Caulking or Corking?

This is why we took a class! The Center for Wooden Boats offered a caulking/corking class last Spring so John and I went to see more of what we are getting ourselves into. Caulking is the process of filling in the spaces between the planks on the hull of the boat. This is done with a caulking iron and cotton batting. The technique is pretty simple: the caulker holds the batting in one hand and the iron in the other and basically used the flat edge of the iron to wedge the material where it needs to go. It is reminiscent of yarn crafts like crochet or knitting, which might be why I was declared a "natural". Of course, things are much easier in a class where the examples are designed to produce successful students. On our boat the planks are much closer together and so the process of getting the 'caulk' neatly positioned will be more difficult.

Before any caulking happens though, one must first reef out the 60 year old cotton that is already there. There is another iron for this. That's right, its called a reefing iron. Basically, its an iron hook that you wedge in between the planks and just get that stuff out of there.

We haven't done any of this on our boat yet. But its one little thing that we now feel qualified to do that will bring us one step closer to the dream.

Oh and, whether you say "caulking" or "corking" depends on the region you are in. Another reason this class was so helpful!

The Past Year

It's been a long time since we've posted. Last winter John and I decided to get married! So all projects went on hold until after the big day. And what a day it was!
Now that we're married we are dedicated to our "long and rewarding project" more than ever. Our notions of commitment and the future are more relevant now than they have ever been. The someday of our imaginations is more and more real as we plan our life together and part of that life will include sailing this boat with our family.

How It All Began

In Seattle there is this great heritage institution called the Center for Wooden Boats, www.cwb.org.  John is a member and every so often he'll rent a wooden boat and we'll take it out for a sail on Lake Union.  Good times.

Every Fourth of July the CWB holds the Wooden Boat Festival and neither of us had ever been so we made the trek this year.  By bus.

We got there around 1pm and took in the sights.  Lots of beautiful boats, lovely people, good food.  We chatted with the folks from the Wood Construction Center and my interest in becoming a woodworker was piqued.  More on that later.

As we were touring the boats John mentioned that the next day we were going to Camano Island to see a man about a boat.  You see, I thought he wasn't serious about buying the boat. Just that we would go for the drive, see the boat, maybe entertain the idea of someday owning one, and then drive home.

The boat festival was just what he called "the primer".  And, well, it worked.

The next day we packed up the car and the dog and headed North.  We met Fred and came home stoked about owning a boat.

The best part?  Buying it was my idea!  

It's Official, We're Those People...

So now we have this boat and to be honest, we don't have a plan.  The only thing that we know is that the rainy season is on its way and at the time of this writing, we have had two solid days of downpour.  And its only August!  Basically, we need a plan...and quick.

We're going to build a shelter for the boat.  This shelter needs to allow us to work; needs to keep the rain and debris out; needs to be versatile and let us stand up in the boat and move around easily; needs to not get in the way of the power line.  We're going to build a shelter this fall and we have a pretty good idea of what we want.  We talk about the fancy materials that we'll need and use words like "Visqueen polysheeting" and "ripstop".  It will have hinges and will fence the boat in while we work on it so that we don't have be, well, those people.  

We just need to build it.

This is not your standard blue-tarp situation.  And since I'm being honest here, we've never fancied ourselves blue-tarp people. You know what I mean.  The people who will use a blue tarp to solve any outdoor problem or eyesore; to be used as a car port, strung up with some twine as an awning or rain shelter (from above Seattle's backyards are dotted with blue tarps like pools in California), covering up the car that you'll get to someday, covering a pile of dirt, rocks, or a kiddie pool.  The big blue arrow pointing to the yard that says "I'll get to it!"

The blue-tarp lacks character and serves only to mock you, proclaiming to the whole neighborhood, to Sunday drivers, and to planes that fly overhead, that you'll never not need them (and the big box stores that sell them) for something.  It does nothing to camouflage your aspirations or your simple need for more time and/or money to finish what you started.

Last week I came home from a soccer game and John was stapling, yes - stapling, a big blue tarp to the boat.  In the rain.  In the wind.  In the dark.  And, what's worse?  I had to help while he was shouting orders over the noisy flapping and dodging the debris flying around, proclaiming excitedly "See, baby, this is what its going to be like when we go sailing!"

Right.  But couldn't we have at least gotten a brown one?

Our boat arrives!

which direction is it pointing?

Fred, John, and Mike in action

happy sailors

inside the cabin

on three!

our neighbor, Jack, peers over the fence

john looks happy as a clam

i think this is me hugging the boat.

john and fred figuring out the logistics

celeste is cute as a little button

me & Fred

us

backing her in

she fits!

Friends (L-R): Sheria w/Kinda, Laurie, Royal, Celeste, Jason & Oliver

Fred came around 12:30pm with the boat attached to his big white van.

He said "So, this is how we're gonna do this. We're going to back it in, drill a hole in the driveway and put an eyelet in, tie a rope to the eyelet and the boat and I'll slowly pull out and the boat will slide right off the trailor."

Uh. huh.

I shouldn't have doubted them. The boat slid right off without a hitch.

Neighbors, new and old, strolled by, peered over the fence, or drove over to offer their support, advice, and good vibes. Thanks to Mike for having a battery to run the winch, and thanks to Jack, Royal, Celeste, Laurie, Jason, Oliver, Evie, & Sheria for your moral support and for not thinking we're too crazy (or at least not letting it show ;-)). And many thanks to Fred for bringing the boat to our house and into our lives.

Later on in the evening, John and I sat in the boat and let our imaginations take over for a while. We didn't think about the money or the labor, sweat, blood, and tears that this project is assuredly going to bring, but we pretended we could hear the slap of the water against the hull as we laid in the cabin, and we could see all the hardware gleaming bronze and the compass pointing toward somewhere beautiful and unknown, and we could hear the sails at full mast beating against the wind. We had a great sail, and we hadn't even left the driveway.

Sometimes all it takes is a little imagination.

    

A 26.5 foot Blanchard Senior Knockabout will be delivered to our house on August 1.  It does not look like the one in the picture.  At this point, it resembles a boat.  It is not sea-worthy.  I'll post pictures of the beauty when she arrives on Saturday.  John and I are very excited about all the places this journey is going to bring us.  With lots of luck, that won't be the hospital or asylum.