Home Stretch

I thought I’d give you all a nice shop update-

Our logo and grip shield pattern went on the deck. A deep walnut stain works incredibly well to brighten up a specific area on these boards. The edge was then be outlined with a little household latex, which seemed to just place itself in a perfect curve around the pattern. Next we faired all of the frames and stringers that shape the board from the interior. Running a straight edge across the top of the board is a quick and painless way to find your hills and valleys and fix them up.  Once the tops of the frames, stringers and sheer were all fair and ready, a generous heap of glue consistency resin mix was applied to all of those edges to receive the deck; a simple two man (or woman) job. Since the deck was cut exactly for the shape for the hull, setting it atop the hull assembly is as easy as putting the lid on a tupperware.

HA!

Ok.. here’s what’s really happened.

Our logo and grip shield pattern did in fact go on the deck. However.. do you know how hard it is to hand draw a duplicate logo (quite large, in fact) on two different boards? I don’t either, but Luis didn’t seem all too thrilled about it. As for the stain.. a minwax walnut would have been delightful, but budgetary restrictions birthed a mean creativity within us. After trials of coffee stain (with and without cream), powerade, and pepsi, we decided to go with a lovely stain made from equal parts pepsi one and hershey’s syrup. It looks like ebony and smells like a sundae. Yet.. chocolate doesn’t quite dry the way proper stain does. So? We’ve had to “re-texture” this deck design several times to use chocolate’s natural glossyness to add depth to our wood grain as opposed to letting it just puddle and shine like melted kisses. The edge line, you ask? It was ok. I think MPC’s Mike Morgan almost had aneurysm from trying to paint in a fair curve.. which he described as the definition of stress.. pretty significant coming from a youth programs director. Then, we faired everything. It was horrendous. The kids couldn’t quite grasp the idea that if you hold a sander to a surface and then start a conversation with your friend about the awesomeness of goldfish crackers, you WILL gouge the surface… which means the rest of the lines now have to be brought down to that height. Wonderful indeed. Finally.. we glued the deck. Did I mention we ran out of thickener for the epoxy? No? Well maybe I didn’t mention it because I bought double what the plans called for… the kids must’ve been eating it. So we scooped handfuls of wood dust and plane scraps off of the floor/tables/cabinets/sawhorses/tools/shirts to create a lovely wood glue resemblant of three month of clam chowder. Incredible. Yet, as always, it worked. Everything worked. Even using a heap of bibles to weigh down the deck onto one of the hulls when we ran out of cinder blocks worked. That’s the beauty of wooden boats.. they go with it. They let you give a little here and take a little there without much of a fuss. Beautiful.

 

fairing.

logo.

 

Thanks for being with us!

Jesus

we are reconcilers

Tim Dion, a professional surfboard shaper here in Malibu stopped by the shop today to check out what we were doing. Within minutes we had forgotten about the cups of epoxy curing in our hands as surfer wisdom poured out of his mouth.

As it turns out, what we do in Camden and what we are doing here in Malibu are much more similar than ever realized. The area Camden now resides in began as prime waterfowl hunting and fishing grounds for the lenape people who would earn their keep on birch bark canoes. European immigrants (dutch, most likely)  fell for the land for the same reasons and began imitating and re-imagining  these double ended vessels to include sails, rowing and poling stations, birthing boats like the ducker, tuckup and railbird skiffs. As industry began to run our cities, Camden became a workingman’s mecca..  but not for railroads or automobiles… for boats (and phonographs and soup, of course). Ships would roll off of the New York Shipbuilding Corp. lines in south Camden to discover the unknown, map the uncharted, and devastate the non-compliant (sadly indeed). All of these make me think that Camden has something to it… something greater than mere water access that causes people to build boats and fall for the rivers… as if the land itself yearns for it. Perhaps now it simply longs for a return to a home it once new.. the kind that was felt at the most recent boat launch on the Cooper River as 15 kids bounced toothy smiles off the most subtle wind swells.

Malibu shares in Camden’s longing. Rumor has it that Malibu created surfing as we know it by being the first wave where someone turned down the face as opposed to simply riding towards shore. I believe it.. and if you were here, you would too. Surfrider beach (or Malibu Point as it was called during Malibu’s golden age of surfing beginning in the mid 20′s) has been credited with being the wave that has had the most effect on surfing’s popular image… that long, perfect, glistening tube… visible from miles up Malibu Canyon Road. Tom Blake’s legendary board (especially SUP) designs were built in driveways and garages all around this area through the thirties, forties, fifties and sixties until Malibu shifted gears. Once a wilderness for the redwood paddling adventurer, Malibu became a retreat community for those lucky few who could afford it. Though surfing is still huge here, we can feel that what we are doing here is something greater, something more important. It’s pulsing through the group of builders, growing in both numbers and excitement daily, and keeps us feeling as if we stumbled onto a goldmine.

