Restoring Reverie

: The Art of Restoring & Sailing a Classic Wooden Sailboat

Tag Archives: deck beams


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Into The Light

The new year is upon us and it’s finally starting to look like January here along the Lake Michigan shoreline.  We had an unseasonably warm December due to the El Niño-Southern Oscillation (ENSO) cycle.

   http://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/ninonina.html

As avid cross country skiers, we were somewhat disappointed by the lack of snow.  As boat restorers, we took advantage of the mild weather to further the cause and get as much done on Reverie as possible before Winter set in.  Fortunately, we tempered these hours of work with some Grade-A, late season sailing aboard Prudence.  

Winter weather has now arrived and we got down near the single digits Fahrenheit last night.  Lake Effect snow has been quietly dusting us and the ground is now covered in white. Last week, we put a tarp over Prudence and brought her outboard in from the cold; time to replace that old water pump impeller I’ve been putting off all season.

Whenever there’s good news and bad news to be communicated, I prefer to have the bad news delivered first.  Candy coating something before the medicine does not help the medicine go down “in the most delightful way”.    Prepare yourself.  Gird your loins.  Here it comes.

If you have been following this blog, you have ascertained we are removing the entire deck of Reverie to get at the rotted deck beams and carlines.  I have no doubt in my mind that this decision was indeed, the best tack. It will also facilitate the replacement of broken frames.  The port-side tongue and groove decking has been carefully removed, labelled and toted off to storage. It proved to be a bit of a task seeing that many of the strips are in excess of twenty feet.  The port-side deck beams are now visible, as are the  areas aft near the cockpit and transom that get little ventilation.

The entire port-side sheer clamp is now visible and there is evident damage amidship.  The sheer clamp is a structural  member that runs stem to stern and serves to support the deck beams and provide resistance to the torsional twisting of the hull.  It is bolted along the inside of the hull at the frames and the deck beams are half-dovetailed into it.  It appears to be made of cypress wood; a good choice considering the need for a light, strong,  rot resistant wood.   I thought of white oak as an alternative for replacement yet was convinced otherwise after researching the weight difference between the two.  Had we gone with oak, there would be another 300 lbs. added to the sheer.

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The port-side sheer clamp showing evident signs of rot amidship.

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A closeup of the rot on the port-side sheer clamp.

Once the port-side deck was removed, it became time to prep the starboard-side deck for removal.  Julia began the monotonous chore of removing all the bungs from the toe rail in order to get at the 4 inch bronze screws holding it down every 6 inches.  While she did that, I worked on the deck hardware.  I removed the starboard winch, cleats, anchor chocks, spinnaker pole chocks and, with Julia’s help, the stanchion bases.

The stanchion bases are particularly hard to get at as they are fastened between the sheer clamp and the sheer plank.  Inside the cabin, it was a tight squeeze but in the cockpit, it seemed nigh impossible.  I had to lie on my back and reach through one of the cuddy holes in the cockpit with my arm fully extended all the while attempting to reach the nut I couldn’t see with a deep socket  and extension.  This maneuver was what I imagine it would be like wearing a blindfold while trying to steal a bag of chips from the top row of a vending machine by reaching up through the discharge bin.  While I attempted this feat of derring-do, Julia waited  patiently on the ladder ready to unscrew the fastener once I found the nut.

Lying on my back, in this twisted state, up became down and down became up.  I fished around here and there but could not find the nut to the stanchion base.  I rolled the socket wrench into the small of my hand hoping for some tactile reassurance that this wasn’t all a bad, painful dream and that I would eventually find the nut and bolt that were obviously eluding me.  I extended my forefinger here and there and suddenly, it felt as if I had stuck it clean through some wood!  “…all part of this bad dream”, I thought.  “Just relax.  Embrace the pain.  Find the bolt.”

My eyes were closed.  They were useless in this endeavor. All sensory input was being conveyed through an arm bent into positions it was never meant to be in yet, there it was: the sensation that I had my finger stuck clean through a piece of wood. I wriggled my forefinger around.   It was as if it was stuck through a hole in a sock; a 5/4 inch thick rotted sock.  I felt air on the other side.  Was my finger sticking through the sheer plank and the world outside?  “No”, Julia assured me.  “I can’t see your finger.”  Then, the truth set in.  I had stuck my finger through the rotten starboard-side sheer clamp!

I writhed about like a crocodile being swallowed by a python,  still unable to find the damn bolts. I began to see a shining light through my closed eyes.  I heard a voice beckoning me.  “Come to the light!”   I reached out, with my contorted arm, and touched the stanchion bolt I so desperately sought.  I focused, careful not to let this moment slip away.  I got the socket on the nut.  Julia unscrewed it from above.

