JoeBoat Alana

Another progress report.

I now have the outside of the bow transom glassed to the bottom.
After completing this, I went ahead and painted the bottom panels, on the outside, painting the below waterline portion of them dark brown, while painting the above waterline portions tan.

I then righted the hull and try fitted the seat rails.

I had to notch them to fit in over the first bottom butt joint. I did a reasonably good job, not intending that part of them to touch the bottom. I was quite happy to see that they had a relatively good fit against the bottom, considering that I cut them months before springing in the chines. For this, the lofting worked quite well. Now, they are painted and ready to go in permenantly. But this will have to wait until I have installed the mast partners and the mast step.

Before that, I had to "justify" the deck. That means plane and sand it until it ended at the sides. This took a lot of work, because the sides were not perfectly straight (new growth lumber).

After completing that task, I added almost 200 bamboo pegs, made by cutting up siskabob skewers I bought at a grocery store. These are what I call my sheer prevention pegs.

I have since glassed in the inside of the bow transom to the bottom. It came out somewhat messy, but I think it is strong. It seems that the resen was too runny, and I was constently pushing it back up hill to fill the weave of the fiberglass.

My next task is to install the mast partners and the mast step. This is a job I have been dreading, because I need a really good fit for the mast going through them. The step fastens to the bottom panel directly, so it needs accurately cut bearers to hold it to the bottom and parallel to the deck.

Attached below is a photo of the seat rails sitting in place, with the seat sitting on them in its most likely position. The mast partners are sitting on the deck at their approximate location.
Also attached is the drawing for the mast partners and mast step assembly.

Progress Report.

I have now finished installing the mast step and mast partners.

This wasn't as difficult as I had feared.

The problems were:

1.) How do I cut holes in the mast step plate and the mast partner plate that accurately fit the mast. This would seem like a simple task, as the mast is simply cut with a two-dimension taper. It should have a simple retangular shape. I should only have to get the width and length measurments at the partner region and the step region and simply cut them out on the given plates. Buit the mast section is not a perfect rectangle. No. Not even close. The saber saw, I used to cut it out with, was too small, and its blade was not stiff enough. So, instead of cuting dead vertical, It tended to follow the grain of the wood and tucked under, to cut at an angle.

2.) The mast step plate is to attach directly to the bottom sheet, by use of three bearers (I added a fourth one). Thease bearers had to match the curve of the bottom and support the mast partner plate, as to keep its top parallel to the deck.

I spent a lot of time thinking about how I was going to solve these two problems. I guess this is the lot of novice boat builders such as myself. More time is spent thinking than actually building. I had to come up with a way to use what I had, and to work around the problems I had created.

To solve the first problem, I decided to make cardboard templates for the partner plate and the step plate. First, I cladded both regions wit thin cardboard from a cereal box. This was to allow for the wood swelling if it got wet. Next I cut four strips of the same cardboard to make picture frames around the step region and the partner region. Tese four strips were taped together so the fit closely, but could slide reltively easily. I then placed these picture frame templates on the respective plates and traced the mast section shape from them onto the plates. I then crudely cut the holes with my saber saw. I also had to cut such a hole into the starboard side deck. I then used the blade from my hack saw to cut a slit from the edges of the holes to the traced line. After that, I made a sanding block that could fit in the holes and further expand them as need be. After about an hour or two of work, I was able to slip both plates onto the mast. I then lined the partner plate up with the hole in the side deck and held it there wit two sheet rock screws. I then "justified" the hole in the deck with the hole in the partner plate, so the hole had nice vertical sides. I used two layers of 0.25 inch plywood for both the partner plate and the step plate. So the hole for the partner plate was 0.75 inch deep, and the hole fore the step plate was just 0.50 inch deep.
I tipped the boat over onto its starboard side (after turning it around), I was quite pleased when the mast slid into the partner hole, but with a relatively snug fit.

Next came the dreaded mast step bearer problem. I had a choice. I could get the offsets for the step plate bearers from the lofting (which I still have). Or I could take them directly off the region of the bottom sheeting they were to attach to. Because the bottom gave me a bit of a fight going on, I assumed its local curvature in that region was not fair (I was right). So I decided on the second option. But I had never done such a task before. The first thing I did was to cut a cardboart strip that was the exact height as the timber I was using (it is 1 x 2 nom. It's supposed to be 0.75 inch by 1.50 inch. It is not). This strip was the length of the bearer plus room to add a perpendicular strip. This strip was to be the exact height of the bearer at its tallest end. I then drew five vertical station lines onto this strip. I then cut another strip and marked it with a single line which was as far from its end as the bearer was high (at its tallest end). I "C" clamped a piece of plywood that was reasonably straight to a nearby frame, to use as a referrence point. I then had a crude instrument to take the local offsets with. As I held its one leg to the bottom, keeping this stip as parallel to the referrence point as I could. I used the other strip to put a mark onto four of the five stations.Those marks would be my offsets. I then took my bearer timbers and drew station lines on them to match those on the cardboard strip. with yet another strip of cardboard, I transfered the offset marks, from the cardboard strip they were on, to the station lines on the bearer timbers themselves. I then freehand sketched the curve on the timbers and cut them to that curve (it was nowhere near fair). Next, I screwed the bearer timbers to the step plate wit two sheet rock screws each. After some sanding, I was able to get all four bearers to fit against the bottom sheeting. I then screwed this assembly to the bottom, with the screws running in from the outside. I used only two.

Then, came the dreaded test. Would the mast fit into to both holes. To my absolute delight, it did!

I ended up using 12 screws to hold the mast step assembly to the bottom. I installed them all, even though I was going to take the whole thing appart. I would need that many to insure I got a tight glue joint. These are only to be used until the glue is nearly set. They will be replaced, after the glue fully cures, with 0.25 inch pegs (which I have made from dowel stock) I will need a total of 36 of them to complete the job.

Attached below are pictures of the mast in place, with the dry fit, and with both plates finally glued into place.

Thios is the last trully structural job on this boat. The rest will be fitting it out then painting it.

Final progress report.

