And thats all she wrote. He wrote.

It's time to put the two halves together. It was mentioned in one construction manual that it was imperative to keep the building process moving because the hull may relax a bit after removal from the mold. This is not the good kind of relaxing. It means the hull gets narrower. If you leave it a real long time, it can get real narrow. Which is a real pain in all those places that you're thinking about right now. Real places.

When I held the deck over the hull to see if it was at least close, I almost swallowed my face. Maybe my tongue. Ok. Maybe I swore really a lot. Or possibly a real lot. My friend Gil was helping me. He has one of those laughs that you can't help laughing along with even if you just, say, cut off your finger. He laughed. I laughed. We put the deck down and I began to scratch my head.

What I needed was adjustable spreaders that would allow me to get the boat back to boat shaped. They needed to be a few different sizes. The bow and the stern sucked in a bit, too. I made tapered MDF wedges that I hammered gently into the pointy bits. I decided that I would like to remove them when I was through so I attached rope I could yank on later. The rope worked.

I used threaded rod and carved up some 2 x 4's into brackets to hold plywood cauls that were shaped to match the curve of the hull. Mostly. You can see these fabulous spreaders here.

Once all the spreaders were dialed in, I hot glued a piece of 2 inch wide 6 ounce fiberglass tape to the shear line of the hull. This makes it much easier to correctly place it. I used a teeny tiny drop of glue every 6 or 8 inches and pressed each dot of glue down flat. Keeping the tape taught is a good idea while doing this. When the deck is placed, the tape will be positioned already and it's one less thing to fool with.

I then got out the 2 inch painters masking tape, and blew through a couple of rolls taping the hull and deck together. This works surprisingly well. The surface area of the masking tape is equal to the state of Michigan, so it has a lot of holding power. That might be slightly incorrect. But I'm pretty sure that was fact checked, so trust me, would you?

Wetting out the inside seam tape with epoxy is relatively easy. You use both hatches and the cockpit for access, so there is never a long reach until the very ends. A foam brushed taped to a long dowel is a workable solution, and you just stuff it into the very ends a few times and everything should work out fine. Epoxy is likely to drip through anywhere it can find a gap in the joint, so taping the whole length tight is good idea. I had a leak at the very bow tip, and epoxy dripped on raw wood and set before I knew it was there. Those drips were a real pain to deal with, and if you know what you're looking at, you can see where they changed the color of the cedar. One board is kind of tiger striped when it should be solid. Sigh. As soon as one side gelled, I flipped the boat and did the opposite seam. The inside seam was the the least traumatic glassing job on the whole boat. I just wanted to say that.

The outside seam was a righteous pain the arse, excuse my French!

Again, the lying bastards who design these boats are prone to wild flights of fancy when it comes to expressing the actual difficulty of a given task. I'm sure they wouldn't sell any plans if they had a disclaimer like

'Don't be daft! You will never get any of this even close to right, so why fool yourself? Send me the 2000 dollars you'll end up wasting, and I promise I won't slap you.'

You see, if I had read that disclaimer, I would probably be building pipe bombs out of the anarchists cook book. Instead of boats. Boat, I mean.

If you do the stupid things I did, you might not want to be as stupid. I tried to mask off the hull and deck for the required one inch each side so the 2 inch seam tape would just drop into the cavity left behind from the masking. This was done badly. Very badly if I might say. Actually I must say it. If and when you see this boat, you may be inclined to ask what's this weirdness along the shear line. I'm suggesting you just leave it alone. Don't ask. Tact. Use tact.

If you mask off the hull, for example, I will suggest you don't use masking tape. I found black electricians tape works much better. It is harder to apply and you have to be careful not to stretch it too much. The elasticity is what will save your exalted butt later. Make sure you mask about an inch and an eighth. Be super anal about this. Its really important. Then when you wet out the glass, trim the excess cloth off to masked line or slightly above.

Do not leave glass over the tape. At all, for any reason.

Try using a plastic squeegee under the edge of the glass, and cut it with a razor knife. A steel drywall knife will also work. Ideally a piece of 1/8 inch plexi scrap with one edge beveled to a long taper would be awesome because you could see through it and cut just above the masking. I didn't do any of those things. I had about three layers of epoxy cured before I tried removing the masking. I wasn't easy, clean or smart. Bits of tape are still in the glass.

Once the first coat has gelled, remove the electrical tape. Pulling on it as you remove it will cause it to release and it is less likely to tear and remain under the epoxy.

I used the black tape when I masked for the outer seam. I had to cut the glass tape to fit because I didn't leave exactly enough room for the tape. You do not want to cut the tape. It is bound on one edge, and if you cut it it likes to unravel and fall apart. I was using the 'F' word as a noun, a verb, an adverb, and a modifier, all in the same sentence, on many occasions that day. Days. Remember what I said about the epoxy window? It has to be reapplied soon after it gels up, and it's true with the outer seams. After 3 coats, I sanded and discovered I wasn't even close. The trench the masking left behind wasn't filling too well. I really hoped this stage would be simple, but it was not. Not simple, not fun, stupid, stupid thing!

In the process of seaming, I tried something really stupid on one side. I decide I would let the epoxy set up a bit in the cup because it will cure faster when it develops a little heat, and it gets nice and thick and won't sag. The window of workable goo is much shorter and I was trying to spread epoxy as thick thick as molasses in January by the end, and it wouldn't wet out the glass at this stage. So on the port side, you can see the glass tape more than on the starboard side. Why I experimented on the actual boat is indicative of how I make mistakes. I just forget the dry run stage. The test stage. Carpenters do a thing called dry clamping. That's so when you actually use glue, you will know if it actually can be glued. What is the saying? Oh yeah...

Badges?!? We don't need no Badges!!!

Once I had built up enough epoxy, I sanded it out again. There were still divots. I tried the heat trick again, and it helped considerably. I sanded again. A few more tiny divots. At this point I stopped. I could do this drop fill thing for ever, so I decided to embrace the remaining divots as wayward children that need a home on my boat and thats better than my face so I'm cool with that. So are you.

