Author: Chris Wells

 

A generous neighbour recently upgraded his heating system, and offered us this slow-combusion heater at low cost.

Used sparingly, it should take the edge off winter mornings, without inducing a state of inertia.

 

In telling of work on St. Finbarr’s Cathedral, he mentions a workman who was inclined to cut the tiles on the spire stones a bit on the rough side, and the foreman came along and spotted it: “It won’t do, Jer”, said he.

“Why?”says the ould fella. “Sure, ‘tis going up two hundred feet an’ no one but the crows will see it”.

“God will see it”, says the foreman, “an’ He’s damn particular”.

 

from: ‘Stone Mad’, by Seamus Murphy, published by The Collins Press, Cork, Republic of Ireland.

As quoted in ‘Sweet Cork of Thee’, by Robert Gibbings, published by JM Dent.

….except for the top ‘barge’ plank, window beadings, glass, and one or two oil applications.

Took a while. I blame my habit of reinventing the wheel; my amateur status; the philosophy of ‘bit by bit’ – and a fussy temperament, which can drive my long-suffering employer to the point of despair.

Next project: the eastern wall with double-doors.

 

Sam and I recently visited a small patch of coastal scrub, in search of seeds for propagation.

The seeds on the giant River Red Gum, pictured below, were immature; we will have to try again later in the season. That magnificent tree must be well over 500 years old.

We found mature seeds on the local grass trees, Xanthorrhoea. You can see the ‘spike’ which carries the flowers and seeds; the tips of the seeds are needle sharp.

Local callitris and sheoak have recolonised the slope (probably because the land is free of sheep). We collected seeds from both types of trees, and also a few seeds from the scattered stands of Melaleuca lanceolata  at the top of the property. These are ancient trees, and look to be gradually dying out, so it is important to support their offspring.

Despite its name, Banskia Scrub, there were no banskias to be found.  Last week we tracked down a small stand of banskias ‘protected’ by the local council in a reserve.

Kunzea pomifera, Muntries, provides a good ground cover – important for sandy soil.   I gathered a handful of ripe fruit, which had a refreshing, Muntries sort of smell….

If all goes well, the resulting trees, shrubs and creepers will be planted on  the Cricket Pitch Paddock, just to the south-east of our Boatshed.

We spotted fifteen or so Grey Kangaroos in our travels – including a diminutive youngster, and an old buck of formidable aspect.

Halfway down the slope there are two deep burrows. Sam felt this was encouraging evidence of the all-but-vanished Normanville Sanddunes Wombats. He may well be right. I had a suspicion that the burrows were fox dens – and I may well be wrong.

 

….is the steady light at Lady Bay.

Two workbenches will be lit from the southern side.

The making of window frames – even simple ones like these – is finicky work. I can well understand why professional builders prefer to get in their window frames ready-made.

Too late now.

My home-made versions are, at the least, solid. But I do not think I am a born window-maker.

 

A number of visiting experts have declared that our southern Wall frames are over-engineered.

Well, they may be right, although I do not have a copy of the relevant building regulations on hand, to verify the claim. One thing is certain: if a badly-built wall is exposed to the fierce gales of January and July – and every other month bar one or two – it will sooner or later collapse.

To my mind, the frames are exactly what they should be: just right for the conditions – never mind building regulations and conventions. I would rather have an over-engineered boatshed, intact, than a ‘regulated’ structure on the verge of ruin.

The end-timbers are in place; my next task is to fit inner frames to the windows. These will support the glass, and provide an edge for the cypress cladding.

 

If all goes well, I should be installing the weatherboard in a week or so. No doubt there will be a few more (mild) dramas, as I re-invent the wheel yet again. I am a slow learner, and a slow worker, and so the work proceeds in the usual way: bit by bit.

As Dad might have observed: what a business. Seven and a half weeks.

The floor is by no means perfect, but it is solid and durable (and of course I used very long nails). It should outlast this generation of aspiring shipwrights, and serve the next generation well enough.

Back to the southern wall.