Hey Joe, where y'going with that spray gun in your hand?

Coat number four went on this morning. Here's Joe in action... I can't help thinking that there's a fair amount of varnish in the air and perhaps less going on the boat (the mask is essential and the overalls pretty important, too), but it's still looking better every time).

Edward the Compressor is brilliant: it cuts in automatically to give a constant pressure. Just in case anyone's interested, 4 coats required a litre of varnish (therefore about 250 ml of varnish combined with about 50-60 ml of thinner per coat), so we are probably going to use 4 tins in total to spray in and out, plus a fifth to do the fittings (seats, knees and rudder). That will also call for 4 or 5 tins of thinner, too, so around 2 litres of that. Having said that, I suspect we can refine the settings on the spray gun to give a tighter delivery. 

I notice that there appear to be some strange markings on the transom (the bit nearest you) - in reality these are not at all in evidence and the mahogany is every bit as beautiful as we hoped. It's a shame we have to put the rudder fittings on there.

ET's Tent

It was a major job, clearing out the sawdust, scrap wood and Brendan's machinery from under the strongback. This was followed by creating a hermetically sealed environment wherein the spraying could take place without risk of dust or harmful bacteria. I donned gloves  and overalls and toyed with the idea of wearing one of those caps they use in operating theatres... It was very stuffy, so I opened the door, at which point I realised my glasses weren't steamed up, but instead had an evenly applied coating of varnish, giving the world a distinctly blurred look. Or an indistinctly blurred look.

I suspect Joe and I were both quite nervous about the big moment when we attempted spraying the varnish for the first time. Somehow, we always managed to find a bit more sanding or other preparatory work rather than crack on with it. Everyone said it was a tricky job, not to be attempted by incompetents and so forth.

Perhaps it was luck, plus plenty of research and good advice from all quarters, but it turned out to be very easy, very successful and hugely satisfying. We've only done the first two layers, but already the effect is wonderful. The only frustration is that it only takes ten minutes to apply a coat, clean the spray gun and ask Kim to put the kettle on - then we have to wait a day before we can do it all again.

So here are some shots of the boat from today:

It's all a yoke...

So we slipped quietly into our third year of the build sometime late in September. I am quite pleased when people ask, with an ironic raised eyebrow: "finished the boat yet?".... Pleased, because a lot of people have stopped asking altogether.

Well, actually, since you ask, or not, we are very close. The biggest excitement was the recent purchase of the equipment to spray the beast: welcome, Edward the Compressor!

We also bought all sorts of tools to attach to Edward, none of which are a great deal of use, since we've done most of the manufacture anyway.

The last few months have mainly involved a great deal of sanding: we both understand that the quality of our preparation will be the determinant of the final finish and have slipped into an uncharacteristic detail consciousness. Well, sort of...

A few bits are still in production: components that will be fitted after the varnishing. We are tremendously pleased with our mahogany and oak breasthook (see earlier blogs) and this led to a decision to try to repeat the pattern on the yoke for the rudder. 

Here's the rudder, before and after a coating of shiny stuff. We chose to make it from ply and deliberately to show off that fact with the 'natural' pattern formed by feathering it to shape. Perhaps a matter of taste, but we like it:

The yoke will sit horizontally at the top of the rudder, once finished and shaped: here it is in production:

Watch this space for more exciting pictures as this takes shape.

Have we done the one about the Romans?

We've been busy preparing for the Masters' National Championships, held last weekend at Karapiro. Lots of fun and lots of learning for our whole squad.

Joe has also taken on the Captaincy of Wellington Rowing Club, so I have to say 'Aye, Aye' instead of 'You prat'. This on top of his determined supervision of the club's women, who are training hard and enthusiastically.

Despite all that, the project is nudging forward and we are turning our thinking towards varnishing inside and out: the final phase of the build. Apart from fixing the seats. With the knees. And the rudder. And finding some oars.

But look at this beauty:

From the bows

Showing our favourite bit of marquetry

Our-Tholes Part II

So, I am back from my world tour. As I may have mentioned before you really have to travel a lot to maintain your "International Playboy" status otherwise you get downgraded to "Domestic Playboy"... Well it doesn't have the same ring to it does it ?

Here's my abridged travel guide.

• Vancouver was like Wellington but bigger, there was a lot of scenery, bears (apparently) and a disproportionate number of sea planes. I couldn't stop myself saying "Hey" like a Canadian.
• New York is not at all like Wellington, it's much bigger, it's noisy, smelly, hot and fantastic. I'd go back at the drop of a hat.
• England, and it's big brother, Team GB, was in the throes of the Olympics, it seemed in a much better state than when I left it 9 years ago.
• Hong Kong is much more expensive than I when I left it 29 years ago. The waiters in the "American" restaurant are just as rude, the food is just as good.

