In February 2021, the Wooden Boat School in Brooklyn Maine USA released the first of a series of on-line videos: “Mastering Skills with the Wooden Boat School.” In these videos mainly led by Greg Rössel, he gives step by step instruction on individual aspects of wooden boat building. The $49.95 annual subscription, gives access to all the videos to date and to new ones coming out each month. Greg Rössel is an excellent teacher and I recommend his book “Building Small Boats” as well as these videos.

The episode on lining off a hull was released a few months ago and has been a very useful source of advice as I come to lining off the hull of my dinghy.

Lining off is the process of tacking battens to the stem, transom and moulds/frames to establish the positions and sizes of the planks to be fitted. The Americans use the term strake for planks, hence their term lapstrake instead of clinker for this type of construction of overlapping planks/strakes.

There is a lot to take into consideration in lining off!

The Garboard is the lowest plank – the first to be fitted – and this must be wide enough at the stem to establish a sweeping curve and provide room for the greater number of fixings at the stem to hold the plank in place (the tension on the fittings here is greater than elsewhere because of the degree of twist and curvature at the forward end of this plank).

Having determined the position of the garboard plank, it is time to line out the remaining nine planks.

At the stem, the width of the planks above the garboard should be equal, except for the uppermost plank – the sheer plank/ sheer strake – which is usually a little wider than the planks below for aesthetic reasons. The strip of wood that runs along the gunwale – the rubbing strip – gives the illusion that the sheer strake is narrower than it really is, thus the height of the rubbing strip has to be added when determining the width of the sheer strake, so the plank does not appear too thin. In addition, a slightly wider sheer plank is aesthetically pleasing.

The planks should be fairly evenly spaced along the widest part of the boat, but slightly narrower going around the turn of the bilge, and slightly wider where the curve of the hull is less (at the bottom of the boat). That’s why the plank next to the garboard is often called the board strake.

Dividing the curved length of the stem, transom and the moulds can be done using a tape measure and dividing the measured length by the number of planks. However dividing these measurements is not easy, especially if imperial, and anyway errors creep in when marking out. This is where the technique, described by Greg Rössel as “The Amazing Diminishing Pyramid” comes in. This is ancient geometry, used in determining perspective in drawings and design, perhaps better shown than described:

In practice, there is no point in doing this for all the moulds. Equal divisions are only necessary at the stem, and in the middle of the boat they serve as a guide only because the plank widths are adjusted to the degree of curvature as mentioned above. Once the lining out battens are nailed to the stem, transom and middle two moulds the battens adjust themselves to produce a fair line … like this:

My next job is to mark the top edge of the battens on the stem, moulds and transom (a shallow saw kerf on the moulds, and red biro on stem and transom). Then I shall remove the battens and use till roll tape to transfer the marks on each of the moulds and transom to the other side; fit battens to the starboard side; and check for fairness.

There’s a Greg Rössel tip for transferring the marks at the stem I shall describe later.

By the way, I had the devil’s own job getting the garboard plank’s batten to run fair between midships and the stem. Thanks are owed to Matt who helped to tweak the batten to give it a fair line! Thanks too to Mark and Sylvia for their help with this phase of the build.

On the 29th April, IBTC Portsmouth held our long-delayed (by Covid) Graduation Ceremony. Four cohorts of students gathered to receive their formal graduation certificates. It was a superb event, and great to meet up with those we had come to know well. In her speech, the CEO of Portsmouth Naval Base Property Trust (PNBPT) and Heritage Skills Ambassador, highlighted the importance of, and value in maintaining, training in traditional heritage skills.

Four days later, the College staff were informed that PNBPT has decided to close the College, with the BB19 cohort completing their 1yr boatbuilding course in July, but BB20 having to leave at the end of their initial 12-week joinery (which they had only started at the beginning of March) and thus not completing their year’s course.

The Trust deserve much credit for taking over the College in 2017, when its future was in jeopardy. Thanks to the Trust’s intervention, and with its support, the College has trained many students in traditional heritage boatbuilding skills. Graduates have gone on to work internationally: three have gone to Costa Rica, to work on the Sail Cargo build, and others have worked in Venice and other parts of Europe. Closer to home, graduates have gone on to restore National Trust craft, work in the NMRN (National Museum of the Royal Navy) on HMS Warrior and HMS Victory, and one is currently working on Golden Hind in London.  One graduate is leading the restoration of ‘Falmouth,’ which is part of PNBPT’s Historic Boats Collection, and other recent graduates are doing superb work with him on a voluntary basis.  College students and at least one graduate have contributed to the Trust’s CMB (Coastal Motor Boat) replica project. Others have worked for the College, and many are working in the Marine Industry, which is crying out for people with the very skills that the College teaches.

