Bathrooms
Ok,
let's get something straight. Bathrooms on boats are
not called "bathrooms." They're called "heads."
The reason for this is because in the old days of wooden
sailing ships (think "Pirates of the Caribbean"), the crew
would go to the front of the ship (the "head") to relieve
themselves. Believe me when I say that Johnny Depp
and his merry band of supernatural pirate friends would be
in major, MAJOR trouble with the U.S. Coast Guard if they
were to relieve themselves in this manner today (well,
unless they're at least three miles off shore...in which
case anything goes as far as bodily function discharges
are concerned...but then Disney has its own set of rules
about that sort of thing).
Modern
boats are equipped with what a landlubber would call a
"bathroom." Most of them have accoutrements that are
familiar to any Westerner; a sink with one or more
faucets, a toilet, and perhaps even a shower (or, at a
minimum, a hose connected to a shower head). What
will most likely be missing, however, is an actual "bath."
For this reason, and for the sake of tradition, we'll
refer to this area as the boat's "head" from
this point forward.
The Toilet
(a.k.a. the John, Crapper,
Commode, Throne, Can...)
I
enjoy inviting non-boaters aboard and watching them
interact with various amenities on board. They
remind me of my own naiveté when I was new to boating.
Countless people have asked to use my "bathroom," and I
happily point them in the right direction.
Invariably, they disappear behind the door for a few
seconds and then pop out again. "Hey! How does
this thing work?" they ask. I smile knowingly (and
sometimes, perhaps, a little condescendingly...depending
on the situation). I then patiently explain to my
adult friends "how to go potty" aboard a boat.
You
see, a boat's head isn't like a toilet found in a house or
apartment. First, the toilet will be much smaller.
If you've ever used the bathroom in a trailer home (you
know, those atrocities that God smites with tornadoes all
the time), then you probably already know that trailer
toilets are smaller than normal. Well, hold on to
your britches! The toilets found on most boats are
even smaller than the ones you'll find in your
local trailer park! This doesn't necessarily cause
any problems, unless you're a big guy like me. In
which case, it's simply not very comfortable to sit on a
boat toilet for very long. That's one reason why I
take my newspaper and head to the shower house at the
marina. They have full-size toilets there, which
make for a comfortable reading environment.
While
the toilets may be smaller on the boat, they certainly
have the appearance of being complicated to operate.
Boat toilets have multiple hoses, valves, and pumps that
are often exposed (for easy maintenance). While it
might resemble some sort of -medieval torture chair,
ey!
How the hell do you use this thing?!?" Oh,
how I relish this
The
first year of owning Candide, I did nothing to the
brightwork. This
was simply out of ignorance.
It looked great for several months, but the shine
slowly faded away and the varnish eventually started to crack
and peel. Candide
looked terrible! Sort
of like me when I get a sunburn and my skin starts to fall
off in thin chunks!
I was
told on numerous occasions by my fellow liveaboards and
even strangers passing by that it was a shame to let such
a boat deteriorate. Eventually,
I decided to completely redo the brightwork.
This was no easy undertaking, and I swore to never
let it get in this condition again.
With brightwork, you see, it simply can’t be
repaired once it gets past a certain point.
The varnish must be completely removed all the way
to bare wood. Here’s
what had to be done:
- Using
a heat gun and a sharp scraper (glass from a window
pane works much better than expensive brightwork
scrapers from a marina store), slowly and methodically
remove the old varnish.
Heat it up with the gun, and it will start to
blister. While
it’s still hot, use the scraper to peel it away.
You must be very careful not to slip and gouge
the wood. If
you do, you’ll spend a lot of unnecessary time
sanding.
- Using
150 grain sandpaper, sand the area you just
scraped.
- Using
250 grain sandpaper, re-sand the area you just sanded
with the more coarse paper.
- Using
300 grain sandpaper, turn the wood into a surface as
smooth as glass.
- Remove
any dust with a cloth dipped in mineral spirits.
- Now
you’re ready to apply some varnish.
Mix the varnish with thinner (50 / 50) and
apply to the surface.
