What's in a name.

A scarf

So, until about 2 months ago, I thought this was a scarf.

By the way, I found this picture on a website dedicated to Dr Who scarfs, actually no, a website dedicated to Dr Who scarfs as worn by Tom Baker. (The longest serving of all the Dr's.) If you don't believe me, look at this. 

Dr Who Scarfs

Anyway, I have now discovered that if you spell it scarph, it is a type of joint. Yes yes, two months ago, I thought a joints was, well, you know.


Anyway, there are multitude ways to join two bits of wood together, and one of them is a scarph joint. With some trepidation we decided it was time to break out the planks and have a crack at gluing a couple of them together. The resulting two hour table building episode can be found in a previous blog.


So, we read the instructions and set to with my second hand plane. I can tell you that this was a nervy moment. We were chipping away at bits of wood that would eventually become the boat. An error here could mean a rather annoying leak, especially as we were working on the garboard plank, the one that is deepest in the water. It was surprisingly painless, we probably took too long over it, and were terrified of using time saving electric appliances on our rather expensive bits of plywood.

The pictures below show the results. The first shows two planks on top of each other, planed of course. the fact that the laminates aren't 100% parallel indicates we haven't got it 100% right. In the other, Chris is applying a coat of clear epoxy to the joints prior to mixing in the "white stuff" that thickens it up and makes it glue.




Two bits of wood, planed. That's my reconditioned plane
by the way



Wetting the joint with epoxy prior to the gluing

The results were a very nicely glued joint, not perfect. but pretty good for a first attempt.

New heights of procrastination.

We have scaled new heights of procrastination.

On Saturday, Chris came round to the boatshed (my garage) to get a scarph joint done. We were determined to have a crack at one, so that we could more accurately estimate how long it would take us to complete the hull.

As we removed the ply sheets from the pallet, it struck us that we had nowhere to put the planks to glue them together. I am pretty sure that an idea came to both of us simultaneously. Although the idea to say - "I've just had a brilliant idea!!" was definitely Chris's idea first. Hence, he can stick a flag in it and claim it as his.

Anyway, the net result is that we decided to build a table using the pallet and some bits of MDF we had left from a stem template. Given our new found woodworking skills, what would have been a 4th form design project at Acklam Hall School, (of the famous Mike O'Neill toast rack) was just another job to knock off in our quest to avoid actually building a boat.

So, an hour or so later, it's hard to tell as time really does fly when you are talking about making stuff, we had knocked out a really useful scarphing table.

This is me, cutting out the top of our patented scarphing table

Anyway, we did eventually glue some wood together. But that'll be in tomorrow's blog. You'll just have to wait.

By the way, based on the time it took us to scarph the first plank, we should have the boat finished by Christmas. Next year, or the one after. And we'll have 48 tables.

More about the trip.

The serious summer rowing season is getting under way. Last weekend the Royal Wanganui International Regatta – also known as the Jury Cup - took place. The Wellington Rowing Club’s women raced magnificently to row through their opposition and win by almost a length. This gave me some bragging rights over Joe for a brief time, but not for long as his Novice women shrugged off the effects of his coaching to win by such a margin that they were on their way back up the river before some of the opposition had even finished (or so Joe told me). The Novice men then also performed well and we saw some great racing from the schools that row under Wellington’s umbrella.

One of the highlights of the event, though, was the stoic effort of young Harry O’Neill (Joe’s son), who, when his doubles partner found himself unable to continue sculling, refused to give up and pulled them both along at a furious pace for most of the course. Not only did he complete the course, but they didn’t come last. A valiant and determined effort. I hope Joe is prepared to emulate his son when it comes to dragging my carcase down the Waikato...

Anyway, the point about the season getting under way is that it gives us an opportunity to scout out some of the obstacles along the route, since we have to travel up to Lake Karapiro a couple of times in the next two months to help our crews in the main regattas that lead up to the National Championships.

On the day we set off, we need to decide whether to cross Lake Taupo from Turangi in a straight line, or to hug the shoreline – all depends on the weather. Almost as soon as we leave Taupo, we encounter the Huka Falls: no question here – we shall have to carry out our first portage. A few kilometres later, we come to the first dam at the end of Lake Aratiatia.