Unfortunately, despite the Trust’s hard work and its best efforts, the College has continued to run at a significant annual loss. These financial difficulties have been well known, as have the efforts of the Trust to mitigate the deficit. Nevertheless, the news came as a shock for both staff and students. The Trust had painted a very positive picture of the College in their last accounts at Companies House, noting that the number of students was at an all-time high; and that the planned strategic review was not expected to move the Trust away from any of its activities.

I have written to the Trust’s CEO and Trustees, asking them to reconsider this decision. Not only because of my passion for the College and my fellow feeling for the staff and current students, but also because of IBTC Portsmouth’s valuable role in maintaining the heritage skills of traditional boat building. Sadly, their decision was final and irreversible, and my efforts were to no avail. Thankfully, pleas for BB20 to finish their year’s course have been heeded. The fact that they had made huge commitments and change of life decisions to do the 1 year course were highlighted. Indeed, three of that group are international students, and another is from Scotland.

I have been assured that every effort was made to find a way to make the College viable. I have been told that the Trust intends for Boathouse 4 to remain a thriving hub for volunteers and for trainees working on the historic collection; and that the Trust will look to support training opportunities for young people, in partnership with industry.

Nevertheless, I remain saddened and disappointed that the College is to close, and how this was handled. At least the current students can now finish their course. It is a great shame that a way could not be found for the College to continue. As I acknowledged when I wrote to the Trust’s CEO, the harsh realities of limited student numbers are a very real constraint on the success of the UK’s boatbuilding institutions, but I think it is important to say that the College’s year-long course cannot be replaced by short courses and secondments.  

Let’s hope that the remaining colleges are able to continue – for the sake of the maintenance of traditional heritage boatbuilding skills, the industry, and future students.

Oftentimes, things work out all right … better than feared.

Perhaps the anticipation of difficulty, and the fear of making a mistake – or of failure – has a part to play. I suspect that the subconscious mind prepares and plans our next steps, charting a way to succeed.

Then there are conscious thoughts in a sleepless night too!

I left you last time, contemplating the keel rabbet with some trepidation, and its end at the transom in particular. I wasn’t even daring to start thinking about the stem! The angle of the bevel changes along the length of the boat, but this is especially so at the two ends, and more so at the stem!

I decided to tackle the port side first. At each of the moulds, I beveled the hog, such that a plank would lie against the mould. Using a shoulder plane and a scraper with a square blade (enabling me to keep the inner angle of the rabbet at 90 degrees), I worked between the moulds, then headed to the transom.

Here is the finished rabbet at the transom on the port side, with the hog beveled and tapered in a smooth (fair) curve to meet the transom.

With the keel rabbet almost completed, the time finally came to tackle its transition into the stem. The keel rabbet must run smoothly from the keel up and into the previously cut stem rabbet. In doing so, the hog is blended three dimensionally. The width is reduced to fit the 1st mould; the thickness is reduced progressively to blend with the curve of the stem rabbet; and the bevel is adjusted so that the plank can twist from about 80 degrees at the 2nd mould to nearer 30 degrees at the 1st mould and into the stem – it’s a nerve-racking process, so I took it very slowly, gradually, and carefully.

in order for the garboard plank to lie against the first mould, the width of the hog has to be reduced, again with a smooth curve, down to nothing at its forward end,

So, the port side rabbet is completed, subject to any minor adjustments needed when the garboard plank is being fitted. With one down, and one to go, I can turn to the starboard side now – more confident in having done one side already!

Sylvia and I have just had our second trip to Lyme Regis in the space of a few weeks. The first to split a week in a nearby cabin with our great friends, Mandy and Craig; and this time to spend a few days in the town itself, so that we could attend the biannual launch ceremony at the Boat Building Academy today.

We have had a very enjoyable few days, and today’s event was the icing on the cake.

Due to the blustery conditions, proceedings started in the boathouse, which gave an opportunity to look at the three boats to be launched and chat with others present. Visitors included students’ families, past graduates, the Mayor and Mayoress, and the local sea shanty singers – the Lyme Bay Moonrakers.

The 14′ Paul Gartside-designed traditional clinker outboard launch is very roomy and sturdy, and very nicely finished:

The 18′ strip planked dinghy, ‘Zinnia’ may not be completely finished, but she was definitely ready for a dip. Her hull is SUPER smooth.

