2002-2004 Rebuild in Thailand

From the Log of Voyager - Refit Phuket Thailand

Sneaking away each summer to New England waters, and twice to the Mediterranean
on sabbaticals only whetted our appetites. Early retirement from teaching made it
possible for us to sail about the ball while we were still physically capable. Jeanette
and I then closed our architectural practice and departed New York in October 1992.
For twenty years we had lived aboard our gaff schooner, Voyager, a 1929 John Alden
design, so it seemed quite natural casting off our dock lines once again.

We had no specific plan as to itinerary or time span, but we were determined that when
we did return, Voyager’s hull would be stronger and all systems would have been
renewed. Since the new hull had been built in 1973 at the Smith and Rhuland yard in
Nova Scotia (WoodenBoat no. 33), she had seen us through more than most boats
endure in a lifetime: nearly 100,000 miles of blue water sailing, seven hurricanes at sea,
and numerous gales. She was starting to groan, but if we waited until everything was
thoroughly squared away, we would never leave the dock. Our intention was to make
any repairs and improvements on the go.

Defying the favorable weather forecast, Hurricane Francis, developed suddenly off
South Carolina, tracking offshore to the east. There was little we could do but reduce
canvas and sail with it. With seas approaching forty feet, a beam to broad reach,
warps off the stern kept our speed to about six knots on the rhumb for the ten day ride.

Our first landfall was the Azores. The port side needed paint, having been water-
blasted almost bare. There were no yards that could handle a yacht on this
archipelago, or on the northwest coast of Africa, so it was not until we fetched Antigua
in the West Indies that we could do a proper job. To our surprise, the native caulkers
found it important to caulk only those seams within reach from a seated position.
On the north coast of Venezuela, there is a large facility in Cumina for fishing boats,
Veradero Caribe, where we found both competent shipwrights and good hardwood.
Our stem was replaced in lignum vitae and topside planking in purpleheart.
Re-caulking of the hull was completed. Between us we remembered enough high
school Spanish to order hamburguesas and cervesas, but the technical terms required
to communicate in a shipyard were not even in our dictionary. Sign language and
drawings had to suffice.

Phuket, Thailand is a convenient jumping off point for yachts crossing the Indian Ocean,
and Boat Lagoon on the east coast of the island provides a thoroughly professional full
service yard. The marina had been carved out of a mangrove swamp. The dredged
channel is narrow and must be approached carefully at high tide, only at full or new
moon for deep draft vessels like Voyager. With 7-1/2 feet to the keel and 66 feet overall,
there was no room for us to turn in the basin without considerable backing and filling.
Once hauled by one of three travel lifts, a small army is available on or near the
premises to handle your needs, whether welding, fiberglass work, rigging, engine
repairs, custom stainless work, canvas, or woodwork. In spite of the hot climate,
workers are eager to clamber up staging, sometimes standing shoulder to shoulder
to fair a hull; when finally painted after days, sometimes weeks of intense preparation,
the result is outstanding.

We came to Boat Lagoon initially to make contact with Nai and Toe of Phuket Inter
Wood Work. Several of their clients we’d met on our path spoke enthusiastically of
their high standards. Toe is an accomplished shipwright; his wife Nai speaks English,
understands the needs of the yachtsman, and every project is handled with care.
We needed a new deck, having suffered several Aussie termite attacks to the plywood
underlayment and a few oak deck beams. After considerable discussion on available
woods and construction techniques, we agreed on: new laminated deck beams of
maay takien tong, a maay daeng tongue and groove underlayment, fiberglas membrane,
and new 3/4 inch maay sak (teak) deck.

A shipwright friend from Martha’s Vineyard had built his Alden Malabar II schooner,
Phra Luang, twenty years prior with respected Bangkok boat builder, Mr. Hore
Junaromnee. Both flew to Phuket from their respective shipyards to investigate our
condition. While neither was clear as to the extent of our needs, we agreed that
Mr. Hore would repair our framing and planking, select the wood, and move his crew
and equipment to Phuket for the duration of the project.

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We continued through the Panama Canal. Within a period of nine years as we crossed
the Pacific, our routine haulouts for antifouling and general maintenance included
Panama, New Zealand, Australia, New Caledonia, Vanuatu, the Solomon Islands,
Borneo, Hong Kong, Japan, the Philippines, and Singapore. Facilities varied from 150
ton travel lift to wooden sled dragged through the jungle by tractor. We loved seeing
new ports, travelling inland, meeting people; each country we visited offered so much
more culturally and architecturally than our sensibilities could handle. But no marine
facility we found possessed the magic combination required: skilled workers and
quality seasoned hardwood at affordable prices. Most shipyards were either too large
or too small, and simply lacked suitable wood.

