Hauling out is always hellish, isn’t it? I think so. Maybe it’s my girly side that just hates getting all dirty and yucky. Or maybe I just like to feel my arms at the end of the day. Whatever, this haul-out was as ugly as they ever are.
But let’s start at the beginning. We sailed the boat from Sausalito to San Rafael on Thursday with some friends. Our little outboard chugged us out of Richardson Bay, then we caught a little (very little) wind.
Rob was totally fired up to sail her and he was thrilled with out she handled. In the light wind, we hauled up our nearly new $50 Pineapple asymmetrical and kicked the ass of every other boat in Raccoon Strait. By the time we hit Paradise Cay, the wind was piping so we hauled it down, raised the jib and reefed the main. All good practice, as far as Rob was concerned. He wanted to fly every sail he could!
We forgot the handheld GPS so have no clue what our SOG was but we were definitey making good time. And the boat really handled everything very well. A teensy bit of weather helm but it was manageable.
Making our way up the supposedly-dredged channel to San Rafael was . . . interesting. We were sucked into the mud FIVE times, four of which we were right next to the channel markers! Thankfully, we had Big Aaron along to hang outboard — each time we were able to heel the boat over and spin it off with the outboard. Exciting stuff!
San Rafael Yacht Harbor pulled the boat Friday morning and we set to work.
While Rob worked on removing the old engine fittings and sterntube Asshole decided to leave in, I sanded the hull. The sterntube was a real bitch to get out — he used about a gallon of JBWeld to seal it (then, if you’ll recall, ran a length of hose to the cockpit drains sans hoseclamps!). Rob spent hours chipping it all away and pounding the tube out.
The old engine fittings, which were filled with JBWeld, tapped out easily — frightening!
Then there was this little drainhole at the bottom trailing edge of the keel we didn’t know about:
The bronze fitting was completely wasted so it was yanked too. In all, there were four holes in the boat that Rob glassed in and faired. This little drain hole was interesting — it’s obviously at the bottom of the bilge with no way to reach it. We managed to get most of the water using really sucky rags, then Rob poured half a gallon of resin down there to ‘fill’ that small section (the rest of the bilge is filled with ballast).
While he was doing all that, I was doing this:
My goal was not to sand through to the previous coat of paint (the original gelcoat is that nasty 70s Harvest Gold) but only to smooth the brushstrokes left by Asshole’s paint job. Though you can’t tell by the photos, the bottom was handsanded by our diver friend Tim while it was in the water. A little touch up here and there and it was ready for paint — I highly recommend it!
I’d hoped to paint the hull Saturday, giving it a whole day to cure before splashing but it wasn’t meant to be. Instead, Saturday afternoon was spent working on the gudgeon and pintles. You really wouldn’t believe what was holding on this 75-lb rudder.
The bolts on the gudgeon were NOT through-bolted. They were just lag bolts. Eek! The screws on the pintle were about 3/4″ long and there were a grand total of THREE! There were just two sets of gudgeon and pintles — one original and this retro-fit. Needless to say, one good bump and they both would have failed. I wonder how hard it is to find a rudder for a Contessa??
Anyway, we found out why the lag bolts weren’t through-bolted. The original bronze gudgeon piece is still embedded in the hull and the new bolt was set right on top of it. Just a little grit and determination — and a couple drill bits — saw Rob through the bronze. We now have a completely through bolted set up for the lower g&p.
For added safety, considering the age of the original g&p, Rob added another set just at the waterline. This sucker ain’t goin’ anywhere!
Yesterday (Sunday) morning, we got to work early, taped and wiped the bottom and painted it. We did the waterline first so it would be dry enough to tape so we could paint the hull. Sadly, the wind kicked up in the afternoon and the boat upwind of us was creating a cloud of dust from the gal sanding the bottom. What to do? Worst case scenario, we pay for the lay days and wait till we can paint without the cloud of doom. I asked how long she would be working and she said she was tired anyway and to go ahead with the paint job. Great!
As it turns out, not so great. It was really blowing so not only did the paint catch every speck of dust in the yard, it dried so fast that we couldn’t keep the wet edge wet, no matter how much thinner we used. Long story short, the paint job looks like shit and we’re both extremely disappointed. Two back-breaking days of sanding for this? Hindsight is 20/20 — we should have just waited. So we’re calling it a ‘50-ft paint job’ — it looks good from 50-ft away (which is where I was standing when I took this shot).
Any closer than that and you can see how horrible it is.
So we’re just considering this the ‘first coat’. We (meaning ‘I’) will sand the boat in the slip a section at a time, when I have the inclination and energy, then we’ll repaint at our convenience — on a fairly windless day. I do love the color though.
We splashed this morning. The yard guys were worried about mucking up the paint job but how could it be worse?!
Rob’s on his way home with her now, not giving one rat’s ass about how the paint looks!
