Varnishing continues but I've found a pleasing distraction in the form of Adam and Joe's podcast on BBC 6 Music. Very funny.
Stephen!
Friday, 30 January 2009
Wednesday, 28 January 2009
Displacement Activity
Good news - the last two evenings I've got out and slapped a coat of varnish on the battons and keel. The first coat was a dream because I thinned it down with white spirit. This evening's efforts were more like hard work because I was back smearing treacle about the place; mostly on the wood but also on my clothes, in my ears, hair, nose etc.
One more coat and I'm calling it a day as my aim is to fit the hinge material this weekend. For some reason I'm more than a little intimidated by the prospect of this operation and I fully expect to find some sort of displacement activity to divert my interest; with my family it shouldn't be too difficult.
Bad news - a little over a year ago I was, to be frank, bragging about my son being at the top of the class for maths. Well by now I should realise that pride comes before a fall; yesterday I was hauled into school to be told that he's in the bottom three. Thats some turnaround. It has something of the British ecconomy about it. I'm at a loss to explain it, his exercise books are rammed with high marks and he never seems to struggle with his prep. It's certainly a puzzler.
My boy's new but not particularly improved 'ranking' is based upon an exam that the whole class recently sat. I was shown his paper and it made for quite depressing reading. We've come up with an action plan and I'm fairly confident that we can address the issue, hopefully without the little chap being too put out. Ah, could it be I've found my displacement activity already?
Nice.
One more coat and I'm calling it a day as my aim is to fit the hinge material this weekend. For some reason I'm more than a little intimidated by the prospect of this operation and I fully expect to find some sort of displacement activity to divert my interest; with my family it shouldn't be too difficult.
Bad news - a little over a year ago I was, to be frank, bragging about my son being at the top of the class for maths. Well by now I should realise that pride comes before a fall; yesterday I was hauled into school to be told that he's in the bottom three. Thats some turnaround. It has something of the British ecconomy about it. I'm at a loss to explain it, his exercise books are rammed with high marks and he never seems to struggle with his prep. It's certainly a puzzler.
My boy's new but not particularly improved 'ranking' is based upon an exam that the whole class recently sat. I was shown his paper and it made for quite depressing reading. We've come up with an action plan and I'm fairly confident that we can address the issue, hopefully without the little chap being too put out. Ah, could it be I've found my displacement activity already?
Nice.
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Wot no 2008?
Generally I feel that petty excuses for patheticly poor performance are an embarassment for all concerned; the excuser doesn't want to hear them, the excusee knows this but somehow feels compelled to put forward anything other than the frank admission that "I'm crap".
I, wait for it, am crap. There you go; that's your lot; enjoy it.
It would appear that at some point during the last year my garage has been visited by a person, or persons, carrying a large spoon, who has proceeded to stir the whole place up.
Anyway, yesterday I managed to excavate down through several layers of tool and equipment strata to reveal a partially built folding boat and a number of pieces of plywood. A router, bits, a pair of saw-horses and a large slab of MDF were also recovered and within an hour of so I had a makeshift workbench (I've only ever had a makeshift workbench, so this is as good as it gets) with the partial body of a boat lying akimbo upon it.
The bits of plywood that I found were the retaining battons that will be used to hold the hinge material in place. I'd already cut them out but in order to prevent damage to the stitched hinge they had to be rounded off. This would have been an easy task with a router table but unfortunately I'd lent it to a friend so I was forced to use my 1/4 inch router and run the cutter over the ply manually. Much clamping, adjusting, re-clamping and stooping followed, at the end of which I have a set of rounded battons and a touch of back-ache.
Never mind, we're back on the build. Hurruh!
The battons need to be varnished. Huroo.
I, wait for it, am crap. There you go; that's your lot; enjoy it.
It would appear that at some point during the last year my garage has been visited by a person, or persons, carrying a large spoon, who has proceeded to stir the whole place up.
