Wednesday

I removed the brace, fixing screws, and wooden alignment blocks from the new deck repair/overhead panel, then made preparations to tab the repair to the adjacent surfaces, beginning with making a cut list for the tabbing pieces needed all around.  Afterwards, I used a thickened epoxy mixture to fill the small transition between the panel and the adjacent bonding surfaces, wetting out all areas in the process.

Leaving that to tack up a bit, I cut all the pieces of tabbing, then wet them out and installed them around the perimeter of the repair.

Continuing the refinishing work on the mast beam, I lightly sanded and then applied a second coat of varnish.

Meanwhile, I went around the decks and ground out any small areas requiring repairs:  Cracks, old filler that wasn’t up to snuff, and that sort of thing.  I also ground out a circular area around the obsolete fuel fill opening on the starboard side to prepare this for patching.

After cleaning up the areas in question, I applied epoxy fairing compound as needed (first round), and skim-coated the decks aft of the cabin trunk to fill remnants of the old molded nonskid pattern and other minor issues.  I installed rounds of fiberglass to patch the fuel fill opening, and patched two larger cracks in the raised toerail with fiberglass.

That was all I could do on the decks for the moment, so I moved to the hull, where, beginning at the stern, I measured and marked the existing locations of the painted waterline and, importantly, the actual waterline as determined by the clear scum line on the hull.  I’d use these baseline measurements in a few weeks to determine and strike the new waterline and striping when the time came.  Working off the actual waterline now, I made new marks 2-1/2″ vertically above at stem and stern and noted the reference measurement, which would ultimately become the two determining points for the new line.

I repeated the process at the bow.

With these measurements recorded, now I’d be ready to start work on the hull whenever the spirit moved me.

Total time billed on this job today:  6.25 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  3°, mainly cloudy.   Forecast for the day:  Decreasing clouds, 28°

Tuesday

Getting a much later start than intended after an early morning appointment ran long, I began with some preparations to the new deck/overhead panel.  The extra layer of material had stiffened the panel appreciably, and now it was just the right level of flexible:  Stiff enough to barely droop, yet easily bendable into the sort of curve required.  I gave the new fiberglass a light sanding to prepare it for the next steps.

In the boat, I removed the paint from the overhead around the perimeter of the repair.  The overhead, otherwise known as the deck’s inner skin, was quite thin and delicate in many areas, and far from smooth, so I had to balance how far I wanted to sand it with doing undue damage to the existing edges, so I didn’t worry about a few spots of paint left behind in the hollows.  There was plenty of good bonding area, and later, once the underside was done, I planned to glass over the entire repair from above as well, to really tie things together before the core.

Afterwards, I cleaned up and installed masking below the overhead to protect the immediately adjacent, and freshly painted, interior surfaces from collateral damage during the fiberglass work just ahead.

I dry-fit the panel, overlapping it about an inch all around; it was easy to see the overlap since the translucent fiberglass allowed the edges to be clearly ascertained from below.  The panel bent easily and accurately into place with gentle pressure in the center, and I held it temporarily with a wooden brace.  I used a few (four) screws to secure the panel through the remnants of the deck above, which held it securely, and would clamp it during the final installation.  The screw holes would later be covered by the final tabbing from below and new glass from above.  I traced the outline of the panel and marked the screw locations to help me align the panel properly when it was time to epoxy it in place.  At the aft center of the panel, I slipped in a scrap of 3/8″ balsa to space the panel correctly to allow new core to be installed above. as this was the area that had been core-free and sloppily glassed from beneath.

As an added alignment guide, from above I hot-glued little wooden blocks in place around the perimeter so the panel could only fit one way.

Now, removing the panel, I made final preparations then installed the panel permanently in a bed of epoxy adhesive all around the perimeter, or at least where applicable; in several areas, mainly to starboard, remnants of the old fiberglass repair remained, and the panel wouldn’t–and shouldn’t–fit tightly here since these sections were too high.  When all was said and done and the panel was fully installed from beneath, I planned to cut and grind away the final old repair work from above, clearing the way for new work.  I secured the panel with the four screws, added a support in the center to hold the arch securely, and found I needed another screw or two to help pull the panel tightly into the epoxy, mainly at the forward end in the v-berth.  At the aft end, where I’d spaced the panel intentionally down from the adjacent glass, I installed some of the adhesive from inside to fill the gap and hold the panel there once the temporary core bits were removed.

