Welcome to the Coast

 

Hello!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it…something like two years and a month….

Things have changed, haven’t they? We have all been through some stuff…

I have tried, on more than one occasion to get a post up, but they all just seemed so…depressing.

But, time passes and hopefully we have learned a few things to better prepare us... 

Prepare us for things like, oh, I don’t know…making a new sail…??? 

2019 saw our old sailboat die a sudden death by broken mast, aided by 40 years of poor upkeep compounded by rotting would and some really good wind. We were rail in the water when we heard the CRACK. Initially assuming it was all our stuff flying to the leeward side.  Instead, that horrible sound turned out to be one of the mast stays, which had pulled free of the interior anchor thus leaving the mast partially unsupported. I dropped the mainsail as Rob started the engine and we cautiously motored back to dock at 5mph. All the time discussing how we were going to fix the problem. Once docked, it become clear that the best way to fix the problem, short of sinking the boat in a hidden cove, was to somehow donate the boat.

 

this is not a good thing

 As luck would have it, the marina Cool Change lived at was run by a sailboat lover and they worked out a deal to just take the boat, and it’s brand new outboard, off our hands.

We decided then that our little 15ft wooden boat would do from here on out.

We decided that we would not buy another boat.

So, two years later, we bought a BIGGER boat….

Meet St. Frank, a 27ft, 35ish year old Catalina tall-rig. (this last descriptor becomes way more important than I thought it would…)

 

St Frank – formerly/currently/actually – named St Frances by her previous owner, will be eventually undergoing a name change. (Can a boat be gender fluid?) Not that we have anything against St. Frances – I have known two very lovely women named Fran. But St Frances is just not a name that fits us. Once we land on a name fitting to all three of us – Rob, me and the boat – there will be a renaming ceremony. I can’t risk angering Neptune any more than I already have.

St Frank has it all, her previous owner outfitting the cozy sloop with a microwave, a portable electric refrigerator, a sound system and an AIR CONDITIONER!! We have seat cushions, kitchenware, movable cupholders and no jib. (The jib is the smaller, front sail on a sloop. It helps balance the larger main sail and just makes the whole boat so pretty.)

an actual galley

AND no more leaking port-a-potty!

What the boat does have is a storm sail, which is a much smaller front sail for inclement weather and a Genoa.

the large sail at the bow is the Genoa, note how much small the actual main sail is

 A Genoa is an ENOURMOUS front sail which grabs every ounce of wind there is allowing for some fast racing, if you are so inclined, and a lot of heeling. (Where the side of the boat leans into the water, which is fun, but the exact opposite of relaxing which is always my goal when on a boat.)

Which brings me to the theme of the next few posts (yes, there will be more!)

Because sails are expensive and we have already spent our Not Buying Another Boat budget on the above said boat, AND because I have made two other sails, it was decided that we would order one more sail kit from Sailrite.

The two previous sails were also Sailrite kits – precut sail pieces, hardware and some really helpful directions and diagrams. These sails were for our wooden boat. Because if Rob could make the entire boat of wood, just think how cool it would be if I made the sails…

Anyway, it was definitely a learning curve. But it has been 15 years since I made those sails and apparently 15 years is exactly how long it takes for me to forget what a semi-complicated and awkward process sail making is on a portable home sewing machine.

Sails these days are made of dacron – what can only be described as plastic paper fabric. It is stiff when new but over time softens to an almost leather feel. And it makes a cool popping sound as the needle pierces it.

The mast for this new/old boat is 30ish feet tall, which calls for a rather big sail. However, all I heard when discussing this project was ‘jib’ and ‘it’s a smaller sail than the main’.

I have no concept of size, or distance. All I knew was the last jib I made was not enormous.  

I am pretty sure my judgement was impaired by a tasty rum drink.

Turns out the small sail for a 27ft boat is quite a bit larger than the big sail for a 15ft boat.

Huh.