Anyway, yesterday I managed to excavate down through several layers of tool and equipment strata to reveal a partially built folding boat and a number of pieces of plywood. A router, bits, a pair of saw-horses and a large slab of MDF were also recovered and within an hour of so I had a makeshift workbench (I've only ever had a makeshift workbench, so this is as good as it gets) with the partial body of a boat lying akimbo upon it.
The bits of plywood that I found were the retaining battons that will be used to hold the hinge material in place. I'd already cut them out but in order to prevent damage to the stitched hinge they had to be rounded off. This would have been an easy task with a router table but unfortunately I'd lent it to a friend so I was forced to use my 1/4 inch router and run the cutter over the ply manually. Much clamping, adjusting, re-clamping and stooping followed, at the end of which I have a set of rounded battons and a touch of back-ache.
Never mind, we're back on the build. Hurruh!
The battons need to be varnished. Huroo.
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
Wot no August?
August, it seems, is a bad month for boat-building.
It is, on the other hand, a fantastic time for the Fastnet yacht race to be postponed due to bad weather while some idiot is clinging to the very edge of the north Cornish coast in a battered, sodden tent with a wife and two kids.
August is a time for wives to decide to take a sudden interest in catching up with their previously neglected Childcare coursework, thus necessitating that husbands waste their valuable time reading said course materials, cautiously offer constructive criticism of proposed essays and immediately cop an earful of trouble over the level and tone of the criticism; too critical.
In August four year old daughters have birthdays requiring massively extravagant celebrations and ludicrous expenditure on gifts in various shades of pink.
It is a time for getting horribly used by local schoolwear outlets (staffed, I'm sure, by the living dead) buying a mass of over-priced, poor quality (but apparently absolutely essential) uniform items that will be worn once before some little toe-rag chips-off with them in his/her bag; no amount of name tags seem to nudge the offender into returning anything. Ever.
August is the month when one's friends disappear to the Dordogne to enjoy balmy days of glorious sunshine, beautiful countryside, fine cuisine, full-bodied wine, thrusting conversation and excellent company. Truffle-scoffing gits.
It's not a month for boat-building though. Sorry.
It is, on the other hand, a fantastic time for the Fastnet yacht race to be postponed due to bad weather while some idiot is clinging to the very edge of the north Cornish coast in a battered, sodden tent with a wife and two kids.
August is a time for wives to decide to take a sudden interest in catching up with their previously neglected Childcare coursework, thus necessitating that husbands waste their valuable time reading said course materials, cautiously offer constructive criticism of proposed essays and immediately cop an earful of trouble over the level and tone of the criticism; too critical.
In August four year old daughters have birthdays requiring massively extravagant celebrations and ludicrous expenditure on gifts in various shades of pink.
It is a time for getting horribly used by local schoolwear outlets (staffed, I'm sure, by the living dead) buying a mass of over-priced, poor quality (but apparently absolutely essential) uniform items that will be worn once before some little toe-rag chips-off with them in his/her bag; no amount of name tags seem to nudge the offender into returning anything. Ever.
August is the month when one's friends disappear to the Dordogne to enjoy balmy days of glorious sunshine, beautiful countryside, fine cuisine, full-bodied wine, thrusting conversation and excellent company. Truffle-scoffing gits.
It's not a month for boat-building though. Sorry.
Monday, 23 July 2007
Keep on trucking
I want to talk briefly about the most useful tool I've found in trying to work on this project - the Trucker's hitch.
Also known as a Driver's hitch, Waggoner's hitch, Transport hitch or Lorry hitch, this little beauty forms a primitive pulley and offers a good 2:1 purchase (other people have claimed 3:1 but I don't see it myself). Click here and learn how to tie it - you'll never use bungee cord again (while your at it why not pick up a round-turn-and-two-half-hitches, bowline, figure-of-eight-stopper-knot and sheet-bend).
When you've got this one down you'll find it really useful in gaining the fine control and mechanical advantage necessary to position the panels exactly where you want them. You can also have fun asking any truckers you might know how to tie their classic knot - chances are they won't know - it's all ratchet straps these days - not like in my day - kids these days don't know they're born - I remember when all this was fields - rationing was hard but we were healthier - I used to have a lovely shrapnel collection - bring back the "birch" - bring back National Service - bring back Thatcher etc etc etc.