Thereafter, there are 8 more dams to be negotiated. The one at Lake Karapiro is probably the trickiest: it is very big and there would seem to be no access for some distance downstream of the dam. Next March may see us trundling our boat for several miles in search of a suitable point of embarkation. There are also one or two passages where the river is quite fast flowing and even a couple of points where we encounter rapids.

After Hamilton, the challenge changes in character: the river widens, yet grows in power: lots of shallows, lots of swirling currents as well as tree trunks, rocks, sandbanks and French submarines.

Part of the fun will be dealing with the surprises along the way, but a bit of reconnaissance will, we hope, make sure that the biggies are catered for.

A stem and Astern.

Having had confirmation from Alec that we needed to fix our error, and the rather unnerving opening line from him that suggested "First, carefully cut the sternpost from the hog..." I put my mind to a solution.

Luckily, I hadn't glued the hog to the stem, so it was simply a case of working out where the transom knee crossed the sheer and moving the hog back before securing to the apron.

I swear I didn't make all that mumbo-jumbo up, and it all actually happened, but I would be lying if I said I didn't make it kind of more boatbuildery than it needed to be.

Alright - in English - I moved the inner keel back a bit till it was in the right place.

Anyway, the important thing is the measurements are now more accurate and we have a benchmark for other "Badgers" to be built. (We intend all subsequent Waikato rows to be races, and we'll need competition).

Anyway, crisis averted.

Astern and a stem, plus our first mistake.

We have now got to the point where mistakes will alter the actual shape or length of the boat, so it's important to get it right.

So, we decided to glue the Sternpost in place and promptly got it wrong!

There is a discrepancy between one of the plans and the instructions, we had to make a judgement call. The conversation went something like this.

Chris - "If we should fail?"
Joe - "We fail, but screw your courage to the sticking place, and we will not fail"
Chris "Oh, ok".

(Actually that's a conversation between Lady Macbeth and her old man, thanks again to my dad, who was also my English teacher at school).

So we screwed, or clamped, our sternpost to the sticking place and left it to dry. I actually had second thoughts overnight and emailed Alec Jordan of Jordan boats, who has been so helpful in the past. The dilemma was obviously too much for him too, he replied asking for my phone number and was then rushed to hospital with chest pains.

Again, the glue dried wonderfully, and our mistake was made permanent. Based on current calculations, the boat will be 4 inches too short. For those of you watching this in metric, that's 3lb 2oz.

Rather poor picture of the sternpost glued to the
hog in the wrong place.

Tune in tomorrow when I will tell you how I got us out of this mess.

Oh, and Alec, get well soon, We kind of need you to.

Before and After.

You remember the picture of the uncut sternpost? That was the "before".

You remember the call for a bandsaw? That was because it took ages to get the stem back into some form of shape after the vagaries of our (Brendan's) jigsaw.

So, I have just got back from John Calvert's workshop on Adelaide Road. He has a bandsaw.

This is the "after" thanks a lot John

He also has a treasure trove of bits of wood, tools, including a spokeshave,  half built furniture, a blob of glass about four feet across that apparently has something to do with a glory-hole. (that should increase the number of hits to the site). Oh, and he's got a black poodle that seems quite friendly.

John offered me the use of the bandsaw. It was a tad blunt and had a bit of a personality so I decided to let him cut the sternpost for me. I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of an actual craftsman. So, while I threw a rubber ball around the workshop to entertain his dog, John did this.

Oh, and the best bit, when I asked if I owed him anything, he said "nope". What a gent.  Go and have a look at his furniture, and if you need something amazing made up, give him a call. http://www.johncalvert.co.nz/home.html

Note - apparently a glory hole in this particular instance is the second furnace in the process of blowing (stop it!) glass. It has nothing to do with George Michael.

Stern looks.

Back to the boat, I've been sidetracked with talk of bikes and bargains.

Chris came over on Friday and we took on the challenge of constructing the Sternpost. It was not straightforward as the parts list had us buying a piece of wood that was just too narrow to follow the plans. We are now confident enough to take these challenges in our stride.

The picture to the right shows the three pieces of wood, glued and ready to be cut. If you look closely, you can see the shape of a sternpost drawn onto them. Experience has shown that while my skills with a jigsaw are good, they are not quite good enough to cut a straight and true line in at 28mm block of Fijian Kauri. Does anyone have a band-saw ?