It's time for the final sanding. Once the seams are feathered in, go over the whole boat with 120 grit paper in your random orbit sander. You are trying to remove any scratches the 80 grit left behind. Step up to 180 grit, and then 220. This is as far as you should go. Epoxy creates a molecular bond with the wood and the glass and itself if done in a timely manner. Varnish needs some tooth to bond to the epoxy. Because it is a mechanical bond, anything over 220 grit is getting too slippery. 220 will give a very smooth finish and the varnish will self level and look awesome over the epoxy. That is if you don't get any dust in the varnish.

That just isn't going to happen.

So you have to do your best at controlling the dust. I spread some of the thinnest, cheapest poly you can buy under my florescent lights. I stretched it tight and stapled it to the ceiling, my wood rack, and even some building material in racks up by the ceiling. I then draped plastic along the walls and unrolled some on the floor. I then started the varnishing. I used Epiphanes Marine spar varnish. It has lots of solids and lots of UV protection. I thinned the first coat to about 50%, and foam brushed it on. I wet sanded between coats with 320 wet / dry paper. I sand wet sand with one hand and wipe off the swarf with a painters towel. Wax on, wax off. And careful with that sash cord, grasshopper. It is recommended to do half the boat, let dry, flip it, do the other side. This seemed like a lot of work, so I decided to try to coat the whole boat. I found out that this only works if you can maintain a wet edge. Brushing on a whole coat takes about an hour and a half. You should do the combing first, and then the recess if your boat has one. Then move to one end and do a one foot section at a time. Start at the center of the deck and work to the shears and down to the keel. I found as the I progressed, I would have to reapply at the shear line. Work fast . Brush it on towards the wet edge horizontally. Then work it vertically to fill all holidays

and spread the thick spots. One last time horizontally so it can self level. Keep an eye out for sags and drips. You will need to catch them quick as varnish gels up fast. If you miss them, no big deal. When it dries it is a snap to sand out the errors. After three coats, I got up the courage to break out my HVLP sprayer. It tends to make a serious cloud of over spray, and I have always hated that. HVLP systems are known for their lack of over spray, but no one told that to my sprayer. The first coat was a disaster as I forgot about the exhaust on the turbine and it kicked a lot of dust from the floor. It was carpet like. I wet sanded of course, and then spread more poly on the floor. I taped a few seams, installed a cheap furnace filter for intake and used my portable fine dust air cleaner as an exhaust. There is still dust, but not nearly as bad. I had to thin the varnish to about 50% for it to level, but it didn't always want to cooperate. I realized it isn't going to look like a grand piano finish, but then again, grand pianos don't float. This is the kind of rational I can get behind.

All in all, I applied 7 coats so far. Three brushed and four sprayed. I think I'm done. I will paddle it till the season ends, and then go at it with some automobile paint polishing compound and a buffer. The varnish should be hard enough by then.

Varnish is the first line of UV defense for the epoxy. Epoxy isn't UV stabilized, and needs the varnish so it won't go cloudy. Yearly reapplications of varnish are a good idea. One coat in spring should do it. So I'm told. We live under a big ozone hole here in Manitoba, so tanning is a breeze and varnish is a must.

Most builders say the same thing. Don't spend all your time trying to get a faultless finish. Get that boat into the water and paddle it. Once you put the first scratch in it, it will be properly christened, and you can get with enjoying your new boat. I know I haven't. I started this blog installment right after the last coat of varnish. In four days the boat will exit the shop out of a second story window, and we will launch it in the mighty Red River at the end end of my street.

It has been a long strange trip. I knew that I was starting at the bottom of a long steep learning curve, and that proved to be a very astute observation. Now I know why most of the cedar strip craft I have seen are unfinished hanging up in someone's garage. The task was daunting even for an experienced carpenter like myself. The wood working was the easy part for me, but I had to use the full breadth of my skill set set. Techniques from stringed musical instrument repair, theatre and movie scenic construction, and creative problem solving were all used in this project. I had to walk away on a number on occasions and really scratch my noggin for ideas. Every time this happened, it was worth the wait. I find that ideas come fast, but good ideas should percolate down through your experience. Thats when the elegant solutions arrive in your head, and the real cool stuff comes into existence.

I have built many things in my life. Most of what I build is not for me. I have built many beautiful kitchens and bathrooms, deck and fences, and even some theatre and movie sets. But I do it for a living and not for myself.

This boat is for me. I will never sell it. I won't give away like I have done with all my carvings. This shall be passed on to my sons and their children until it is no more. I am not a materialist, but I do appreciate beauty, and this is a beautiful boat.

Bing, bang it's a boat! ( yeah, sure it is... )

Now it's time for some details. Things like hatches and deck lines and skegs and seats and stuff. Lets start with the hatches. Most builders recommend hatches with straps holding them down. Some suggest commercial hatch covers like VCP rubber hatches. They work very well and give you that production look. Not for my boat at all. I don't want something ugly and functional, I want beautiful and clever and somewhat invisible that may or may not work. OK, I added the last bit to protect the ignorant. Me. I decided that everything on this boat has to be difficult if not damn near impossible to make. So elliptical hatches it is. First, figure out how big they should be. Hell, first learn how to draw an ellipse! Your boat plans will probably have a hatch template, but thats too easy. I copied my fiberglass boats' rubber hatch dimensions. Sort of. I made the rear hatch wider than the front hatch because the deck behind the seat is flat and I wanted arm room to adjust the skeg cable. ( I'll get to the skeg next )

I made up 1/8 inch birch plywood templates, kerf cut them, and hot glued them to the deck. I then scribed a line and carefully used a very sharp scrolling blade for my jig saw to start the kerf of the hatch. I started with the back hatch and didn't get the prettiest entry hole. I built up the divot later with some epoxy. It didn't really work. The front hatch was better, and once I started the hole, I got out the jiggy saw and set her at about 30 degrees and cut the rest. Very carefully.