Also known as a Driver's hitch, Waggoner's hitch, Transport hitch or Lorry hitch, this little beauty forms a primitive pulley and offers a good 2:1 purchase (other people have claimed 3:1 but I don't see it myself). Click here and learn how to tie it - you'll never use bungee cord again (while your at it why not pick up a round-turn-and-two-half-hitches, bowline, figure-of-eight-stopper-knot and sheet-bend).
When you've got this one down you'll find it really useful in gaining the fine control and mechanical advantage necessary to position the panels exactly where you want them. You can also have fun asking any truckers you might know how to tie their classic knot - chances are they won't know - it's all ratchet straps these days - not like in my day - kids these days don't know they're born - I remember when all this was fields - rationing was hard but we were healthier - I used to have a lovely shrapnel collection - bring back the "birch" - bring back National Service - bring back Thatcher etc etc etc.
Sunday, 22 July 2007
Busy doing nothing
My sister and nephew visited this weekend so I found that we were running around a bit and as a consequence I didn't get as much done as I'd hoped.
I find that planning on getting certain things done is a sure path to feelings of frustration and irritation. Trying to plan anything when there's a young family around is a nightmare.
The simple fact is that as tricky as this project may be, by far the biggest challenge is balancing the demands of my wife, kids, family, friends and work with my desire to actually get outside and do something. I'm running around like a blue-arsed fly (as my old grandmother used to say - bless her).
On the other side of the coin, my wife, kids, family and friends are what make life worth living, while work finances the whole enterprise. So I'm not complaining. Although anyone detecting a slight whinge might be on to something...
Anyway, one of the top sides is now stitched on and the other is now held in place.
I find that planning on getting certain things done is a sure path to feelings of frustration and irritation. Trying to plan anything when there's a young family around is a nightmare.
The simple fact is that as tricky as this project may be, by far the biggest challenge is balancing the demands of my wife, kids, family, friends and work with my desire to actually get outside and do something. I'm running around like a blue-arsed fly (as my old grandmother used to say - bless her).
On the other side of the coin, my wife, kids, family and friends are what make life worth living, while work finances the whole enterprise. So I'm not complaining. Although anyone detecting a slight whinge might be on to something...
Anyway, one of the top sides is now stitched on and the other is now held in place.
Wednesday, 18 July 2007
The joys of varnish - part V
...and on...
Don't you do it; paint your boat. Your waggon too if you like.
I feel that, as this is a boat-building blog, I should impart some specific knowledge gained through my experience of building the Flapdoodle so far. So with regard to the stitching:
I used 80lb-test braided fishing line, not because I needed line that strong (the plywood would fail long before the line) but because I wanted a thicker braid and the best abbrasion resistance I could get. I also enjoy the philanthropy of giving the tackle shop owner wads of cash - £30 - good grief.
On my second attempt I made a better fist of wiring the panels together in the first place, then I started stitching from the middle of the panels, where the stress from the bending plywood is least, and worked my way out towards the ends. This was such an obvious thing to do that I can't believe I didn't try it from the outset.
I generally only ever loaded the needle with about six feet or so of line. Any more and I found the length of line following the needle through the holes was enough to make it start knotting itself up.
After about two feet of stitching I went back and fixed the start and end knots of each run of stitches with a small amount of epoxy resin. I also fixed the line in the holes every three inches or so. I made sure that I fixed the line in the holes and didn't allow the line to stick to the sides of the panel. The epoxy I used was cheap and effective. Even though the setup time was very short (4 to 6 minutes) the epoxy remains easy to remove for half an hour or so after it has initially "set".
I used pliers to pull the stitches tight; taking good care not to damage the line by slipping.
The stitched hinge seems good so I'm happy.
Don't you do it; paint your boat. Your waggon too if you like.
