(page 9 of 165)

PT11-56

Using the correct product (primer) this time, I painted the inside of the aft hull section.  The paint was quick to flash off once applied, which led to many lap marks as I struggled to work my way logically through the whole section, which process was admittedly more of a challenge than I’d expected (and I’d expected a challenge).  However, I got coverage everywhere, which was the goal, and since the boat would be sanded before any further work, the lap marks didn’t matter at this stage and frankly couldn’t be avoided despite all efforts.

I painted the face of the forward bulkhead, and also the transom, since these areas would be primed later anyway, and it made sense to do them now.

Meanwhile, I continued the daily buildup of varnish on the tiller, the byproduct of my other project.

PT11-55

I continued the varnish buildup on the tiller and extension with coat #2, an offshoot of my varnish work on another project.

In the afternoon, I saw a good opportunity to apply primer to the interiors of the boat halves.  For this job, I chose Epifanes 2-part polyurethane and appropriate primer for both inside the hull (white) and the outside of the hull (a custom mix to match the owner’s sailboat).  While I’d used, and liked, other Epifanes coatings over the years, I’d not ever used the 2-part specifically.

Earlier in the day, I’d pulled a package containing the paint for the job from a storage area where I’d been keeping it warm, and after confirming the label through the packaging (because I’d ordered both primer and topcoat), pulled out one of the two cans of primer inside the plastic wrapping and set it aside to use now.

I mixed the paint as required and set to work on the forward half, which was the “easier” of the two parts.  For primer, I figured I could cut in and tip with foam brushes, since at the moment I didn’t have any good brushes on hand other than the ones I used for one-part paints, but I didn’t want to start with a used brush.  Immediately, I was surprised at the nature of the primer and, since I chose to start with cutting in the difficult parts of the boat–the underside of the breasthook, and the corners at the aft end beneath the bulkhead gussets and such–I was quickly lamenting the lack of a good brush, but the product was covering fairly well (not as easily as I’d expected), and eventually I coated the whole section satisfactorily.  I was thinking the primer was surprisingly glossy and more finicky to work with than I expected, but overall the coating came out pretty well, and after all, it was just primer.  The small rectangular piece shown is the daggerboard slot cover.

I’d started with a fairly small batch, and while it had been more than enough for the forward half, I could see I’d need more for the second half.  Somewhere around here–I don’t know how exactly  it came into my conscious, it just did all of a sudden–I got a bad feeling, and felt the pangs of Captain Obvious, sometimes abbreviated as “DUH”; I rushed to check my paint can.

Did you see it coming?  It turned out that I’d mixed and used the topcoat for “primer” instead of the primer.  It seems I’d ordered one can of each (I ordered it a while back), and both cans, which looked similar enough to be roughly identical at a glance, had been wrapped in the same overwrap for shipping.  While I’d confirmed the primer label earlier in the day, the can I actually took out was the topcoat.  I was focused on the back of the can, where the mixing instructions were printed, and, being new to the paint, it never was obvious during mixing that I was using the gloss topcoat, especially when I knew I’d read the label through the packaging earlier in the day.  The cans happen to be identical except for the specific product labeling, which one might have thought was enough, but for the specific circumstances and a certain level of brain-deadness.

Doth I protest too much?  Maybe, because I’m embarrassed, but it was also easy to do even in hindsight, particularly when I thought I’d ordered two cans of primer which, naturally, would be packaged together.  Sigh.

Quick:  Which is which?

There’s no shame in mistakes, only in pretending they don’t ever happen.  I share this because it happened, and I could have easily chosen not to share it.

At this point, I cut my losses and left the aft half for another day.   This was a stupid, but not unrecoverable, error, and I planned to treat the first coat of gloss on the forward half just as I would if it was primer.  The good news in all this was that I learned some valuable things about the topcoat application, which would serve me well when I started to actually use the product intentionally later on.

If I’d had enough of the first mix left to complete the aft half, I might have just gone ahead with it despite the error, but since I didn’t have enough already mixed, I saw no reason to push forward.  That said, it’s notable that the designers of the boat write in the manual that “they don’t believe in primer” and the instructions don’t call for priming the boat before painting, even though I chose to stick with my own process and experiences and intended to use primer all along, and which I still think is the correct practice for any coating.