The sail comes precut in sections. The process involves sewing sections together and then sewing these sections to the other sections until you have an entire sail. The idea is to keep the sections a manageable size. Which in theory makes sense, if you have a football field size work room with a table of the same dimensions.

hardware with candles...

why a pic of an enormous bottle of wine?
 because this is what I will be drinking once this project is finished

I have two folding banquet tables, in a fully furnished basement family room that also currently houses a banana tree waiting for above 40 degree weather outside.

This is what that set-up looks like:

see all that white stuff on the floor? those are the PIECES of the sail

At this posting, the sail is about a third of the way finished.

Upcoming posts will discuss the finer points of securing, rolling and wrangling dacron, repetitive bobbin winding and needle threading and dealing with the panic of thinking you have sewn everything backwards……

Until next time...

this.
this is what makes all the broken needles worthwhile

Bottom Job!

There are several questions to ask yourself before buying a forty year old sailboat.

Is the Keel intact?

Is the hull structurally sound?

Are you prepared to spend one beautiful spring day sanding until you turn blue?

Have you lost your mind?

For good or bad, our answers to the above questions were all 'yes'.

Except for the sanding part.

That information was withheld.

The hull, or the underwater portion, of our fixerupper is fiberglass – layers and layers of it.

The Keel, the big fin underneath, is lead.

Both are covered with marine grade paint to protect them.

Or in our case, were covered.

Over time and exposure, that paint peels and no longer protects sufficiently.

Just like a house.

Except you can't put aluminum siding on a boat.

At least I don't think you can...

Anyway,

The normal person would pay to have the boatyard powerwash and repaint. Or, as the Ozark Yacht Club calls it, a Bottom Job.

But, from those original questions, we have established that we are, in fact, not normal.

Plus, we spent the 2018 boat budget on a new propane outboard and a port-a-potty.

Which is why I found myself, on a lovely April afternoon, sanding the bottom of the boat, which is up on jack-stands on a parking lot right off the Bagnell Dam Strip. There is no electricity. There is no running water.

Just a whole lot of gravel and sun.

Sure, I am in the shade...

This is after 10 minutes. Ten. Minutes.

Truthfully, the sanding wasn't terrible. It took a couple hours but we got the worse of the peeling paint off. Sure we inhaled a moderate amount of fiberglass and lead dust. But you know, live and learn.

The sanding was followed by a vigorous brushing with a stiff, long handled broom and then an alcohol wipe down.

Rob chose the alcohol wipe as

1. there was no water to rinse the excess dust off
2. alcohol dries very rapidly.

Oh, and

                       3. inhaling all those alcohol fumes just added to the amazing quality of the                                    day....

Once we regained consciousness, the boat was taped off and Rob rolled while I edged and painted the smaller areas around the jack-stands where the roller wouldn't reach. (Sorry about the paint on those straps, guys.)

Blue tape. Blue Boat. Blue paint...

Fancy Hull Paint. Only used about half the can!

Goes on smooth...

Clean up was a little dicey.

It was a toss up between being 'green' and trying to wash all the rollers and paint containers in the bathroom at the yacht club or remaining members of the yacht club.

At the end of the day, everything went in the trash.

Looks brand new! And to think, this will be underwater the next time we see her.

We brushed off as much blue dust and paint as we could before heading down the hill to clean up a little.

With the lake three hours from home, and our 'lake house' on jack-stands, we opted to stay the night at the Quality Inn.

It says a lot about the desk clerk that she never mentioned my interesting blue tan or the homeless quality of my clothes.

Sunday was spent taking Blue Skies, our wooden sloop, out on the big lake. She was neglected all last year in favor of the fixer-upper.

We set her up in the parking lot, with one good reef in the main as it was fairly windy, even in our cove.

In the land of power boats and fiberglass, this is a sight for sore eyes.

And if anyone doubts that a boat has a soul, they should have been holding the bowline as she hit the water.

The minute Rob pulled the trailer away, she strained at those lines, just begging to sail.