I feel that, as this is a boat-building blog, I should impart some specific knowledge gained through my experience of building the Flapdoodle so far. So with regard to the stitching:
I used 80lb-test braided fishing line, not because I needed line that strong (the plywood would fail long before the line) but because I wanted a thicker braid and the best abbrasion resistance I could get. I also enjoy the philanthropy of giving the tackle shop owner wads of cash - £30 - good grief.
On my second attempt I made a better fist of wiring the panels together in the first place, then I started stitching from the middle of the panels, where the stress from the bending plywood is least, and worked my way out towards the ends. This was such an obvious thing to do that I can't believe I didn't try it from the outset.
I generally only ever loaded the needle with about six feet or so of line. Any more and I found the length of line following the needle through the holes was enough to make it start knotting itself up.
After about two feet of stitching I went back and fixed the start and end knots of each run of stitches with a small amount of epoxy resin. I also fixed the line in the holes every three inches or so. I made sure that I fixed the line in the holes and didn't allow the line to stick to the sides of the panel. The epoxy I used was cheap and effective. Even though the setup time was very short (4 to 6 minutes) the epoxy remains easy to remove for half an hour or so after it has initially "set".
I used pliers to pull the stitches tight; taking good care not to damage the line by slipping.
The stitched hinge seems good so I'm happy.
Tuesday, 17 July 2007
Precipitation
So, what kind of weather can you expect for the south-east corner of England's green and pleasant land in the middle of July?
Lazy, hazy days of summer? The sort of weather that might persuade the ladies that bikinis are the order of the day?
How about one blistering day followed by a tornado?
That's right, a full-on officially recognised tornado. Complete with hailstones like marbles and torrential rain.
Nice.
That's it, I'm off to Kansas; at least the sun shines occasionally out there.
Lazy, hazy days of summer? The sort of weather that might persuade the ladies that bikinis are the order of the day?
How about one blistering day followed by a tornado?
That's right, a full-on officially recognised tornado. Complete with hailstones like marbles and torrential rain.
Nice.
That's it, I'm off to Kansas; at least the sun shines occasionally out there.
Monday, 16 July 2007
Consternation
I'm sorry for disappearing under the radar for a while but, as the above title suggests, a fair degree of dismay and anxiety has been experienced recently, resulting in a decision to "cut away and start again". So I cut away and I started again. And then after a couple of days intermittent stabs at stitching, I finished (for the time being at least). It has to be said that my second attempt at doing-the-job-properly-the-first-time was a reasonable success; the dinghy has a bottom.
I wouldn't want to give anybody the impression that the stitching process is a particularly challenging task. It isn't. However, there is increasing evidence to suggest that my hands are, in fact, a loose confederation of left thumbs.
Other people, people with the enviable gifts of manual dexterity and hand-eye coordination, have completed the stitching in two and a half hours!
I wouldn't want to give anybody the impression that the stitching process is a particularly challenging task. It isn't. However, there is increasing evidence to suggest that my hands are, in fact, a loose confederation of left thumbs.
Other people, people with the enviable gifts of manual dexterity and hand-eye coordination, have completed the stitching in two and a half hours!
Tuesday, 10 July 2007
Perspiration
It seems I'm making heavy going of this.
After stitching a hinge I've noticed that the gap between the panels is about 1/8" at best. I've posted a question in the Flapdoodle forum to see if this degree of "tolerence" is acceptable.
It turns out that I lack the small amount of coordination required for stitching either quickly or efficiently. Consequently there has been a little blood shed (we're only talking minor needle-sticks here) and, if the group decides I need to cut away and start again, there could yet be tears.
I'll survive, but I might have to put off any plans to become a concert pianist for a week or two.
After stitching a hinge I've noticed that the gap between the panels is about 1/8" at best. I've posted a question in the Flapdoodle forum to see if this degree of "tolerence" is acceptable.
It turns out that I lack the small amount of coordination required for stitching either quickly or efficiently. Consequently there has been a little blood shed (we're only talking minor needle-sticks here) and, if the group decides I need to cut away and start again, there could yet be tears.
I'll survive, but I might have to put off any plans to become a concert pianist for a week or two.