Pleased to have the deck filled in once more, I spent the final part of the day finish-sanding the mast beams, then applying the first coat of varnish to all sides of both pieces.

Total time billed on this job today:  4.5 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  0°, clear.   Forecast for the day:  Sunny, 8°

Monday

The new laminate I’d built to create the new inner skin (and overhead) for the coachroof repair was a bit more flexible than I’d hoped, but not necessarily than I thought it might be.  Built of a single layer of 1708, I’d hoped it might be a bit less floppy than it turned out to be, and I thought I’d add another layer to stiffen the panel before installation.  Otherwise, it was a good basis for the work to come, and to prepare it for the next steps I water-washed both sides and, later, sanded them lightly to remove the gloss from the “mold” side and lightly scuff both surfaces.

To gain access to the coachroof deck from beneath in order to make the required repair, I needed to remove the wooden mast support beam, which arched beneath the mast step and notched into the vertical support structure of the forward bulkhead.  Several bolts held it in place, and in this case, there was some messy fiberglass work that looked to pose at least some removal challenges for the beam.  A second, shorter beam extended the support a bit further into the forward cabin along the forward side of the opening.  These beams were newer than original and were themselves in serviceable condition, though the overall installation left something to be desired.

Because of the way I felt the deck needed to be rebuilt, eliminating as much of the old repair work as possible and, more importantly, tying in the repairs and other new work with the critical mast step area, I needed clear access through the passageway to the forward cabin, across which the beam now spanned.

I removed all the bolts without issue, then worked to remove the forward section of the beam.  I cut through the fiberglass between the beam and the overhead, used various prying devices, and, when it became apparent that this short beam was at least partially tacked to the main beam behind with adhesive, ran my slim multi-tool cutter between the beam sections from beneath, eventually releasing the forward beam section.

With a few additional cuts to release the fiberglass above the main beam, now accessible from both sides, it was relatively easy now to remove the main beam as well.

I used the paper pattern I’d made earlier to create a template of the overhead from cardboard, which I test-fit in place and made minor adjustments.  This template was now the overall size of the overhead, filling the space more or less entirely with no offsets.  I’d built in extensions to allow the template to pass through both openings to the head (from the saloon and into the forward cabin), as the repair work would encompass both areas, but at the forward side the extension needed to be a few inches longer to pass far enough into the forward cabin, so I made a little add-on piece for the template.

To leave room around the edges of the repair area and give me space to secure and tab in the new panel, I planned to leave a 2″ border on all sides, enough space for the bonding required while removing as much of the lousy old work as I could, and remain within the workable area.  Ideally, it would have been nice to remove all those pesky bulkheads and rebuild the entire bottom of the forward coachroof in a clear area, but obviously that was impractical and wasn’t about to happen; fortunately the repair work could, and would, be done within their confines.  So now I marked the cardboard 2″ in all around, and cut the new shape.  With the slightly reduced template propped in place and positioned according to some rough marks I’d made in key areas, I marked its outline with a dashed line all around.  This template, and the dashed line, represented the final size of the new panel.

I transferred the cardboard to a piece of 1/4″ plywood for the final template, which I also thought I might use during installation of the fiberglass panel as a backing and for support.  This repair process was working itself out one step at a time, with only a rough idea of the plan from the getgo, but becoming more clear all the time.  I test-fit the plywood panel in the space to confirm the overall measurements.

Now the overall limits of the new work were defined, and to mark the actual lines where I’d cut the deck out, I marked a new line 1″ in from the dashed lines representing the size of the panel.  This would leave a 1″ flange for bonding the panel directly to the adjacent deck, with the 2″ beyond for tabbing later.  With a drill, I marked each corner of the cutout area from below so I could recreate the shape abovedecks and make the cut from there.

Now all that was left was to cut out the deck along these lines.  This made the head seem exceedingly roomy and airy from below.

I used the final plywood template to mark and cut the fiberglass panel to the correct shape.  To reinforce and further prepare the new fiberglass panel, I marked 3″ in from the edges along the bottom (i.e. exposed/overhead side) and cut a second layer of cloth to fit, then laminated it in place.  This would stiffen the panel somewhat.  The offset along the edges would allow room for the tabbing that would ultimately secure the panel to the boat, while maintaining a generally flush appearance from beneath for improved cosmetics and ease of fairing.