How’s that for a bowsprit?!

The third craft, possibly my favourite, is the 15′ 6” glued clinker Westray Skiff. The design for this double ender with its pronounced flare midships comes from the islands of Westray and Papa Westray in the north of the Orkney Isles.

After a couple of sea shanties and a couple of short speeches, the boats headed out to the nearby harbour slipway.

In the harbour, there was a very stiff breeze. Spray was being flung over the Cobb’s wall by the incoming waves:

For the students and their families, this was clearly a fantastic celebration of their course, their learning and the quality of their work. I am sure the instructors and staff get a huge sense of fulfilment too, seeing finished boats being launched twice a year.

I think we might well go again!!

Days turn to weeks, and weeks to months – two since I last posted on this blog. But I do have some progress to report!

With the aid of a laser level, straight edge and spirit level, I started fitting the moulds in place. These need to be centred accurately, set to the correct height, and strongly braced in position at ninety degrees to the centreline of the boat. The first two of these was accomplished using the laser and traditional levels, and the straight edge. Getting the moulds perpendicular to the centre line uses a simple, but ancient technique: horning.

So, what is horning or horning-in? Imagine the centre mould pivoting about the vertical strut I fixed between the hog/keel and the garage rafter. To fix it perpendicular, all I need to do is take points on the edge of mould – such as the 18 inch waterline – and make sure that the distances from each of these points to the midline of the stem is the same. An isosceles triangle. There’s no need for rulers or measuring tapes … out comes the horning batten – much more accurate.

The horning batten is simply two sticks clamped together, so that they can slide and then be fixed in position, with the distance end to end able to be finely adjusted. All that is then required is to adjust that length until both sides of the isosceles triangle match.

Step by step, one by one, the four other moulds were adjusted into position and braced, so as to be strongly held in position.

Once the five moulds were in place, I fitted the transom: a 2” silicon bronze screw at the bottom; a home made 5mm roved copper nail above, and a brass shackled bolt that provides her with a mooring eye. Sylvia was on hand to back up, while I roved the nail:

So, here are a few photos of the final result, with all the moulds and transom in place:

With the setting up completed, it is time to tackle the keel rabbet, something I have not been looking forward to.

The bottom-most plank the garboard, is fitted into a recess made in the keel and the hog – the keel rabbet. The photo above shows the recess already made in the stem – the stem rabbet.

Here’s a diagram of the cross-section of the keel and hog:

Using a batten, clamped in place against the moulds, I have marked the line where the inner aspect of the plank meets the hog, which is known as the bearding line. (The rabbet line is the line where the outer face of the plank meets the keel, and the inner bearding line is the apex of the recess. Sorry … too much information!)

The most important thing at this stage, as in so many aspects of boat building, is to create a fair line (no flats or bumps). So, …

Oh, I must also mention a fabulous event that took place towards the end of January: our son’s wedding to Stephanie. I was commissioned to make a wedding arch for them and, despite my uncertainties over its usefulness, I am pleased to say that it did form a nice centre-piece and was well received:

Well, I cannot put it off any longer, I have to tackle that keel rabbet now. It will be very tricky at the transom, where I have to avoid going against the grain on the hog, and splenching (tearing out) the back edge of the transom. I haven’t dared to start worrying about the stem, where I will have to narrow the hog to meet the 1st mould and creep up on the stem rabbet. That’ll be the time to “tickle and blend, tickle and blend” as I was told at IBTC.

Wish me luck!

It’s too long since I last posted on this blog. Two months!

Somehow, the individual tiny steps don’t seem to merit a mention but, taken together, there’s a couple of strides’ worth of stuff to report.

The hog:

Having steamed the aft end of the hog, I took the hog to the loft floor, and marked it with all the reference lines I could think of: the station lines, where each mould will sit; the position of the centreboard slot; and the position of the timbers (ribs) that will be steamed in place once planking is completed.

It was now time to glue and screw the hog to the keel. With a series of blocks screwed to the strongback, the keel could be held perfectly straight; and some smaller scraps of wood were nailed onto the blocks so that the hog would be perfectly centred on the keel when butted up to them. Such careful preparation is essential because you cannot see pencil lines to judge accurate positioning when the glue is squeezing out. As our son James was told at Dartmouth Royal Navy College, ‘Prior preparation prevents piss poor performance!’

Sylvia and I did the glue up.

