Please visit our home site at www.TRILOBOATS.com.

Anke and I live aboard WAYWARD, and wrote about it's design and construction at ABargeInTheMaking.blogspot.com.

Access to the net comes and goes, so I'll be writing in fits and spurts.Please feel free to browse the archives, leave comments where you will and write... I'll respond as I can.

Fair winds!

Dave and Anke
triloboats swirly gmail daughter com

Showing posts with label RePosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label RePosts. Show all posts

Monday, April 13, 2026

Guest Post: MARY H by Chris George

 

MARY H
All photos supplied by Chris George


Lord, it was day and night and night an day work when in season!

- Some Old Salt


MARY H
  Guest Post by Chris George

In 2022 Massachusetts announced a small business grant for Green Innovation and Climate Resiliency in the commercial seafood sector. I won the grant and built a scow for my shellfish farm. Having read the Triloboat Blog for years, I had formed the idea that a sailing scow could be useful. The book Trade Winds by Christiaan de Beukelaer implanted the idea of using sail, and maybe electric, to power my work on the farm for climate reasons. The idea was born and I received $25,000 to build and work the boat. She is named the MARY H, after my wife, and her mission is to carry and deploy aquaculture gear and pick up oyster and quahog seed and drop off harvests to a hatchery facility about one mile away across part of Cape Cod Bay.

The design already existed in Howard I. Chapelle’s classic American Small Sailing Craft as the Cape Cod Bay Pound-Net Scow. In the old sailing days, these boats mainly fished herring - and fished the species out! They look like the TRILOBOAT StudyPLAN SANDBOX, but evolved slightly curved sheer lines helping with the “roll to the sea, as there often is on the Cape shore” and historically carried a pile driver. I sent to the office of ship plans at the Smithsonian and for $60 they sent me a tube full of diagrams of old scows -including Great Lakes types - along with Chapelle’s lines, taken off in Provincetown in the 1940s. To start I had Dave’s blog, Chapelle’s book and an awesome picture I found on the internet of a model built locally off the same plan, credit Rob Napier. 

The original boat in the plan is 36’ and I determined for the scope of the project, and town mooring regulations, to scale the build to 20’ - though I did wonder if proportions would get weird later on. So off this poster-sized plan I made a table in my notebook with an engineering ruler and scaled all the points of measurement for 20’. I also set about making an 8’ mock up with a couple scrap veneer plywood sheets and a cardboard model. Making the model was fun just tracing the plan onto cardboard and adding a chopstick mast and paper sails; at that size my old G.I. Joes look like a person of 5’4’’ height. 

To build the boat I had written some pay into the funding to hire skilled help. I hired a friend of mine, a retired roofer and now bricolage artist with whom I had already worked on a few building projects. The first thing we did was to locate a tree for the mast and let it cure for about a year. It’s a beautiful mast! We found a very straight white pine of about 24’ in the woods on a neighbor’s property. Stripped it with a machete (held like a spoke shave) and then coated it with wood preservative and hung it in my garage. 

Severely squeezed into my garage, the actual assembly and building went straight down the lines of “Instant Boats.” Dynamite Payson virtually dictated the techniques that I would modify. Cutting out the main pieces from plywood was most of the early work. I referred to the notebook table a lot and because the math was simpler to convert inches in decimal (remember the engineering ruler), I made sure to make an extra column for the conversion back to 1/16th inches for my measurements on plywood, transcribing the height of the sheer above bottom. The one caveat is that this measurement required another column in the table because the Pythagorean theorem had to be applied to account for the flare of the hull as the Chapelle plan just shows a profile view. No lofting though! A Kreg brand T-square was used constantly. I made a useful misstep while building the mockup that helped me realize to account for flare because I paid a printer to just proportionally enlarge the plan and I used it like a template. When assembling the mockup (which I may still employ as a standup paddleboard) using stitch and glue with zip ties, it felt scrunched down. This effect was not noticeable at the tiny size of the model. The actual cross section of MARY H is 5’ across the bottom with a 5’6’’ beam on deck. 




The winter months were spent in the garage with a space heater cutting and edge joining the plywood with epoxy and fiberglass. The gunwales were constructed in this way as well as five transverse bulkheads for holding the structure together like a ladder. Striking the fair curve of the bow and stern were the most ancient and nautical feeling part of the process. It was accomplished by laying the measurements on the plywood with nails and bending a piece of PVC edging around them. The curve was hand cut by eye with a buzz saw through the skill of my roofer friend. 