Ok, the boat.

We've made a list on the bit of chipboard that we used to cover the window we broke with the bow of the boat. It's a complex and detailed project plan and we're going to work our way through the list until we're rowing our way into history. At the moment it says "finish the boat" and "row the Waikato" I think we need to get a little more granular. 

Ok, we finished our-tholes, there are two in the stern and two in the bow, so, like us, we have a couple of pairs of our-tholes. (A pair of our-tholes..??? Go on. say it out loud). The picture below shows a finished Thole.

We decided to ignore the instructions, in fact I actually think we've lost the instructions, I certainly haven't seen them for more than a year. So we winged it. One of the issues was getting a "cap" to fit the curve, we made a steam box out of a bit of old down-pipe and tried to bend it, but we are either too impatient or we are just not very good at it. In the end, we got it nearly right and applied a liberal coat of glue and some "boat-nails" to hold them down. 


Can you tell how we did it, and can you see the boat nails. Enlarge the picture if you can't quite see them.

You will note that the boat looks surprisingly finished. Trust me it isn't, we've got a lot to do and there'll be lots more blogs, oh yes. But the next picture actually does give a sense of completeness. And she really does look good.  

Two pairs of our tholes.

Same meat, different gravy

We are so close to completion: just a few bits and pieces to be made, then lots of sanding and varnishing. What better time for us both to clear off for a long holiday? Joe went via Canada, probably because he could get free peanuts or something, and is returning via Hong Kong, probably because someone there owes him a beer. Charlotte and I took the boys to England and to South Wales, enjoying catching up with friends and relatives.


Amongst several highlights of my trip was Henley Royal Regatta. While there, I saw this bit of craftsmanship from Mark Edwards (now I know why he didn't get round to answering my email) and probably others (forgive me for not being able to mention you, folks). The big thrill for me was seeing the similarity in construction and technique (albeit with a bit of a difference in execution).

The Gloriana, moored at Henley.

The Gloriana is the 28.6-metre-long (94 ft) royal barge privately commissioned as a tribute to Queen Elizabeth  for her Diamond Jubilee, and was the lead vessel in the Thames Diamond Jubilee Pageant, which was so well organised by Malcolm Knight of the Dittons Skiffing and Punting Club (no wonder he didn't have time to find us some oars).

A crew of former Olympians rowed her over the  course on the Saturday of the Regatta. Mike Hart said she was a bit slow off the mark, but ran beautifully.

I think we may have to do better in the matter of twiddly bits....

Knees.

Having thought and talked about how we'd make the knees for some time, which I must say, is a very effective way of putting off actual work, we decided to glue a couple of bits of plywood together. I hope you'll excuse me if I talk about the ply for a moment.

The boat arrived as 5 sheets of "laser" cut ply. The idea being you buy the kit and plans off a supplier who then subcontracts the CNC cutting to a reputable local supplier. Makes a lot of sense, the only shipping is an emailed CNC (look it up) file. It has it's drawbacks however. The supplier, our mate Robert in Australia, has little or no control over the quality of the wood or laser cutting that goes on at the third party supplier. The result in our case being a sort of sooty, dull batch of ply that is best used mixing glue. While I am sure 6 coats of expensive varnish will tart it up, it is a bit disappointing. Robert (our mate in Australia) to his credit, sent us a whole new set of plywood planking, which remains wrapped in cardboard and cling-film.

Where was I ? Ply.

Anyway, we went to our man at City Timber, a great timber merchants who have given us a small rain forest in free wood, and bought a sheet of ply for our-tholes (I really can't believe we haven't had any feedback on that) and it was lovely, lots of fin grain, contrast, no soot, a really nice piece of wood. This piece of ply has subsequently been used to make a rudder and may end up as a foot stretcher.

Where was I ? Knees.

So, while I was sanding down our-tholes, Chris was looking at an off-cut and wondering how to make a knee. However he cut it, there would be a weakness in the grain that could have resulted in the seats parting company with the risers and the boat breaking open down the middle like a banana split.

The answer - the amazing sheet of ply that we are slowly working our way through - the grain goes both ways. You readers probably thought of this ages ago, in fact I can hear you screaming - "Make the knees out of ply you dummies!!!" So we glued two pieces of ply together - and after making a template out of cardboard, and some guidance down the phone from Chris, I made this.

That's a knee in the foreground. If you look closely, you may notice our new kitten in the background.

Nice, innit. Not the cat. The cat is deaf and meows like a car horn.