May 3, 2009
Yankee Point Marina, Virginia
(just a bit off the Rappahannock River)
Just sittin' on the boat,
Gettin' soakin' wet.
Now the paint won't dry
I might just up and cry.
It is said that one should not cry over spilled milk; I might add nor should one cry over a rainy day. Michael and I have just spent the last four days preparing to paint the hull of our current boat, a 1981 Schucker 436 motorsailor. Having spent most of its (?) life in Florida, the original gelcoat was definitely in need of painting. We purchased Sandpiper in the spring of 2002 on our way north for the summer. We had seen another, Mixed Blessing, in the Bahamas and became envious of the level of liveability the motorsailor could provide.
We took our Cape Dory to Washington, D.C. for a month (tourist thing) and Michael and our friend Jack Engels drove back to Florida and brought the Schucker up to Deltaville, VA, where we subsequently sold Beowulf that Fall. After seeing all that we had hoped to see in Washington, we then went back to Deltaville and began the process of moving on to the Schucker.
Why switch boats when we loved our Cape Dory 36, a boat we had owned for 14 years? The 10.5' beam of the Cape Dory does not compare to the added benefit of a 14' beam on the Schucker. We were now living aboard full-time and our needs had changed. Our favorite trip is to make the semi-annual journey down the ICW from the Chesapeake to Florida and back. A pilothouse provides us with plenty of protection from either the sun's rays or the bitter cold of a Nor'easter. It also draws 3.5', a real plus for our cruising: west coast of Florida, the Keys, the Great Loop and the Bahamas.
I've diverted from the blog so I'll get back to painting the hull. After receiving estimates that ranged from $20,000 to $40,000, we became instantly inspired to do the job ourselves. It did, however, take a few years for us to muster the courage. We painted the deck and pilothouse while staying at Jekyll Island Harbor Marina, Georgia, the winter of '08. 100 hours. We work slow; correction, I work slow. Michael has done the lion's share of the work. It requires daily prep work and then the window of opportunity lasts about two hours before the two-part paint sets up. We spread that 100 hours over six weeks, working only when the weather would permit. A daily routine of wiping off the dew, sanding, wiping again with a special solvent, and then applying the primer or paint. Shamelessly, I worked bent over with my hind end on display, giving plenty for marina patrons to talk about. But, we did get the deck and pilothouse painting before we had to start our journey back to Virginia where we leave the boat during the summer months.
November '09
(Beaufort, SC)
Our plan to return to the boat the following September ('08) was changed while we stayed back in Indiana to help Martha's older sister through her chemo treatments. And that's why we returned to the boat in April ('09), thinking we might just have enough time to paint the hull.
April showers bring May flowers. Shoulda remembered that old saying. Out of 12 days, it rained all but four. We did manage to put on two coats of primer, however, and hoped it would be okay without the final coats until we could return in September.
We returned again in September and, just like clockwork, we were able to put on three coats of topcoat during the only seven-day run of low humidity and no rain, requirements of applying two-part paint. three days for the white and three days for the wide blue stripe.
The process on a daily basis never really changed: wipe down the boat to remove dew, apply solvent to remove any trace of wax from the manufacturing process, apply additional epoxy to dings that show up after sanding, sand and then wipe down again with solvent. Then Michael, the chemist, mixes the two-part paint while I wait, armed with my roller and tipping brush. Because we wanted as smooth a surface as possible on the hull, I roll and Mike tips, removing as many bubbles in the paint as possible. It is amazing how much is missed, so we apply three coats of topcoat.
Now, we are not only "anchorage quality," but can respectfully pull in to most marinas without them having to wave us off.