It was an amazing feeling, holding her back, sails still down and no tide or current.

You get a much neater reef when it's done on the parking lot.

We had a fantastic afternoon, even with one reef. We did put the jib up after a bit and even ventured out into the main arm near the dam, where the wind really picked up and Blue Skies soared!

Wing on Wing. Don't get to do this very often.

The weekend wrapped up with that three hour drive home.

We were slightly sunburned, pretty stiff and sore and not a little exhausted.

But it was so worth it.

Cool Change was ready for an exciting new year of sailing.

Blue Skies had her water fix for a bit.

And we learned a little more about sailboat ownership:

1. I look good with blue highlights in my hair.
2. Alcohol plus paint dust = permenant blue paint on your hands.
3. Eagles get a kick out of watching people attempting to get their photograph and instead coming about in a complete circle. Twice.

Nest and Eagle

Fuzzy as it's from my phone. We have seen this guy out and about early in the morning.
Can't believe he lives so nearby!

Next time the boat hull needs painting we will opt for the professional Bottom Job.

But only after they buy us dinner first.

*As it so happens, this is a possibility. I just got an email from the Ozark Yacht Club offering Dine and Detail – you order up your boat work and your dinner from the Lakeside Cafe. You have a lovely waterfront meal and the boatyard does the work!

https://ozarkyachtclub.com/lakeside-cafe

You had me at Torpedo Tacos...

But What About the Granite Countertop...G is for Galley

I love to cook.

I have been told I am pretty good at it.

Of course, this is on land.

On a stove that doesn't move...

You see, in a sailboat – and in most boats with kitchens, the stove is 'gimballed' which means it will sway with the boat in order to stay level. This would be handy when cooking say, a giant pot of water in which you plan to cook all those spiny lobsters you caught 10 minutes ago.

Our sailboat does not have a stove.

It does have an area which I have designated the kitchen.

Excuse me.

The galley.

(Because as we have established, sailing involves having a DIFFERENT word for every single common thing we already know the name of - see Monday's H post for more fun with sailing words.)

Apparently the word 'galley' is a corruption of the word 'gallery' - a stone or brick structure on which sailors cooked their food.

I believe that is a BBQ. 

Anyway...

This would be my 'galley'.

Before I cleaned it up:

And after:

I know, it doesn't look too different. I did add a nice tote with some mugs, utensils, a french press, and an electric teapot. My plan is to eventually add a two burner camp stove, a nice cutting board, and some melamine plates. You know, just the right stuff to fix popcorn or a nice cheese plate.

Naturally, as soon as I had a galley, I researched multiple books about cooking on board boats and received The Boat Galley Cookbook by Carolyn Shearlock and Jan Irons.

It is a fantastic resource for someone with an actual galley with topics ranging from setting up the galley, best choices for pots and pans, how to shop and store food and ideas for actual meals.

Currently we can dine on instant oatmeal.

This past Christmas Rob got me the book Mediterranean Summer by David Shalleck.

It is an amazing true story of a chef who decides to spend several summers cooking on an exclusive yacht on the Mediterranean coast. The book is filled with the trials of meal plans, shopping, storing fresh produce, fish and meat for a very exacting clientele. It also includes descriptions of tempting meals and thankfully, the recipes for many of the dishes.

In my head, this summer, I shall be recreating Spaghettini with San Marzano Red Clam Sauce, Grilled Swordfish with Naked Caponata and Fresh Fruit Macedonia with Mock Limoncello Syrup.

In reality I hope to do a nice plate of tapas with some grilled bruschetta.

And maybe some fresh fruit for the instant oatmeal.

What my galley is lacking, our actual dining table fills the void.

Originally, the table was fixed to the mast and folded down out of the way. It was also very water damaged.

Rob was able to make a new design which now acts as both a table, 

and a bed frame: 

I am in the process of devising a cushion for sleeping. We have used it with unrolled sleeping bags and a very large comforter and slept quite well.