I have now passed my first test. Would I be able to get the hull off the project table with no outside help. I found that the hull weighs about 80 lbs by weighing it while it was on the project table.

It turned out that, yes, I was able to get it safely off the project table an onto the floor.

My next task was to make the rudder lift line (the rudder pull down line was already made). After that, I had to figure out where the home made oar locks were going to go.

I did this by sitting in the boat (which acted like a ridiculously long rocking chaire) and adjusting the seat until the boat was more or less level. Then, using a piece of pvc pipe I had laying around, I mimicked the sweep positions for a typical stroke. Once the forward facing one was found, I installed a n oar lock there.

I then considered installing one on the opposite side, for forward facing rowing. Then, I could make an identical short sweep, and use the pair as really short oars. But then I thought of trying to move the seat so I could face aft instead of forward. I found that I didn't need to move it anywhere near as far forward as I thought I would. This gave me an interesting Idea: Why not place the second oar lock aft for aft facing rowing? This is what I did.

If need be, I can always build another pair of oarlocks if the short-sweep experiment doesn't work. Or I can move one of the ones I have forward or aft.

(see attachment below)

While the boat was still on the project table, I tried out the lee board hook, which is nothing but a wooden "L" with a eye screw in it. I found that, even though it doesn't hook under the deck flange, that it holds quit firmly, but will quickly release if the lee board pivots forward or aft. This is what I was after. I am delighted.

The boat is now finished. I need only to build the short-sweep, which I have just finished designing, and it will be ready for its first outing. But I have to figure out how I am going to carry it on top of my car.

I will not be making any more posts on this thread until the boat gets its first taste of water. This may have to wait until next year.

Oops!
One more progress report. This one is the final one, I promise.

Because it started getting chilly outside sooner than I expected, I decided to put the boat away for the winter.

It now sits in my hallway, on its side (just as I planned).

See attachment.

The sails, spars, and appendages are all stowed inside, and I can still get down my hallway with reasonable ease.

While putting th boat away, I also put away the tools. But before I did that, I put them all on top of the project table and photographed them.

See 2nd attachment.

There are:
five 3 inch "C" clamps,
a pair of scissers,
a pair of pliers,
a hammer,
a 4 in 1 screwdriver,
a hand drill,
2 spline weights,
a surform plane,
a 1/2 inch chizel,
a box of nitrile gloves,
a keyhole saw,
3 home made sanding blocks,
a ruler/square,
a 12 foot tape measure,
a hack saw,
a 25 foot extension cord,
a Nikita saber saw,
a 3/8 inch reveersable drill (plug in),
a box of 1 1/2 inch sheet rock screws, and
a 36 inch stainles steel yardstick.

I also used two 2 x 4 foot project tables of my own design.

Just thought I would post the boat fully rigged for the first time.

As you can see it set up on the lawn between my house trailer and that of my neighbor.

When setting it up, I had some trouble getting the mast past the three parallel slings and then getting those past the halyard cleat. I guess every task is more difficult to do when doing it for the very first time. I also had trouble with the sail outhaul lashings coming off their pegs. This is going to have to be fixed before the boat goes in the water next weekend. The last thing I need is them coming off their pegs when the sail is fluttering. This would make the sail nearly useless.

I have had it on top of my car. Not having a roof rack, I used four boat cushions to support the upside down boat. Everything is held on top of the car with five ratchet straps, two on each end and one over the bottom of the boat to keep it from lifting. I found that roof of the car did not oil can under the weight, probably because the weight was more on the corners of the roof than the center. Also, the load is well distributed. I think the wide side decks facilitated this, as was my plan.

I took it out on the road, last weekend. There didn't seem to be any serious problems. But I am leary about taking it out on the freeway, where it will suffer hurricane like winds.

Next weekend I will post a picture of it strapped to the top of the car.

1st Voyage Report







I. Performance

With this little boat, one must learn to walk and chew gum at the same time.

I found that it was difficult to steer because there was no way for me to tell which angle the rudder was turned. I often found that it was turned hard over to the point that it's blade was flat against the transom. This is because, with this boat, I sail facing forward. The rudder is controlled by a line that attaches to a yoke arm, runs all the way up to the bow transom, crosses it, and then runs back to the other yoke arm. In order to see which way and how far the rudder is turned, I have to look over my shoulder and turn my upper body. At the time I need to do this the most, it is not practical. This is because this boat turns very quickly, much more so than I expected. So, by the time I find out where the rudder has turned, I am way off course. I found this very frustrating.




I was apparently able to make the boat go to windward without the leeboard, but this came at the expense of a lee helm. It is possible that I could have moved the seat further back to get the sail’s Center of Effort far enough back to get at least less of a lee helm and maybe even a slight weather one.

As for the leeboard itself, the hook line worked satisfactorily. I found I did not have to adjust the bow lanyard, as the hook line held it at its selected fore and aft position. It still served it purpose of preventing the leeboard from getting lost overboard. On several occasions, it did just that. It was easy for me to reach over the side and grab the line and retrieve the leeboard when it came loose. I was not able to determine the correct fore and aft position for the leeboard, because I was sailing in light winds which seemed to constantly change directions. This and the fact that I had to move it to the other side of the boat every time I changed tacks, made this all the more difficult.


The sail seemed to work OK. It never fluttered, but there was not much wind that day. How well it actually performed, I was not able to determine due to:
1.)the problem with the rudder,
2.)the constantly shifting wind, and
3.)my inability to accurately determine which direction the local wind was actually blowing

I had no problem with the sail blocking my forward view, while the boat was on a starboard tack (the mast is on the starboard side). This is because it is hoisted high enough for me to see under it, and there is no jib. I also was pleased to find that I had easy access to the halyard without badly affecting the fore and aft trim of the boat (this was one of my main design goals).

It turned out that I used the wrong sweep lock, so it ended up being turned backwards. But it still worked well enough to get me back to my starting point, despite my problems with the rudder. I’ll have to make sure I set it up right the next time.

