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Miss Kathleen 5.4
Seems like I just got the outside figured out, and then it was time to put the inside together. Probably a good thing. I’ve been wanting to see how it might decide to turn out. And, here at the Frankenwerke we don’t go in for a whole lot of warning on that sort of thing. Anyhow.
The pilot berth to port has ceilings now.
What’s left of the old main bulkhead, to port, that once carried the strain of rigging loads is now all boxed in and foo-foo’d as well.
Then, it was time to see what the cabinets might decide to look like. The counter tops are still at the lumber yard. Stuff like sinks and cook top are still to be found. But, this assemblage extends about eight feet along the starboard side. The blank spots between rail & stile framing will be filled in with more of the same pine strips used on the hull sides. And, one of the doors is propped up near where it’s planning to hang, and swing.
I filled a couple large cans with just the dust and chips taken from all the machining required to reduce some otherwise good boards into 1-3/4” x ¼” thick ceiling strips. Just the portion that escaped from the various dust collectors got about ankle deep at one point in the marathon effort.
Just so I could make several small piles of stuff that looks like this.
I’m thinking that it all doesn’t look like such a much, now that I’ve knocked off the night shift, and cleaned up some of the rubble. But, just about every one of those little sticks that are affixed to Miss Kathleen’s innerds, required around half dozen trips up and down the ladder, and an array of tools that becomes a bit surprising.
Another day or so, and maybe we can start figuring out what the exterior is supposed to look like. Looking forward to seeing that.
Miss Kathleen 5.5
I think one of the biggest problems with putting in two shifts and taking all the overtime The Boss will allow is that I miss a lot of time at my Regular Table down to the VFW hall. But, when I do get down to The Hall, most of the guys want to know how I think I’m gonna’ blend this notion of a 100-year old commuter launch with the functional stuff of a pocket cruiser. And, there’s this one guy—an old Air Force vet—keeps telling me that I need some graphics to set this little girl apart. And, I tend to agree. His idea of graphic decoration probably has more to do with the sort of “literature” he used to tape up in his barracks wall locker. And, once again; I do tend to agree on that salient point.
Anyhow. Before putting the shop to bed, at about zero-one, I was fooling around with a sort of “tweedy” pattern that says “classic” to me. Well, classic—but probably nothing anybody else has tried, either.
I discovered that if I cut some of the left-over ceiling strips into 5-1/4” bits, they are just about three times as long as they are wide. Allowing for the multiple things that pushing trees through a table saw, and repetitively ka-chunking off pieces in the sliding miter, and bull nosing the edges with a hand-held router, and all that; I could make something outa’ wood that resembles a tweed pattern in fabric. “So what?” you say.
Well. I was simply gonna’ use contrasting plywood panels. Until, I chickened out and began to expect delamination, bubbles, and such. But, I did still have a few sticks of this really-cool spaulted pine. And, a guy just can’t keep his shop floor swept up for ever. I do figure to tint it with a special-mix the nice lady makes up for me over to the seed and feed store. A combo of shellac and a pigment that gives pine that aged look. I’ll have to paint on some Duck’pox and varnish it, and all that outsideterior stuff. And, I still gotta figure out how to make the curved wood trim that will separate the herringbone pattern from the horizontal tigerwood strips. It needs to cap the runout piece that masquerades as a cockpit coaming, as well.
I think there’s over a hundred little pieces glued to a 2’ by 3’ piece of ½” mdo. And, there’s still another side to deal with.
I guess the upshot might be, “If you can’t do really-good work, then you should do really-lots of it. Then throw it up against the wall. Something has just gotta’ stick…