Boatshed

I am working on two fronts at present: the eastern and northern walls.

It is perfect weather for building, with the gentle Autumn light, pleasant temperature, and calm seas (for the occasional swim).

I have fastened a sheet of air-cell sisalation along the eastern wall, in readiness for the weatherboards. You can see in the photos that the entrance is solidly defined.

My priority, however, is the northern wall, since the roof slopes from south to north, and I haven’t yet installed fascia and gutter. When it rains, the northern side can get a little uncomfortable – so I am concentrating my efforts on that wall. I need to finish the frames and window as soon as may be.

What a delight it is to work with this cypress. I think I may have mentioned it before, and if so, it is worth repeating. Cuts sweetly, planes sweetly, fastens easily (as long as you pre-drill the holes), has a lovely honey colour and intoxicating smell – what more could you ask from a humble wood? And termites find it distasteful; it is their loss.

I am hoping to get the boatshed water-tight before the late autumn rains sweep in. Of course, I need to put some glass in the windows – that will help.

Ps My thanks again to Sam for his excellent photographic work, which (as far as I know) he is providing free of charge. I particularly like the close-up photo of the northern wall frames and delicate sheoak. It reminds me of a Japanese woodblock print, in vertical format….

 

Purchased from:   www.japanesetools.com.au

 

BOATSHED ELEGY FOR THE HAMMER THAT DOES NOT RETURN

stolen hidden away
lost
but not abandoned
or forgotten
O humble hammer
never forget
never desert
your children
your master
your family of lovers

come back
O beloved hammer –
our solid cherished certain
hammer –
and be loved once again
by the old hands
the old grip
the slow embrace
of shape and substance

O lovely indispensable
glorious hammer –
tap tapping your song
on the rim
of my heart –
do not forget
to bring back
that bold hopeless
dazzling
vision
of long ago

 

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.