Construction of s/v Millie J

The construction of Millie J was an ordeal similar to a pregnancy followed by a long labor; exhausting, yet in the end, well worth the trouble.  There were many lessons learned, which is a polite way of saying not everything went as planned.  Yet, there were some craftsmen who did their jobs superbly making it possible for the boat to return from a very questionable future.  And, there was Rich and Alayne who refused to stop.  Their tenacity saw this project through.

The plan--research everything about building a boat.  Study all the pitfalls of others so mistakes aren’t repeated.  Read about all the different products available for each system.  Get opinions from others who have used products or services, so advertisements aren’t the only source of information.  All these things were done.  Months were spent gathering and digesting information.  However, even when an idea is based on viable information, it doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the outcome.

Millie J was originally going to be a steel boat.  After reading several articles about steel hulls surviving hammering on a reef where fiberglass hulls came apart after grounding, steel seemed the choice.  Rich had owned wooden boats in the past, one built of substantial lumber and while the look of wood was appealing and the durability adequate, the downside was the continual maintenance.  Rich and Alayne ventured into Ted Brewer’s life armed with the decision to build in steel.  The consummate designer quickly put that notion to rest.  Ted explained he would design for steel if required but aluminum was a much better metal choice for the following reasons:

Confronted with this data and after going back to “school” to read as much as possible about aluminum, the choice became obvious.  The design work progressed and after several draft trials, a final layout and basic hull style were agreed upon.  At this point, Ted’s work progressed rapidly.  Drawings of layouts, framing, and building details arrived on a weekly basis.

Meanwhile the search began for a builder who would do the job in a timely manner and at a reasonable cost.  High quality of past projects was imperative.  Two Northwest builders had time for the project and seemed to fit the bill: one in Anacortes, Washington, the other in Sydney, British Columbia.  Because Rich and Alayne would be commuting to visit the boat from the southern end of Puget Sound and because cost and quality seemed to be the same, the Anacortes bid was accepted.  A contract was written with safeguards for both sides.  A date for the start of construction was set and Ted’s hand drawn plans were sent to a company who converted the drawings into the digital format used by plasma cutters who would turn large sheets of aluminum into the individual parts that make up the hull.  This was a computerized version of the lofting room prevalent in the past.  A bonus to this method was the ability to maximize the part layout on each sheet thus minimizing wasted material.

Because the builder had a small project to finish before the start of Millie and because the digitizer and plasma cutter had other projects as well, the start date began slipping.  Not a lot, but it was a pattern that was repeated several times.  Rich’s good friend Kurt, a professional marine finish-carpenter, talked him into using this delay wisely.  Kurt claimed measurements from the plans could be used to build a pattern of the interior space at the galley and the navigation station areas.  This could be made from scab-plywood and door skins.  Once complete, cabinetry could be built conforming to this space which would (Kurt promised) fit the finished hull.  Besides being meticulous with the measurements relating to the plan, it was imperative to remember the finished cabinet had to fit through the hull’s companionway.

There was definitely a period of time spent learning methods of fitting the outboard side of each cabinet to the hull.  Not only does the hull get wider as the height increases but, it also changes shape longitudinally.  To help get these shapes correct, patterns were made of cheap door skin then traced onto the cabinet surface.  Board by board a cabinet would come together.  Sides and backs were constructed of cherry veneered plywood.  Cabinet faces were made of dimensional cherry with biscuits and glue used for the joints.  In an effort to maximize ventilation, door fronts were made of framed caning.

During this waiting period, Rich was able to finish all lower galley cabinets, the chart table, and a main saloon cabinet.  A different lull in the boat’s metal work allowed him to complete the drop leaf table as well.  Besides getting a head start on the interior, it kept Rich from loosing his mind during delays.  Kurt was right, when the day finally came to install the cabinets, they fit like a glove.

Finally, the metal construction began.  The first step was to build a strong-back, a rigid frame built of steel I-beam that would keep the parts locked in place during construction.  Onto this structure, wooden patterns were placed at each frame location that mimicked the deck shape.  The deck plating was fastened to these patterns with screws and tack welded together since the hull was built upside-down.

