Sandy Beach in the fog
Snettisham
2013 - 6: Trim and the Rail
June 28-30
Sandy Beach in the fog
June continued to unfold with stunningly beautiful
weather.
After two or three days of showers, Friday morning was fogged over with
the
promise of clear skies. I woke to the joint sounds of the garbage truck
and the
fog horn of a cruise ship in the channel. I grouchily walked the
garbage can to
the top of the driveway, shut Cailey out of the bedroom, put in some
earplugs,
and marvelously slept for another hour, after which I woke up much more
interested in facing the day. I showered and gathered some clothes for
the
weekend, then headed out to Harri's welding shop to pick up my sad
boat,
dropping her back in the boat shelter at home. I'd had some bad news
the day
before, when Harri's had refused to work on my boat for liability
reasons.
After
the bilge pump system failed in mid-June, I'd noticed the boat taking
on water
and pulled her out, finding a handful of cracks in the hull in the
general
vicinity
of the welds from previously fixed cracks some years ago (I found them
by filling the boat with hose water with the
plug in). My previously tried and true welders (Simpco's) blew me
off for
two and
a half weeks before telling me to just take take it elsewhere.
And so it was that with a heavy heart I
left it
behind, grateful that my parents offered to loan me the Kathy M for the
weekend.
By 9:15 I was on my way to the harbor, by 9:30 I
was
underway, and by 10:00 I was leaving the fuel dock, which I thought was
pretty
good time given that I had to drift around for a while waiting for a
spot at
Petro Marine. The remnants of the fog bank gathered in mystical clouds
over
Sandy Beach and in a much denser patch at the end of the channel (so
much so
that I took a compass bearing on my iPhone in case I lost sight of the
mountains, though I never did). The water was more or less flat calm
and I
couldn't help but think it would have been perfect weather for
the
Ronquil.
Instead, I was inside the Kathy M's cabin in the shade. Not to
say that
I'm not
extremely grateful for the ride! I saw no whales at all, but was
pleased to
come across Dall's porpoise again a little south of Taku
Harbor,
rolling
slowly. Clouds made dramatic plays over Admiralty.
Naturally I arrived right after a low tide, -1.'
Though I
could see the cut bank along the channel closest to the lodge which the
Ronquil
can nudge right up against at that tide, the Kathy M could get nowhere
near it.
I wound up pushing it to shore two points below the eagle's
nest and
left it
there anchored on the rocks, carrying only my backpack (with quesadilla
makings), the can of paint, sandpaper, and paint tray
liners--all the
things I
thought I might need before I went back at high tide. Black flies
infiltrated
the cabin immediately as I unloaded, swarming in alarming numbers even
though neither
Cailey
nor I were inside any longer. We left the boat and mosied up the beach
to the lodge, opened up, lit
the
pilots on the range, etc., and immediately got to work. First up:
finish
(continue) painting the shed. I gathered up all the painting supplies I
needed
(which involved a trip to the attic for the last paint roller), lit a
few
mosquito coils, and put my iPhone on shuffle (it seemed to favor
Leonard Cohen).
I started by finishing the downriver side (which was only half painted
when we
ran out last time) including the window frame, then put a second coat
on the
other three walls and a first coat on their windows.
When I was finished, I'd gotten a little
hungry,
but I
wanted to take care of the Kathy M first, so Cailey and I went for a
kayak. A
brisk wind had kicked up from Gilbert Bay and I struggled to
make much
headway. Once we reached the boat, I poled her around a rocky outcrop,
retrieved the anchor, and puttered upriver to unload the gear and carry
it up
to the porch. The wind held the boat in to shore and made poling her
out to
deep water more difficult than usual. I anchored her up in the middle,
placed
the shed door rail in the kayak (which I'd forgotten to take off
earlier), and followed it on board. Cailey was less confident than
usual, maybe
because of
the big
metal rod a
cross
the middle, and not even leaving her briefly
behind
prompted
her to jump onto the kayak. I eventually had to half drag her in and we
were
headed to shore at last.
