Since I’ve recently added quite a few photos to the album showing off our fabulous winter on the hard, I thought I’d spend a little time highlighting a few of the jobs we did. You’ll read this and say, “gee, I could have gotten a lot more done in four months,” and you’ll be right. You’re always right, you salty dog.
I discussed the problems that have kept us out of the water in a previous post. We’d hoped to splash the boat repowered and with a nice new bottom in December, and then leisurely tackle our interior projects from the comfort of a marina in downtown St. Petersburg. As it sits, I don’t remember what a boat bobbing around in its slip feels like, as the Compass has been a forty-seven foot long treehouse since November.
Here are some of the highlights from our winter on the hard. Be sure to take a look at the album for a more tedious (if you can believe it) version of the story.
Practicing throwing acid, in case I become a villain's henchman someday.
There were things we rushed to get done when the boat came out of the water, since we actually believed it would be going back someday. We cleaned and removed the two blade, feathering Max Prop, as well as the old saildrive. We’ve taken the the prop apart, cleaned and inspected the mechanisms, and it appears to be in good shape. Charlie has always wanted a Max Prop, so we’re very pleased with our good fortune in that regard. We listed the old saildrive on eBay and some other websites, thinking someone would want it for parts, but it’s still in our garage, collecting dust (which only improves its looks).
He's either doing cosplay or preparing for a nuclear attack (or doing cosplay of a guy preparing for a nuclear attack).
We had plenty of time to walk around the outside of the boat being very critical of things, which is good, of course, but it always leads to Charlie dressed up in a Tyvek suit sanding fiberglass. We’re not big fiberglass lovers. Raw fiberglass gives me hives and sanded fiberglass does the same for Charlie. Together we’re like some new race of devolved, immunity-impaired bubble people (except that would mean we were related, which is either really gross, or really kinky). This winter, Charlie filled three old through-hulls, and drilled a new one for our speed transducer. He touched up some scrapes around the saildrive hole (I still don’t have a better name for this), repaired some delamination on the skeg, and fixed some cracks in the giant rudder. We’ve also done a little fairing here and there, but the boat didn’t need any major work in that regard, believe it or not. Not a blister to be found (I’ve jinxed us, haven’t I?).
I wonder if my little brother ever looks at pictures of me and thinks about how alike we look?
The Compass came with a single cylinder Mase Mariner diesel generator installed in the starboard lazarette. According to the meter, the thing only has seven hours on it, so it was out of the boat, and up for sale! Lucky for me, I’m only five-feet tall and still relatively small-of-ass. This means I get tight-space duty, and there are plenty of those jobs available on this boat. After all the wiring, mounts, and copious amounts of loose, old sound-deadening were off, we removed the beast with the help of the boatyard manager and his trusty forklift.
Charlie used to work as a yacht rigger at SSMR, a rigging shop that’s well-known both here in town, and to all sort of sailors across the globe who connect with the shop’s owners on forums and mailing lists here on the Internet. Steve, Jennifer, and Andrew let their eager former employee use their shop to measure and cut and swage together some new lifelines for the Compass. Having a yacht rigger for a partner in a project like this comes in handy, let me tell you.
Most of our winter was taken up by one project. Well, one project that entails giving very careful attention to almost every interior surface of the boat. My, did we spend a lot of time varnishing.
Charlie is one of those. As I’ve mentioned before, his previous boat, a 1971 S&S 34, looked like museum inside. I still haven’t figured out if he loves to varnish, or if he really just loves varnished wood. Either way we end up high on fumes, so the reasons don’t seem all that important. Though the wood on the Compass was in rough shape when we found her, it’s really high quality stuff. With a little love, most of it has recovered nicely. The boards that make up the cabin sole are probably the best bit. They’re thick, and we’ve been able to machine sand them to remove lots of who-knows-what that they all seemed to be covered with. Any photos I take will not do the varnish job justice. I wasn’t sure that anyone could rescue the interior of the Compass, but Charlie has made a believer out of me.
So there it is. It may be disappointing that we spent the winter on the hard, but we gotten quite a bit done. We were blessed to find this budget beauty, and we’ve been lucky to have the help we did from Charlie’s father, the folks at the boatyard, and a few good industry connections. Now that the saildrive/engine bed project is finally underway, we’re able to make out a little glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.