Check another duanting task off the list.

I was dreading casting the ballast keel. It wasn't that bad. I set up the turkey fryer (we bought it from Northern Tools, or Harbor Freight, I can't remember which) and the stew pot that comes with it. It melted 120 lbs. of lead in about 30 minutes. It was important to me to be able to melt and pour the whole shebang in one shot.

Use the proper filter for your respirator, and wear long pants and boots.

This casting is about the upper limit for what I would pour myself. Anything bigger would have been worth the expense to sub out.

The process was pretty straight-forward: build the form (I allowed a bit of extra height so that I can cut off the "slag" that forms on the top of the pour), gather your safety equipment (including a fire extinguisher) fire up the cooker, and babysit the fire. When the whole deal is melted, scoop out as much of the junk that floats to the surface as you can, and have a buddy help you dump it in the form. I did not cover the plywood sides of the form with anything. They smoldered and got pretty charred, but I didn't think that they would go up. I hung out near the fresh pour until it stopped smoking (just to be sure that the form did not ignite) and that was that.

After about a half hour, the temp had dropped to around 170 degrees (as measured by our IR pyrometer), so I moved the form inside and stripped the sides. I was amazed at how quickly the casting cooled.

The plan is to fit, fair, and bore the casting while the boat is inverted, and attach it when she is righted.

Body work and prep continues on the topsides and bottom.

Next posting will be pretty math-intensive. Be warned.

I feel much better now!!!

There. It's done. I made the decision, committed to it, and moved forward. I feel twenty pounds lighter. The keel has been milled, fitted, relieved for the ballast casting, and dry hung on the boat. The photos show it before it got tapered and relieved.

For all of my bluff and bluster in previous posts, one would think that it would have been easier for me to actually do it. It wasn't. I take very seriously any significant change made to somebody else's work. I know as much about the finer points of yacht design as I do about Santeria. I did not make any of my decisions regarding these changes willy-nilly, particularly the keel profile. They are all the result of careful math, long hours of research, and tapping the expertise of many respected marine professionals. Special thanks to Messrs. Taylor, Crocker, Ford, and Prescott for the advice and encouragement to move out of analysis paralysis.

Forward rang is laminated and dry-fit to the boat. This part is a much tighter bend than any of the others. It is about the absolute limit to what 1/8" laminates will do without breaking. As a matter of fact, during the dry run, there were a couple of ominous cracking and popping noises as I sucked the last of the curve into the stack. Note the ridiculous number of clamps near the center of the part. I let the stack sit in the form overnight. When I removed it, there were three laminates with short grain that had begun to spilt. I pulled them out of the stack and replaced them with straighter-grained pieces. The lamination went without a hitch. It was a wrestling match, though.

I fitted the part this morning. All went well, but one of the laminates blew out while radiusing the edge. It is getting a localized repair and will be installed tonight. I'll glue the outer keel in place, too.

I have re-thought the installation method for the outer keel. I am gluing it the same way the rest of the boat is assembled. I will still run a line of centerline pinch bolts, but epoxy here makes me feel that much more secure. I'm committed, anyway, and removal of the outer keel will involve a sawz-all no matter how it is hung.

Tomorrow, I have to re-locate the project so that final coats can go on the boats surrounding Dark Secret. I will take the opportunity to flip her, prep and prime the bottom, and carry the topsides work to a first coat of black paint. Come to think of it, if I melt, pour, and hang the lead, paint the bottom, and finish the topsides, then there's no reason to have to invert her again. Unless she's in the way of paying work...

Putting some of the dark in Dark Secret

I decided to switch gears for a couple of days. As I said in an earlier post, the middle third of a project like this involves quite a bit of work and the boat basically looks the same at the end of the day as it did in the beginning.

I elected to do a first go-around on "body work" to prep for a coat of primer. I filled all of the screw holes (I thought), and tended to a bunch of miscellaneous dings, clamp marks, and the like. I knew that a first coat would expose more blemishes, and it did.

The meranti plywood I used for planking really drank up the primer. It will take at least three coats to fill the grain enough for paint, particularly if I go with a black topsides paint. No matter the color choice, I recommend a grey primer for the first coat. Think of it as a guide coat. When you sand it, the sanded areas will show lighter, thus highlighting missed screw holes, scratches, and tear-outs that will show up as dark spots. Fill them, sand them, and re-prime. Sand this coat of primer (the first real, full coat) to be sure that you got everything, and you can switch to a white primer from here out if you are painting a light color. Prime as many times as you need to for grain filling and uniformity. It pays off in the topcoat application. We'll cover that in a week or so (I hope).

I'm going back to slinging goo for the next few days. Forward rang is ready to laminate, and the inwale is a multi-piece part. The change of pace was a welcome respite.

Pictures only

In an effort to compensate for the atrocious Droid camera, here are a few higher resolution photos taken with a borrowed camera.

I can almost taste it...