When we get one (a band saw), we'll cut this strange bit of geometry into something resembling a stern post.

Bargains,Bikes and Boats.

You'll have noticed a theme, I like bargains, bikes and boats. For instance, I fell off my bike, going to boat loading and couldn't build my boat. Unfortunately I'd got a bargain on my insurance, so the excess was a whopping $1,500!

Spotting my weakness for a good deal the bike shop have used the other $5,000 the insurance company were paying to make me an offer I can't refuse on a new Triumph. Instead of paying the $1,500 for the excess, I just have to part with another $2,000 to ride away on this brand spanking new Thruxton Special Edition (it's white, not red, apparently that's special).

Not one to pass up a bargain, I had to say yes.

I am not sure if I actually want it, and I did kind of like my old bike, despite it's attempts to kill me.

Anyway, this is the new bike, it's called a "Cafe Racer", I think the idea is you sit in a cafe drinking coffee, talking about racing whilst looking at your bike.

Oh, Chris and I have set aside a couple of hours to work on the boat tonight, we'll be fabricating the sternpost and admiring my spokeshave.

Transom.

I had a great joke about Yorkshire kidnappers lined up, but you wouldn't get it.

Instead of sharpening my new Spokeshave and No. 4 Plane, I decided to have a crack at shaping the transom.

It's been a drawn out process..

Firstly, from the parts list, buy a nice piece of hardwood, Mahogany in our case, that appears to be far too small for the job in hand. Secondly, trace out the shape of the transom from the half a transom on the plans and, using all your spatial skills, work out a way to cut up the undersised plank to fit the transom.

This appeared impossible at first.

Thirdly, glue the resulting three pieces together to make a shape losely resembling the transom.

Lastly, set to with a jigsaw, a sanding block and a chisel.

It's not finished, and needs a little more fine work, but here's one I prepared earlier.

At this point I would like to give a huge plug to West Systems epoxy, the picture above is of three pieces of wood glued together. If you can see the joins, I'll buy you a pint.

Nerdy Interlude for the Few

A spokeshave is a tool used to shape and smooth wooden rods and shafts - often for use as wheel spokes, chair legs or arrows. It can also be used to carve canoe paddles.


Spokeshaves can be made from flat-bottom, concave, or convex soles, depending on the type of job to be performed. Spokeshaves can include one or more sharpened notches along which the wooden shaft is pulled in order to shave it down to the proper diameter. Historically, spokeshave blades were made of metal, whilst the body and handles were wood. An early design consisted of a metal blade with a pair of tangs to which the wooden handles were attached. By the twentieth century metal handles and detachable blades had become the most common.

$40 !! Did I hear you right? I paid $50 for them, are you trying to ruin me!

Haggling, I love it. I make a point of haggling over everything I buy, I will haggle over electronic equipment, bikes, holidays, anything. My friends suggest it's to do with my Yorkshire heritage.

I was driving back from Lyall bay earlier today and noticed a second hand shop. I asked if there were any second hand tools. Indeed there were. I asked the helpful shop assistant/owner if he had heard of a spokeshave. So far only Chris and my old man seem to know what one is. "Oh yes" he says, I have an old one out the back". It's a bit blunt and a bit old fashioned, but it looks the part and I can sharpen the blade.

"How much"  I ask..
"errrrr, $10 ?".

What I really need, I point out is a No. 4 Plane, Stanley preferably. "Oh yes he says I have one out the back", again, a bit blunt and old fashioned, but it's reassuringly heavy and looks lovely.

"How much" I ask.
"errrr $35"
"$40 the pair?" I reply
"Done!"

I am very excited to get these tools home and sharpened and oiled. I think I have crossed some weird boundary.

You've been Framed.

And for those who are still interested in the build process, and would like to see what my garage looks like with the upside down boat frame in it.. Here you go. The time spent making sure the strongback was straight and true really paid off here, we were able to mount the moulds directly onto the strongback. The various supports are the result of different approaches to getting the moulds vertical. We settled on the angled cross brace approach seen on the leftmost three moulds. If you look carefully at the table with the circular saw and router - there is an empty pint glass with an electric jigsaw in the foreground. A potentially lethal combination.



It's not warped, it's taken with a wide angled lens to get it all in. This is the strongback and the moulds. 



