Now that the trailer was all set, it was time to get started on the boat.
First I removed all of the old hardware: more than half of the bolts on the boat were rusted to the point where they wouldn’t turn and just sheared off.
I also removed the old battery rack. It was well put together (other than the corroded bolts), but I needed to get at the deck under it to clean and paint.
Removing the transom plates revealed pitting in the aluminum underneath.
Next I pulled out the rotted plywood.
This, too, uncovered pitted aluminum.
As I went along it became obvious that I wouldn’t be able to get the new wood back into the transom with those braces in the way.
I did some internet research and learned that the approved solution was to cut the braces off at the base, then weld or splint them back on afterwards.
Lacking the ability to weld aluminum (or anything else, for that matter), I fabricated splints out of sheet aluminum and pre-drilled bolt holes before I cut the braces off with my new Makita angle grinder.
(note: this is an Amazon affiliate link, which means that if you click the link and buy the associated product, Amazon may pay me a fee–your cost is unaffected)
I didn’t think to mark which splint went where, which caused some heartache later.
I also removed the gunwale braces and set them aside.
I wasn’t sure those braces were supposed to be bent like that. While researching this, I learned that various models had different bracing installed: boats sold in Canada, for example, had more braces than mine.
Wait–more is better, right?
Although braces take up room on the thwarts (seats) and inside the hull, I decided to emulate our northern neighbors and go with three pairs vs. the one pair mine came with. I cut new ones out of scrap 1/8″ aluminum and bent them to shape in a vise.
Being flat, mine weren’t quite as stout as the originals–but I decided that once they were all bolted into place they’d make the hull sturdier.
Carpet glue removal
Although power-washing had knocked off some of the old carpet glue, there was still enough residue left to show up under the paint–and maybe keep paint from adhering in the first place.
Time to break out the orbital sander.
I used 100-grit sanding discs (they stick to the Velcro(r) you see in the picture). Because I don’t own a mouse-type sander there were plenty of corners I couldn’t reach, so I scrubbed those by hand with green abrasive pads.
When confronted with especially stubborn carpet glue remnants I resorted to chemical warfare: I swabbed floor adhesive remover on with a sponge, waited a while, then hit those spots again with abrasive pads.
Now the interior was just about ready for paint.
What about those transom cracks?
The cracks in the aluminum transom probably resulted from a running a large motor after the wood inside had rotted and could no longer provide support. Even if I replaced the wood, I was afraid the cracks would only worsen over time.
I’m no mechanical engineer, but it occurred to me that I needed to a) stop the cracks, and b) strengthen the transom. That’s what a previous owner had attempted to do by sandwiching the whole business between those hefty aluminum plates.
Once those were off I sanded the pitted aluminum underneath, then used a wire wheel in a drill to grind down his unsuccessful attempt at brazing the cracks.
The next order of business was to stop-drill the cracks. The larger the hole, the stronger, but since there was already a bolt hole drilled less than an inch away I kept this one to an eighth of an inch.
My plan was to use L-shaped aluminum angle to shore up the cracked transom.
The inner brace consists of four feet of 1.5″ angle. Here you can see it in place: the “L” is facing you, inverted, with the bottom of the “L” under the transom cap.
I puzzled over the outer angle braces because the corners of the transom were in the way.
I ended up cutting the tops off the braces where the corners interfered, leaving straps of straight metal to bolt to the hull.
A 1.75″ angle piece, facing aft, fitted over the transom, and a 2.00″ angle piece went over that, facing forward.
Probably overkill on the bolts, but I wanted this thing to be SOLID.
Having solved the transom issue (for now), I removed the old registration numbers and Gregor decals from the hull using a combination of heat, scraping, and sanding: the latter, especially, had pretty much dissolved into the hull over the years.
Then I flipped the boat over to get the outer hull ready to paint.
Buff until you’re dead
While the paint on my MirroCraft hull is pretty sturdy, I have managed to scratch it a couple of times. I decided that I’d leave the bottom of this boat unpainted to save having to do touch-ups in the future.
There was a lot of accumulated gunk down there, however, so in a moment of sheer lunacy I decided to buff it down to “bare metal.” Here is an excellent description of how to buff aluminum–my only complaint is that she makes it sound a lot more fun than it actually is.
Anyway, I sent away for buffing wheels and adapters to run them on my angle grinder, along with some buffing compound or “rouge.”
The rouge, like buffing wheels, comes in several degrees of coarseness. I ordered “coarse” and “medium” for both.
I also ordered a “rake” to clean the buffing wheels as I went along. You step on the end of this thing to hold it down, then lower the (spinning) wheel until it hits the metal teeth, scraping off the accumulated gunk and aluminum powder.
I started at the transom, taking plenty of breaks since I didn’t want my angle grinder motor to overheat under the low RPMs required. Still, I was pleased with the result.