I found that getting on board was easy, from a beach launch. The rudder tilted well clear of the bottom. And the yoke kept it from turning in that position. So, once the rudder was set up and tilted forward, it was easy to slide the boat into the water stern first. Then, I simply stepped over the bow transom and walked back far enough for the boat to float free of the beach (another major design goal).

I experienced no evidence of the boat being too tippy. Standing up in seemed to be no problem. It did heel somewhat from a brief gust, then scooted along nicely. I had no sense that the boat was about to flip.

II. Rigging



It took approximately 20 minutes to set the boat up, once it was on the beach. The most difficult part of this was stepping the mast. In order to do this, three parallel slings, and two one-point lacings must be slid up the mast past the halyard cleat. This took a little concentration but was not all that difficult. This was only the second time I had rigged the boat.

A major problem was getting the lazy jack loops to stay over their pegs at the masthead. The aft one’s loop slipped off and slid down the mast a bit.

III. Loading and Unloading

I found that getting the boat on to the car and fastened down takes about an hour. Hopefully I can shorten this down to 45 minutes. A lot of this time was standing around and figuring out what to do next. The boat cushions made a better than satisfactory stand in for roof racks. I found the car roof did not bend inward even after the six straps were tightened down. Also, it was easy to slide the boat up on top of the cushions, with the boat nearly 90 degrees to the car (something I could not do with roof racks). Care must be taken to make sure the cushions do not slide across the roof when the boat is being slid on top of them. This was done by putting a small rug on top of them, and closing the car door on a portion of this rug to hold it in place.
Once the boat is on top of the car, the four fore and aft straps must be attached to frames of the boat. Once this is done, the boat can be turned to line up with the car. I had boat pointed stern first. Once this is done, the cushions can be adjusted so each bears a portion of the boat’s weight. Then, the four fore-and-aft straps can be attached to the car and tightened. After that go the belly straps, which go across the hull. These are installed with the car doors open. Once tightened, I noticed no problem closing the car doors.

The boat is unloaded stern first. It is turned approximately 90 degrees after the straps are unfastened. The heavier stern is walked back from the car until just a small portion of the bow rests on the cushions. The stern is then set down, and I get under the boat to lift the bow. I walk it from the car by pivoting the boat clear of the car. I then set the bow on the ground. Then, I turn the boat on its side.

IV. Moving the Boat on the Ground

I found the boat too heavy and off balanced for me to carry (It weighs approximately 100 pounds, including the rig, rudder, and leeboard). I had to devise a means of moving it on the ground. The method I chose was rollers. These are 20 inch long pieces of PVC pipe that are about 2 inches in diameter. I wish I made them 30 inches long. Once the boat is on one roller, it is relatively easy to move it in a straight line. Turning it becomes a bit of a problem. Perhaps I will get better at this with experience.

It takes about as long to unstrap and unload the boat as it does to load and strap it on, about an hour each. Moving it and setting it up can take another half hour. So this particular trip took about an entire day. During this period, I got only about two hours of sailing time. Part of this is because I met with my sister and her husband who wanted to see the first voyage (they are from out of state). To do this, I ended up having to do this test sail almost 50 miles from where I live. Because I didn’t dare use the expressway, it took me about an hour to get there. I also had to report to work for my shift after all this was over.

V. Small changes considered

The first minor change I would like to make is to put a “tiller dot” on the steering line, on its mid-length where it crosses the bow transom. Then, I would know how far over the rudder has been turned, and in which direction. This would cut down my frustration level considerably.

Next, I want to set up a small flag at the bow, so I have a better idea of which way the wind is actually blowing. I might even put a narrow strip of shopping bag just below the flag, to detect lesser winds.

Finally, I'm going to sieze the foreward and aft lazy jacks together, so they will stay on top of their pegs better. I considered making the pegs longer, but am afraid of them being too vulnerable to breaking.

These three small changes alone would likely go a long way towards improving my sailing performance (along with more practice). Only then will I get a fairer assessment of the boat's performance capabilities

VI. Big Changes Considered

I am considering cutting the leeboard flange off and rounding the top corners to put an axle trough the leeboard and the boats starboard side, so it can be more like a centerboard. This axle could be nothing more than a long, quarter inch bolt. This bolt would pass through a reinforcement added to the leeboard, the leeboard, the hull side, and a reinforcement added to the hull. It will then have to extend about 1 inch past that. This is so the wing-nut, which holds it on from the inside, will have plenty of room to loosen before it comes off. The plan will be to remove this leeboard when the boat is moved on land. This way, I'll have a choice of which side to tip the boat onto. Otherwise, I will be stuck with just the port side.

I am also considering making a cart, so I can move the boat more easily on land. The first thought is a two-wheel chassis, which the boat can be strapped to while on its side. This would put a side deck flange within easy reach to grab onto to pull the boat. This would enable me to move the boat a considerable distance over land when it's off the car. This cart would have 20 inch bicycle wheels.

Another approach would be to make a single 20 inch bicycle wheel dolly, which would attach to the pintles This would take up less space, but would require two hands to balance the boat on top of it, with the boat upside down. This would require me to walk backwards when moving the boat.

VII. General Assessments

I was able to store the boat in my trailer and move it out to my car and place it on top, with no outside help (First major design requirement)

The rig, the rudder, the rudder yoke and the seat were able to be housed inside the boat, even while it was on the road (Second major design requirement). The leeboard and the single sweep could not safely ride there (a disappointment).

Despite its unusual design, the sail seemed to work OK. This unusual design made it possible for me to reach the halyard without upsetting the fore and aft trim of the boat (third design requirement).

I was able to step onto the boat over the bow transom without getting my feet wet (a design bonus)

The short-sweep worked satisfactorily despite not being set up quite right (a forth design requirement). This spares me from needing a pair of longer oars, or having the awkwardness of having to use a paddle.

But because of the difficulties in using the rudder, and the light ever changing winds, I was not able to accurately assess the sailing performance.

All in all, I'll call this boat a very qualified success. I will need much more time to get to know it.

Sharpii2 why not use a simple tiller arm with a hiking stick attached in the conventional manner? You will then have the "feel" of the rudder as well as positive control of steering.