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

Separation Anxiety II

I know it's been a while, and I haven't contributed anything towards the boat, or the blog. Sorry.

I was at the fracture clinic yesterday and a silver tongued orthopedic specialist explained that I wasn't to do anything with my arm (including go to physio) for at least 10 days. I am going back for another xray in three weeks.

In the meantime, the nurse has strapped my arm into a strange sling that Kim (the wife) described as bondage gear. This was a surprise to both me and the nurse. Having said that, why they insist I wear a rubber mask and carry a whip around is beyond me.

So, the strongback remains dormant in the garage. I will attempt to put a coat of epoxy on the plywood strakes with my right hand. (I was going to put a Wiki link to strakes for you, but I have a bad arm, look it up!).

In the meantime, I will practice making cups of tea for Chris upon his return, he has a lot of catching up to do.

Separation Anxiety (in more ways than one)

Bad news, work has stopped on site for a few days. Two things have happened.

1. Chris has gone on holiday, and as most tasks require a fair amount of chatting, I am rather scuppered.
2. I fell off my bike.

On the way home last night, a considerate motorist decided he wanted to change lanes without checking his (or her) mirrors. Luckily, my quick reactions meant I could grab a handful of brakes before I damaged his (or her) paintwork. Unluckily, my four piston radial monobloc caliper brakes were slightly too good and locked up my front wheel and the bike disappeared from under me. The results are as shown below.



A rather scratched Triumph Daytona, missing
the indicator and a chunk of plastic.




A separated shoulder

  

















As it happens, I am away this weekend anyway so wasn't going to do any work on the boat anyway.

Hopefully, I'll be out of the sling next week and can crack on with the moulds.

Some technical stuff.

It might help people understand what we are up to if I try to describe the key stages in the building process.

Firstly, boil your kettle: while this is happening, add a teaspoon of tea per person to the pot, plus ‘one for the pot’…

Once you have this delicate process sorted, build your boat.

Sadly, we fell at the first fence. Despite numerous hints, Joe seemed incapable of addressing the needs of the workers, so don’t blame me if the thing sinks. It is worrying, but maybe things will improve while I am away on a fact-finding mission to the pubs of the River Thames in the next two weeks. I have a secret hope that it will be more or less seaworthy by the time I get back.

I digress… the key stages of the process are: building the strongback (the frame that supports the whole construction), setting up the moulds (a series of formers around which the boat itself is built). These two phases are possibly the most important – we are going several extra miles to get them absolutely right, so the boat will be ‘straight and true’. This is tough for two blokes who have zero scores on Completer-Finisher, but we are faking it well so far.

Once we have the moulds set up, the keel, stem and stern (which need to be accurately cut and shaped) are put in place. The next stage is to fix the strakes or planks: a very tricky operation if you are starting with a tree or even a sheet of ply, but, it is hoped, very much more simple because the complex shapes of each strip have been precut for us: that’s the real advantage of the kit.

As we go along, there will be much application of epoxy, both as a varnish and as glue, probably to the two of us (Joe has mysteriously found a use for most of the latex gloves already), but also to build up a pristine, waterproof surface on the boat.

Once we have the planks in place, we flip the boat over, removing it from the strongback and moulds. Then we start the fitting of the various interior components: thwarts (seats), decking, knees (strengthening braces) and tholes (rowlocks). Finally, we shall remove various structural components of
Joe’s house to get the thing outside and then, at long last, sea trials will commence.

Simple, really.

Our Strongback - almost complete and dead level

Just in case you thought we'd forgotten to build the boat.

Just a quick note to say we haven't forgotten to build the boat. Or fill in the blog for that matter.

Last weekend the majority of the Strongback was constructed in the garage. My car now lives outside, and I can't get to my beer making fridge. Remind me to write something about the beer making fridge, it was a school project for my son Jack, he got an "achieved".

I have looked up Strongback on Wikipedia to see if it was worth linking to some really useful information for you.

It wasn't, I can summarise in a much more entertaining fashion.

From Wikipedea

1. a strongback is a beam or a girder that acts as a secondary.. oh never mind, it's very dull. 
2. The name of a band formed by former members of that well know act "Palladium" (not to be confused with the Australian band of the same name), or
3. The name of at least three Caribbean Herbs. I can think of at least 10 other names for Caribbean herbs, and none of them are strongback.