To round out the day, I cleaned up the mast beams, removing the old fiberglass from the top edge as needed and sanding clean and smooth the resin-dripped, bumpy surfaces over the oak.  Of course the old fiberglass and resin had to be removed, but what better opportunity to improve the mast beams’ appearance before reinstallation as well.

Total time billed on this job today:  7 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  25°, clear.   Forecast for the day:  Windy, sunny, temperature dropping

Friday

After briefly working on a small, unrelated varnishing project at the shop, I got back to work on the deck sanding, picking up where I left off at the port foredeck.  Over the course of the day, I continued the sanding operations, using 40 and 80 grit paper to remove the old paint from the foredeck, down the starboard side, and around the poop deck.  This completed the bulk surface prep, though I’d soon continue with hand work in the tight areas and additional rounds of finish sanding over the entire deck.

After cleaning up the boat and shop a bit, I set up a flat plywood panel, covered in plastic, on which to laminate the new bottom skin for the coachroof deck repair.  I drew the plastic tight and wrinkle-free as possible since this surface was acting as a mold for the new laminate.  Then, I wet out a single layer of 1708 material cut somewhat oversize for the task ahead, approximately 28″ x 60″.  A single layer of the 1708 would be thicker and far more durable than the original inner skin, but I refrained from adding more simply to ensure that the panel remained amply pliable to curve to the shape required for the deck once cured.  I left the panel to cure over the weekend.

Total time billed on this job today:  6 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  Cloudy, just beginning to snow, 28°.   Forecast for the day:  Snow, 3-7 inches forecast, 27°

Thursday

After a morning errand, I spent the remainder of the day working on the decks, starting with some investigation of the small area of the starboard upper coachroof where I’d identified possible core problems earlier.  A couple test holes drilled through the top skin confirmed the presence of wet core, with related debonding, so I (carefully!) cut the top skin off with a saw, which went swimmingly and as expected, revealing ruined core beneath, as well as a section of bright, good core.  I slightly expanded my initial cut to expose all the damaged core in the area, and quickly scraped out the old material.  For now, I left this area as is for repair work to come soon.

To let the details of the upcoming deck rebuilding at the coachroof come into greater clarity, and to keep the project moving forward, I decided to focus the rest of the week on bulk surface prep on the deck.  The existing paint was a 2-part polyurethane (not LPU), and whether or not it would be compatible beneath the paint I planned to apply, much of the deck exhibited paint failures, failures which were clearly exacerbated by the boat’s 10-year period of uncovered neglect under previous ownership.  Nevertheless, I couldn’t risk leaving any of the old paint in place, so I set about removing the paint, starting on the main coachroof.  Before starting, I draped some plastic sheeting over the companionway to keep out the worst of the dust.  Using two sanding grits, I removed all the old paint (in basically good condition in this are) from the coachroof and down the forward-facing side leading to the lower, forward section.  Small bits of remaining paint here and there would be removed during several later rounds of finer sanding and hand work to come.  I stayed just short of the small area to be recored on the starboard side, as I’d be grinding the deck around the repair area in the near future.

Next, from the relative comfort of the staging, I began at the port poop deck and, during the remainder of the day, worked my way forward, removing the old paint from the decks, molded toerail, and cabin sides with a two-step sanding process using 40 and 80 grit paper, eventually reaching the foredeck by the end of the day.  Forward of the cockpit, where the deck became cored (the narrow sidedecks outboard of the cockpit, and the poopdeck, were solid fiberglass), I found that the gray material covering the decks (the sidedecks and foredeck had been recored during the work a decade past) was highly durable and therefore didn’t seem to require wholesale removal:  anything that could stand up as indelibly to the sanding onslaught to which it was subjected would probably be an acceptable substrate for the paint system to come (though I planned a compatibility test to be sure).  There’d be additional, finer sanding by machine and hand to come to deal with tight spots, toerail corners, and to remove the last vestiges of old paint.  The newly-exposed decks so far were in the expected condition:  old gelcoat with lots of previous repairs, mostly sound (cabin sides and after sections); and the rebuilt sidedecks in good condition and ready for new work.  I’d continue the surface prep next time.

