My boaty learning curve has been steep and it’s not over yet. Take, for instance, a bilge. Two years ago, if someone had said the word bilge to me, I would have guessed it came from Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky:
This spring I steam cleaned all the cushions in the boat. It was worth it though it nearly broke my will to live a clean life.
It’s time to prime! And paint!
Sometime in the 1920s or 1930’s my grandmother, Delsie Geneva Ames, set out from Connecticut as a new bride with 3 cedar trunks full of china, silver, linens, and an oil lamp from a ship. Continue reading “This little light of mine”
The time between this post and the last post was brought to you in part by Lola, who chewed through my computer power cord. Thanks Lola!
Where was I? Oh yes, fixing the boat…
I forgot something when I recounted the steps needed to get from nasty rust to “nice boat!”: smoothing the fairing compound.
We (and by we I mean Peter) heaped and scraped and pushed gloopy fairing compound into the primed rust divots. Wet fairing compound is impossible to get perfectly smooth; it either is built up too low or too high. Too high means it has to be sanded off; too low means more needs to be heaped on top, left to cure, then sanded off.
I struggled with what to call this post because there are so many jokes and just one title. It could have been called My Fairing Lady
or: all’s fair in love and boating.
my life my boat isn’t fair.
If you are unclear whether I’m making jokes or writing gibberish, read on.
After Ospho comes primer in our Rust Repair Odyssey.
Primer: just like what a normal person (read: non-steel boat owner) uses under any type of paint if they’re doing the job right. We want to do the job right (caveat in this post notwithstanding) so we are applying primer.
It is a fancy-pants two-part primer formulated for metal and costs no more for a pint-sized container than does a good dinner out in Manhattan.
This is the question you might be asking. See here and here for previous references; I’m sure I have piqued your interest. (I had never asked this question before buying a steel boat simply because I had never heard of Ospho. It’s not something that comes up as a topic of conversation in the circles I run in. So…you’re welcome for broadening your horizons.)
Ospho, for those who are just dying to know, is a rust converter. It converts iron oxide into iron phosphate. At least that’s what it claims. I know that a large bottle of it came with the boat, that it smells like Death’s ass, and it turns rusty steel black.
…must own a steel boat.
If you’re a regular reader you know that I like to kvetch about the state of our boat. Reference all previous posts for shining examples.
If you’re not a regular reader let me catch you up to speed: we live aboard a steel boat that is nearly 30 years old. It wasn’t taken well taken care of for a few years. We are fixing it and, though everything that sits in the water is safe/repaired/rust free, our deck is rusty and we aren’t willing to pay someone to fix it when we can just as easily do it ourselves (read: we don’t want to spend the money).
Up to speed.