And so I'd earned lunch, rather late in
the
afternoon, which
I ate on the deck in the sunshine with rather less clothes than usual.
It was
already nearly four, which meant I would lose direct sun in about an
hour, so I
decided to stay there and sunbathe while I worked on my take home exam
for
renewing my master's license. Surprisingly, the flies were
scarce
compared to
down by the water, and I managed to remain more or less comfortable
with
minimal deet. While I sat, a harbor seal made a noisy routine where he
came up
for a loud breath, then rolled and immediately slapped the water back
and forth
with its back flippers before coming up again about 20 feet away and
repeating.
He did this about half a dozen times before disappearing. On the bird
front, it
was largely quiet--we've definitely passed from spring
song to summer
lull. A
hermit thrush sang on and off downriver, a Pacific wren had sung a few
times
while I was painting, and I'd heard a Pacific slope flycatcher
a few
times, but
other that there were just the crows harassing the eagles. I did hear
something
that sounded like bawling coming from downriver and later some snaps
that made
me wonder about bears enough that I put Cailey inside and waited behind
the
cabin in case they showed up. They never did, but I did let Cailey out
and went
to sit for half an hour, during which time there was an intense and
noisy
conference of golden-crowned kinglets in the trees around me.
And then it was time to get back to work. I hauled
all the
door track materials and cutting tools to the shed, put the piece of
plywood
that would become a door down on
sawhorses, and decided I'd better see if the generator worked
before I
went any
farther. It didn't. I pulled enough to know that it would have
started
under
normal circumstances, but it didn't budge. I admit I was losing
steam
and
considered quitting for the night--trouble shooting was not what
enticed
me at
that moment. But I figured I could at least try a few simple things,
starting
with changing out the spark plug. I found the spare in the cabinet
and the
engine started after four pulls. Wow! Sometimes things work. I let it
run a
little and it soon ran out of gas, so I filled the gas and added some
oil and
started taking measurements for the door. I decided to have it overlap
the
opening by two inches on each side and one inch on the top.
The rail system itself turned out to be easy to
put
together. I clamped on the brackets that attach it to the wall and put
together
the wheels, which slid satisfyingly through the track. Cutting the door
was
less fun (I hate cutting plywood) but worked well enough. While it ran
a
little
longer, I studied how the brackets that hang from the wheels attach to
the door
and realized that if I attached the rail directly to the wall, the door
would
rub up against the wall. That explained the drawings I'd seen
in the
instructions which suggested that blocking was necessary. I thought it
was a
poor design, but I quickly cut pieces of plywood to fit behind each of
the
three brackets that attach the rail to the wall as well as an extra
piece of
blocking where the bracket on the low end of the shed would be screwed
above
the plywood siding and so needed extra backing.
Yes, that complicated things, but I didn't
expect
it to be
an easy project. I then had to go about placing the rail. It was eight
feet
long, so almost the entire width of the shed (it's good that I
was
installing
it on the side with the extra seven inches) and needed to sit just an
inch and
a half above the door. I found the centerline of the door where the
middle
bracket would be and marked it, then used the level to draw a straight
line
where the bottom of the track would be all across the wall. After
attaching one
of the pieces of blocking where the center bracket would go with a
single nail,
I used it to mark exactly where the other brackets would end (which was
easy,
since they are at the ends of an eight foot length, or exactly
49" from
either
side of the piece I'd just nailed in). I nailed those in, then
shimmed
the
blocking on the low end as the gap was slightly wider than plywood.
Then, the hard part!
