Casting Loose.

Deciding to build a centerboard case into the old canoe was a case of opting to follow the dream rather than settle for a simple fix.. It was the fatal step beyond which I would continue to work to bring the canoe forward out of the dark and into the light of realization. I put it off for days and finally attacked it in a tentative and harassed sort of way. When the call comes, the builder is often reluctant to accept.

The obvious place for the centerboard was between the midships bulkhead ( itself necessary because I needed to place some lateral support here as I was going to remove the carrying yoke that had served that purpose) and the front seat. I also wanted to place the main mast just aft of the front seat rather than through the middle of it because I needed a full time functional seat for a second member of the crew and as a second rowing station. The canoe has a narrow slot down the centerline and that would serve for the mast step and the slot that the centerboard case would be glued into.
The case was glued up (I used West System epoxy with a variety of fillers throughout the project.) from two side pieces of half inch plywood ( previously coated on the inside faces with epoxy/graphite) and two three-quarter inch wide end pieces that projected slightly below so they would reach to the bottom of the slot. I then fiberglass wrapped the ends of the box to give strength and make it leak proof. To fit the box tightly into the slot , I planed the bottom edges and trial fitted until it was a tight fit. I mixed up a batch of thickened epoxy, and set the case down into the bed of epoxy and at the same time glued it vertically to the central bulkhead. Having fastened this into place with temporary screws (drywall screws work great for this) I placed two lengthwise support pieces on either side of the case against the bottom of the canoe and bent and clamped them into place with props sprung down from a beam overhead.

This all sounds ploddingly workmanlike, but words cannot describe the frenzy when the epoxy is mixed and pieces are being fitted into place. The final wild moment came when I realized that those two side logs had to be sprung into place into the about- to- cure epoxy and I had no way to clamp them. I unsuccessfully tried bricks as weights and then remembering how dorys are traditionally made with the bottom pressed into a curved rocker shape by props wedged down from an overhead beam. That saved the day.
For those who might think that I should have thought of this in advance, I can only reply that too much thinking in advance is dull, dull, dull and that while I may not gamble in Las Vegas or ski straight down precipitous slopes I do indulge in free-for-alls like this. Ah, how satisfying!

The final stage was cutting the hole through from the bottom of the canoe into the centerboard case. The messy bottom joint was exposed and had to be filed smooth, gaps filled, and fiberglass cloth folded in to make a strong leakproof joint between hull and case. To support the sides of the newly cut hole I glued hardwood strips and faired them into the keel. All this took a lot of time and fiddle and gobbled up a lot of epoxy.

By the time I completed the case, I was fully launched and happy. Things just moved ahead from there and the difficult start-up phase was passed successfully. Casting loose from the shore is the most difficult part of any journey.

Black Bottom.
A book on wooden kayak construction described the process of coating the bottom in a coat of epoxy mixed with graphite to give a hard, slippery surface. I copied this idea for Tillikum. I had used this mix on my dory to harden the high abrasion parts of the bottom to good effect, and needed to thicken up worn areas where the canoe had been run up on beaches. Once these parts had been toughened up, I painted on a single layer over the whole bottom. It will be much more likely now to withstand the wear and tear of ocean and river travel.

Centerboard rather than dagger board.
The canoe must be able to adjust instantly to very shallow water. A daggerboard must be lifted in advance of shallows or it will break or at least stop the canoe while a centerboard will simply slide back up into the case as it touches ground and then drop again when the depth increases. I also designed a rudder that would do the same. More on this subject later.

Sail plan.
Establishing the position of the centerboard and to some extent the rudder influenced the future positions of the mast(s) and sail(s) as the center of lateral resistance of the hull was now established. Each modification called up further ramifications and this I found very interesting. I do not play chess, but imagine the ability to visualize how each move fits into the whole game is part of the satisfaction. As an artist too, I am used to developing an image within an ever shifting set of parameters and bringing all (hopefully) to a harmonious outcome. Something I bring to boat building that is strictly my own, is my artist`s pleasure in pushing the limits and inventing on the fly.