Prior to the completion of the reputable Watercraft Venture haulout facility in Subic Bay
near Manila, it was the pirates, not Abu Sayef, but ex-pats who ran the small yards in
the Philippines, anxious to haul your vessel, then holding it hostage until terms were
met. We thought we’d found our answer in Kudat, a Malaysian fishing port on the
northeast corner of Borneo. As the second yacht ever hauled at the new Penuwasa
yard, Voyager was lifted cautiously with eight straps rigged to their 150 ton travel lift.
The wood was acceptable, labor affordable, but the work more appropriate for a large
fishing boat. We decided it best to make a gift of the timber we had selected in Kota
Kinabalu, add laminations or sisters to strengthen any weak frames, and sail north.
In Hong Kong we did find Burmese teak logs, fine workmanship, but high labor rates.
Everything was expensive in Japan including haulouts at $5,000 roundtrip, and all the
Zen carpenters were busy rebuilding shrines.

All four woods used are indigenous to the jungles of Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and
Burma, the latter country now supplying most of Thailand’s teak according to the
financial needs of the colonels in command. Brattu is the heaviest, more oily and
harder than teak, consequently, shaped for cap rails, stern chocks, samson post,
covering board, stern post, mast steps, lodging knees and hanging knees. Takien tong
has a longer grain and is more easily worked. We used takien for our framing, both
sawn and steamed, stanchions, clamp and shelf strakes, laminated deck beams, as
well as all the planking. The maay daeng is dense, and was supplied as tongue and
groove in 6 meter lengths, so became our deck underlayment, ceiling in the aft cabin,
and bulkhead. All hatches, cockpit coaming, seats, cockpit siding, and cabin trunk are
teak.

Good hardwood is treated with respect, the use of each timber thought out carefully.
Our scrap pile was practically nil. If you waste a plank, Boon Mee says: “It is like
killing the elephant for the tail.” Our initial plan was to reinstall the purpleheart topside
planking, but since decided to be consistent and run the takien up to the rail. The
bright purple wood was used in other areas of construction, and appeared in several
Thai workers’ toolboxes as chisel handles and block planes.

The pace continued to be exhausting yet exhilarating. Jeanette and I worked alongside
when we could, but with four crew on deck, four below, and six on the hull, we found it
more important to focus on supervision. Of the three participants in the making of a
yacht: designer, builder, owner, the owner has but a small voice. During our first
rebuild, I lacked the confidence to challenge the shipwrights. But I now realize that
none had ever been to sea, none had experienced a full gale or the forces that wrench
and batter their work, or slept in a wet bunk under a leaky hatch. John Alden sailed his
schooners offshore, and may be unique in his day as a designer/sailor. Jeanette and I
combined have seventy years of experience with the maintenance, construction, and
sailing of Voyager. Boat repair provides an excellent education in boat construction
methods, revealing some as more successful than others. It is our obligation to be on
the job every day, putting to use the kind of knowledge acquired through ongoing
problem solving. We both initiated positive dialogue with each trade. In the evenings
we prepared detail drawings for the next day’s projects.

In less than four months we had a new hull. Voyager was swiftly faired, sanded, and
readied for caulking while the teak decking was being installed. More areas could have
been saved, but once opened up, it made sense to replace rather than reuse. As deck
structures and cap rail neared completion, the overhauled engine was installed on new
mounts. Keel bolts were changed once it was practical to lift the boat. Most of the
interior remained intact, except for the galley and aft cabin/engine room. The interior
took a few months longer, along with thru-hull fittings, wiring, electronics, masts and
rigging. We hoped to be sailing before the year’s end, but planned to remain in Thai
and Malaysian waters for another year to test all systems before crossing the Indian
Ocean and on to the Red Sea.

