Gavin over in the boatshed has just written some nice things about my boat building exploits.

He’s wrong though, when he says building my Walkabout must be a challenge – it’s easier than an Ikea wardrobe. No, really – or at least not in the ways you might imagine. Let me explain why I believe anyone with common sense and patience can build a boat like this.

Starting points:

• I have limited work working skills. I can put up shelves which (usually) stay up, even if they don’t look elegant. That’s pretty much been my limit.
• John Welsford designs boats specifically to be built by people with what he calls ‘average handyman skills’. The plans and instructions are clear, and his book a mine of useful tips and inspiration.
• I started with a kit of parts from Fyneboat Kits. I could have done it all myself, but based on my experience with a stitch and tape canoe, I realised that cutting out the frames accurately and neatly would be a slow job that I’d rather avoid.

With those starting points, it’s just been a case of taking one, generally fairly simple, step at a time. None of the steps needed special skills or special tools. I plan to write about the tools I used at some point, but for now I’d like to emphasise that I haven’t used any expensive power or hand tools. I have mainly stuck to my household tool box – replacing a few items that were rusty or blunt from lack of use or poor care.

A couple of items I did buy and they’ve been a revelation. I bought a cheap block plane (£8 or so) made of pressed steel, but it’s been a pleasure to use – and is essential for this sort of work. The current issue of Watercraft magazine has a review of a block plane, cast out of solid bronze or something, that costs over £100. Lovely, but not necessary.

The second item is really a partner for the plane – a sharpening kit at a cost of around £12. I’d never used a sharpening guide before and it’s made a huge difference – the plane is actually sharp and takes off wood like a cheese slicer slices cheese. I now have sharp chisels as well which are now also a joy to use.

That’s not to say there haven’t been some, not difficulties, but puzzles along the way. Generally these have been solved by stopping and thinking, often with a mug of tea in hand. If that’s not enough, an email to the John Welsford Builders group will provide the answer – often in the form of a response from John himself.

I’ve not been building to a deadline, self imposed or otherwise, so that has certainly made the build easier. Although I’ve not yet finished I can honestly say it’s been an almost invariably enjoyable experience.

When I think about the bits I haven’t enjoyed they’ve been caused by trying to rush and skip on preparation and planning. The key to success so far has been to focus on the work in hand, enjoying the feel of the tools as I work, appreciating the nature and quality of the wood as I cut or plane – even appreciating the magic of epoxy. And day dreaming, both of future voyages and of the next steps in construction – how exactly might I tackle that step? which bit to do first?

This may not truly be easier than an Ikea boat, but I’ve put together my share of flatpacks. Never once have I appreciated the quality of the materials, the movement of the allen key in my hand, the supportive camaraderie of the Ikea builders yahoo group. Nor have I dreamed of sitting in my wardrobe with the wind on my face, the gentle pull of the door in my hand, the sound of water lapping at chipboard and the sight of a gannet diving into the sea a few yards ahead.

This is the kind of sailing I’m looking forward to. When I’ve finished Slow Boatbuilding…

Whatever your craft, whether a rowing boat, or a luxury yacht, it’s your realationship with your boat and the sea that matters. Regardless of length, price and equipment, your craft isn’t just another of your many possesions but rather an agreeable travelling companion with whom you can learn about the sea and, more importantly, about yourself.

Spend time aboard your craft even if it’s just tied up in the harbour. Make the boat part of your living space. Do little jobs aboard, this will heighten your sense of ownership and will strengthen the ties between you and your craft.

Leave your hurries and worries on the quay when you go sailing. Go without a set time to return, as if you were leaving for a long journey. Forget your watch and let the sun guide you. If you take speed and time out of the equation you’re left only with space: the sea.

Sail without a strict course or destination. Let the wind and sea take you where they will. Don’t think about miles covered or those still to go. Don’t go anywhere, just sail and enjoy the moment.

Disconnect the electronics and sail like they used to. Learn not to depend on your instruments. When was the last time you took a bearing? Or a sun sight? Find your position and mark it on the chart. Forget the windspeed indicator, feel the wind on your face. Learn the art of sailing, become a real sailor.

Disconnect the mobile and turn off the music. Cut your ties with the land. Listen to the murrmuring sea, the bow wave, the flap of the sail, the breathing wind.

Don’t hog the helm. Let somebody else take it. How long has it been since you stretched out on deck or sat at the bow? If you’re sailing alone, tie off the tiller, balance the sails and let yourself go. Trust in your crew and in your boat.

