Ian Bamsey's Posts - Wharram Builders and Friends2024-03-28T09:57:56ZIan Bamseyhttp://wharrambuilders.ning.com/profile/IanBamseyhttp://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1957124858?profile=RESIZE_48X48&width=48&height=48&crop=1%3A1http://wharrambuilders.ning.com/profiles/blog/feed?user=3sffclhxxddvq&xn_auth=noWorld Map of Wharramstag:wharrambuilders.ning.com,2015-09-15:2195841:BlogPost:1358742015-09-15T08:49:41.000ZIan Bamseyhttp://wharrambuilders.ning.com/profile/IanBamsey
<p>Add your Wharram to this map of Wharrams. You'll need a Google account to do this.</p>
<p>Click here <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=206644359438705195048.0004ba56851de2b8e8007&msa=0" target="_blank">Google Map of Wharrams</a></p>
<p>Add your Wharram to this map of Wharrams. You'll need a Google account to do this.</p>
<p>Click here <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=206644359438705195048.0004ba56851de2b8e8007&msa=0" target="_blank">Google Map of Wharrams</a></p>First Cruisetag:wharrambuilders.ning.com,2014-04-15:2195841:BlogPost:1163552014-04-15T13:30:00.000ZIan Bamseyhttp://wharrambuilders.ning.com/profile/IanBamsey
<p>Back in October 2013 when Gratitude went into her wintering barn for renovation, the spring seemed too far away and there was plenty of time for all the work. Come March, much progress had been made and a date was fixed with a friend for our <em>sea trials</em>.</p>
<p>I'd bought Gratitude, my first sailing boat, at the end of last year after borrowing her for a few test sails. There was a bit of work to do, but essentially she was sea worthy. As the winter wore on, the paint was stripped…</p>
<p>Back in October 2013 when Gratitude went into her wintering barn for renovation, the spring seemed too far away and there was plenty of time for all the work. Come March, much progress had been made and a date was fixed with a friend for our <em>sea trials</em>.</p>
<p>I'd bought Gratitude, my first sailing boat, at the end of last year after borrowing her for a few test sails. There was a bit of work to do, but essentially she was sea worthy. As the winter wore on, the paint was stripped away and problems emerged. Nothing serious, but all added to the workload. I built new platforms with a bigger section to take the fuel tank. The mast was rotten, so an alloy tube was procured. Sections of the gunwales were wet or rotten. An old hole was to be repaired.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1830084804?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="450" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1830084804?profile=RESIZE_480x480" width="450" class="align-center"/></a></p>
<p><em>This was two weeks before launch!</em></p>
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<p>About 6 weeks back, I realised time was tight and planned out the remaining work. A task list was generated and spread across the calendar. Each day went by and more tasks were pushed down the line. They stacked up ominously against my deadline. With two weeks to go, I warned my friend that I might not make it. With a week to go, I thought there was a chance, but could he come down early to help with the work? By the Wednesday, the Friday's departure had become Saturday's, Thursday's rigging had become Friday's launch and rig.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975454566?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="550" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975454566?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="550" class="align-center"/></a></p>
<p>On Wednesday, I drove the 12 miles back from the boat to Exeter to collect my friend who had arrived from Yorkshire. We grabbed a few things and returned to the boat and applied a coat of paint to the decks. We worked through the evening then drove back to Exeter and began work on the mast head which was to be built from the old mast, inserted into a new 6 meter alloy tube. We epoxied up the mast parts towards 11pm and went to bed. Thursday we painted the decks, beams and platforms. We had the space-heater on flat-out to get the drying times down. Anti-slip went on last. We left the barn at 2am only to return the next morning at 9am.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975456797?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="550" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975456797?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="550" class="align-center" style="padding: 5px;"/></a></p>
<p>The plan for Friday was to assemble the boat on the Exe estuary from around 10:30am at low tide. By the time we finished assembling the mast, placing the boat name vinyls etc., it was late. We made the estuary around 1:30pm where the tide looked to be a mile off. As you can imagine, we were soon up to our knees in water trying to lash the beams. But when it comes to the crunch, luggage straps will save you every time. Temporary construction complete, the mast on board, and we were away off down the river to the mooring. We had real fun with the brand new dingy which was under inflated and only the ends of the paddles to make way. But we made it; we were on the water.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975458899?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="450" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975458899?profile=RESIZE_480x480" width="450" class="align-left" style="padding: 10px;"/></a></p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975461246?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="750" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975463352?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="436" class="align-right" style="padding: 10px;" height="578"/></a></p>
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<p>Saturday was rigging and departing day. Again, so many jobs plus shopping for provisions. We beached the boat and worked hard all day. Come 5pm we were sort of ready and the car was now in 6 inches of water. We packed down loaded the tool box and remaining fittings, parked the car and fired up the outboard. We motored out of Exmouth with the cordless screwdriver working hard to fit cleats that jammers. 15 minutes later, up went the main and caught and increasing breeze. 30 minutes later we had on the waterproofs in a force 3/4 and the quartering waves washed through the front where the trampoline is suppose to be. On one gust I dumped the wind and wondered if the mast epoxy was really cured!</p>
