The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

This is purely archival, do not feel obliged to read it.

I am at the boatyard at 8:30 and immediately start to paint.

This is the first real topcoat – just Toplac and thinners. So here is the deal; this paint is very high maintenance.  To achieve a smooth coat, the paint has to be in a good mood.  Toplac likes thinners, but not too much and, you guessed it, not too little.

Heat makes the thinners evaporate very quickly and so, in the high temperature environment in which I work, the paint is constantly changing mood. One moment he/she is smiling and cooperative and then suddenly, he/she is stiff and difficult. I crave low temperature.

I paint the topside for the 4th time.

Tabata san and Kiyuna san foregather to discuss how we can find a high cradle to allow center plate fun.

I would be lost without them.

One of the landmarks, certainly from the sea, of Okinawa are two huge towers/pylons, whose function has always remained secret. So that no one finds out, they are being dismantled.

View from back of boat.

Anyway by 11:30 there is no point carrying on. The paint is unmanageable and I am dizzy from heat exposure.

The message here is, do not paint your boat in high heat. 

Regrettably, it will only get hotter over the next 6 months so I will just have to tough it out if I want to get the boat in the water this year.

The boat thing is actually a finely tuned project management exercise. One thing has to be completed before another can be started. Major delays  on one activity renders other jobs impossible.

The biggest unknown, or punch in the mouth if you wish, is the center plate. I need to get the boat onto an even higher trailer to refine raising and lowering of the center plate. Height equals instability, trying to clamber around with paint pots and my huge bulk when she is precariously perched, augurs tragedy.  Health and safety demand that all painting is done before I try to get her onto a higher platform.

Anyway the basic message is; to keep the project moving, I have to finish painting. Painting is on the critical path.

Just a reminder

Saturday was the day to paint.  Friend and ex colleague, Natori san, kindly offers to help.  Two things go wrong. First, it is raining and second I do not have any paint.

Yay Natori san!

There is a guy at the boatyard who is the paint man. Yachts and boats are  being repainted all the time and he is in the thick of it. This is not simple stuff, but scrupulously careful preparation followed by high professional skills. This involves spraying on gel coat.  I could never do his job.

All well and good, but he said he would give me my newly tinted cream paint over a week ago but no show.

I rush to the boatyard this morning, Sunday, and Sapristi! there is my paint. Happiness and joy!

Such joy!

OK, so here we go!

This coat is the last of the undercoats. The formula  is 30% Pre Cote, 30% Toplac, 30% thinners.

Getting the paint right is crucial.

Cream, get on top.

It is very hot. This means that the paint goes off, cool speak for dries, very quickly. This is not good as you find yourself working with a viscous glue whereas what you want is a smooth, unguent fluid like Baxters  Royal Game Soup.

Little by little.

I can not paint for too long. There is heat exhaustion and also, and I can not think of the word for this syndrome, which is, at first I am very careful and scrupulous but as the day winds on, I just slap on the paint.

You have to know when to stop. Starboard.

Port

Good day but you cannot paint well in high heat. I will be back very early tomorrow for the first topcoat.

So, things are a bit slow at the moment. The reason is that the estimable paint sensei has not yet mixed my paint – turning it from white to cream. He is very apologetic, which embarrasses me, because he is only doing it as a favor after all. Anyway he says he will drop the paint off on the boat on Friday.

Friday I am otherwise engaged, likewise Saturday. On 16th, er, Wednesday I go away for a week. This means I have Sunday, Monday, Tuesday to complete paint job. Such deadlines, such stress.

However, I footle around with other jobs.

I mount the rudder, I paint the skegg and rudder drop plate with antifouling.

I then rub on and subsequently,  polish off, compound on the port side of the hull. This is such a good job as the benefits are so obvious.

Can you see the dry, matt front of hull compared to glistening back bit?

I wonder if I do this again the hull will come up even better.

Look, you can see the reflection of the boat next door!

Change of subject.