Total time billed on this job today:  4.5 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  Foggy, 33°.   Forecast for the day:  Decreasing clouds, 37°

Wednesday

Beginning the repair work on the forward coachroof, I proceeded in the usual way.   The condition of the deck seemed clear enough–extremely soft underfoot on either side, with paint damage and surface cracking to confirm the softness in a visual way.  I’d already laid out my general cut lines, designed to leave ample deck surface at the edges for tying in the new work with the old, and now I set my saw to an appropriate depth to cut through the top skin and made the first cut along the aft edge of the deck, a few inches forward of the bump-up to the after section of the doghouse.

Finishing the cut, I was aghast to see  light (coming from belowdecks) through the saw kerf.  How could I have cut all the way through the deck?

This did not compute, so I immediately went below, to discover that indeed the saw had come through the bottom skin in the center portion of the head, just forward of the passageway opening.  I was horrified, but still couldn’t–and didn’t–understand how that could have happened.  But OK, I could and would deal with the mistake, and no substantial harm.

The cut line disappeared on either side of the passageway, which cheered me up a bit, so I carefully proceeded with additional cuts to release the first section of top skin for removal , a large piece on the port side, the area where the deck had been softest.  To my horror, I found a few more sections of cut–and I’d even exposed less of the saw blade for these cuts out of an abundance of caution–where the kerf had gone through the inner skin again.  How could this be?  Eventually, and carefully–though the deck had to come apart one way or another–I removed enough of the top skin where I could begin to piece together what was happening beneath, keeping the saw cuts a bit further back from where I’d originally intended to cut, and with the blade set as shallowly as possible.   In this way, I exposed most of the structure throughout the part of the deck I’d intended to quickly cut open and dismantle.

First of all, the old core was the balsa planks used in the earlier Tritons, before they switched to end-grain blocks later in the production series.  I’d forgotten about that particular bit of Triton lore, but it didn’t explain the other things I was seeing and experiencing.  The core planks were generally dry, but the adhesion between both top and bottom skins was poor to nonexistent, which had ultimately led to the overall structural failure.  All normal and expected, and still unrelated to the way the saw had gone through the deck in the center.  But now I could see that the inner skin, as it were, came right up and met the top skin in the centerline area where I’d had the kerf problem.  It’s notable that the top skin here peeled away cleanly and with only minimal bonding to the fiberglass below, highlighting again the inadequacy of the previous work.  The only place I had any trouble removing the top fiberglass was over the mast step, which area featured some sort of solid material directly beneath the step (some sort of prefab material, as yet undetermined).

Apparently, some person (and I use the term generously) had done some horrendous work to the area from below.  The previous “repair” apparently had replaced some of the core (from below) with solid glass, so there was now a newer inner skin applied directly to the underside of the original top skin.  This previous repair person had just removed whatever core was bad, left the rest in place, and put on some fiberglass from beneath.  Now, exposing things from the top, the picture finally began to come together.   When I did my interior work to the boat during phase 1, I’d certainly noticed the lumpy-bumpy characteristics of the underside of the deck in the head, but it wasn’t anything unusual as far as Tritons go:  the older ones, especially, all feature that sort of sloppy and rough glasswork, and there were no signs that pointed to this sort of issue.  Because the deck had never been repaired from above, there were no signs of this weirdness from the surface either.  Given the known history of this boat, and some of the previous repair work (under previous ownerships) for which we have documentation, there were other strange and semi-catastrophic things that had been dealt with previously, so from that perspective these findings made more sense than they might have otherwise, but this still hadn’t been enough to actually “expect” to find this sort of atrocity.

After some more careful, but still necessary, demolition work, I exposed most of the area and removed the old coring.  There was indeed some solid material in way of the mast step itself, as I’d suspected, and I slowly cut towards it till I could remove all the surrounding core, and then peel back, with effort, the fiberglass over the top.  Any new work to repair this area would of course have to properly incorporate the mast step area, and I now just needed a real sense of what was going on, and to help me come up with some means of repair.

With the detritus cleaned up, the geography of the previous “repair” became more clear.  The “solid” part of the deck (the part badly repaired from below) extended along the basic centerline, aft of the mast step.  In this area, the bottom skin contacted  the remaining top skin  along the center portion between the ports; on either side, as the deck extended outward, the normal contour of the construction, with space for the standard 3/8″ core, became visible once more.

