Gelcoat - Slow Progress

Well it has been nearly a year so I guess I really should post an update to show my (seemingly disappointing) progress before this year finishes.

Matt (my shipwright mate) told me pretty much what I was expecting to hear: "gotta get that gel coat off mate, then give me a call". He suggested that I see how much I could get off with a scraper first, since grinding it off is apparently quite messy. So off I trotted to the hardware and bought the most bad-arsed scraper I could find.

Then I got stuck into it near the stern tube. 

I did manage to make progress, but it was ridiculously slow. This was all I had to show after a full day of chipping away.

So Matt kindly lent me his large grinder and a couple of really coarse disks. 

It really is a filthy, noisy, laboriously slow job, but at least it's quicker than using the scraper. The shot below shows the results of a few hours hard work. The pipe near the stern tube is my feeble and unsuccessful attempt at dust extraction.

It's a horrible job and the toxic dust produced in large volumes goes absolutely everywhere. No the best in a residential area. 

I wasted heaps of time trying to screen the job off in an attempt to contain some of this dust, but the slightest breeze made the plastic sheeting collapse constantly. 

I also had to buy another set of goggles since my ancient cheap piece of crap wasn't blocking anything. I'd find myself digging the dust out of my eyes at the end of each day. 

But at least I did make some progress over time. 

As it currently stands, I've gotten everything off from that strip (in the photos above and below) back toward the stern. There's a lot to go, but at least I seem to have gotten a heap of it off now. I've also just bought a new grinder/polisher, so I can finally give Matt his one back. I've also recently bought a heap more plastic sheeting and gaffa tape, as well as a new respirator (I think my old one was leaking/letting the dust in), so hopefully I'll be able to control some of the dust. 

I haven't been able to get any more done for months now due to lots of other commitments and an unlucky streak of unsuitable weather on my days off (too windy/too hot/too many neighbours around).

One of the biggest time distractions has been preparing for, and embarking on, a stint at the maritime college in Tasmania, to do my VTS course. I absolutely LOVE Tassie and had such a great time down there. I managed to escape over one of the weekends, hiring a car and driving like mad to cover as much ground as I could. I stopped at the marina in Kettering and went for a wander, and walking down the first wharf I came to I discovered a nice Contessa 26 at its berth (I think the universe is sending me a sign). 

Interesting modifications to the cockpit, otherwise she looks pretty standard. 

And another couple berths down I came across a Contessa 32, which was amazing. Looks well set up too. 

As if I need more motivation, when I got back home I was able to order a new book that has just been published on the little Contessa 26. It's since arrived and is awesome, but my wife has snatched it away from me and wrapped it up as a Christmas present for me. 

Anyway, that's been my year so far. I guess I should be happy with my progress, given the time/weather/financial challenges I've had, but things are about to heat up somewhat. I know I keep saying that, but things really are finally coming to a head. 

1. Our daughter will soon have her driver's licence, which means I will no longer have to drop everything to drive her to and from school twice a day (about an hour each time). 

2. Due to some changes at my work, I am about to be promoted to permanent full-time status. This is huge. It means that we can finally consolidate our financial position. Hopefully this will give me the funds to actually get this restoration done properly and in a timely manner. 

So hopefully in 2016 I will be able to share lots of useful info/progress, and we can finally see this classic beauty take to the seas once again. 

We wish you all a very merry Christmas and an excellent new year. 

Righto, Let's Get This Show on the Road

Exciting developments are afoot. It seems I'm going to be moving into a temporary (~12 months?) full-time role at work later in the year, as one of my colleagues is going to have a baby. And since I'll be needing to sort out some kind of accommodation close to work for this period, I've decided that the best option will be to try and get Sentina restored and parked in the marina in Newcastle harbour. Ambitious goal perhaps, but undoubtedly an exciting challenge. 

So with this gauntlet duly picked up, I've been getting the ball rolling.

Firstly I ceased work on my Hawaiian canoe build (see link to my other blog on this project) and moved her out to the back yard. She's near-as-damn-it to being completed, and I'll look forward to finally getting that job kicked into touch after Sentina is properly sorted out. The missus is just stoked at being able to park underneath the carport again. 

Turning my attention back to Sentina, I was shocked at how much the big bush had grown over her. It was going nuts and had completely engulfed the forward half of her. I had wanted to chop the thing out completely when Sentina was being lifted into this spot, but my wife was adamant that it should stay so I just cut it back as much as possible. Should've 'slipped' with the bloody chainsaw. 

It took a while, but its finally clear of the hull and decks. I might have a bit more of a hack at those overhanging branches later, but this should do for the time being. 

What a mess. I'm looking forward to pressure cleaning her from top to bottom again. Would this be the first CO26 that's had its hedges trimmed?

I also had a shipwright mate of mine come over to have a look at the boat for me. Matt's a top bloke, an excellent shipwright and really knows how to get jobs like these done properly and cost-effectively. He also knows the best places to source parts, equipment and materials and has loads of contacts. 