Building a boat was a lot to ask of my family, three children and one an infant. I did a lot of work after bedtime into the night and tried to involve the children as much as possible. One problem spot occurred while attaching the bottom to the sides for tape and glue. We decided to attach the bottom with the boat upright, bending the kerfed bow and stern up with shims and two-by-fours at both ends. The shape of the boat would be held in place for gluing with bar clamps and screws edgewise above the waterline. The deadflat was easy enough and all joints were bonded with epoxy fillets and fiberglass strips. But the ends had to be done in one fell swoop laboriously levering up the ends of the boat like flaps over the piles of shims while running around to make everything even as sealant set between the seams. We went way over time and things were starting to fail as my wife pulled in with all the kids. Seeing them all it was such a sacrifice not to be able to care for my baby at that time. But I left it in the care of my friend and somehow he finished the bottom single handedly. 

With the hull still upright I built the centerboard box up out of clear pine boards and more marine plywood, splurging on bronze screws. Now looking boatlike, I got a group of friends together to help flip the hull over onto its transoms for sheathing the bottom. All were promised fresh clams or oysters. I sheathed the entire hull on the outside only with one layer of thick fiberglass cloth bedded in epoxy. Once painted the same crew helped me flip the boat again onto a trailer which I picked up reasonably from the USACOE via the GSA, a good resource. The garage doors were popped off the hinges and the boat was carried out by hand. I had lined the trailer with an old foam mattress that I saved for this purpose so she would have a soft landing onto the rollers. 



Outside in the Spring I built deck stringers out of clear pine strapping and built the mast step of extra fir from the skeg. The boat was filled with 100 empty soda bottles for buoyancy with some sealed plastic water cooler carboys for good measure. The deck was cut from the same ½’’ marine plywood as the rest of the boat and laid as efficiently as I could manage. Between every seam I shot marine sealant or sometimes silicone caulk. A somewhat big mistake was not better sheathing the deck somehow because it leaks during rains. It has to be pumped out after rain and storms now while on the mooring. The hull is tight however so the water inside is “fresh.” One splurge was for EVA foam faux wood decking. Rolls of this stuff were moderately expensive but are a big facet of the historical look, and napably soft. Many people have stopped by the boat and remarked they thought these were actual planks. Rub rails are made of super cheap highly sacrificial lengths of furring strip.



Rigging is piecemeal. I got about 100’ each of tan synthetic rope for the halyards and great thick faux hemp nylon rope for the main sheet, also a historical touch. I made a forestay with hardware store steel wire and shackles. Chafing gear is cut garden hose. The sail was made at a sailmaker in Falmouth, Massachusetts. The proportions are kind of weird as the boom is a real deck sweeper. It will help to reef when I sail the boat more in earnest. At this point she sailed down wind, in the lightest winds three times in the Summer and Fall of 2025. Yet, when I put the sail up, down wind, in the lightest wind, it is still hard to deny we are under sail. And that feels great! I am looking at a potentially life long learning curve so there is plenty of time to perfect it. For electric propulsion she hangs two five horsepower German Torqeedo engines off the stern with some Chinese ePropulsion stick engines for backup.

MARY H now sits on the hard waiting for the 2026 season coming up at the end of March. All the people who helped were essential: a landowner letting us search for the mast, friends and relatives who flipped the boat or shot screws or gave friendly advice, authors - I owe them all a ride or at least some oysters. Spiritually, there have been few journeys as rewarding for me as building this boat. At the Christening, the bottle was smashed by the real Mary H.




Expenses

Dave, here. Chris provided his cost accounting under the grant in response to requests in the comment section. His itemized list can be read HERE. Please click on the spreadsheet image for a more legible pop-up.






Monday, January 21, 2019

Guest Post: SpringShip Fundraiser

Guest Post by David Reece
(Shown with family)


Greetings Triloboats Readers! You may have read my blog, Our Square Trailer Sailor, featured on the right hand side of this page. In it, I chronicle the construction of a 24 foot trailerable boat, CORNCAKE.

While it was not one of Dave's “official” designs, I feel it is every bit a Triloboat. As these build blogs often do, it slowed way down after the maiden voyage and pretty much stopped with me mothballing her and taking the whole family away to South America.





Now that we have been back for awhile, there are several new pursuits afoot. CORNCAKE is getting a rig, the kids are helping me build a rowing skiff for their own use, and I have a new and exciting job. This last is the reason I asked Dave and Anke to let me write a post on their blog.

In the disoriented mental fog that is readjustment to stateside life, I somehow I blundered into a job teaching at Springhouse Community School. Springhouse is a small private school, here in the mountains of Southwest Virginia, where we live.