Monday, 9 July 2007
Inspiration
© Bill Weller
Isn't she gorgeous?
I didn't get around to doing any stitching tonight even though Bill and one of the other guys from the Y! group got straight back to me with some helpful insights and encouragement.
So I thought I'd re-post some inspiration instead.
Sunday, 8 July 2007
And now for something completely different...
....some boatbuilding!
For the time being the varnish brush has been cast aside in favour of the drill. Cunningly mounted on my router's plunge mechanism, it is capable of drilling the 726 1.5mm holes required for the three bottom panels (well, two panels and the keel) in a nice perpendicular fashion.
With the holes drilled and lightly sanded, the panels have been mounted and temporarilly joined in preparation for stitching.
At this late stage I've decided to have a moment's cold feet over the detail of the stitching and have rattled off an e-mail to Bill Weller, the boat's designer, for some reassurance. I'm such a lightweight.
For the time being the varnish brush has been cast aside in favour of the drill. Cunningly mounted on my router's plunge mechanism, it is capable of drilling the 726 1.5mm holes required for the three bottom panels (well, two panels and the keel) in a nice perpendicular fashion.
With the holes drilled and lightly sanded, the panels have been mounted and temporarilly joined in preparation for stitching.
At this late stage I've decided to have a moment's cold feet over the detail of the stitching and have rattled off an e-mail to Bill Weller, the boat's designer, for some reassurance. I'm such a lightweight.
Saturday, 7 July 2007
A love of the game
Today started out a bit rough. After just four hours sleep the night before, I had to entertain the kids (for "entertain" read "keep-them-out-the-way-of-their-slightly-hungover-mother"). So off we went to the beach and cooked a breakfast of pancakes, maple syrup and strawberries over my old spirit stove, while sat on the shore. Then it was time to build sand castles (we're talking a functional moat and a driftwood drawbridge here), go paddling and explore the rock pools (thankfully the tide was almost fully out when we arrived) before ice-creams and home. The children had a great time.
Five hours of full-on sleep-deprived childhood fun and adventure left me feeling a little worn so I was quite pleased in the afternoon when my good friends Yatje and Tristan came over for a quiet visit. We had a really nice time chatting on the lawn. A broad range of subjects were explored from post-vasectomy testicular bruising to french rugby-player's bums. To be fair this is Yatje's particular area of expertise and something that neither Tristan or myself feel qualified to comment on, although we didn't let this get in the way of offering a fair few comments.
I recommend a visit to Yatje's blog even though, in my view, she has recently developed a less than healthy fascination with the aforesaid franco-buttocks (in womanspeak this is described as "A love of the game" - visit the blog and make up your own mind). Tristan also has a blog on the go - more Audis, less rugby related male physiology.
Today saw no varnish!
So, all in all, after an inauspicious start, one of the most pleasant days I've had in a long while.
Five hours of full-on sleep-deprived childhood fun and adventure left me feeling a little worn so I was quite pleased in the afternoon when my good friends Yatje and Tristan came over for a quiet visit. We had a really nice time chatting on the lawn. A broad range of subjects were explored from post-vasectomy testicular bruising to french rugby-player's bums. To be fair this is Yatje's particular area of expertise and something that neither Tristan or myself feel qualified to comment on, although we didn't let this get in the way of offering a fair few comments.
I recommend a visit to Yatje's blog even though, in my view, she has recently developed a less than healthy fascination with the aforesaid franco-buttocks (in womanspeak this is described as "A love of the game" - visit the blog and make up your own mind). Tristan also has a blog on the go - more Audis, less rugby related male physiology.
Today saw no varnish!
So, all in all, after an inauspicious start, one of the most pleasant days I've had in a long while.
Friday, 6 July 2007
Thursday, 5 July 2007
The joys of varnish - part III
....and on....
Looks nice and shiny though. I've a horrible feeling that the first time I scratch the boat I'll have a total breakdown.
Looks nice and shiny though. I've a horrible feeling that the first time I scratch the boat I'll have a total breakdown.
