The last week has been spent sanding, and oiling, and sanding, and oiling. The boat interior is over all well smoothed and ready for varnish. There is about 2 square feet of planking that has a mysterious black paint spatter that is under the last coat of varnish and too deep to sand by hand. I will have to strip down the varnish a layer, hopefully removing the offending spatter without removing the patina of the wood and original varnish. Well there is always stain.
The process has been tedious, and not a lot to show in pictures. I did have the epiphany - I probably could have avoided sanding the entire boat, and simply applied a coat of linseed oil to refresh and clean the wood, but that would not have caused arthritis in my hand.
So, as you may remember, the planks on the canoe are made from cedar harvested around 1964 - its really old and brittle. Over the many years of use, canoes have things happen - they get dropped, they hit rocks, the break and rot in places. Fortunately for me, there is not a lot of significant damage to the planks, but all of the damage appears to be on the left side. If you look at the bottom left side of the canoe most of the boards are missing - accounting for about 10% of the hull. Looking at it today, it appears unlikely that it will ever float.
The solution to this is simple -
1. Remove the nails with a nail puller - a delicate claw and pry tool that digs into the wood, under the nail head, and pops it out, without significant damage - I say "significant" because the wood is now useless, but it is still wood.
2. Find replacement cedar, preferably old stuff, to match the existing wood around the canoe, and then oil, stain, and varnish it to match
3. Using special brass tacks, replace the plank in the exact same size and shape, and using a hunk of steel behind the nail to round over the point (called "clinching")
My intent was to use the cedar I purchased on Columbus Day, but someone (out of luck) at the boat school was pulling down an old shed with siding made from 5 inch cedar planks. So using a planer (designed to smooth and level wood), I took to shaping this cedar, with a half inch on one side and a 1/4 inch on the other, making a wedge, by running it through a planer from 50 years ago. Hundreds of passes later, I now have a 7 foot length and a few 4-footers to replace the missing pieces - about 3/8's of an inch thick. To put it in context, 3/8 is thinner than an iPad. The wood has to be this thin to make the bends required to shape around the hull of the boat.
Staining has been a challenge though. The wood planks have aged into a golden patina, while the newer wood is darker and stains even deeper. I suspect that a few coats of lineed oil and then the varnish will help it lighten, but I also suspect I am wrong. In fact, it is likely I will have stripes of plans that run down the interior of the hull.
Today, I finished up by finishing the interior sanding, and washed out the dust. I will need to put a coat of linseed oil onto the exposed wood opened by the sanding, and then this oil will have to sit for several days (perhaps weeks). In fact, it is likely that soon I will have to bring the canoe into the living room, for it to heat up and dry the oil as the weather is getting colder and everything is taking longer to dry.
Lastly, on a side note, the planing of the cedar left me with a nose full of particulate, but more interesting was the q-tip full of cedar dust - no wonder my wife won't nibble on my earlobes. Happy 10th anniversary to my wife.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Columbus Day - Getting wood and sanding my mahogany.
I know, you are jealous already. I had the day off today, which took my initial weekend of work and extended it by one day. A nice bonus, but I spent most of it preparing to work, and just a small percentage on actual work.
On Monday morning, after letting my bride sleep in a bit (Seriously, it was like 11am, before I hit the road, after prepping one kid for school and prepping the other for a morning nap. I jumped in the jeep, looking for a place called The Mill, in Fallston, MD. It might surprise you, but after ripping out a bunch of old cedar and mahogany, I need to replace it. More interesting is the fact that this wood isn't cheap, but we will get to that.
I start my 22 mile trek to the Mill, and when I arrive, I find exactly that - A saw mill, and three guys working it. There is no shop, but there is lots of wood. It is surprisingly hard to capture the attention of mill workers when there is a saw blade that will mulch you up at 70,000 RPM. I finally surrender, and as I am walking away, the owner walks up (I assume he was the owner, as he was the older white guy - and yes I know how racist that sounds, but the other two guys were not the owner, and in fact of questionable citizenship.)