Bolt number two was right next to a frame but now that my arm was a bent pipe cleaner, I got the socket onto it, as well.  The two other bolts to the stanchion base were screwed through the deck and into the sheer clamp.  The cause of the rot, perhaps?  They pulled out without even needing to be unscrewed.  The stanchion base was finally liberated from the covering board.  It then took several minutes to extract my now serpentine arm from the labyrinth while I relived the pain of a long-ago separated shoulder.  Why did I ever think rollerblading was a good idea?

The outcome of these travails are the issues with the starboard-side sheer clamp that will be come into focus as work progresses.  It was  reminder that there is more than meets the eye in our little project.  We’re certainly not out of the woods with these hidden issues.  “… two steps back.”  I’m glad we found this out before Winter set in.   It gives us time to plot out the next course of action. These sheer clamps must be addressed before the deck beam work can start.   I guess that big slab of white oak we have will have to wait a bit before it’s sawn into deck beams.  Time to start shopping for some nice cypress.

Now that we’ve had our medicine, I must say that it has been a delightful season.  El Niño might be wreaking havoc all over the world but he allowed us to get out on our Com-Pac 16, Prudence for some extra-fine Fall/Winter sailing.  One of the real highlights of the season was sailing on Christmas Day.  There had been a raging gale several days before Christmas with 22 foot waves on Lake Michigan.  That’s 22 foot December, Great Lakes waves which are steeper and heavier than ocean waves. While not 22 feet, there were still some big rollers that picked up in the 20 knot afternoon breeze. The waves were very uniform with an occasional series standing above the others.  It was consistent and certainly memorable.

The icy, steel blue water was beautiful and deadly as we beat  5 miles WNW onto the lake.  We were driving so hard, we kept the Port Sheldon pier off our stern with almost no leeway to the South.  Prudence yields a bit to the currents so this was a pleasant surprise.  We would be able to triangulate back to the pier.  Three legs and we’d be home.   We ended up gybing off on the second leg then rounding back NE as Prudence didn’t want to tack into the rollers that were beginning to stand up 5 miles offshore.  On leg three, we ran S along the Lake Michigan shoreline back to Port Sheldon. That leg ended way too soon.

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October on Lake Michigan

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November sailing- Holland, Michigan

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November sailing. Coming into Lake Macatwa from Lake Michigan.

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Christmas Day 2015. 5 miles out, 5 miles back with Julia’s daughter, Chloe. Fine sailing. -Port Sheldon, Michigan

Christmas Day - Lake Michigan

Christmas Day – Lake Michigan

It has, indeed, been a delightful year filled with hard work and dedication that shows in all we have accomplished  It has been a year of change and sacrifice balanced with the enjoyment of life’s small pleasures.  It helps to have someone like Julia who can see the forest through the trees.  She has been working tirelessly alongside me.  Even during the 60 hours it took me to strip the paint from the port topsides,  she was there at the end of the day with a couple of cold beers that we would drink at the Sunset Lounge, our two lawn chairs in the shade of Reverie.  Here’s to everyone having an eventful and  productive 2016.  Cheers!


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Toe Rail & Covering Board

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“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” ~ Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

 

Here we are, watching March, 2015 fade to memory. This year, March came in like a lion and has remained roaring ever since. The Great Lakes region has been sunny and dry, for the most part, but it has been “…summer in the light and winter in the shade.”, as Charles Dickens put it.  I started work yesterday morning in 24° Fahrenheit with a strong North wind gusting 25-30 mph.  The temps stayed steady throughout the day but it was “summer in the light” and there’s work to be done

The Great Lakes began to shed their ice in early March.  The Coast Guard, police and fire rescue crews have had their hands full with idiots on ice ever since. Every year, overzealous ice fishers, snowmobilers unaccustomed to the laws of physics and errant sightseers end up falling through the ice or somehow trapped on a floe drifting off into the open water of the Great Lakes. As more and more people are taking to the water in small craft, there has been a surge in kayak, canoe and paddleboard related incidents as well. This is nothing new, as we can see from previous generations: these people breed.

The work at hand is to get the port-side deck beams in order.  The leaking deck caused them to rot and I’m sure there’s more to discover once things are taken apart.  So, the bronze jib track, the toe rail and the covering board need to come off to get a look the deck beam ends below.  The deck beams are not as accessible as the carlines, which make up the framing for the hatches and cabin.  The deck beams run perpendicular to the keel line of the boat and their outboard ends are worked into the sheer clamp.

