Backyard boatyard project calls for a “small person”
Issue 39 : Nov/Dec 2004
Not since my early adolescence, when I last looked back with regret on the petite section of the department store, have I seen myself as a “small person.” I’ve been full-grown since the sixth grade, and that means practically 5 feet, 9 inches (although I may have shrunk a bit lately).
So I was amused when our latest boatyard project required a small person, and — in a field consisting of just the two of us — I was selected. I’ve noted for years the occasional need on good old boats for a mouse or a child with 5-foot arms. It was my turn to sympathize with those who have written articles about requiring such assistance in the past.
No, our boatyard project wasn’t in the engine compartment or the buried steering gear or fuel tank, where many face the limitations of space in vessels that were built with tanks, equipment, and furniture first . . . decks last.
Our project involved strengthening the hull-to-deck joint of our trailerable project boat. With all the furniture removed, parts of this job were fairly accessible inside the wide middle section of the boat. The project called for epoxy with filler, then a 2-inch strip of fiberglass wetted out with epoxy, followed by a 3-inch strip of fiberglass wetted out with epoxy, followed by a 4-inch strip of fiberglass wetted out with epoxy . . . you get the picture.
All the way . . .
The trouble with the hull-to-deck joint is that it runs all the way from the bow to the transom. And the aft section of our trailerable Mega 30 disappears into two quarter berths and continues aft beyond them. Quarter berths are meant for inserting your body carefully, feet-first. They are beneath the cockpit seats, you may recall, and are not meant for any activity beyond sleeping. (If you have accomplished anything else in one, don’t send a letter to the editor telling me so. This is a family publication!)
At any rate, I did manage to tape and paint and tape and paint in a very small space on beyond the foot of the quarter berth and all the way to the transom. While my previous experience with hull-to-deck joints consisted of knowing where to place the hyphens, my appreciation for a well-constructed boat has grown immeasurably since I crawled out of the quarter berths for the final time.
Another boatyard job, requiring less skill but more endurance (and fortunately size doesn’t matter), has been the removal of all the non-skid on the deck in preparation for new non-skid and painting the deck. This project was inspired by spongy core around the foredeck hatch. Jerry repaired the delamination, and I followed behind with a sander so the entire deck can be painted when the repair is covered up.
While sanding the deck smooth, I had many hours to contemplate the joys and responsibilities of sailboat ownership, particularly of a boat manufactured 10, 20, or more years ago. Bringing a boat back to good-as-new condition is not easy. But the rewards are somehow sweeter once you’re sailing again.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