He was genuinely surprised at how good the hull is, and reckons the bones are all there. High praise indeed, and a testament to the original build quality.

He's given me a bunch of pointers and aimed me in the direction of my first task: stripping the rest of the gelcoat. Time to get dirty boys and girls. 

Quick Sit-Rep

This is just a quick update, in case anyone was worried I'd dropped off the planet completely.

Over the past five or so months, I've managed to get Sentina pretty much all cleared out. There's still the engine (and maybe the water tanks) to go, but no real hurry. The hull laminate is still pretty wet, and so the re-laminating won't be for a while yet. At some point I intend to get the rest of the gel coat off, but I'd like to get a proper shipwright's opinion on the best ways to proceed with all of that (it won't be fun).

In the last couple of weeks my focus has swung back onto my canoe build, and you can check out my other blog about this for details (see link).

Sorry to be so boring, but that's the way it is for the time being. I'm looking forward to being able to post something a bit more interesting, hopefully in the not too distant future.

Turning Point (Philosophically Speaking)

Ok, I admit it. I've done absolutely nothing on the poor old boat since my last post. I attribute this slovenliness to a combination of:

1. fatigue (from over work)
2. lack of time (due to previously mentioned overwork, plus significant job-hunting activity)
3. personal failings related to my being too soft to work on the boat in the heat/rain

On the other hand, I have actually managed to achieve something fantastic, which will now ensure that I can proceed with this restoration with renewed focus, time and (eventually) some useful funding.

Yes folks, I've finally managed to secure a proper job (only taken me almost two years). And its an absolute dream job too. Its doing something that really interests me, and makes use of my skills. The time off is good, and the pay is excellent. I couldn't be happier.

I've been training for the last few weeks, and have another couple weeks to go, but I should be able to get back into motion on the boat again as soon as next week. It'll be a while before we catch up financially (sooo much debt to pay back), but there's still plenty to be done on Sentina that won't cost any money. Plus there's the canoe to finish (God, now THAT's been a slow and drawn out project). At least the backsliding can stop now, and I can start to claw my way back out of the hole.

And so now, my friends, I can confidently say that its only a matter of time before my pristinely restored Contessa is bobbing happily in her natural element again. Then we can finally start going off on our own little adventures.

Bring on the next hurdle…..

Rudder, Prop and Rubbish Extraction

Ok, so I know its been a while since my last post. And I realise it would be reasonable to assume that I must surely have gotten the boat almost ready to relaunch by now. Well, what can I say? Anyone who's checked out my other blog (about my equally glacial outrigger canoe build), will probably have noticed similar tumbleweeds bouncing across the screen there too, which should be a good indicator as to my currently chaotic and interrupted lifestyle. 

In my defence, my job has been pretty nuts lately. I've been doing loads of overtime, working my backside off six days per week, for months and months. It'd be nice to be able to say that I'm at least getting ahead financially, but we're still barely treading water. My job-hunting has proven fruitless so far, and I'm still stuck in a thankless, unrewarding, brain-numbing, lowly paid, crappy, temporary (hopefully) job for the time being.  

But who said life was meant to be easy, right? I'm not whinging. When these two boats are eventually completed (and believe me, they WILL both be completed one day), and are sitting in their natural, watery environment, none of this crap will matter. Hopefully it might even give other mental defectives like myself some sort of inspiration with their own slow projects. 

Besides, Its not like I've been completely idle.

The next challenge I wanted to tackle was the removal of the rudder. I naively figured this should be a doddle. For the uninitiated, there are three pivot points. The rudder sits on the bottom one, and should just lift off - no problem there. The middle gudgeon/pintle is held with a pin, which is secured by a split-pin - no problem there either. The top pivots on a large bolt, which is secured by a Nylock nut, which appeared to be seized solid - hmmm, Huston, I think we've got a problem. 

Access here was quite tight, because the rudder is pretty thick at this point. It meant I needed sockets, and weird sized ones at that (17/18ths ??? - that's why we have the metric system folks). I managed to beg, borrow and scrounge the items I needed, and after drowning the recalcitrant nut in litres of penetrating lubricant, spent many a happy hour sweating, struggling and cursing over it. 

After a few weeks of this entertainment, I had managed to move the nut only a few millimetres, whereupon it really stuck fast, refusing to go any further. I was hoping to save as much of the boat as I could, even nuts and bolts, but it was time to step things up a little. 

Using a thin cutting disc, I attacked the nut (with some perverse joy, I admit it). First one side, then I rotated it 180 degrees, and cut the other side. 

Both halves fell away, and the rudder is now as good as removed. The poor old bolt has had it though.

Now it was time to see what I could do about removing the propellor and shaft. Expecting trouble, I pulled out every weapon in my measly arsenal, and dared the stern gland to resist. 

Surprisingly (and almost disappointingly) this bit gave me no troubles at all. Everything very obligingly came free with a minimum of fuss, although I thought I could hear a very faint chuckling noise coming from somewhere. 