In addition to the first, largest, saw kerf that came through the inside, right along the aft side of the head at the passageway opening, there were a couple other places (also along the center area where there was no longer any core, just the roughly 1/4″ of fiberglass) where the saw had cut through, and some damage through the inner skin forward of the bulkhead in the forward cabin, caused during removal of the core from above.

These findings put a damper on my intended progress for the day, and I immediately got in touch with the owner to notify him and begin discussions about what it meant for the overall project.  Meanwhile I tried to think about the best way to go about repairing this area properly.  Clearly the miserable old work would have to be removed, which essentially meant cutting out this portion of the deck (i.e. head overhead), and rebuilding the inner skin (overhead) as well as new core and top skin above.  There were various limitations, practical, financial, and otherwise, to how this might be accomplished, with an eye towards minimizing collateral damage, working within the spaces defined by existing structures (bulkheads on either side), and successfully tying the new bottom skin (overhead) in with the existing and adjacent structures.  The change in elevation of the cabin top right at the boundary of the repair complicated things as well, because the deck requiring repair literally ended as it raised itself to the upper level.  So there was limited room for tying the new in with the old as a purely physical thing.

What I thought I might do was to actually build a new inner skin panel off the boat, flat on a bench, then, after cutting out the old deck as much as possible (leaving ample material at the edges for bonding and to avoid the bulkheads) mold and adhere the new skin from below, re-creating the proper 3/8″ depth for the new core.  My reasoning for this approach was that I could bond the new skin panel from underneath, epoxying and tabbing it along the edges of the cutout; otherwise, there was no clear way to incorporate the new bottom laminate in with the existing structures.   Once the new inner skin was in place and bonded, rebuilding the rest of the deck would be normal, basic, and quick.  To bond the new material sufficiently beneath the mast step, the critical structural element of this whole space that made the repairs that much more important, I figured I should remove the mast beam so I could bond through the passageway, which was directly beneath the step.  This would afford the opportunity to clean up the mast beam installation, which was sort of a sloppy mess anyway.

The exact mechanics of this process would make themselves better known once I got going.  For now, it was an idea, and I’d continue to mull and refine it over the hours and days to come.

While waiting to hear back from the owner, and not wanting to delve too deeply into the next steps of whatever repair till I had approval to proceed, I decided for now to start with a pattern of the head overhead, which I could use to start my rebuilding process.  With some basic measurements of the space, I cut a paper template slightly smaller all around; then, with the template taped in place, I marked the exact shape of the space all around, using a flexible 1-1/2″ wide ruler (and, in the tightest spot, a compass) to draw the offset directly on the paper template.

With that, for now I called it a day on this project and focused in other directions.  Later in the day, I heard back from the owner with approval to continue the repairs as necessary, so I looked forward to continuing the overall deck prep–as well as effecting this unexpected repair–in the coming days.

Total time billed on this job today:  4.5 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  Mostly cloudy, 18°.   Forecast for the day:  Drizzle, freezing drizzle, then rain, 45°

Tuesday

With a short day planned as I had to leave early for an appointment, I picked up where I left off and removed the smaller opening ports and/or trim rings.  There were two different styles of bronze opening ports:  an older. smaller style in three locations, which I found I could easily and safely remove completely  once the trim rings were removed; and three “newer”, slightly larger, and superior versions (located in the forward-facing side of the main cabin sides, and on the starboard side of the forward cabin) where I found that just removing the trim rings was sufficient as the port bodies were well-adhered and sealed in place and I felt that removal was not only unnecessary, but might cause damage to the interior paint.

In each removal, I catalogued the screw length from each trim ring hole, as these varied based on the cabin thickness and trim ring profile (on the older style ports), and knowing which screws needed to go where would greatly streamline reinstallation later on in the project.

The last hardware to remove was the mast step and mast wiring conduit on the coachroof.  Neither posed any particular removal challenges.

I removed most of the excess sealant from the port and deadlight openings, then, to protect the cabin from the worst of the dust and debris to come as the deck work got underway, I papered over the deadlights from the inside and, similarly, covered the forward hatch with masking for protection as well.