The sheer of a boat is the edge where the topsides meet the deck. It is an important aesthetic point in boat design.  The sheer clamp is the board that runs inside, along the topside and provides a band of support for the deck beams.  On larger boats, there is often a board that sits on top of the clamp called a shelf. Reverie only has a clamp that the deck beams are tied into.  The situation gets complicated by the fact that the deck beams are tied into the clamp outboard and not accessible from inside. .

One of the nice things about a wooden boat built in a traditional manner is that, “what’s done, can be undone”. The fact that the boat is held together with fasteners is a plus when doing major work such as replacing the deck beams.   Even though it can be undone, I’m cursing the fact that the deck was allowed to leak and this all occurred. I suppose that is how every old boat, house or any other creation of humanity meets it’s end: human neglect. “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure”.  Yes, it’s times like these when many an old proverb comes to mind.  DSCN0683

The task of removing a multitude of screws is best done with a hand brace fitted with the appropriate screwdriver bit.  I also came armed with a hand impact driver to loosen up any recalcitrant fastenings.  The hand brace exerts an amazing amount of torque and allows you to put downward pressure on the screw.  This is especially important when removing screws that have been in place for over 60 years and are unwilling to yield.

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The bronzed track is held down with stainless steel screws and came off without incident.  I did find splitting in the toe rail at the scarf which was caused by the linear nature of the track and the natural grain of wood.  “Easy, Igor. You impetuous young boy!”

The toe rail is fastened to the covering board with 4" silicon bronze screws. The phillips heads want to strip out if you even look at them the wrong way.

The toe rail is fastened to the covering board with 4″ silicon bronze screws under wooden bungs. The phillips heads want to strip out if you even look at them the wrong way.

The covering board appears to be fastened with steel flat head screws which have very shallow slots that will require careful cleaning and concentration to remove.  I left that task until I set up a better scaffolding as it will require a lot of downward pressure on the brace and bit.  I’m going to have to make a concerted effort to extract these puppies.

I made it four hours before calling it a day. The wind really took it out of me.  The day was a success in that, I was able to ascertain how easy or difficult this stage would be.  I’m expecting the rest of the port-side toe rail and covering board removal is going to take another 8 to 10 hours.  And that’s if everything goes well!

11:00 a.m.

11:00 a.m.

3:00 p.m.

3:00 p.m.

Think Spring, my friends!

~Roger


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Mood Lighting and Hoarfrost

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Writing about boats seems a bit surreal on a morning such as this.   It’s six a.m. and the temperature outside reads -9° Fahrenheit.   A hot mug of coffee sits beside me as I look at the dog curled in a tight ball refusing to go outside until he absolutely has to.  Our African Grey parrot, who usually comes out and says good morning and loves to have her head scratched, huddles next to her heated perch silent as the morning at hand.  Julia gets up in a half hour.  All is quiet.

I know that February is the shortest month of the year but this year, it seems to be the longest.  Here in the Great Lakes region, we have had an exceptionally cold month with temperatures well below average.  It has been a rare moment when the thermometer has read above 20° during the day with nighttime temps below O°.  Today is the 27th and the month is, in fact, almost over.

March will certainly give us a break from the deep freeze that holds us so tightly in its grip.  In Michigan, March is that month of transition when Spring’s arrival beckons us with signs of warmer days ahead. Old Man Winter begrudgingly yields his reign over the land. We begin to notice the lengthening of the days while plodding through half frozen mud and melting snow banks.  We spot a bluebird perched on a fence post along a lonely country road; its ditch overflowing with melt water.  Sap drips from the trees as they awaken from their deep sleep.  Soon, there will be the chorus of spring peepers and blackbird songs to let us know the time has come.

The Great Lakes have frozen almost completely over, much as they did last year. This will mean a slower melt and the probability of cooler Summer water temperatures for the big lakes.  While this is not appealing to beach goers, it means less evaporation and higher water levels for the Great Lakes; great news for those of us who have been watching the steady decline in lake levels over the past decade or so.   When you are sailing a boat that draws over 4 feet of water, any increase is welcome.

The off-site  boat work has been going well but last weekend, I had to get to the boat to take a few measurements and do some more prep work for the next phase that involves removing and replacing the deck beams.  “Remove and replace the deck beams”  It sounds pretty straightforward.  Easier said than done.  One short sentence sums up a whole lot of work.  So, it was off to the boat on a blustery 15° day to see what needs to be done.