It made sense when I climbed into the bilge to release the shaft coupling.

Thus ensured another few weeks of struggling, spaying, hammering and homicidal thoughts. 

Broke one of my bloody spanners too. Bastard. 

Fortunately, a work colleague (very decent bloke, fellow sailing degenerate and ex-Canadian, with an awareness of Contessa 26s, and a penchant for multihulls), took pity on me. He suggested we go for a cleansing sail, after work one Friday evening, aboard his trimaran on Lake MacQuarie. How could I say no?

What a top afternoon/evening. I can't tell you how restorative that sail was. It was so good to wet the scales again. Thanks heaps Mark. I got home pretty late, and I was buggered at work the next day, but I was mentally realigned again. 

I came home with renewed motivation. Out came Mr Happy Slash. No prisoners.

Its wasn't a completely silly frenzy of destruction. I was very mindful of workplace safety, particularly the risk of fire. I was going to wet a blanket and lay that in the bilge, but then I saw our fire blanket in the kitchen pantry. I quietly slipped it out to the boat (we don't deep fry anything anyway - but still, don't tell the misses), and set it up . 

My secondary line of defence was a running hose, attached to the cockpit with a rope.

Two minutes later, success.

Buoyed by my win, I followed it up with a Council Rubbish Pick Up. I bagged up the mountain of greasy, toxic garbage that had accumulated next to the boat, and arranged for it to be taken away. Looking much cleaner out there now. 

There's still the little matter of a couple hundred litres of foul, stinking, carcinogenic, liquid waste to get rid of, but I'll have to wait for the next amnesty for that. Apparently they'll only let you dump up to 25litres at a time, otherwise its counted as commercial waste, and charge you accordingly. I'm planning to see if I can get a bunch of people to help.

So there you go. I've now got the engine pretty much disconnected and unbolted too, so its ready to be lifted out. I've actually got a couple weeks off over Christmas/New Year, so I intend (with Mark's help) to get the engine out before I go back to work. Then I can really get stuck into getting the old girl properly cleaned out, followed by getting the last of the gel coat off (somehow). 

I'm eager to get Sentina to a state where she can just sit and dry out properly. Then I can get back onto the canoe build again. I need to get it (the canoe) completed and in the water asap. At least then I can get back out on the water for pleasure/motivation again more often. 

Of course, I'd better get proper job by then. Here's hoping 2014 is going to be a pivotal year. 

Hope anyone reading this has a very merry Christmas, and a prosperous new year. 

Cheers guys. 

Cockpit Sole Extraction - Check and Mate

The weather was stunning yesterday, and with no other pressing commitments/errands to attend to, I was able to get stuck into some more work on Sentina.

Firstly, with the bow now properly supported, I got right up into the fore cabin and commenced cleaning it out. Then I vacuumed up all of the bits of debris, working form stern to stem. She still needs a good scrub down, but that fun will come soon enough.

Then I turned my attention to the cockpit sole again. This has to be removed, so I can get the engine and stern gear out. After unsuccessfully hacking at the silicone goop around the edges of the sole for quite a while (man, that stuff is strong!), I decided to get a bit more aggressive. 

Plan B struck me as elegantly simple. Just slide the brace into the hole, stand across each seat and a gentle tug should surely see the floor lifted with ease. 

Unfortunately, whilst getting my stance nice and comfortable before the lift, I made the mistake of letting go of the rope. My 'ingenious-cockpit-sole-extraction-device' immediately fell down into the mysterious, dark recesses of the bilge, and absolutely stuck fast. No amount of jiggling, coaxing, swearing or dark, filthy looks helped. It was there for ever. 

Hmm, I thought......so its going to be like that, is it? Righto then, time for Plan C. 

This time I opted for something a bit stronger, and I was careful to keep a tight rein on it.

Then I tried to get a bit creative in setting up maximum force application, taking into consideration potential directional loading upon the system (sound smart, don't I?). 

Not wanting to give fate any ammunition at all, I also decided to utilise the port sheet winch for applying the tension. This sucker was coming up, one way or the other. 

After some messing around and minor tweaking, I was able to get some significant tension on the rig. But the sole would only come up a couple of millimetres. It was back to slicing and chopping at the white goop again, whilst keeping the tension on. 

I battled away for over another hour like that. I was about to give up and start on Plan D, when I tried cranking on even more pressure just one more time. With visions of deck fittings suddenly tearing loose and entering my temporal lobes at great velocity, I continued straining against the winch handle until I was finally rewarded by the sound of the sole slowly tearing free. 

At last I could look straight down onto the stern gear and aft end of the engine. Success sure tastes sweet, especially after a battle. 

I've read accounts of the deep, comfortable cockpits on these boats, and now I can understand the truth of them. Sitting on the seat and resting my feet on the flange from the original sole, I was surprised by just how natural and comfy the original set up is. I'll definitely be reinstating the proper level later.  

My next mission will be to remove the rudder, closely followed by the prop, shaft and then the engine. Then I can start on the water tanks.