Larry and I looked up at the somewhat cloudy, somewhat clear sky trying to determine if it was going to rain. “So Sue, do we go ahead and
paint or wait for tomorrow? You make the call.” Larry pronounced.
As part of the refit of our 1978 Formosa Peterson 46, we had removed the teak decks and spent more hours than we care to remember filling holes and fairing the deck and cabinhouse in preparation for painting. I still swear to Larry on a regular basis that my fingers are an eighth of an inch shorter than they used to be after that job. In addition to refinishing the deck, we built a fiberglass bimini and dodger that was also ready for painting. This job was done off the boat and would be installed after the painting was complete.
The paint we were using was Awlgrip. This two-part linear polyurethane paint is designed specifically for marine application, and provides a shiny and extremely durable surface. If applied correctly, Awlgrip will outlast most other coatings, but the initial cost is quite high. When you take into account that in addition to the paint itself, you need catalyst, reducers, and primer, you’re soon up into the several-hundred-dollars-per-gallon price range.
We were very excited on this day that at last we were to paint. Preparation is always a big part of any job, but with painting if you don’t put in the work ahead of time, the paint finish will just magnify any imperfections in the surface. We had been sanding and fairing and sanding and fairing for very long time and quite frankly we were pretty sick of it by now. We were more than ready to be rewarded with that shiny new finish that we knew was only a few hours away. Again, we looked up the sky with concern.
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Although Awlgrip can be applied by “rolling and tipping”, the smoothest and cleanest finish comes via application with a spray gun. There are certain “tricks of the trade” that good painters use to get the best finish. For example, you need to know how much thinner or reducer to add for a given temperature and humidity to ensure that the paint flows properly. Experience with the rate of application is important so that you can avoid areas that are too thin, or spots that are too thick and run. Although Larry and I do virtually everything on our boat ourselves, for this particular job we opted to hire someone who had sprayed boats and Awlgrip for many years.
When spraying paint, everything except the surface you want painted must be protected with paper and masking tape. The very fine particles of paint atomize, carry in the air and attach themselves to anything and everything close by. That means all railing, rigging, portholes, dorades, woodwork, hatches, handrails, and even the bottom section of the mast must be covered. Awlgrip is also very toxic. The operator of the sprayer must be fully protected from the overspray and fumes by wearing an approved mask with filters.
Having already spent many hours that morning masking off the entire boat in preparation for painting, and now hearing the painter’s truck pull up, Larry and I were particularly anxious to go ahead with the paint job today. In response to Larry telling me that it was my call if it was going to rain or not today, I countered, “No way Buddy, we make this decision together.”
So, together we fired up our laptop computer and checked the local
radar. Our joint assessment was that although there were a few clouds in the area, it looked like we would be spared of any precipitation. “On with the show!” we declared enthusiastically to Spencer our painter, as he unloaded his equipment.
After Spencer had mixed and tested the paint to the right consistency for the local conditions, Larry and I acted as junior assistant painters, holding the trailing end of the air hose for him, providing dry towels to wipe the sweat that was coming off his brow and refilling the paint pot when needed. The paint was going on beautifully and we smiled at each other and admired the technique that Spencer used in getting just the right coverage.
The whole aft deck and aft cabinhouse of our center cockpit boat was looking brand new when the first ugly raindrop fell and left its dimple. We all froze and looked up as the rain started coming down a little heavier, all from one small little cloud that must have gone out of it’s way to relieve itself of it’s contents right over our boat. Everything that had been painted soon looked like the skin of an orange, and in some places, like a golf ball.
It only rained for a minute or two, but the result was devastating to our little project. What had been painted was ruined, and to make matters worse, would have to be completely sanded and faired again before reapplying more paint. Even all the masked off areas were now soggy and had to be redone.
Feeling badly because we had made a poor judgment call on the weather, we tried to regroup and arranged for Spencer to return the next day. He brought a friend with him, and the four of us spent the next morning sanding and fairing and getting everything back to paint ready condition again for a second shot at painting that afternoon. After 16 man-hours of sanding, we were finally ready to mask everything off and attempt painting once again.
Luckily, the painting went smoothly that afternoon, but after it was completed and Serengeti looked all shiny and new, we couldn’t relax just yet. This type of paint doesn’t cure adequately for rain not to affect it for at least four or five hours. We knew we weren’t out of the woods yet as summer weather in the Florida Keys is constantly changing.
In fact, we soon became so nervous that we found we couldn’t stay on the dock near the boat and just watch paint dry. So we decided to go to a local bar and try to get our minds off something we could not do anything about now anyway. As we sat down at the open air watering hole, we couldn’t help but immediately overhear two guys at the bar, whose backs were to us. In typical sailor fashion, they went on and on about all kinds of sailboat equipment and we laughed as they never seemed to have the same opinion on anything.
After about 30 minutes, one of them turned around and yelled out, “Sue? Larry? What the hell are you doing here?” Turns out it was Matt, an old friend of ours who used to live on his sailboat in Chicago and had recently moved his boat to the Florida Keys. He joined us and we told him all about our sad painting story. Every few minutes I was turning apprehensively to look at the sky. I told the guys it looked like rain clouds again. In response, Larry and Matt just filled up may beer glass, tossed popcorn at me, and told me to keep my eyes front and center. There was nothing we could do now anyway. I had to admit they were right.
Before too long we were brave enough to return to
Serengeti. Now we could relax and fully admire the finished results. Our 1978 model boat was completely transformed and looked fantastic.
Should we have waited on painting that first day when clouds loomed? Yes, in 20/20 hindsight, but we took a chance and had to pay the consequences. Luckily those consequences were nothing that time and a little more hard work couldn’t overcome. And if we hadn’t had that little run in with that one little cloud, we wouldn’t have caught back up with our good friend Matt. So really, we got the best of the situation.