I didn't want straps holding down my hatch covers, and I didn't want to use rare earth magnets because they tend to screw compasses with in about a mile radius of the boat. Maybe not quite a mile, but you catch my drift. You do catch my drift, don't you? I designed latches out of cedar and spruce and high molecular weight plastic and a spring and a bicycle shifter cable sheathed in 1/4 inch pneumatic tubing. And a hunk of 1/4 inch plexiglass. See the picture below? Aren't I clever? The ex-wives didn't think so.

The recessed lip that holds the weather stripping that I really hope is water tight, is made out of fiberglass. I know that might be hard to read, but I don't care. These recessed lips are an idea from that guy from One Ocean kayaks, Valcav. I think thats his name. Any way, they were tricky to build. So tricky that I made them three times. Use plastic shelf paper to line the inside of the deck as a mold release and use 3/16 closed cell weather stripping to create a channel for the 3/ 8 weather stripping that will be the actual seal. Outline the hatch shape with the stripping and lay up about six layers of fiberglass cut to follow the curves. I just used a bunch of two and three inch long pieces about two inches wide. Be really carefull to get all the air out of all the layers. The voids the air can leave behind are the reason I had to make three sets to get it right.

I installed my latches so the cable would have a straight run to the cockpit. That placed them at the end of the ellipse. I won't do this again. I'll mount the latch on the side of the ellipse, and they will probably seal better. At this writing, the boat hasn't left the shop, so I don't know if my hatches actually work. But they look sooooo cool that I almost don't care. When the boat is sinking because the hatches don't seal, ask me what I think then. I carved little handles to yank on, and made little cable stays out of some laminated pieces of scrap. Everything works great in my dry shop, and the latches are very stealthy.

I wanted a skeg in this boat. I have one in my other boat, and it makes going straight a dream. If you are a shitty paddler, or have a cross wind the skeg is a life saver. It will keep you on the straight and narrow even as you abuse whatever your favorite vice is. I promise. I wanted my skeg to do the following tricks. It should be water tight. I should retract if it hits anything and redeploy when clear. I wanted a single cable to operate it, and that cable was to connected to a peddle between the foot rests so there is no visible activator.

I spent a lot of thought dreaming up the skeg. I chose to have it drop down into a more surf style skeg if I get out in the ocean. It will retract to a more traditional position with a touch of the peddle. I used 1/8 inch birch plywood as a core and covered it in carbon graphite cloth for that high tech look. A few layers of epoxy sanded smooth under many coats of clear enamel made a pretty cool looking blade. I made the box out of 1/4 inch pine plywood, and coated that with epoxy to make it waterproof. I wanted the skeg to be spring driven and operated by a cable, so it required a water proof axle to accomplish that. I scratched my noggin for quite a while and then it hit me. A faucet bonnet is exactly sorta kinda what I needed. It was $5.95 CDN which is about 38 cents USD. It is made from brass so it's a tad heavy. I bought the smallest one out there, but it's still has some heft. I originally used a shock cord to drive the skeg. Shock cord from the chinese hardware store doesn't really work for long. It becomes mildly irksome cord very quickly, and had to be replaced. Lookee!!

So I replaced the not so shocking cord with a spring from the same hardware store. Galvanized and out of a spring assortment bag for $3.99 CDN. It works very awesomely. It does. The cable attachment hardware was also tricky to create, but I pulled it together and everything works fine. Connecting the skeg blade to the bonnet / axle was done with a cap screw that is installed though a small access hatch I made from a two liter Pepsi bottle top. Those plastic caps are everywhere, so I'm confident I won't lose it. See?

Here is the puppy in action.

I built the combing out of laminated cedar and 1/8 inch birch plywood bent around a half form. I repeated this task three times till I got right. Arguably it still isn't right, but it's done so that is all we will say about that. I also bent and laminated a rim for the combing that was ripped in half after completed. It was definitely the hard way to build a combing. In fact, every other way looks easier and I'm sure would take a fraction of the time. But I choose the hard way and it looks like a million bucks if you squint your eyes a bit. It was time consuming and just a little bit frustrating to get that baby together. I needed a creative solution for cutting the combing lip too small. It looks like this

Heres another picture of the same process.

I mixed up some micro balloons and chopped silica and put it in the very ends of the boat to give me something to drill through for the rescue / carry handles. I drilled a 5/8 inch hole at the bow and stern just an inch or two from the stems. I then cut a hunk of spruce dowel, drilled it out to 3/8, and capped those dowels with ebony. They ebony is rock hard, so the rope won't wear it out ever. The ebony also looks tres` cool. We talk like that in Canada. Tres` tres` tres` cool.

I wanted light weight foot rests, so after buying two sets, I decided to make my own out of mini cell foam. I used the blocks you buy to put your kayak on your roof. Of your car, silly. I shaped these to the side of the hull and used industrial strength velcro. Velcro also holds my skeg pedal in place and allows for position changes. Readjusting the foot blocks takes a little while longer than foot pegs, but the weight difference is totally worth the effort. It's not like I'm gonna let anyone else paddle this boat for longer than a few minutes so positioning is a non-issue. Heres a peek.

The one thing I didn't build was the seat. I ordered a seat from the boat designer, Joe Greenley from Redfish Kayaks. It is made from mini-cell foam and weighs nothing. Really. It floats as though gravity doesn't exist. It's kind of spooky but very comfortable and well designed.

You should really consider deck lines. I did, and decided to hell with deck lines. I want a boat that is all sexy looking and naked of distracting safety features like rescue lines and deck rigging. Safety? Feh.

Meh,even..

Think Hot Rod. No roll bar, open wheels, no air bags.

