It started as a little light project

One of the big differences between older sailboats and newer sailboats is that the new ones are much brighter inside. Our Tartan is a bit cave like. She isn't as dim and shadow encrusted as other older boats I have been on, but there is no mistaking our interior for something light and bright and airy. There is a pretty cool and hi-tech fix for chasing away darkness, LED strip lights. Since adding some interior wattage is on the list and as it is raining in these parts yet again, an inside job was just the ticket for both keeping busy and getting us that much closer to going back in the water.

Hi-tech LED lights are pretty easy things to add. Use the sticky on the magic rope of light to mount it where it needs to be, then run a couple of wires. It is that “running a couple of wires” bit that can be make the job less easy. It turned out getting to where the wiring needed to go to chase the shadows away from the port side of the cabin above the pilot berth, meant getting behind the overhead panel. That involved taking out five trim strips, two panels, (not including the overhead) one shelf, one 110V electrical box, the wood trim box built to hold that box, the cover panel over for the chain plate, and two of the mount strips for that panel. None of that was obvious when the first screw was removed to take off the single panel that looked like it would get the job done.

I used to think that aviation had a lock on the world's sadists when it came to designing interiors. I was wrong!

Another difference between older and newer boats in interior space and storage. For a 42 foot boat Kintala comes up short on both. A big interior space waster is that pilot berth on the port side. That is one of the five – count 'em, five! – berths that came with the boat. Throw in the starboard side settee and the fact that two of the berths will hold two, and Kintala came from the factory equipped to sleep eight. She also came with a single head.

Eight people.

One head.

That morning traffic jam would make any commuter in any large city feel like they had the road to themselves. The accumulated morning breath of those huddled outside the head door waiting their turn would, all by itself, peel the finish off the walls. Additional odoriferous contributions by those waiting their turn at the facility are too horrible to even contemplate. The marine interior designer for this boat was a sadist on multiple levels, setting a new low for depravity.

Even I am not crazy enough to invite 7 other people to overnight in 400 square feet of living space with a single head. Long ago, the starboard side quarter berth in the aft cabin went away to make room for work shop / storage area. In addition, the pilot berth in the cabin was modified to make room for a storage area under it, one that fits rolls of fabric Deb uses to create things that makes our life aboard that much easier. 

Pilot Berth Stage 1. Upper shelf construction to commence shortly

Even with that mod, the berth quickly became a landing zone for things tossed, the mattress piled higher and deeper with stuff that just couldn't find a home anywhere else. Thus the port side of our cabin is an OCD nightmare, prone to spilling things across the salon when the boat heels, and a dark little cave all of its own. We have long been planning a serious modification to that area, making it a real and secure storage place, as well as making room for a tidy charging station for lap tops, phones, iPads, etc.   

Adding the LED wiring had that area of the interior shedding parts like a dog shaking off water. The remodeling was on this summer's list anyway. And I didn't want to take it apart twice. So the light project quickly morphed into a major interior modification.

Some day, I swear, this boat will be ready to go cruising.

100

Warm white LEDs look just like incandescent lights

After a couple of weeks of procrastination the last of the lights in the galley got changed to an L.E.D. bar today. As far as boat jobs go it was pretty straight-forward; a half hour job that only took two hours. For a moment it did appear a trip into town would be required as the bar came without a switch - a trip that would make it an even more normal boat task.  As it turned out the old switch could be cannibalized off the original light and mounted into the side of a galley cabinet, making for a rather neat installation and saving a road trip.

The switch just where your hand wants to find it

It was job #100 on my "Maintenance Completed" list. True, that list is more than a little arbitrary. For example job #10 "Install screen on anchor locker door" took about 20 minutes. (The anchor locker door is at the foot of the V-berth. Winged six-legged creatures would find their way into the anchor locker, buzz through the louvers on the door, and nibble on my toes during the night.) Item #97, "Replace damaged V-drive / tranny / test run," took about 8 months. There is no good reason to keep such a list going, and it isn't an exhaustive list by any stretch of the imagination, but old airplane mechanic habits die hard.

It was pretty much the first job completed since the V-drive repair was finished. A month ago just the thought of going into the aft cabin to get a tool provoked a sharp pain that hit me right between the eyes. "Kintala" as "project" had just about sucked all the joy out of heading to the lake. When it was done we had two weekends of easy sailing with a couple of raft-ups, and then spent last weekend in the city with new grand son youngest. (A one-month-old and lake temperatures nearing 110 seemed a poor mix.)

Light bar looking from below - that's a lot of LEDs!

We thought about heading out to spend this weekend off the pier but (as you might be aware) there hasn't been a lot of water falling from the sky in these parts lately. The lake is short of summer pool making "shallow" the word of the day. Last night a boat full of the assembled went out for a late sail that turned into a stop.  They were the last ones up, no one answered the phone when they called for aid, so they spent the night coved out without bothering with a cove. They did leave a message however; first thing this morning help was dispatched to pull them back into what passes for deep water around here.  Of course there is more to the story - an engine that failed on the way out preventing them from trying to power out of the mud - a shallow spot were none of the experienced assembled on board had ever grounded before - and enough Captain Morgan influence to make having the whole bunch jump into the dark water near the middle of the lake to push seem like a bad idea.  Wisdom prevailed and they settled in to wait for the dawn.

Deb's bright galley - all these lights for a fraction of the draw of the one old one.

Changing a light seemed a better option to digging furrows in the lake bottom.

Job #100.

Tick Tick

That's the sound of projects being crossed off the list.  Tim finished my most excellent spice rack yesterday and we installed it today after arriving at the boat a day early. Where the spice rack is now located there used to reside a group of really terrifically ugly placards that have since been moved to a less obtrusive location on the fronts of the companionway stairs. Now I have adequate room for all my spices (I cook a lot as you know from the Cruising Comforts blog). This frees up room in the glasses rack over the galley sink for, well, glasses.  Imagine that. 

After installing the spice rack we turned on our new light and, being the first we'd seen it at night, we just stood there open-mouthed.  It's amazing the difference it makes in the galley. The pictures don't do it justice, but here's the without light and with light pics:

Without light on

Voilá!

It's amazing how much difference it makes. It makes the galley feel twice the size.  I think we're going to get another one and replace the flourescent light over the spice rack as well.  In addition to saving a lot of amps (the light bar is LED), it should give us even more light and not so much glare. This is one seriously happy galley wench!