Welding is an art and the welding of aluminum is a specialized art.  While the extreme heat of welding will warp any metal, aluminum is very vulnerable.  Placing tack welds every inch for eight-inches then moving to the other end of the metal and working back for another set of eight, followed by the seemingly random continuation of this process, kept the heat from being concentrated in any one area and kept the tacks from making unsightly bends in the plate.  Frames were then put together and placed on the inverted deck at 30-inches intervals.  Next, the longitudinals were connected to the frames.  These were made of rectangular flat bar placed on-edge 7-inches apart at the belly of the hull.  In the bow and stern sections they drew closer together keeping the same number of longitudinals in a smaller space.  Ted had explained that the spacing of the frames and the longitudinals is where the real strength of the hull came from, not in the thickness of the hull plating.  If the framing was close enough, a boat could be sheathed in foil and it would still be strong.  Millie, however, would be covered in plating ¼-inch thick below the waterline and 3/16-inch thick above.

The plate was first applied to the hull on areas with little compound curve: along the deck line, at the bow, and where the hull met the keel.  During the same time, the keel was constructed in a way that would allow it to be unbolted and removed from the hull.  Then it was trucked to a foundry to have the lead poured in, which was poured slowly to keep the high-heat warping to a minimum.  Later, when the hull was otherwise completed and turned right-side-up, the keel would slide under and be re-bolted into place, then welded along intersecting frame members as well as the skin.

Finally, the only pieces of plate remaining were at the turn of the bilge.  This is the area of a radiused chine boat with a compound curve.  Metal, like plywood, does not naturally bend in two directions at once.  However, there are some methods to coax it there.  One method uses a big mold of each piece of plate, then a large hydraulic press punches the plate into shape; much like a paper plate is stamped into shape.  This method would be impractical and cost prohibitive for this small project.

Another method is to plemish the metal.  This is the same process often used to manufacture bicycle fenders and motorcycle fuel tanks, at least those not produced by the stamping method.  Plemishing involves pushing the aluminum plate between two polished metal wheels that are forced tightly against each other.  Forcing the metal plate between these wheels extrudes a small amount of aluminum out each side which introduces a warp in the metal.  If done several times in a prescribed pattern, the plate begins to take on a bowl-shaped quality and forms a compound curve.

This was the method selected by the builder and work on a plemishing tool started.  By the time it was completed, it felt like a boat project unto itself.  Unfortunately this method did not work very well.  Maybe, if a craftsman experienced in this technique had been employed it might have gone better.  The learning curve was too great, however for the time and money available.  After scrapping the original pieces, additional plate was cut to shape, sent to be press-broke in a traditional one direction curve, and run through the plemishing machine to approximate the correct curve.  The “strong arm” method was then used to hold it until tacked.  This left small distortions but the builder felt minimal sanding would remove them after completion.

Attaching the final plate signaled the beginning of the weld-out phase.  In this phase, eight inch beads of weld are run along seams inside the boat.  Moving from one area to another to keep the heat uniform and the warping force to a minimum is even more important during this phase. Much more heat is generated during these long continuous runs.  When completed on the inside, around all those frames and longitudinals, a circular saw is adjusted so the blade height is about half the plate thickness and run along each weld seam on the outside of the hull.  This removes the weld soot and provides clean metal for the weld to stick to when the weld-out continues on the exterior.

Cleaning the metal before weld-out is the most critical step in welding aluminum.  Without it, dirt imperfections are buried in the weld and little bubbles often form next to this dirt.  Most importantly, the weld is not strong.  Cleaning the seams is accomplished either by the saw kerf, mentioned above, or by using a stainless steel brush.  Any other type of metal brush will leave particles that will later oxidize.  Using any type of grinding wheel or sand paper will just leave another type of particle to contaminate the weld.

This is where the real problem began.  The schedule kept dragging.  Weeks turned into months and the months added up.  Less work seemed to be accomplished.  Unfortunately, until the hull was welded together, it couldn’t be taken from the builder for fear of damage when moved.  The final weld-out, although excruciatingly slow, progressed until more problems showed up with turn-of-the-bilge plates.  These seams had not been thoroughly cleaned and imperfections appeared in the weld bead.  The only solution was to saw out the dirt and begin again.   Even with this technique, all the dirt wasn’t removed.  Again the seam was cut.  Again it was welded.  Each time heat was applied, the metal distorted more.  By now, a lot of heat had been applied.  Waves appeared in the metal.  Weighted rubber mallets were used to beat the metal back into shape which in turn began to crack the weld from the force of the blows.  (A good weld joint would have been stronger than the plate on either side.)  The waves were sanded smooth.  Not once but a several times, after more welding and more beating.