Write a log book. Detail your sailing trips and note down your feelings. Then go back over your notes and re-live the experience. Share your experiences with others in what ever way suits you best.

Race, if that’s what you like, but don’t go for the prize. Go to learn about the sea, your boat and yourself. There’s no more stimulating prize than this.

Don’t desert your boat, she’d never desert you. (This is a play on a famous Spanish campaign to stem the amount of pets that are abandoned by the roadsides in Spain, particularly during the summer holidays.)

Contemplate the sea for a while each day, let its energy flow into you and take it wherever you go.

By Joan Sol via Ben of the Invisible Workshop – where you’ll find some great videos of Ben sailing the Western Mediterranean in a boat not unlike the Walkabout I’m building.

Thanks Joan and Ben.

…said my neighbour when she saw me working on the boat in my drive the other day. And you know what? Yes, I really am pleased with how the boat is coming on. Here’s what been going on…

All the planks now on, rear bouyancy tank and tiller tunnel partially done. Queen plank fitted, boomkin made – though not in this shot. The boat seems to turn into a tool box.

Decks cut to shape. They’ll each have a semi-circle cut out leave a narrow deck on each side. I’ll do that later. Needed to take the shape off before fitting the gunwale.

The gunwale is being steamed inside the mast, which is a 2 3/4 inch aluminium tube. Here it’s wrapped in insulation. While it’s steaming I cut the other spars to length, needs to be done some time and will be easier to store that 5 m lengths.

Gunwale is clamped into place while hot. The timber not quite long enough, so I’ll need to scarf two pieces together. It’s quite cramped in my garage!

David emailed me: he saw the photos in my previous post and said he’s been admiring this design for a while. But doesn’t understand the buding method.

It can’t be that difficult to explain I thought, so last night I got out pencil and paper. Here’s how it works, all fiddly detail – daggerboards etc – ignored. Obviously it would help if I could draw…

Step 1: Make a kit of parts.

The plans give dimensioned drawings of all the pieces. Mark on ply. Cut. (Actually I skipped this by buying the parts ready cut from Fyneboat Kits. I believe the same can got in other continents. I’ve done this stage before with my canoe – dull.)

Step 2: Build the jig

And set up the cross pieces at the spacing and heights specified.

Lay the bottom over…

And you have a squashed armadillo. Or if I could draw, the bottom panel nicely curved and ready for…

Step 3: Set up the other parts you cut out.

There’s lots of battens and string holding stuff in place that I’ve not drawn.

Step 4: Fix the stringers – one side done!

These sit in notches that I forgot to draw.

Step 5: Fit the planks (section view)

The planks are cut to fit. The stringers give you the shape, and something to fix them to. (Also forgot the stringer that sits on top edge of the bottom panel.)

Step 6: Fit the seat fronts and tops.

These are cut to fit. Fit planks and stringers to both sides first – not shown here.

Step 7: Fit the decking.

This forms bouyancy tanks fore and aft. The seats are tanks also.

That’s it really. Of course it’s not quite so simple: the frames and bulkheads have double thicknesses in places; the seats have framing; there’s the daggerboard case; the king and queen planks; the tunnel for the tiller lines; etc.

But hopefully this does illustrate what I see as the beautiful economy and elegance of the method:
- no redundant moulds
- most of the internal fit out is done as you go
- everything is an integral part of the strucure and the building process.

Just about to fit the seats – which form the tops of the side bouyancy tanks – when I remembered I needed to treat the insides of the tanks first.

As the wood preservative is pretty smelly, and the garage has a door to the house, I took advantage of the great weather this weekend to wheel the Walkabout outside. I tend to use the interior of the boat as a tool box and storage space as the garage is rather cramped. Cleared all the stuff out and decided she’s looking so good it’s time for some photos.

One of the things I love about John Welsford’s designs is the elegant economy of the construction method: no wasteful building moulds but instead frames that not only give the boat her shape but also form the seats/ bouyancy tanks. This also means that much of the internal fit out is done along the way.

Here’s the solution to the problem I was wrestling with about how to fit the stretcher brackets: laminated from three layers of 6mm ply, and for the main stretcher, bent into position wrapped in polythene before final shaping.

With advice from the designer I’ve adapted the rowing set up so she can be rowed singlehanded – as designed – or two handed. So I’ve added additional stretchers aft – not sure how they’ll work with mizzen mast – and lengthened the main stretcher brackets fowards.

I’ll need to make adjustable stretchers, i’ve got a design in mind, but will leave that for now.

