At last . . .the professionals are here

 I finally started the sanding and priming of the deck but the weather’s not cooperating so it ain’t done.

However, today brought an amazing surprise.  Paul had said that the caulking master (apparently there was a caulking master in our midst and I did not know it) was going to come re-caulk Jeff Brown, but then I was told that he couldn’t make it, and besides, getting all that gunk out before stuffing new cotton back in would take too much time.  You will recall that when I reefed out the putty I was told to keep the cotton and oakum in, but when you do it right, you have to scrape all the crap out first before you can put in the cotton.  So we were just going to jam it all back in there and apply something called 5200, which as far as I can tell is a cross between Bondo and cement and long after the boat has rotted, the stuff will still be intact.

But then this morning, Jake showed up, from Bath, Maine (He grew up in Noank and worked at the Seaport), complete with his ancient tools, a bunch of good stories, and something he called “the Samurai reefing hook” which made my little hook (remember the “hoofpick?”) look like a Q-tip.  It had a curved handle that provides really good leverage so you just stick in in there and yank, and Bob’s your uncle--all the gunk comes out like buttah.

This is Jake’s little stool, that I think he said was his great-uncle’s.  It holds the tools and rocks back and forth so you can sit on it and maneuver along the keel fairly easily. On top of it is the cotton caulk and the hammers.

But since Jeff’s on a trailer, Jake had the devil of a time with the caulking hammers on the part of the seam that's in the middle.

Speaking of caulking hammers, they can make you deaf.  I don’t know how Jake did it all day, and it took about 8 hours—mostly because of that middle part where as you will recall I had twisted myself into a pretzel to get the old seam compound out.

Did you know that Dred Scott was a master ship caulker in the early 1800’s?  African Americans in the south were the only people who did caulking, because “no white man should touch cotton.”  Oy! So they got to be incredible caulkers.  And because the hammering was so rhythmic, many sang while they worked.  I wish there were some recordings of this but I couldn’t find any. The closest I came was a chain gang song called “Long John” which kind of matches the rhythm of the caulking hammers.  I wish I could find an actual recording of caulkers. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4G5KtQynWvc

Then it was time for the primer, which is a very festive orange color and is applied with a special brush, which they don’t make anymore but which Jake had in his box of tricks.   I believe that I will be in charge of seam cement, which comes next in a few days.  Jake had recommended roofing tar but Paul made a face, so seam cement it is.

Jake knew Uncle Jack, and had sailed on Jeff Brown years ago.  Imagine, spending 8 hours killing yourself out of reverence for an old boat and the guy who built it.

Totally cool.

Queen of the Parade

Paul says this year we should put Jeff in the Memorial Day Parade.  Which should be a hoot, since here the parade goes through the village, which consists of three streets, and people just march in it. Or run in it, or walk,  It’s pretty laid back.  I think there’s a fire truck.  And of course the Historical Society marches, so that’s why Paul wanted JB.  Bruce will pull it on the trailer.  It'll be festooned with bunting, I’ll bet.  Apparently Jeff Brown’s done the parade route before. But everyone who is not walking in the parade will be sitting in their lawn chairs at much closer than my “10-foot paint job” of last year. But there’s only a week to go and things have been slow with all the rain every weekend. 

Last week I tackled the bronze rubrail.

And for those of you who think that you can shine bronze, think again.  I tried everything: vinegar, salt, flour, ketchup, then back to straight vinegar, and while it got off a bit of the goo with a good scrubbing from bronze wool, it was right back again the next day, minus the green bits, which was what I really wanted to get off. 

Now, this year I have two tricks up my sleeve in re: Fooling the Public. One is the bizarre paint I got from the same hardware store guy who threw the bronze wool across the store when I asked him why it was better than steel wool if it was heavier grade.  He’s a bit of a drama queen.  But I told him what happened last year with the gold leaf that I used on the wood rubrail (turned to crap overnight, even after I varnished it) and he led me to an odd little item by Rustoleum called “hammered gold” which he used on his lawn furniture. Now, it turns out that when applied, the mottled patina of this paint almost matches the nasty-ass job I did on the bronze rubrail.

So I was so darned pleased with myself I painted the lower part of the bronze chainplates that hold the shrouds tight (they’d always been painted to match their topside color) plus the whatsis at the bow that holds the bowsprit on.
 

Should I look up what that term is?

Sigh.

Be right back.

Well, the closest I can find is a blog called “First Time Wooden Boat Builder—Sames Sound 12 1/2” by a guy named Paul in Ireland who is building a sailboat and he put in an eye bolt so he could pull the boat onto a trailer. You can see his fancy whatsis here.

But my whatsis does not hold the boat to the trailer, it is more like the stem chainplate for the . . . um . . . whisker shrouds? I think that's it. The bronze wires that attach to the bowsprit. Yup, I'm going for that.
.

This year, I fear that Jeff Brown will look like the maritime equivalent of a drag queen.