Which is great.

It's nice to be well rested for that instant oatmeal breakfast.

This has been part of the A to Z challenge. Click here to read more...a-to-zchallenge.com

A-Ahoy

B-Bells

C-Catamaran

D-Dramamine

E-Escape

F-Flags

An Announcement and some Work

April Showers may bring May Flowers, but here on the Coast of Illinois, April brings the A to Z Challenge. I happened on this writing challenge a little late last year through a fellow blogger: Mary at Jingle Jangle Jungle

I am ready for 2017!

I even have a theme:

 Coast of Illinois's Rules for the Beach...well, not so much rules, as suggestions

As per usual, while I may have a theme, I have not pre-written anything but an idea list. Consequently, every post will be done on the fly, hopefully a day in advance, but one of the 'rules' has to do with just going with it so...updates, while daily, may appear at a variety of times.

Stay tuned!

(And stop laughing,  I know it has been a month since my last update. That's the whole evil point of this challenge!)

Now, back to my regularly unscheduled post...

I really enjoy Facebook's feature 'On This Day'. It allows you to look back on years worth of posts for each particular day. This past month's posts have been dominated by schizophrenic weather reports – snow, rain, snow, hot, snow – interspersed with Mardi Gras pictures and sailing.

Sailing.

It seems, in years past, the passing weekend has been our first sail of the new year.

But not this year.

Never mind that we now commandeer a fleet of boats.

We have yet to take even one of them out.

We have, however, been hard at work on the fixer upper.

Rob and I took a mad dash 3 hour drive to Ozark Yacht Club where we spent the day replacing the newly freshened cushions and restringing the halyards to the main and jib.

(It still cracks me up that I know what those terms mean...and for those that are slightly confused - the 'halyards' are the ropes that raise, lower and help control the big and little sails.)

Yes. this is a Sailboat Sewing Kit. My 4-H leaders would be proud.

end to end splice of old and new rope. only one serious needle stick

That's me. Splicing.

 

Freshly freshened cushions. Please ignore the floor dirt. That's the next project.

The beautifully refinished tiller.

Possibly my favorite picture. Rob hoisting the new lines. Nothing broke. Which was good as it all depended on my splicing...

After all this hard work, we treated ourselves to an al fresco pizza, live music and a sunset at Shawnee Bluff Winery.

I mean, seriously. Key West has nothing on this sunset. Except maybe warmer temps. And Palm trees.

And a pontoon breakfast at the Lakeside Cafe at OYC. 

Bacon, wrapped in a pillow of hash browns supporting two over easy eggs. Sourdough toast, house made jam and coffee. Fruit? Who needs fruit?

Stay tuned for more boat updates and A to Z craziness!

So now I guess we have a Fleet...

My sanity has always been a tiny bit on the questionable side...

It took a turn for the lunatic in 2008.

I didn't realize it at the time.

Of course, that's what they all say.

What happened in 2008 you ask?

Well, my husband decided it would be fun to build a small sailboat from a kit.

Never mind that we neither one know how to sail. Or that we live in the middle of the country where there is very little sailing, compared to, oh say Maine or the Caribbean. 

Nothing But a Breeze was built in 2008 and took it first trip to the Gulf of Mexico in the back of a rental truck in 2011 where we were the entertainment for everyone in Destin harbor.

And a sea turtle.

It was a short keel-haul to phase two: 

A 15 foot sloop built from plans. Blue Skies took a little bit longer to build, beginning in 2009 and launching in June of 2013. Later that year she got her first taste of salt water, again in the Gulf at Destin where we entertained everyone in Choctawatchee Bay.

And some dolphins.

And a guy in a HUGE yacht who thought it was funny to cruise really really close to us, causing us to surf down his wake...

Fast forward to 2016.

We have been sailing for 8 years now. We both have US Sailing 101 certifications. Rob has ASA Sailing 103-104. We have rented and sailed 24ft to 39ft mono-hull boats on both fresh and salt water.

