Different Strakes

This shit still exhausts me! I worked 6 hours on Gwen yesterday and I feel like napping now at 4pm. What a wuss.

It was damn good though. The skies were kind enough to give us a whole day to turn the boat around and fit the rubbing strake to the side of the boat that isn’t waiting for concrete repair. This involved me slipping into my sexy red overalls (by which I mean Rich’s baggy, stinky, oversized red overalls – I’m saving up for a spanking new guantanamo bay number), sawing and routing out the spaces for the bits and bobs that go over the side of the boat from the long wooden strake and helping Rich suspend the thing in roughly the position in which we would attach it.


Then I headed inside the boat and drilled into the existing hull holes through the wood while Rich held it in place from the outside. He bashed bolts into the holes I made and I fastened them with washers and nuts. Not always the easiest job, particularly at the back of the boat where the strake reached almost to the tiller. Rich had to climb inside a horrible little space to drill the last holes out, but he’s used to that, dear of’im.



Unfortunately today was wetter than predicted so we haven’t managed the final step of sinking the bolts (so that they won’t catch if rubbed on other boats) and re-attaching the strake with black waterproofing goo between. Another job almost ticked off the list… almost. We have a huge joblist, guidelines that I got Rich to tell me and organised into 7 sublists for different parts of the boat. Rich managed to knock the first job off the lists last night by sanding and priming that bulkead he made a while ago. That’s where we’re going to put up the lists!

I let my mum do some of her NLP mumbo jumbo on me on Friday, some exercises to stop me from being allergic to the dog. It involved quite a nice process of relaxing and working with my past and my current perceptions of things, and I’ve got some things to take away and practice. I can’t try not to be allergic, but I think she wants to train my subconscious to realise that I don’t need to be. We’ll see what happens with that. I’m not sleeping on the boat for a while anyway, which is a pity as I do love it there. Sodding dog. That cute, stinky, whiny, tiny, funny little horror is the bane of my life.

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