The outside deck line is created with the 1″ x 1.5″ long molding called the sheer line. The next step is creating the inner trim line which defines the deck and the seating space. The blue tape seen below left is first visual experiment.

For the molding, I picked a 12 ft. piece of straight grain cherry. Granted, it is not the world’s first pick for boat building wood, but it is available, of medium density, and works superbly. I also had plenty on my wood rack so I decided to “shop local.”

To make a 22 ft. continuous molding, I had to splice two pieces with a 20 inch long scarf joint. It goes the full distance of the paper below. By making it long, it allows basically the same bending characteristics as the other solid pieces.

The left side is shown with the long molding ready to install. The nails and string show the refinement of the line, and allows a visual inspection to see if it follows a regular or “fair” curve.

It passed muster and served to position the cutout notches. They were cut with a hand saw, chisel and rasp, as needed to seat the molding the right height and along the curve.

The most difficult notch was the front, which did not go all the way through. I cut as far as possible with the Japanese pull stroke handsaw (bought at Menards).

Necessity is the mother of invention, so I figured the drill might do as well as hammering with a chisel on the white oak front frame.

Then a bit of the easier vertical chopping to take out waste.

And the half mortise was ready to final fit.

After the curve of the entire runner was micro adjusted to suit the eye, it was bent into the notches and bonded with epoxy. It becomes a visual line and a strength element, and the structural organizer for all of the interior spaces.

The umteenth step of the impossible journey is done but a seemingly endless list awaits. Tomorrow . . .

The end of the story from the last post is shown below, as I am tuning up the final angle where the sheer log meets the bow. It may look simple enough, but hanging on to a screaming body grinder at a precise angle with 36 grit paper is no casual task. I could have used a saw and a file, but, if the edge is visible and there is room to move, it is the fastest and most direct path toward completion.

I have long wondered what built by hand means, but if it is anything beyond shaping something strictly with your fingers, then this concentrated, practiced effort has to qualify also. Taming the body grinder is on par with training our Boxer dog Buck.

He never was fond of the leash, and pulled continually toward the next interesting scent or dead treasure. We always had to be prepared for the surprising and potentially injurious jerk, should any rabbit or any other animal jump to flee.

The grinder can be a lot like that dog. It pulls, it whines, it catches and jerks, all the time requiring it be handled with gentle pressure. But if it is mastered, it pulls as hard and fast as an Iditarod sled dog.

Those long sheer logs or moldings are now faired, and assembled into the framework of the boat. Now, it allows the imagination to go down the road a ways, as the 3D shape is coming into view.

The line where the top of the boat meets the side is called the sheer line by traditional builders. It is never straight, and is a defining shape of the personality of the boat. Sometimes it starts high in front, to cut the big waves, and comes down in the middle perhaps for rowing or fishing. This beautiful rowboat shows that reverse sheer.

My speedboat on the other hand, will not be battling such severe weather, but will need great visibility forward at all times. In this case, it has a positive sheer line, lower at the front to see across, and higher in the cockpit area for seating comfort and wind protection.

The line always curves inward toward the front, and the whole shape must be “fair,” a beautiful shape. Fairing a curve means making the shape flow with out hills or valleys. Lumpy does not make a winner. The best help for a good curve is a slender board long enough to go the full distance, thin enough to make a consistent bend, and thick enough to resist distortion between supports.

I chose a piece of cherry, and sized it to 7/8″ x 1-1/2″, and then had to splice together 2 twelve foot pieces to make 20 ft. As noted in the last post, the first one broke under the pressure of bending. I picked a straighter grained piece, thinned it a little, and started over. Below is the scarf joint, angled over 14″ so when glued, it will behave mostly like a solid original piece.

Then, the process begins by cutting a notch at the corner of one cross frame, and gradually fitting the sheer log in place. The photo below shows starting in the middle, using a bungee cord to hold it and then going on the next frame. Not a step to rush, as it will be examined, praised and criticized ad infinitum should this boat ever get on the water.

My friend Stan Oyer asked if there is a point in boat building when you have to give up the tight tolerances of levels, angle guides, and tape measures. Yep, and this is another of those many times. Below, I spring clamped two straight sticks to the extended sheer molding, just to see if the angle is similar side to side. I did not measure, or level up, but just got back and looked at the two sides from a couple of angles. My conclusion is that they are beautifully compatible, if not perfect.

On to the seat framework coming up . . . You are never lost until you are out of time.

The boat strong back has finished its purpose, and was dismantled (last post), but as soon as the hull is turned over, it will need to be held up by another support, generally called a cradle. Since it is also temporary, it was built for braun and not beauty. It will have to hold up, reasonably steady, the increasing weight of the boat and occasionally my weight as I climb in and out.