He wears the wardrobe of a guy who makes his own hours - shorts, t-shirt and a heavy layer of wood chips. He points me toward Frank Thomas Lumber, about 5 miles up the road. When I arrive at Thomas', I am met by Charlie Thomas, a larger man, who has clearly been around lumber longer than I have been on the planet. He ambles around the sawdust piles, and the stacks of lumber, until he finds me the mahogany I am seeking. Of course, I was hoping to find an 18 foot length to replace the outwales, and old Charlie max'es out around 16. When I find out it is 7 bucks a foot, I quickly change my strategy to "patch" instead of replace. Someday when I am rich I will replace, but for now, the canoe will float with "patch". Charlie planes an 8 foot section smooth, on a surface planer that has been in the shop since the 1950s that they bought from the Navy. The Navy used it before them to mill the wooden decks on the aircraft carriers. Yes it was that old, and still ran like a champ. Yes son, our country once made things that last, but go see my other blog - harnessedelectrons. And then we chat - for 20 minutes. I learn that his mill has been in the family for years and he was working at the mill when he was 8. He tells me about "Sewer Lumber" - the stuff they use to reinforce ditches so they don't collapse on the workers, and how that was the kind of stuff the other "Mill" sells. It is interesting, as it never occurred to me that someone makes their living creating lumber for ditch workers. Of course it makes sense, but I suspect if the wood isn't good enough for houses, I am not sure I want it keeping the earth from caving in on me.
On an weird note, Charlie quoted me 7 bucks a board foot on the 8 foot length. And I paid 35 and tax. I don't know what happened, and I still have about 5 feet more than I will ever need, but for now, I feel like I got a deal.
Charlie is a funny guy with a big personality. We sat in his paneled office, which also serves as their records room, and apparently where they keep liquid flammables as there was a wall of lubricants, solvents, and other toxins. Which apparently the stink bugs and carpenter bees didn't mind as there was a small swarm of those too. Surprisingly Charlie seems in good health nonetheless. But Charlie didn't have cedar, and I needed some cedar too. So Charlie called down to the boys at Glen Arm Lumber, about 10 minutes outside of Baltimore, and another 20 minutes southeast of home. They got some, and Charlie gives me directions. These directions seemed straightforward, but I guess my definition of "close" and Charlie's is the difference between millimeters and light years.
I literally went over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house, and then a little farther, but there it was. A little hardware store with a gigantic lumber selection behind it. There the owner was a younger guy, who was really helpful. He helped me find a nice piece of straight grain cedar (which should help me bend it a bit easier and make it fit nicer) and then he cut it from a 16ft. section. Again, 8 feet of 2x6 is way more than I would need, but I am ready for the next canoe already, or to make a nice donation to the School.
And I as I was checking out, there was this tall old guy who heard me talking about the canoe. And so it began again. This guy was a local resident, and orthopeadic surgeon, who happened to have rehabilitated "three or four" wood and canvas canoes in his time. A great guy and another source of knowledge. I learned that the keel on the boat was actually probably Oak, which I didn't have any (and didn't have the measurements either), but the owner tells me I can call back and he will mill it for me. Of course, I will call him, after I figure out if someone closer to me has Oak too. It was a good time - something out of Tool Time with Tim Taylor. Three generations of guys sitting around the hardware store for too long sharing stories and shooting the breeze. I left in search of the WoodCraft store - I asked the guys at Glen Arm Lumber where I could get really good saws - A little awkward to ask the hardware store guy where you can buy good saws, but fortunately he knew what I was looking for, and off I went - another 20 minutes south and east into the fringes of Baltimore. You would think that all great woodworkers orbit around Charm City.
Glen Arm's directions were similar to Charlie - turn right at the stop, follow that around, until you come to another right - him - "it just goes right, but you could also go left, so just don't turn". Me - "Got it"
And off I went, this time passing the Hansel and Gretel and their house of candy, and I think I saw ET. It was just another long windy road, made longer by the 30mph signs and people who pay attention to them.
