Glenn, I have plans for that white stripe. And, if I had anticipated the degree of care and attention that I would end up lavishing on this rebuild I could have removed the old ugly deck plates and installed new ones, I have a set of black vinyl MRC deck plates that would fit perfectly.
The scuffed up kevlar felt nose guards on the old deck plates needed a fresh coat of black paint. I haven’t been able to find a simple pint can of black Rustoleum enamel anywhere in months. I did find a pint can of green Rustoleum enamel, which will come in handy for yearly touch up work, and for - is painting ever finished? - a little something else I have in mind.
I do have G/flex, black pigment and graphite powder. And time on my hands. Gotta love how a teeny epoxy job, done right, still takes prep work, taping, and setting out of the needed materials. 30 second epoxy job, eight different things needing prepped on the bench.
P1200002 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
Worth the minor effort, the deck plate tips are done and now tough as nails. Without guessing OOSOBO’s finished weight I don’t see anyone I know hip-flipping it up and getting under the yoke, so feel free to grind that deck plate nose into the ground as needed.
And I will admit, the original kevlar felt and urethane resin did hold up admirably for years of abuse. So there’s a
second use for kevlar felt. The other use
NOT being skid plates.
P1200004 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
The begun out of sequence the stem loops could finally get installed. I wanted a hand grip on the loops, but almost everything in the toggle box selection of reinforced hose and bicycle handlebar grips was too wimpy flexible for grasping OOSOBO’s obesity.
P1210005 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
I had something much better for a heavyweight, some 3/16” thick wall rigid plastic of mystery origin, with the cupped bottoms cut off. Stamped “
Corning 8441”
P1210006 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
I wonder from whence those came? Hey Google:
http://temp1.andbio.com/product/334...ottom-glass-centrifuge-tubes-8441-lot-of-6/#/
A ha, more “
Maybe I’ll find a use someday” trash, salvaged from a abandoned microbiology lab. Anybody want to lick my centrifuge adapters? Tastes like Ebola to me.
As always, the line length and toggle were sized to pivot over the stem tips without knuckle bashing, even when gloved. I inadvertently left a shop window cracked before I went to bed. It was 7F outside when I got up, and a wee bit chilly in the shop.
P1210007 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
I used high quality line for the painter loops. Not so for the actual painter lines; a look through the “
Junk Rope” box revealed the harsh reality of that label. It is crap rope. Old, used crap rope. That big box of nope that lived up to its label, and none of it was near long enough or strong enough anyway.
P1210022 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
I wanted to provide painters to be left attached to the stem loops at the launch, and not oops forgotten left at home. Not having painter lines on a canoe would feel like driving without a seatbelt, but the shop spool of floating rescue line deserves a better fate than being left upside down, inches from the dirt, eight months a year.
It can be mediocre quality rope, but I’d like it to be new, brightly colored, and both pieces 16-ish feet long, enough at each end to reach from stem to stem.
Sometimes the magic works
In a long-uninspected stuff bag of miscellaneous rope I found a couple brightly colored unused pieces, fortuitously already cut at appropriate 16-ish foot lengths. Identical color patterns, but the bow line is a reasonable 3/8” diameter and the stern line a full hawser ½” thick.
P1210009 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
P1210011 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
Stern painter overkill, but again achieving the not so hidden objective in this rebuild, more shop “surplus” goes bye-bye.
Speaking of which, time to pick out some paddles. Nothing too good or oft used, and even then everything on the back of the racks has some oddball or sentimental value, if limited desirability.
From the way back of a paddle rack, a massive oddball, 66” long, it was missing blade chunks and was refurbished into an exaggerated (and slightly irregular) Otter Tail
P1210013 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
66 inches? Eddie or Connie could stand up and paddle with it. That’s what I’ll tell them any way. The refurbishment of that paddle was at least accomplished silky smooth; I must have cared enough to use schedule-thinned coats of real varnish, and not just slapped on some urethane.
The other paddle has more history. A 30 year old MRC Voyager paddle. Decades ago, back when friend Joel ran the local paddleshop, two MRC Voyager paddles were crushed-box delivered with busted off blade edges. Joel tossed them, broken blade pieces and all, my way.
Those were the first half decent paddles I ever repaired; the busted off edges were pinned together using thin finishing nail rabbets, glued with some mystery white “marine” glue and clamped. After a lifetime of Feather Brands and aluminum Mohawks we had real paddles at last.
P1210014 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
An odd note about that long ago crude blade fix, the “repair” was ugly, but we used those finishing nail pinned & glued paddles hard for years and they are still going strong. I’ll keep the 58” one. Thanks Joel.
Those will do nicely, and fit well in the designed paddle keeps.
P1210017 by
Mike McCrea, on Flickr
But. . . .but. . . .but. . . .Brian had some very nice paddles, both store bought and hand crafted, single blades and canoe-length double blades. Those really should be used in OOSOBO, but for starters a couple back-of-the-rack relics will do.
Photo observers will note that I still need to plug the gunwale holes left from the center seat. And more tiddly stuff yet to go. Not just tiddly, but downright frou frou.