I suggest using two leeboards, one on each side, so that you will not need to transfer the single board. That'll be a much safer way to go when in crowded water or in tricky winds. You can attach the boards, in the Bolger fashion, with a short piece of rope. You can ignore the weather board and it will merely trail along harmlessly while the lee ward board does its job.. There are times when it gets really busy while sailing a small boat. The fewer parts you must attend to, should be a primary aim.

Minor Changes Made

Upon further examination, I discovered that the rudder tipped up a good deal when I tried to steer it. I discovered this with the boat out of the water and on its side. As you can see, there are two lines that control the fore and aft tilt of the rudder. These are between the two ends of the steering line. The top one tilts the rudder up. The bottom one tilts it down. This one is not attached to the rudder plate, but passes through it from the inside, then goes accross it to pass through it again to end at the shock cord. This way, the rudder is protected from bottom strikes, but is still easy to tilt up. The inside ends of both lines have knots in them, which are trapped between two dowels, to hold the rudder in its "up" or "down" tilt. For one to be used, the other must be released.



I found that the hold down shock cord did not have enough tension on it. To put more tension on it, I shortened it by about six inches. This seems to have helped a lot.

Next, I installed the "tiller dot".



As you can see, it is on the tiller line, where it crosses the bow transom. Whichever side of the transom it appears on is on the same side of the boat a standard tiller end would be on. If it appears on the lee side of the transom, that indicates a lee helm. If it appears all the way at the windward side or leeward side of the bow transom, that indicates that the rudder is hard over.

The next change I made was to make a wind direction indicator. Usually, these are placed on top of the mast. But the mast on my boat is so close to me that I would have to really strain to look upward to see it. So, I decided to mount it on the bow instead. This way, I can keep it in view while I watch where I'm going. Assuming that the wind, going up over the hull, does not mess with it, it is in a very convenient location.

It is made out of some scraps from the build along with some 5/16 inch dowel I had left over. It is not permanently mounted to the deck. It gets removed when the boat gets put away or loaded on top of the car. It also comes apart, so the dowel gets separated from its base. Then its less likely to get damaged when I put it in the kit bag. Its flag is nothing but a strip of shopping bag. The dowel goes through a hole in the deck, after passing through the base, to hold it in place.



Finally, I fixed the problem with the lazy jacks by siezing them together (no picture). This seems to have helped a lot in keeping them looped over their short pegs at the masthead.

As for replacing the steering lines with a tiller, I have decided not to do that. The main reason for this is that this boat was designed to be sailed with the sailor facing forward. A conventional tiller would need to not only be much longer than usual, but would have to be offset a great deal as to not be blocked by the sailor. If I ever do decide to abandon the steering lines, I will make a push-pull stick which will attach to one of the arms of the rudder yoke. This in effect will be an over grown tiller stick, with the actual tiller pointing sideways instead of fore and aft. If I do that, I will probably make the stick out of 1 inch pvc pipe. It is lighter than a wooden one would be, stiff enough to do the job, but flexible enough to avoid breaking.

As for the leeboard situation, I have decided to stick with the system I have now, at least until I figure out where the best fore-and-aft placement for the leeboard is. One reason for this is pure stubborness on my part. The other is that this boat can switch from wind propulsion to muscle propulsion very quickely. In crowded situations, I will simply use the latter. This is not a racing dinghy. So quick maneuvering under sail is not a big requirement.

But if I do choose to change my evil ways, I will go with a single, fore-and-aft pivoting leeboard, rather than having to build (and stowe, and transport) a second one. I have realized that I can use the one I already have by simply installing it with the top flange facing outward. I'd need a handle to tilt it down and up anyway. And the flange, which extends past the vertical edges, could serve as such a handle.

This is it for now. I will post again after my next sail.

Second Voyage

Absolute failure.

I launched at a local metro park. And this was on the Lake St. Claire shoreline.

A very light onshore breeze was blowing, diagonally in relation to the shore, and there was maybe a one foot swell running. I wanted to launch from the beach, but was not aware of any beaches in the boat launch area of the park. So I had to use a boat ramp. I got the boat off the car but had so,e trouble setting it up. Almost a year has past since the last time I did this. After about half an hour, I was ready to go into the water. I had left the fore and aft hold down straps on the boat, where I have decided they are going to live from now on. It's just too much trouble fastening them to the boat once it's on the car. I'm glad I left them on, as they proved useful as makeshift dock lines. Because I was launching from concrete and into tiny breakers, I decided to pull the boat into the water from the dock and then board. That itself almost turned into a misadventure, as I nearly fell in the water twice. After some excitement on board (and likely entertainment on shore), I finally got underway.

The boat seemed to sail OK, as I cleared the dock sailing upwind on a port tack. But trouble started almost immediately after that. One of the turning blocks for my steering line, up in the bow, suddenly came unlashed. Now, I had very poor rudder control, so I had to fix it. I was afraid of going too far forward, as to risk shipping water over the bow transom. But I sprawled out on the bottom to keep my center of gravity as far aft as I could. I quickly re lashed the turning block in place. But, by then, I was getting close to the break wall. I fended off and soon got back underway.

I decided to sail as far upwind as I could, so I would be sure to be able to make it back.

That is when the real trouble started. With a running swell, I found it next to impossible to keep the leeboard in place. It kept kiting away from the hull and getting un hooked from the deck. The lanyard, I had attached to it, kept it from getting lost overboard. I ended up endlessly fishing it out of the water and setting it back up. So, now I was making zero progress upwind.

In addition to the problem with the leeboard, I was also having one with the rudder. The shock cord that was supposed to hold the hinged rudder plate, the rudder was attached to, against the real transom, kept stretching. So, when I pulled on the control line, the rudder tilted back instead of turning. So, now my rudder position dot, on my control line, was not accurate. And, when I turned the rudder, it tilted further aft.


I should have recognized right then that I was in trouble.