When I started on the bottom of the hull, however, I began to bog down in all the accumulated gunk. This was going to take FOREVER.
Again I resorted to chemical warfare, and ordered a gallon of Purple Power Aluminum Brightener from my friendly neighborhood O’Reilly Auto Parts store.
I sprayed this stuff–containing, among other things, phosphoric and sulfuric acid–onto the entire hull, then rinsed it off with a garden hose.
Make sure you use skin and eye protection! I rinsed my arms in a mild baking soda solution afterwards so my skin wouldn’t dissolve and fall off from the acid bath.
The Purple Power leaves the white residue you see on the aluminum below.
Then I went back to buffing. This time, however, I had the correct tool for the job: I’d ordered a purpose-made buffer that could run all day at the appropriate RPMs.
It went much quicker with that big buffer–now I was the weak link. Without all the extra breaks I found that holding the buffer to the hull, then stooping to rake the wheel clean and apply new rouge got old quickly.
I wasn’t going for a flawless finish, but wanted to get it “mostly clean.”
After two days I finished coarse buffing. In the process, I’d learned how you tell when a buffing wheel needs to be replaced: it starts to disintegrate, leaving behind a trail of black, greasy debris.
I borrowed some of this stuff from the kitchen to wash off the hull, then started over with the medium buffing wheel and rouge.
Another two days and the hull was done.
My plan is to let the polished parts fade as the aluminum oxidizes normally (I’m going to paint the rest). Until then, however, the polished metal’s “pores” are open and thus vulnerable to a “bathtub ring” when it goes into muddy lake water.
I sprayed this stuff on in the meantime to protect it.
Transom again
I decided to use 1×10″ pine boards* for the new transom–much easier to find than the traditional (and, admittedly, more flexible) marine plywood.
I figured that two boards coated with epoxy resin, glued together, then painted would hold up pretty well.
*Note: the inner board eventually developed a crack, which I repaired with wood putty. Next time, I’ll use plywood instead of the pine boards. Or maybe solid aluminum…?
A cardboard template got me close to the right dimensions, but I still had to trim the ends of each board a little to match the irregularities in the hull.
Once I got the boards to fit, I drilled holes to match the ones in the hull and routed channels to accommodate the angle braces.
After test-fitting, I noticed that one of the boards was warped.
I tossed it into the pool and left it there until it was soaked through, then “pressed” it under some weights on the garage floor for a few days until it dried.
Interior paint
Now I was back in familiar territory. Once again I chose Aluma Hawk paint, this time from the Bottom Paint Store online. Shipping was free to my doorstep and both cans of paint–“Tan” for the interior, and “Jon Boat Green” for the exterior–were packed well and arrived in excellent condition.
Before painting I applied dabs of J-B Marine Epoxy to any suspicious interior dents and dings, then sealed all bolt holes below the waterline with new hardware and 3M 5200 Marine Adhesive Sealant.
After that dried overnight, I applied a coat of Gluvit sealant to all welds, seams, bolt holes, and damaged aluminum in an attempt to ward off leaks.
I masked the gunwales with blue painter’s tape and went to bed early. Knowing that this paint goes on thick and dries fast (especially in the heat), I planned to get an early start.
First thing the next morning, I wiped the boat’s interior down with white vinegar to etch any bare aluminum so the paint would stick.
After 15 minutes, I wiped everything down with isopropyl alcohol to halt the etching and make sure all surfaces were clean.
I knew what color to expect when I opened the can this time because Chris at the “Backwater Boat Rehab” YouTube channel had already previewed it for me. While it was a little light for his purposes, I thought it would be perfect for me: I was trying to match our central Arizona sand color (so dirt wouldn’t show).
Since it was still cool out, I didn’t thin the paint at all. Even so, I knew it wouldn’t fully cover with one coat and tried to avoid going back over previously-covered areas and causing ugly brush marks and “orange peel”–although I always get some texture with Aluma Hawk paint, no matter what I do.
After rolling paint onto each section, I went back with a chip brush and cut out the spots I couldn’t reach with the roller.
After I finished the first coat I went around the boat a couple of times, looking for drips. By this time the sun was starting to heat up the metal so I forced myself to leave it alone and let it dry.
I was back out there early the next morning, wiping everything down with alcohol. This time around I used the brush first, then rolled the paint on in sections to help smooth out the brush marks.
After the second coat was finished I made a last trip around to check for runs, then pulled off the masking tape.
(I’d masked the gunwales to avoid drips, but didn’t bother masking the trailer. As a result, you’ll be shocked to learn, I ended up dripping paint on one fender, requiring a spray of black touchup paint to hide the evidence).
The second coat was almost painfully bright at first, causing me to worry that this tan had been a bad choice after all. As it cured, however, it mellowed to a darker, sandy shade, closer to the color I’d hoped for.
The hard part, I told myself, was over now. From here on out it would all be fun.