Boatbuilding

The boat has no seat. The paddler sits on the bottom of the boat, or a cushion of some sort. I might do something about that later. There is, however, a back rest. One needs something to brace against paddling effort.

The backrest is pretty simple, an 8-sided, tapered bar with a couple of curved pads. All parts are white ash. The pads were curved by boiling for a few minutes and then clamping over nicely curved surfaces, which just happened to be chair backs. The backrest rotates to provide a comfortable fit.

No mishaps with this component, except for losing one of the mounting screws. Time to listen to Beethoven’s Rage Over a Lost Screw.

They have several different names. This boat’s designer called then guards. Others call them gunwales, or sometimes rails.

They weren’t hard to do. Many people like half rounds. The designer suggested half 8-sided because he has no router. Neither do I, and I like the looks of the half-8-sided.

These are made of Sitka spruce, absolutely delightful to shape. However, part of getting the right shape is getting the shape right. I’m fairly adept at planing something that is parallel to the bench top.

I’m not nearly as adept planing a 45 degree surface. After a bit of fumbling, I put a good 45 degree surface on a piece of poplar. It was then cut into about ten small chunks and glued with rubber cement to the qunwale. That positioned the workpiece for easier planing.  Pop off the props and refit for the opposite surface. Easy.

Attachment is with ring nails. Bedding is Dolfinite, a tan colored material with a consistency a bit stiffer than peanut butter. The only mishap was dropping one of the guards immediately after buttering it with Dolfinite. Of course, it hit the floor butter side down. Dolfinite cleans up rather easily with mineral spirits.

These were too easy. So, I had to make them harder.

The false stems are white ash, hard enough to be the boat’s shock absorbers. They are only about an inch thick, in either dimension, but are curved in almost all directions. Rough patterns made of thin plywood held up against the ends of the boat (one at each end) provided the initial cutting lines.

I thought they would be difficult to fit but was very pleasantly surprised. The trick is chalk. Coat the fixed surface with a heavy layer of chalk. Place the false stem piece against the chalked surface and wiggle back and forth. The transferred chalk marks the high spots. There might be only a few at the start. Remove them. Repeat until the fit is so good that the whole piece is covered with chalk. It goes a lot faster than I expected.

Beveling comes after fitting. So, how do we hold the clumsy pieces? Some scrap stock screwed to the inside of the curve offers a lot of surface for the leg vice to hold. Beveling is also pretty quick work with a sharp spokeshave (Stanley #51, circa 1920) and a cabinet rasp.

So far, so easy.  Too easy. Can’t have that. Let’s make it a bit more difficult.

Harry Bryan called these boats “Fiddleheads” for some reason I don’t know. Why stick with the usual ogee curve found atop many stems? How about decorating the tops of the false stems with fiddleheads? Hmmm. Never carved one of those. Actually, I’ve never carved much of anything. Off to the world wide library to find some examples. …

Some basic carving chisels and some practice time on a scrap of ash led to the following conclusion. Don’t let anyone tell you that ash is good carving wood. The alternations of tight grain and loose grain may be great for shock absorption, but definitely not for carving. Yet, ash is what we want on the ends of the boat and the carvings will be what they are. Despite the less than optimal wood, I’m pleased with the results (which still need some final sanding). … Just don’t invite Stradivari to inspect.

Attachment is with four #8 x 1 and 1/4 inch screws for each end and the usual 5200 marine adhesive. The screws are deeply sunk with bungs to cover them.