Anyone Fancy Spaghetti?

Ok, so we have decided to fit a woodburning stove into our boat.  We have thought long and hard about whether to fit one and, if so, where would it go.  We didn't want to lose seating space in the saloon so the only option really is to remove the chart table and cupboard and build a hearth in its place.  I am a fan of paper charts.  They aren't reliant on fancy electronics, power supplies and software updates and so, to me, losing the chart table is a big decision.  However, I can always use the saloon table to do chartwork and perhaps I should grasp the nettle and buy myself some decent software for use on a laptop as my primary means of navigation.

However, it's not only the table that presents a problem.  The instrumentation is mounted on the bulkhead in front of the table and the electrical switch panel is next to it.  So all of this needs to be relocated.

I think I might be able to leave the switch panel in situ and protect it with a fireproof bulkhead, but the electronic displays need to be moved.  I have started to tackle the spaghetti of wiring behind the panel making sure all wires are labelled as they are diconnected.  I plan to pull the wiring through and build a new display panel on the side wall.  But should I keep all the instruments.  Is Navtex worth keeping? and the chart plotter is pretty dated now, particularly if I'm going down the route of using a laptop.  Any advice gratefully received.

More wiring tomorrow.....and oh yes, how to choose the right stove?

Fast Forward

Readers may have gathered that I am writing this retrospectively.  We initially embarked on this adventure in October 2019 hoping to be living onboard in time to celebrate Christmas in our new home.  This turned out to be wholly unrealistic given the amount of work that was needed.  We are still very much in the thick of it and there's still lots to do, but we have turned the corner and rebuild is underway.  For tonight's blog I thought I would fast forward and bring you up to date with the work done so far.

We ended up having to remove the whole of the deck structure which, although was unwelcome additional work, will give us the peace of mind that we will have a complete new deck that should outlast us.  Removing the deck also revealed a few rotten deck beams and frame heads that needed to be addressed.  Thankfully John, our shipwright, is one of those people who appears to be totally unfazed by anything and he calmly set to work cutting out the rot and scarfing in new timbers before completely replacing the shear strakes.  We also have removed both Samson posts and both breast hooks and we're awaiting on the arrival of some pieces of oak from which to fashion replacements.

We have also spent many hours scraping off the antifoul coatings and burning back the hull paint.  The hull is now fully painted with zinc based primer and is awaiting topcoats.  This time of year is not the best for painting, but we have little choice in the matter and we're making the best of a bad situation.

Also, all of the toe rails, rubbing strips and capping strips have been stripped of varnish, sanded back and are now being given several coats of Deks Olje to bring them back to gleaming wood.  We're both learning a lot about surface coatings and the monotony of preparation, but we are fortunate to have a group of people around us in the boatyard who are more than happy to pass on their knowledge, and words of encouragement.

Another area of concern was the rudder tube.  The exposed part below the waterline looked badly corroded and so the rest of the tube was suspect.  If the rudder tube were to fail it would be like having a 3-inch hole in the keel of the boat and if don't think the bilge pumps would be able to keep up with the rush of seawater.  I removed the whole rudder assembly and drove out the tube to inspect it.  Thankfully the tube itself is absolutely fine so a quick clean and it is ready for refitting.

So this is where we are now at.  Hopefully tomorrow we will be able to make the breast hooks and I am also hoping that the back order of bolts for the beam shelf will arrive so that I can get to the stage of relaying the deck.  However, we have now made the decision to try and fit a woodburning stove into the saloon, so I am going to have to rethink the layout of the nav instruments.  Rewiring will be easier with the side decks off!

More tomorrow...…….

What Have We Bought?

On the face of it we have bought a 42 foot wooden sailing boat, built in 1965 by David Hillyard based in Littlehampton, England.  She is a Bermudan rigged ketch with a deep centre cockpit and, unusually for a Hillyard, has extensive use of teak in the superstructure and deck fittings.  But what have we really bought?

Someone once told us that a sailing boat is a hole in the water into which you pour money.  This may well prove to be true.  However, we firmly believe that we have bought a source of dreams, adventure, and alternative living.  We also now know that we have bought a huge amount of hard work, frustration and panic.  But we need to break it all down into manageable chunks.  The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time (which I wouldn't do because I'm a vegetarian!)

The main problems with the boat concern the main deck areas, the top planks (shear strakes) and a couple of areas of soft wood on the bow (plank hood ends).  There are some areas of the foredeck that sound hollow, suggesting rot underneath, but may just be delamination.  However, until the deck sheathing is removed we will not know how bad this is.  So let's start by removing deck fittings, guardrails, stanchions, cleats, toe rails, etc, etc, etc!