Once all the details are covered or prepared, it's time to marry the two halves together. This is not such an easy thing to do. Or it isn't that hard at all. It really depends on who you talk to. What you don't want to do is leave the hull off the forms for very long. It can contract and become tricky to match the deck. Like the 'oh my God, I'll never get these things to line up' tricky. You will, but it might take awhile......

The Inner Ewe

At this stage, you have two halves of a boat. Pick one and glass the inner surface.

 I did the hull first. I scraped the interior with a tear drop shaped scraper I bought for a buck fifty. Such a deal. I bought two, if truth be told because you be nuts not to. Am I right? I used the scraper primarily for the glue drops and the extra cove that sat proud. The random orbit palm sander / vacuum cleaner combo worked well for the lions share of the fairing. You don't have to get it perfect, but close helps.

 Mix up some thickened fairing putty and fillet the stems and any sharp corners. I used my finger in the nitrex glove to get the radius, and when I put the glass in, it lay down perfectly. You may need to cut your glass if it doesn't cooperate at the stems, but it wasn't a problem for me. 

There are basically two thickeners you will use. Micro balloons are made from quartz and will tend to flow out at almost any mixture. You will also need fine silica powder. It is extremely lightweight, and will bring the epoxy to any consistency. Mixed with the micro balloons, it is an awesome filleting compound. By itself, silica is great for any thing that needs to be glued and faired in one shot. I used it on the combing, the skeg box, plant ons and even small epoxy plugs in the stem tips to support the rope dowels. The thickeners do not wet out transparent, so whatever your epoxy color, it will be cloudy. West System 206 is white and 207 is lemon yellow. Kind of like frothy piss. Almost.

Now it's time to spread the epoxy. Mix up a beer cup full and start in the middle by pouring the epoxy along the keel line in a puddle. Your trusty squeegee thingy will draw the goo up the sides and wet out the glass. Now don't move too quick or your will force air into the cloth and it looks bad. Personal foul Landreth. The real problem is the damn glass floating on the damn resin and if you don't keep going back and squeegeeing it smooth, the glass floats and you get a lumpy finish. You may also get air bubbles that will miraculously appear out of your staple holes. They will creep in and if you don't catch them, you will have a small void under your cured glass and that is not good. Getting epoxy into those voids after the fact isn't easy, boy-o. Drilling a teeny tiny hole and squirting in epoxy is a plan, but how you do that is up to you. I haven't actually attempted that repair yet. Maybe tomorrow. 

When the epoxy gets to the almost completely gelled stage, trim off any excess with a razor knife cutting against a steel putty knife or a plastic squeegee thingy. I didn't do that on the deck when I glassed it, and what a pain in the ass that was. I really can't stress the importance of trimming before your second coat. Fiber glass cloth is really glass. Honest. It can be as sharp as hell when it is stiff with epoxy. REAL sharp. There was blood and everything.

A second coat is a good idea if you want a really tough and heavier boat. The more epoxy, the more weight. 

Fillet the cockpit recess on the deck before begin with the cloth.

The inner deck is the smallest surface area and the easiest to glass. Pour epoxy from a beer cup again, and be extra careful not to drink any epoxy because you momentarily forgot what was in your favorite plastic container. That wouldn't be good. Keep an eye on things as the resin cures. The glass may want to lift in the cockpit recess area. 

It will feel at this point that you have almost completed your construction. I'm here to tell you that you are so very wrong to assume that assumption.

Bwa Ha Ha Ha Ha!!!!!

Build the deck, I dare you.

So, suffice it to say, if you don't have someone who is an epoxy expert to hold your hand through your first epoxy ordeal,you may be hooped. Some people live after going over the falls in a barrel. You may also. 

Now you must build the deck. How you accomplish this is your choice. Isn't that helpful? That was my feeling exactly. Some folks want to get arty at this point with all kinds of curves and and color changes. Others want to do the staple-less thing. I myself just wanted to get the first boat built with out it being too ugly. 

I scratched my noggin for a few days and decided to start with a central strip, and work towards the shears. My problem was in the fact I did not continue my shear strips to meet at each end. What I did was to bring the centre strip right to the ends and it was a serious pain in the butt to get the shear strips right. I had to get creative with filler pieces to solve the problem. It all sands out in the end if you are patient.

 

I secured the centre strip to the stations by drilling a small hole above each station and using a skewer to pin the strip into it. This was aided by my self leveling laser which made for a dead straight line. It doesn't always go so smooth, believe me. The strip was a nice bright piece of spruce which had the cove ripped off. The bead stuck upwards and helped define the break line for sanding. I used some of the dark chocolate colored cedar for one strip each side of the centre, then used a two white spruce strips on each side of that. It makes for a nice racing stripe. Even though the centre strip is a serious pain with the shears, it sure looks cool to have that thin white line come right to the very ends of the deck. The shears are regular cedar color for two strips, and then I added a strip with the cove cut square. I then worked from the centre to the shears, and mitered to the square edge. This is so much easier than trying to shape a matching bead by hand. It looks much better, too.

Because the deck is flatter than the hull, there weren't any radical bends to make, but things did get a bit tight at the very ends. I used a lot of clamps at the bow point, and used painters tape to assist with the clamps. I use the plastic version of a pony clamp that I buy on sale at my local Chinese hardware.  And with this I mean a large hardware store where everything is made in China, but run by local folks. We will crush the running Imperial dog with our manufacturing might! I digress. The plastic clamps have two different clamping strengths, depending on the springs. Some are very strong and some aren't. How technical of me. Anyway, plan on buying a few hundred thousand of these cramps as they are cheap, and you can never have too many.

I was feeling cocky as I zoomed through stripping the deck. A little voice in the back of head asked if this was the wisest approach. I ignored the little voice, and for this I must pay. Not every hand shaped bead was a success. In fact not even one. There was a disturbing amount of gaps where I thought I had made the bead and cove mate, but apparently didn't. A couple of miters weren't really miters. And I thought for sure I had left enough length in all the strips that ended over the cockpit. I hadn't. I had to join a few strips together and fill in a few blanks because I wasn't paying enough attention. It's probably a good thing that I don't work in a nuclear facility of any kind. Any who, It looked like I was going to have another filler lesson. 