Repeat this twice, waiting 24 hours between
coats.
- Apply
more varnish (this time 75% varnish with 25% thinner).
- At
long last, you’re ready to apply straight varnish to
the wood. If
you want it to last, you should apply at least 12-14
coats. Don’t
forget to wait 24 hours between those coats!
Now
you’re ready to scrape and sand the next section of your
project. Welcome
to the wonderful world of brightwork!
Of
course, if I hadn’t neglected my brightwork from the
beginning, this process would have been much less arduous.
As it was, it took about 400 hours’ labor and
several gallons of Ephiphanes High Gloss varnish (at about
$120 per gallon) to complete the task.
I lost count of the pieces of sandpaper used, but
it had to be close to a thousand.
Never, NEVER again!!!
Today,
I properly maintain my brightwork, which is a lot easier
than stripping it down and starting from scratch.
Every week, I pick a manageable bit of brightwork
to attack and do the following:
- Sand
with 300 grain sandpaper until the varnish has a milky
appearance.
- Apply
a coat of thinned varnish (75% varnish / 25% thinner)
and wait 24 hours.
- Apply
two coats of straight varnish, waiting 24 hours
between each coat.
That’s
it! No
scraping, no heat gun, no blood, sweat or tears! It is, however, absolutely constant maintenance.
Just like mowing the lawn!
If all
this doesn’t sound like your type of thing, my advice is
to not purchase a boat with brightwork.
You won’t be happy with the way she looks after a
year’s neglect!
Note
on type of varnish used on Candide:
I know that some of my readers cringed when they read that
I use Epiphanes High Gloss varnish on Candide. Why
on Earth would he do that to himself? Epiphanes is
hard to repair, expensive, and doesn't last nearly as long
as some of the other varnishes on the market! This
is all very true...
However,
it is my opinion that Ephiphanes provides a stunningly
beautiful finish that if properly maintained, will look
great for years. Originally, Candide's brightwork
was done with Sikkens Cetol, which is a pigmented varnish
that has somewhat of an orange hue. Cetol lasts for
a long, long time because its pigment helps block the
sun's UV rays (kind of like a combination of suntan lotion
and varnish). This pigment, though, hides the
natural grain of the wood. Sure, the grain is still
visible, but it's not nearly as bright and shiny as
several coats of Epiphanes.
Captain's
Spar Varnish is even better than Epiphanes. In fact,
I use Spar Varnish on Candide's cabin sole (interior
floor). It gives the floor an absolutely brilliant
finish that almost always invokes the first comments from
new visitors about the boat's interior. The only
problem with Spar Varnish is it's expense. It's
nearly twice the cost of Epiphanes!
Regardless
of which type of varnish you choose to use on your boat, I
can almost guarantee that your neighbors won't approve
(unless, of course, they're using the exact same make and
brand). You'll find that varnish is a very personal
subject that elicits strong emotions from everyone who
uses it. My advice is to experiment with a few
brands, choose one that you like, and ignore the comments
from other brightwork-lovers in the marina.
Deck
Scrubbing
For
some reason, boats tend to be painted mostly white on the
surface. If
you live near a bridge or airport, you might be surprised
at how quickly it will become dirty.
If you don’t make your friends remove their shoes
before coming aboard, it will get dirty even quicker (and
scrubbing away scuff marks left by black-soled shoes is
absolutely no fun at all)!
To
scrub Candide's decks, I use a toxic concoction of Wisk
laundry detergent, ammonia, and water.
WARNING—if you choose to use the same formula, do
NOT breath the mixture!
It’s nasty.
The ammonia kills the black mold that grows in the
grain of the teak decks.
The Wisk breaks down the surface oils and helps the
water carry away the dirt.
By the way, if you do have teak decks, always scrub
against the grain of the wood.
This is not the easiest way to scrub, but it will
help ensure that you don’t dig out the “soft matter”
of the teak with the bristles of the brush.
This, in turn, will make your teak decks last a lot
longer!