Ahh, springtime in the boatyard. Every day is Monday. You can't even look forward to Friday because that is the day that everything hits the fan for weekend deliveries. It has been tough to keep momentum going for the past couple of weeks. It seems like the last thing I want to do after the whistle blows is climb on another boat; even my own.

Somehow, I have managed to brush the chip off my shoulder and get quite a bit done on Dark Secret. Both outer stems are on, sheer is finalized, port and starboard rubrails are on, and the aft rang is in. This afternoon, I rolled her in between a couple of the big girls at the yard and took her back off the trailer. She is pretty much on her lines, but I still need to tweak her fore and aft a bit.

In the absence of an owner other than myself, I have procured the stock for the outer keel. It is going to be as described previously. See the link in my previous posting for info on that. I don't want to re-hash the keel argument again. Templating for that timber begins this week, as well as the lamination of the forward rang.

The outer keel will be installed with an adhesive bedding compound, not epoxy. If somebody steps forward and wants to own her with the Valgerda keel, I can more easily remove the part to install the extended skeg. This is the only "structural" part that will be assembled that way. Obviously, the lead ballast will be bedded with something out of a tube, too.

This brings up an interesting aside. I realized this morning that there are very few fasteners in Dark Secret. All of the plank fasteners were temporary. Other than the #8 x 5/8" screws holding the rails on, the entire boat so far relies solely on glue joints. The screws affixing the outer stems were left in place, but they are basically redundant. They functioned as clamps until the glue cured. All of the joints in the boat's assembly are bare mahogany to bare mahogany. This is one of the best scenarios for epoxy to perform to its best possible characteristics. There will be a half-dozen or so 5/16" bronze bolts to affix the outer keel and ballast. That's about it for fasteners in the structure, other than affixing hardware.

I am truly, madly, deeply, ass-over-tea kettle in love with this boat. I will not be inconsolable if she remains my concern for the foreseeable future. I will exhibit her at some regional shows with the hope of building another boat for someone else (I'd love to do Bill Garden's Eel with a laminated frame at each station and epoxied lapstrake planking. That stern would be a knockout). As long as I don't lose sight of why I started this in the first place, I'll be OK. It's not about having another boat; there are too many on my plate as it is. It's not about selling it; money is relatively easy to earn. This is about being the guy who does what he says he will do. And the process.

This has been one of those extremely rare instances in life when the reality far exceeds the fantasy. It doesn't happen often. That thing you are thinking about doing - building a boat, or asking a wonderful woman to marry you, or raising a child, or making a sundae - I urge all of you; invest yourself fully into it. Whatever it is.

Closing in...

She is really starting to come together. I have both outer stems in place (not in the photos taken outside), and I am laminating the rangs this weekend. Rails are fitted and need final shaping.

As promised in the last entry, I have posted "side-by-side" photos of the stern of a traditionally built faering and that of Dark Secret. Be aware that you are looking at the rudder in the photo of the traditional boat, that is NOT a skeg. The hollow in the garboard is clearly seen. Compare that shot to the one of Dark Secret. Obviously the hollow is not nearly as pronounced (there is quite a bit more than what shows in the photo, but I couldn't get the angle right). It doesn't seem like that big a deal, but ask any lobsterman about the difference in a "built-down" boat versus a "skeg-built" boat. Motion, comfort, load-carrying ability, and speed are all affected by this seeming small difference in hull shape. I say it again, it is my belief that the inability to coerce compound curves into sheet planking stock is likely to be the prime contributor to the presence of the skeg as drawn by Mr. Atkin.

For your viewing pleasure (and just in case the photo I used is protected by copyright), here is a link to the site from whence the photo came. It is a Wooden Boat Rescue Foundation listing page:

http://www.woodenboatrescue.org/faering--%20oselver.htm

Note that there is no lateral plane offered on this boat, other than the batten keel.

Moving on, I have had a couple of inquiries on the terms of sale for Dark Secret. As a rowing boat, finished in desired colors, outfitted with bow and stern bouyancy bags, anchor, manual bilge pump, and one pair of 9' Shaw and Tenney oars, the asking price is $8,000. As a sailing boat, all of the above plus spars, sail, rudder (with custom cast hardware), and standing and running rigging, the asking price is $12,500.

I was only half joking in the previous entry about trades. My wife and I are in the process of purchasing an antique home in Thomaston, Maine that needs major attention. We will need, and are open to trades for any of the following:

Ladders, staging, scaffolding
Stationary power tools (table saw, joiner, planer; already have dust collection and portable power tools)
Tractor/mini-excavator with back hoe

Other items will be considered. Interesting vehicles (two- and four-wheeled), 17-22' center-console skiff (an 18' Tripp Angler would be ideal), diesel inboard launch 25' or smaller. These items can (and probably should) be "projects" to be considered for trade.

