The first order of business as I got down to brass tacks was to determine the actual condition of the decks and their coring, so as to determine what course of action was required for repair--or not, as the case might be.  Cosmetically, the decks were in fair condition, and the owner hoped that it might be possible to save the molded nonskid pattern. This, coupled with the generally restorable condition of the decks' original gelcoat (overall in good condition, but dirty and oxidized), meant that there was a good chance that there would not be a need--nor desire--to repaint the decks as part of this project.

However, there was some evidence of the possibility of debonding, top-skin delamination, and deck core issues and, while I was aware of the possibilities, I had not yet had the opportunity to truly delve into the structural aspects of the deck. 

During earlier inspection tours, my impression of the deck had been that it seemed sound and solid underfoot, with some minor creaking and crackling that could be a telltale sign of core or debonding issues, or could have been inherent with the basic construction techniques used by the boat's builder--that is, that the interior bulkheads were not tabbed to the deck, but were mechanically-fastened to molded ridges in the liner, thereby allowing certain amounts of movement and the resultant friction that causes creaking noises.

To begin, I dusted off my surveying tools, metaphorically speaking, and sounded the decks with a steel hammer to determine the location of any voids, debonding, or other structural issues.  Sounding results generally revealed no particularly alarming areas of note, though overall the entire deck surface lacked the clear, hard ring associated with certain types of sound deck construction.  But the overall results were consistent, with only a few areas indicating something otherwise.  Despite initial worries, I didn't find much with which to be overly concerned.

As I moved along, I also used a moisture meter over the entire deck, after first establishing a baseline measurement on several areas of the solid-glass hull for reference purposes.  I was pleased to find that in nearly all areas, moisture readings were at the low to nonexistent end of the normal expected range, with only a few specific areas showing anything higher than this.  Most notably, the area just aft of the stem, in way of the bow pulpit bases and some through-bolted U-bolts for the lifelines, showed higher readings well into the "red" zone (a relative measurement only), which wasn't a complete surprise.  However, these elevated readings appeared to be isolated to the areas directly adjacent to the hardware in question, and nearby deck areas were observed to contain normal readings.  I've included photos of the areas in question below, with further description as appropriate.
 

The two bow cleats, located a bit further forward and on the far side of the forwardmost interior partition, were not accessible from inside thanks to the boat's full molded deck and hull liner configuration, most notably the protrusion of the molded foredeck anchor well, which greatly limited potential reach and movement in the confines of the pointy end.  So I left these cleats in place for the moment.

In this particular case, the underside deck liner ended an inch or so shy of the edge of the hull, and featured a molded area intended for some wooden trim pieces, which had been removed by the owner much earlier (and were now in storage at the shop).  The area beneath this trim piece protruded over the nuts for the stanchion bases, but since the area wouldn't be seen once the trim was reinstalled later, I decided to cut away a small portion of the liner in way of these stanchion bases--partly out of requirement in order to access the inner nut, and partly to allow installation of a backing plate later, when I reinstalled the hardware.  Currently, the stanchions featured no backing plates or, in at least one instance, even washers.

After a failed attempt to use my Roto-Zip tool to cut out the liner here--the tool was too tall to fit in the space available beneath the deck--I used a grinder with a cutoff wheel to carefully make the cuts.  Even by extending the cut as far out towards the molded lip defining the edge of the trim section, I still couldn't remove enough liner to fully observe and access the innermost nut securing the stanchion base, but it was enough to get it unscrewed in any event; I'd deal with the limitations of the access further later on in the project.  For now, I moved on to repeat the process on the opposite side of the boat, releasing both forward stanchion bases.

In any event--any final discussions and decisions regarding the rigging choices notwithstanding--these concerns were behind the requirement for removal of the chainplates.  Somewhat amusingly--at some point one stops being perturbed and the situation becomes laughable rather than bothersome--this led into far more work and disassembly than I'd counted on, as well as substantial head-shaking on my part.  Read on.

Clearly, it was loose, but it seemed to be stuck in the lower corner.  Examining the solid wood trim at the inner edge of the bulkhead, I found a series of plugged fastener holes.  Apparently, despite the presumably removable nature of this  (and other) interior bulkheads, the builder had decided that long screws securing the trim--which then penetrated the fiberglass galley unit directly behind--were necessary.  So I carefully bored away the plugs hiding the screw heads (using a Forstner bit and then an awl to scrape away the final detritus), and removed the five offending 2" pan head screws.  After this, the bulkhead came right out.

Next, I turned to the chainplates on the port side.  Again, I began by removing some smaller panels located inside the hanging locker, exposing the chainplates.  I found a large pile of shredded paper here, likely left by some former resident.  I saw no other evidence of rodents (so far).

There was a series of screws inside the outer panel of the hanging locker, but it looked like I might be able to remove the whole thing by taking out a half dozen exposed screws located on the forward side of the v-berth bulkhead.  I removed these, as well as the screws securing the aft end of the hanging locker panel, and this released the panel--mostly.  Once again, I found myself on my hands and knees looking for the secret fasteners.  This time, I located a large plug at the base of the solid teak trim--a plug large enough to seem indicative of a through-bolt rather than a screw.  Opening the forward bilge hatch, I found that indeed the base of this trim was secured to the liner with a single bolt.  Why, in an interior composed of screwed-in, cosmetic partitions, the builder found a need to bolt this one insignificant area was beyond me, but I removed the nut and carefully tapped the bolt out, forcing the plug out (reserved for reuse) in the process.  Then, I removed the panel, finally.

Total Time on This Job Today:  8.5  hours

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