Reverie sat there under a massive mound of snow that strained her tarp taut against her deck.  Fortunately, she sits alongside an industrial building protected from the significant Westerly winds blowing off Lake Michigan.  I had to shovel my way to get alongside and clambered aboard.  I tried to coax the snow from the tarp then had to lift 10 pound chunks of ice that had settled on the deck just to make room to squeeze into the cockpit.  Julia handed me tools and other work related items.  I quickly had the cockpit filled with milk crates and 5 gallon buckets full of work stuff.  I then had to navigate my way around everything to get into cabin.   Julia had some business to attend to nearby so I went to work for a few hours alone.

The building next door where I plug in had just been rented to a new tenant and I didn’t have access to electricity (lights, heater…) so I brought along a supply of candles and a Dietz lantern for light and a wee bit of welcome heat.   I climbed into the the cabin and it was pitch black due to the amount of snow on the tarp. I got a few candles lit and looked about me to discover the interior of the boat looked more like an ice cave than a cozy work space.  There was hoarfrost covering the entire interior.  It was so dark, the candles did little to illuminate the cabin enough to work so I had to leave the companionway open for whatever light came from outside. This deprived me of any heat they might have given off.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Light at the end of the tunnel

With a little LED lamp in one hand and candles all around, I set to work.  This stage of the project involves a lot of assessment and planning so, I had no illusions about getting a lot of physical work done.  What I wanted to do on this cold day was to get the port-side bunk removed so as to be able to inspect the hull and deck beam ends.

The deck beams are notched into a hefty sheer clamp which is a board running the entire length of the boat that provides stiffness to the hull and support for the deck.  I wanted to see how the deck beams were fastened so as to plan for their extraction later.  I removed the most rotted beam and found that it was nailed to the sheer clamp from above and fastened to the frame.

Frames are the ‘ribs’ you see inside of a wooden boat that resemble the ribs of a fish.  The deck beams we have to replace first are the ones that were tied into the carline or header I made last week.  They are called half beams.  Those ends that are inboard were easy to inspect with the carline removed.   The mystery of what was outboard hidden by the sheer clamp was what I came to ascertain and therein lay most of the work.

One of the great things about a wooden boat is that everything is held together with fasteners; screws, nails and trenails (essentially wooden dowels or pins).  If it can be put together, it can be taken apart.  To get at the outboard beam ends is going to require the removal of the toe rail, covering board and sheer plank. The toe rail is on the deck and does the job of keeping one’s toes from slipping overboard.  The covering board is the piece that provides a big, solid edge trim for the entire deck.  The sheer strake is the final plank of the topside of the hull.  All of these pieces are held together with screws that are hidden under bungs, which are wooden plugs glued and sealed to make the piece uniform and water tight.

Gaining access to the beams is more work than replacing the beams themselves.  If there were just a few small half beams to replace, the sheer strake might not have to be removed but one of the king beams or ‘heavy beams’ (major structural components) has to be replaced and I see no way to do it without removing the sheer strake.  In the long run, the whole job will be easier with the sheer strake removed.  This will give us a good look at the frame ends and allow the rest of the ‘good’ beam ends to be sealed and treated.

I  got the port-side bunk removed and had a look at the interior of the hull.  The whole interior of the hull is painted and the paint is peeling badly.  That’s going to require the removal of all of the interior joiner work, a lot of scraping and stripping with a heat gun once we have electricity.  That’s not such a bad thing as it will allow the inspection of every inch of the hull.  I found another cracked frame hidden below the bunk in a place I couldn’t see when I made my initial survey of the boat in December.  I expect to find more of this as there are a lot of areas I was unable to see without removing everything.

The bunk came out in an hour or so and I sat there with a jar full of screws to be labelled ‘port bunk’.  In the darkness, still clutching the LED lamp in my left hand, I scraped what paint I could. Some of it came off in rather sizable chunks.  I refrained from really going at it and creating dust since I wasn’t wearing a dust mask and not fond of inhaling lead. After that, I then cleaned up and sorted tools and supplies in as orderly a fashion as possible.

In just three hours, several hundred more hours of labor reared it’s head like a serpent from the deep.  My initial estimate was optimistic but I’m a realist and won’t overlook anything that would compromise the integrity of the boat as a whole. “Did I do this?” or, “Did I do that?”, are not questions you want to ask yourself on the open water in heavy weather.

Port-side bunk removed and some scraping done.

Port-side bunk removed.

Even in 15° with my feet and hands numb from the cold,  I had to pull myself away and close up Reverie until another work day.  Maybe the next time we return,  we’ll even hear a blackbird or two.

Stay warm, my friends.

Roger