I am a dumbass

“Don’t get to being in a hurry.
-Jack Baker

I heard my old man’s voice in my head right after I heard the CRUNCHPOP sound as Serenity fell to the floor of my garage. Despite all our disagreements, I think he’s probably right on this piece of advice. Being in a hurry makes one sloppy, and sloppy breeds chances for failures. Today I was in a hurry, and it bit me in the ass.

The story:
It was a beautiful day, and I was very excited to take my boat out for the first sail of the season. I had just finished my rudder:

All bolted together, stained, urethaned, ready to sail!

All bolted together, stained, urethaned, ready to sail!

All that needed to be done was to transfer the boat from the sawhorses to the trailer. Piece of cake! I’ve done this a dozen times now. A perfect day for sailing, a steady 15 knot wind was calling me. I set about hoisting Serenity the same way I’d done it before… (Well, mostly the same, I was trying to save time and get out to the lake!) So instead of harnessing the bow and stern and hoisting, I only did the bow, figuring the sawhorse it was on would hold it fine. This is what we’d call A Very Bad Idea.

Additionally, there was an old fluorescent light fixture that was resting under Serenity, waiting to be recycled in the Citywide Cleanup. I saw the conduit sticking straight up under her like a punji stake, and thought “That looks like it could be a problem.” But it was such a nice day, who has time to move around all the junk in their garage before heading out for a beautiful day of sailing? Not me! This was another Very Bad Idea.

The saw horse did not hold the stern, and the rear of the craft careened to the floor with a sickening POP. I didn’t even want to look, because I knew that sound meant the hull was likely punctured. I looked. It was.

Right about now is when I almost started crying.

Right about now is when I almost started crying.

After some very, very, loud four letter words, I managed to get her onto the trailer and surveyed the damage. Poor girl looked like she’d been shot.

I NEED AN OCCLUSIVE BANDAGE! STAT!!!

I NEED AN OCCLUSIVE BANDAGE! STAT!!!

I was definitely not going to be taking advantage of this very nice, perfect sailing day. On top of that, I’d put a hole in a boat I planned to take on an 80 mile cruise down the Mississippi. Many unpleasant feelings were happening all around me.

Once I’d calmed down, I went about figuring out how to fix it. The general idea when patching a hole in a fiberglass boat is you grind out the area, then layer incrementally larger patches of fiberglass, one over the other until it’s back to the original thickness. I could do that! But I’d need a grinder. There was no way in hell I was gonna try to do that with my sander… After a quick trip to Harbor Freight, I’d picked up a grinder with some 36 grit flap pads. I’ve had my eye on a grinder for a while but couldn’t justify it until now, so yay?

I read to triple the size of the hole to figure out how wide an area to grind out. So I did that.

Circle drawn to grind out.

Circle drawn to grind out.

Inside, post grinding.

Inside, post grinding.

Then, to keep fiberglass from sagging after being wet out, I put a temporary backing of a sandwich bag taped in place to the bottom of the hull. Not pretty, but it seems to have worked.

IMG_0706

Next, making concentric patches, starting with the smallest, and working up until it matches the ground out area.

The first of many patches.

The first of many patches.

Wetting the fiberglass out with epoxy.

Penny for scale.

Penny for scale.

I need to find a way to measure out epoxy/hardener in MUCH smaller batches since I currently get about 3 oz. per batch, and I really need about 1 oz. batches. Since I made up a HUGE amount, I decided to try out my silica thickener and fill in the hole in Benoit. It’s ugly, and will need a lot of sanding, but it seems to have filled the void on her.

Should have taken a "before" shot...

Should have taken a “before” shot…

And that’s where I left off. One layer of fiberglass in, with probably a half dozen or so to go. The moral of this story? Dad was probably right. Take your time and secure your gear, even if it’s a nice day and you really just want to get out sailing.