
On Monday we glued up the tillers.
On Tuesday we finished up the foam-core laminated tops to the deck houses, the finally pieces that close in the hulls.
Today we unclamped the tillers and shaped them, trimmed and filleted the deckhouses, and laid fairing compound (the dark red stuff) on about 40% of the decks on both hulls.
Tomorrow we’ll glass the deckhouses and Friday we’ll finish fairing.
And then sometime over the Memorial Day weekend we’re going to roll the hulls out of the barn, square and level them, install the akas (crossbeams) and begin fitting out the bridge-deck.
Yes, I am excited!
Above: A big catamaran needs big tillers. S/V MON TIKI’s are eight feet long!
(Previously: The Knock Down, Part 1 and Part 2)
I am a morning writer; a cup of coffee, sitting in bed with my laptop.
But as we crash on the boat time’s been short, so I have not been able to write out the epilogue of my knock-down story. As a place-holder I offer the below video of Nassim Nicholas Tabeb from the 2010 Washington Ideas Forum: Continue reading this post…

The Knock Down, Part 1 ended here:
“Is everyone sure their okay? Sometimes you don’t notice at first that you’ve fallen or banged yourself, or been cut.”
She looks up at me. The left side of her face is distended by swelling.
“I think I’m having an allergic reaction,” she says.
Here’s what I didn’t know.
During our gentle scoon across the lake, my guests had been fooling with their phone. I had presumed they were texting friends about how lovely the evening was, or twittering, or taking or reviewing pictures or any of the millions of things these computers we carry in our pockets can do.
In fact, she had been experiencing a tingling sensation in her face and they had been googling for interactions with the neproxin she had taken an hour or two earlier and the wine they were enjoying while we sailed.
Now, here we were, anchor down with the wind still howling, and it’s clear something is going on.
“Are you sure you didn’t get hit or fall?” I already knew the answer. Continue reading this post…

“You can’t throw bull with the ocean, she won’t listen.” — Harold H. “Dynamite” Payson
A couple, my nearly my age. He’s brought his Georgia peach of a wife back to Long Island for his 20th high school reunion, and to show her where he grew up.
It’s mid-week, early Summer. They’re getting a private sunset charter for the walk-on price, but I don’t mind. It’s a beautiful evening, and I’m going to make about $100 to go sailing for a couple of hours.
We dinghy out, hoist the sails, cast off the mooring and just like that we’re making long, lazy tacks across the lake, into a light northwest breeze, towards the inner channel that runs around Star Island and past Montauk Yacht Club and into the harbor proper.
I tell my fares that there are some thunderheads over Connecticut, and that I’ll be keeping a weather eye, both with my eyes proper and with dopler radar on my phone. The cells are tracking to the North and East, clearing us by a dozen miles. Still, it never hurts to be cautious. Continue reading this post…