On top of that, a powerboat pulled up along side and complimented me on the boat. He even said it looked pretty! Then, he offered me a tow. I said I was OK and thanked him for the offer. He pulled away and went off. Rejecting this tow offer was the biggest mistake I made that evening. Maybe it was because I spent an hour getting the boat out of my trailer onto the car, another half hour getting it off the car, and another half hour setting it up. So, with this much time invested into this trip, I was loath to quit so soon. Also, the breeze was getting stronger, creating damn near ideal sailing conditions.

So, I continued on with the naive belief that I would soon figure out a way to make this work.

By this time it was about 19:30. And the park closes at 23:00. So this gave me about three hours to figure things out. But it turned out that I could only get this thing to sail upwind on a port tack. I found it nearly impossible to get the boat to sail at all on a starboard one. Each time the leeboard kited away from the hull, the boat quickly turned downwind. Often, when I fished the leeboard out of the water, I had to let go of either the sheet line or the steering line. Which ever one I let go of, the result was always the same. I lost whatever windward progress I made, and then some. If I had three hands, I may have been able get this thing to work. But with just two hands, I was helpless.

The first thing I tried was to change my body position so I was facing aft. This way, I could at least keep track of the rudder position. I thought that then I would be more able to keep the boat on course regardless of the leeboard trouble. But I still had the need of a third hand. By this time it was about 21:00. I hate to admit it, but I was starting to panic. This was because the shoreline of Lake St. Claire is guarded by a steel break-wall that is five to six feet high. So, other than the metro park, there was no place to come ashore. I had to get at least back to the park. By about 21:30, I gave up on the leeboard. I pulled it out of the water and stuffed it up in the bow out of my way. I then resolved to try to sail upwind without it. A Siren 17 I once owned accomplished this feet, so I figured that this boat, with its vertical sides and deep chines, should be able to do this, too.

I was wrong. The single sail on this boat was simply too far forward. Also, the other boat (the Siren 17) had its rudder blade in the up position, which, although horizontal, was still in the water. On top of that, it was a 3\4 sloop, and it accomplished this feet with the jib still in its sail bag, below. With this boat, the rudder blade comes out of the water when raised. When in the water, the boat tends to pivot around it near its leading edge. This means coming about is impossible. So I tried changing tacks by wearing ship. The sail design I have on this boat allows doing this with surprisingly little drama. I took advantage of this fact and was able to change tacks. I conned myself int to believing I was now making windward progress. But I had a lee helm. This meant that what little windward gains I might have made due to the chines was being erased by the much more effective rudder. I may have been pointed upwind slightly, but I was actually being driven steadily downwind. By about 22:00, I realized this.

By then, it was starting to get dark. I decided to lower the sail and try to use the short-sweep to get back in (it had worked during last year's outing). But, then there was only a slight, variable breeze blowing. Now, I had about a 10 mph north easterly wind, which was not only consistent, but was raising about a two-foot swell also. Without the leeboard, neither the short sweep, nor paddling seemed to work. This is because the rudder would not stay centered and the boat simply pivoted rather than move forward. On top of that, The windage of the mast and rigging up forward, made the boat want to weather-cock downwind. It was at this time that I noticed a possible breach in the fortress-like break-wall. I saw what looked like dry land in front of a more modest break-wall made of piled up pieces of broken concrete.

I decided that now was the time to throw in the towel. This could easily be my last opportunity to come ashore. So I steered for it. The boat came to a halt somewhat before reaching it. So I raised the rudder and paddled and pushed with my sweep and got nowhere. I got out of the boat and found myself in muck up to my knees. I soon discover that, what looked like dry land, was really just thicker, firmer muck. I continued on. Soon, I was only sinking in up to my ankles, even while dragging the boat behind me. I found myself facing a person's back yard. That person watched me as I systematically unloaded the boat and set everything on top of the break-wall. But he quickly disappeared. Surprisingly, I managed to get the boat over the break-wall, across his patio, and across his lawn while not leaving a mark. I had three, two inch pieces of PVC pipe which I used as rollers to get the boat (with all of its gear now back on board) across his patio and down his driveway to the street. I rolled the boat out onto the street and found some bushes along side of it. I tipped the boat onto its side and started what I thought was going to be a long walk back to my car. It was then a deputy pulled up with a squad car and asked me what the hell I was doing. I told him my sad story, and he graciously offered me a ride back to my car. It was about 01:30 when I finally drove away with my boat on top of my car. I have to admit, it was looking a whole lot like fire-wood at this point.

I have decided that the single, shifting leeboard idea does not work, at least for this boat. I need the damned thing to stay put. So, now its about to become an external dagger board.* It will be held in place by two, wooden staples, made of 1 x 2 stock. There will be an upper one and a lower one. They will be held to the hull with four, quarter-inch bolts. So no more shifting the 'board from side to side.



I have thought about eliminating the leeboard (now dagger) board entirely. This would call (by my estimation) for moving the mast about 22 inches further aft. The reason for this is to account for the vastly more effective lateral area of the rudder compared to that of the bare hull. This supposedly would set up a weather helm, so the rudder would end up pulling the boat to windward rather than down wind. But this would require making a new mast as well creating a new mast step. And even then, I am by no means sure it would work. For once, I will stay with tradition, as it will require the least alteration of the boat.



The bungee-cord for the rudder plate is also going bye, bye. It is being replaced with a 1\4 inch, nylon line. It has enough stretch to absorb the shock load of an accidental grounding but will not allow the rudder to cock up to get over the obstacle like it would of with the bungee cord. But at this point, I'd rather have a rudder that more or less stayed down. I also want this rudder to automatically self-center once I let go of the control line. For this, I designed a self-centering harness. It is nothing but a line that attached to one end of the steering yoke arm, had a loop in the middle, then attached to the other. A single bungee cord attaches to this loop to act as a spring. It has another line at its other end which connects to the forward end of the aft deck near its center line. This will not only pull the rudder back to center, once I let go of the control line, but will limit how far the rudder can be turned. Both of which will make it much easier to steer the boat more accurately.



I have resolved not to sail on Lake St. Claire again. At least not until I have proven the boat works quite well. I will drive much further to a smaller lake until then.

