Sanding

I started sanding the boat on the aft port side so I could get a closer look at the caulk lines under the paint. As I mentioned earlier, there is an angle that is sharper than I would like just in front of the transom to port. I attached 40 grit paper to my random orbit sander and got to work. In about 3 hours I was able to finish the aft port side of the boat above the water line. The paper cuts very well, but I have to be very careful to keep the sander flat and moving so I don’t cut into the wood beneath. At this point I sand until I get the majority of paint off. I’m not trying to remove all the paint because I’m using such an aggressive grit and removing all the paint would require me to spend too much time in one place. I’ll remove the remainder with finer grits of paper.

The paint may contain lead so I picked up a respirator (who wants to breathe lead? Not me.). That coupled with eye and ear protection puts me in a bubble that just leaves me alone with my thoughts. I’ve found that I really don’t mind the process, but I wouldn’t want to do it if I didn’t like who I was with. I’ve split the boat into 8 sections so I’ll have a manageable job to complete each time I sand. The first section took about three hours to sand. The second section took about six hours to sand...I don't think I split the boat very evenly. About halfway through the second bout of sanding I decided to try something to speed the process. I don't mind sanding, but getting the job done to the same quality with higher speed is always preferable. I picked up a propane blowtorch and scraper to melt/scrape as much paint off as I could. I got started on the bow/starboard/above waterline section that I was working on and finished the section in two hours, one hour for scraping and one hour for sanding. All in all, it cut the paint stripping time in half, a time savings I will take.

Now, I have to say I was concerned about taking a blowtorch to a wood boat covered with flammable paint. However, books told me that it was perfectly acceptable and could be used with success if proper care and precaution were taken. That may be the case, but as I stepped up to the boat with fire extinguishers ready and NASA alerted, I thought about what would happen if the boat burned down. There would be no way that I would come out of that situation looking sane. My friends and family already think I'm a little off since I bought a boat full of holes. But if I told them I had tried to fix the boat with a blowtorch and was surprised when it burned to the ground, I would be institutionalized. So with visions of Nurse Ratched in my head, I made a tentative blowtorch swipe across the hull. Nothing happened. I went back over the paint a little slower, and the paint bubbled up a little. I attacked the bubbles with the scraper and...the paint came off! The process worked! After a bit of trial and error, I finally developed a rhythm and the paint began falling away from the hull in sheets.

I found that heating about 8 inches of the hull the width of the scraper and then scraping the paint off worked well. I turned the torch off about every ten minutes to let it cool and to sharpen the scraper. By keeping a wide file in my pocket and pulling it across the blade every ten minutes, I was able to keep the scraper relatively sharp. It's really quite remarkable how quality and speed deteriorates when the scraper loses its edge. It amazes me how sharp tools really make working with your hands enjoyable. A sharp tool will glide across a wood surface, but a dull one will fight you every step of the way.

Ablative paint over tar/portland cement caulking was used below the waterline and I used the blowtorch method on the first eight inches of that section. This section of the hull did not melt well and simply gummed up the scraper. I suspect this is because ablative paint is made with copper and designed to flake away relatively easily. Because of this, I abandoned the blowtorch and simply scraped below the waterline. I had to sharpen the scraper more frequently and sanding was a must, but this process was more effective than sanding alone. When I ventured below the waterline with sandpaper alone I found that the paper gummed up completely after approximately one square foot.

Thus far, I have fully stripped the port side and scraped the starboard side. Hopefully, I'll be able to sand the starboard side this weekend.

Once I got down to wood on the port side, I stepped back and looked at the caulk seams where I saw the hard chine aft to port, and sure enough, the caulk line in question was wider than I would like. It looks like I’m going to have to pull the diesel tanks out of the stern to get a closer look at the frames. Seam, wider than normal

First projects

Once I got the boat on blocks the first order of business was to build a shelter that would allow me to work on the boat in inclement weather. For the initial work I constructed a quick A-frame which sits on the deck and allows me to work on deck and inside the boat. The summers are beautiful in Washington so I won’t need a more substantial shelter until September.

The A-frame cover for the boat. I have ~ 4 ft of headroom underneath.

I’ve found that I generally work on the boat in the evenings after my daughter goes to bed. Because of this I must keep any noise to a minimum, which means I can’t do anything that doesn’t involve hammers or power tools. For my first task I decided to clean the interior of the boat so I could determine what work is most critical and to look for any more repairs that I will have to factor into the refit. This meant cleaning the bilges to locate the keel bolts under the years of grime that had accumulated under the floors. Fortunately, my neighbor’s son, Nathan, came over to see what I was doing with the boat and when I told him I was cleaning the bilge he was very interested to see what that entailed. Well, cleaning a bilge is exactly as glamorous as it sounds but he wasn’t deterred so I grabbed him a brush and we got to work. There were two main discoveries from the binge cleaning. The first, and good news, is that the garboards are in great shape. The second, and not so good news, is that while we were able to locate the four keel bolts, the heads have rusted off of three of them. So new keel bolts will be needed. In my initial survey of the boat I had been able to locate 2 of the bolts (or what was left of them) so I knew there was some work to be done. This just confirmed my suspicions.

I expect that cleaning and dismantling the interior to look for needed repairs will be more gloom and doom than any other part of the process because this is where I’ll be able to access every section of the hull. I’ll finally get a full count of the frames/planks that need to be fixed and any other repairs that need to be made.

