Coming Apart at the Seam

On the technical side, it has been slow. Very slow. It is difficult to describe the frustration of nothing happening.

They seem to have got into a mind set that if something happens occasionally that will just about stop the client going into a rage. So something happens about once a week. The mast comes off, some visits to inspect the Another visit to suck teeth a bit more. A welfare visit occurs.

Any way we are just about keeping it together, just about.

Unlike this lot. 

Following the successful encounter with the Surveyor we were somewhat buoyed up but it has not really resulted in any acceleration of the rate of events. However finally the day arrived to remove the keel. This is the most high risk part of the process.

There is a young US couple called the Evans’s who do a video blog of them restoring a Beneteau 49.  This was an insurance right off following a grounding. They had a huge job of work to do but one of their main calamities was, when the keel was removed, a large bit of the underlying hull was ripped off with it.

https://youtu.be/dNXE_zftJv4

I did not share this with the engineers as clearly they were a bit anxious anyway. The day was set, and then changed because the senior travel lift chap was not available on the original date. He is clearly a crucial bit of the process.

Finally the drums rolled and the participants gathered. The marriage between keel and hull was to be broken, what was intended as a permanent association was to be rent asunder.

The keel had previously been welded in place in its steel cage to stop it falling over. I thought the level of engineering involved was a bit of overkill, but presumably the guys had had a bad experience in the past and were taking no chances.

The travel lift was put in place. The team went aboard to undo the keel bolts and scampered ashore before lift off took place. 

The travel lift revved up, the straps tightened and lifted, but the whole lot including the frame and welded structure slowly lifted off the ground. Hmmm

That's not meant to happen.

The team then adopted plan B. Stanley knives? 

They set about the Sikaflex at the edges of the seam between the keel and hull. However the rate of progress was such that this was not going to work. After half an hour they had dug out about 5 mms of Sikalflex, with only about a meter to go. Hmmm Hmmm.

Stanley knives!

The boss then sent someone off for a wire saw. In my previous world these were known as Gigli saws but not sure what they are in engineering. I suggesting an oscillating multitool saw might be helpful, but just got a stern look for my troubles.

Time was passing and I could see the travel lift guy getting a bit agitated. Suddenly, without any warning or apparent discussion, the travel lift roared into operation as its engine revved to maximum and a rapid sudden force was applied.

F =∆p/∆t.   He knew about impulse

The front of the keel/hull interface suddenly started to smile at me, and with an enormous bang the whole lot  gave way.

One relieved man!

I had flashbacks to what had occurred with Expedition Evans, but no, everything seemed to be intact. The senior travel lift guy had obviously done all this many times before, and seeing the way things were going had made a unilateral decision, just to go for it.

 It was clearly a bit of a high risk strategy. But hey, it was not his boat, and it was lunch time.

I have seen senior people making impetuous operational decisions before. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but sometimes it is the only available course of action to avoid missing lunch.

Clearly he knew a bit about the application of force. You cant move a stuck bolt by a slow increase in force, you have to hit it. 

In bits

There was a time when we had a boat. Then we had a boat without a mast, and now we have a boat in three different pieces. The deconstructed concept of a boat. A potential boat. 

It is probably not the time to become too philosophical about our circumstance, but would we ever have a boat again or do the laws of entropy mean that the process of disintegration will continue?

Lots of photos were taken and I studied the bits of boat in great detail. I was in CSI mode.

There were strange patterns of discolouration on the Sikaflex. Initially I though this must be rust staining but then the guys cleaned some of it up and it became coqnfusing. You should not interfere with a crime scene. I could not quite work out what had taken place forensically.

Finally going through all the photos again one suddenly made it clear. The discolouration was centred on a single bolt hole from which it spread out within the Sikaflex and then into the pattern of diesel staining on the hull and the keel. This could not be rust from the keel, or patterns of water ingress from the seam, but it was in fact the Diesel emanating out the way. Diesel does destroy Sikaflex!

This had been said by both the engineering company boss and the surveyor. I was somewhat sceptical and had searched the internet for evidence for this and could not really find any. I wondered if this was just a trope from within the boat yard industry. But here was good evidence before my eyes that this really is the case.