Once the glue had gone off, the blocks were removed and set up on the centreline of the strongback. With plywood ‘cheeks’ screwed in place, the keel and hog were firmly in place, and counterbored silicon-bronze screw fixings were fitted.

Transom knee:

The transom sits on the keel, and is held in place by the transom knee, which serves as a bracket. There are a number of ways to make this important knee: grown curved timber, lapped or bridle jointed pieces of wood or, as I chose, a laminated knee. The key is to have the grain matching or supporting the inner curve of the knee to give the necessary strength to this member of the boat’s centreline/backbone.

Holes were then drilled in the knee (and then through the deadwood and keel), and the knee was glued onto the hog with Semparoc 60 polyurethane glue. Having made some more 5mm copper nails, the knee was then nailed and roved, with Sylvia’s assistance.

Stem fixing:

With the hog glued and screwed, it was also time to fix the stem to the keel.

Sylvia and I then roved the copper nails that I had made, finishing the stem fixing.

Finally, the transom:

I mentioned the transom in my last post. This has been made from three pieces of Khaya mahogany, jointed together with 3mm marine plywood splines. These splines bridge the butt-jointed planks, running in grooves that I routed with a power router. Despite my apprehension that the router would pull off line, this step went very well, and a quick swipe with a Record plough plane finished the job nicely.

With the epoxy glue cleaned up, it was time to make my transom Mylar template from the lines of the transom expansion on my loft floor. (The transom expansion is the process of stretching the ‘height’ dimension of the transom, in order to account for the fact that it is raked, not plumb/vertical.)

Once the transom had been cut to shape, it was put in place, with a plywood jig positioned to hold the keel in place.

With the transom fitting nicely, I turned my attention to carving the boat’s name.

An aside:

While enjoying a break away in Bradford on Avon, I managed to finish a little project for my woodturning mentor and friend. I am delighted to hear from Richard that this sign has drawn in the punters to his recent craft stall events. Perhaps I should have asked for a percentage of the resulting increased sales!! (Just joking, Richard.)

We recently visited the Oak Fair at the Stock Gaylard Estate in Dorset. It is very traditional, predominantly woodcraft-related, and free of corporate tatt. One of the exhibitors, Bodden Cross Studios, was offering letter carving and woodturning courses.

I had been thinking that I might carve the name of the boat on her transom, so I took a leaflet and a few days later got in touch with Stephen Stokes, who has his studio near Shepton Mallett, and booked a day’s letter carving course.

We drove down on Monday, for a two night stay at the local Charlton House Hotel, and on Tuesday I spent a very enjoyable day with Stephen. While there are books and, no doubt, You Tube videos that one can try to learn from, nothing beats 1:1 tuition from an expert craftsman. Stephen soon had me carving Is and Cs and then we moved on to carving the boat’s name: ‘Mischief.’

Stephen is not only a good teacher, he is also a great raconteur. The time went all too fast but, by the end of the day, I had completed a practice run and started another – the M is especially tricky, as there are some fragile parts of the letter that can easily get chipped out.

I had planned to take the transom for this course, but ran out of time to have it ready. No matter, I can practice my letters before tackling the real deal.

The tools I need for letter carving arrived this morning, and I made myself a mallet yesterday, so I am good to go.

By the way, I am not taking commissions at present, though if you don’t mind a novice attempt, my arm is twistable. Anyway, I have a boat to build!

As mentioned in my previous post, the aft section of the keel and the integrated deadwood has some checks (splits), resulting from the seasoning (drying out) process.

Having pondered for some weeks, whether to simply use epoxy/other filler, or to do a formal repair, I finally resolved to do the latter. Firstly, because it will probably be more effective and longer lasting; secondly, because is a lot easier to do it now, rather than after I have attached the hog to the keel – let alone after I have planked the boat!

A Dutchman’s repair – or “Dutchman” for short – is also known as a Graving or Graving Piece, which again may be corrupted to “gravy bit.” Why have just one term, when a few synonyms will do?!

This technique is used to repair a defect due to rot, split, or a knot in the timber. A piece of matching wood is cut in a diamond or coffin shape, with a very fine bevel, then placed over the defect.

Here’s one I did earlier, during my IBTC course, repairing a defect in a keel, involving a knot. The knot extended right through the keel, so I did the repair on one side, and another student did t’other.

The current repair is smaller in extent and less complicated. However, there’s rather more at stake!

