Bungs

This weekend Mariah finally got relaunched after sitting on the hard for two weeks. We thought we only had to replace the stuffing box, but complications ended up making us pay the yard to replace the entire propeller shaft, stuffing box, and cutlass bearing. Mariah does have a nice new coat of bottom paint now, so she should be nice and fast when I finally find time to sail her.

Randy has put two of the new Yellow Cedar planks on, so I got to fill in the screw holes with "bungs" (little round chunks of wood). Filling in screw holes is a necessary activity because the screws will corrode and the surrounding wood will rot if they are left exposed to the elements. Also, having a bunch of little holes in the side of the boat would just look ugly.

Putting bungs in a plank involves several steps, the first of which is dipping the bungs in epoxy glue. This is a rather unpleasant part because epoxy is highly toxic (or carcinogenic, or something), and you really don't want to get it on your hands. You have to wear rubber gloves, which feel disgusting. The second step is to put the bung in the screw hole. That part is pretty self-explanatory. The third step is to hammer the bungs into the holes. This sounds simple, but it takes some finesse to hit the bungs hard enough to go all the way in, but not so hard that they split or shatter. The final step is wiping up the epoxy drips, which also involves rubber gloves, and is therefore also rather disgusting. Luckily, the feeling of accomplishment from filling in a few hundred little holes outweighs the unpleasantness of rubber gloves, so putting in bungs ends up being kind of fun.

New Planks

Step One: Find the screw holes.

Step Two: Dip pre-cut Bungs in epoxy glue,
then stick them in the holes.

Step Three: Hammer the bungs into their holes.
This is what a bung looks like after it's been hammered.

Reconstruction and Flying Sailboats

           Misogi has been slowly going back together. Randy has put all of the frames, decking, and a plank back in the rotten corner of my parents' bedroom; and frames have been cleaned, scraped and CPES'd. One of my projects, which I'm quite proud of, was putting a dutchman in one of the frames. A dutchman is a little (or sometimes large) chunk of wood that is glued into a hole in a larger piece of wood where damaged material has been removed. The spot where I put my dutchman is the frame on the port side where the boarding door attaches to. The screws for the door's hinge had left so many holes in the wood that the top of the frame had to be removed, so I cut away the damaged wood with a dremel and soaked it in epoxy. Next, I cut out the dutchman. This took several hours of trial and error because the piece had to fit precisely and my wood-cutting skills leave something to be desired. Eventually, the piece was cut and my dad and I brushed it with thickened epoxy and glued it into it's hole. Hopefully, It will be just as strong as the original frame. 

         Anther project tackled today was hauling out Mariah. She hasn't had her bottom painted in a few years, so it was definitely time. Unfortunately, the haul-out wasn't as straight forward as I thought it was going to be. I had to get the genoa off of the roller furler (the yard won't haul with the sail attached), and that took a good 30 minutes of trying to untie ancient knots and plenty of cursing. When Mariah was finally ready to go, we found out that her cantankerous little diesel was barely strong enough to push the boat into the 20 knt headwind. I had the engine at it's maximum safe RPM's, and we were still making only about half a knt of headway against the wind. It took us much longer to get to the lift than I had expected. Luckily, the actual lifting bit went off without a hitch and Mariah is now safely on the hard. 

My Dutchman

Randy's Rebuilt Corner

Flying Mariah!

Turning Point

          One of the unfortunate side-effects of spring is the seagulls' nesting season. As beautiful and interesting as these birds are, they can be a bit of a nuisance. They tend to build their nests on top of warehouses and boathouses (especially Misogi's), and cover anyone and anything within a 100' radius of the boathouse with a stinking white layer of feces. Mariah, my sailboat, happens to be docked right next to a row of boathouses, so I moved her over to Misogi's future slip on the "liveaboard dock." She looks a bit out of place next to all the towering yachts and massive fishing boats, but now I don't have to clean poop off of her twice a week. 

          We've finally reached the end of the deconstruction phase on Misogi's port side. It is, in theory, as torn apart as it's going to get, and we should be able to clean up the frames and start putting everything back together this week. One of things I've learned about our boat during this project is how strongly built it is. The frames are fastened to each other with massive 1/4" diameter bolts, the planks are made of incredibly dense and hard wood, and huge (14" by 4") solid mahogany beams run the length of the boat under the decks. I've looked at the structural bits of several newer fiberglass boats, and Misogi seems many times stronger than any of them. Well, her non-rotten bits anyway. 

My Parents' Bedroom Wall

Not Much Boat Left...

Mariah