Much of the metal sanded off came from the plate next to the raised weld bead.  Rich and Alayne decided to put a halt to everything.  They brought in an ultrasound technician who measured the thickness of the aluminum over the affected area.  When it was confirmed the plate thickness had been substantially reduced and many of the interior welds in this area showed signs of inadequacy, they decided enough was enough.  They moved the hull to another location taking all remaining parts for the cockpit and trunk cabin construction with them.

Often times it is at the darkest hour that fortunes change.  Alayne’s sister and brother-in-law happen to own an engineering firm and a welding shop in Olympia, Specialty Steel Fabrication.  They didn’t want to have anything to do with an aluminum sailboat (very smart people) but they graciously offered a corner of their shop for continued construction.  Enter blessing number two, in the person of Darias Bisson.  Rich met this welder in Anacortes and knew he worked extensively in aluminum as well as steel.  Darias primarily worked on boats.  He didn’t have a shop of his own, normally working on location out of his truck, but he was willing to drive the 2 ½-hours to Olympia for weekly work shifts--thus the name of his company, Fly-By-Night Welding.

Where the original builder was a struggle, Darias was a dream.  Soon, the affected sections of hull plating were removed and scrapped.  New pieces were brought in and press-broke to the approximate correct shape, then Darias used the third method of putting a compound curve in metal, the judicious use of heat.  The same welding heat that can warp metal the wrong way can be used in the hands of an artist to warp it the way he wants.  Bit by bit the new plate conformed to the shape required without any loss of thickness.  Ted analyzed the original problem and had Darias add some additional athwart weld stiffeners between existing longitudinals in the affected area.  The finished hull was inspected by a second naval architect and when everyone pronounced Millie J cured, she was flipped right-side up for the final time.

The keel was positioned and welded, and work started on the cockpit and trunk cabin.  Pieces were methodically created and tacked into place.  All this was accomplished with the care of a craftsman and the eye of an artist.  A watertight bulkhead was constructed between the main cabin and the sail locker.  A metal bulkhead was installed between the main cabin and the engine room.  Port lights were installed and hatches bedded in place.  Finally, Millie was sealed against the elements.

This was when the next piece of good luck fell into place.  Just when Rich’s welcome was wearing a little thin at Alayne’s sister’s shop, Rich’s good friend, Kurt, uttered words he was sure to regret.  He offered the use of the shop at his house to finish Millie.  It was well lit, insulated, heated, and had most of the woodworking shop tools known to man.  Alayne and Rich had to think about this for a long time.  One-quarter of a second later, they agreed.  The move was on and soon the boat, Darias, Rich and Alayne were installed into the new shop and into Kurt and Peggy’s life.

Deck hardware mounting plates for were soon welded in place, the engine bed platform finalized, and the propeller shaft log finished.  At this point, Darias needed to return to his wife and family for more than a weekend.  He completed the water and fuel tank construction at his home in Marysville, Washington. 

Today, he is thought of, not just as a business relationship, but rather as a friend.  His company, Fly-By-Night Welding, is heartily endorsed.  He saved Millie J.

Exit Darias, enter the next and perhaps most fortuitous bit of luck:  Dick Smitha of Norcraft Marine in Anacortes, Washington.  Dick is a wonderfully gifted fabricator and organizer and, if Rich and Alayne had known, he would have been the first choice to oversee the building of their boat from the start.  He didn’t claim to be one of the best welders in the world but, he knew them and they loved to work for him. (Darius was one.)

Dick agreed to spend some time helping fabricate mounting pads for all the systems that needed attachment to the boat: the engine room fire extinguisher, water pumps, and the refrigerator compressor to name a few.  In addition, he helped install and align the engine as well as fuel and water tanks.  Finally, he imparted experience and recommendations that allowed Millie to be thoughtfully organized rather than a mish-mash of systems.

Because the hull plating at the turn of the bilge took so much abuse during the early stages of construction, the hope of not painting above the waterline vanished.  Dick did one final favor by recommending a painter, Mike Rohlfing.  Naturally, from the Anacortes area, Mike is an expert in fairing hulls and putting on finish: anything from paint to world class varnish.  He did all this work in the prescribed time for the amount of money quoted.  Great quality and on time performance, both for an affordable price--a wonderful combination!

The goal is not to produce an advertisement for these craftsmen, but in an industry where it is too common to be disappointed by craft-people, it seemed important to share the names of those who produce a quality and equitable service.