I might have mixed primer and done the aft half correctly, but the primer mix required a mix ratio based on weight, not volume (how annoying, by the way), and I had no means of weighing it at the moment.  It seemed better in all ways to stop and regroup, and turn to the aft half on another day.

No hours were harmed during the making of this mistake.

 

Danusia Phase 2-11

In what would be a daily cycle for the immediate future, I started out by lightly sanding with the first coat of varnish, by hand and with a small sanding block when possible.  After cleaning up from the sanding, I applied another coat of varnish to all areas.

PT11-54

While my main focus remained now on another project at the shop, I still worked on the dinghy most days to continue various epoxy and related steps that were close to being, but not yet, done.

On Monday, I applied a second coat of epoxy to the rudder case, after sanding lightly the first coat, and with the same batch of epoxy applied another coat inside the holes bored for the rowlocks.

On Tuesday, I continued the process on the rudder case, with a third and final coat of epoxy on all sides.

I unmasked the rowlocks, now that the epoxy work was complete there.

At the aft seat, I bunged the screw holes from installation, installing the bungs in thickened epoxy to ensure that the screw holes were filled and watertight, since the installation screws had necessarily penetrated the aft buoyancy tanks.

With this work complete, on Wednesday I could get to some of the final preparations required for primer, mainly cleanup and masking.  I pared away the excess bungs from the aft seat cleats (sorry, forgot to photograph this), and, after cleaning the inside of the boat thoroughly, masked over the various new installations on the aft hull:  aft cleats, foot cleats, and rowlock risers, along with the connecting hardware.  On the forward hull, I masked the connecting hardware and the inside of the mast tube.

Since I had varnish underway for another project at the shop, it was a good opportunity to start the process on the tiller and tiller extension.

To give me better access to the inside of the hulls for painting, I dismantled the 4×8 plywood build table I’d constructed atop one of my normal shop benches, as this work table addition had increased the height by 4″ and made things awkward for reaching inside.  With the boat essentially complete, I no longer had need for the big table, and with it dismantled, I could set one half on the now-lower-and-narrower table, and the other half on a pair of sawhorses of similar height.  Now I was ready for primer whenever I had a time window.

 

Danusia Phase 2-10

To begin, I finished up the masking around the brightwork on the cabintop.

Afterwards, I applied the first coat of varnish to all the wood.  This was a heavily-thinned down coat (approximately 50%) to allow the varnish to soak in to the bare wood.  Even so, there are few more immediately satisfying things than applying the first coat of varnish to bare wood.  The transformation was instantaneous and pleasing.

Danusia Phase 2-9

I spent the morning scrubbing the nonskid with rags and solvent to clean the surface as much as possible.  This did have a good effect on most areas, and in any event I now thought that the surface was prepared as well as it could be for recoating.

When the work on the nonskid was done, I cleaned the brightwork and surrounding areas as well to prepare for masking and eventual refinishing.

I spent the afternoon masking the brightwork, taking care of both toerails, both eyebrows, the anchor platform, and cockpit coamings before the end of the day.  I’d finish up the coachroof areas next time.

Danusia Phase 2-8

The owner asked me to refresh the nonskid.  The existing nonskid was not original, but had been painted with KiwiGrip sometime in the past.  Overall, it was still in good structural condition, but the original application was somewhat uneven in texture, though still doing its job.   The texture was quite rough and aggressive in many areas.

Because it was well-adhered and in good condition overall, I thought preparing the surface for a new coating of the same material required enough sanding to flatten the peaks, remove some of the texture, and provide a reasonable surface to which the new coating could adhere.  I wanted to get all the heavy sanding work out of the way on deck now, before beginning to apply new finishes, so  my first step was to sand the existing nonskid with 80 grit, keeping away from the gelcoated borders (though the thickness of the nonskid coating tended to hold the sander up just high enough) and flattening the old texture, though stopping well short of any attempts to completely smooth the surface or remove the old coating entirely.  This also did not remove all the discoloration and staining from the depths of the old texture, but I planned to wash the decks next time.  This work, and an initial cleanup, consumed the bulk of the day.

