
Summer is close, so it's time to take a hard look at your boat and see just what it needs to get it into good shape.
A walk around just about any marina reveals that boats fall into one of two categories: either high or low maintenance. High maintenance almost always means miles of timberwork lovingly covered in high-gloss varnish, acres of teak-laid decks and expensive stainless steel fittings gleaming in the sunshine.
The other end of the spectrum is the fibreglass vessel devoid of any timber at all. Unfortunately, this can lead to a boat with a lot less character.
Often the person who owns the latter type of boat has also owned the former at some stage and is now determined that the nightmare will not be repeated. That, sadly, is what boat ownership turns out to be for some people who purchase a vessel just dripping with tradition and brightwork without realising they had better be just dripping with money if they want to keep it looking good.
FORESTS OF TEAK
During the early eighties a lot of powerboats built in Asia were imported into this country. Whole forests of teak must have been felled to fit teak trim around every conceivable protrusion and escutcheon of those boats. You name it, it was surrounded with trim, all lovingly varnished to high gloss.
The presentation of these boats at the shows was stunning to say the least and contributed to sales in no small manner.
It was only after a year or so of ownership that it dawned on buyers just what they had let themselves in for, as ultraviolet inexorably degraded the varnish in an astonishingly short time.
People were staggered to learn that the minimum number of varnish coats - I repeat: minimum - was seven and that nine was better. Each coat had to be rubbed back by hand with ultra-fine paper before the next one was applied. The enormity of the task would daunt the staunchest believer in brightwork, and this was often the sole reason for boats going back on the market.
The result, as mentioned earlier, was the swing towards low-maintenance craft with absolutely no varnish whatsoever. These boats do solve the problem, even though they may conjure up images of high-gloss bathtubs.
Personally, I like a little brightwork on a boat. However, as with anything, it can be overdone, and that's why a good look at the boat can often reduce labour while retaining its ability to turn heads.
THE VARNISH CYCLE
First, let's look at varnish and the varnishing process. The modern product is almost always polyurethane, to which has been added various chemicals to enable it to combat the effects of ultraviolet light. Stains can also be added to colour the finish, but this is more often done when using varnish inside the boat rather than outside.
Urethane stretches as it dries and this produces a smooth, glossy finish. The first of two coats will merely fill up some of the grain in the timber. Rubbing lightly between coats with fine wet and dry sandpaper reduces the peaks in the surface and removes any dust that may have settled during the drying process.
The timber is varnished to preserve the natural appearance of the wood. The glossiest, richest, deepest varnish job I've ever seen was on a grand piano. It stayed that way because it was never exposed to the weather. If anyone were to suggest that the piano be kept outside, they'd be hauled off to the loony bin.
Possibly a lot of us boat owners belong in a loony bin anyway. We lovingly apply seven hand-rubbed coats of varnish to our boats' brightwork until the timber gleams, then we leave it out in all weather. Not surprisingly, it doesn't last long.
The directions on the back of the varnish tin can be misleading for the novice: words like 'tough' and 'resistance' are connected to others like 'ultraviolet' and 'chemicals' and a whole range of phrases that suggest great durability.
In my experience, the best you can hope for is six months before a freshly varnished surface will need a light rub back and the application of at least two coats. After doing this three or four times over a period of about two years, the original coats will show signs of becoming brittle. Cracking will start to develop, particularly where there are joins in the timber, and the weather will begin to penetrate under the surface, resulting in unsightly milky patches.
While spot repairs are possible, in my opinion they are a waste of time, as the whole job takes on a blotchy appearance. It does when I do it, anyway. So, with a sigh, I prepare to strip off the whole lot and start again.
REDUCING THE WORK
So now that we know how difficult it is to maintain a boat smothered in varnish, let's see if we can reduce the work.
Because the biggest enemy of brightwork by far is ultraviolet, simply covering the brightwork with canvas extends the life of the varnish by years. Like anything, this can be taken to extremes - I have seen some boats so protected with a variety of covers that the marine trimmer that did the job probably bought a Porsche from the profit.
Apart from the cost, another problem is that taking the boat out and coming home again necessitates the removal, storage and then replacement of all those damn covers. But if that's your cup of tea, go for it.
Personally, I couldn't be bothered. To my mind, reducing the workload is the better alternative, and this is what I have done on my boat.
When I first purchased my 32ft Grand Banks, it was dripping with varnish. I knew only too well that I wasn't dripping with money and wouldn't be able to maintain the status quo. So first, I stripped back the window surrounds and painted them with two-pack urethane paint. This meant the surrounds were much better protected from rot, because paint provides a better shield against the weather than varnish. Also, in my opinion, the appearance of the vessel was improved, as the windows were no longer highlighted.