Holding
Tank
A
boat’s “holding tank” is, in landlubber terms, its
septic tank. By
law, when you go to the toilet within three miles of
shore, this tank will hold your feces, urine, and toilet
paper….and NOTHING else!
Never put anything down the toilet other than these
three things, or you’ll be in for serious (and nasty)
trouble when you clog the pipes leading to the holding
tank. Some
liveaboards, in fact, don’t even allow toilet paper down
the porcelain throne.
Instead, they keep a special trashcan for the
paper. This
is a little radical for me, so I tend to flush everything
and it eventually winds up in the boat’s holding tank.
Eventually,
the holding tank will become full and must be emptied.
Many marinas have special “pump out” facilities
that literally suck out the contents of the tank.
The number of times you have to have this done
depends on a few variables; the size of the tank, the
amount of waste you will be storing, and your personal
tolerance for foul odors.
In general, I empty the holding tank about seven
times per year. This
involves moving Candide to the fueling area at my marina
and asking them to pump out the tank.
Many marinas provide this service for free to their
tenants. Other
marinas have mobile pumping facilities, and can empty your
tank while she’s in her slip.
Many
liveaboards complain about the noxious odor emanating from
the ship’s toilet.
Personally, I don’t have this problem because I
am very methodical about flushing the toilet.
The trick is to flush (pull the handle and pump) at
least ten times after urinating, and at least 20 times
after a bowel movement.
This means that Candide has to be pumped out more
often, but it ensures that my head doesn’t have
offensive odors.
Water
Tanks
Unlike
a house, boats should NOT be hooked up directly to city
water. Instead,
you should plan on filling the inboard water tanks from
time to time. When
they drain, simply fill them again with a hose connected
to a dockside water spigot.
It is
true that many liveaboards use a pressure valve (available
at Walmart for less than $5.00) to connect directly to
city water. They
simply connect a water hose from the dock to their water
tanks and enjoy an unlimited water supply on board.
Unfortunately, they run a huge risk of valve
failure. In
the four years I’ve lived aboard, two boats at my marina
have sunk in their slips because the pressure valves
failed (both times it happened, the owners were out of
town on business). My
recommendation is to fill the tanks, disconnect the hose,
and enjoy your limited supply of water.
It’s simply not worth the risk of sinking your
vessel for the convenience of having direct access to city
water.
Candide
holds 100 gallons of fresh water in two separate tanks (if
you’re looking for a boat to buy, it is a big plus to
have more than one water tank.
If you’re out sailing and a tank springs a leak,
you’ll have a backup). In general, this water lasts for about five weeks before I
have to top off. It
should be noted, though, that I almost never shower on the
boat. I
prefer to use the marina showers where there’s an
infinite supply of water.
Plus, I don’t have to deal with mildew in the
boat’s head (or whiskers in the sink). I strongly recommend this policy.
Brass
Polishing
This
should go without saying, but as you look at boats for
sale, many of them have perfectly shiny brass portals,
binnacles, clocks, barometers, etc.
Like brightwork, that perfect shine won’t last
without constant polishing.
Because Candide could pass for a vessel launched
100 years ago, I tend to tell people that I don’t keep
up the “polished brass” because I paid a significant
amount of money to have all of the brass and bronze on
board professionally “antiqued.”
That finish isn’t due to neglect…it’s
fundamental to the ambiance of such a traditional vessel.
This, generally, shuts people up about the
condition of my brass. Thank God for
the general public's gullibility!
So, I
don’t polish brass on board. In my opinion, Candide looks just as regal with green-tinted
brass fixtures. It’s
a constant battle to keep brass polished, and I just
don’t have the time (or the desire) to be bothered with it.
I have neighbors, though, who do polish their brass.
According to them, Brasso polish works best.
Last year, a group of these folks got together and
presented me with a can of the stuff for Christmas.
Liveaboards definitely know how to drop hints!
Nonetheless, since labor wasn’t included with the
gift, the unopened can is stored with my other cleaning
materials.
Please
drop me a line at:
robert@sleepingwithoars.com
©
2007 by Robert Doty
