We all warm things, both figuratively and literally, to make them pliable, easier to manage, more flexible. I’ve warmed up to folks over the years for an assortment of reasons, with mixed, but predominantly positive, results. If you overdo it, though, you can melt (or burn!), which may prove destructive, unproductive, or require retraction.
If what you’re trying to manipulate is one of Mother Nature’s masterpieces, the SPARRING is a serious thing and takes serious heat. Bending one of the most durable and rigid woods known to boatbuilding is done by steaming.
Like people, no two slices of our repurposed long leaf yellow pine react in exactly the same way. After an hour and a half under full steam, there are mere seconds to form that board, soon to be a plank, into the shape you require. Timing is everything. After clamping it in place, there is a cooling off period, to see who won the joust, to see if we have properly STEAMED.
I can’t wait. I go paint. I’ve never been good at waiting for the next step of anything; I’m someone who cannot do nothing. This facet has gotten me into trouble more times than I can count. On our worksite, even if it looks like trash it could be treasure…as a matter of both perspective and reality. It’s gotten heated around here because I can’t resist tidying, and I don’t always understand the trash/treasure spectrum. Better to do nothing, I’ve been told, but that is impossible, at least for me.
I don’t believe any two people react the same way to even well-intended warmth. There’s a reason we use the word ‘steamed’ when we’re angry; it denotes a powerful force. And while I’m not angry, per se, about the coldest weather pattern in years coming in next week (and another foot or two (.3-.6m) of snow!), it will make our hot processes much more challenging.
Aromatic sawdust is attached to every surface, occupying the nooks, stuck to my wool scarf, (we are still scarfing; five more to go)…I track it all the way to our little apartment, embedded in the treads of my old-looking, newly-paint-splattered and purchased-for-this-job work boots; it’s not a nemesis, exactly, but close...(See THE BEST LAID PLANS). We have reserved a giant bag of that sawdust, with the enterprising idea of selling little burlap bags on eBay to those folks that have everything and crave the natural elements that constantly surround us. We definitely don’t have time for that, but it stays in the background; monetizing a waste product is the ultimate in entrepreneurship.
Creating said sawdust is the first step in a plank. We purchased the seven-meter-long boards thicker than we needed, uncertain of the true parameters of the project and wanting to secure the PRECIOUS COMMODITIES before they were sold for flooring, the most prevalent use. They average 130 pounds each, 59kg, about the same as me. The whole project is a tenacious wrestling match ten feet above the ground.
Before we steam and form, we plane each board multiple times, bringing the thickness down to match the surrounding boards and the rabbet, where planks meet the new purpleheart stem to recreate the bow; there’s lots of geometry. On the very bottom plank, which was meticulously replaced this week, the number of bevels (slopes) on each of the six surfaces is astonishing and time-consuming. Once you cut, grind, trim or plane that wood away, you cannot put it back.
Ultimately, our goal is to keep liquid out of the vessel and maintain STEADFAST’s amazing strength, no small task. The back of this short replacement plank is concave to fit the bend perfectly. It was steamed three times all told; three rounds of SPARRING to get it right. Just like when you’re warming up strangers or leftovers, there’s not much predictability.
Our attire, on the other hand, is entirely predictable. I have settled on one I’ll-just-wear-this-out outfit to go with the boots; a stained t-shirt, three layers of donated smartwool, some funky hippy pants from Goodwill with a phone pocket, Merino wool longjohns. Some nights I wash all those layers, most nights I don’t; there’s little sweating involved. I drop the whole pile on the floor outside the bathroom, washing off the day in the hottest shower I can stand. As the darkness gathers each evening, later and later, thank goodness, my bones get cold. Mental bones, real bones. The shower revives them both. It’s perhaps the one luxury that I will miss when we move back aboard, a limitless supply of hot water rather than a quick shot, turn off, lather, rinse, repeat.
I wear four socks, as I have ever since Thanksgiving, and they don’t keep me warm. Once, temperature in the teens, I tried six. That didn’t help and even threw my balance off a bit; we can’t have that in this precarious game of slippery scaffolds and steep ladders. We’re far better off barefoot, we sailor types, far better off. Those hard callouses I have wielded against rough waterfront for decades are diminished, but easily rebuilt come spring. I am more than ready, months away from completion, to be back on the water.
Random side note: my father carried cloth handkerchiefs. As a child I ironed them into sixteenths as I had been shown, thinking it was an outdated concept (even then) since we had a decorated box of tissue in every room. Now, working outside during this cold damp winter, I clearly see the wisdom, too late to let him know. I wrote a book about that, about losing him, called Say What Needs to be Said, and you can find it on my website. We should all warm up to that idea; I am losing friends far more frequently than time should allow. Say it.
~J
SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE is steaming right along, absolutely inspired that I have such a diverse following on Substack. I got a heart-warmingly awesome mention on Phil Friedman’s post recently. For more reliable information on ALL things boat please visit For Yacht Builders, Buyers and Owners. Thank you Phil, for sharing my work; you know it makes a world of difference.
I get exhausted reading about the hard work you have to do every day in the cold. Come south for a breather anytime you can. You know you always have a place!
Monetizing a waste product - LOL! Out of context, we could sure take that idea in a few directions.
Is there any warmth to be had from the steaming process? Would they notice if you propped your feet above the steamer every half hour or so?
I do feel for you trying to carry on in this work through the winter, and what a winter it's been. Between the low temperatures and the wind, you've really had a lot to contend with. At least it's looking like this new round of snow will fall farther south. Fingers crossed!