Some vidoes

 An old video from the day we bought the boat and left seattle.

 

Having a little fun.

First trip on the boat

Some more back-log to catch up on

We finally sold the the giant hydraulic long line hauler that was forward of the main hatch. The guy who bought it and I had to take it apart as much as we could just to have a chance of getting it off the boat. Then it completely maxed out the little Toyota truck, but it was gone and it gave us some cash for the big swap meet in Seattle.
You can see the remnants of the cement base they poured to create a level surface for the hauler to mount too.

May be hard to tell, but with all the stuff taken out of the bow, the water line came up over a foot.

Here's the current view looking forward from the engine room hatch.

A different view of the block and tackle setup.

The first load of new wood to go back on the boat! 

The second load of wood. Some beautiful slabs cut from a 300 year old Douglas fir. They're about 30" wide and 14' long and weigh at least a couple hundred pounds each.

Block party

We wanted to be able to use the big boom to lift stuff in and out of the hold and on and off the deck. It was also a good excuse for me to go to my favorite store in Skagit county, Anacortes Marine Supply. It's an old shop full of old surplus goods, used items, tools, fasteners and everything else you want for an old wood boat. Mainly they had a good selection of big blocks of which I needed. It's not even funny how much these cost brand new and fancy marine stores.

I sanded all four of them down and started putting coats of linseed oil on them. They've been sitting a long time and were really dry, so they soaked it up pretty quick. The oil will help protect against the rain and from the sun drying the wood to the point of it cracking too much. And it looks pretty.

A few more shackles, 175' of 3/4 braided line and some fun times dangling up on the mast with no harness... It works!

Look! It's sunny out!

Once the sun came out, it was hard to want to stay working in the hold, so we took a break from that and found some things to do outside. This is the booby hatch (hehe), that leads down to the v-berth. The old paint was peeling off and was hold water between it and the wood. Kate Scraped it off so the wood could have a chance to dry out before rotting. 

This is the aft break beam, it is under the aft mast. I was mostly curious and a little bored, so I stripped it down. Once it was down to bare wood, I put four coats of linseed oil on to help feed the wood some and also give some more water protection under the paint.

This is after the first coat of white.

You may recall this being grey. You'd be right. It is the skylight hatch above the v-berth on the bow. The old paint was ugly and Kate and I both wanted some more varnish on the boat.  A little time with a propane torch, a power planer and a couple different sanders...

And some new seam compound...

It was time for the first coat of varnish!

The tank must come out!

This is what the first six hours of works look like... 

Here, you can see where the ceiling planks end and the last visible parts of the frames began.

The hose was there to put out any fires and smoldering timber that may happen... Not to worry, the boat is still floating.

This gives an idea on how the tank is constructed, forward and aft walls, then baffles in-between.

After fifty or a billion hours, a LOT of Advil and seemingly permanent nerve damage in my arms...the tank is out...
To give some perspective, the tank you see is about 42 inches tall and about 12 feet wide. 

The V-berth feels huge when your standing on top of the keel. Its about 11 feet tall from the bottom. 

This is the keel with the frames filled in with cement for ballast and to keep water from collecting where it shouldn't.

It's a well earned truck load. It may not look like it, but after many, many trips up the dock...3150lbs of steel it is! The really exciting part was driving the truck which already had really sketchy brakes, then adding a ton and a half steel in the bed. You'd have a hard time falling asleep driving when the fear of imminent death was around... We're happy it's over.

In Which We Are Four Months Behind Posting

Well, hello again!  Long time no see.  It's been busy around here - we are not going to attempt to bring you up to speed all in one shot.  We'll pick up where we left off, in the V - Berth, still demoing (spoiler alert: in real time, we are all done with the demo!).

Items found in the bow locker: old moldy baseball hat, old moldy socks, old moldy plastic bags, old moldy crab pot buoy, old moldy Stevens - I mean....

Down to the ceiling boards up forward.  Over Eli's shoulder you can see an area where we have started scraping paint.  We've since stopped because it's soul sucking and it gave me tendonitis and it looks pretty much the same.

Either working in a tight spot or practicing for his torch lounge solo.  You can't ever tell with this one.

Working on this thing requires you to call on your inner spider monkey more often than you would probably expect.

Dismantling the refrigeration plates

This is the aftermath post cold locker removal - lots of rot.  It looks better now, but some of those ceiling planks will eventually need to be replaced.

We are tired.

Tearing out the galley.  It Did. Not. Want. To. Go.  Approximately eighty billion and twelve screws were involved in holding this thing up.

Ha!  Take that nasty abrasive floor from which I now bear permanent scars!

How To Exacerbate Vertebral Disk Herniation, or, That Time Eli Moved the Iron Stove Out of the Focsle by himself.  Don't try this at home.
No really.  This is a public service announcement.

(+): No more stove.
(-): Lots of rotten break beam.  Will need replacing.

So now we're down to the tanks: the forward one is the water tank, and the big black steel one is a diesel tank.  It was built specifically for the boat, and is relatively new.

