Frank Giovinazzi

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This Boat Will Be Watertight

After a 2 hour sail, I resumed working on fiberglassing the deck. I am removing all deck fittings, some permanently, and swabbing resin over the whole mess. After scraping and sanding.

I figure most of the water coming in during rainstorms is from the handrails and the loose stanchions, with smaller amounts coming in from loose screws and assorted cracks.

It is a 40 year old boat, and it appears the deck has never been touched up — original gelcoat is scabbing in sections where the previous owner laid down treadtape to protect it from further erosion, and the whole of it needs redoing.

It is the opposite of fun but I am working on the assumption that stem to stern resin application and 2 coats of paint will ally most of the leaks.

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Is it really a mobile phone

if it’s plugged into a power supply all the time?

I’ve got a house and car charger now, and keep the iPhone plugged in at all times when I’m not using it, and sometimes even to take a call. Tough on the neck, but man if this thing doesn’t lose battery faster than when I first got it.

But I must be an ingrate — it’s AN IPHONE.

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The line between expediency and half-assing it

is pretty thin and when it comes to doing the deck repairs on the boat it’s top of mind. The idea of doing a showroom restoration is out of the question — I think it’s a waste of time, at least for me, and I don’t have the time. First, a Pearson 26 is a good boat, I love it, maybe it’s a great boat.

But it’s a boat. meaning it is meant to be sailed and lived in and perhaps on, and spending 200 hours to make it look like the vintage brochure does not accomplish this primary goal.

Also, let’s face it, even totally restored it’s worth a couple, three thousand at most, so I don’t want to get carried away, putting $10,000 worth of work into a $3,000 boat.

I plan to simply remove legacy deck fittings that I am not going to use at this stage of my sailing career — anything to do with the spinnaker, for instance, and I will close off old fastener holes that were used for instruments. This is a bay boat, not the Santa Maria. My goal is to have something that is pleasing to the eye, that is a matter of [moderate] pride and that is clean and watertight.

It’s possible that painting it is a goal too far, but the current shade of Avocado green is atrocious. My internal joke is that he bought the boat at Sears and they threw in a free refrigerator. Either that or he painted it to match the cushions. Anyway, pairing it white will restore the rather lovely lines to the vessel, give it a crisp appearance and make it look a little bigger. [Any boat you’re thinking of living on, as soon as you start thinking it, automatically shrinks]. Also, as fresh problems resurface, they will be easier to isolate and repair with a freshened canvas.

So I have been reading Don Casey on the appropriate topics, even skimming once I feel I’ve gotten the point as well as editing how much of the the purist I intend to be while keeping the expedient goal in mind.

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When faced with a seemingly difficult task

contrast is always helpful. In my case, I’ve been kind of dreading the must-do project on the boat — fiberglass deck repair, then priming and painting it.

But I’m watching a documentary, 180 [degrees] south, where the cast had to deal with a broken mast at sea — and then repair it off Easter Island, in the water, using handcut wooden supports to get the thing back up! Let me repeat, they were using axes to make the tools necessary to make the repair.

So for me, going to West Marine and dropping $350 on supplies isn’t such a big deal. I am guessing the whole project will take 10 work days. I am also guessing there isn’t a West Marine store available on Easter Island.

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The oldest cure for writer’s block in the book…

is taking a piece of writing you admire, preferably in book form, rip the cover and binding apart, then put it on a typing stand and transcribe it word for word.

It allows you to forget about your own designs and get your fingers moving [which I think is actually the best cure for writer’s block], and enter into the world and style of thinking of something you admire. You will quickly come to understand flow and construction, and best of all, the sheer joy of composition, even if not your own.

If you’re obsessive, you might copy a whole short story or novella, or at least significant portions of a work. If you last long enough, you’ll get a sense of beginning, middle and end, or at least the feeling for what a piece feels like whole.

Best of all, your subconscious mind will have been resting and observing during the exercise, and be ready to provide you with the entry into the work you’ve been puzzling over. It may not be an open door, but it will at least be a window into your own world that you can sneak into before your conscious mind stops you from getting started, again.