Fitting the Transom

The transom board will be fastened to the stern post and will set into the keel below the stern knee. This will let the bottom planks flow effortlessly from the keel and rabbet line into the transom where they will fasten at the end. In order for the transom to fit into the keel, a notch must be cut to allow the transom a void to fill.

A square was set on the sternpost and was slid one inch past the top of the keel. The outline was traced as this would give me the profile of the transom board. I did not cut any bevels into the transom board as keeping its sides set to ninety degrees make assembly faster.

Using a miter saw, I carefully cut the notch into the keel, making sure that the saw was cutting parallel to the keel and not beyond the cut lines drawn on either side of the keel. The excess length of the keel was cut off using a regular hand saw and the transom board was dry fitted. The inside corner of the cut was refined using a series of files, converting the cut surface from a rough cut down to a fine and smooth surface that will closely accept the transom board. 

The faying surface was bathed with bedding compound and the transom was mated to the keel in a water-tight fashion. The added surface area offered by the rabbet will help ensure that unwanted water intrusion is avoided.

Towing Windpuff

In preparation for going cruising, we needed to get Windpuff out of the water and onto the hard. Windpuff lives near us in the marina, so we check on him all the time to make sure that none of the scuppers are covered with leaves that would cause rain to back up and make a mess. Since we are going cruising, we won't be around to check on him as often as we currently do, so we decided to pull Windpuff out and shrink wrap him. 

Windpuff will remain on land while we are away, safe and protected from the elements until we return.

Underlaying Trim

The first layer of trim is the 3 inch boards that flank the lapstrake siding. These boards will bring the cosmetic layer flush to the top of the siding, allowing the 5 inch boards to cover the siding without any obstructions.

The 3 inch boards are simply fitted as close as possible to the siding's edge with little regard for perfection. The gaps will be filled with caulk and this mess will be covered by the 5 inch trim board. The 3 inch boards simply bring the 5 inch  board up to the level of the siding so that there is no interference and the trim boards can go on effortlessly and cleanly.

The trim that lines the roof is very important because it tacks the tar paper in place wrapping over the edge of the roof. The shingles will cover this area and provide extra water protection.

Battens were added on the roof to hold the tar paper in place and avoid any tears. If the tar paper were left free over the roof, it could rip off in strong winds and negate any of the benefits of tacking the tar paper under the trim.

Cleaning up the Forefoot

Now that the bedding compound has fully cured, it is time to clean up the forefoot and make it look like the front of a boat and not a pile of scrap wood scarfed together.

The excess bedding compound was easily peeled off by hand, leaving a clean line that is (hopefully) water tight. The next thing to do is to cut the finger joints off the front of the keel. The finger joints were going to support the stem in a plumb position, but this plan was changed when the stem was not properly aligned with the frames. Setting the stem raked was the only option to salvage the stem, otherwise I would have needed to make a new stem that would fit plumb bow. 

The stem line was continued onto the keel, where it was then cutoff with a handsaw. This rough cut was simply to tone down the front of the dinghy and is by no means the final shape of the forefoot.

Should the stem and keel junction leak, I have two choices: add lots of caulk and pray or cut and fit in a gripe.

When viewed from the front, the bookmatched grain is very apparent. This grain pattern will offer greater holding power to the planking screws when the rabbet is finally cut in and the garboard fitted. Until then, the forefoot will continue to be an overly bulky and clunky block of oversized wood.

Peoples Reactions to our Planned Trip

When people find out that we are planning to sail to the Caribbean, we are faced with some repeat questions. These questions are different from the common questions we are asked when people learn that we liveaboard. Liveaboard questions are merely routine for us as we have been doing it for years and consider all the unknowns they could as as ordinary parts of everyday life.

Liveaboard questions tend to be:

How do you get to your car?
What do you do when it rains?
Are you cold during the winter?
What if there is flooding, are you worried about your boat sinking?

These questions are all too common for us and we have carefully prepared answers for them:

Walk down the pier to the car.
Go inside and keep dry.
No, we turn on the heat.
We float. (this one is one of my personal favorites)

Our planned trip is just that, a plan. We have not done it before, so we don't have definitive answers based on years of experience. Instead, we have thoughts formed from reading books and talking with other sailors. There are a lot of unknowns involved with this trip and we don't have all the answers. 

I have taken to playing the role of the happy go lucky fool when I get asked the same questions, because it makes the conversation proceed quicker and easier. They either think I am kidding or that I am going to die and there is no helping the helpless, so they change the subject. I would rather get on to another subject as I grow tired of the same doubtful questions. 