The legs are 2 x 4s recycled from the legs that were holding the cross frames. The other pieces are are random 2 x 2s or 2 x 4s that were laying around the shop. It is not easy to see, but the two boards that contact the hull have a cardboard cushion to avoid scratching during the next phase.

Last, the angular center piece is to give front to back rigidity, and prevent falling easily. If this isn’t enough, I may need to add some diagonal bracing later on.

As before, we needed the 2 x 4s attached to the ceiling joists, and Jeff Margush was agile enough to climb and get the job done. It is amazing what a few screws and a T-shaped 2 x 4 can hold, but from the look of the head scratching, I have some questions! I gained confidence considering that the thick yellow rope worked on the past boat.

Then the moment came to tie it up, lift and begin the turn. The rope prevented danger or over laod on one person.

We should have removed the legs from the first phase, as they got in the way of the ceiling and almost broke the light. But damage was averted with patience and moving it forward.

As the hull came down right side up, we settled it down on the custom cradles. It is remarkable how much construction on a boat is for strong backs, legs and bracing that eventually gets removed, leaving the boat alone.

Thanks to Jeff Margush, Johnny Crist (front) Marvin Metzler, Carsen, Aiden, and Jeremiah Greve, Leonard Nafziger, LT Newland, Stan Oyer, Jeff Bonta, son Jason Bonta and son-in-law Doug.

“It is not the end, only the end of the beginning,” said someone famous. And now the joy of seeing the boat up right. Much more work to do so we carry on . . .

All of the cross frames, and longitudinal moldings and support parts just serve to build support for the shell of the boat, in this case the hull. The intention for the back 6-8 feet is that the surface should be flat for most efficient planing. At first glance the surface below looks flat, and it is pretty close, based on preparation faring work on the frames and stringers.

The tools of the trade for this task are the straight edge, a plane or two, these from Lie-Nielson, and the home made long sanding board.

Pencil marks show where the hull was slightly high, and the block plane or the low angle jack plane start to flatten the area.

Then some sanding with the long board, to only hit the high spots, eventually tames the mildly lumpy surface to a happy, fair curve.

When you are hitting a ball, you have to keep your eye on it, and you might be able to play music by ear. But the if you are testing how well the hills and valleys of a surface are “faired,” the final judge is the hand. You could do it with you eyes closed.

Jan’s Grandma used to say “A man convinced against his will, is of the same opinion still.” I guess that could apply to a dog also, like Buck who would sit at the end of his chain beside the electric fence, as his head bobbed every current pulse. Sometimes, even a board has an “opinion,” with internal forces that show themselves when it is cut, springing apart or pinching together.

So when building furniture, parts are cut slightly over size, to discover any internal stress causing bend or twist. Then the edges can be straightened and the twist removed, before assembling it into the piece of furniture.

Boats, however, have so many curves that require different techniques to build and assemble. Laminating a straight piece to the curved chine stringer requires a bunch of clamps to persuade it to lay smoothly against the others.

Another example is in the machining of the tongue and groove planks. It is dangerous to have hands pushing small, thin parts near the cutter head. These angled feather boards are clamped with pressure downward, and inward against the feed stock, to allow hands farther away from the danger zone.

In the case below, the two ends of planks did not want to lay flat and made it difficult to fit the next piece. As the screw block is tightened up, it forces the edges together and the next grooved board will fit and hold them flat.

As the hull planks are assembled, some clamp pressure is needed to conform to the curves of the frame work.

Below, the angle block is shown which was temporarily screwed to the frame to hold the clamp securely. When the final assembly with epoxy was done, the clamp was replaced by screws to hold the planks in place.

Assembling the second side needed another temporary block to hold the clamp, and screws hold it together as the epoxy cures.

Where the planks come down meet the chine rail, the fit is more difficult. For a long curve, the cut can be done on the table saw to make an over sized plank.. It is a bit dangerous, but slow, steady cutting with gentle side pressure produces a good starter piece.

Below, the bottom plank was angled out too much, so the saw was used to cut through the contact point, so the wood block could push the bottom part inward. The clamp and screw with a large washer are used to hold it solid when the epoxy is added.

Temporary hammer blocks help to press another bottom piece in place, testing the fit. As it meets resistance, I mark the contact spot and continue sanding or cutting the high spots away.

At the end of many trial attempts, eventually the plank can be hammered by the “Persuader” fully into place with the plank fitting well to the rail. The pieces marked with green tape show which ones still need to be removed and epoxied.

Finally, only a few planks remain to be fitted on the second side. It breathes a sigh of relief, nearing the end of a great step of progress.

Next up, some fairing, a second layer of thinner plywood, and paint before turning the boat over for phase two!