Catching us up

 The deadwood for the keel is two large pieces of Angelique (35 feet X 12" X 8") with laminated pieces of douglas fir creating the upper pieces of the keel from the shaft log forward.

The first picture is a couple of holes ready to receive the 3/4" galvanized keel bolts.  Some of these holes were quite deep 6' or more requiring some custom made drill bits and a really big drill.  The other challenge with these deep holes on either side of the shaft log (the hole through the keel that the propeller shaft runs through) is that you have to be nut on!  You do not want to drill into the shaft
log and you don't want to drill through the outside of the keel- or what is called a "drill out".  I had one.  You fill it with a  wooden dowel and try again.  Its very hard work and very stressful.

The next sequence of pictures shows the set up I used with scaffolding and chain falls to flip the keel on its side for various things like bolting flat bar onto the bottom for a grounding shoe.

 This is also the set up that I mentioned as a near death experience in my "safety" post.

Busy, Busy, Busy, Back to Work

This boat building thing takes a lot of commitment and can honestly suck up a big part of your life.  Part of the problem with my start to this ambitious project was 1) having a life  2) having a well stocked sail boat in the water.

Honestly, looking at the pile of wood that was the sum total of my meager progress several years down the road, I realized there had to be some changes if the finished Pile of Wood was going to materialize.  The kids were headed off to college, it was time to sell the sail boat and put down the rum drink and get a laser like focus.

This is the summer.  Damn it.  Pile of Wood WILL be recognizable as a boat looking kind of thing by Thanks Giving or else.  Even going all in (or out) this summer, there are still weddings, family events, and stuff that goes with being a human being.  Ten days in June just disappeared in CA.  But really.  I mean it. BACK TO WORK.

Blue sky or building shed?

So, building a good sized boat presents certain logistical and locational challenges.  Stating the obvious, you need a place to build.  That place needs sufficient trailer access such that when you are done you can move it as opposed to the dismal alternative.  It should be right where you live because if you have the added disincentive of having to schlep yourself, tools and supplies to some remote location, this thing ain't ever going to happen.  And you know you will need something essential that you didn't bring and that will ultimately drive you to frequent the nearest tavern rather than working on the boat.

Most builders will tell you have to build in some kind of work shed.  Honestly, there are lots of advantages to that.  Others have built under the blue sky and lived with the compromises that brings.  The first photo is my friend Joe's boat building shed- he is building the 44' version of the D-Duck (mine is the 48').  The second photo is my location- the "blue sky" option.  I will discuss some of the pros and cons of each in a subsequent post, but in the end I said no to the shed as it would have had to be so big (55'X 24' X  20' high) I couldn't buy into it.   Given the meteorology of my field, I was pretty sure that I would have constructed the state's largest box kite if I had gone with the shed.  This was the first decision of millions that follow the golden rule of boat building- everything, EVERY THING, is a compromise.

Blood, Sweat and Avoiding the Big One

These things don't come together without a little blood (yeah), sweat and tears.  Every day you pick up the saw, the drill or even the pencil is an opportunity to screw up.  Job one is definitely about keeping all your body parts and most of the stuff that flows through them where it belongs.  I clearly recall tipping the keel over on its side using a chain fall and scaffolding to work on it.  As I delicately tipped everything just past the balance point, there was this "oh shit" moment when everything took on a life of its own- I had neglected to put the pads on the bottom of the scaffolding legs and the weight of the keel tipping over now drove the scaffolding legs into the ground like tent stakes tipping the whole set up at a precarious angle with me sitting underneath crossing all my fingers and toes that I might somehow survive to add more things to the keel.  So, I'm still here but it was definitely a wake up call.   Rule 1, don't make mistakes that you can't survive!

Footnote- So after  posting this I conked myself in the head with a crow bar!  What can I say?