And in December of 2016 we kicked off the holiday season by purchasing this:

Cool Change. Thankfully an acceptable name. It is a whole big deal, not to mention bad luck, to change it. And that isn't cool...

Cool Change.

A C&C24.

A 24 foot mono-hull sailboat with a v-berth built in 1976.

A fixer-upper.

We pondered the purchase of this boat for nearly a year -http://www.coastofillinois.com/2016/06/middle-age-couple-checks-out-fixer-upper.html, first taking a glancing look at it in the fall of 2015 then again in the Spring of 2016. I was against the purchase while Rob was for it. Then I would be pro-boat and he would be against.

We both knew that owning a boat, docked 3 hours away, would mean many weekends away from home working on projects. But it could also mean owning a boat 3 hours away from the hub-bub that is staying home on a weekend.

It was on the drive back up US 1 from Key West to Miami last November, coming home from a vacation where we sailed several days with friends on our own 'personal' sailboat that we both, nearly simultaneously said – 'remember that old sailboat...'

And after much negotiating and a fortuitous price drop we became the proud owners of a floating project.

I am still not sure if the seller was more excited that he had unloaded the boat or amused that we actually bought it.

We spent the first few hours of ownership taking turns climbing in and out of the hold, unloading everything that would fit in the back of our car for the trip home. The plan being to spend the cold winter months beginning the rehab project.

Things have moved along quite nicely. 

We brought back the table, companionway doors and tiller. 

The fold up table is going to get a re-design. Hopefully with a little storage and a more efficient, modern style.

The companionway door. In serious need of refinishing rebuilding. Unfortunately, the bottom is rotted away. Rob has cut a new door of some poplar and is currently debating which color stain to use in order to match the remaining good wood on the boat. His preference would have been oak, but there was none to be found when he was at the wood shop and he is itching to get things moving.

Tiller, sanded down with one coat of varnish. We weren't sure what sanding would uncover - the wood was sadly neglected and a very weathered grey.

A SCREEN DOOR!! We jokingly commented what a good addition a screen door would be. And then we found one on the boat!

My only contribution so far has been to help unfold and refold the sails and convince Rob to replace ALL the slugs on the two main sails. The boat, for reasons unknown to us, came with FIVE sails - two main, one jib and two genoas. Genoas being extra huge jibs, for really catching a lot of wind, especially should you wish to race...

Here is what FIVE sails in a family room look like: 

Sails

Sails, cushions and a sunshade in need of dying.

Sails, sail bags and cushions.

 My other contribution has been to over-dye the cushion fabric. Originally we thought about completely re-doing the upholstery but on closer inspection the fabric, while faded, was in pretty good shape. The cushions are firm and not at all musty. This is a huge savings this year. Upholstery fabric is a little pricey and cushion foam is crazy expensive. Eventually I have plans for a Pintrest worthy fabric re-do. But for now we will be happy with Navy blue.

The original v-berth fabric. Had to tell in the pic but it was pretty faded, especially after washing.

To our surprise, this is the original fabric, found under the navy material. Quite stained, but the fact that is was not smelly and still pretty much in one piece does speak to how well the boat had been maintained in its day.

after washing. before four bottles of Rit navy blue dye.

The v-berth cushion after dyeing and re-upholstering. Sorry the pic is upside down. The computer is fighting me.

As we get closer to Spring, we are both getting more excited to get down and actually spend some time inside and out. Rob has a first hand, splinter to splinter knowledge of the two boats he has built. This one remains something of a mystery. The owners manual, while extensive, is no match for hands on living. I have only been inside twice, the second time while the boat was on stilts - not very conducive to planning. My dream is to have a beautiful, functional albiet tiny living space where we can retreat on weekends.

Next big project is restringing the sheets to the mainsail. 

And repainting the hull prior to putting her in the lake. 

Stay tuned for more This Old Boat!!