When I got to Woodcraft, I found a great little woodworkers supply shop, run by an older guy and a younger gal, who seemed to balance each other in knowledge. She was clearly the novice, learning from his mastery. It seems like every one of her responses to every question asked of her was confirmed by his approving look or his interjection. However, it was interesting as her jeans, worn by sawdust and edged tools implied more experience behind her answers than his clean clothes, so I would imagine she knows her way around the dovetail joint and the table saw. I bought my two saws and I was off. After a short trip into Home Depot for paint stripper and epoxy (Yes, I will be using some to fill smaller holes as well.), I was home and off to work.
Today's project, and far less interesting to the hours leading up to it is sanding. This will be a common task for this project, but today I sanded the outwales removed over the weekend down to their original wood, removing the peeling varnish and the caked on paint from the overage on the hull. I was planning to use the stripper for this task but the coatings just came off clean, leaving the reddish wood to shine through. Two-ish hours later, the wood was pristine, and ready for a final sanding which I will do later this week. Unfortunately, this is the sad reality of the project for the reader - sometimes the work is just laborious, and there is no way to make it interesting - oh wait, did I forget the police raid? No, because there was nothing interesting. I thought I covered that.
On Monday morning, after letting my bride sleep in a bit (Seriously, it was like 11am, before I hit the road, after prepping one kid for school and prepping the other for a morning nap. I jumped in the jeep, looking for a place called The Mill, in Fallston, MD. It might surprise you, but after ripping out a bunch of old cedar and mahogany, I need to replace it. More interesting is the fact that this wood isn't cheap, but we will get to that.
I start my 22 mile trek to the Mill, and when I arrive, I find exactly that - A saw mill, and three guys working it. There is no shop, but there is lots of wood. It is surprisingly hard to capture the attention of mill workers when there is a saw blade that will mulch you up at 70,000 RPM. I finally surrender, and as I am walking away, the owner walks up (I assume he was the owner, as he was the older white guy - and yes I know how racist that sounds, but the other two guys were not the owner, and in fact of questionable citizenship.)
He wears the wardrobe of a guy who makes his own hours - shorts, t-shirt and a heavy layer of wood chips. He points me toward Frank Thomas Lumber, about 5 miles up the road. When I arrive at Thomas', I am met by Charlie Thomas, a larger man, who has clearly been around lumber longer than I have been on the planet. He ambles around the sawdust piles, and the stacks of lumber, until he finds me the mahogany I am seeking. Of course, I was hoping to find an 18 foot length to replace the outwales, and old Charlie max'es out around 16. When I find out it is 7 bucks a foot, I quickly change my strategy to "patch" instead of replace. Someday when I am rich I will replace, but for now, the canoe will float with "patch". Charlie planes an 8 foot section smooth, on a surface planer that has been in the shop since the 1950s that they bought from the Navy. The Navy used it before them to mill the wooden decks on the aircraft carriers. Yes it was that old, and still ran like a champ. Yes son, our country once made things that last, but go see my other blog - harnessedelectrons. And then we chat - for 20 minutes. I learn that his mill has been in the family for years and he was working at the mill when he was 8. He tells me about "Sewer Lumber" - the stuff they use to reinforce ditches so they don't collapse on the workers, and how that was the kind of stuff the other "Mill" sells. It is interesting, as it never occurred to me that someone makes their living creating lumber for ditch workers. Of course it makes sense, but I suspect if the wood isn't good enough for houses, I am not sure I want it keeping the earth from caving in on me.
On an weird note, Charlie quoted me 7 bucks a board foot on the 8 foot length. And I paid 35 and tax. I don't know what happened, and I still have about 5 feet more than I will ever need, but for now, I feel like I got a deal.
Charlie is a funny guy with a big personality. We sat in his paneled office, which also serves as their records room, and apparently where they keep liquid flammables as there was a wall of lubricants, solvents, and other toxins. Which apparently the stink bugs and carpenter bees didn't mind as there was a small swarm of those too. Surprisingly Charlie seems in good health nonetheless. But Charlie didn't have cedar, and I needed some cedar too. So Charlie called down to the boys at Glen Arm Lumber, about 10 minutes outside of Baltimore, and another 20 minutes southeast of home. They got some, and Charlie gives me directions. These directions seemed straightforward, but I guess my definition of "close" and Charlie's is the difference between millimeters and light years.
