I thought this might be helpful for anyone starting out. It was a pretty thick seam, that has 3M 218 tape at the bottom. LikeCalk is the product, and it's quite dry outside, so I'll be yanking the tape in a day or so.
There are two numbers that are in my mind right now. Well, three if you count the nearly 1000 point gain in the Dow today. But let's focus on the other two.
The first number is $39,000, which is roughly what I've saved in doing my own labor over a year's time. If that sounds shocking, realize that I spend about 10 hours a week working on the boat. That's either one long day on the weekend, or just two afternoons scattered around throughout a week. So if you do the math of $75/hour * 52 weeks * 10 hours, you get $39,000.
The second number is $96, which is how much (with my discount) the items in the picture cost. Four tubes of caulk, and two rolls of tape. Ouch. So even though I'm saving $39,000 over a year's time, materials and tools are expensive. Right now I'm borrowing a Fein MultiMaster, but I'll certainly need to get my own soon, which is another $400.
Expanding on that for a second, it's worth noting that whether or not I did my own work or hired someone, that $96 worth of materials would be sent my way regardless.
So I suppose what I've figured out is that yes, I am saving an insane amount of money by doing my own work. And when buying materials, I need to realize that these are costs that I would carry regardless.
Leaving the numbers aside for a minute, let's talk about the overwhelming and spooky aspect of owning a boat. You are responsible for an incredible amount of systems, people's lives, and a lot of investment dollars. Anything you can do to make yourself more knowledgeable about your vessel will only add to your confidence. The more you do yourself, the more you learn, and the more relaxed you will be at sea and on the hook.
Now that I've spent multiple hours on my knees pulling out old polysulfide caulking, I'll be damned if I'm going to repeat this again any sooner than I need to. Beyond the fact that it's rather rough work, there are a lot of other projects on the boat I need to move on to.
So, I'm applying 3M 218 (a "bond breaker") tape to the bottom of the seams. That's the little white line in the bottom of the seam there.
The idea is simple. The only thing that needs to be watertight is the the connection between the two vertical surfaces. The horizontal surface on the bottom doesn't matter, since a proper seal on the top will cause the bottom to never see the light of day.
Even worse, the bottom of the seam actually causes problems. If the polysulfide sticks to the bottom, it is "anchored" there. So when the two vertical surfaces move around (which is the reason you're using a flexible material like polysulfide), the anchored polysulfide can break away from the vertical surfaces. Otherwise, the bonded bottom is more likely to cause the vertical surfaces to separate from the polysulfide.
For big seams, I would recommend cutting down the tape to the correct width. For those of you with properly prepared seams, ready to lay down (sailor term: pay the seam) more caulking, you will no doubt agree that the idea of cheaping out at this time is crazy. If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing right.
For corners or curves like above, chop the tape into one inch segments, and use the blunt end of a pen or dowel to press it into the seam. Drink a beer and give it an hour or so to stick.
I was talking to my friend Ryan the other day about how I think I found the worst job when it comes to boat maintenance: removing caulking. It's slow, you're on your knees, it requires precision, and if you do a bad job you'll have to redo the whole thing and start from zero again.
On our Hans Christian, the caulking is everywhere. The little black lines between every piece of wood, and between wood and fiberglass is caulking. Technically it's polysulfide, and one of the big aspects of this type of sealant is that it's flexible.
Unlike a home, boats flex. They are under considerable load, and the hull will flex quite a bit (check out this sailboat in a storm to imagine the load on the deck). So when you're sticking two pieces of material together, you need to make sure that it (A) forms a water tight bond, so you don't get leaks and that (B) it can flex so that the material doesn't snap in half the minute the boat gets twisted by a wave.
Overtime, the flexing and shifting of the materials on either side of the caulking causes the caulking to separate from wood (or fiberglass, or whatever). When this happens, the caulking must be removed, the materials must be prepped for caulking, and new caulking applied. If applied correctly, caulking should last around ten years. If done poorly, you'll need to redo the whole thing as soon as it's dry and start over again from zero.
There are various ways to remove the stuff, ranging from a bent screwdriver, to a tool that looks like a bent screwdriver, all the way up to the Fein MultiMaster. Coming in around $400, it's not a cheap instrument. However, it saves an amazing amount of time.