I was hired on to run a semester-long boatbuilding program that I have dubbed “SpringShip.” In SpringShip, I serve two roles. Two days a week, I lead a group of students in building a yet unnamed boat, hopefully the first in a series. The rest of the week, I co-teach a class that teaches Math and Science through the lens of boat building and sailing, with a touch of nautical culture thrown in by literature and the singing of sea shanties.


Click HERE to donate
(to project described below)


The Class

Together with Chris Wolf, my faithful sidekick (just kidding, I'm the sidekick), we are taking the kids through an educational Odyssey. The voyage begins with scaling, where the class divides into four groups. Each group is charged with building a cardboard model of Phil Bolger's CANARD, a bare bones flatiron skiff. The catch is that each group is assigned a different finished length for their model, from which they must determine a scale factor which they will use to determine all the other dimensions of their craft. This gives them a real-world application for solving equations and an experiential understanding of scale.





In phase II, we move into building sails. Each group makes a Leg O' Mutton sail to fit their variously sized masts. The catch, once again, is that they are all given the same surface area for their sails and must solve for the height of the triangle to get their particular boom length. The sails are lashed on to the masts, complete with shaping dart, sewn by a sewing machine-handy student. In this phase, they get real cozy with the Pythagorean theorem, manipulating variables in a surface area equation, and solving equations with exponents.

Once all the sails were bent on, complete with mini, functioning sheets and snotters (no reefing, we like to live dangerously), we lashed the boats onto the arms of a free-spinning carousel, eight feet across. We were blessed with a windy day and the model boats fairly flew around their circular course, tacking and gybing through all the points of sail in a most seamanlike fashion. This makes a segue for us to explore Bernoulli's principle and aerodynamic lift.




Once they were warmed up on miniature sails, we went right into full sized sail making. As of this writing, they have finished the jib and mizzen of the full sized boat that is being built in the shop. Stay tuned for further exploration of buoyancy, hull speed and more!




The Boat Shop

Springhouse being about the size of a modest dwelling, there was no place to build a boat on campus. Therefore, our first task was converting one bay of a massive dairy barn into a heated boat shop.





The students threw themselves into the task of cutting and nailing boards across the posts of this old barn, then battening plastic across it to keep out the whistling wind. Most of these kids have scarcely driven a nail in their lives and yet they work like any crew of roughnecks.




*****




The Boat

My first impulse was to build a square boat. No other shape lets you achieve more with less skill, time, and money. However, the public nature of this project, I feel, dictates that the design conform a little more closely to the popular idea of what a boat should look like. Therefore I took the next best thing, a flatiron skiff just one step fancier than CANARD, with a touch of spring lofted into the sheerline, leaving the bottom of the side panels straight: namely, Bolger's PIRATE RACER. Of course, this is a 14' boat intended for a crew of two light people, so compulsive scaler that I am, scaled it up to 22'.

I designed the rig for this monster that I am calling the “Springhouse Skiff” with four considerations in mind.

  1. Manageable spar length
  2. Minimal possibility of boom/head interactions
  3. No time wasted in engineering a reefing system
  4. Lots of ropes to keep teens from ever getting bored underway. 
The result is a rather idiosyncratic looking three-masted sharpie sprit rig with identical fore and main, a transom stepped mizzen and a handkerchief jib (could someone please comment to help me categorize this? Yawl-Ketch?) As silly as it may look to some, I expect it to achieve the four goals above. The masts are 18' long, you'd have to be standing up to get whacked, you can strike individual sails without inducing helm imbalance, and there are five (count 'em) sheets to hold, plus a tiller. Thats six busy kids.

Other features include ample, four-chambered side air boxes for a flotation scheme beyond reproach and an open footpath almost from stem to stern.


The Voyage

In the first week of May, the plan is to take the Springhouse Skiff as well as any additional boats we have time and funds to make, to the Chesapeake bay for a voyage that includes camping, sailing, and some sort of service learning element, TBD.



Cutting Tape at the New Location


The Ask

Springhouse is a tiny, rural private school, firmly rooted in the middle class. We have neither funding from the state, nor the power to levy taxes on the local community. Springhouse strives to keep tuition costs within reach of families of average means.

As nice as it is to be doing this project, it is funded with donations above and beyond the normal operating costs of the school. We are grateful to those who have supported this effort thus far, but we are still not fully funded. We will need, at the very minimum, another $2500 to see this project through. We have started a Kickstarter campaign to try to make up this gap.

Click HERE to donate


If you are able to donate, you will be helping imbue a new generation with a love for sailing and the independent spirit of the garage boat builder. A worthy cause if you ask me!

Thanks to Dave and Anke for inspiring us all in things nautical, philosophical, spiritual, and relational. Never have I been more influenced by folks I have never met. I'm sure the other readers of this blog will echo my sentiments.

-David Reece