We really wanted to keep it, figure out some way to put it to use.  But the truth was that we just don't need the extra 900 gallons of diesel.

The 3000 gallon holding capacity we have in the engine room is probably fine (don't do the math on that, it hurts).  Although now we will not be able to circumnavigate in one shot.  We will have to stop in Cape Town.  Lame.

So the final step of demolition in the v-berth is taking out this gorgeous specimen, and selling it for scrap.  To do so we needed to have the bulkhead beams out of the way, but that's okay...

...turns out they weren't doing much anyway.

In our next episode: will they have to dismantle this beast with a Sawzall, inch by laborious 1/4 inch -inch, or will Eli talk Kate into renting a plasma cutter and tearing it effortlessly to shreds?

Cliffhanger.

(Not really.  Anyone who knows me knows that the odds of me standing casually around with a hose waiting to put out fires on my wooden boat approach those of a snowball in hell.)

(Also, please read the aforementioned 'they' as 'Eli'.)

We Are V Happy to Present....

I would like to think that I am punny, but Eli just sighed and shook his head at the title.  I leave it to the reader to decide (please leave votes in the comments, but only if they are on my side).

The front of the boat, where the two sides come together to form a V, is where the crew quarter/mess hall/living space was and is therefore known as the V berth.  This is where we are planning to put our master stateroom, at least in phase one.  When we bought Northern, you may recall it looked like this:

We present exhibits
A: Berths which have been used for 80 years of stinky fishermen
B: Cushions along berths = "settee", pathetic excuse for lounge space
C: Fancy folding origami table which leaves room for a two dimensional person when open
D: Ginormous non-functional cold locker with, granted, very neat doors but no other redeeming qualities
E: Very sketchy stove and sink area (not pictured because not worth photographing)

Because I am high maintenance this is not my idea of a master stateroom (I think that Eli would be totally fine living on the boat as it is, using the hold as a bicycle garage for the rest of time).

So this past weekend, we got a wild hair and decided to take it all out.  Forgive the crummy iPhone photos, we were ill equipped.

We started with the table.  Actually, to be more accurate, we started with hoisting the giant dog down the ladder to supervise.  Then we started with the table.  Finger-loosening in crannies the socket wrench couldn't reach.

Salty, having found a nook in which to hunker.

Doing anything around this stupid table requires contorting oneself into all manner of odd positions.  It was like doing yoga and construction at the same time.

Got the top off the table and the base up off the deck.  Dismantling it--remember, to salvage the screws!  Cheap!

Taking out the very forward cabinet and divider.

We also took off and saved all the trim, which is either teak or mahogany.  I am not sure why expensive varnished trim was installed on this fishing boat but whatever.  Eli says, Because it's still a boat.  Proper shipbuilding.

Whooo!  It feels bigger already!

Peeling the pieces apart.  The red cloth is hanging on the vent lever for the hatch after Eli ran into it one too many times (not previously an issue because of the giant table).  Spot the labradoodle.

The end of our hard day's night.  Not too shabby for six hours' work!  It is fun to make big changes like this; actually feels as though we are making progress!

We had mentioned the creepy galley before.  This part is staying so we still have a place to scrub ourselves down and clean brushes after working.  It will eventually also go the way of the do-do. 

Eli came back the next day and continued the momentum while I was at work.

Notice the fancy new skilsaw.  In the past four days we have acquired:
a skilsaw
an impact drill kit
a belt sander
an angle grinder
an electric planer
a heatgun (two actually: does anyone have an opinion on whether flow volume actually impacts speed of work? we are trying to decide between the Milwaukee and a Bosch. will keep you posted on our findings)
a multitool (Kate: What is a multi-tool? I have a multi-tool; it fits in my purse but I do not think that a leatherman is what you are talking about.  Eli: It's a multi-tool.  You know.  Like cast-cutters.  Kate: Why would we ever need a cast cutter?  Eli: You'll see.  Kate: Is that a threat?  Are you threatening me?  Eli: crickets)

All the fancy tools lying around in the dust.  Whatever.

THERE IS WALL SPACE.  WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO LIVE HERE.
(I'm sorry.  I meant ceiling space).

Here's a test patch where Eli used the heatgun to scrape the paint off down to bare wood.  The whole vee eventually needs to look like this so we can slather it in linseed oil to feed the wood, then let it cure a bit before we paint it.  Probably white, but maybe varnishing the deck beams.  This is how I am going to acquire Michelle Obama's arms.

Side note: both heat guns (Milwaukee and Bosch) were used.  Verdict: more testing is required.  I think that this actually means we are keeping two heat guns.

So this is where we are at right now.

We still need to rip out the bench on the port side, the cold box, the galley and the diesel stove.  The deck in this room is actually painted rough concrete (and I have the abrasions on my knuckles to prove it) so that has to go too.  But!  Imagine if you will a bed up in the vee there, and some cabinets and a squishy settee and some port lights.  If I squint real hard I can almost see it.