1986, the beginning of a twenty five foot sailboat, laid down
in my backyard in Cornwall, Ontario, Canada, a stout wooden boat, built mostly with local materials, envisioned to travel
far and wide. Working on a budget and learning as I went, she
would prove to be a challenging lady. At times rewarding, at times frustrating,
always demanding, a balancing act for time spent between my yacht to be and my new bride.
For nine
years we would watch her grow, piece by piece, ash for the keel, pine for the hull, cedar for the trunk.
I've been asked "why build a boat,
why not just go out and buy one?". Well, I guess there was more than one reason. I've also been asked
"would you do it again? Now that's a tough one. I think that like most first time
boat builders, I thought that I could save a few dollars and be finished and sailing in no time. I
also wanted a particular boat, and thought it would be easier to start from scratch than to refit another
boat. Since I had never owned a sailboat, and had little sailing experience,
I was in for a surprise.
August 23rd, 1986, Linda and I were
wed.
The fall of 1986, I decided to build
a boat, a sailboat.
Where to begin? I started with the "how
to" books. Everything looked so simple and staightforward. I looked at different
materials, glass, wood, cement, steel. I looked at my backyard, how big could I build?
I looked at my skills. What would I use her for, what would I expect from her? How long would it take?
What would it cost? The answer to size was simple, 25 feet, the limits of my back
yard. The answers to the other questions would come with time. Well, let's get started. Looking
through the boat plans books I came across a cute little vessel decended from a rich history.
She was a Spray 22. Downsized from Joshua Slocums Spray, she was what I wanted,
I would just make her a little bigger, 25 ft.
That fall, with plans in hand,
I took the plunge. I gathered up a few boatbuilding manuals, subscribed
to some boating magazines and brought home my first pieces of lumber. The boat was to be multichined,
plywood sheathed. Tools on hand were a radial arm saw, a circular saw, a drill and
a belt sander. The frames and molds I would build in my basement over the winter. The
first lesson I learned was that when you produce sawdust in your basement, you have sawdust throughout your house. Using
the full size patterns that came with the plans, I spent that winter building molds and frames using one
by four inch white oak and ash with 3/8s mahogany ply for gussets.
All pieces were epoxy encapsulated and bronze fastened. We have an older house and our
basement is only six feet high. Summer wouldn't come soon enough so
that I could get outside and have some space. Creating sawdust and epoxy fumes
outdoors instead of in our basement would also make Linda a happier woman.
Ahh. The spring of 87. Nighttime temperatures
above freezing. The first order of business was the strongback, the platform on which
our little boat would be built. To support the strongback I put six 4x4 posts four feet into the
ground to keep everything level through the changing seasons. The strongback itself was built from
2x10s. The finished structure was solid and true. I now know that many
different stresses are are applied when building a hull, and one can not skimp at
this stage of the game. My strongback proved to be up to the task.
The hull, at least to the first part of the planking, would be
done upsidedown. Setting up the molds and frames was fairly straightforward but accuracy is paramount. Athwartship boards
on the molds and frames, placed at a set distance from the waterline, rested on the strongback. There was a mold at
each station, securely braced. Using a batten, I faired the skeleton.
Working outdoors was nice. When not busy on the boat, I
would keep the whole thing covered with a tarp. Using epoxy made it necessary to keep the wood dry. Sunlight is
also an enemy of epoxy. Covering and uncovering was becoming a nuisance and time consuming. I decided to put up
a tent. A tent would have to be quite large, about 12 feet high, 12 feet wide and 30 feet long. This would require
some framing. Well it seemed that any structure with any kind of a frame required a building permit from the city.
The size of tent I needed would not be allowed. What to do? My brother Gerry had a farm, about 10 miles outside
of town, with a barn that he wasn't using. No problem, I could build there. I trailered what I had so far out
to the country. This was where my heavy strongback really paid off. Set up at my new location, I laid on the stringers
and the keelson, the stringers being built up to 1 1/2 x 4 incbes and the keelson to 1 /12 x 9 inches. This process used
up the rest of the good weather of 1987, since travelling was now factored in. Now I could see the shape of the
hull, and that sight gave me encouagement. Through the winter of 87/88, it was building whatever parts I could back
in the basement. Our winters here are too long.
1988, Gerry sold his farm. What to do? I trailered
what I had back home, set up again in the backyard and put up my tent. I kept my fingers crossed. After looking
at plywood boats and talking to ply boat owners, it seemed that ply was not the answer. I would strip plank. I
began my search for clear pine, long lengths that could be quarter sawn to 1 x 1 1/4 inch strips. Machining the strips
is a long process, installing the strips is a longer process. Through the summer of 88 the deadwood went on and the
stringers were faired to take the planking. I was finding out how much time was needed to apply epoxy. Every
joint, every screw hole. Time passed. Working nights and weekends, my little boat was taking shape. More
time passed. Summers. Winters.
With the boat turned right side up, the hull, deck and
trunk were planked. Sanding the whole thing fair, giving it four coats of epoxy and two coats of paint gave
me a very basic structure. It had consummed the first years of my project. I didn't realize it at the time,
but I was only about one third the way to having what I could call a sailboat.
So far the tent idea was was OK. No one had come to tell
me to take it down. My neighbors had mixed feelings about the whole project. Some thought I was a simpleton.
Some thought I was nuts. Some thought it was a good pastime. My new name was Noah, the boat I was building
was the Ark. Maybe some of them were right, maybe they were all right, but maybe they were wrong.
Boat hardware is expensive, whether you buy ready made or have
a custom job done. So far I had used over six thousand bronze nails, hundreds of bronze screws and about forty
gallons of epoxy. Now it was time for some of the hardware that I would see on the finished product. Portholes,
vents, cleats and chainplates went on. Kranz iron, Gammon bolt, mast step and mast heel along with some other deck fittings
were custom cast from bronze. It was starting to add up. I stopped counting the dollars. It was too scary.
To be continued
The year 1995. Lucky linda was launched on the 20th of
May at the Mitchell property on Cornwall Island. All went well and a large turnout of family and friends were on hand
for the celebration.
The year 2000. The 20th of May and Lucky Linda set sail
for a trip down the St Lawrence river, crewed by myself and my brother-in-law, Ed, to Nova Scotia, where she would spend the
next few years prepping for an Atlantic crossing.
The year 2006. Lucky
Linda departed Chamcook Bay, New Brunswick for her maiden transatlantic passage. She was crewed by myself and John Pierce.
She is presently lying at dockside at Horta, The Azores, after completeing that passage. A fine little yacht.
