Itchyglass

But first, a few winter adventures from our recent two-foot storm. From my coffee chair this morning: the sodium streetlight glowing pink in the pre-dawn twilight.

Coming down from the mountain yesterday I and four other hapless drivers discovered that the wide blade of the snowplow makes the road seem wider than it is. The outer three feet or so are are actually a mirage--flat cindery snow that looks like roadway but is actually a three-foot deep ditch filled with dirty snow. My first time stuck in a Previa in twenty years of driving it in snow and ice. The nice fellow in the black truck, after pulling himself into the ditch trying to rescue me and being rescued by his dad, finally pulled me and two others out.

Timid avalanche in training, easing itself off the shop roof.

And making upside-down icicles.

Okay, back to work. Here is a very professional method for squeezing the sides of an oar-slot into place while the epoxy kicks. Mash it full of wedges and pile heavy lead ducks on them. It actually worked.

Meanwhile the night crew presses onward, fiberglassing all the seams and gutters. Have I mentioned I hate fiberglassing?

And tonight, Janel and I sanding it all smooth. Ick. Itch.

Boat School alert!

Just a reminder for those of you that were wanting to come back to Maine for the McKenzie boat building class: registration opened Monday morning. The course is now about half full. So if you are thinking of joining us, think now and think hard! Click here and see you there--

WoodenBoat School

Or here:

The McKenzie Dory

Can't decide? Here are a few scenes from some of my past summers there:

Boat guru Greg Rössel hard at work.

 My friend Wick (in green shirt) and his new Greenland kayak.

End of the week in the lofting room

My favorite boat to row, Wild Rose, an adorable dory.

Teaching myself the arcane art of sculling.

And feeling pretty damned nautical. Even my hair is crazy about boat school.

The sea turns to pewter sometimes.

The Friday night lobster and mussel feed down by the waterfront. The weekly belly burst.

The sweet Maine sunsets. The place is so addictive. Mmmm. Come on down east.

All decked out

I've had a couple of days of obscure framing to do while overseeing the gang discover the joys of spiling. Justin, Zasha, and Janek all got to cut some pretty zany decking pieces, pretty darned accurately.

The view from the oh-so-cold stairwell.

Shooting in screws from above and below.

A mighty peculiar board goes in.

Janek in the rear cross hatch.

Side hatches coming together.

Annnddddd... she's decked.

May have to slow down a bit. Big snow coming, skiing to be done.

Days of glory, revenge of the boat

You gotta love those glory days, like the hull assembly on New Years Eve. And, after a recovery day, another day of amazing progress: We got the bottom on yesterday, then rolled it and were able to get all the bracing in for the decks. 

And then there's days like today, when one stupid stick will cost hours of confusion and frustration. I guess we had it coming. A lot of staring, walking in circles, back-tracking, and muttering. By the end of the day we muscled through and were able to get most of the hatch framing in.

 In another day or two we get to spile in the decking--now that's fun.

Harry Bryan tool workshop

I am delighted and excited to announce that hand-tool guru Harry Bryan will be in town April 11. He and Martha are touring the west, and yesterday Harry agreed to put on an afternoon workshop at Fretwater Boatworks.

For those of you who have not followed Harry's career, he is an off-the-grid boatbuilder in New Brunswick with an unusual love for hand tools. He often writes articles in WoodenBoat Magazine, sometimes reviewing tools, talking about how to restore tools, and how to make your own hand tools.

I took his course in making tools a couple years ago, and like so many of the courses I have taken at WoodenBoat School, the day in the shop does not pass that I am not using some tidbit or technique that I picked up from Harry. My chisels are sharp. My planes actually work. I use them a lot, even when the power tools are nearby.

That course was five days long, and we have but an afternoon. So we are thinking of focussing on a few sharp tools: chisels, planes, and saws. How to use them, what they're for, how to sharpen them and keep them sharp, what to look for when acquiring them. You will be amazed at Harry's comprehensive knowledge and how useful what you pick up from him will be every time you're using hand tools.

I will update this as details develop. We should probably keep the class down to about a dozen. We'll be asking for a donation for Harry's time and expertise.

Here is Harry with his favorite hand-powered chisel sharpener. His very cool drill press is in the foreground.

Harry's forge, made from plumbing parts, a brake drum, and a hot-wired hair drier.

The Omo is born

We started out early yesterday, getting a few parts ready for the assembly. Janek's scarf of the half-inch floor came out beautifully.

Justin is laying out the bulkheads, which I like to install in the ribs prior to assembly. It is much easier than retro-fitting them, and it helps greatly to keep the ribs in their proper shape during the stressful assembly process.

Zasha and Janek caulked and screwed the bulkheads into place.

We started the assembly at 2:20 in the afternoon. Unfortunately I was so busy running around and shouting that I didn't take a single picture until 7:30 when, all of a sudden, everyone dematerialized.
But we are ready to screw the floor on tomorrow. All in all I am pretty delighted with the build.

Ready to party

My ongoing search for the slickest way to cut a perfect 8:1 bevel for a plywood scarf has gone decidedly retro. I've used routers, circulated saws, power planers, and belt sanders, all of which make a horrendous amount of noise and debris and all of which work...okay. But today it's back to a hand plane—Bruce's mom's Stanley No. 7 Smoothing Plane. It's not as quick as a power planer, but there's virtually no set-up time, and you can stop short of screwing things up a lot easier. I think these are the best, most precise bevels we've done yet. Go figure.

And I am still using my Luddite clamping technique, pounding wedges to get even pressure on the joint while the epoxy cures.

They are sure coming out nicely.

Meanwhile I have finally deduced that the reason many of us Briggs boat replicaters are having a tough time getting the angle of the bow post correct, is that it is not an angle. It is a rolling bevel—45° at the base, 52° at the top. That's what we cut for Bob and it worked magnificently. So here we go again.

I took yesterday off work to head to the big hardwood store in Phoenix with my friend Dan. We spent a lot of money, but have enough nice, straight-grained wood for a few more boats. And my bunk of marine plywood arrived as well. Let's cut it to bits.

Chelsea is oiling up the ribs for tomorrow's assembly.

 Janek is wiping the oil back off.

Cataract has come down from the loft to act as a form for the steamed chines and gunwales for Omo.

Janek and Justin are pounding wedges on the floor scarf joint.

And finally we are mapping out the side panels from the sacred scroll.

And drilling countless holes in them.

Tomorrow we should go from sticks to a sexy hull. Fingers crossed.