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.