I literally went over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house, and then a little farther, but there it was. A little hardware store with a gigantic lumber selection behind it. There the owner was a younger guy, who was really helpful. He helped me find a nice piece of straight grain cedar (which should help me bend it a bit easier and make it fit nicer) and then he cut it from a 16ft. section. Again, 8 feet of 2x6 is way more than I would need, but I am ready for the next canoe already, or to make a nice donation to the School.
And I as I was checking out, there was this tall old guy who heard me talking about the canoe. And so it began again. This guy was a local resident, and orthopeadic surgeon, who happened to have rehabilitated "three or four" wood and canvas canoes in his time. A great guy and another source of knowledge. I learned that the keel on the boat was actually probably Oak, which I didn't have any (and didn't have the measurements either), but the owner tells me I can call back and he will mill it for me. Of course, I will call him, after I figure out if someone closer to me has Oak too. It was a good time - something out of Tool Time with Tim Taylor. Three generations of guys sitting around the hardware store for too long sharing stories and shooting the breeze. I left in search of the WoodCraft store - I asked the guys at Glen Arm Lumber where I could get really good saws - A little awkward to ask the hardware store guy where you can buy good saws, but fortunately he knew what I was looking for, and off I went - another 20 minutes south and east into the fringes of Baltimore. You would think that all great woodworkers orbit around Charm City.
Glen Arm's directions were similar to Charlie - turn right at the stop, follow that around, until you come to another right - him - "it just goes right, but you could also go left, so just don't turn". Me - "Got it"
And off I went, this time passing the Hansel and Gretel and their house of candy, and I think I saw ET. It was just another long windy road, made longer by the 30mph signs and people who pay attention to them.
When I got to Woodcraft, I found a great little woodworkers supply shop, run by an older guy and a younger gal, who seemed to balance each other in knowledge. She was clearly the novice, learning from his mastery. It seems like every one of her responses to every question asked of her was confirmed by his approving look or his interjection. However, it was interesting as her jeans, worn by sawdust and edged tools implied more experience behind her answers than his clean clothes, so I would imagine she knows her way around the dovetail joint and the table saw. I bought my two saws and I was off. After a short trip into Home Depot for paint stripper and epoxy (Yes, I will be using some to fill smaller holes as well.), I was home and off to work.
 |
| The Outwales, oiled with Linseed Oil, and one coat of varnish |
 |
| Taking over my dining room to work while it is raining. |
Today's project, and far less interesting to the hours leading up to it is sanding. This will be a common task for this project, but today I sanded the outwales removed over the weekend down to their original wood, removing the peeling varnish and the caked on paint from the overage on the hull. I was planning to use the stripper for this task but the coatings just came off clean, leaving the reddish wood to shine through. Two-ish hours later, the wood was pristine, and ready for a final sanding which I will do later this week. Unfortunately, this is the sad reality of the project for the reader - sometimes the work is just laborious, and there is no way to make it interesting - oh wait, did I forget the police raid? No, because there was nothing interesting. I thought I covered that.
Friday, October 15, 2010
First Weekend & Introduction
So this is my diary about the renovation, rehabilitation and reconstruction of a 1964 Old Town Canoe (and likely my sanity). I have have elected to blog about this to share what I have done with my friends who might be interested, and to help record what I did for this canoe. If I start a new project after this one (Heaven help me and my marriage), I will continue this - Otherwise, this is a one-and-done journal. I hope this gives you some insights on what it takes to bring an older canoe back to life.
The project - I purchased a 1964 Old Town Canoe from a guy in St. Michaels. Amy and I took the kids to the small craft festival in October, 2010 at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum, as I was interested in building a small boat (canoe/kayak) from scratch. I was really planning to talk to the guys from Chesapeake Light Craft, who have some beautiful kits and they sell the plans as well. My thought was to buy the plans and then see if I could find the materials and build it over a few years. All of this was predicated upon the boat building course I am taking at the Harford County Community College (Northeastern Maryland's Harvard)
I brought it home on Friday and so the work began. First, I had to build something on which I could work. Called "stretchers", these makeshift saw horses with strapping on top to hold the boat up and off of the ground. The straps allow the boat to rotate with little friction, cradling the hull in a concave loop of nylon fabric. I only mention this, as I was up late on Thursday building these. By the way, you would be surprised to know that it is more difficult than it might seem to find nylon webbing. Thank you REI.