Generally, I eschew electric routers, because they are noisy and produce a lot of dust; and because they are not without risk – especially to the workpiece. However, for this job – cutting a shallow straight-sided flat-based groove – an electric router is otherwise the ideal tool. So, with careful planning and measuring; checking and re-checking the clamping and guide fence, I set about my dutchman repair(s).

It may be helpful, for those not familiar with the anatomy of wooden boats, if I describe some of the parts of what is called the centreline structure(s) – the backbone, if you like.

On a bigger boat, the deadwood – a wedge-shaped piece of wood that sits on top of the straight keel – is separate (viz dotted line), and attached to the keel. I have made the keel and deadwood in one piece – one less joint to fit and have exposed to the elements … and risk it opening up in future years!

I tried clamping the hog to the keel for well over a week, hoping to ‘dry bend’ it to the shape of the deadwood. However, when I took off the clamps, there was hardly any bend to the hog. So, I decided to apply some steam!

The structure of wood can be compared to a bunch of drinking straws, held together with glue. That ‘glue’ is lignin, and its property of softening with heat, making the timber pliable, allows woodworkers to bend wood to shapes it would otherwise not form without breaking. Direct heat from a fire has very largely been superseded by steam.

While I will need a steam box for the ribs, the foremost ends of planks and this rear section of the hog can be steamed using a plastic sleeve.

After 30 minutes (1 hour per inch thickness of timber, is the rule), Sylvia and I quickly clamped the hog in place, with a backing piece of plywood to protect the hog, and help prevent cupping (transverse curvature), which may occur with the wood in its relaxed state.

There is still a slight gap between keel and hog, an inch or so in from the end, but this should work out OK when I cut the hog back, to make room for the bottom edge of the transom.

Just visible on this view are some shallow checks (splits) in the deadwood, which I aim to formally repair, rather than just fill with epoxy/filler. I know, I’m not making a piano, but …

While I was waiting for the hog to ‘dry bend’ I took the stem to my bench, and cut the rabbet.

The rabbet is the recess in the stem into which the ends of the planks are seated. The lines that form the rabbet are shown below, and are derived during the lofting process, where the boat is drawn full-size on the floor.

The router work went better than I dared to hope. I re-drew the rabbet line and proceeded to chisel out the recess.

There is a risk that the bearding line might not be quite right, and one should make allowance by not cutting all the way back to the bearding line. This allows some ‘fat’ that can be trimmed off when fitting the planks. I think I have gone a bit closer to the bearding line than I should, but hopefully it will be ok – the students at IBTC have found that they have needed to extend the bearding line so … fingers crossed!

The final shape of the stem narrows to the front edge (a feature called the ‘cutwater’). I have left the stem square for now, as this will make clamping here easier when I come to doing the planking.

What’s next? Well, the timber for the transom and planking arrived safely, and those pieces that are too long for the garage are on the conservatory floor! I have started work on the transom, and am facing and edging some boards prior to ‘thicknessing’ them before jointing.

After some delay, the extra-long drill bits and silicon bronze screws required for the dinghy’s stem arrived. I drilled the holes for the locking screws and the copper nails, and then shaped the inner face.

With the inner face at its final shape, I needed to make blocks to facilitate clamping the joints tightly closed:

Yesterday, after a dry fit, with the nails up to, but not crossing the joint line, I applied Sikaflex EBT ( a filling/sealant/glue compound) to the joint surfaces, using the toothed side of a hacksaw blade to create a thin even layer on all mating surfaces..

The stem was then put back together, initially secured with the locking screws, and the clamps. The nails were driven home – cut-outs in the clamping blocks allowing for this.

I left it clamped up tight for 24 hours, to allow the Sikaflex to ‘cure.’ Today, I took off the clamps, and roved the nails, with assistance from Craig and Sylvia doing the ‘backing up.’

It was great to be using my homemade roving kit, to get the nails roved, and their ends peined over.

The stem joints were now secure. I checked the template on the stem once more, and cut the outside face of the stem, using the bandsaw and then spokeshave.

I had feared that the apex joint would not be as tight as it was in the dry fit. However, the extra time spent to get the clamping effective, was worthwhile. I am chuffed with the end result.

As I removed the clamps this morning I noticed, for the first time, the manufacturer’s name DAWN on one of the F clamps I have been using – it had been brought over to England from Australia by my Dad in 1962, shortly before I was born. I’d like to think he would approve of its use on this project.

The next job is to dry-fit the keel to the stem, and do the final shaping of the transom end of the keel. The wood for the transom and planking is scheduled to arrive this coming week.