Next, I removed the stainless steel rubrail from the seam around the hull/deck joint, an unnoteworthy process except for one screw with a stripped head that I thought was going to pose a major headache, but fortunately and with great care I was able to coax it out on its own.

With a short time left before I had to depart, I went over the coachroof–both the lower section (known to be bad) and the upper section (unknown condition) to better determine my recoring course over the next few days.  As anticipated/known, the lower forward section was in poor condition and clearly soft underfoot, with many cracks and crazing visible.  There were hints under the paint of a more solid/possibly-previously-repaired section beneath the mast step, and the hole leftover from the mast wiring conduit seemed to reinforce this notion.  So the bulk of the recore and repair looked to encompass the vast remainder of this part of the deck, at least as far forward as the hatch.  I made some markings for the cuts and removal ahead.  This would be a straightfoward repair.

The upper portion of the coachroof sounded better than expected when tapped with hammer, and with some brief memory aids from my work in this area during phase 1, I remembered that the core had mostly seemed bright and clean when I’d drilled and potted fastener holes for the companionway and some of the hardware.  I did locate a small area on the starboard aft side, near the winch and cleat locations, with suspect soundings, and I’d investigate this further presently.  I planned to leave the companionway hatch in place for now to limit dust ingress into the cabin, but would remove it later for its own surface prep and painting.

Finally, on the starboard side of the hull was an old fuel tank vent, which the owner had plugged with a vent fitting to fill the existing hole temporarily.  Now, with hull work to come and the opportunity to patch the obsolete hole, I removed the vent fitting.

Total time billed on this job today:  3.5 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  Fair, 4°.   Forecast for the day:  Sunny, 25°

Monday

Preparing for the deck work ahead (mainly a thorough cosmetic overhaul, but the forward coachroof was soft and required recoring), my first task, as usual, was to remove deck hardware.  In this case, I’d only just installed the hardware six or seven months earlier, during phase 1 of the project, so removal went smoothly and quickly since the fasteners were still new and access was quite good in most parts of the boat; even areas with blind access were easy enough to reach.

During the course of the day, I removed all the deck hardware, starting in the stern and cockpit with the pulpit, cleats, winch bases, and cockpit coamings.  I was surprised at how well the thin strip of butyl tape I’d installed behind the coamings held:  With all fasteners removed the coamings didn’t budge from their curves.  It was quite stretchy when finally released.  I also found that the sealant I used on the bulk of the deck hardware held firmly as well, but released well enough once I got it started.  Since on this boat the existing deck paint was in poor condition with serious adhesion problems–the main reason for the work ahead–the paint often failed when in way of the hardware removals.  I’d actually never had opportunity to dismantle anything I’d installed over the years, so it was interesting to gauge the efficacy of the various sealants.

Moving on, I went to the bow and started working aft from there, removing the bow pulpit, anchor roller, mooring bitt, chocks, cowl vent, and spinnaker pole chocks.  Then, I finished up the bulk of the deck hardware with the genoa tracks, stanchion bases, chainplate covers, and main halyard gear on the coachroof (winch, cleat, and fairlead).  In all cases, I could easily remove the nuts from belowdecks (none of the fasteners spun in place, thanks to the combination of newness, good sealant, and the threaded deck holes), then remove the fasteners from above.  This all made the process go inordinately quickly.  I saved all the fasteners I could for reuse, as most were in like-new condition; I’d specifically chosen not to cut off any excess bolt length during the original installation so that I might be able to reuse the fasteners now.

Next, I removed the deadlights from the main cabin, taking care to note any fasteners that were different from the rest.  Most were of consistent length, but there were a couple shorter ones, and one longer one, plus two bolt/washer/nut combinations I’d had to use on the starboard forward light since I couldn’t get the machine screws to grab otherwise.  I hoped and planned to correct these during the fresh installation ahead.  All four installations appeared well bedded once I’d removed the inner frames.

Removal of the outer frames was not difficult; I planned to leave the lenses in place and intact for the reinstallation, as all were well-installed from a few months earlier and there was no reason to think of replacing them.

Still ahead were the small opening ports, and the mast step, but for now the day was done.

Total time billed on this job today:  6 hours

0600 Weather Observation:  Fair, 17°.   Forecast for the day:  Sunny, 20°