Tuesday, 3 July 2007
The joys of varnish - part II
Varnishing still goes on....
Today I heard that the monsoon has failed to turn up in Korea. It's been reported that the reason the UK is experiencing torrential rain is that we've got the Korean monsoon sitting over us.
Korea looks quite a long way away from Great Britain in my atlas.
I'm not entirely convinced that the theory would stand up to rigourous scientic scrutiny. Or scrutiny.
Today I heard that the monsoon has failed to turn up in Korea. It's been reported that the reason the UK is experiencing torrential rain is that we've got the Korean monsoon sitting over us.
Korea looks quite a long way away from Great Britain in my atlas.
I'm not entirely convinced that the theory would stand up to rigourous scientic scrutiny. Or scrutiny.
Sunday, 1 July 2007
The joys of varnish
Word of my attempts at a varnish job has spread throughout the local insect population. Hoards of the little swine appear happy to make the pilgrimage to my boat panels to die. This morning the most recently varnished parts looked like some kind of elephants' graveyard. But with bugs.
Saturday, 30 June 2007
Back in the saddle
The British in general, and the English in particular, have an obsession with the weather. It's probably because we don't generally know what we're going to get; during our 'summer' you really do need to carry a pair of sunglasses and an umbrella. However, at the moment we do have some consistency - rain. Apparently the long range forecast reckons that this is with us until the middle of July. Am I down-hearted? No! I've finally got to a stage where I'm not chucking up great clouds of dust and I'm back in my wife's garage.
Putting the jig-saw and router away for a while has been a great feeling. I find that both tools are noisy, dusty and dangerous (at least they are in my hands). A bench-joiner acquaintance of mine has told me enough tales of lost digits and 'thrown' router bits buzzing around the workshop at 30,000 rpm to leave me with a kind of deep-felt respect for this equipment that borders on terror. Fortunately I now have quite a comprehensive kit of parts ready and I'm able to start working in earnest on actually building the boat. That said, the first task is to varnish the floor, keel and side panels. With each part requiring a minimum of three coats of varnish and needing sixteen hours between coats I'm not in any immediate danger of actually joining any of the parts together, but the feeling of making progress after a period of enforced stagnation is terrific.
There's something about building a boat, even a modest little dinghy. I can't quite put my finger on it but the general feeling for me is better than any other woodwork project I've ever undertaken.
For the time being at least, I recommend it.
Putting the jig-saw and router away for a while has been a great feeling. I find that both tools are noisy, dusty and dangerous (at least they are in my hands). A bench-joiner acquaintance of mine has told me enough tales of lost digits and 'thrown' router bits buzzing around the workshop at 30,000 rpm to leave me with a kind of deep-felt respect for this equipment that borders on terror. Fortunately I now have quite a comprehensive kit of parts ready and I'm able to start working in earnest on actually building the boat. That said, the first task is to varnish the floor, keel and side panels. With each part requiring a minimum of three coats of varnish and needing sixteen hours between coats I'm not in any immediate danger of actually joining any of the parts together, but the feeling of making progress after a period of enforced stagnation is terrific.
There's something about building a boat, even a modest little dinghy. I can't quite put my finger on it but the general feeling for me is better than any other woodwork project I've ever undertaken.
For the time being at least, I recommend it.
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
Frustration
In spite of the glorious summer weather I've managed to cut out and sand all of the main parts of the Flapdoodle. At this stage the enforced thumb-twiddling is proving more than a little frustrating.
Eventually I hope to post a photograph of the parts laid out on the ground in their radiused and varnished glory. That is, if it ever stops raining long enough to radius the parts and varnish them. Or even just take a photograph.
For the time being you'll have to visit Bill's site and look at the fruit of other people's labour.
Right now I'm getting a twinge of doubt about my choice of boat; somehow an Ark seems more appropriate....
Eventually I hope to post a photograph of the parts laid out on the ground in their radiused and varnished glory. That is, if it ever stops raining long enough to radius the parts and varnish them. Or even just take a photograph.