Once the canoe was home, I started the disassembly. To get the canvas off, it is a several step process. Two long pieces of mahogany run long each side on either side of the ribs on both sides of the boat. These are known as the Gunwales - each side having an Inwale and an Outwale (inwale is on the interior of the ribs, and the outwale is on the outside of the rib).
To remove the canvas, the Outwale had to be removed on each side. This is a series of flat head screws that holds the wood in place. Once removed, it exposes a series of brass tacks that hold the canvas in place along the edges.
At each end are two copper (or brass - not sure yet - need to strip and polish) pieces that serve to protect the ends of the canoe. These are also held in place with smaller flat tipped screws. Once removes the boat is then turned upside down and the long wooded keel is removed after the screws are removed from the inside along the bottom middle.
All of this was fairly easy, except that the previous owners had made ad hoc repairs, replacing screws with the wrong ones or using epoxy to fill holes and repair large breaks. Epoxy is the boaters equivalent to bondo in the auto repair world. It also serves as a cure all, and is often abused. It is also an excellent glue, with waterproof super-strong bonds.
I then removed all of the tacks along the ribs, and along the bow and stern edges (Bow is the front, Stern is the back for newbies). There were about 15,000 tacks, and I removed and bagged them all. (All of the parts being removed are being carefully bagged, labeled and stored for re-use later, but I suspect the tacks are trashed.)
Now, comes the removal of the canvas. The canvas is just like what you think of canvas - softer, like an artists canvas. However, to make it waterproof, the builders filled the canvas' pores with a white lead paste mixture, that is likely highly toxic, which in turn makes the canvas roll like aluminum sheeting instead. Once I had broken the canvas free from the one end, I rolled it up toward the other, exposing the red cedar planks underneath. When I got to the far end, I cut the canvas free, and then pulled off the remained from the end. The cedar was magnificent and the canoe brought me back to an older way of building.
It was funny, when I was in class, someone was talking about a friend of theirs who had just bought a canoe made of some modern plastic. Immediately the crowd greeted the news with groans, and smart assed comments. References to Tupperware were made, comments about never riding in one of those followed soon after. This is not to disparage those who buy the more modern canoe, but I can say that with my new investment, I can see why - it is the difference between buying the old 1960's Camaro, and buying the new sports car. There is something about working on something so old, built with limited tools, and natural products. The design of the canoe hadn't evolved significantly in hundreds of years, and the wood and canvas canoe remains fairly true to the original designed brought forth by early craftsmen and Native Americans. It is pretty impressive - it still works well.
With the canvas removed, it is now time to see what you have really bought - The canvas gives an appearance of solid, but once removed, the stems (the wood on the inside of the planks that runs behind the curved bow and stern, and provides the rounded edge that cuts through the water) are beaten pretty badly with rot and nail holes. Surprise number 1. I left these alone at first and focused on the broken planks in the hull - referred to as checks. Checks happen when the boat is dropped on a rock or when it hits something in the water. The wood buckles, while the canvas remains solid. However, over the years, checks leave black marks under the varnish.
Once you identify the broken plank from above, the canoe is rolled over so you can access the plan from underneath. The plank is made of 4"x3/8" red cedar. You remove a section of no less than 3 ribs of planking (the section must span at least three ribs to minimize structural compromise - I can assure you, most of mine for 4-5 ribs). To make it tougher, you have to ensure that the joints are staggered, so you might lose a little more material than you would otherwise need. You take a straight edge and cut along the plank, over the center of a rib. Fortunately the original nailer (person who nailed) had a tendency to nail back and forth so I simply cut between the nails. Once cut, I had to remove all of the nails - Interestingly, when the nails were originally driven, they used brass tacks and drove them through the plank and into the rib. They worked in pairs and while the guy with the hammer drove the nail, the partner stood on the other side with a solid piece of steel, which provided a surface which offered a solid base onto which the hammerer could drive the nail. The steel then curled over the point of the nail as it tried to come through the wood. Once curled, the nails were very difficult to remove. I used a detailed nail puller, to preserve the plank to the extent possible. Once I have replacement material, I will use the old piece as a template. I removed a total of 9 sections of wood, ranging from about 9 inches to about 20 inches.