Anyway, we are making good progress, but the pictures on my iPhone are a bit grainy, so I'll get Chris to take some with his digital camera - here's an unlicensed strongback image from t'internt while we wait. I think this one is bowed in the middle a bit.




A big Strongback in someones back garden, this is probably
what Noah's neighbours saw when they first started to get
suspicious of the incessant hammering.



The first cut.

Right, we are off!



Here's Dave, performing his ceremonial duties.



At 10 am, Saturday 9th of October, we had a Groundbreaking ceremony where the first piece of timber was cut in anger. Unfortunately the mayor of Wellington is currently tied up in thrilling mayoral election campaign, so we had to settle for the next best thing. Dave from Placemakers in Kaiwharawhara stepped up and performed the duty.

The timber in question is actually fence posts for the Strongback. They don't provide this stuff in the kit as most builders have plenty of this lying around in their garage. Not being most builders, I have old bikes and bits of my son's car lying around my garage.

Chris doesn't even have a garage.

Follow the transformation of these fence posts as they become a snooker table flat surface to build the boat on. (Come to think of it, I have a pool table in the room above the garage, I better not mention that to Chris.)



Words, words

Father:	I say...
Daughter:	Yes, Daddy?
Father:	Croquet hoops look damn pretty this afternoon.
Daughter:	Frightfully damn pretty.
Mother:	They're coming along awfully well this year.
Father:	Yes, better than your Aunt Lavinia's croquet hoops.
Daughter:	Ugh! - dreadful tin things.
Mother:	I did tell her to stick to wood.
Father:	Yes, you can't beat wood...Gorn!
Mother:	What's gorn dear?
Father:	Nothing, nothing, I just like the word, it gives me confidence. Gorn...gorn.It's got a sort of woody quality about it. Gorn. Gorn. Much better than 'newspaper' or 'litterbin'.

One of the pleasures of this boatbuilding enterprise is the immersion in a language that calls from the depths of our ancestry. Old Norse (is there a new Norse?) and Old English give us a vocabulary of solid, worthy words, all of them deeply woody. Away from the nastiness of txting and the mangling illiteracy of the spellchecker, we can bask in the warmth of terms such as thole, thwart, sterns, stems and hogs. We can talk about buttock lines and rowlocks with barely a smirk and one day soon, I am sure, Joe and I will manage ‘gusset’ into our conversation and keep a straight face…

Already, we are beginning to have conversations that an outsider would struggle with and we haven't even unpacked the kit. We're currently discussing the location and structure of the strongback (which will be made out of four-be-two) as well as the possible approach to constructing the transom and stem. Lovely.

It's arrived.

Due to a slight hiccup in getting my contract renewed, I found myself unemployed for the day today. Coincidentally, I was emailed yesterday by the ever-helpful Robert from Nisboats to tell me my package had just left Auckland.

So I decided to spend my first morning of unemployment clearing out the garage for the huge pile of wood that would be arriving later in the day. Something like the picture to the right.

I got the call from the truck driver to check that I would be "on-site" to take delivery. This was it, Harry and I were waiting to help the driver off with the load.

It was a big truck....

It wasn't a big pile of wood...

Amazingly, Nisboats seem to have come to an arrangement with IKEA to create a flat-pack boat kit. While the pallet was the biggest I have ever seen, they have managed to pack the boat in a brown envelope.  I took a poor quality photo..

Can you tell what it is yet ?

Oh, and in case you thought I would have it built by next weekend Chris, unfortunately my period of unemployment ends on Monday and I have to go back to work. 

Cunning plans.

The plans arrived today, I am very excited. 

This isn't them, and this isn't our postman.

What a tool.

I asked if there was anything else I would need to build this boat, I got this from Robert in Australia. Does anyone know what a "spokeshave" is ? Answers on a postcard.



The Waikato

The Waikato River is the longest river in New Zealand. In the North Island, it runs for 425 kilometres from the eastern slopes of Mount Ruapehu, joining the Tongariro River system and emptying into Lake Taupo, New Zealand's largest lake. It drains Taupo at the lake's northeastern edge, creates the Huka Falls, then flows northwest, through the Waikato Plains. It empties into the Tasman Sea south of Auckland at Port Waikato. It gives its name to the Waikato region that surrounds the Waikato Plains.