This is easier said than done.  Most of the screws, nuts and bolts have not been disturbed in nearly 55 years, and appeared quite happy where they were.  However, after many hours and several cutting discs later, the deck fittings were all removed.  I now set about removing the deck sheathing.  The deck itself is constructed from pine tongue and groove planks, covered with marine plywood and then encased in something called cascover sheathing, which is basically resin impregnated canvas.  In most parts it had done its job well but there were areas of earlier repairs that weren't so good.  I ripped up the sheathing and plywood to reveal the deck planking, which appeared to be generally good.  However, on closer inspection it was clear that the whole deck needed to come up in order to repair the shear strakes and other areas of rot.  This was definitely more than we bargained for.  Still, best crack on...…………..

Boat Surveys Contain Surprises!

Ok, so we had our boat hauled out of the water onto a covered slipway with power and lighting - a rare treat for owners of large boats - and engaged the services of a boat surveyor.  He spent a whole day going over the boat with a fine-toothed comb, lifting floorboards, opening cupboards and poking at bits of wood with a spike.  Needless to say that he came up with a long list of things that needed attention, urgent or otherwise, many of which had names that I had never even heard of before.  Who would have known that there were such things as futtock bolts, beam shelves and blakes valves?  Thankfully though, when I passed a copy of the survey report to our shipwright he was nonplussed and said that between us we could sort everything out.

Of course, once the dust had settled and we read through the report more closely we realised that there were words like 'unknown' and 'suspect' scattered liberally throughout.  This was to come back and bite us later.

Now it needs to be said that this entire project hinged on us selling our house in order to raise the necessary funds.  We imagined that it would take months to sell, having spoken with several estate agents and got a valuation on the property.  However, as luck would have it, a friend of a friend knew someone who was looking to buy, was in rented accommodation and had cash in the bank - no mortgages, no chain.  This seemed too good to be true, but true it turned out to be.  Within two months we had completed the sale of our house and purchase of our boat.  The only downside was that we were now homeless!  Add to that the fact that we had amassed so much 'stuff' over the years which we now needed to either get rid of or find a home for.  Downsizing is a challenge!!

Tomorrow the work starts.

Up the Creek (Searching for a Paddle)

How did we get here?  It’s the middle of December, the weather is cold and wet, and we are ripping apart a 55 year old sailing boat that is to become our home.  We have sold our house and are living in temporary accommodation in order to fund this crazy adventure.  So why do this?



We had been living in a rural village in West Wales.  Our two sons had left home to follow their dreams at university and we were beginning to imagine whether we could see ourselves living out our days hoping for the occasional visit from children.  Don’t get me wrong.  We had a beautiful 200 year old stone built house on the edge of the village with no immediate neighbours, a lovely garden, and a substantial garage cum workshop.  In many respects we had a great life...……..but we both started to feel that we wanted to live life differently.  We could have moved to a different house, but this would not have given us the 'different life.'  We then stumbled across a few YouTube stories of people living onboard boats, and we both thought, yeah, why not?

We have both always been drawn to the coast and seas.  I have done some offshore sailing but my wife has never sailed.  In fact, she always had felt seasick when taking the ferry to France.  But the seed had been planted and we soon found ourselves looking at countless boats for sale on the internet.  But, what type of boat?

We initially toyed with the idea of a canal boat and went looking in marinas and canals near to us.  There are some beautiful narrowboats and the ingenuity and imagination of their owners is clear to see.  Living onboard is a well-trodden (tow)path and we could have gone this route.  However, we felt too land-locked and, although you can access the coast and sea from some of the UK's inland waterways, it was not right for us.

We then looked at sailing boats.  Again, there are literally thousands of boats for sale but we quickly agreed on what we didn't want.  We wanted something made of wood, preferably with some history, and with enough space in which to live and to be able to have visitors stay with us.  And so it was that we came across Wendy Woo.

Wendy Woo is a David Hillyard 20 ton Ketch, built in 1965, and is 42' in length.  She has accommodation for 4 and sufficient space to live comfortably onboard.  We arranged to view her in Dartmouth on a beautiful autumn day and we immediately fell in love with her.  The broker made it clear that she needed some work and that he knew of a place nearby that could carry it out.  More importantly, we would be able to work alongside the shipwright in order to keep costs down.  And so the adventure began.  A price was agreed and she was hauled out of the water at the beginning of October 2019 for a full survey.

Next instalment tomorrow...…..