* I didn't go with a pivoting board (an external centerboard) because making it would require me to drill an absolutely straight hole through 2.25 inches of various layers of material. I don't have a drill press and probably could not accomplish this feat if my life depended on it. Also, the board would have to be significantly re-enforced. If the hole was not absolutely straight, the ex-centerboard would bind when pivoted. Plus the local hull would have to be locally re-enforced, as all the load would be on just one very small area (requiring an even deeper hole). So, due to my lack of skill, I went with the ex-dagger-board. two"staples are used because the 'board is not strong enough to make due with just one.

If it is of any interest to you, Slieve McGalliard is designing junk sails with a sort of a pseudo jib in front of the mast a little similar to the sail you designed. The Junk Rig Association - Slieve McGalliard https://junkrigassociation.org/slieve

The Fix is In

Now that I have had a few weeks to think about the failures of the second voyage, I have decided to stick with my decision to turn the shifting lee board into an external dagger board. There are three reasons for this:
1.) To keep the original intent of this design as intact as possible. The boat can still live on its port side when stored in my house trailer.
2.)To require absolute minimum changes to the hull
3.) And above all, to make this design at least somewhat more user friendly.

Beyond this, this double staple design is quite simple and easier to make than my other options. This required addition of another 1 x 2, four bolts, four nuts, and eight washers (see drawing in previous post).

Even so I think the former shifting lee board needs some local re-enforcing before standing in as an external dagger board.




Since one of the design goals was to make this entire boat out of just three sheets of plywood, I didn't want to add another layer of 1/4 inch plywood to the entire board. So I decided to re-enforce it only locally to take the loads of a starboard tack which would put greater loads on it than a port tack. As you can see, the added thickness is in the way of the lower staple, but it extends past the bottom of the boat to help on a port tack, too. What I ended up doing is somewhat different in that I I decided to stagger the pieces so that there would not be a clear bending line at the end of the re-enforcement patch. These pieces came from scrap from the original three sheets, so no new plywood had to be added. If I ever decide to try to sell plans for this boat, this will be the standard design. It is simple and very likely to work. The next voyage will tell.

Now that this has been decided, I have given some speculation on why my shifting lee board design failed so spectacularly and what new conditions would be needed to make it work. I think one of the major reasons it failed was that the boat has very poor directional stability. It tends to want to turn quickly. I supposed the log canoes which used this idea ( where I got this idea from) did not have nearly as much rocker as my boat. They probably turned much slower, so there was plenty of time to shift the lee board to the other side before the boat got too far off course. My boat could be modified to give it more of that quality.



This would be done by adding a long, shallow "Stub Keel" which would be as long as the upright waterline. I call it a stub keel because I think it lacks sufficient area to act as a leeway preventor itself. What it would do is help the boat resist turning so quickly. It would also reduce the amount of lee helm when the lee board was not in place. Another problem was that the lee board tended to float up. I originally thought the pressure of it pushing against the hull would keep it immersed. But this pressure would have to be consistent. It turned out that it rarely was. I imagine lee boards on Dutch and other European work boats are ballasted enough to make them sink.



Here, I have calculated how much concrete I would need to sink the blade of the lee board to keep it down. I didn't want to have to go to the expense of buying lead shot, or the trouble of smelting lead. Concrete being much less dense than lead means that the ballast slug would need to be that much bigger. The one drawn will weigh roughly three pounds. This would be on top of the roughly two and a half pounds the lee board weighs already. This, by the way, is not enough to send the lee board to the bottom if it should get detached from the boat, but more than enough to sink the portion of it that is supposed to be immersed. This should not be too much of a burden, but the weight being concentrated so low would make shifting it over to the other side that much more awkward.

It could be argued that I could just make the long keel a few inches deeper and not need a lee board at all. But this would make the boat take up too much space while being stored inside (park rules forbid me from storing it outside). I could also leave it as drawn and move the mast further aft and have a somewhat less extreme boardless set up as I drew in my previous post. I suppose both of these ideas could work, but I am not in the mood to try any more such experiments. I want a boat that I can be pretty sure is going to work. At some future time I may make a new mast and a new mast step to try the boardless idea.

C. Dog said:

If it is of any interest to you, Slieve McGalliard is designing junk sails with a sort of a pseudo jib in front of the mast a little similar to the sail you designed. The Junk Rig Association - Slieve McGalliard https://junkrigassociation.org/slieve

Click to expand...

Thanks, C. Dog. I read most of the articles. I think 35% of sail area in front of the mast is too much. The problem is that when the sail starts to generate lift, its effective Center of Effort (CE) moves forward. I Always keep in mind the 3/8 ths rule. This is a rule-of-thumb regarding flat plates when they develop lift, meaning that the effective CE moves forward about one eighth the average length of the plate. How accurate this rule-of-thmb is, especially with a curved plate, is open to question. It could well be an over-estimation or it could be an underestimation. If it is an underestimation, the sail will refuse to point sufficiently into the wind. For my purposes I go with no more than 1/3 rd before the mast. My rig, as drawn is more like 1/4 th before the mast. This is so the halyard doesn't have to be so far aft on the yard.

Third and Fourth Voyages


It was like sailing a different boat.

This time, I chose a small lake as my sailing venue. It was on Lake Lancelot, a man-made lake in the resort community of Sugar Springs that is about ten miles from Gladwin, Michigan. The lake is surrounded by trees and bluffs and is sub-divided by about half a dozen coves. The main lake is about a mile long and maybe three quarters of a mile wide at its widest point. Because of this layout and typography, the wind is rarely consistent in force or direction. This being the case, there should have been absolute chaos on board. During the second voyage, this same boat could not even handle a consistent breeze at nearly an ideal strength of 8 to 10 knots.

But this time; the rudder turned when I pulled on the steering lines instead of tipping aft at its bottom, it self-centered when I let go of the steering line, and the dagger board (the former lee board) stayed put.
Now, I was able to concentrate more on what was going on around me. There is an island near one end of the lake. And I decided to head there. The winds were light and fluky, with no consistent direction. The boat sailed never the less toward the island. I had to change tacks several times as the breeze suddenly changed directions. It was then the boat accomplished a feat it had never done before. It sailed on a starboard tack.

