In the previous instalment of this blog, we didn't get very far with the actual boat-building. The next day we spent on it, though, we made a lot of progress. Those flimsy-looking strips of wood? We had the joy of fitting them all together.
In essence, it was a case of finding the matching panels for each section, drilling lots of tiny holes and fitting them together with wire through the holes. It was a lot more time-consuming than that sentence indicates, though.
The first pair of panels were easy to fit together, trickier to then bend them apart into the shape of a boat.
The start of a long and tricky operation
Wire. So much wire. Now that we'd fixed them together in a worryingly wobbly way, it was time to bend the two panels away from each other to start forming the bottom of the boat.
It doesn't look too shabby here, but there are numerous pieces of wood propping it open.
It was at this point that a busybody appeared. Initially interested in our progress, said character actually contributed nothing to the project whatsoever and turned out to be a lousy assistant. Still, any worthwhile project needs downtime to hang out with cats, and that was fulfilled.
Izzy, unhelpful but oh-so-floofy.
It was then a case of attaching more panels, one at a time. It was super-fiddly, and a bit like playing twister in that it involves paying serious attention to the difference between left and right, whilst contorting yourself into uncomfortable positions. Unfortunately I have no action shots, but take my word for it that there was quite a bit of confusion at this point (at least on my part).
However, the panels all did come with helpful labels attached. So I also got the opportunity to learn a load of boat terminology in the process (which I've promptly forgotten - starboard what?). There was a lot of repetition, though, as after each panel was attached we'd have to go round the boat and tighten the wires up just to make sure they laid as flush as possible.
Making some visible progress here. This is where my pride started to kick in, based on the fact it was actually starting to look like a legit canoe. Never mind that at this point it was about as watertight as George Osborne's fiscal policy.
But eventually - all the panels were attached!
Still propped open with clamps, planks of wood and various other paraphernalia - but now recognisably a boat-shaped instrument. I began to wonder at this point where I wasn't a DIY mastermind, after all, and started idly thinking of all the amazing things I could make with my hands, some tools and some bits of wood.
We then strapped the panels together more securely with ratchet straps, and left the boat for another week or so before we could work on it again. Before you get all panicky about the boat's comfort, though, I'd just like to clarify that we did swaddle it in a tarpaulin to keep it safe from the August elements, and tucked it in with a hot milky drink and a lullaby before kissing it goodnight.
(one of those statements might be true)