How was I going to hold and attach the rail system (which is awkward
and not
that light) over my head? I figured if I got the center bracket in, it
could
hang there while I secured the others. Amazingly, each of the blocking
pieces
I'd nailed on were in the right place. I measured where the
holes were
in the
brackets and marked it on each piece. Then I got out my old cordless
drill and
the biggest drill bit I could find, found the battery with some juice
left, and
sprayed some WD-40 to get the tighteners on the drill working (I've
never
seen it
work so
fast!). I drilled a starter hole, then hoisted the rail over my head
and held
it in place while I finger tightened the lag bolt, then racheted it
tight with
a socket. It could not have worked better. The rail was secure and
level. I
quickly repeated the process for the other two brackets, rolled the
wheels in
it just for fun (at which point I discovered that the blocking was, in
fact,
unnecessary), cleaned up, and called it a night. I washed some of the
deet off,
had a snack, and read inside for half an hour, enjoying the comfort of
the
couch and the peace from biting insects. Eventually, Cailey and I
retired to
Hermit Thrush, which is where I am now as I write this.
 Fog at Sandy Beach |
 Looking at the lodge from where I anchored the Kathy M |
 Finished painting the shed |
Cailey
rose early and casually joined me on the
bed for a
little while before returning to the floor and pacing until I let her
out at
7:30. True to form, she spent only a few minutes at a time, if
that, away
from
the cabin, returning each time to tromp over the porch or perhaps lay
there
only to stand and tromp around again while I tried in vain to rest.
Consequently, when I finally got up at 8:45 I was cranky enough to
snarl
at her when she bumped me with a log she was prancing around with in
her joy at
having me finally emerge from the cabin.And so I had a slow start with a little hot
chocolate and
oatmeal and some reading inside. It was lightly raining when I walked
over and
the forest was wet, but it hadn't reached the shed and had
cleared up
by the
time I was reluctantly ready to face the day. I'd stashed the
door
(which
overnighted on sawhorses) in the shed on the way over, so I could paint
it
later that morning. But first I wanted to set it on tracks, which
required only
securing the brackets/wheel system to the door itself. Unfortunately,
my sifting through the box of leftover
hardware
revealed no small bolts, unlike my work bench in town which sports many
varieties, the remains of boat maintenance. Instead I found some
short screws
which I secured at an angle to better fasten them in, as the holes
were
far too large for them and I had no washers.
Haphazardly secured, I then tried to hang the
silly door, so
excited at the prospect of sliding it down the rail even though I knew
I'd have
to take it down to bolt it properly next time I'm here. I was
with a
little effort
able to get one of the first set of rollers in, but the other side went
catawampus and I could not cajole it to follow with my best efforts
from the
ground, from the side, from a stepstool, with a screwdrivers, or
levering it
up. I resorted to pulling out the convoluted instructions which I
decided were
only decipherable by someone who already knew how the system worked. It
didn't
help that it illustrated at least three different varieties of rail
systems
and it
wasn't always clear which one I'd purchased. In any
event, I did get a
suspicion from one of the drawings that maybe I'd failed to use
a
necessary
bolt in each of the wheels, so I found that, sure enough, there were
two more
large bolts. I took the door down, added a bolt to the large screw that
connects
the wheels to the door bracket so there was now one on either side of
the
bracket, and tried again. Once the bolts were on tight, the system
became rigid
and I was able to coax the first set of wheels in the track and, with a
little
more effort, the second. But then it froze, moving reluctantly with
great
effort. The problem turned out to be the poorly secured door (another
rigidity
problem), and the second bracket actually fell off while I fiddled with
it.
I
removed the door and tightened the screws so the brackets held better,
but it
still didn't hang very well. It was just going to have to wait
until I
could
secure it better but, in the meantime, I'd won my proof of
concept.
I let the door hung and painted it, using most of
the
remaining paint for a light coat on the downriver wall (saving enough
for a
second coat on the door). Especially painted, the door looks awfully
classy and
efficient!
For lunch I had baked beans and a roll, eaten on the porch in the pleasant smoke of a mosquito coil. The sun came out and by the time I was finished I decided I couldn't pass up the opportunity for a little more sunbathing. I fetched the other half of my master's license exam and its corresponding study guide and looked up about a dozen questions by reading relevant portions of the text, reminded of how useful and interesting much of that information is, and how much I've forgotten.