Now it’s time to fit the seat tops and crack on with the next set of planking.

I had hoped to be at this event on Saturday, but the weather was against me. Several interesting new and historic small boats were going to be there. No report from the East Lothian Yacht Club yet.

The organiser emailed me:

We did manage to run the rowing race, but it was hard work in a bit of running swell and a F5 breeze.  Two Drascombes together with Paragon and Bedouin got out for a short sail, but it was pretty wild, possibly F6 by then.  We had two reefs and the storm jib, but still managed to bury the gunnel in the green a couple of times.  Still, at least it wasn’t raining!

No place for a sailing canoe. Hope to be there in the Walkabout next year.

…for my Walkabout to see daylight for the first time:

and for me to have more space to fit the second planks from the bottom.

This was a couple of months ago. Since then, the planks you can see have been tidied up; the stringers at the top of the planks planed down to give a flat surface for the seat tops. The remaining two top planks have have been cut, as have seat fronts and tops. Hatches for access to the bouyancy tanks have been fitted and seat fronts fitted.

I thought I was about to fit the seat tops – which would feel like real progress – but I’ve spent a while working out how to deal with the stretchers (foot rests for rowing). Making them, cutting and then neatening up is taking an age – it’s the small bits that are often so slow! One done, three more started. Then fitting them.

I’ve been waiting to have the seats all fitted before posting a photo, but have just remembered about this picture so putting it up now. Although she looks much the same, I’ve actually made a lot of progress since then – I keep telling myself!

My other boat is a sailing canoe…

Selkie at North Berwick

Selkie is a open canoe set up for sailing within the rules of the Open Canoe Sailing Group. From memory there is only one class rule – sail area no more than 44 sq ft.

Selkie is a Waterman 16, designed by Selway Fisher, built from plywood by myself a few years back. 16 ft LOA.

I found paddling in even a light sea very hard work, so she is now set up for rowing – much easier and faster.

It’s been a long time since I updated the blog. I’ve been very busy with work and any spare time has gone on building the boat, not blogging it. Anyway my plan is for the blog to be about sailing – and rowing – the Firth of Forth, not a documentary of the build.

The Firth – an estuary in Scotland – is almost on my doorstep, just a couple of hundred yards from my house in Portobello, a suburb of Edinburgh. It’s beautiful, with islands and great scenery, including Edinburgh from the sea – surely one of the great skylines of the world. They are beaches, bays and harbours to visit, and wildlife to see.

Can’t find many images of Edinburgh’s skyline from the sea – I’ll have to take some! This is from Kirkcaldy on the north side of the Firth. Image CC gordon2208

We so often feel we have to travel to experience new places. My aim is to experience my local place differently, whether it’s a couple of hours off the beach, or a day trip around some islands. There’s the potential for longer cruises both east and west, camping on the boat for a couple of nights.

That’s the plan, but I must build the boat first. A month or so back I was frustrated as I made slower progress than I’d hoped – the work became a chore as I raced to finish a job.

Now I’m getting back into the flow, taking pleasure from each task as I focus on the process and not progress towards the result. I’ve now got all but one pair of stringers on, have fitted the first pair of planks and cut the second pair. This afternoon I spent a couple of hours, the first for a few weeks, planing the edge of the first plank – to create what we boatbuilders call a faying surface. Once both sides are planed I’ll scarf and fit the missing stringers… But I’m getting ahead of myself.

If you have to make mistakes to learn, as they say, then I’m learning. I’m almost too embarrassed to post these images, but it does show that I’ve learnt I must be more careful cutting the stringers.

Exactly how I came to make such a mess, I’m not sure. I don’t think it was impatience to get on with epoxying. Rather, working with the stringers is pretty difficult as they try and spring back while I’m squashed in a corner under a shelf. Hopefully much of this can be disguised with epoxy later.

The stem from starboard. I’ve started to shape this side. I think the upper stringer is more successful – set back from the projecting middle sheet of the three that make up the stem.

And from port. Again the upper stringer is better. Perhaps I was worried about breaking the lower stringer.

Incidentally the stringers are thinner than specified – though JohnW did say it was ok.

After seeing these photos John Welsford (the designer) said:

That looks fine to me Osbert. As long as the stringer ends can be planed to be in line with the stem, and will stay where they are supposed to be until the planking is all glued in place then they are not going to be a problem.

Remember, “The mistake that cant be fixed with epoxy and some fiberglass cloth or pieces of plywood has not been born yet”

JohnW

So that’s good news!