Line drawings, information, and my thoughts on bronze

Rain today, so not much work.  Yesterday I finished sanding the topsides, and re-fastened the bronze rubrail, so if it ever stops raining it's time to paint.  Soooo much easier than last year!  Dane stopped by to announce that he was on coat #3 of varnish on the bowsprit, and the mast was not far behind.  While it was just drizzling, and to stay warm, I got out the heat gun and took the paint off the bronze thingamabobs that hold the shrouds that hold the mast steady.  Hey, I’m amazed I got the term “shrouds” right. I’ll post a photo when I shine ’em up.  Chainplates, that’s what they are. I also want to do the round gizmo that holds the tiller in place.  It's got a lot of paint on it though. I know the bronze will tarnish right back up as soon as I'm done, but a nice, even patina is better than a paint-spattered, lumpy patina.

Here’s a little info on Jeff Brown (the original), from documents at the Noank Historical Society (actually I think it's Howard Chapelle's book).

 

As you can see from the line drawing, the cockpit has the curve facing the bow.  Uncle Jack always maintained that the drawing was backwards, and he made this Jeff Brown with the curve facing the stern, for ease of using the tiller.  It actually makes a lot more sense that way.

Also, our Jeffie's bowsprit does not curve down like the one in the drawing. 

Here’s the text (ignore the first paragraph):

 

That mast never looked so good

This past week brought a raft (get it?  A little nautical humor there) of activity both above and below the waterline. My part was rather icky and black-lung-inducing, since I was sanding and scraping the bottom (and topsides). The topsides are so much easier this year! Took Jeffie’s name off with the heat gun; now I have to order more letters.   

 

The bottom, however, is a nightmare.  I did not give it the attention it deserved last year.  So I am trying to be kind to it now. 

Got what’s called “hammered gold” paint for the wooden rub rail, which might be better than the horrid gold leaf that oxidized in 24 hours.  Hopefully this one (thank you, Rustoleum) will do better.

But above the deck we had the bleaching of the spars this weekend.  Break out the oxalic acid!  Unfortunately there are still some black spots, and the two-part bleach (or at least one that works) is nowhere to be found.  Hopefully the spots won’t be noticed much.

 

Here’s what Mr. “C. Ross” says about oxalic acid in the WoodenBoat forum in 2010:

“Oxalic acid's only function is to break down iron tannate - it does not take natural color out of wood cells, it does not break down cellular structure of wood, it does not remove pigments or stains. Two-part bleaches do, well, two things. Part one breaks open wood cells and part two destroys the coloration in the cell. They damage the cells as paladin says, but I'm not sure they go any deeper than a couple of layers of cells.”

Paul hates to have his photo taken.  But I wanted to catch him and Dane in the act, so there he is. Yes, the mast has a bit of a kink to it.  You would too, if you were that old.

He’s still quite prickly about this blog.  Airing dirty laundry and all.  He suggested, a bit snarkily, “Why don’t you write in your blog and see if anyone has any suggestions on where we can get two-part bleach?”

So all of you two (or possibly three) readers out there, let me know the right type of 2-part bleach that gets out the black stains, and do it by next week before Dane starts varnishing. Pleeeeeze!

Speaking of dirty laundry . . . a method that is being used to see if we can salvage the rotten part on the keel is supposed to be a secret, for some reason. It involves a bunch of holes being drilled, some tiny bronze brazing rods stuffed in the holes, and a lot of epoxy.  But I guess I should say no more! If it works, I’d pronounce it a genius idea.

Bad weather is not our friend

It's been 2 weeks with nothing that could be done to JB . . . except Dane has been busy in the shop, like I said, sanding down the mast.


That's it, hanging from Paul's ceiling

 Pretty, huh?  Imagine it all varnished--no more blotches--it'll be great!!!

Next up: Mr Bowsprit:

 

It was really windy today but I started sanding the topsides.  Paul says that it takes 3 years from taking a boat down to wood, for the paint to get to a point where the hull looks nice and smooth.  So this is year 2 and already I can tell the difference--this is so much easier than last year!

Mystic wooden boat show, here we come!  That is, if we get some decent weather and I can take the other half of the tarp off.

Reefing the garboard seam, or, "rank amateurs with sharp objects"

So Paul brought back all the old friends—the 3 sanders, the sandpaper, the scrapers . . . and two new visitors, called reefing irons.  Now you may think, friends, that I would instinctively know what to do with these things, but I assure you I did not. 

 




Here are my three new buddies. As you can see, it’s nothing but the most modern of equipment for me! On the left is my grandfather’s scraper, then what I call “the hoof pick," then what’s cleverly called the “reef hook.”  It has many interesting edges, and darned if all of them don't have a purpose—and I used ‘em all.

This is Jeff’s keel . . . looking okay from far away, but up close was another story.