I failed horribly at filler. I filled most of the holes and gaps, but I can't color match to save my life. I think I actually highlighted the staple holes. All my filler went a very dark, almost black in a soul sucking way you might imagine a black hole to be. I myself have grown to love the holes in only that way a parent could love a convicted serial killer. A disappointment I'm bound to get past. In time.

Sanding the deck fair was much easier than the hull. The tricky parts were the ends. I actually removed a lot of wood in the stern to correct for a couple of low spots, and I may beef up the interior with an extra piece of glass. The cockpit recess was hard to level, and I had to go a bit farther down than I wanted. I was sure I had done a better job at keeping the recess consistent, but two strips slipped a bit low, and the whole thing was affected. Live and learn, I suppose. I made a single bad saw stoke at the peak of the recess cutout, and had to find a way to cover my mistake. I took a square strip of dark cedar, and cut it in to fit on end. I carefully cut the first recess strip to accept it and when it was cut flush, it made a little brown diamond that ties the centre stripe into the recess pinstripe. An error turned into a nice little detail. 

 

Before I knew it, it was epoxy time again. Sigh. I masked off the edges like recommended. I think I used too much tape. I didn't discover this until it was way past too late. Another sigh. It's really hard to dig tape out of epoxy thats is many layers deep. What a mess it can make.

I spread the cloth out carefully, and started spreading the epoxy. It seemed to go well. This was to try to lull me into a false sense of security. Where the epoxy has to break over an edge like the cockpit recess, it is important to check the cloth frequently while the epoxy gels because it tends to want to lift, and if it gels and sets, you will need the sand out the lump and it will be not much fun. Maybe none. I discovered that the hard way, me. The gel up process  is really important to get your head around. You can level and fill at this stage quite effectively, but your window isn't that large. I like to leave a bit of epoxy in the bottom of the cup that I can dig out at this stage. It is quite thick, and spreads slowly, so be careful. I imagine when you've done a few more boats, you'll get the hang of it. It is still beyond me, but with patience, you will get acceptable results. I promise. 

When I felt I had enough coats of epoxy to sand off, I let it cure and then popped the deck off the mold. This was a little tricky as the stems didn't want to let go right away. The mold release tape on the stems helped. I hung the deck up from the ceiling with cloth straps, and contemplated the inside of the hull.....

Dante's Epoxy

If you have never worked with epoxy, here are a few things you should know. It is very expensive. It requires a whole bunch of plastic tools that are flexible enough for epoxy the break off of once it's dry. It will ruin your clothes when you get it on your self. Not if, when. Once you start putting it on, you are committed to finishing as many coats as you hope to apply. This can take a few days. Seriously. Depending on a bunch of factors like temperature, humidity and which hardeners you use, you can blow a weekend trying to re- apply as your gel up time ends. It's like climbing a mountain. After the exciting part, you have to climb down. But with out the word exciting. Ever been divorced? You lived through that, you can live through this.

Once you get up the nerve to start, make sure you use a tack cloth before you lay out the glass. Here is where you you might want to use a cheap sacrificial brush. Some recommend a foam brush or roller, but they will introduce too much air into the cloth. You don't want to pour the epoxy at this point, either. If you've never done this, you will likely pour too much and the glass will float on the resin, and a lot will drip off. Start in the middle of the boat and work towards the stems doing one side at a time. Work fast, but try not to work up a lather in the resin. You want the epoxy to soak into the glass, but with out too much excess. This is really tricky at first. You will have to squeegee off the excess once you've completed the first coat, so try not put it on too thick. Make sure you keep an eye where you've been, and add epoxy to resin starved areas. If you can see the glass as white, you need a bit more. The squeegee or plastic applicator or spreader or thing-me or whatever you choose to call it will be a tool you will need to become one with as you continue in boat land. This little fella will set the standard to how much sanding you will need to do. Good luck with that.

To be honest, I did not really get the hang of it right off. Not even close. The kids would say I was pwnd by the epoxy, but thats silly. There aren't even any consonants in pwnd. I was out matched. Defeated almost. I probably sanded off more epoxy than I put on, which is impossible, but I probably did anyway. It's my story, so shut up. I added a strip of 9 ounce tape down the length as an abrasion strip. I didn't know I had purchased 9 ounce tape and it doesn't wet out very well. I was not impressed by this fact, so be warned. If you put it on, you will see it. You will also see that you didn't get it exactly straight, too. I hate being reminded that I screw up. Often. The other problem I had was low spots. What I didn't figure out at this point was epoxy is workable for a long time. As it gels up, you can keep leveling it. Sags can be smoothed out, hollows raised, and drips and ridges flattened. This can be as much as six to eight hours after application. It can also be 2 or 3 hours after application. It depends and the aforementioned conditions. Why should it be easy for you? But you will prevail or you will suck. One of the two. Once you have started to sand and you find all your imperfections as shiny spots, make sure you rough up said shiny spots, or your next filler coat will not bond. You probably won't know this until you hit a rock while paddling and the epoxy de-laminates. Sanding is required to get a good mechanical bond between the cured and un-cured epoxy.

How fair the hull will be is up to you. If you did good carpentry, and everything is straight, the likely hood of a fair hull is promising. If not, you will probably end up paddling in circles. That won't be good.

Stripping the rest of the hull

     I was glad that I could solve my bulge problem. The technique was something I did while repairing stringed musical instruments.  Heat, water, steam and lots of clamps. I wasn't always so successful, but I didn't coat them with glass and epoxy when I was done, either. 