I check my post box and there is my car tax demand. This is always a high point of my year, as each year the letter design is different but aways stacked with glee and playfulness.

Here is the 2018 version. There are boats,dragons, clouds, cars, stars and it is pink. This is the way to collect taxes.

Paying these bills is super easy. You go to any convenience store,of which there are legion, and present the bill. The charming shop person grins and does the necessary.  2 minutes later, it is finished with lots of smiling and bowing.  Japan, how do I love thee.

The door bell rings. I rush to open the door and there as I had anticipated is the postman with my brand new sails.

I hope they are red.

Thank you Jeckells, sailmakers in Norfolk for making them and sending them over. Here is an exciting video.

By the way it is Iju time again. Iju is a forest tree that burst into flower at this time of year.  Very beautiful.

You are welcome here kind stranger.

Read all about it.

https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2016/05/11/iju/

I get a call from Showken san, who is the boss of the outfit that er trained me for the Boat Operator exams. My license has arrived.

Amazing really. This was not an easy qualification.

Throughout my childhood, we always had a loofah in the bathroom. It was for rough scrubbing of skin to remove all the dead cells, you know. Loofahs came from the sea. They were some kind of corally sort of thing. Everyone knew that.

Friend Tim disputed this. He  maintained  that the loofah was the fibrous inner structure of a gourd type vegetable. Pshaw!

Unfortunately, he demonstrated his correctness by growing loofah against his house.

Family grown, organic loofah.

Anyway, Tim, Mary and I  go down to look at the boat.

The boat makes everyone happy!

Tim takes a very sensitive photo of the engine.

Prior to the excursion to look at the boat, Saturday in Onna son started as usual. At about 9:00, a lady starts singing and the song is broadcast over the loudspeaker system.  The song is very repetitive and reminds me of Gregorian chant. The chant suddenly stops at about 9:45. It thrills me. It is authentic Okinawan culture.

It is clearly some kind of religious or social tradition that is miles beyond my understanding. It is always the same song and I imagine that it is played by the Onna Village Office. They only play the recording on Saturday morning.

Anyway, I am on my bike on Saturday morning and I begin to worry about my health. The symptom is that the strange chant seems to grows louder and softer. Suddenly it gets very loud indeed and then I understand.

It is a Beni Imo truck! Check the sound system.

Beni Imo is a purple sweet potato that for centuries has been the staple diet of Okinawa.

On the back of the truckette is a Beni Imo oven. I have seen these ovens at festivals and such but this is the first mobile one. It is like an ice cream van. People come out of their houses to stock up.

What the ancient religious chant that I have have thrilled to, is actually saying is, ” Baked Beni Imo, Baked Beni Imo, Come and Get It, Come and Get It!”

The lady driving the truckette is of course a star. Sorry for poor photo.

Baked Beni Imo is delicious.

Actually, he wrote a story about an overcoat; I am still on the undercoat.

Before you start this, check out this video of a Norfolk Gypsy of the same vintage as mine.

This is what the end result should be like. The video shows the Thompson family, who build Norfolk boats in England and have been very helpful to and patient with, me.

I left you half way through the first coat of primer. I am now happy to state that I have now completed 2 coats of primer.

The boat looks great!

Makeover

Painting boats is a manic activity as, as everybody knows, the success of a repaint is 90% due to the assiduity of the preparation.  Assiduity has never been a strong point of mine. To actually lay paint brush on surface is a very difficult act. You know that you could do more – more sanding, more cleaning and above all, more silicon trace blitzing.

I think I have mentioned that the smallest trace of silicon can seriously upset paint. I quote an authority,  “Silicone is a problem because it can migrate through the paint and penetrate the substrate.  When this happens the paint will lose adhesion and flake.  Also, re-painting will not adhere because the substrate is contaminated with silicone.”