At the end of the day, however, I had progressed from novice to acolyte, if only by virtue of being able to do the limbo under the axles of the trailer to twist my body into the right angle to whack the iron with the hammer and push the rubber caulk out of the seam.

Tapping away was rather satisfying, only Paul has implied that I have to get a flashlight and look to see if any more caulk is left there.  Then you have to scrape some more, which I did with what I began calling “the hoof pick,” because I cannot find what this particular one is called.   

 

And the internet is no help—do you know there is not one video about reefing?  Noooooo, only filling the nice, perfect seams with nice, perfect caulk.

I have no idea if I did this right.  I will have to wait for Inspection.

 “Don’t touch the cotton or the oakum,” Paul warned.  Two problems.  First, what the $#@! is oakum? It sounds like a nice warm breakfast beverage but it is not, oh no, it is in this case a mass of wet, stringy greenish-brown goo resembling what’s in the bottom of a hash pipe—not that I would know.

Second, the oakum at times was so close to the surface that chipping out the caulk means yanking out the oakum.  What to do?  Stuff it back in the hole? I know that cotton (which was also up there in spades) needs to be rolled, and then twisted just so, and pushed up with a talent reserved for only the virtuosos of the maritime repair world. But I confess, I just stuffed it back up there. However, I still don’t know how we are going to caulk this seam if oakum is level with the wood.  There’s just so much stuffing of that crap you can do after 50 years.

Did you know that a lot of prison labor in Victorian times included the making of oakum, or the separating of the strands of rope to create it?  Doesn’t seem so bad of a job—beats working on a chain gang—but I guess it was pretty nasty. Contemporary oakum is made from hemp or jute and usually has some type of tar on it.  But if my oakum had tar on it at one point, it has long since abandoned ship.

Anyway, this is what it looked like coming out of the seam of Jeff Brown.

 

What not to do: oakum wants to escape, but you must not let it.

Here’s a bit of what the crevices look like, post-reef.

I admit I did not do the greatest of jobs on the bottom last year—it really needs a good scraping. Well, cadal, cadal as they say in Kosovo (a land not known for boating); little by little.

Just found a YouTube video of what may lie in store for me, and I think I will take to my bed with the vapors:

Commodores Boats caulking garboard seam with hawsing iron and beetle

Shipwrights Terry & Dwight working on the classic tug "Viking King" owned by Harken Towing. Location "Shelter Island Marina" in Richmond BC Canada.

Just kill me now.

 

Jeff is in the house!

 Well, look who is back in my driveway.  Bruce trailered it over about five days ago, in the rain—and Bruce never works in the rain so I know he loves me (hey, it’s a stretch, but it could happen) and pronounced Jeff “better than last year,” which for him is high praise.  “Let’s work on keeping it from sinking this year” were his parting words. 

 

And in fact, non-sinking is our main concern this year—apart from re-sanding, painting the whole thing again, hoping rot didn’t set in somewhere new, and finding a nice gold paint that doesn’t oxidize the minute I put it on the rub rail.

There are several new challenges this year.  First of all, it is the Emma C. Berry’s 150^th birthday on June 5^th—Emma is the last smack sloop (fishing boat with a wet well) in existence, and Mystic Seaport is making a very big deal out of her birthday—as well they should. But Jeff Brown is also a smack sloop, along with Winsome, which was built a little after Jeff Brown—1970-ish.  And both Jeff and Winsome have been invited to float beside Emma at the Seaport during the Wooden Boat Show, which is one of the biggest deals for wooden boat lovers in the country.  

 

Here’s Winsome, in a 2006 photo by "Wildjack." You can see it has more cockpit space and a cabin--it actually is very cozy and has a head, and a bunk area.  And I got a lesson from Paul last year on what the bowsprits are called and let’s just say they are different. Winsome points down and Jeff Brown points slightly up.  You can guess where the naming headed . . . but who's cuter, really, huh, who?

But it is the last weekend in June, which means that we have to shake a tailfeather and get Jeff all un-sinkable and gorgeous by the end of June so that he is ready for his close-up as thousands stroll by the dock, or “smack alley” as we are calling it.

So apart from the sanding and re-painting, which will not be that bad this year, there is much to be done “below the waterline.”  Paul mentions epoxy in hushed tones and I suspect that gallons of it will be needed to be poured into holes in some dark reaches of the bilge (which is being kept covered to stay dry until that’s done) but as of now, that is above my pay grade.

I have been assigned to “reef out the garboard plank,” which is as you may imagine the first time I have ever typed that in a sentence.  We’ll see how that actually goes in practice tomorrow.

This year we have a new volunteer—Dane, who is great.  I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.  Actually, Dane is the master of masts, and is taking Jeff’s mast, boom, etc. down to bare wood so it can be completely re-varnished and doesn’t look like a pinto pony this year. He’s already sanded the mast and it is gorgeous. I have to take a photo of it—it’s in Paul’s barn.