Month: May 2020

1981. The year my boat the Katahdin was built must have been a banner year for the carpet industry. The mottled blue, burgundy and gray nylon product was bank lobby ugly, totally indestructible, and used just about everywhere. Vee berth sidewalls, the painted gray 1” plywood flooring in the main salon, galley and aft berth, and tiny odd shaped premolded cream colored plastic floors of the two head (bathroom) kits.

I don’t know if you remember the 80’s. But… some addled boat designer dictated carpet for galley, salon and head floors. For those of you with imagination, you can guess what happened. To the carpet. Over the past thirty-nine years. Food spills in the galley-red sauce, spaghetti, milk, orange juice, salad dressing, ketchup, mustard, olive oil, bacon grease, jelly and jam, coke, diet sodas, left overs of dubious age, and in the head- shampoo, conditioner, lotion, make-up, lipstick, patch em up medical products, blood, soap, seasick, and toothpaste. Based on first hand evidence, add black coffee, coffee with fake creamer, buckets of red wine, knocked over beers, and the detritus of meal accidents served on board a boat in rough weather.

Removal. The original install had been super simple. Cut and fit. The carpet was so heavy no glue needed. Engine room access was under the main salon floor, and I think the plan was to roll up the carpet when engine work needed. But, like everything else on the boat, time had aged the carpet to rigor mortis level stiff. It took a heavy duty box cutter and a pile of blades to cut the rigored nylon into manageable size pieces I could lift and toss out the door. By contrast, carpet in the tiny odd shaped head sections were a piece of cake. Big surprise was discovering a second, virgin, sparky clean carpet hidden under the dirty top layer. I guess the previous owners never found that clean layer either….

Most difficult removal project: carpet glued to the Vee berth sidewalls. Industrial grade glue-designed to withstand a nuclear explosion-held that stuff in place. I lift weights and work out, but at 73 could not budge even one tiny corner, and ended up bringing in David Lyon, who is young, cute and super strong to pull it off the walls. It was sort of amazing. He walked in, grabbed a loose corner and slowly peeled the carpet away from the sidewalls. Brute strength won. Once gone and out the door, a vacuum removed an army of dust mites and old glue. The surface was ready for the next stage.

Three years ago, May 31, 2017, to be exact, I purchased the Katahdin, a 1981 California Marshall trawler plus the 35 foot slip where she was moored in Marina 1, Santa Barbara, CA. Total cost of boat and slip-rounded up, including transfer fees-@$118,000.00. Immediately after that date, the “cost” associated with actually owning the Katahdin started to go up. First expense was a misbehaving head (think toilet), and after that first surprise, the collective cost that long term benign neglect adds to any project.

When I worked as housing consultant and colorist I would sometimes advise a client not to buy a home because it would “nickel and dime them to death”. Meaning the house would eat you up financially, in itty, bitty bites. Relentless, ongoing, continual expensive little bites. I have to laugh, because the Katahdin has been a “nickel and dimer” from the very beginning. Fix one part and another goes kaput. Without fail. Now I am now amused, but early days… not so much. First big problem. The head. It worked fine until I bought the boat, and then it didn’t. I am older and use the toilet three times a night. On average. Running a block to use the toilets in our marina. At 2:00 in the morning? Nope. That first head problem took almost three weeks to solve. Biggest challenge was actually figuring out what was wrong with head. Which… was a complete mystery. Followed by… getting replacement parts for a boat built in 1981. $1,000.00 later, the head worked, sort of. But it wasn’t until two years later-for another $1,110.00-was the problem actually solved. And by then every stinky part, from pump to valves, had been replaced. I have come to realize this process-the gradual solution- is normal. And takes a team of knowledgeable people to solve problems on older boats. A team of experts. My team consists of Jim Wulff, who is 80 and has been a mechanic since the Napoleonic Wars. He probably knows more than any five young mechanics put together. Jim, combined with David Lyon, younger and very knowledgeable, strong and eye candy cute, are my go to problem solving staff.

Issue number two. Benign neglect. Everywhere. Most of the trim on the Katahdin was either peeling, or had been sloppily recoated with a glossy finish. With no prep work to ready the surface, the new product was destined for failure. Probably one the most significant projects on the boat has been restoring the wood trim. West coast weather- relentless sun and wicked UV levels, salt air, pooing pigeons, chafing lines, and Noah’s Ark level rain storms- had taken a toll on every inch of wood. My original intent was to personally scrape, sand and redo the trim, but I quickly realized that task took skills and time I did not have. I hired local talent: Mike Lura, who spent months stripping, sanding and coating the exterior trim with Cetol Marine finish. Cost, around $6,000.00. Cash. For four coats of finish on all the windows, and most of the exterior trim. Worth. Every penny. Though not totally finished, enough has been done so my boat looks loved. No longer a wreck. And I love it when men-always men-walk by and sniff the newly finished trim. And smile. Is this sniff and smile for fresh marine finishes built into the gene pool?