I have never experienced this in my very soon to be 66 years, but it keeps me awake at night.  Every fitting, latch, board, trim, joint, screw, bolt, etc, on the boat has been liberally dosed with silicon sealant. This is evidence of the quality of construction. It is a nightmare when it comes to repainting.

Top deck during the first coat. Not much silicon here.

Front of cockpit during first coat

Anyway, I finally launch into it and have been painting feverishly.

First coat on cabin roof. The unpainted patches will be covered with Treadmaster non-slip mats that are, as I write, winging over from Norfolk.

Foredeck well being treated. The indentation where the samson post will be fitted had kilos of silicon sealant at the joint.

It is really hot. I have spent hours scraping and sanding off silicon around and under every fitting.

I have now completed two full coats of primer. Painting the cockpit is a test of character as there are so many little nooks and crannies that no one will see.   I have to sand and clean and de-siliconize  them, no matter what.

“Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows, but me.”

Sun is  a big issue. It is now 30 degrees and after 12:00 there is no point continuing as the hull is so hot.

Brother Ian sent me a fine sun hat. I have refrained from using it, not wanting to get it dirty. However a wide brimmed hat is essential now. 

Japan, how do I love you? Even in the back end of a boatyard there is a drinks machine.

I stop frequently for cold, cold, water.

You can get anything you want.

It is very hot down at the boatyard.

View from my office.

As you will certainly remember, I am half way through my first coat of very diluted primer.  I now enter the cockpit. This is a bad place, full of latches, pumps, cleats, engine controls, all of which have to be removed to facilitate  the application of the many coats of primer and topcoat that are to come.

This is tedious work. Rather than creating, you are slowing down. You know, notwithstanding, that is is the right thing to do.  Taking off all these little attachments is a long job under the beating sun. The temptation is to paint around them, but I am too protestant to go in that direction.

I dismantle bilge pump, hatch latches, engine controls, and all kinds of stuff. Dozens of screws and retaining nuts.

James, my second son, persuaded me to buy an electric screwdriver. I had previously been luddite about these things. I was wrong. It is the best tool.

Thank you screwdriver.

When, if, it comes to attaching all the woodwork to the boat, my little screwdriver will be invaluable.

I become very familiar with Pre-Kote. She is a wonderful product.

Pre-Kote. Such integrity.

Her relationship with thinners is crucial to my paint project. She seems to mix well with them but in such heat the thinners, kinda, fade away leaving a paint mix that is too soupy.

The constant balance between  Pre-Kote and thinners has been an education.

I have now completed the first undercoat. I believe subsequent coats of primer and magical topcoat will go faster as all the preparatory work has been done.

The boat is looking very clean.

All of this is such fun. But how does fun relate to very hard work under the blazing sun?

I actually think they are complimentary. I suppose progress is key.

I get to the boatyard early in the hope of painting.

I have to admit that that my little piece of boatyard has become  a mess. I am not good at overall things, I get too excited. I do the task at hand and think little about the environment I am working in. This is a weakness.

This morning,  I find that someone has totally cleaned up my little piece of heaven.

Brushed.

Arranged

Skeg on!

I can only think that this is the work of Kiyuna san. He is a role model.

Obviously I feel guilt that someone else has cleaned up for me,  but, er, you know, pleased too. Thanks to whomever.

I paint. First I paint the engine compartment cover as a test piece.  I mix the the primer and thinner 50/50 as Sato san advised. This seems nuts to me, I mean too much thinner, but when in Rome.

Here we go.

Then I paint the starboard side of the boat.

So exciting!

This is a very diluted undercoat.

Top of transom

What I am trying to understand here, is whether the paint will adhere to the boat. There is a lot of  silicon around and I have had grave warnings of how the minutest traces of silicon will mess up the adherence. So far the paint likes the boat.

I also polish the starboard side with compound.

Buy this

This is a wonderful job. You rub the compound onto the sun destroyed hull and some time after you buff it up.  What was dull, grey, sad, suddenly is gleaming white, as in teeth.

Good day, but the sun is strong. I wonder how many hours I will be able to stay outside as the Summer moves in.

