"Don't do it,"

says Brad. "I'm going to do it," says Holly, chisel in hand. Infuriated, Brad storms off threatening divorce. Maybe hard to believe but the word was said, and when it comes to the boat, a few threats of it are voiced every now and again. Frustrated exclamations of, "it's your boat" when something is going wrong - not our boat. And like the silly 1950's featured image of this post, sometimes, Brad just needs to let me deal with the boat.

We both know each other have certain strengths and weaknesses when it comes to various tasks for and with CAYUGA. And this is just part of the deal when it comes to getting along and understanding each other - knowing that these moments are temporary and the current s*** show will too, pass. Heck, Brad and I love each other, if we did not, we would not have made it through any of this, and certainly not be about to celebrate 10 years of marriage and 15 since we met, in fact we already hit the 15 - on August 28, our first date.

So, let's talk about how it got a bit heated - a chisel and woodwork - with the advisory to not proceed. I am not an expert with this tool, but I know what it is and what it does thanks to years of hanging out with dad and helping with his projects. They are deceptively simple looking tools, but they can do unintended damage if not properly handled.

This all started because of a very silly situation that makes me totally nuts, it's my version of OCD; I do not like when things are broken or don't match or some variation of those issues. In this case, I'm talking about the hinges on CAYUGA's companionway doors.

I took pictures last fall while being towed to our winter storage facility because I wanted to find a matching hinge - three are take-apart or bullet style knuckle hinges and one is a butt hinge. If the knuckles properly worked, the door is easily lifted out of place, but alas, due to the butt hinge on the port door, that was not possible. Hard to see in the photo dbut look at the bottom left, and you'll see what I mean - not to mention that it is silver (varnished over a bit and corroded). Oh, and lovely, the screws are different, and some are missing. This makes me crazy! This kind of thing makes me really wonder if people care about the things they own and want them to be in good condition. Clearly, I (we) am trying to get and keep CAYUGA that way.

I scoured the internet to find a matching knuckle, but I was having little luck, then one day I stumbled upon a possible solution with what looked like a really close match except for the center part, this one having a large center ring and being flush with the rest of the hinge. This got me to thinking as the spring season wore on, what if I just replaced all four of the hinges with these? The existing ones are covered with varnish and bent, and generally a mess. Much easier to start new, right? So, I went one step further, what if I get them in chrome - everything else on the boat is silver colored, why replace them in brass? I measured the existing and got all new chrome hinges.

As you know, Brad has been learning to varnish better with some help and asked the guy about the hinges. It was reported back to me that the new hinges were a little longer (figures even though I measured!) than the existing and it would take a lot more than simply unscrewing the old and screwing in the new. This was beyond what Brad felt I should be doing. I get it, he didn't want our beautiful teak possibly damaged because I am not an expert woodworker. But at what point does a boat owner relinquish their ability to work on their own boat if someone else doesn't think they can? I had owned and lived on a sailboat and had to learn to do things myself that I'd never done, how was this any different? Only, that I actually had used a chisel at least once in the past. I knew I could do it.

It was a beautiful morning a couple of weeks ago, temperature in the 70s - a very welcome change from the insane heat and humidity of July - and I was headed to the boat to meet the varnish guy.

Besides working on varnish and various repairs, we have also wanted to get the boat VSC (vessel safety check) certified. This requires someone who's approved to conduct such checks - usually folks from the Coast Guard Auxiliary or America's Boating Club (formerly the US Power Squadron). Brad had talked to a CGA person who has a boat at the marina, and they were showing up that morning too.

And here's where it all went south. I get to the boat, meet varnish guy and Brad is completely set on me not performing any surgery on the boat to install the new hinges. We briefly discuss options: clean up and reuse the existing; try (again) to find that one replacement; return all hinges and get all smaller. I hated the idea of reusing the old hinges, it was hard enough to find what I had found and it was well past time when I could have returned or maybe even exchanged them, and there was no such hinge as what we had that I could find after an exhaustive search over the winter - if one existed it was probably in someone's old tools and gizmos bin.