The breeze freshened. Then I started having trouble with the sail. The string-loops, that held the clews and the tacks kept coming off their pegs. The sail still worked, as it was held to its spars with dozens of individual loops of twine, but I kept re-securing these tack and clew loops. It was like playing whack-a-mole. Besides, it was getting late in the afternoon, and my hostess was expecting me for dinner. So, I turned back and had a pretty much downwind ride back home. I found that the short-sweep was nowhere near as effective as a pair of proper oars would be. And it didn't work unless the dagger board was down. But it was long enough to make a handy stand-up paddle. I found I could stand up in the boat with little fear of it capsizing, as my feet were actually below the waterline. I had no trouble beaching the boat at the exact spot I launched from. I was also able to step on land without getting my feet wet. Thus ended my third voyage.

That evening, after dinner, I took the rig down. I brought the sail and its spars into the garage. I untied the clew and tack loops and re-tied them through holes at the very ends of the spars. No more whack-a-mole next time. By the time I had finished, the sun had gone down. I carried the sail back down to the boat and decided to re-rig it with only moonlight to see with. I was able to get the job done despite the trouble I had doing it in broad daylight that afternoon. I found there was a definite step by step procedure. If followed correctly, it was relatively easy to get the but end of the mast past the three parallel-slings and the two luff-strings and have everything end up on the correct side. I was able to quickly tie in the lazy-jacks after raising only the first of two panels of the sail. Once they were tied, I lowered that top panel. The whole sail now rested neatly within the lazy-jacks. The boat was ready for its next outing.

The next afternoon, I was out again. I used the short-sweep as a stand-up paddle to get far enough out to lower the rudder and insert the dagger board. I was then able to get the short-sweep to work to get me out of the tree-choked cove. Once I got the sail up, I saw it formed a 3D shape that was very similar to an airfoil. I was pleased. I then headed back out to the island with the determination to circle around it and head back. This was all I had time for, as I had to put the boat away and head for home, a three and a half hour drive, before going to work that evening. This was when the short-sweep showed its value. Since I didn't have time to chase the wind around the lake, a little "motor-sailing" was called for. Besides, on that lake, in all but the strongest winds, the wind comes and goes and frequently changes directions. This often leaves dead patches of water that can be several dozen yards across. One can go batty with wind in sight but not moving ones boat. The short-sweep was quick and easy to deploy. It made short work of powering through those dead patches. And I was able to get to the island with fewer tacks. There was a boat anchored in my path, and it had swimmer around it. I was easily able to avoid hitting them, as I sail facing forward and could keep a constant eye on them.

As I got closer to the island, the breeze freshened into what could be called a wind. I even considered moving my body more to the windward side of the boat (I designed it to sail at a constant heel). Then, it suddenly quit. Back to the short-sweep again. But only for a few minutes. When I got to the far side of the island, the wind came back. Then it quit again. Then it was back. All the while, I continued my forward progress thanks to the short-sweep. Once headed home, I found myself mostly on a port tack. The boat seems to prefer this over a starboard one. A major possible reason for this is that the camber in the dagger board was cut to be asymmetrical, as it was originally intended to be a lee board. I have thought of pulling it up and flipping it over for a starboard tack. But I put my re-enforcement patch too low for this to be a good idea (its top flange would ride on the upper staple rather than the edge of the deck). Besides, it works adequately on a starboard tack. Just not as well.

The boat scooted along for a while. It was clearly the fastest sailboat on the lake. (It was the only sailboat on the lake). Since the boat leaves next to no wake, and I don't know how to use GPS on my smart-phone to determine my speed, I have no idea of how fast I was really going. Maybe 3 or 4 knots. Maybe a little faster. This only lasted a few minutes. I found that coming about requires a quick, vigorous tug on the steering line, as the deep rocker, flat bottom causes the boat to lose way rather quickly.

Once I got back to the cove, I found the wind blocking my path. I had to come about several times to get past it. Once ashore, I went about taking down the rig and moving the boat where it was to be stored until my next outing, sometime next month. After that, I must dismantle it again to car-top it home, using only the highway system, a four and a half hour trip.

Over all, I think the three fixes I have done: removed the shock cord from the rudder pull-down line, made a self-centering harness for the rudder, and turned the shifting lee board into a dagger board, have worked out quite well. I now have a real sailboat that is pretty much as I intended it to be. It is a good small lake sailboat that is relatively easy to sail, easy to rig (once you master the procedure), and easy to store. It was also built by a relatively unskilled builder with a relatively modest collection of tools.

I look forward to its fifth and final voyage for this year.

Fifth Voyage
(Capsize and recovery)


On Saturday, October 5th, I capsized the boat for the very first time. This happened on the same small lakes as the two previous outings. It was not intentional. I was trying to short tack out of a relatively narrow cove that was perhaps 30 yards across. The wind strengthened suddenly as I was trying to come about. Just when this happened, the lashing that held the inner sheet-block to the lower boomlet parted. This distracted me long enough for the capsize to occur.

All I remember is seeing the side deck nearly perpendicular to the water The next thing I knew, I was submerged looking up at the cockpit. I wriggled my way out from under the boat, then spat and snorted out the mouth full of water I inhaled in the middle of shouting a profanity.

I then went to work trying to right the boat. I did this at least two times, managing to pull it upright only for it to capsize again as I tried to pull myself back on board. After these at least two attempts, I realized that I needed to lower the sail. After doing this, I was able to pull myself on board over the bow transom. The forward side-decks submerged alarmingly when I did this. But, with the sail down and me aboard, the boat did not capsize again.

Unfortunately, the kit-bag, which had, among other things, my bailing scoop, had left the boat.

With me aboard and sitting up, the decks were about two inches above the water. Some but not all of the tiny waves, caused by the freshening wind, slopped aboard. If I had had the bailing scoop, I know I would have had to work fast and furiously to get the water out faster than it slopped in.

