Yesterday, I squirted epoxy into the gaps along the planks. I switched to a different, slow cure epoxy midway, got confused, and lined one seam with a mix way short on hardner. Luckily I twigged what I had done, scraped it out, refilled with a correct mix, and today everything is set hard. I did not tighten all the wires as much as I should have, and epoxy dribbled inside in a couple of spots, but it could have been worse.
I left the epoxy to set hard today, and spent some time rounding and sanding the rockers, and trying to persuade the floor to fit. A lot more rasping will be required for the floor I suspect. Could be the bulk heads are ever so slightly trapeziodal rather than a perfect rectangle.
The "stitch" phase of the cradle boat project is done. It actually came together better than I feared it might. A few whoopses, but epoxy is wonderful stuff. This has been a nice scale project, good for my confidence. And it has been good fun. So far.
I am not sure if the interior is varnishable. I will be as careful as I can be and see how we go.
My bruises, scapes and bumps from the car-dooring are slowly healing up. I still have a very sore elbow and hip. Hey ho, hopefully in another month it will all be a faint memory and a few scars.
Boating continues to be prohibited. The inconsistencies and lack of logic could be annoying. Surfing is permitted, but if one stands up on a surf board with a paddle, then one has become a recreational craft and use is not permitted. It is not ok to catch a fish, but, apparently, it is ok to shoot a duck. One is not necessary, the other apparently is necessary. I don't really understand, but I try to keep my head down and not get trampled or run over by the crowds of people jogging, cycling, meandering along the pathway by the foreshore.
To fill in the next few months, I have begun a building a cradle boat, from plans supplied by CLC. I am exploring new frontiers in home delivery - two sheets of plywood turned up today, a box with epoxy and other bits and pieces is hopefully on its way from Whitworths, and the router bit I need is coming from the charmingly named Total Tools. If only I could get a nice bit of mahogany over the internet, I would have everything I need.
I started this afternoon, transferring the outlines of the side panels and bottom onto one sheet of ply. It is nice to be boat building again, even if it is a boat that will never see water.
The cradle boat is a 50% scale model of the Eastport pram dinghy, which I see can be constructed as a nesting dinghy. Now there is an interesting idea.
I wish I was heading out, but apparently there is a $1600 fine for anything considered "unnecessary". Here is a scan of another photo Sandra's neighbour took of Oz and I heading out on our last sailing day.
Sandra dropped the prints from her neighbour off, very kindly. I found them pushed under the door. Our new social distancing regime prohibits social visiting. I would love to get hold of a digital print of this and the previous photo Colin took. When all this is over I will see if I can get him out for a sail and ask.
I am seriously missing sailing. The boaty projects continue very very slowly. Perhaps this may be a good time to replace the tape on Peregrina which is cracking along most visible seams. I try not to think about the seams I cannot see.
Here is a scan of the other photo, not sure it is much better than the photo of the photo taken by Sandra's camera. I like the image though.
I got a sms today from Sandra, one of my Sabre sailing buddies. Her next door neighbour, Colin, showed her one of his photos, of a boat he really liked the look of.
I hope I can get a good copy of it one day as it is both a great photo of Kirsty Ann, and it somehow encapsulates the times.
From the anchored cruise ship on the horizon behind the mizzen, the photo was taken the last sailing day. I am holding the anchor in my left hand, bag over shoulder, about to push the boat off for our last sail for who knows how long.
I also like it as it is a reminder that our lives don't have super hard boundaries. It is nice to think that someone found the boat and the scene somehow significant too.
Life without sailing is strange. I have a list of boaty projects, which I am working through at an extraordinarily slow pace. But I feel that I am rediscovering the capacity to make things and fix things with my hands. I try not to think how long it might be until I can get back on the water.
I got the Core Sound out this morning, motivated by a growing sense that it might well be the last time, for a while at least. Hopefully not permanently.
