“Snow is for children, you get out of school, it’s slippery, you can throw it at people, [heck] you can even eat it. [and little boys can write their names in canary with it]”. Sean McKenzie

Sometime around March 5, 2010 – The last posting showed a photo of the pieces of the hull ready to be joined together. Said photo was accompanied by a commentary about hundreds of hull holes, half as many wires and my shenanigans aimed at distracting me from my fears about poking so many holes into a vessel that needs to be waterproof.

Well, 264 wires have been placed into 555 holes (for those who can’t help but play with numbers when they see them, “why isn’t hole:wire::2:1 ?” some of the wires went through 3 holes, the third being the temporary braces that help to create the hull’s initial curvature). But I am getting ahead of the process.

Since the last posting, we received another snowfall of about 8 inches, our neighbor, Arlin, turned 80, and a lot of wires and planks of mahogany were joined. The Philadelphia area was already into record territory before this snowfall. So, time was spent digging out again. In many cases this is the only time I see some of my neighbors during the winter, so it usually turns into a series of updates over the snow blower throttle. On occasion, I pick up a shoe-fly pie made by Arlin's wife Esther as a 'thank-you" for digging them out. This was one of those occasions. I guess I can rationalize eating the delectable calorie-laden preparation because of the exercise I have just done.

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The snow rode in on winds, creating drifts that gently twisted, reminding me of the curves soon to be formed in the planks that will form my kayak. This drift hung around for several days before surrendering to the warming rays of March. I was able to get Bobbie to pause and smile in a pose under the drift. It warms my heart to know that she trusts me.



All tolled, this storm brought our total to about 3 feet of standing snow with mounds piled as high as 6 feet, 15 to 20 feet in large parking lots.



Back to matters of kayak building...


Having read and reread the next set of instructions, and feeling confident, I located my 1/16" drill bit and wire cutter and began drilling and "stitching" the hull together. The first 2 pieces to be joined make up the center of the hull, called the keel - though there is no protrusion from the plane of the hull. This was an important moment of truth. A few nights ago, while laying in bed, mentally rehearsing the assembly process, I realized that a small error while joining the parts of the keel planks could result in a significant problem.

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You may recall that each plank that makes up the 16' hull was created by joining two 8' pieces. A small error of 1/16 of an inch at the joint would be exaggerated over the 8 foot length beyond the seam and a gap of 1/2 inch would result. Do that to both halves of the keel planks (in opposing directions) and you have a one inch discrepancy. Do that to both planks in the same direction and your boat looks like it has a case of peyronie's disease. Not good at all. To add to my heebiejeebies, this thought did not occur to me until after the joints were hard and fast. I hoped I had taken the appropriate care when I initially jointed the boards.







As it turned out, the two pieces fit together like they were made for each other. This view shows the wires in place, though not tightened. A critical eye sees that the gap is consistent along the entire length of the seam. Consequently, when the wires were tightened, the keel straightened up like a conservative getting the latest view on how to think from Rush.

Looking closely at the tips of the planks, you can barely discern the curvature at the end. When these tips are brought together, the shape begins to rise gently from the plane of the keel and begins to form the bow of the boat.

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Once these two pieces are tightly coupled, the process involves adding successive planks to form the hull.

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As soon as the keel and two neighboring pieces are wired in place, temporary braces are added to help pull the sides of the hull up, forming the cavity of the hull. At this point, the craft is very wobbly and unstable and probably shouldn't be called a craft at all. As each successive piece is added, it looks more and more like a kayak, though flimsy.

More than one onlooker has looked askance at the wood and expressed doubt about its seaworthiness. However, the wood is only there to provide shape and beauty (the wood grain is 100% visible after the clear epoxy coating) the fiberglass and epoxy will provide the strength.

Soon, more epoxy will be measured, mixed, and massaged into the cracks to make the shape more durable and it will be on to the next lesson.

Eric Clapton, BB King, a hat, & a mirror

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.

What DO you do with all of those paint cans and wood scraps anyway?