For the time being you'll have to visit Bill's site and look at the fruit of other people's labour.
Right now I'm getting a twinge of doubt about my choice of boat; somehow an Ark seems more appropriate....
Sunday, 24 June 2007
Rain stops play
All the signs and portents are in place - the summer equinox, the Glastonbury music festival and the start of the Wimbledon tennis championship. Together it can mean only one thing; the British monsoon season has arrived.
Outside it seems as though it's raining hard enough to make your head bleed. Bad news for any boat-builders that have been evicted from their garage.
Thursday, 21 June 2007
A good day
My boy arrived home today and announced that he had been put up into the top group for maths ("It's just me and the three smart kids!") and he'd passed his swimming personal survival test (they have to swim a certain distance wearing jeans, a shirt and a jumper, pick up bricks, tread water for so long etc). Not a bad skill to have if you're building a dinghy with your dad.
Bill sent through his latest plans for Flapdoodle III, which meant that I didn't get much achieved at work today. Back home I managed to get some boat building done and was back indoors in time to catch 'My Name is Earl' on the telly.
A good day
On the boat building front, I've noticed that when cutting a number of plywood sheets with a jigsaw, the top two sheets are OK but the end of the blade wanders a bit if a larger stack is attempted. With hindsight it's obvious but I've still managed to make the mistake and thought it worth mentioning. Although the wander isn't severe and will sand out easily enough, in future I'll be sticking with two sheets at a time.
Bill Weller, the boat's designer, recommends using a rotary saw; If I had one, I'd definately ditch the jigsaw altogether.
Bill sent through his latest plans for Flapdoodle III, which meant that I didn't get much achieved at work today. Back home I managed to get some boat building done and was back indoors in time to catch 'My Name is Earl' on the telly.
A good day
On the boat building front, I've noticed that when cutting a number of plywood sheets with a jigsaw, the top two sheets are OK but the end of the blade wanders a bit if a larger stack is attempted. With hindsight it's obvious but I've still managed to make the mistake and thought it worth mentioning. Although the wander isn't severe and will sand out easily enough, in future I'll be sticking with two sheets at a time.
Bill Weller, the boat's designer, recommends using a rotary saw; If I had one, I'd definately ditch the jigsaw altogether.
Tuesday, 19 June 2007
Domestic bliss
I'm now the proud owner of four main body panels and a keel. The cutting process was simple enough as the four panels are identical and this allowed me to clamp four half sheets of plywood together and cut the lot with two passes.
My eight year old son came out to assist with this task and, much to my surprise, was actually very helpful. Before cutting, he sorted the plywood and decided which sheets should be used for each particular panel and observed "Those two sides should be on the top because they look really nice", he then went on to say "The grain on those is really attractive; they'll look really good varnished". Attractive wood grain? Varnish? Who is this child?
Still, the varnish idea comes as a bit of a blow to morale - I was going to paint the thing.
So anyway, there we were cheerfully cutting the panels with the lad (wearing a dust mask) running around clamping things where necessary and supporting the weight of the sheets, when in walked an angry wife. Apparantly I was messing up her garage and she made her point in a clear and unambiguous manner. As you might imagine I didn't take this development particularly kindly and pointed out that I felt the garage was my domain; boat building in the living room was, I conceeded, unacceptable but the garage seemed an entirely appropriate location. At this point Eight-Year-Old-Son was removed by Angry-Wife and sent to do Piano-Practice; thus it came to pass that the sins of the father were visited upon the son. A lively discussion ensued but I launched a spirited defence of my position. I made a number of excellent points, cited precedents and eventually I carried the day. Hurruh!
Ten minutes I also carried all the boat building stuff out of the garage, swept up and went indoors to apologise to my now far less angry wife. Hurroo.
I helped the boy with his music practice and we then both went out and completed the cutting just before the thunder storms predicted in the Met' Office's Severe Weather Warning arrived.
The day's boat building tasks were sucessfully completed.
The boat is now a 'father and son' joint venture.
Family life was restored to normal.
Sovereignty of the garage was determined.