The schooner Voyager was launched on 09 December 2545 (by the Buddhist calendar)
in Phuket, Thailand after ten months on the ways. Mr. Hore of Bangkok, whose crew of six
had surgically removed and replaced all the framing and planking, and Mr. Sun from Phuket
Inter Wood Work, whose crew reworked the deck beams, deck, and deck structures, both
knelt by the bow as Voyager was lowered into the water. Mr. Hore anointed the area with a
mystical essence, incense sticks were lit, and prayers were said for the safety of boat and
crew. 2,000 rounds of firecrackers snapped, hissed, and smoked about them to ward off
evil spirits. A yellow garland hung from the bowsprit, a bouquet of flowers from the forestay,
neither of which was to be removed unless by Buddha.

Possibly one hundred lined the dock to witness the ceremony: friends from yachts
readying to cross the Indian Ocean represented many nations, along with our Thai
friends and workers. Once secure in the slip a sudden rain squall passed through
washing our decks and well-wishers, to which a Thai lady remarked: “It is a blessing
from Buddha.” The bilge remained dry.

The Voyager I purchased in 1962 had served five skippers over a period of thirty-three
years. She was built in 1929 by Morse and Sons in Thomaston, Maine from four
drawings prepared by John Alden’s office. The same drawings bearing the initials for
Aage Nielson were used by Smith and Rhuland of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia to build a
new hull in 1973. Their effort gave us thirty years and more than 150,000 miles of blue
water sailing. For this construction project Jeanette and I added more than fifty
drawings and worked alongside the Thai crew seven days a week, overseeing the
shaping, fastening of every piece of wood. The result is considerably beyond our
expectations.

In the middle of January 2004, Voyager set sail from Phuket across the Indian Ocean.
In May we entered the Mediterranean and are presently moored in Marmaris, Turkey
on the Aegean Coast. Tragically, ports of call in our wake have been devastated by
the tsunami disaster. Boat Lagoon on Phuket was unharmed and is fully operational.

text by Peter Phillipps, photos by Jeanette Phillipps

On 02 February 2002 Voyager was hauled, masts unstepped, and a few days later
protected by tarps stretched over a frame shaped like a house. When Mr. Hore arrived with five men and two truckloads of hand-picked lumber, his wife, Mrs. Daeng, to do the cooking, we were nervous. Only one of the crew, Boon Mee, was fluent in English as well as Arabic, Malaysian, and of course Thai. We settled on English. The timber, some seven meters long, one meter wide, and four inches thick was too heavy for the six men to offload without mechanical advantage. The scale of these timbers rattled what little confidence I pretended to have. Even more frightening, they began immediately to remove the garboard planks and four rows above to reveal some fifty frame ends in various states of deterioration. Many of our cracked kerfed frames came away with the mahogany planking. When three more wives appeared from Bangkok, we knew we were in for a long haul. A naval architect we’d met in the Solomon Islands once remarked that ocean voyaging was ten times more demanding on a vessel than seasonal cruising in local waters.

Our worst fear, that we once again needed a new hull, became evident.
That night with thirty planks pulled, we slept comfortably with the northeast monsoon winds streaming through the hull. Each night became more pleasant as frames, planks, eventually the deck was removed, but we soon found ourselves sleeping in the open air. For the first time in thirty years, it was necessary to find shelter elsewhere. Within Boat Lagoon, there is a hotel, winding streets lined with two-storied houses adjacent a canal, simpler single room units, and storage rooms for yachties whose boats are on the hard. We chose a two-bedroom house a few minutes away by bicycle. We rode to our boat under an arch of deciduous trees with small shops lining the boardwalk. Car rentals, travel agents, chandlery, bakery, restaurants, two swimming pools and a spa eased the pain of having our home torn apart.

As quickly as planks and frames were removed, new members were hogged from our massive five foot high pile of lumber. Oversized electric saws plunged into the wood with the skill and ease of a hand saw. The sawn takien frames were first faired with an adze, an angry electric planer smoothed each surface for painting with red lead primer. Each frame was carefully fitted and bedded with chan, a local oil based putty, before fastening into place with silicon bronze screws. The long steamed oak sister frames added in 1986 by Gannon & Benjamin in Martha’s Vineyard (WoodenBoat no. 69) were still in fine shape, but did not extend to the keel. With interior gutted, these had been positioned from within to sister kerfed frames that were not back-fastened initially. As the scope of the refit increased, it was necessary to supplement the 5,000 slotted silicon bronze 2-1/2 inch no. 12 screws already on board for the deck work. We were fortunate to find in a warehouse in Singapore, an additional 8,000 no. 14’s by Nettlefolds of Britain, far superior to our own stash.