When we bought Kuani, I realized that we were entering a long-term relationship with a boat that needed some overhauling and general TLC prior to taking to the wind. Some may wonder, why invest in a project boat? Why not buy a boat that is more ready to cruise? Fair enough questions. One answer is that by the time Kuani is ready for cruising, with all the work we are putting into her I will know everything about her, inside and out. And that’s an important resource to recall when we’re miles from land and dealing with some system failure or repair. Our first hand experiences in refitting her will help us manage and troubleshoot systems in the long run. And we gain valuable hands-on skills as we learn what is involved with repairs and upgrades.
For me personally, this means getting down and dirty with a part of the boat that is key to its design, but is rarely seen: the keel. Kuani has a 6200-pound, cast iron fin bulb keel that is bolted to the hull. When she was hauled out in June we began the time-consuming and tedious process of stripping, grinding, faring and repainting this iron monstrosity. In an apparent stroke of kismet, the boat had been placed on stands and blocks just high enough for me to stand beneath the hull without stooping. I acknowledged this fact to my 6-foot tall husband Ken, which sealed my destiny for the upcoming weeks. So began my evolving art project with Kuani’s keel.
We began by attacking the areas of rusty, peeling paint with a grinder to expose the metal. This was no small feat as it took Ken and me a day each to strip the areas of compromised barrier coat. We ended up exposing the metal along much of the keel/hull joint and a good portion of the bulb along with a few “islands” in the main body of the fin. The ground keel now showed either shiny metal (exposed cast iron) or black spots (Rust pits? Previously filled dimples? Leprosy? We suspected the latter).
The morning following an application of rust converter paint, we noted some areas were seeping rusty droplets. (As cast iron is somewhat porous, it absorbs water. Dissolved oxygen in the water reacts with the iron to produce rust, which is one of the reasons your mom told you to dry cast iron cookware after washing.) Despite (or maybe with the help of) the rust converter, these areas on the keel continued to seep over the course of several weekends. Kelly, one of the boatyard workers, told me he had seen much worse. An astute observer reminded me that it would take 10,000 years for Kuani’s keel to rust away to nothing. We decided not to sweat a little rusty sweat.
Forging ahead I applied one coat of Interlux Interprotect 2000 barrier coat over the exposed parts of the keel to seal the metal from further oxidation. Of course, this also served to seal in any remaining moisture, but after taking into consideration the limited area of seeping rust, we elected to seal the keel rather than wait. Interlux is a two-part epoxy paint (with microplates that overlap to create a barrier!—let’s hope so anyway) and basic math skills are required when mixing. My math skills were apparently as rusty as a cast iron keel that day, because the first batch I made only had two parts paint to hardener instead of the recommended 3 to 1 (these areas still did not seal well, as rusty sweat had appeared by the following morning). Knowing that several more coats were in order, I continued with the first application until the bare metal had been covered while I repeated an old construction axiom to myself, “measure twice, cut once.”
The next step was fairing the dimples and pock marks in the areas of new barrier coat to smooth out the keel’s surface. We used another two-part product called Quik Fair, which looks like soft serve ice cream that hardens instead of melting. This fairing compound is fun to work with but takes diligence in removing air bubbles that form during its mixing and application.
With this step completed, the keel had noticeably transformed, from a peeling hunk of iron to an eye-catching curiosity, an abstract art form emblazoned with a strange map depicting red oceans, white continents and tan population centers. Who knew that boat work could allow for artistic expression? I realized I was becoming attached to this project, one that after completed I would not see again until the next haulout. And I would have to wait until that future date to find out whether I had painted a masterpiece or a dud.