Husband neutered.
Domestic bliss.
My eight year old son came out to assist with this task and, much to my surprise, was actually very helpful. Before cutting, he sorted the plywood and decided which sheets should be used for each particular panel and observed "Those two sides should be on the top because they look really nice", he then went on to say "The grain on those is really attractive; they'll look really good varnished". Attractive wood grain? Varnish? Who is this child?
Still, the varnish idea comes as a bit of a blow to morale - I was going to paint the thing.
So anyway, there we were cheerfully cutting the panels with the lad (wearing a dust mask) running around clamping things where necessary and supporting the weight of the sheets, when in walked an angry wife. Apparantly I was messing up her garage and she made her point in a clear and unambiguous manner. As you might imagine I didn't take this development particularly kindly and pointed out that I felt the garage was my domain; boat building in the living room was, I conceeded, unacceptable but the garage seemed an entirely appropriate location. At this point Eight-Year-Old-Son was removed by Angry-Wife and sent to do Piano-Practice; thus it came to pass that the sins of the father were visited upon the son. A lively discussion ensued but I launched a spirited defence of my position. I made a number of excellent points, cited precedents and eventually I carried the day. Hurruh!
Ten minutes I also carried all the boat building stuff out of the garage, swept up and went indoors to apologise to my now far less angry wife. Hurroo.
I helped the boy with his music practice and we then both went out and completed the cutting just before the thunder storms predicted in the Met' Office's Severe Weather Warning arrived.
The day's boat building tasks were sucessfully completed.
The boat is now a 'father and son' joint venture.
Family life was restored to normal.
Sovereignty of the garage was determined.
Husband neutered.
Domestic bliss.
Sunday, 17 June 2007
A false start
Today I bought most of the required materials and lofted the offsets provided by Bill onto one of the sheets of plywood. With everything laid out in the garage and a dinghy-shaped panel marked out on the ply, it's really starting to look as though boat building might happen.
Although the Flapdoodle lofting process was straightforward and took much less than an hour, it's too late to start cutting today.
Saturday, 16 June 2007
Starting out
© Bill Weller
For some time now (probably since reading Swallows and Amazons about a million years ago) I've wanted a small boat.
To be honest a dinghy wasn't really a very practical proposition because storage and trailering were going to be a problem for me. Car-topping something very small was an option but not a particularly favourable one because I'd want to make occasional solo trips and damage to myself, my car and the dinghy all seemed likely consequences.
During my search for a solution I missed buying a folding dinghy (a Seahopper) for £50 by a couple of minutes. A couple of minutes! I was spitting feathers, not just because I'd come so close to achieving an ideal solution, but also because now I'd need a folding dinghy. Nothing else would do.
Research revealed that obtaining satisfactory plans and parts for an attempt at a home-build would be 'a non-trivial exercise'. At the time the firm that made the Seahopper also sold kits but for me they were prohibitively expensive so further research for a more affordable option was required.
Eventually I turned up several public domain plans, the most promising of which was an old 'Science and Mechanics' design called 'Handy Andy' (click here to take a look at the plans). As it stood the design was probably alright but I couldn't find any records of anyone actually building one and I wanted something that was a bit more like the Seahopper that had caught my imagination - a keel with a daggerboard case, a pram bow and a sailing rig would all be on my wish list. In true Blue Peter fashion I went to work with old cornflake packets and sticky tape (Biddy Baxter would be proud) to try and work out a design that inspired me with enough confidence to start building a full size prototype. Much trial and error (mostly error) followed and eventually I decided that although I do have some skills, I'm no Marine Architect.
Then, by a lucky chance, I stumbled across a link to a website offering plans for a folding dinghy for about £23 - http://www.flapdoodledinghy.com/. The seller, Bill Weller, accepts Paypal and very soon I was in possession of a very thorough set of HTML building instructions. As it turns out Bill is a very approachable and helpful individual who is dedicated to his design and the community of builders on the Net (click here to visit the Y! group). Bill's obvious enthusiasm is both contagious and inspiring so....we're boat building.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)