I am at the boat yard at 8:00. I am bristling to go. Here is the plan. Remove the locker covers, easy, 2 screws, take the covers down to paint space beside the car  and paint them with first coat of primer. The removal also liberates access to the grooves, slaps and stiles between the lockers. This permits cleaning and sanding prior to paint.

My paint guru has impressed on me the mantra that the enemy of good paint adhesion is high heat and high wind. Thus cool morning painting is imperative.

Everything goes wrong. The screws that attach the hinges of the locker covers are driven into small nuts that are embedded in the locker covers.

Early photo shows a couple of hinges on locker covers. Easy to remove?

Unfortunately, the nuts spin during the unscrewing. It is impossible to get a spanner onto the nuts as they are embedded in the locker cover.

Small things can cause much pain.

So, I can spend many hours fiddling to try and get the locker lids off, and then many hours getting them back on again.

Here is is the awfulness of painting.

I can paint the lockers lids perfectly well without removing them, but there is no doubt that removing them is the right thing to do, as I will be able to clean, sand, etc, all the little nooks and crannies prior to painting, resulting in a better job. Who is ever going to look at the grooves between locker lids? Who cares? The answer unfortunately is that I do.

I have been found wanting.

Anyway, by the time I have realized that removal of locker lids is not an option, it is 30 degrees and there is an strong breeze blowing across the boat. These, I have been advised, are the enemies of paint.

Once again, as so often in my life, the words of Robert Burns ring true.

But, Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

So no painting today.

However, happiness and joy returns with the grunt of Kiyuna san’s Harley.

You will remember the arrival of Tag Boy.

Unfortunately Tag Boy was backed up against the shack where my engine lay, preventing access.

This is no problem for Kiyuna san. He simply cuts a profile into the shack’s door that corresponds to the transom and hull of Tag Boy such that the door can open freely.

He sits on a block of wood and works on the ground. He overhauls my engine under the hull of Tag Boy. 

I have been on many space allocation committees where academics have howled at their inadequate lab space. They should meet Kiyuna san.

Gearbox therapy

We will replace the bearings. Wakarimashitasu!

I have to make a template that will enable me to paint the corners of the non-slip parts of the boat. This may be confusing to you, but to achieve this I need  tracing paper. Guess what the Japanese for tracing paper is? It is “tracing paperu”. I score some at Daiso.

I am so happy to be able to buy such an abstruse article as tracing paper!

Paint tomorrow?

One thing that has bugged me is the thin yellow line. There is a groove around the boat that once was filled with a yellow stripe of tape stuff. More later.

Spot the thin yellow line. This is not my boat by the way.

Yesterday, I spent the day trying to spot an Oriental Stork, hyper rare bird that had been seen on Kouri Jima. I did not find it.

Where are you?

However the day was well spent, as I had a reminder of how beautiful Okinawa is.

View from Kouri Jima. No stork.

It is Lily time in Okinawa

Back to business – the thin yellow line has proved to be very difficult to remove. It has disappeared from all but the starboard bow quarter. The lack of symmetry offends me.

Because it is recessed into a groove, it is very difficult to get at and has resisted all my attempts to destroy it.

On the advice of a passing New Zealander, Nick, of whom surely more later, I get a heat gun. Actually I borrow a heat gun from Guido.

See how inappropriate the yellow line looks. See how clean and sanded the top of the boat looks.

The heat gun is fantastic. It softens the yellow stuff, which I then peel off with a Generation D tin whistle.

Hot stuff

More or less the same diameter as the groove.

This is the tool. I cannot play it worth a damn so she can gain satisfaction by being an amazing paint scraper.

Looking good

There is a Paint Sensei at the boatyard. I approach him with great deference and explain somehow that I would like my white paint turned to cream.  Can he change my white paint to cream? Of course  he says,” Hai, Dai ju boo desu,”

Things are getting serious. I will have to paint my boat!