Coupled with a wood chisel and a tool that looks like a bent screwdriver (but was made for the job), I've had pretty good success as of late. In fact, it's not my most hated job anymore. The worst job, by far, is still replacing the sanitation hoses for a head; that task should be banned by the Geneva Convention.
As a middle class white kid from the city who works in a super corporate office environment, I have a lot of "urban" friends and associates. My friends drink wine, or a nice high end beer, and consider ourselves city intellectuals.
I have to admit, I like the feeling of my collar turning from white to blue a bit when I do some of this work. I like knowing what a *real* work day is all about. I like knowing that I'm able to do something that you can't wing it on. You can't pretend to know how to be a craftsman, and you can't bullshit your way through a hard day's work.
I've got a lot to learn on my journey through manual labor and using my hands to create things. I've learned a new found respect for those people who are covered in grease and are able to keep the gears of industry alive and well. Think it's easy? Try it sometime. If you think smart kids go to college and dumb ones become diesel mechanics, let me tell you first hand that a communications major is a piece of cake compared to truly understanding the beauty and complexity of a marine diesel power plant.
Okay, so I've moved off topic a bit from the Fein MultiMaster. I'll just close with these parting words.
There's a barrier to entry that gets bigger the older we get. When we're young, none of us are good at anything, so it's an equal playing field. But as we get older, we get specialized in our jobs, habits, thoughts, and lifestyle. Venturing outside of those realms causes problems. As children, w didn't need to worry about other kids being any better than we were. But as adults, where would you even start if you wanted to get into, let's say, diesel mechanics? The idea sounds so absurd that we write it off immediately.
The problem is that the knee jerk reaction of "sorry, that's not my thing, I'm sticking to what I know already" isn't just about our jobs, it extends to our vision of this world and how we see others. That barrier to entry that keeps us from starting projects that will lead to initial bouts of awkwardness and discomfort, is the same barrier that keeps us from understanding other people and embracing different cultures and lifestyles.
And yes, I thought about all of this while scraping caulking using my (borrowed) Fien MultiMaster.
I've been doing a lot of wood work lately: heat gunning, scraping, varnishing, sanding, cleaning, caulking, and varnishing. When I first started this type of work, I really wasn't into it. I'm a middle class software developer from the city: hardly from a background of using my hands and busting my ass via physical labor all day. But I've come to appreciate this new found world of physical labor.
There are some obvious advantages:
It is much cheaper than paying others. Bargain basement labor rates for someone who knows what they're doing is $15/hour under the table (don't tell the IRS). That comes out to roughly $255 a week for the amount of work that I've done.
It's even cheaper than that, because there's no way a hired laborer is going to work as hard as I am. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. It sucks, but it's true.
I'm smarter now. Future maintenance is going to be easier, resulting in even less time being spent.
I lost a few pounds. When you're outside working there aren't any chips to munch on, and you're constantly moving and flexing. Working on a boat is a "poor man's pilates".
If the chips are down and life throws me a one-two punch to the solar plexus, I can always dust off my trusty tools and make some spare money doing wood work. Sure, it's not a cushy corporate job, but any skills that could potentially add to the bank account are worth their weight in gold.
I should note that I spent about 30 hours over the last week working on the boat, and only about 15 minutes of that with a beer in my hand. Sadly.
The mast is getting much closer. This morning I stopped by and dropped off the hardware that has been sitting in the quarter berth for the last six months. All the small pieces were in individual Zip-Lock bags, with their position (starboard, 56" up from base) written on the bag.
I put some pictures up on the gallery, so you can see some of the extremely high quality workmanship that went into this project so far.
We're also ditching the roller furler and putting hanks on the yankee. Go ahead, call me old fashioned. But that's one less line running along the deck (although I'll probably add a downhaul), and a couple less moving parts. Also, here's some sobering advice from Larry Pardey:
The most common at-sea rigging failures we observe tend to be shrouds or headstays failing due to metal fatigue. The majority seem to be the stays inside roller furling headsails.
Beyond that, I just really don't like moving parts, and especially parts I don't understand that well.