<p>We pulled into Brixham marina as the evening light began to fade. Being a cat' we needed a wide birth, and we were duly placed amongst the luxury yachts. We set up the temporary tarpaulin tent and <em>dressed</em> for dinner! </p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975465649?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="550" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975465649?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="550" class="align-center" style="padding: 10px;"/></a></p>
<p>The next morning the sunrise had taken away the panic pace of the previous 2 weeks and we finished a few jobs in normal time. We laced the front tramp as the sun's warmth came through. We set out for Dartmouth.</p>
<p>Sunday's sail down to Dartmouth was in a light breeze with a short motor. The weather was perfect as we entered the river mouth. The wind came in behind and styled up passed the Royal Dart Yacht Club with the cruising chute raised high dragging us up river.</p>
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<p>We drifted up further on the tide and calculated that we could make Tuckenhay in time and be away on the morning ebb. We called the pub and booked the pontoon mooring and a table. Perfection.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975469064?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="550" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975469064?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="550" class="align-left" style="padding: 10px;"/></a></p>
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<p>After a heavy night, we were woken by a glorious dawn chorus and what seemed like a fight between the ducks and geese. The sun rose as we drifted away. The smell of our cooking sausages hung in the mist as we made our way down river.</p>
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<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975471105?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="650" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975471105?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="650" class="align-full" style="padding: 10px;"/></a></p>
<p>We eat breakfast at Dittisham and drank coffee passing a huge American yacht coming in to the river. We put our life jackets on as we passed the lifeboat towing in a yacht with a failed engine. We set sail into the wind and wondered if we could beat our way all the way home. We got to a tack that would pass Berry Head by 11am. The wind then duly dropped and from then we motored and sailed a little.</p>
<p>We made the mooring in the Exe at high water by 6:30pm. We were sunburnt, tired, hungover, happy and afloat. Happy days.</p>
<p></p>Here's the starttag:wharrambuilders.ning.com,2014-02-02:2195841:BlogPost:1132292014-02-02T23:00:00.000ZIan Bamseyhttp://wharrambuilders.ning.com/profile/IanBamsey
<p>The boat, a Wharram Tiki 21 called Gratitude, was finally purchased back in November 2013 from a friend. Kindly, he'd allowed us to borrow it during the summer. This gave us a chance to try it out, and for everyone to get comfortable with sailing. I was in no doubt, but my small boys and Monika don't always see adventure opportunities as I do. I always knew I'd love it.</p>
<p>We'd had several…</p>
<p>The boat, a Wharram Tiki 21 called Gratitude, was finally purchased back in November 2013 from a friend. Kindly, he'd allowed us to borrow it during the summer. This gave us a chance to try it out, and for everyone to get comfortable with sailing. I was in no doubt, but my small boys and Monika don't always see adventure opportunities as I do. I always knew I'd love it.</p>
<p>We'd had several <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=DIVy2EFfKZ4&list=UU_dwKMKD9c2BRfcx1uzjIYw" target="_blank">great days out in September</a>. Some were better than others. But the less straight forward excursions were the ones I secretly liked. Arriving at the <a href="https://www.google.co.uk/maps/preview/@50.6810052,-3.4654288,18z" target="_blank">quay in Topsham</a> on the Exe and 8:30pm in fading light, is my kind of a day. My friend, <i>Gratitude's</i> owner, seemed to often be "just" passing the quay on our return. He was, of course, just being friendly and wondering if the boat and its crew were safe and sound. And, what better excuse to have a beer in the Lighter Inn and share the day's story.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With the deal done, the cheque was handed over, and the Met Office forecast a huge storm (Jude). I had nightmares. I foresaw owning a pile of matchwood; my first sailing boat, wrecked the first day. At that time it had a temporary home at Hannaford's Quay in Topsham, a drying quay with a wall to one side. I set out the day before <i>Jude</i> and nailed that boat to the river and sounding walls.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975454120?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="650" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975454120?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="650" class="align-center" style="padding: 5px;"/></a></p>
<p>It wasn't going anywhere. I went down to the quay the morning following the storm amid radio reports of coastal disasters. Gratitude was parked in scoured trenches of sand and stones around its keels. Its lines were tangled with detritus and the beach was strewn with driftwood and plastic. The boat was just fine.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975456299?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="650" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975456299?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="650" class="align-center" style="padding: 5px;"/></a></p>
<p>The storm was a scare. A drying quay for the winter is a clearly a recipe for trouble, and so the plan was to move the boat to my brother's farm for a warm dry barn layup. My timing was perfect. Another bad storm passed the night before I set out. I left the house in the dark and arrived to find the quay awash with debris, but the boat was afloat. Seeing I had time before the ebb would leave me aground I waited in the car until there was a little light. Making an over optimistic assessment of the conditions, I finally jumped in, up to my waist in cold water, wood, plastic, foam and various dead things. I waded 15 feet out and clambered aboard. No going back now. The engine started and I slipped the lines I'd previously prepared. I reversed through the puff of two stroke and I was away.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975458257?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="650" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975458257?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="650" class="align-center"/></a></p>