    I continued stripping the hull till I got up to the end of the stern stem. At this point, I just worked one side, and let the strips drift over the center line. I planned on inserting a center stripe so I wouldn't have to miter each piece. This turned out to be a time saver. One point for me. I stripped the other side, measured very carefully, cut a slight taper, and then inserted my brown/white/brown/white/brown half inch wide stripe.  Very Gibson guitar-ish, if I do say. I very carefully aligned the slot and still managed to get the stripe ever so slightly off center on the last 4 feet or so. I have no idea why.

   Actually, I know perfectly  well, why. But I'm not going to tell you. You can use your imagination. It'll be fun.

   At this point, I'll make a little confession. It's good for the soul, I'm told. Here it is. There are times when I have to put down the tools and walk away from the boat.

   It happens with alarming regularity. 

   It's because I'm experienced enough as a carpenter to know when I'm in hopelessly over my head. Crying usually precedes this. 

   When the bulge appeared, I had to walk away from the boat and think that baby through. When the bulges appeared that I'm a bit ashamed to talk about, I had to walk away and brood a tad. Time was lost not ruining the boat, which is good thing. 

   Now it was time to set the outer stems in place. All the building manuals I read treated this with one or two brief paragraphs such as," now install the outer stems and fair into existing strips." Easy.

    Not. Not easy. No. Scary hard I think.

   There wasn't one online or otherwise builder who suggested that if this stage of the build wasn't done correctly, you might as well quit. Or burn it and then quit. Or kill yourself, burn it, and quit. Maybe a viking funeral in the neighbors pool. That would teach that smug bastard. 

   But I digress.

   The point I'm trying to make is, installing the stems is very intimidating because if you screw it up, you're effectively hooped. And that is exactly as it sounds. Hooped.

    The stems in question were made from strips of mahogany laminated over the stem forms. There is an inner and outer stem. This was my first epoxy job. It was rather messy. I thought at this stage that epoxy was a learning curve not as easy as 'squeeze out equal amounts and we'll glue Mama's hand gun back together', easy. I bought a bunch of latex gloves, and that was a smart thing. But that was the extent of smart for some time, let me tell you. I now own a whack of clamps that are covered in epoxy. Needlessly and cruelly, I might add. This wasn't boding well for someone who's next epoxy job was to drench the hull in the stuff. Ha!  

   So I finally got up the courage and epoxied those bad boys in place. The stern stem was a very delicate 'letting in'. I had to cut a stem shaped slot and then get it perfectly flat and stem shaped. I really took my time on this operation. I also have a Japanese 1/2 inch chisel that is sharper than snot, and facilitated the flattening of the stem slot. 

   Did I mention good tools help? No?

   Well they do.

   The bow stem was a walk in the park by comparison.

   So now the raw stems were solidly in place, and I had to shape them into graceful, flowing things. One chance or go home, Smokey. I admit I chickened out for a day or two months. But I jumped in and I was brilliant. I can't put it any simpler. I amazed even me. The stems became the boat as if by magic. Tears were flowing down my cheeks as I smiled like a cherub turning it's little face to heaven and saying "Look God, look at me plane and sand and shape this magnificent thing!"

       Then the doctor tweaked my medication, and I finished sanding the hull.

    Well, I filled the hull first. All the gaps, staple holes, screw ups, etc. Getting a nice consistent wood colored filler wasn't easy. I use sawdust and water putty, and I like to use more sawdust than putty. It sands easier and water putty is always the wrong color. Always. Other people may be able to blend filler that you can't see, but not me. And I'm ok with that. Really. Filler is the part of the relationship where you say," sure I screwed up, but we got all this time invested, and everyone loses if you whine, so shut up and be a boat."

   Bi-aaach!    

   

   Now, fair the hull. I used my fairing boards that were 50 and 80 grit belt sander belts cut into one long strip and mounted on eighth luan mahogany plywood and three eighths wiggle wood respectively. Wiggle wood is awesome and not easy to find. And expensive. There is a bunch of scrap from a movie in my shop, so it was free for me. OOoooooh. Lucky me! 

Fairing is zen like. Don't use a belt sander. And if you do, don't plug it in. 

You go until you think you're done. Depending on how high your standards are will determine how close you come to sanding through the boat. I was pleased with the results. I went over the whole hull with my 5 inch random orbit palm sander. This is a wonderful little tool. It's a DeWalt, and I plug the shop vac into it and it's almost dustless.  Noisy, but that's what iPods are for. Being louder than power tools. Any way, I finished at about 120 grit with the DeWalt and was ready for glass. 

Mortified

Mortified.

 As if.

 But I was at loss on how to correct my error. I thought maybe spritzing it with lots of water and applying the heat gun to make the glue flexible and then re-stapling the strips into place. This isn't exactly what I did, as I needed more persuasion than staples. 

I built a 2 x 2 frame over the problem areas and mounted threaded flanges to the frame. I threaded long stove bolts into the flanges and I positioned the bolts to point perpendicular to the hull above the stations. I cut cauls from maple to match the desired curve, and used a forstner bit to drill a pocket for the head of the stove bolt.. After soaking the hull, applying heat and waiting for the glue to soften, I cranked down the stove bolts until the strips were flush again. Two sessions at the salon repaired the error. The strips opened up a bit and filler was required, but the problem was solved. Here's a picture of the rack in action... 

You gotta start somewhere

The Redfish ' King ' is an asymmetrical hull. The cockpit is a bit further back and the boat is widest just behind the seat. The stern is shorter and tighter than most symmetrical hull kayaks. I can't tell you the significance of this, but I'm almost positive it has to do quick turning and maybe a little less weather cocking. Somewhere online is the breakdown about the basic hull shapes. Guillemot or Bjorn Thomasson . This will be a very important fact to remember.

So I built the strong back. It is an external version that Joe at Redfish uses and it seems to lend itself to multiple builds. I really like Joe's designs, but he doesn't get into a whole lot of details in his manual. This is too bad, because he seems to have some great ideas. But One Ocean has a really detailed site, and Bjorns is good, too. They go into construction details that Joe only touches on. Dick Schade at Guillemot sells you his book along with the plan, or you can pick it up at your favorite big box book store. Or not. In truth, they all have good manuals, but if you read them all, you will have a pretty good understanding. When it comes time to squeeze out the glue, some details are forgotten. You will pay for these little transgressions. Ha ha on you.