Good for my Insurance claim!

Over the next few days the guys cleaned everything up, ground off the Sikaflex degreased the hull and the keel, tapped all the threads in the keel, blew them out with compresses air, applied phosphoric acid to the keel surface, acetoned everything particularly the bolt holes in the hull and it pretty much looks like new.

Reassuringly there is no sign of any hull damage from the diesel, or previous grounding damage or anything else. So we are all ready to put it all back together again – next week, maybe Monday, maybe Tuesday! 

AAAARGGHH The rage is back.

Bummer

Oh and then this happened. Timing wise it coincided with my meeting with the globe trotting surveyor!

M ……..meanwhile domestic life goes on.

We are now part of boatyard community and on nodding terms with many of the workers who moped around in clouds of dust. All very friendly, calling out a cheery Merhaba on the way past and always rushing to help as I struggle to lift something.

We are also regular users of the canteen, primarily there for free meals for the workers, but open to visitors. A princely £1.75 for a 3 course meal.

Being vegetarian, I examined the vats. ‘is there meat in this ? ‘ No meat was the response. I did a little whoop and let out a ‘ yay!’. Now every time I go in they either do a wee dance and a chorus of ‘ no meat, no meat ‘ ...or all stand looking jokingly crestfallen shaking their heads in apology. 

There’s no choice in the menu and the format is usually a bowl of lentil soup, a main course of something sloppy in a tomato sauce, accompanied by Tzazikiki, and a pudding of sorts. Sometimes yoghurt, custard, semolina balls in honey or a slab of halva. Always an apple or orange.

 The main course is usually beans of some sort , fresh green, kidney or chickpeas, together with pasta or rice. It doesn’t sound delicious I know but it’s always good healthy fare and if this is typical of local home cooking it explains the relative lack of obesity and the many wiry slender oldies who still work here. The local supermarkets have become more westernised during our years in Turkey, but they still have aisles of dried beans, pasta, rice, vegetables in full technicolour, and little in the way of ready meals.

Catering onboard is virtually impossible . We did try staying in one of the marina ‘ guestrooms’ . I thought we’d have a bit of luxury and pampering, but it was a miserable experience with depressing bleakness. So we have returned to our shell to hole up until launch date. At least its cozy and comfortable. Its given me a chance to do lots of jobs aboard, including go through our cupboards that have been accumulating detritus over the past few years.

My excellent assortment of spices for example. Only 6 yrs old and plenty left…. Then I saw in the depths of the paprika pot a flicker of movement. A definite wriggle. It was full of larvae and crawling beetles. How can anything survive in pure Paprika ? Apparently the tobacco beetle knows. Common knowledge to everyone q1qexcept me. I shall examine our spices at home with newfound interest.

Shoe basket, joy!

Colin has already let the cat out of the bag by describing my Wombling tendencies. I’m guilty as charged. You wouldn’t believe the stuff people chuck out, triggering my lifelong aversion to waste, and love of making something useful out of potential landfill.

So here’s the list to date…

Moral support

Comfy too. 

1. wicker basket… just the job for shoe collection to avoid bringing dust and mud onboard.

2. A heap of grey canvas. Perfectly useable. Used to make a winch cover since we have one missing

3. swimming noodle. Well. In a past year Colin brought silver insulating polystyrene to put on the rear wire rail to lean against while steering. Over the years sunshine has reduced it to a powdery disintegration. What better replacement than a swimming noodle. Not pretty, or even RYA approved, but perfectly practical.

4. More canvas. Black this time…. Solution to the ugly noodle…. Almost looks nautical.

5. huge tarpaulin. Always handy

6. foam. Our saggy saloon cushions needed a boost. Much comfier!

So there we are. Stir crazy in a boatyard. What shall I find next ?

I spent the day yesterday trying to buff up the hull. Everyone else, as previously explained spends days polishing and scrubbing, mostly with huge electric polishers. Never mind. I have a cloth and a bottle of car polish. I’m sure a bit of good elbow grease will do the trick.

Sadly not. Despite my best efforts I have managed to leave blobs of blue polish. Think modern abstract art.

Never mind, no harm done ….. I’m sure it’ll never be noticed on the high seas…. If we ever get there...