Cabinets removed- looking forward

Cabinets removed- looking aft

Before I get started on the major repair work I need to get as much out of the boat as possible so I can get to as many frames as possible. I started by removing the starboard cabinets and vee-berth frame. The cabinets were very well made and resisted my efforts to extricate them from their home, but I finally prevailed. It was especially critical to remove these cabinets because they covered the location of the original leak which forced the boat from the water. It looks like I will need to replace three frames on the starboard side. I could sister the frames but this would simply keep the problem from getting worse. I would really like to address the cause of the leak, which means full frame replacements. It will take a little more work, but it will result in a stronger hull, which helps me stave off nightmares of sinking boats. Anyway, because all the starboard furniture is removed, now is the time to replace the frames. I decided to leave the port settee in place because it gives me a place to sit while I work below, and I can access the frames by simply removing the top board. It looks like there is one frame that needs to be replaced in the main cabin on the port side. I can't say anything about the frames aft of the main cabin because I haven't gotten a good look at them yet. I suspect there may be two or three broken frames on the port side aft of the cockpit as there is a chine that is harder than it should be in that location. For my next effort I expect to get started on the engine and sanding.

The boat and trip home

This is a blog about the restoration of an Ed Monk designed 1947 24 ft. wood sloop. Vic Franck, the owner of the Vic Franck boatyard in Seattle built her for his honeymoon cruise. Her original name was "Wee Two" but she now sports the moniker "Inca". I purchased the boat from an individual on Lopez Island, off the coast of Washington. He sailed her for ten years until she sprung a leak and was hauled out. She sat on the hard for ten years until the owner, who could not stand to see her rot away put her up for sale. I found her and purchased her...the story with me begins from there.

Some pictures of the boat as I found her.

I’ve been looking for a classic wood sailboat restoration project for several years. I generally go to websites and drool over the photos of exquisitely fitted yachts and to see if there are any boats that would be appropriate for an ambitious first timer’s restoration. I was looking for something in the neighborhood of 20-25 ft. I wanted something that would work for weekend trips for our family of three. Really, I think that size would work best because I can handle the restoration and it could hold a head, which would mean that my wife and daughter would be much more likely to join me on our trips. About two weeks ago I was looking at boat classifieds on craig’s list and one headline caught my eye. It said “Classic Wooden Sloop- Best Offer”. As it turns out, the boat was a 24 foot Ed Monk designed sloop built in 1947 which had been sitting in a field for 10 years.I looked at the four pictures on the website and was immediately smitten. The pictures showed a powerful bow that tapered into a slim wineglass transom. It’s a boat that could handle some heavy weather while looking good.Barely able to contain my excitement I called my wife to tell her about the find. She, of course, thought it was the worst idea I had ever had (I think she just doesn’t like the idea of a derelict sailboat sitting in our backyard for several years). So after some discussion she agreed and I went to make sure that the boat was something I could tackle.

I spoke with the owner and we agreed on a price ($250.00) provided that it was a project I could handle. The owner of the boat (which is currently named “Inca”) gave me a rundown of the boat and sent some pictures. Based on his description, it sounded like exactly what I wanted. Two hull planks need to be replaced, the cabin rebuilt, and the hull refastened (She was fastened with iron screws in 1947 and they all really should come out.). That makes three main projects…three big projects. Also, the engine is frozen and needs some attention. I’ll probably haul it out for something to work on over the winter. It’s a pretty simple 12 hp single cylinder Yanmar diesel so I’ll see if I can fix it; if not it will go to a professional. There are also a myriad of smaller projects which will also have to be addressed. The cabin is pretty bare and tired, but serviceable so that project will probably wait until we haul her out after the first season.

So I went out to the boat to make sure it was as the owner, Helmut, said it was. I was expecting the two boards to actually be ten and ribs/keel to be rotted out, but everything was exactly as Helmut said! (and he’s a great guy to boot). So I agreed to buy the boat and pick it up the next Saturday. The trip was a little tricky because the boat was on an island off the coast of Washington, which would be great if the boat floated, but it doesn’t. Also, the trailer was a bit strange. The bow overhung the trailer by four feet and had a full size front wheel so I would need a flatbed truck with a ball minimum 25 inches from the ground and 20 inches maximum to the bed. After several days of searching I was able to find one for rent, which let me sleep at night.

On the day of the pickup I took a ferry over to the island and because Helmut had spent some time securing the boat I was able to just hitch up the truck and make it back to the ferry for high tide (I wanted to do this to minimize the chance that Inca would contact the truck when boarding the ferry). I must say, the trip up north to Bellingham was a white knuckle affair. The tires hadn’t been driven on for ten years, and while they held air I was constantly worried that a tire was going to blow, giving me visions of a wood boat scattered all over the road. As a result, I drove the 60 miles to Bellingham at 25 mph, much to the consternation of the drivers behind me. I got lots of hand gestures, but I suspect it’s better than a boat falling on their car after a blown tire. I finally got the boat home and when I looked at the tires I was glad the trip ended when it did. The right rear tire was showing cracks in the tread so I got the trailer on blocks and won’t be driving it again until it has new tires.

Some pictures from the ferry ride over to the mainland

The dark marks on her hull aren't rotten wood. Some diesel leaked out of the fuel tanks...they will need some repair as well.

Finally home!

When I got back to the house my neighbor’s son was really interested in the boat so I invited him on board and let him poke around in all the corners. Then I convinced him that it would be fun to unload everything that wasn’t bolted down and he thought it sounded like a great idea (I definitely felt a bit like Tom Sawyer on that one). We got everything unloaded including the mast (which is a solid 35 ft piece of Sitka Spruce by the way!) and he went home for dinner while I sat in the boat cataloguing everything that needed to be done. I was about 20 minutes into that process when I started feeling rain. Pretty soon it was raining pretty hard and I was forced into the house.