The sanding, etching, fairing, and painting went flawlessly.  The quality surpassed what was expected for the amount of money spent.  Like all finishing projects, twice as much time could have been spent to give the boat that “yacht” look.  However, that was never the goal with Millie J.  If care was not taken, it would have been too easy to fall into the “white carpet in the living room” syndrome.  The intention was always to have a boat that looked good but didn’t wander too far from the work-a-day roots of her namesake with strength and functionality.

It wasn’t only Rich who spent his total non-paid working life involved in the boat’s construction.  Alayne was always available to hold metal for tacking or to sand rough edges.  In addition she took the lead on several important tasks: installing the hull insulation, patterning and applying the deck non-skid, sewing the upholstery, and installing the interior vinyl non-skid.  Additionally, Alayne painted many interior wood panels.  Most of the exposed interior was cherry finished with either lacquer or polyurethane.  Unseen wood was painted because it was imperative to make sure all wood surfaces had a sealer.

Two choices were considered when insulating the hull.  Spraying closed-cell insulation would have made an air tight seal which would have minimized condensation; however, if a repair to the hull was ever necessary, it would have been the dickens to remove.  The other option was chosen: applying sheets of one-inch thick closed-cell foam between all stringers and covering that with two-inch thick thinsulate batting so it could be removed if needed.

Aluminum corrosion was a concern.  It could have two major causes: the contact of dissimilar metals or stray electrical currents.  Use of dissimilar metals was minimized and where it was unavoidable, a separating barrier of Ultra-High Molecular Weight plastic was used.  Below the waterline, zinc anodes were placed on the hull where the water flow was the greatest and in the area of the propeller. 

Adherence to American Boat and Yacht Council’s recommendations handled stray current potentials.  This included installation of an isolation transformer.  Rich drew schematics and had them checked by a marine electrician before final wiring.  While it seemed just a few circuits at the beginning, the number added up and filled lots of days.

The balance of the systems and the interior went together at a continuous pace.  Time was taken to preplan the installation minimizing the number of “re-do’s”.  That did not mean things happened quickly.  The old saying, about figuring the amount of time a task would take and then doubling it, needed doubling.  Yet a point was reached where there were no more excuses for putting Millie in the water. 

In August 2005, six years after starting, a group of close friends stood around waiting to see if Rich was going to have to hang himself.  (He had claimed hanging was his fate if Millie sank during the launch.)  Whether those people were disappointed or not remains a question, but Millie certainly did not sink.  Her smart lines, bright paint, and stainless shown in the sun.  Then, one hour after launch, when everyone had gone and Millie was quietly motoring to her slip, she transformed herself from the building phase straight into the maintaining phase.  Her engine began to overheat.  Fortunately it wasn’t an omen of things to come but rather an air bubble in the fresh water cooling system.  All newborns need burped.

The mast, scheduled for September, was not ready for installation until November.  Somehow this delay did not seem as bad as previous ones since Millie could at least be used as a motorboat.  Rich had a previous sailboat re-rigged at Brion Toss’ in Port Townsend, Washington and had no reason to go elsewhere.  Brion, a well known rigger, writer, and teacher had an interesting approach.  To the degree possible, he had Rich do as much work as possible, monitoring and teaching as necessary.  He believed sailors could be days away from professional help, when at sea, and should know how to fend for themselves.

The mast finally showed up and was stepped quickly.  Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication between Rich and the spar manufacturer, and the boom was slightly too long.  Back it went, finally reappearing at the end of January 2006.

The rigging complete, measurements for sails were taken.  Carol Hasse and her wonderful staff at Port Townsend Sails do magical work.  Their product costs a little more than some lofts; however, the durability and reparability make their sails last years longer, making them a better value.  While the rig was measured for sails, Jack Landwehrkamp balanced on his tip-toes in the snow to connect the HF antenna. He provided all the electrical oversight on this project and performed as wonderfully as he had on Rich's past sailboat. (Jack is such an expert, he knows electrons by their first name.)

By April, Millie J was a real sailboat.  She performed as expected: reasonable speed in light winds yet very sea kindly in heavier conditions.

Undertaking a boat building project is not for the faint of heart.  If Rich and Alayne were to do it again, they would be thankful for the lessons they learned on this project.  Learning who some of the better crafts-people are would be the only reason a new boat could be considered.  It is because of them Millie J reached fruition and they are thought of fondly.