Aren't you scared about a storm out in the ocean?
What if a hurricane comes?
What if a sea monster eats your boat?
What if you get sick?
What if you get lost?
Aren't you afraid of pirates?

Storms are a concern, which is why we have practiced heaving-to. We also carry a parachute anchor to set in addition to heaving-to to help steady the ship as we ride out the storm in the protection of the slick. We haven't tested this out on the high seas, but we have had some horrible squalls in the Chesapeake Bay and other storms close to the Atlantic Coast. We know how to manage storms, and we know how to stay safe, but we have always been close to land. We do have a slight uneasy feeling in our stomach when we think about setting off to distant lands and getting hit by a storm in the night hundreds of miles from shore where no one can assist us should something catastrophic happen.

Hurricanes are a concern, they are incredibly powerful and their paths can change in an instant. When we are far offshore, we won't have the best of weather updates and a hurricane could theoretically slip through our weather forecast electronics. The reason I am not as concerned is hurricanes send a large swell out into the ocean radiating away from its center. By noticing this swell, we can begin to monitor the weather and figure out where the center of the storm is and what its route is. With this knowledge, we can plot a course away from the storm and into safer water. Worst case scenario, heave-to with the parachute anchor and ride out the hurricane. By choosing our cruising course carefully, we hope to avoid hurricanes and negate the issue all together.

"Sea monsters" always makes me chuckle. Whales on the other hand are not as funny. Running into a sleeping whale is an actual concern. The collision would not cause that much damage to our full keel sailboat, but it could piss off the whale that just got struck by 17 tons of boat! Angered whales can retaliate and sink a sailboat if they are in the mood and there is little you can do to stop them. In most cases, the whale will simply swim off and leave you be; with both parties a little shaken up from the whole ordeal.

Sickness at sea is a concern. We can get injured and there is no hospital to run to. If we are a week from shore, that means we are a week from any medical care. I am a dentist (and not a physician) so I can do minor procedures such as debride a wound or suture a laceration, but I can't take out an appendix! Being a dentist does make me well versed in dealing with infections and surgical procedures, but working on a moving vessel with bad lighting doesn't make me a skilled surgeon. Our first line of defense against sickness is to avoid injury in the first place. By playing it safe, we stay healthy and well. Keeping up on our sleep and eating well will keep us well nourished and strong, warding off the illnesses that come from malnutrition and stress.

Getting lost is a very real problem at sea where there is no landmarks in sight. We have paper charts, we have electronic charts, we have three GPS units, we have a compass, and we have a sextant! In the worst case scenario where the sextant falls overboard, all the GPS units die, the compass breaks, and we loose all our charts; we still have one trick up our sleeve: the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. If we lost everything and had no clue where we were, we could simply sail west to return to the Americas. This may sound over simplified, but if we are lost in the Atlantic, the Americas are to the West and Europe/Africa is to the East. Should I find myself in total confusion, I would personally rather make landfall on my home continent. As far fetched as this scenario may sound, people actually ask me what I would do if everything failed. The truth is, we take care of the sextant and the compass is mounted to the binnacle. Using these two instruments, we can plot our position and find our way through the ocean. Knowing how to use the world around you to navigate is a very important skill. It goes much further than knowing how to read a map or looking at your electronics. Navigation is just that, navigating. It is a process that requires practice to hone your skills and find your way through. 

Piracy is an issue, but not as big as you might think it is. There are no pirates on the high seas that are boarding sailboats in the middle of the ocean. Pirates are interested in large cargo ships that carry a lot of valuables. Sailboats tend to be filled with poor cruisers. Old sailboats tend to be filled with poorer cruisers. Our sailboat is from 1968 and looks nothing like the sleek yachts of the global elite. Piracy around islands tends to involve theft of your belongings, particularly your inflatable dinghy and outboard motor. We don't have an inflatable, or an outboard; instead we have an undesirable wooden row boat. As far as being boarded, we feel strongly in choosing where to anchor based on current crime reports and talking with other cruisers about which islands to visit and which harbors to avoid.

In short, we don't have the experience under out belts like we do with living aboard and coastal cruising, but we do have the drive and the desire to go the distance. It just feels frustrating that every person we meet questions us and wants us to prove to them that we are capable seamen, even though the people who are judging our capabilities have never been sailing nor have any idea what we actually need to know. We are literally trying to impress blind people with pretty colors, they can never see what we are showing yet they will judge us harshly and cast a verdict without remorse.

The conversation usually ends with an uplifting: "Just don't die."

After the first go about with this conversation, you brush it off. After the tenth, you begin to question peoples intentions in asking. After the fiftieth, you begin to question yourself. After you question yourself, you then realize that you are ready and you are prepared. Why even entertain these questions?