|Valiente's battered battery banks with Honda genset boosting. Yes, it's dirty there. It's pointless to clean up until I'm back at my dock, where there's water and a tap.|
|The man who taught me celestial navigation, Nick DeMunnik, has his boat on the hard beside Alchemy. Seeing him yesterday made me think I need to refresh my ability to reduce sights. The top sextant is mine; the nice Freiberger is Mrs. Alchemy's.|
When I launch Alchemy is known (May 2); when Valiente goes in is anyone's guess, as the employees of the cheapest yard in the city where I keep her have yet to manifest from their southern soujourns. There's just two men who haul and launch and cradle a few hundred boats in a jammed yard on the east side of Toronto Harbour, and they work constantly on both pleasure and commercial vessels throughout the warm months, only to head south from about November 15th to ...well, now, supposedly. I could launch Valiente with six hours' notice as my dock for her is already prepped. Said six hours would require about half a hour for an engine check and test-fire, more charging time until I reach the blessed green light status on the Guest charger, and various cosmetic work insofar as I can clean and polish the hull when there is only a few centimetres between the parked hulls.
|The blessed green light on Alchemy's soon to be repurposed (to the forepeak) battery charger.|
Yesterday, the airport reached 17C, which means about 13-14C on the waterfront, but this was enough to do remedial work on the hull to refresh some spots requiring "rust-locking", galvanizing paint and two-part epoxy barrier coat. My wife, who is of modest dimensions, not to mention younger, tends to do this hull work, whilst I work on the topsides and deck.
|Not to mention a provisional prop cleaning and service.|
It was also a time to sort out the anchor well with the miracle of power washing and to put on a base coat of Rustoleum galvanizing paint.
|Second coat will be brushed on to obliterate the drips. The bitter end eye can be seen to the right. The Dri-Dek, also power-washed, goes around this.|
|The VHF hailing and P.A./fog signal horn doesn't look wildly out of place, I think.|
|Not as wrinkled as this, the Dacron main is actually in pretty good shape.|
|Y'arr, 'tis the bosun's locker, of sorts. Things stowed in here have saved more than one cruise.|
More make, mend and paint/sand/varnish today. It took some digging, but I located the pieces used in the tabernacle to both secure the mast to it and to enable it to be lowered for locks, or service or to avoid the bosun's chair:
|Bolt, cap, shiny heavy tube part et al.|
|Appropriately sturdy, I think. Ignore the temporarily deployed boat hook.|
|I guessed the colour from a chip in a Dulux store. It's close enough for me, and as it will be covered in Dri-Dek and massive amounts of new G70 3/8" chain.|
|Ar, 'tis a venerable rudder stick, it be.|
UPDATE, 15.04.16: The Metalclad paint was still a little tacky, and I put on a second coat of varnish on the tiller, so I switched focus today and decided to do some measuring twice.
|For reasons of physics, I wanted to make sure the helm seat could take the helmsperson's mass even if Alchemy was subject to an unexpected wave.|
|This is brutal enough to spin me in place if I am insufficiently braced. It's one of my favourites, and I got it on sale.|
Six 3/16" pilot holes later, followed by 3/8" pilot house and the same for the variety of 1/4" aluminum backing plates I trust will keep the base firmly attached to the steel pilothouse deck and I was bolted down. When I recover said deck, I will probably trace around this base rather than remove it again.
|Not all vessels come with a Deck Dalek.|
|Ignore the surrounding builders' tip.|
|In the raised, closer to the helm "distaff" configuration.|
|Well, well: Cleaner, brighter and plausibly organized. Even my clown shoes fit in there.|