Update on Monday, September 22, 2008 at 09:02 by
Eric
Huzzah! It's been painted! I dropped off all the hardware on Friday, and there's now a pretty white mast waiting some rigging and spreaders. I've had the option of doing some of the remaining work myself, but honestly I've been busy as hell working on other parts of the boat over the last few weeks.
When I was a sailor in the US Navy, I had a uniform. Several, of course. Now that I'm a civilian sailor, I also have a defacto uniform. For me, my clothing has to be able to accomplish certain goals.
1) It has to be durable. I mean insanely durable. Able to stand up to paint, acetone, sun, salt, sharp objects, heat, cold, and being thrown into a ball.
2) It has to be inexpensive, to a point. I don't mind paying for quality, but I don't want to spend money on a company's advertising or "image".
3) It has to look somewhat normal in a social setting. Usually there's a pendulum swing between fashion and function, and I certainly start in the functional realm and try to make it somewhat fashionable. I don't look like I strolled off the cover of GQ, but I'm not in blue overalls wearing a beanie.
Starting off, I now rock the Dorfman Pacfic Men's Ultra Lightweight Safari Hat. It is incredibly comfortable, light on the head, and keeps the sun at bay very well. It also looks slightly cowbow-ish, so you get a couple of points in the fashion category, although not so many that if you get it a little messed up you'll feel bad about it. It's also cheap at $20 - $30, so if you really mess it up you won't feel terrible if you have to buy a new one.
Next up are my Dickies Shorts (model 42283). These shorts form the core arsenal of my clothing line up. I ride my bike in them, work on the boat in them, sail in them, and go to dinner in them. They are an amazing product.
Coming in a little below the knee, crawling on your knees these have you covered, and sitting in a cockpit with the sun beating down on you, the tops of your knees are shielded.
For my upper body, I'll wear T-shirts when I'm working, with sunscreen on my arms. A good way to build up your T-shirt collection is to find shirts for sale from organizations you want to support (Obama 2008, ACLU, etc).
But when sailing, or spending a lot of time in the sun, I go with the lightweight nylon shirts made from Columbia or REI. Essentially they're the same thing: long sleeve, lightweight, dries quick, and keeps the sun off you. These can get a little pricey ($30 - $60), so I try to avoid wearing them if I'm going to be doing disgusting work (teak caulking, etc).
As another bonus to these, they have a collar and are more formal than a T-shirt. So they can do double duty as a collared shirt if you need to clear into customs and things of that sort.
They may be popular to hate, but my Crocs are a God send for me. They dry out instantly, provide rather secure footing (except for wet concrete in which case they become ice skates), are cheap ( $30 ), and make my feet happy and healthy.
They also cover your toes, so if you're on your knees working your toes don't get mangled like they do in flip flops. Also, they cover the primary horizontal surface of your foot from the sun, another benefit to sailing with them.
So there you go. Perhaps not the most fashionable items in the world, but for my money, they are the most durable and useful for a life at sea and in a boat yard.
In case I wasn't enough of a city liberal (I'm a big Obama supporter, and order soy lattes), I ordered some food from amazon.com. Amazon started putting some items into its grocery section, along with an option to have those items show up on subscription. So if you go through 10 boxes of mac n' cheese in a month, why not have it show up regularly? One less thing you need to worry about.
I'm not entirely sold on the idea, but I wanted to give it a shot and see how it would work out for us. So far, so good. I don't really look at it as "buying my groceries online" as much as I see it as "augmenting my our groceries where it makes sense."
For this batch it was soy milk and mac n' cheese, although I think I might have a few more items on deck as well.
As with all maritime foods, I quickly removed the cardboard from the products, keeping the roach-trafficking cardboard in the cockpit. In a more suspect area I'd keep it on the dock.
I'll report in more later, but so far so good with my super duper web 2.0 city liberal online food purchase.
Some of you might have lawns to walk past when you walk away from your home in the morning. Not us. You'll notice the yellowtail tuna scattered around the sidewalk, pools of fish blood, and odd looking fish buyers walking around.
Just thought some of my maritime friends might appreciate this shot. It's an old anti-siphon for the head sea water intake, with the new one sitting next to it, and a lighter for scale. The big knob on top of the new one was completely gone on the old one.