Then the CGA person shows up. Brad is upset because I want to understand what the process would be to do the work - which meant to him that I intended to proceed (he was correct). Brad's fury continues but now must focus on the CGA person, even so, he keeps coming back to me and telling me, please don't do it".

I am trying to stay calm in the middle of the storm that's brewing. I ask Brad to focus on the CGA guy while I focus on varnish guy (who is charging money for his time). This might seem like not a big deal with each of us working on different things with different people, and those tasks demanding full attention separately. Oh no, that is not how it went down. I'm getting asked to turn on this, turn off that, while I'm trying to learn a quick lesson on skillful chisel handling.

I'm trying to write this like I'm stuck in a blender at low speed getting turned up to high speed, because that's what it felt like. I'm angry that Brad is telling me not to do something I know I can do, right in front of everyone.

All the while the CGA guy is going around checking here and there and I'm feeling bad and flustered that he's witnessing this meltdown (both of us at this point). We're not talking Chernobyl, more like Three Mile Island. And I'm apologizing to varnish guy every other second while trying to listen to him and relate to him that I fully get what he's telling me as he goes through what he thinks will be the job will entail and explaining a couple of really good points regarding the grain of the wood and the size chisel he might prefer for the work. I showed him the chisels we had on hand and then he offered his (really sharp!).

As Wikipedia describes with reference to Three Mile Island, "Loss of coolant and partial core meltdown due to operator errors and technical flaws. There was a small release of radioactive gases". Who you think that might be in this scenario; I leave to your imagination.

After both gentlemen have departed the boat, we are two very unhappy people. Brad is on fire about me installing the hinges. I'm beyond my capacity to figure out how to diffuse the situation when I know I can do the work and want to, and I just want things to simmer down. Brad leaves the boat in a big huff after we've directed some very pointed barbs at each other. I begin my hinge work.

Brad does eventually return to the boat, I don't remember the sequence of events at this point, he left again and returned again, but somewhere along the line he had purchased some kind of cleaner - a sort of foaming stuff that strips paint/varnish/goo and put the old hinges in a jar to get them cleaned up. This is the kind of thing that is just a huge waste of time and money but in his mind, my hinge work should never have started and was doomed. I felt his ire was overwrought and his effort to restore the old hinges was the dumbest thing ever. Guess what - after attempting final cleaning of the first old hinge, he gave up. By this time, I was 90% done with my chiseling and had the top two hinges fully installed and working properly.

To explain what my process of installation involved, first I had to chisel out almost 1/4" at the top of each leaf inset and then an additional 1/16" or so for each leaf to move inward because I had to keep the leaf flush with the edge of the door. I also found that I had to carve a new curve into each door trim to accommodate a slightly different location of the bottom part of the knuckle - you can see this in the first photo, particularly if you go back up to the photo of the old hinge knuckle location.

I texted the varnish guy (and Brad) along the way and shared these photos of the progress. During it, I found all kinds of ways to hold the chisel steady and just use good old fashioned hand pressure on the wood as gently as possible but firmly so that my lines were straight and no wood was unnecessarily removed. I very lightly sanded each area after successfully trial fitting to prepare for a light coat of varnish later. I was worried that my chiseling would be too tight that once varnish was applied the hinge would not fit, therefore I tried carefully to allow for a tiny bit extra space but nothing you would notice unless you were this fellow:

Anyway, in the end, we joked about having threatened "divorce", shared this story with a bunch of friends who know the dynamics around here, not to mention having lived through a lot of this boat with us, and laughed a lot, but mostly, Brad concluded the text message chain with the varnish guy saying, "I STAND CORRECTED". The doors look perfect - the installation a full success, the tools were returned, and yet another chapter of I love chiseling, is in the books.