It was a calm warm morning, and I was on the water by about 10. I sailed round to anchor off AYC, to say good morning to Andrew and let Oz have a leg stretch. Bjorn and his wife were walking Poppy their dog down there, so Oz had a playmate, and we all had a nice ad hopefully adequately distant chat. We are social creatures to be sure.
I headed off again, andrew followed and soon passed me in the light airs but we moved along ok, out past Altona reef mark, where the wind dropped to dead calm. But we managed to ghost along, very relaxed sailing, till Andrew pointed to the dark patch on the water heading our way fast, and a sudden blast from the north hit us, making for some exciting sailing. Anne was on her way down, and I did not want to keep her waiting, or I would have put in a reef. By dumping the main we kept reasonably upright - Oz looks very alarmed when we get too much of a tilt - and with a couple of tacks we made a good landing near where Anne was waiting.
The wind had kicked right up, and Anne and Oz were a bit anxious as we beat across towards Williamstown. We tacked again, and came in near Kororiot Creek mouth, usually a totally deserted spot, but today there were people walking their dogs there, thanks to the warm weather, the low tide and the general shutdown of most other occupations. We had lunch, Oz barked at a few dogs, and then we set off home, wind behind us, under mizzen alone, creaming along at 4 to 5 knots.
Tonight, on my Facebook feed, there was a post from Maritime Victoria: To help slow the spread of coronavirus, we recommend you cancel planned boating activities this weekend. Recreational boating is a non-essential activity. The advice to Victorians is clear: if you can stay home, you must stay home. Your exposure to others while refuelling, buying bait or being rescued in the event of an incident may contribute to the spread of coronavirus (COVID-19). This is tough. But each of us are being asked to make sacrifices to save lives. Take care everyone. Stay up to date with the latest health advice from DHHS: https://www.dhhs.vic.gov.au/coronavirusBetter Boating VictoriaVictorian Fisheries Authority
I expect Stage 3 restrictions , when they come, will prohibit recreational boating. Today may well have been the last on the water for a while.
I got a sharp reminder that you never know what is round the next corner, or, in my case, is sitting in that car with tinted windows that you are about to cycle past. A simple bike ride up to the Hundred Steps Hill with my daughter Jess turned pear shaped in a flash when a guy opened his car door just as we were riding past. I caught my handle bar on the edge and went down heavily, Jess ran into me and came down too. I was mostly furious with the guy in the car. I was too shocked and too busy wondering how bad it was to get his details. Lucky escape for him.
We limped off home and Jess patched up the large gouge out of my left arm. I don't think any bones broken. My left shoulder is mighty sore. Apparently shoulder injuries are most common in car dooring incidents. I hope it won't affect my mast raising, that would be seriously unwelcome outcome. My left arm, shoulder, right elbow and right hip are all sore, and from experience will be worse tomorrow.
In a way we were lucky, as it could have been way worse. But in this anxious fretful time when there is a pervasive feeling that something bad could happen any moment, there is proof, see, something bad did happen!
So probably no sailing for me for a while. I had a long day yesterday, in the morning with some Sabre sailors and Andrew in his laser. We came in, and most people had had enough, but Sandra wanted to try to sail over closer to the cruise liner anchored off Williamstown. We set off, but the wind just about died, so we headed back after an hour or so. Near AYC there a group from the club were just about to start an informal race. They had a start boat and a course laid out, so we joined in. This prved to be a fairly demoralising experience, as I just can't get sufficient boat speed to be competitive. I came last in all 3 races. By the top mark, no matter how good my start, I was at least 20 seconds behind, tho I could hold or maybe slightly reduce that on the rest of the course. This was my view for much of the afternoon ... the few other boats racing vanishing off into the distance...
It makes me wonder what to do in future. I think my sailing is not so bad, I now know how to get the boat going to its optimum. It is depressing not to be able to match boat speed. Do I invest in some go faster things like new foils and a new sail? Do I get a new boat? Or do I accept that I am not a particularly competitive sailor and switch over to cruising? Serious decision point coming up.
There was a distinctly bad vibe down at the club yesterday. I doubt I will be back for future Saturdays informal racing.