Friday, February 26 Ok, this looks a lot like the picture from yesterday. What is different is in me. read on.

You may have sensed my trepidation about this project from yesterday's post. What I didn't say yesterday was that my reading suggested to me that the epoxy would be tacky within 2 hours. THREE hours after I applied the epoxy it was still very wet. FOUR hours - the same. (That's why I was up so late last night Sean).


I went to bed thinking that I would wake up to a dozen pieces of wood that would have to be cleaned of the poorly mixed epoxy. What I found was a shimmering, crystal clear bond that was almost as hard as a rock. It will take another day to reach that point. I guess it is safe to continue.

I suspect that your experience with epoxy, like mine, is limited to the small tube you buy to fix the nick-nacks that the dog knocked over. I am playing with a few gallons of the stuff on a small investment. It has to be mixed carefully (the manufacturer suggests the use of a scale that is accurate to within a gram. I used to have one of those back in the early 70s). If you get it wrong it may NEVER harden and you have to scrape all of the "bad" epoxy off, clean up with acetone, wait for your head to clear, and go at it again.


Concatenating the 2 pieces of wood: The process for bonding 2 of the pieces together involves several steps

• sand the butt ends,


• lay them close together,


• slather with epoxy


• place a piece of fiberglass tape over the joint


• slater some more (you actualy want to control the amount applied)


• cover with mylar (epoxy doesn't adhere to mylar)


• poke at the mylar repeatedly to drive any bubbles out


• place a scrap of wood over the mylar (make sure it is smaller than the mylar or it will be a part of the kayak forever)


• place a brick on the scrap of wood to weigh it down


• comb out any excess epoxy with the paint brush

Repeat this 24 times and you will have a dozen strips of wood ready to be stitched together.

A note about bricks: The manual from the manufacturer is extremely well written. It covers all of the details clearly and unambiguously without a lot of extraneous verbiage. It recommends bricks to apply pressure because they are the right size and weight. When I built my deck 6 years ago, I salvaged thousands of bricks from the patio which the deck replaced. These bricks were once paving a street in Lansdale, but now they are mine and buried in the 3 plus feet of snow we have received lately. I had failed to anticipate the need for the bricks, consequently, when I was ready to get going with the first steps of assembly, I trudged out into the snow to retrieve a few of them. (Pointer- make sure that you wash any dirt off the bricks or you will have extra sanding to do in the morning.) I have got to get better at staying in the moment.

Day one - putting the pieces together

Stardate Feb 25, 2010 - This past summer, I expressed interest in building a kayak to a friend of mine (I will refer to him as Tim). It was kind of a passing thought. When I got home, Tim had emailed me links to a few companies who offer kits. I wasn't really that serious when I made the comment until I looked at some of the photos. Eventually, one of the photos from the site made it to my wallpaper, as a self-inflicted tease to coax me into the decision. I told many friends that I was going to build a kayak, further commiting me to this course.

Last week, before flying out to a vessel which couldn't be further from a kayak, a few packages arrived. One was 8 feet long, contained about 32 pieces of wood and a collection of other items that would become part of a kayak in time. It also containd a manual on everything you wanted to know about epoxy, resins, hardeners and the like. Another manual outlined in detail, all of the steps needed to construct the craft. How fortunate - reading material for the flight.

I realized that I had some work to do and that I was indeed building a kayak. If it goes through the water without listing or leaking, I will be elated.

Today, after spending weeks reviewing information about epoxy, kayak assembly, and also gathering the courage to start, I managed to join 6 pieces from the port side of the stern to 6 pieces from the port side of the bow. Over the next few days, the steps needed to do this will be repeated 3 more times - first on the back side of the port pieces assembled today, then repeat on the starboard side.

The method of assembly is known as stitch and glue. These 12 pieces of the hull will be temporarily "stitched" together using baling wire, glued and then strengtherned with fiberglass and epoxy.

Oh - this is being assembled in my basement...I think I can get it out once constructed. Tom, my canoeing buddy, thinks so. Should I be concerned that he spent a few minutes evaluating the removal of one of my basement windows?