They all say to build your strong back perfectly straight and level . This is pretty good idea, but ultimately, level is the important one as far as I can see. When the stations are attached to the upright boards at their required distance from each other, it will be necessary to align all the stations plumb and square. And you should constantly measure the distance between the stations to make sure this doesn't get away from you. Even an eighth of an inch will screw things up, especially if you're close to the bow or stern. I know this one from experience, and the experience sucked.

Leveling the stations without a self leveling laser must be difficult. If the plan has any rocker at all, you can't sight down the center lines on the stations for the whole length of the boat. Pulling a line taught is really good idea for the center line, but the horizontal level is not nearly so easy. I use lasers because they work very well, they can self level if you spend the cash, and because I like to work in the dark with giant red glasses on. Seriously, I can't stress the laser enough. Although, people have been building straight boats for a long time, so it can be done. And when the batteries are out of reach, I'm hooped.

Securing your strong back to the floor is really good idea if you are a klutz like myself, and prone to bumping into things. You can hyphenate a string of curses when you kick a leg of the strong back after 2 hours of leveling. You also learn to tap the strong-back into line the same way. The ' King ' has rather up swept ends, and you need to take this into consideration when setting the stations. Make sure you leave enough overhang on the front or you might have to cut it off later. Like I did.

So now you have all your wood cut and numbered and quivering with anticipation at the prospect of becoming a thing of beauty instead of fence around a McDonald's dumpster. You have your stations leveled and all at attention. The fairing boards are made, the glue is in the bottle, you have staples in the gun and are ready to start. Do you have any idea what you are getting your self into? I think not.

First you attach the internal stems to the bow and stern forms. I use inch and a half number 6 screws for this and will remove them as I reach them with the strips. Draw you lines for center and leave at least 1/4 inch down the middle to remain flat. This imperative for the later attachment of the outer stem. Don't bevel the stem yet, as the angle will change as you strip up towards the keel. Don't you just love these nautical terms?

I was lucky to have picked a few winners in the board department. I had one board that was a deep chocolate brown it's whole length. Apparently the dark wood gets that way from being close to or right along the coast. I didn't know that either. I also found some clear spruce for a fraction of the cost of the cedar. I found it at Home Depot where I have dug through all sorts of lumber to find the odd single prize. I bet they love me. I decided for a stripe right right off the hop, so I stapled the first chocolate brown shear board with the cove pointing down and a flat edge on top. Next I glued a 1/4/ inch by 1/4 inch white spruce strip along the shear. Then another chocolate strip with one flat edge and the cove pointing up. I have the bevel started on each stem and I commenced in stripping the remaining dark brown boards until I ran out. This gave me a bout a six inch wide stripe of brown with a single white pin stripe. I then continued with much lighter cedar that had stray flames of dark brown at the stern. I should have wet each board before I laid them at this stage as I think I could lined up the flames a tad more pleasingly. But I did not, and therefore things are not as pleasing as they could have been. Ask me If that bothers me. I dare you.

I was feeling pretty cocky along about now. Dick Schade suggests cheater strips and gives a bunch of examples of how to do them. Joe also thought they might be a good idea. I tried to make one, thought better of the idea, and decided to forge ahead without them. How hard could it be, really?

Well, pretty hard as it turns out.

Making the transition from vertical to horizontal at the bow was not really a problem because of the long bow lines of this asymmetrical boat. Remember when I said to remember? Well the transition from vertical to horizontal at the stern happened over about 24 inches and the board was curving to follow the hull plus sweeping upward. This is a lot to ask of a cedar strip even after it has been steamed within an inch of it's life. The end result was a bulge in the hull on both sides that wasn't even close to symmetrical and the strips lifted off two stations in a few spots. This error was over the course of about 4 boards. When I realized what I had done, I was mortified. Truly.

Ripping the strips

Whoever said that ripping and milling the strips would take an afternoon is the same guy when asked if the water is cold, says " the waters beautiful!"

Dork.

If you start your afternoon at around seven AM and end when you're done the next day, maybe. These folks must love to lie. It's just around the corner, you'll see. You can't miss it. It must be a seriously twisted puppy to want to lead some poor, unsuspecting moron into the depths of strip ripping hell. As an experienced carp, even I knew glue vapors permeated this ridiculous assumption. At $3.95 a linear foot for 1 by 6 cedar, you don't want get it wrong or rush through it.

Heres a couple of tips that I didn't find on line, but relate to table saw use. You can use a standard ripping blade, but it will have an eight inch kerf. You can use a thin kerf ripping blade at 3/32. The thinnest saw blade you can find is a 7 and a quarter thin carbide tipped thing for about 15 bucks. 24 teeth should do it. All blades will run truer if you try to find oversized blade stiffeners. I use a device called a blade truing disc that is no longer available from Lee Valley. Too bad, 'cause it works like charm. It is a disc with about 8 pug screws it that push on the body of the blade and bring it back into true. You need a dial gauge micrometer and about 45 minutes to set it up correctly, but it's worth the effort. Seeing as it is now currently made of unobtainium, I'm really just gloating, because, like, I got one and you don't. In truth, the super thin kerf blade didn't do so well. I liked the idea of loosing less wood because of the tiny kerf, and I also had been advised that this would work well from a trusted if somewhat misguided associate carpenter. I will use my brand new Freud thin kerf ripping blade with the 3/32 tooth width on the next sawdust making session. That will be thin enough. The thinner 7 and 1/4 inch blade had the tendency to follow the grain when things got twisted or the grain got weird and I think it may have heated up as I got near the end of twenty foot rip. I ended up with the odd thin board and this is a nightmare come fairing time. Consistent strip thickness is imperative. This is now some thing I know from experience, I'm afraid to say.