Marine art, artifacts, and antiques, musical instruments (vintage synthesizers, small grand piano [no uprights, please], electric and acoustic guitars and bass guitars). If you think you have something I might be interested in, let me know.

Unfortunately, I can't do an outright trade. Any trade will have to come with some cash. There are bills to pay.

Hull should be largely complete as of the next posting. I'll be moving on to the sole, inwales, and thwarts.

Stay tuned.

On modern construction methods for traditional boats, and what makes a faering a faering...

No photos this time. Patience, Grasshopper...

There is a very passionate group of people out there who have been discussing, off and on, the virtues and vices of Valgerda and her skeg. These discussions invariably lead into a debate over whether or not she can be considered a "true" faering. I am going to weigh in on both of these issues here.

First off, I completely understand why Mr. Atkin drew the skeg as he did on Valgerda; protection for the rudder when beaching, lateral plane for sailing, and as deep a position as is reasonable for the small chunk of lead to do its job. I'm sure there were other considerations, too. That being said, it is clear that one can either build Valgerda as drawn, or one can build a Hardangersjekte, but you can't do both (at least not in the same boat). It is my opinion that Valgerda was designed as a sailing boat that will row when needed, as opposed to the traditional faerings that were built to be rowed, but were sailed when the opportunity presented itself.

I can hear your hackles rising from here. Settle down...

It is my desire to build a faering. A long, drawn-out search for designs with any degree of authenticity turned up some traditional boat plans, complete with the hewn garboards and grown-crook frames, or modern interpretations of faerings, most of which are too small for my liking. I kept coming back to Valgerda as she is the best documented design in her size, she is GORGEOUS, she is specifically designed for modern construction methods, and of the modern boats she is the truest to the traditional hull form. Except for that skeg. For me it was a no-brainer: build that beautiful hull and put a "proper" batten keel on her and you'll really have something.

But what will I be giving up without that skeg?

Stability? - Not really. A 110 lb chunk of lead hung (as designed) approximately 15" below the metacentric height on a hull whose heeling abilities are limited by very low freeboard and lack of decks can only generate so much righting force. I, as crew and moveable ballast, will provide most of the required righting force by sliding my 200 lb. ass a bit further to windward.

Lateral Plane? - Yes, but so what. It's not like I'll be banging around the bouys with the hot rod boats. That's why I have the Thistle. Mr. Atkin was very clear in his article for MotorBoating, and the commentary that accompanies the designer's study plans reiterates, that this is primarily a rowing boat that will "sail upwind after a fashion." He also states that "expert sail handling" was required in travelling any distance in boats of this type. It is a conscious choice that I made to give up some windward ability in favor of a well-mannered rowing boat. Read through what Howard Chapelle has to say in American Small Sailing Craft about the peapods that were sailed by the island lighthouse keepers in Maine. Many of these boats were sailed long distances with no centerboards, leeboards, or other appendages. A 4" batten keel provided all of the lateral plane.

Rudder protection? - Yes. This is probably my biggest concern. Rocky Maine beaches can, and will, do a number on the bottom edge of a rudder. Properly designed rudder hardware will allow me to quickly ship and un-ship the rudder, but a kick-up or sliding arrangement will not be appropriate for this application. This is another carefully weighed compromise that I have made.

There is also a group out there who insist that without the grown-crook frames and hewn garboards, it isn't a faering. P'shaw!!! While I am envious of anyone who has built a faering with traditional methods, I am also realistic about how this boat will be transported, used, and stored over her lifetime. Epoxied lapstrake planking and laminated structure is the method that makes the most sense in this situation.

I will grant that there is a level of twist and hollow to the garboards of traditionally built faerings that is unattainable in a plywood-planked boat. Mr. Atkin came very close with Valgerda. A hollow garboard contributes immensely to sail-carrying ability. Was Valgerda's lack of this feature the main reason for the skeg as designed? Quite possibly. Next posting will feature photos to show the contrast between the stern of a traditionally-built faering (believed to have been built by The Apprenticeshop) and that of Valgerda. You'll see what I mean.

At any rate, hull form is what defines a boat like this as a type, not construction method. Aside from hull form, here are a couple of other characteristics that are specific to faerings:

1.)These boats are very limber, due partly to the lack of breasthook and the inwale ending at the rangs.

2.)Maximum beam is well forward of 'midship (cod head, mackerel tail - be aware that you are looking at the chines, not waterlines in plan view. Make a copy of the lines plan and draw in the waterlines. It's more pronounced than you think it is).

That's all I have come up with at the moment. Let me know what you think.

Limiting the definition of "faering" (which is a pretty loose term; Norway has as many types of faerings as France has wines) to traditionally built boats is ludicrous. A Whitehall is a Whitehall, whether it's cedar, oak, and bronze or carbon, kevlar, and nomex.

So, that's where I stand on these matters. Big whup, right?

Thanks for getting all the way through this. I'll be getting more current photos up shortly, and I'll be back to posting more regularly soon.