February 28, 2010 The range of feelings we can experience is truly amazing. The temporal proximity that these feelings can have relative to each other is even more fascinating.
The last few sessions with dr k. (kayak not Kevorkian) resulted in no new lessons. Joints 19 through 24 were cemented pretty much the same way that joints 1 through 18 were. I'll admit that my hand is more sure and what I was just beginning to learn only a few days ago is evolving into a bit of a skill. Trepidation is receding...
I spent a little time today trimming the excess epoxy and fiberglass from the hull pieces and then sanding out any humps in the epoxy. The four deck panels, like all parts of the hull, are made of 3/16" thick mahogany plywood. Since the deck will probably be stepped on when entering, the areas around the cockpit must be reinforced with a few scraps of plywood. All in all, a pretty easy day's work.
The next big step involves drilling a bunch of holes in the hull. Each slice of the hull and deck will receive about 64 pokes with a 1/16" drill bit and there are 12 panels - that's 768 holes!! These holes in the hull (what the hell!?) will be used to pass baling wire through to temporarily "stitch" the parts of the hull together. Then a blend of epoxy with a thixotropic agent (that's a fancy word for fine sawdust in my case, but more on that at a later date) is filleted (a new application for a word that I thought had to do with a piece of fish) into the joint... Trepidation returns as I come face to face with myself once again.
As I descend into the basement for each lesson, I pass the stereo and the iPod that Ryan encouraged me to connect, thus relegating our colorful collection of CDs to the category of dust-collectors. As I flip through the myriad of artists, genres, or albums, depending on which menu I chose to leaf through, I subconsciously select the music that I need in order to move from the state I am in, to the proper frame of mind for the task ahead. Starting a new lesson, better pick something mellow that won't distract me, ah yes, Norah Jones, "Come Away with Me"; getting in the groove with today's work (that would be joints 7 through 12) pick up the pace with some Etta James "At last"; conquered this task, The Who "I'm the Gypsy, the Acid Queen!".
But these 700 plus holes in the hull which require 350 plus strands of wire, and each to be twisted just so, to align the members of the hull, eh-boy, they make me nervous. So, traversing the iPod along the album tree, I stop at "Riding with the King". BB and Clapton, together-WOW! Grab the instruction manual and prepare to review the details of drilling and stitching, making sure I understand what I am about to do, while BB and Eric massage my soul.
But a stressful situation like this requires some levity in order to loosen up the spirit so that the information can flow freely into the mind. That is where the hat comes in. I reach for the silliest hat I own, the vibrantly bright turquoise one Bobbie will not let me wear on walks with her; adjust it so that it conceals just enough of my face. Before evaluating myself in the mirror, I look down for a minute and think about the scary new lesson ahead. If done right these next few steps will begin to transform the largely 2 dimensional planks into a sleek, sinuous vessel that will glide me through the water to places that, at the moment, I can only see with my mind's eye. But if I get the seams wrong... then I raise my head so that I can just about see myself, but depart just before catching my own eye. And as I walk away clutching the manual, a grin begins to form. It may yet end up being a fine vessel to be one with.
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