After the planks were removed, numbered and stored, I began to remove the decks. The decks are semi-flat pieces of white cedar that allow the stem to meet with the gunwales to form a solid connection. Further the decks provide hand holds for pulling or carrying the boat. Lastly, the decks have a decorative label and provide a nice finished look. Unfortunately, it is also where boats seem to rot the most. when stored upside down, the water runs down as these are the lowest parts of the boat, and water collects inside and out. In turn, the one end is rotting, and the other end is rotted and then filled in with about 6 pounds of epoxy. This epoxy and rot ran into the stems, and two of the rib tips. All of these will need to be replaced. It is starting to feel like with everything new I uncover, I find something else.
In short, rot seems to be in both ends pretty rampantly. This is fairly common, but unfortunately, this was one more lottery I have lost. I will be spending much of my time cutting, patching and repairing the wood in these areas for the weeks to come.
Stay tuned.
The project - I purchased a 1964 Old Town Canoe from a guy in St. Michaels. Amy and I took the kids to the small craft festival in October, 2010 at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum, as I was interested in building a small boat (canoe/kayak) from scratch. I was really planning to talk to the guys from Chesapeake Light Craft, who have some beautiful kits and they sell the plans as well. My thought was to buy the plans and then see if I could find the materials and build it over a few years. All of this was predicated upon the boat building course I am taking at the Harford County Community College (Northeastern Maryland's Harvard)
 |
| 16ft Old Town Canoe |
We parked at the festival and were walking in - hadn't been there more than 10 minutes, and we found a husband and wife with two canoes on the roof - one of which was for sale. A handmade sign read "1960's canoe - $425", and knowing nothing about it, we stopped and talked, but it was already too late. I had been pricing "older" (wood and canvas, as they are known) canoes, and found most to be a lot more, in worse condition, or for those in mint condition, between $1,000 and 7,000. I brought back some of the instructors from the school, and an hour later, I had bought my first canoe. The canoe is a 1964 Old Town Guide, a fairly common boat, somewhat mass produced in Maine. It is made from Red Cedar, White Cedar, and Mahogany on the really hard parts. It has a thick piece of canvas on over the hull to protect it and waterproof it. Unfortunately, mine also had a ton of epoxy and broken planks. (Planks run longways along the hull, between the ribs and the canvas and give the hull its semi-solid base.)  |
| The Stern (no, not Howard - the back end) |
Once the canoe was home, I started the disassembly. To get the canvas off, it is a several step process. Two long pieces of mahogany run long each side on either side of the ribs on both sides of the boat. These are known as the Gunwales - each side having an Inwale and an Outwale (inwale is on the interior of the ribs, and the outwale is on the outside of the rib).
 |
| The outwales on top of the canoe |
To remove the canvas, the Outwale had to be removed on each side. This is a series of flat head screws that holds the wood in place. Once removed, it exposes a series of brass tacks that hold the canvas in place along the edges.
 |
| The Shiny pieces are the stem bands. Solid brass (I think) |
 |
| Stem band removed, and only a little canvas remaining |
At each end are two copper (or brass - not sure yet - need to strip and polish) pieces that serve to protect the ends of the canoe. These are also held in place with smaller flat tipped screws. Once removes the boat is then turned upside down and the long wooded keel is removed after the screws are removed from the inside along the bottom middle.