I saw the bag about maybe ten to twelve yards away, floating just beneath the surface. I shipped the short-sweep and tried to go after it. I found the nearly filled boat to be hard to get moving and even harder to control. I was not able to get the bag. Some helpful soul on a pontoon boat was already fishing out floating contends of the bag and finally the bag itself. It was empty. The bailing scoop is likely at the bottom of the lake.

Unable to bail out the boat or get the bag, I turned the boat around and headed for a small stretch of beach that was less the ten yards away. A helpful onlooker on the beach helped me beach the swamped boat. I bailed the boat with a borrowed child's beach-bucket.

The kind pontoon boater offered to tow me home. I thought of turning him down. The boat, now bailed out, was in fine condition to sail back. But the wind was rising, and I was starting to shiver. And the trip back would be mostly upwind. I graciously accepted.

So ended this sailing season.

Would Haves and Could Haves

I should have reefed the sail as soon as I saw evidence of freshening wind. I have to remind myself that I am sailing a light, non-ballasted dinghy. At best, the angle of vanishing stability is at 45 degrees of heel, maybe less. Upon recent calculations, I found the Vertical Center of Gravity (VCG) is about 4 inches above the deck. This is with me sitting up. But, while sitting up, I lean away from the low side. Maybe this buys me a few more degrees. But even if so, the vanishing stability is long before 90 degrees of heel. The sail is designed to be easy to reef. All I have to do is relieve the halyard until the upper boomlet rests on top of the lower one. Then, I can cleat the upper boomlet to the lower boomlet, then pull the halyard until the lower boom no longer rests on the lazy-jacks. But, failing that, I can just leave it resting on the lazy-jacks. The lazy-jacks will effectively flatten the sail. This reefing will reduce the sail area by about half.

I could have released the sheet-line as soon as I saw the inner sheet-block part company with the boomlet. This failure was plenty of evidence of an increasing wind.

The kit-bag should have been attached to the boat with a lanyard. I am thinking about one that is about one yard long that is arranged so that it pulls the bag (a reusable grocery bag) closed when it is tensioned.

I should have lowered the sail before trying to get back on board. This boat is equipped with twelve milk jugs to act as self-rescue flotation. This gives me about 48 pounds of buoyancy per side. The sail, including yard and boomlets, is about 9 ft tall. It weighs about 8 or 9 lbs. It, in turn, is hoisted about 2.5 ft above the waterline on a 2 pound, 9.5 ft mast. Its VCG is likely about 5 to 6 ft above the waterline, less on a port tack, more on a starboard tack. This gives it a vertical moment of about 63 foot pounds. So, it doesn't take much of a heel angle to reach the point of vanishing stability when the boat is swamped. With the sail lowered, this rig VCG is cut to about half.

Suggested Capsize Recovery Method

1.) Right the boat. This can be done by using the dagger board as a lever, using the dagger board staples, or using the rudder hold-down line. Just keep in mind that you are pulling the boat on top of you, so it is best to across the bottom of the boat when trying. This is relatively easy to do, as there very little flotation on one side to work against. This was part of the design philosophy. If you are across the bottom of boat when righting, the boat will likely stay upright after it is righted.

2.) Lower the sail. This lowers the Center of gravity of the boat, making it far less tippy once righted. And the wind will have less effect on it.

3.) Try to maneuver the boat so that the mast is on the downwind side. This will tend to make the upwind side of the boat, where the waves typically come from, higher. Doing such will cause the boat to drift sideways better.

4.) Pull yourself over the bow transom by pushing it down under you in the process. This will insure the boat does not capsize again. Its range of stability is far less when it is swamped than it normally is.

5.) Once on board, move to the back of the boat and then sit up in it, facing the bow, as if it were a bath tub. This means sitting on the very bottom of the boat, not the seat. Doing this will use your weight to help stabilize the boat and allow it to float as high as possible. The bow will float higher than the stern. But there is 2.5 feet of stern deck that any water, that slops aboard, will have to cross.

6.) Get the bailing scoop out and bail as fast as you can. It will likely take somewhere between fifteen minutes and half an hour to accomplish this, depending on how fast you can work and the water conditions you are in.

________________
If the water cannot be bailed out, it is best to stay with the boat. This is for three reasons:

One, the boat is a lot easier for would-be rescuers to spot. They are far more likely to see the boat than just you.

Two,The boat can be moved with the short-sweep, even when full of water. Also, the boat can be steered downwind, even with the sail down. On a small, inland lake, this will get you ashore faster than swimming.

Three, your body heat will warm up the nearly ¾ ton of water inside the boat. This water will then act as a buffer against the colder water outside.
________________

Next sailing season, I will practice capsize recovery to determine how long it takes, or if it is even possible. I'll try to do this when there is plenty of powerboat bobble around to get a more accurate assessment of my self rescue capability

I may need to add more flotation. I am considering lashing a swimming pool noodle to each seat rail as a start. This will add about ten to twenty pounds of flotation to each side. Failing that, I am considering replacing the 12 milk jugs with foam inserts which will be made of insulating foam. This will increase the flotation by about 50%.

It has occurred to me that the boat acts like a huge bowl holding some water in that would otherwise drain out. I have though of drilling one drainage hole in the side of the boat that is two to three inches below the side deck. This would be located at mid length on the port side. The diameter of the hole would be less than an inch. This hole could easily be plugged. Maybe this will buy me another half inch of swamped free board and also about 75 lbs of water I won't have to bail out.

Many racing dinghies have low sides for their beam and enough flotation so that they come up nearly empty when righted. This, in my opinion, is not so much about safety as it is about getting back in the race quickly. But getting back on board requires a certain amount of strength and agility that not all people have.

My “wet recovery” design strategy requires less strength and agility to get back on board, but a lengthy period of bailing afterward. I see two virtues to this: One, (as originally intended) it is easier to right the boat and get back on board. Two, it discourages one from getting into situations where a capsize is more likely.

Whether this design strategy is actually safer remains to be proven. The big disadvantage is not only the lengthy period of bailing afterward, but also the risk that such bailing may not be possible in some conditions.

I realize now that there is a balance to be found. And that is between ease of righting and getting back aboard and the time it takes to bail the boat afterward. Less of one means more of the other.