Another Milestone

It’s coming up to 2 months since the kit arrived and we have at last made a couple of pieces that will form part of the boat itself. Plus we have all the bits to be shaped to make the rest of the hull.

We have been inventing techniques or adapting the skills handed down over generations to meet each challenge. Sadly, these skills come mainly from Joe’s Dad, so we are likely to be skiffing a massive egg rack down the Waikato in March.

This may not sound like spectacular progress, but we have a growing confidence in our decision making, as we have taken plenty of time over every single step of the way, never doing anything in haste and being careful to compensate for our natural aversion to a meticulous approach. The fact that we only get to work in periods of about 2 hours at a time is frustrating, but also means we have plenty of good reflection time.

Despite the temptation on occasion to enlist professional help, we have ended up tackling some of the trickier bits ourselves and discovered that we haven’t done too badly. It may seem trivial, but learning to map our plans onto the wood (using carbon paper) and then cutting a perfect shape with a jig-saw, was a major triumph.

What we have learnt:

• Craftsmen are not communicators – the notes and instructions that came with the kit are not written for novices. We have found that they do begin to make sense, however, once we are facing a particular problem.
• Don’t trust the detail – some of the measurements are plain wrong. Mercifully, it is usually obvious.
• Listening helps: Joe and I often approach problems from different angles, but because we have (surprisingly) respected each other’s views, we have usually ended up with a good ‘third way’ (thanks for the idea, Tony, where did you borrow it from?).
• Wood is expensive, so planning is very important.
• Joe’s home made lager is lethal.
• Brendan has the largest collection of useful tools in the known universe.

I am very excited at the prospect of, very soon, cutting out the planking. Worrying, isn’t it?

Sorry Sorry Sorry.

On advice from my crew, who know about these things, I have been advised to post something on my blog every day (tick), put my blog postings on Facebook (tick), and never, ever, apologise for not posting. "Sorry, I have been away etc".

So, I am sorry I posted a "sorry I've been away post" (tick).

And obviously, sorry I am saying sorry in this email about saying sorry.

er

Sorry.

Later on I WILL post some more photos of the upside down boat frame and the first bit of boat that we have actually produced.

What not to wear... (and a shameless plug for the D8)

Right - on the eve-eve-eve of the masters national champs in Twizel, that I am not attending due to a combination of a separated shoulder and a total lack of organisation, I thought I would discuss dress code in the boat.

It was Wellington RC's 125th anniversary last season. As part of the celebrations and in honour of our founding fathers and mothers, we reverted to our original pink. Although sensibly we didn't choose to go the whole hog and wear the white "plus fours". Well, all but one of us, who had an experimental pink and white row suit (see below). It did prompt quite a lot of feedback during the season.


The current (for three more days) D8 national champs sporting gold medals
and pink livery. I'm the one in the pink and white rowsuit, using my hat to
good effect. Chris is on the far left as you look at the picture. He is striking a
rather camp pose,  I think the pink suits him rather well.


So our thoughts turn to this season. The club have reverted back to burgundy and white, but we will have a free rein while attempting our world record attempt down the (mighty) Waikato.

Suggestions that we dress in period costume have been mooted, and I am tempted. But an email the other day has given me food for thought. If I can wear a pink and white rowsuit, surely I can wear this.

Yes, this is a roman centurion row suit. Brilliant!

Security Update

Very brief update this morning, I have updated the rather onerous security requirements of the blog that mean you have to be a member of Google or some other global hegemony to comment on our entertaining blog. Oh and I changed it so comments were visible without clicks. My sister phoned me from the UK to tell me it's better like that. (She lives in a barn with no Internet as far as I can tell, so what does she know?).

So, now you are all welcome to add your own wit and eloquence.

Go on, make me laugh..

Next steps

After our break – me to England, Joe to A&E, we need to crack on.

The next phase of the build will be attaching the moulds (formers) to the strongback. This calls for precision: they need to be absolutely square, aligned and vertical. This is where the work we did to make the strongback level and true will pay off. With luck, the moulds will require very little adjustment.



Once the moulds are in place, the hog (inner keel), stem, sternpost and transom can be fitted and then we shall have the frame upon which the planking can be fitted. I am sure there are many challenges ahead, but it does feel that getting these first steps done will be the major effort. Watch this space!

Actually, I'm getting better.

I had a scan yesterday, and I can report two things. Firstly, I'm not pregnant, thank god. And secondly, I'm on the mend. There is nothing torn or ruptured, and the bone is slowly making its way back into place. The physiotherapist said "cast off your sling and walk my son" before performing the ritual extraction of $40 from my bank account.

So, I am allowed to get on the erg and do ten minutes at light pressure next week. No change there says Chris.

This evening, I will have a crack at setting up the battens at the stations (obviously!).

Chris will not be round to resume procedings, he has a man-cold. Go on, click on the link, this is where the original man cold came from.

Joe Blogs

So, fresh from a fact finding mission to the UK, where I consulted with legendary characters such as Hobs, Malcolm and Mike Hart on issues relating to fluid dynamics. It’s amazing how good London Pride tastes after 2 years without.

Mike recently broke the record for punting the length of the Thames – punting! That is hard core: not your big wide punt as seen in Christchurch or Oxford, but a proper racing punt, which is hardly wide enough for your feet. Malcolm holds the record for the Giant Meander in a single skiff – again, the length of the Thames. Hobs was part of the team that set a new time of about 4 ½ days for London to Paris.

All these characters confirmed that our project was bonkers, which, coming from them, I took as a ringing endorsement.

Anyway, I return to find disaster abounds. My colleague struggled to make a cup of tea with 2 hands, so there is little hope of meaningful progress now he has messed up his good one. Our planning missions on our (sadly) matched Triumph Daytonas look to be curtailed, too. The only good thing is that he might get a decent colour next time.

It may actually be a blessing in disguise, though, because it may mean that Joe is forced to stand back and observe while I stumble through the next stages of the build: such an objective viewpoint, coupled with his supportive comments (“You don’t want to do it like that…”), could give us the edge we need to build a high quality vessel. Or it will sink.

Fuel

of Champions