It is a very handy thing to have a good relationship with your local chandlers.

I’ve just borrowed various bronze fittings to see if I can make up a solution to my bilge pump issue. If it’s workable, I buy what I need.

So, here it is…

So, in theory it’s ok but there are three problems.

• I don’t like all that heavy metal clinging on to the seacock. It just seems like a poor job.
• It creates a loop, so I’d need to fit non-return valves on each outlet to prevent pump straight back in to the bilges.
• To get the various fittings lines up, I can’t tighten them fully. I’m not plumber, but I’m guessing PTFE tape will sort this problem out?

What’s the verdict? I’m not ever so convinced. I might have a go at arc welding two bits of pipe together to make a much lighter t-piece out of stainless. I’ve still got the loop issue though, and no matter what solution I go for I think I’m going to need the non return valves.

The standard gimbals for the Origo Stoves are a bit naff and despite costing over £60, are not much good for mounting the stove in a small boat. They seem to have been designed to mount the Origo 3000 in place of  a full size oven. Since I imagine people buying the Origo 1500, or 3000 will not have the space for a full size oven, I really think Origo should offer a more suitable option to their customers. Perhaps I’m wrong; feedback appreciate.

Anyway, I decided I could do a better job, so set about butchering the £60 gimbals with an angle grinder, and making my own with the addition of a bit of Sapele.

Here you can see the two gimbals.

One side mounted in place using five screws.

And the finished job.

I’ve also started making the new companionway step, which also serves as a cover for the sink. It was cut out of 18mm marine ply.

And I came up with a nifty little design for it. The mixer tap you can see in the picture above, tends to drip a little. It’s not because of any leak per se, but as the water that remains in the tap neck dribbles out after switching the tap off. Also, I wanted to have some protection just in case it it got kicked on by accident, so I came up with this…

This is obviously not finished, but it will be smoothed off, and a hole drilled in the bottom of the “pit”, which then allows any stray water to run along a small routed conduit underneath the step, and drip harmlessly in to the sink.

It’s just a small touch, but worth doing I felt.

Two posts in one night!

I’ve got quite a lot done this evening, but the most exciting bit (at least for me) is that I glued the final piece of plastazote to the hull.

I’ve also replaced the ply trimmings in the boat. I used some rubber backed carpet tiles to finish them off, and the boat is looking altogether much more complete than she has been of late.

Here’s a good shot for showing what I’ve done. On the left you can see the Plastazote insulation, and on the right the carpet tile that’s gone on top of it. Since the boat came out of the factory at Newbridge, the chain plate backing pieces have been covered in a layer of GRP, which I’ve cut away to expose the bolts. I did this in case I needed access to them for any reason. The insulation was then placed on each side of it, and the carpet tile was cut for a tight fit so that it needed no bonding in place. This means I can quickly remove it to get at the bolts. I can’t see me needing too, but I thought it sensible to have the option.

And finally, the finished job.

Obviously I have yet to carpet the hull, but I’m still trying to work out which carpet is best to use.

I’ve been making pretty good progress on Kudu of late. The ongoing insulation project seems to be taking forever, but slowly, a bit per night, I’m getting the Plastazote stuck to the hull. It takes forever in these winter temperatures since I have to measure the area, cut the foam, offer it up, then trim as required (usually for protruding bolts), apply the water based impact adhesive to both hull and foam (a terribly messy job) then sit for half an hour with a hair dryer before it’s set and ready to bond the two pieces.

Nevertheless, I’ve almost grown to enjoy it. At least it’s a job a can do inside, and with the hair dryer going it’s lovely and warm.

The ‘outside’ jobs are being put off until the better weather arrives. I’m determined to get the boat back in the water during some point in March, so I’m hoping that there’s a decent patch of weather towards the beginning of it. Not just because working around zero degrees takes an awful lot of motivation, but because the jobs I need to do require a fair amount of epoxy work in areas that are structurally very important, so I don’t want to force the job in epoxy unfriendly temperatures.

There are a lot of little jobs left to do, but I can do them once the boat is back in the water if I have too. The things I can’t do is build my new rudder (properly for MK3), fit the Lewmar forehatch, and potentially rework the companionway in to a watertight hatch.

It’s just this weather and these short days. I do hate winter.

On the bright side, I’ve been reading an awful lot recently. I was lent “The Worlds greatest Sea Disasters“, which was published in 1969 and contains some harrowing stories spanning from the days of the East India Company, to modern (then) times. It might seem a rather morbid thing to read given my seagoing aspirations, but I’m of the opinion that if you learn as much as possible about how things have gone wrong in the past, you’re more likely to avoid the same fate yourself. That said, I don’t think Kudu will be encountering any icebergs of (prematurely) exploding black powder destined for India.

I’ve also got half way through Salamander Dreaming, which is a wonderfully lightweight and entertaining read about a couple selling their house in the 70’s, buying an old trawler and with their young children and a few equally amateur crew setting off to find a new life afloat, which the obvious problems along the way (well, it wouldn’t have been much of a book otherwise, would it). Apparently, so it says at the start of the book, the boat they bought was one of the Radio Caroline boats, but given that it was 96ft, and the smallest Radio Caroline boat was, if I remember correct, about 130ft, I think this is a bit of a porky. Still, maybe it will explain things in pages to come. I want to know what happened to their “go-go dancer” crew member. Actually, I want to see a picture of her… only to see what a “go-go dancer” is. Presumably a 70’s thing.