All of this was fairly easy, except that the previous owners had made ad hoc repairs, replacing screws with the wrong ones or using epoxy to fill holes and repair large breaks. Epoxy is the boaters equivalent to bondo in the auto repair world. It also serves as a cure all, and is often abused. It is also an excellent glue, with waterproof super-strong bonds.
 |
| The top of the deck is solid epoxy 4 inches deep |
I then removed all of the tacks along the ribs, and along the bow and stern edges (Bow is the front, Stern is the back for newbies). There were about 15,000 tacks, and I removed and bagged them all. (All of the parts being removed are being carefully bagged, labeled and stored for re-use later, but I suspect the tacks are trashed.)
 |
| The first big hunk of canvas removed |
Now, comes the removal of the canvas. The canvas is just like what you think of canvas - softer, like an artists canvas. However, to make it waterproof, the builders filled the canvas' pores with a white lead paste mixture, that is likely highly toxic, which in turn makes the canvas roll like aluminum sheeting instead. Once I had broken the canvas free from the one end, I rolled it up toward the other, exposing the red cedar planks underneath. When I got to the far end, I cut the canvas free, and then pulled off the remained from the end. The cedar was magnificent and the canoe brought me back to an older way of building.
 |
| The naked lady - Canvas removed and 50 year old cedar |
It was funny, when I was in class, someone was talking about a friend of theirs who had just bought a canoe made of some modern plastic. Immediately the crowd greeted the news with groans, and smart assed comments. References to Tupperware were made, comments about never riding in one of those followed soon after. This is not to disparage those who buy the more modern canoe, but I can say that with my new investment, I can see why - it is the difference between buying the old 1960's Camaro, and buying the new sports car. There is something about working on something so old, built with limited tools, and natural products. The design of the canoe hadn't evolved significantly in hundreds of years, and the wood and canvas canoe remains fairly true to the original designed brought forth by early craftsmen and Native Americans. It is pretty impressive - it still works well.
With the canvas removed, it is now time to see what you have really bought - The canvas gives an appearance of solid, but once removed, the stems (the wood on the inside of the planks that runs behind the curved bow and stern, and provides the rounded edge that cuts through the water) are beaten pretty badly with rot and nail holes. Surprise number 1. I left these alone at first and focused on the broken planks in the hull - referred to as checks. Checks happen when the boat is dropped on a rock or when it hits something in the water. The wood buckles, while the canvas remains solid. However, over the years, checks leave black marks under the varnish.
Once you identify the broken plank from above, the canoe is rolled over so you can access the plan from underneath. The plank is made of 4"x3/8" red cedar. You remove a section of no less than 3 ribs of planking (the section must span at least three ribs to minimize structural compromise - I can assure you, most of mine for 4-5 ribs). To make it tougher, you have to ensure that the joints are staggered, so you might lose a little more material than you would otherwise need. You take a straight edge and cut along the plank, over the center of a rib. Fortunately the original nailer (person who nailed) had a tendency to nail back and forth so I simply cut between the nails. Once cut, I had to remove all of the nails - Interestingly, when the nails were originally driven, they used brass tacks and drove them through the plank and into the rib. They worked in pairs and while the guy with the hammer drove the nail, the partner stood on the other side with a solid piece of steel, which provided a surface which offered a solid base onto which the hammerer could drive the nail. The steel then curled over the point of the nail as it tried to come through the wood. Once curled, the nails were very difficult to remove. I used a detailed nail puller, to preserve the plank to the extent possible. Once I have replacement material, I will use the old piece as a template. I removed a total of 9 sections of wood, ranging from about 9 inches to about 20 inches.
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| Lots to be removed - That is a 12 inch ruler |
After the planks were removed, numbered and stored, I began to remove the decks. The decks are semi-flat pieces of white cedar that allow the stem to meet with the gunwales to form a solid connection. Further the decks provide hand holds for pulling or carrying the boat. Lastly, the decks have a decorative label and provide a nice finished look. Unfortunately, it is also where boats seem to rot the most. when stored upside down, the water runs down as these are the lowest parts of the boat, and water collects inside and out. In turn, the one end is rotting, and the other end is rotted and then filled in with about 6 pounds of epoxy. This epoxy and rot ran into the stems, and two of the rib tips. All of these will need to be replaced. It is starting to feel like with everything new I uncover, I find something else.
In short, rot seems to be in both ends pretty rampantly. This is fairly common, but unfortunately, this was one more lottery I have lost. I will be spending much of my time cutting, patching and repairing the wood in these areas for the weeks to come.
Stay tuned.
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