At the end of the day, I took a few minutes to install teak bungs in some unused bolt holes in the anchor platform, where the small anchor roller had been, and to repair one missing bung at the aft end of the port toerail.

 

PT11-53

It seemed a good day to finish up some of the last details required before moving on to primer and paint.  I started with the aft seat cleats, which I’d already epoxy-coated and varnished.  To install the cleats, I masked off a portion of the aft tanks, and taped the plywood seat in place so I could roughly determine the fore and aft position of the cleats.  The cleats were longer than the seat was wide, and were designed to extend beyond the seat by a bit on both sides.  By eye, I determined the placement and made a mark on one side, which I duplicated on the other.  This gave me the forward end of the cleats; then, I marked a line 7/8″ down from the top of the aft tanks, which represented the top edge of the cleats. From there, I dry-installed the cleats with two screws each, which screws would also hold the cleats later when gluing in place.

Note that in these photos, I had the boat propped vertically with the transom on the floor, which gave me the best access for this work.

With the cleats thus installed, I cut around them with a knife and, after removing the cleats, pulled the tape from the footprints.  Then, I installed the cleats permanently in thickened epoxy in the usual way, pulling the masking tape once I’d cleaned up the squeezeout.

Next, I unclamped the rudder case and spent some time sanding it clean and smooth.  I block sanded flush the ends where the 18mm plywood spacer met the edges, and rounded over and sanded smooth the edges of the plywood, with a small roundover hand-sanded on the inside edges of the plywood as well.  I built a simple plywood support stick that friction-fit inside the case, leaving all edges and sides accessible at once for epoxy-coating, the first coat of which I applied now.  I clamped the stick to the bench to let the epoxy cure all over.  There’d be a couple additional coats of epoxy over the next several days.

For the rowlocks, my next step was to drill through the gunwales for the 5/8″ bore required for the rowlocks themselves; the wooden risers had this 5/8″ hole already installed, which acted as a guide to drill through the gunwales.  I clamped a sacrificial board beneath each location so the drill wouldn’t break out and damage the underside of the gunwales.  I dry-fitted the rowlock bases to make sure the flanges fit flat against the riser; on one location I ran the drill bit through again to slightly open up the bottom part of the hole and allow the barrel of the rowlock base to fit properly and allow the flange to sit flush.

Those would get permanently installed later, but now I masked off around the holes and treated the new bores with epoxy, using a small brush to coat the insides of the holes.  I’d do at least one more coat later before calling this complete.

Danusia Phase 2-7

With the rest of the brightwork stripped and sanded, I turned to a few loose parts I’d removed:  the pedestal table and companionway swashboards.  These also required stripping and sanding so they could be refinished.

After removing hardware, I stripped and sanded the wood clean.

Danusia Phase 2-5

Now that I’d removed all the old finish by scraping, it was time to finish cleaning up and preparing the wood with sanding.  Starting at the starboard bow, and the anchor platform, I worked throughout the say to sand all the teak with 80-120 grit paper, working my way down the toerail/rubrail, as well as the eyebrow trim and outboard side of the coamings.  I used a small palm sander where I could, and by hand as needed for tight areas, curves, and in particular the long lengths of headsail tracks along the aft quarter of the toerail, where the overhanging track prohibited access by anything other than hand sanding.

I continued around the taffrail, and up the port side from there, making it about halfway up the port side (to the forward end of the headsail track) by the end of the day.  I might have finished the port side (and had intended to), but lost an hour earlier in the day trying to fix (and succeeding thanks to hosting support chat) yesterday’s website upload problem (apparently I’d used up my disk space on my VPN, which was a surprise since I thought it was unlimited ( and was why I switched to a VPN some years ago)) since I couldn’t get hold of my web guru (who was supposed to be available for these behind-the-scenes things that I clearly don’t understand).  I’ll be looking for a new web guru from here.  (And now I’m done with the parentheticals.)

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