Sun hazed, I looked around in vain for my machete, then finally settled
on a
pair of clippers to clear the overgrown boardwalk to the cabins and the
area
around Nigel's cottonwood (which has doubled in height this
season).
From there
I went to sit in the woods behind the lodge, hearing a wider variety of
bird
song but seeing no more than fleeting glimpses of what was probably a
golden-crowned
kinglet in the boughs above me. The sun dappled through the woods and
onto my
face, highlighting the bugs moving in and out of the trees and cobwebs,
and I
was much more content than on previous sits thanks to the mosquito coil
burning
between my feet. On the way down I detoured upriver, following the bear
trail
past some dug up bear peanuts and out into the meadow, then farther
along
inside the woods below the cliffs, admiring the dramatic trees growing
above me.
And then I was ready for more work. I'd already run the
extension cord
from the
shed to the miter saw in the lodge, pleased that it more than closed
the
distance (so I could leave the generator in the shed), and started
measuring
window sills. One of the wins during my two days of unhurried errands
in Juneau
(while I was waiting in vain for my boat to be fixed) was stumbling
upon an easy (relatively speaking) design for trimming
the
interior windows. I happened to watch an otherwise unhelpful youtube
video that
showed a person casing a window; instead of joining the side pieces and
the
bottom piece at 45 degree angles, he joined them at right angles, made
the
bottom piece a couple inches longer than the window, and cut an
attractive
angle down at the ends. I realized that I could mirror that design on
the top and
bottom pieces and alleviate the need to cut and join 45 degree angles
while retaining
an
attractive look.
So I measured and marked a few of the long pieces of trim that have
been lying
on the floor of the lodge for a couple of years waiting
for some solo,
rainy
trip to drive me inside and force me to figure it out. How many times
have I
spent five minutes figuring out or fixing something I've put
off for
weeks or
years? Too many! Anyway, the big trick to the trim is the side pieces
because
I installed the sill across the bottom of the window before I installed
the trim pieces that line the inside of the window, so in order to
cover the edge of the trim on the
inside
and cover the whole side of the window, I needed to cut a notch around
the
sill. I'm sure that'll make more sense in the pictures.
But, to start,
I just
cut the side pieces and a few of the top and bottom pieces. For those,
I
measured the width of the window and added a couple of inches,
and
decided
rather arbitrarily to use a 30 degree angle. Unfortunately, I forgot to
take
into account the added width of the trim on top of the window and had
to recut
them a couple of times, and may have gotten some of the angles going in the wrong direction until I started
drawing on the trim when I marked it so I wouldn' forget. In
any
event, I
managed to cut enough pieces for two of the 3x4' windows, then
measured
the
notch I'd have to cut for the sill, and used a hand saw to cut them
out. I
was
really afraid
of that step, but it went so well I had a fleeting moment of confidence
in my
finish construction skills!
The first one fit beautifully, and more of the
others did
than not, but I did struggle a little. At first I measured each one
individually until I realized that they all needed to be 3/4" from
the bottom
(the
width of the sill) but there were a few that needed a little less cut
out from
the side because the sill didn't quite extend all the way to
the end of
the
inside trim. I had a little adjustment to do that night, but wound up
prepping
the side trim for four windows, and cutting half of their top and
bottom
pieces. It was a good start, but there was still much to do that next
day. I
stopped early enough to read for a while after dinner, then write a bit
of this
trip report until the battery ran out in bed.
The next morning was sunny again and, despite
wanting to get
back to the trim, I decided to go on a mini adventure right out the
door.
Leaving the door and window open to air out the cabin, Cailey and I
walked down
to the creek, crossed on a mossy log, and followed the game trail some
distance
upriver. The sun on the hemlocks and devil's club was gorgeous,
as were
the
green-blue false azelias growing in clusters around the trail. On the
way back
I found a great place to sit and read where a tree had broken off
toward the
river and taken two others with it, creating a tangled overhang of log
and branch above the water; it reminded me of reading next to the Taku
River,
something I
can't do easily at Snettisham due to the tidal flats in front
of the
lodge. It
didn't hurt that it was high tide. The game trail
didn't seem
particularly well
worn except for some areas near the water that may be otter runs or the
like.
