tale trail of moisture heading down towards the bottom of the bilge. Kudu is a totally dry boat, with not even a hint of moisture in her bilges unless I’ve spilled something or left the hatch open in a downpour, so I began looking for the source of this wetness. I peered into the stowage space under the starboard quarter berth and found the problem. She was leaking! There was a small indent in the moulding, half an air bubble in the GRP that looked like it had been there since Kudu was first built all those years ago, but although it had been fine for decades, it had decided to start weeping now. The boat was in no danger, it really was a tiny trickle, but it was unstoppable no matter how much I tried to mop it up with kitchen towel.
There is something curiously motivating about water making its way in to your boat from the bottom. Even though I knew the boat was in no immediate danger, I felt quite startled. This is normal, it shouldn’t be happening. What if it develops in to a more serious leak? I need to sort it quickly. Run Nathan, run!
I sprinted along the pontoons and made my way to the marina building. Surprisingly, without fuss, I calmly explained my problem. “It’s not serious, but Kudu is sinking” I pronounced, before explaining the issue in detail. Steve Miller offered me a solution, he popped out to his car and handed me a tube of epoxy putty. It looks like a giant version of one of those red or green tube like sweets with a creamy white filling that you get charged a fortune for in the cinema. Application was simple: Wet your hands, break off a bit the size you need, then squish it up until its a uniform colour, before pressing it in to place. I did this, and it went off fairly quickly, thereby fixing the weeping ingress. Panic over.
Unfortunately, I had only fixed the leak from the inside, which means water is still working its way through the GRP hull up to the point of the repair. Not only is this bad news for the fibreglass, but I still had no idea why it was leaking in the first place. I decided Kudu needed to come out of the water again.
Epoxy putting in place
To the left of this picture is the begging of the aft end of the keel moulding. The leak, and thus repair, is on the inner after end of the starboard keel. My theory as to its cause is as follows. She’s been on the hard since about March and has seen a few guests on board during that time as we’ve had various parties around the marine. Up to three people have been on the boat, and all that weight has been resting on her bilge keels. I believe that the indent I found was an existing imperfection in the original moulding, a weak spot, which has opened up with all the flexing it would have undergone recently. There is no obvious damage to the outside, so I’m going to have to grind it back a little bit and check for problems, then repair as required. I’m not worried, I’m getting quite confident with GRP repairs.
A spark of life
I’ve already mentioned the battery installation, and I’ve since done a bit more work. The 61kg Lucas battery came with two carry handles bolted to the top of it. I’ve removed the handles, and utilised the flanges they were attached to fix a little wooden splash guard. The electrical installation is, through absolutely no choice in the matter, under the sink/taps. Obviously this is not ideal, so I decided a splash guard over the terminals would be a good idea. I’ve developed this idea to house the main battery isolator switch, and the shunt for the battery monitor.
I know what some of you are thinking. Having the electrics under the pressurised taps and sink outlet is just plain stupid. Well, perhaps, but as I’ve mentioned, I have no choice. I have further plans for a full on plastic spray screen that should protect the electrics from even a burst pipe, but ultimately, even if that fails, all I’ll lose is the 230v equipment. I can deal live with that. When I’m at sea, the water system won’t be pressurised, and 230v won’t be connected, so taking all this in to account, I’m comfortable with the install.
The Cosy Corribee
The final addition to this lengthy update is news of the start of my insulation project. Kudu has no insulation at all, not even headlining, and this means she gets cold. After last winter, I couldn’t stand another one in such conditions, so I decided to make effort to insulate her properly. Not only will this cut down on condensation (although that’s never been a serious problem), but it’ll keep the cabin warmer while at sea, and retain the heat while I’m plugged in on shore power. Hopefully I can chuck out the ridiculously expensive fan heater and replace it with an oil filled radiator.
I spent quite a long time thinking about the best way to insulate the boat, and looked at many materials for the job, but nearly everything I found was for domestic purposes and often far too thick. The corribee.org website, and Roger Taylor came to the rescue in the middle of this article.
Roger used Plastazote to line the hull of his junked rigged Corribee, and I decided to do the same. I placed an order with Thames valley supplies, and the sheets of nitrogen expanded foam were delivered a few days later. It’s not cheap, but the closed cell foam is not only an excellent insulator, but also provides added buoyancy in the event of a hull breach.
Roger lined his entire hull with 25mm Plastazote, but at £50 for a 2m x 1m sheet I decided against this. Price was not totally the deciding factor though, since 25mm foam seemed a little too thick. 12mm, on the other hand, was just the right thickness to sit in the spaces between the plywood strengthening that’s moulded in to the cabin roof. My order actually consisted of 4 sheets of 12mm foam (£25) and 1 sheet of 25mm. The 25mm foam was used to fill the void under the cockpit sole. It displaces 500kg of water, and will help towards the ultimate goal of making Kudu unsinkable.
The biggest problem I’ve found with this project so far is sourcing the glue. Evo Stick contact adhesive is readily available in pretty much every DIY store, but this sovent based adhesive is just far too volatile to use in a confined space. Trust me here, you can’t use it. Even with both hatches open the fumes quickly became way too much to bear. A stray spark could also be fatal.
Evo stick do make a solvent free impact adhesive, but I couldn’t find it for love nor money. I eventually managed to find it on Amazon.com of all places. See here for details (it’s actually the cheapest I could find too!)
The solvent free impact adhesive seems to be latex based, and although it takes 20 minutes or so to sure, it’s safe and bonds well, even to the fluffy lining that was an optional factory extra on my Corribee.
It has already made a big difference to the feel of the boat, and I’ve only done a third of the hull so far.
Winter plans
Given all of the above, I’ve resigned to the fact that this season is a total write off. Instead Kudu will stay ashore and I’ll finish her off properly ready for next year. I’ve made arrangements with Preston marina to construct a temporary shed over Kudu so I can work in all weather over the winter. This should greatly aid progress.
“It’s not serious, but Kudu is sinking”
Toooooooooo funny!
Seriously, really good to see you making progress again and that Kudu has touched the wet stuff again.
Keep up the good work dude!
Hi Nathan, If you have access to it, scuba gear is the answer to your fumey evo stick problem! I sometimes take a small cylinder and regulator and mask with me when I go sailing my old Seawych trailer sailer, no problems sorting fouled anchors etc.
Have fun and be safe.
Good update and lots of interesting info. Is the insulator very flexible or is it like fairly rigid polystyrene sheets.
I need to do similar with my Kingfisher 20.
Last year with snow on the deck I had woke every hour and had to put the cooker on for heat.
We do suffer with condensation big time.
old man, old boat
Plastazote is pretty flexible. It’s certainly not at all rigid, but you’d have trouble glueing it around a very tight corner since it quite springy. Fitting to the lines of the hull is no problem at all though.
“The 25mm foam was used to fill the void under the cockpit sole. It displaces 500kg of water, and will help towards the ultimate goal of making Kudu unsinkable.”
2m x 1m x 0.025m = 0.05m3 – doesn’t that displace 50kg of water? I’m no expert though, just wondering? If so all the above mentioned insulation put together would displace 146kg (which is still significant), minus a little bit because although it’s all closed-cell foam the cells right on the surface of the foam may be cut open.