The name Waikato means 'flowing water'.

Nine hydroelectric power stations at eight dams extract energy from the river between Taupo and Karapiro. All the lakes in this stretch of the river (apart from Lake Taupo) are artificial.

Above Lake Taupo, the river is not properly navigable (perhaps it could be done in a slalom canoe – see next year’s expedition), so we are proposing to start our journey at Turangi, close to where the river flows into Lake Taupo. This means our first day will be spent crossing the Lake itself.

The journey from Turangi to Port Waikato is approximately 380 kilometres. For now, we are estimating about 5 days for the trip, but this may be revised as we gain better knowledge of the river flow and further revised once we can actually try out our boat.

The first major obstacle will be the Huka Falls and, while many wellwishers are keen to see us ‘shoot’ the Falls, discretion and the need to keep our sandwiches dry dictates that we need to lift the boat out and transport it by road to a suitable place from which to resume our journey. The same will apply to the other dams along the way. We are unaware of any existing record for this journey and it isn't really a major concern, but we shall try to identify clear points for embarkation and disembarkation, so that we can feel we have done as much of the trip under our own power as is reasonable, given these obstacles.

A Thames Camping Skiff

Buying a Badger.

I am about to spend a lot of money on a boat kit and plans, we haven't really decided where to build it, but it's going to arrive on my driveway in a couple of weeks.

The boat is the nearest thing to a Thames Wherry (pronounced Ferry, like "Whangamata") that we can find. The plans, planks and instructions are being shipped over from Australia, so fingers crossed the instructions are in English.

Have a look at the Nisboats website at http://www.nisboats.com/

Of Course I know what I am doing.

Just in case you think I don't know what I am doing, I thought I'd better mention that I have had a lesson with "Hobbs" at the Dittons Skiff and Punting Club. Hobbs reassured me that he's the best instructor at the club, and he also reassured me I was the best novice he'd ever taught. I think Hobbs might be a liar.

My first and last 'skiffing' lesson on the Thames.

A bit of background

The boat I had in mind for this trip was a Thames camping skiff. This type of boat would be familiar to readers of Jerome K. Jerome (so good they named him twice). Ratty and Mole also messed about in something of the type in “The Wind in the Willows” It is a heavy boat by the standards of modern boat building, being “clinker” built, using overlapping planks of solid wood.

This type of skiff is rowed “fixed seat” – so without the sliding seat that racing rowing boats use. This, plus the considerable weight of the boat, means that it is a relatively slow way of getting from one place to another. However, at the same time, it is quite efficient and it is possible to row for long periods without using up too much energy. Think Hare and Tortoise…

The other reason for choosing this kind of boat is that the Waikato is quite fast flowing and has many currents and eddies, which means we need a craft that will remain stable in such conditions.

The camping skiff was designed so that a canvas awning, supported by wire hoops, could be put up over the entire boat, making a kind of floating tent. We don’t intend to sleep on the boat, nice though it might have been, but will probably take a tent and camp out on the river bank. It would be great to be completely self sufficient for the trip, but we are going to need some help in the form of a vehicle and trailer to circumvent the various dams anyway, so we might get some other comforts, like the odd B&B, on the way.

" Do you know, I've never been in a boat before in all my life"

" What?" cried the Rat, open-mouthed: " Never been in a - you never - well, I - what have you been doing, then?"

" Is it so nice is all that?" asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leaned back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.

" Nice? It's the only thing," said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leaned forward for his stroke. " Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats..." 

A silly idea.

This first post is intended to give you an idea of a rather silly venture that my friend Chris has persuaded me join him in.


I am not sure why he wants to do it, but Chris wants to row down the Waikato river in a  skiff. I can only think he asked me along because I have a garage almost long enough to build the boat in. Oh, did I mention we have to build the skiff, not having found one suitable in New Zealand.

So, the conversation goes something like this

"Do you fancy rowing down the Waikato river in a camping skiff", says Chris.
"Sure", says I..

A few days pass, and another conversation...

"I'd like to do it in a camping skiff", says Chris..
"Sure" says I.

A few days pass..

"How big's your garage ?" says Chris.. And on it goes..  I think the latest conversation involved me buying the kit...