Another good idea is to build a feather board with about 5 - 1 inch rare earth magnets. It sticks like bugger and can re adjusted with the tap of a mallet, even when the saw is running. ( blade guard removed for clarity ) Feather boards or some kind of hold down is good on the fence, too. I built a birch plywood extension cap for my fence, and screwed strips to it to pin down the boards. A thin splitter mounted into a purpose built zero clearance insert into the table is a great idea, too. I used maple for the splitter and MDF for the insert. Try to cut from one side of the board to the other in order. Number each piece so you can sequence the boards if desired. Trust me on this one. If you have to flip a board over, make sure your marking system reflects this. Each board gets a letter. Each strip gets a number. If you flip the board, add a letter 'R' indicate cutting from the other side. If you have warped boards, which strangely enough can happen, I recommend a dry run to see if you can force the boards flat. If not choose from the following ideas. You can face the board cup down and start ripping while applying pressure. You will probably end up with some pieces that are less than perfect over their length, but with useable bits. You can face the cup up and try to force it flat while trying to keep the edge square to edge of the fence. This will not be successful and wasted material will ensue. Because warped means twisted, twisted is usually cupped. I always find that cup down is better. If both of these axis' are seriously wonky, try ripping that baby right up the middle making it easier to muscle flat, or try cutting out the twist if possible. The twist is sometimes just at one end. If you're lucky. If it's summer and hot and sunny, soak the board down, put it out in the sun and weight it down flat. Rinse, repeat. Presto. Straight board. It was february in Winnipeg when I ripped the boards. No straight boards for me.

It really helps to have at least one smooth face to start with. In the ripping process, this isn't crucial, but in the routing stage, it is. A small surface planer can make all the bad dreams go away. If the surface of the board is rough, it will not mill true. The thin strips are harder to control and you don't want the router to take off too much wood, so you will have to set the bit to take the shallowest bite. This is where the rough surface can mess you up. You don't want to make more than one pass over the bit per strip. A rough surface on the board becomes the edge on the strip, and even a little bounce will reflect in the milling. Hold downs and featherboards are a must in this operation, and another good idea is to under cut a featherboard by 1/4 inch and place it immediately behind the router bit.The undercutting will pin the strip to the table and to the fence simultaneously. Route the bead first in all your strips. If you have a few lengths of scrap maple, cut some hardwood strips, too. When you are ready to mill the coves, do a strip of maple first. I use the cove in the maple strip as a guide for the cedar along the router fence. This is where you can set the fence to allow the cove cutter to size each following strip to a consistent width. This is very important for symmetry, grasshopper. And it almost works, too!

Bursting the bubble

I started researching on line. I knew I liked the lines of the greenland style boats, so I decided to find a handful of designers who were having good luck, and start with some tried and true designs. I settled on 4 similar boats thinking that I would probably learn more about the subtleties of the craft than 4 entirely different boats. I also figured if I got stuck with too many boats, I had better like them. A solid marketing plan if I do say so.

I ordered plans for a Guillemot 'Night Heron', a One Ocean 'Expedition', a Redfish 'King' and Bjorn Thomasson 'Hunter'. I started a file on related websites and found that people really do blog about everything. The hard part is seeing who actually knows anything.

Just because you know JAVA, FLASH and HTML, doesn't mean you actually know boat building. This was an early enlightenment. Just because someone makes a pretty web-page doesn't mean they are actually human. Consider Myspace. There was one bit where the builder said, don't worry about that glue dripping down in long lines, it will come off later. No mention of a wet rag to mop it off, or possibly of using a tad less glue or that fact that the shear strength of the glue is greater than the shear strength of all soft woods and most hardwoods. Who is this mental giant? As the blog wore on I could see that the project was not going well. Not our intrepid builder though, he soldiered on. The final pictures were kinda special, in that he looked rather terrified to be in the boat.

But there are also many really great resources out there, too. One Ocean has a fabulous construction guide chock full of great ideas. All the above mentioned designers have some sort of website with some being far more extensive than others. Each one offers some unique construction tips, and a thorough search is advised. If there is one thing I know for sure; in carpentry, there are many solutions and approachs to each construction problem. I always look for the elegant way. ( read quick, slick and easy ) In my research, I found some long time builders that have streamlined their techniques and details. Some guys gloss over filleting details where some obsess. There are great ideas about stapeless construction, and some great hardware/hatch solutions. Everyone has a different idea what is correct, so use an open mind to absorb all ideas and sort through what seems right for you.

I settled on building the Redfish King first because I like his external strong back technique and it lends it self to multiple builds where as internal spines can be very boat specific. I built my strong back to heavier standards with this in mind, and with 4 supports to aid in leveling and staying level. I'll let you know this works out.

Purchasing the supplies was far easier than I anticipated, although the cost wasn't. I found a supplier of 20 foot clear cedar boards. I found a Marine repair supplier for glass and epoxy. All here in the true north. I ordered a rudder kit from One Ocean, and if I can't find a minicell foam supplier, I'll order a seat from Redfish.

I built all the sections for the strong back, and put them in a pile. I then built a few fairing boards out of eighth inch and quarter inch Luan plywood. I also made one out of three eighths wiggle wood. This turns out to be the best one. I use the cheapest, biggest belt sand paper that I can find from the chinese import hardware store. 50, 80 and 120 grit. Next I constructed 16 feet of out feed table to sit on my sawhorses for the ripping process.

A word about my shop. It is L shaped with the short leg being 10 by 16. The long leg with the door to lean-to shed open, is 42 feet. Just enough room with my table saw and router table set up in the middle. There is no direct entrance either. That means the 20 foot boards had to come in a second storey window and angle down to the first floor shop. The structure I live in is half gutted, which means that half of the half storey floor is gone. Which is kinda like an atrium. The fire inspector was slack jawed. I'm not thinking about getting the boat out at this point because it hasn't been built. Sound logic.