It seems that we Urban BoatWorkers, apprentices of the very boat that chooses us to build it, are once again in over our heads trying to reconcile a culture and a people to it’s land and it’s history… and I think it’s working. This weekend we will sign our name on the board’s deck, not for vanity but for bookkeeping. These kids are making history in their city and 75 years from now when most of us are long gone these old school paddleboards may well live on adorning the wall of a themed local eatery or small gallery to forever tell the story of a bunch of wild locals who decided to go against the grain of their culture and honor, commemorate, their home.

“these boards may well outlive us… the most important boards I have are the ones that were made long before my time”- Tim Dion

I need more peroxy!!!

On our one week anniversary’s eve we can’t help but laugh at all those darn things that have been uttered in the shop in the last few days. Highlights? Absolutely.

youth: You know what would a good joke?

adult: What?

youth: If I made someone a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with epoxy peanut butter.

adult: That’s called murder.

youth: What if I let the peanut butter harden first?

adult: Broken teeth are always funny.

 

youth: I’m all covered in dust!

adult: this isn’t a beauty pageant

adult #2: It’s not?? (strikes a pose)

youth: ……. awkward.

 

adult: there’s a glove in my hole

youth: !!!!!????????

adult: whoops.. I clearly meant there’s a hole in my glove

 

youth (our smallest): (to our second smallest boatwright as he was leaving) Hey buddy you forgot to give me a hug!

youth #2: ……

youth: I don’t think he heard me…

(that might’ve been the cutest thing that’s ever happened in the shop)

 

youth: I need more peroxy!!!

adult: you must mean by proxy

These little conversations scattered throughout the clouds of sawdust and strokes of foam brushes are what keep us hilariously going. Thanks for being with us.

joy comes in the morning

It’s Sunday morning, the sun is shining over the water, Luis’ kids (the birds he adopted by feeding them his scraps) have been chirping for about two hours and we are just a bit sore… but not nearly as much as we thought we would be. Two 12+ hour work days in a row should have us aching… there must be something in the water. It could be the same thing that has Luis hopping around in empty trash bins after work… that very substance the causes Suzi to roll around in the plush st. augustine snapping pictures of anything that moves… the culprit behind me waking up giddy at 6am every morning… the reason that has the community fired up about having us here… joy. On this gorgeous Sunday morning there is no avoiding it.

We’re going to share our story with the MPC youth group and have an open door session this afternoon so anyone can come check out what we’re doing. This time tomorrow we will begin to stitch our boards together. Time flies when you’re working your butt off.

God Bless you all.

Jesus

missing the forest for the trees

Day 2.

Morning has a different hue here. We’re in the thick of the June gloom (malibu’s foggy lover who after a long day of work comes to settle on the town through the night only to leave again with the sun) which shrouds every second of morning with a delightfully dreary tinge of anticipation. The town will wake up soon. The water will be uncovered soon. Lawnmower blades are echoing through the canyons as the day labor mercenaries engage the front lines of devaluation.. and we will join their efforts.. soon. Yet, it’s not the mansions of Malibu we’re concerned with. Ground breakings and demolitions leapfrog across Malibu’s economic season’s turn with a complete disregard.. contempt even, for the family. That’s what we’re here to build. Vessels hold, carry. Boats (and boards) swaddle people as they cross our most treacherous sections of globe, water. They give us the opportunity to reach beyond the scope of our natural abilities and experience the forbidden beauty of something that should be impossible. Building them does the same. I remember a moment in the shop last fall when a 6th grade young lady was shaping a mahogany panel for a canoe with a belt sander that must have been twice the size of her arm. The dust collection system was on full blast with the sanders creating a sound bubble where our own heartbeat was the only thing we could hear. Suited up in her protective regalia, this boatwright was in the zone and as a tiny bead of sweat rolled down her barely exposed forehead, she found the line. The fair curve she was looking for (recognizable only by it’s mimicking of nature itself) was discovered by her hands after being created by her mind. She looked up.. and smiled. That was it. This is the sort of communication, fellowship, that we’re building here. A dusty, exhausted connection between fathers, daughters, brothers and mothers that is so profoundly impossible that words abide.

Now, all seriousness aside, we’re having a blast working our butts off.

Thanks for being here with us.

- Jesus

 

welcome! you’ve found your way to us, the intrepid boatbuilders builders from Camden, NJ, who find ourselves in Malibu, CA, to build two paddleboards…

to give you a little taste of what’s going on here, we’ve started this blog, with some writing, a lot of videos, and a lot of pictures, i’m sure.