<p>It was cold, the light weak, but it was exhilarating. I motored down the river alone, no other sign of activity. After all, it was still only around 6:00am after a storm. I soon arrived at the slipway I'd inspected the previous day. The surprise was how big the tide was. The place was awash. Worse still there was all manner of wood (trees!) washed into the corner. Worse still, the wind was now picking up as the sun's effect took hold. Think! Move away? Go back and find a spare mooring? You've already failed your Day Skipper practical -- you should have gone back home to bed!</p>
<p>I motored away with a plan to lay up and wait for the wind to drop. The wind was by now screaming onto the shore and there was still too much water. I'd planned to beach, not get pinned against a wall. No sooner had I moved off did I begin to doubt how much fuel I had. I DID know the tank was full, but at that moment I could only see myself adrift in half light with a gale across the river. I peered into the black tank. I turned back for the slipway.</p>
<p>Approaching the slipway I could see some stones. The water had dropped a little. Running up I prepared the anchors. I would drop them, approach the wall where I knew I could attach a line, then kedge off between the line and the anchors and wait for the ebb. Yer right.</p>
<p>Soon enough I'm in the water pushing the boat off the wall against what now is a gusting force 6. The motor had snagged the anchor line and things were cascading out of control. Let's face it, I don't know what I'm doing, do I? But I've been in some serious waterborne scraps before, and I felt some kind of perverse calm; after all, I'm not upside down. Somehow I found a washed up tree with the keel. The wind dropped as fast as it came and things were beginning to straighten out. Within 10 minutes I was on the bank, the boat was on tight lines and the water was dropping fast. And, that wind had gone.</p>
<p>I walked back up the half mile along the Goat Walk towards the car dripping wet and looking ship wrecked. "Morning", acknowledged dog walkers who I caught looking back at me like some sort of drowned rat. I returned home, showered and climbed back into bed. "How'd it go", said Monika. "Oh Fine", I said.</p>
<p>Later that morning, my brother and I dismantled Gratitude. The weather gave no clue to the dawn drama.</p>
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<tbody><tr><td><br/> <a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975459990?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="400" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975459990?profile=RESIZE_480x480" width="400" class="align-left"/></a></td>
<td><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975461724?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="400" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975461724?profile=RESIZE_480x480" width="400" class="align-right"/></a></td>
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<p>Months have gone by. The boat came out and made its way up onto Dartmoor to its winter home.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975463486?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="750" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975463486?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="750" class="align-center" style="padding: 5px;"/></a></p>
<p>I'm only planning on painting it once, so I'm doing it properly. I've begun stripping it back to the gel coat. This has revealed a bit of a hole, but I've patched bigger in a kayak and finished the river.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975464040?profile=original" target="_self"><img width="650" src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975464040?profile=RESIZE_1024x1024" width="650" class="align-center"/></a></p>
<p>The mast turns out to be a problem. It's a long story, and I won't go on, but it's no surprise it's got this way. I stood on the end and it broke. I'm amazed we sailed it and it didn't collapse. I've already bought an 6 meter aluminium tube and will use the good bits of wooden mast to make end pieces. I still felt some sorrow when I made the fatal cuts and consigned the old wooden mast to history. Someone put a lot of work into it, back in the 80s. At least parts will live on, inserted into the less attractive, rot free aluminium.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975465877?profile=original" target="_self"><img src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1975465877?profile=original" width="475" class="align-center" style="padding: 5px;"/></a></p>
<p>Back home, the garage has been cleared and cleaned for the construction of new platforms. I'd put my foot through one during the single handed take out adventure described above. England in January is not a warm place. With my heater flat out, I could only manage 10 deg C. Not the 18 degs minimum for epoxy, so I've cleared our small glass conservatory. The under floor heating wasn't working as it hadn't been used in years, due to the pointlessness of heating a single glazed glass box. I flushed the water pipes through and after 8 hours the concrete slab warmed and I finally achieved the tropically temperatures required for the resins.</p>
<p><a href="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1930098731?profile=original" target="_self"><img src="http://storage.ning.com/topology/rest/1.0/file/get/1930098731?profile=original" width="475" class="align-center"/></a></p>
<p>Many years back I built kayaks. The first at the age of 16. I even worked in a glassing shop. Still, coating and laminating ply for the mid platform was a learning experience. I mixed too much epoxy (yes I know now!). This stuff goes miles! I coated everything and wasted some in an overheating pot. It goes off way quicker that polyester!</p>
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<p>I just hope it all works out.</p>
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