And then I went back inside to work, beginning by
tacking in
the existing trim, which required drilling pilot holes, which required
digging
through the secondary tub of tools to find a two pack of tiny drill
bits (a
miracle). By the time I was ready for a break, I'd finished
trimming
(tacking
in) the downriver pair of windows, and had everything ready for the two
upriver
windows except that the I needed to recut the far right trim because I
messed
up the notch cut.
By that time, it was nearly low tide and I decided
I'd
better stop and take a COASST walk just in case I never made it back in
July
(considering a June 30 walk the July survey, since the June survey was
on the 1st).
First, though, I needed lunch, so I set myself on the porch with a diet
Dr.
Pepper, havarti, rolls, and an apple. While I ate, I saw an enormous
rodent
cross the path for the second time that weekend. It was HUGE. And after
that I
stolled upriver with Cailey in a tank top in the sunshine, coming
across a
gorgeous little sandlance that had died in a pocket of sand as the tide
dropped. I found another a little farther on which twitched when I
picked it
up, so I placed it in a rivulet though I am sure it was just a muscle
spasm.
Beyond the point I found the tracks of a brown bear, and was fascinated
to see
the change in resolution between different types of substrate. On the
way back
I found another sandlance (I'm sure there were many more),
which makes
me
wonder if they were spawning in the area. I didn't notice any
increase
in any
predator behavior.
On the way back I picked up the motion camera and
set it up
on the game trail downriver of the lodge just inside of where it opens
onto the beach. When I
got back
I forced myself back onto the mud flats with my rifle and target and
shot
another seven rounds, this time creating a cluster a little closer to
the
bullseye. The first round shot through the plastic support holding up
the
target so I had to readjust it after it collapsed!
And then I was back at the trim, measuring and
cutting all
remaining pieces. Naturally, some of them didn't fit--it
turns out that
some of
the windows were, well, slightly taller than the others! Or, at least
the
dimensions of the trim I was covering up were. So I had to recut three
of the
side pieces, and ultimately trim a couple of others before I had them
all in
place. I used the jigsaw for some of the finer adjustments. The best
notch cut
I made was for the left side of the picture window, which I'm
fairly
proud of;
the other side needed a couple of trims to get it lined up right.
The doors were relatively easy, though they too
required a
few extra cuts, once to reduce the height of a slightly longer piece,
and then
to cut the angled ends off both top pieces since there was not enough
room
between the edge of the door and the wall for that. In all, the room
looked
fantastic,
all the more so when I thoroughly dusted all the windows and the floor
and
everything inbetween, in the process moving quite a few items out onto
the
porch to take up residence in the shed. This included the hammock, the
big
rolled shade that I used to use to cover the picture window before the
shutters, the
two totes of tools, and the box of hardware. Just that made an enormous
improvement, and there is more to go.
By the time I moved everything over to the shed,
put a board
over the door, washed the dishes, closed up Hermit Thrush (which had
been
airing out with the window and door open in the sunshine), and packed
up, it
was 4:00, the tide was high enough, and it was time to go. I carried
the gear
down to the water, kayaked out to the boat with Cailey, brought it to
shore,
carried up the propane and the kayak, and off we went. The ride back
was
quiet--no whales of any kind, just gillnetters along the
mainland shore
between
Snettisham and Taku Inlet. I made one stop at Grave Point in the hopes
of
harvesting ribbon kelp. Drifting through, the ribbon kelp turned out to
be
badly deteriorated, but the bull kelp was in good condition and I
pulled off
some of the nicer pieces and stored them in a bucket of salt water. I
was home
by 7:00 for a shower and pizza.
 Along the game trail |
 A new place to read? |
 Cutting trim |
 Tracks |
 What have the rodents been up to here!? |
 Trim around the picture window |
 Probably as good as my finish carpentry is going to get |
 Trim around the back window |
 Trim around the back door |