I removed and stripped all the fussy trim, such as between the flybridge and the cabin, that Grand Banks use to cover moulding joins. No longer protected by varnish, this trim has weathered to a silver-grey colour. (It's kept clean by bleaching, a subject I will enlarge on in next month's article.)
This same process was applied to the capping rail and other items such as the grabrails. The only varnish retained was on the handrail and the transom.
The overall effect I find quite pleasing. As teak bleaches to a soft silver colour, like that found on driftwood, it contrasts nicely with the gloss varnish. To the purists this may sound like heresy, but I have maintained this system for nearly 10 years now, and it's definitely my cup of tea!
BACK TO SCRATCH
As I said earlier, about two years is the average life of brightwork before it must be stripped off and a full restoration commenced. The removal of the old varnish is as big a pain as applying it in the first place. Messy, as well.
In the old days it was all scraped off by hand using a sharp scraper. The best of these tools was a Skarston scraper with removable blades that were replaced when they became blunt. The life of these blades could be greatly extended by constant sharpening with a file. Make no mistake, scrapers must be sharp to do their job properly.
The advent of electric hot-air guns has largely done away with this method, although a scraper is still employed. The gun is brought close to the surface of the varnish, which quickly softens with the application of the heat.
I use a three-cornered scraper, kept very sharp with a file, and using this tool the softened varnish is removed from the surface of the wood.
Care must be exercised with the hot-air gun not to burn the timber. Care must also be taken with the scraper to ensure the wood is not damaged by scoring. If either of these two events happen, then the surface can be repaired relatively easily using a coarse sandpaper, but this is additional work and is best avoided.
The job is very messy and soon the water surrounding your boat will be covered in bits of scraped-off varnish, which will anger your neighbours, the Environmental Protection Agency, the owner of the marina, the local council, the maritime pollution authorities and quite possibly God himself, so do yourself a favour and use your head.
A simple solution is to have an assistant with a vacuum cleaner. Your assistant holds the nozzle close to the work face and captures the varnish particles as they are released from the surface.
When I first started messing around in boats, nobody cared about such things and the ocean was treated as one large sewer. Times and attitudes change ? in this case for the better.
SCRAPER ALERT
A word of caution at this point on the use of three-cornered scrapers. When they are put down, the upper part of the sharpened triangle points straight up. If placed on the deck, it's very easy to stand on, producing a wound that will require stitching, antibiotics, two weeks of painful limping, much vulgar language and a complete loss of interest in boat maintenance.
(If it sounds like I'm speaking from experience, it's because I am. This article is not entitled The Agony and the Ecstasy for nothing.)
After all the varnish has been removed, the timber is given a thorough sanding using a medium grade of paper, followed by a fine finishing grade. The whole boat is then washed down to remove all traces of wood dust from the boat as well as from the sanded timber, preventing the newly applied coat from becoming loaded with dust if the wind is blowing. This is a good time for a break to allow the boat to dry.
Some people apply varnish primer to the timber. I have never bothered and have not noticed any detriment; however, if your goal is to win the Australian Boat Varnishing Championship then follow all the instructions on the can to the letter. To all us lesser mortals, just whack the varnish on, although it does help to at least read the directions.
The selection of the brush is important, and the best guide to quality is the cost. If you enjoy stopping every few minutes to remove a hair as your cheapie moults like my cattle dog, get the cheapest brush you can find. Even better, use one of those disposable varieties and you'll have a ball.
RAIN AND DEW ALERT
When varnishing, put down plenty of drop sheets and try not to work in the wind, as flecks from the brush will be blown all over the place.
The enemy of a good finish is moisture, so obviously don't work if it looks like rain. Unfortunately, a heavy dew before the varnish has had time to fully cure will produce a milky blooming in the surface. This means all the work has been for nothing. It will have to be rubbed back and started again - more agony.
For the first couple of coats, I don't bother to wet rub between them. On a fine sunny day (for all you Victorians, we get them quite often here in Queensland), I manage two coats.
After the third, I wet rub using 1200 wet and dry to key the surface. You can feel the paper go 'slick' under your hand. This indicates a fine smooth surface. (Some experts thin the varnish at this point to enhance the flow off the brush, but I have never bothered.)
After the seventh coat - all these coats are needed to produce a coating thick enough to resist the effects of ultraviolet - the surface should have depth, super smoothness and an extremely high gloss.
The whole appearance of the boat will be improved and the satisfaction will be deep. This is the ecstasy.
Nothing compares with properly prepared and executed brightwork. If only it lasted a bit longer and was a bit easier to do ...