Of stars and meteors

I watched the last glow of the evening fall into the west before I clambered up onto the roof of the boat. The cool steel was a shock to my warm fingers and I lay, bundled in blankets and darkness, as the sky stood gaping above me.

There was little cloud last night and the moon was so slim a slither that the stars stood bright and endless overhead. The air was still and the river quiet, and I wondered what I would miss if I lived in a house. How could I bear the confines of bricks and a roof I could not climb to lie upon, and how would I cope with not seeing the vast expanse of universe above me for the orange glow of street lamps? I feel connected here, upon our boat, floating on the Thames. I feel like I am part of it. I sense the thin, wispy strand of web that holds me in my landscape. And last night I felt that thread twitch as I watched and marveled at satellites pass and the Perseids fall.

I wish I had a camera that could capture the beauty of stars so numerous and vivid that I struggled to map out constellations. I wish I could render into words the elegance of the world at that particular time to share here, now. But I have not and I cannot, for I lack the skill. The Perseids are due to peak over the next few days; if you can, go out into the darkness and see for yourself the utter splendour they present.

Where to look for the Perseids (clicky, click; linky, link)

Summer Sun and Painting the Roof

When we had the boat built we only had a holding coat of paint applied to her by the builders. We were't even sure at the time what colour we wanted the boat to be, so on a whim, and due to location, we plumped for Oxford Blue. We're really happy with the colour, but in the height of summer when the boat is sat in full sun the heat the colour holds is unbearable. During the last heatwave I left a thermometer on the gas locker on the back deck and it read 51.9C. It felt a tad toasty inside the boat too. So, we took the decision to paint the roof a more suitable colour, one that wouldn't soak up the sun's rays so readily. We ventured vaguely into this territory with The Green Man, but the red shade we chose wasn't really very effective. This time we decided to go all out and do it properly.

I sanded out all rust and primed where I had taken the paint back to bare metal. I then meticulously sanded the roof of paint drips from the original blue coat and tried to remove the drips of solder left over from when the boat was constructed. This was a fair old job, and after three hours I wished the boat was 50ft smaller and 10ft narrower. I had a little help, though.

There was a lot more rust spots than I was expecting for such a new boat, and the heatwave kicked in just as work started. The roof became too hot to stand on after 10am.

My friends over at the very lovely Green Boat Services recommended Jotun Marine Paints to us. Jotun have a much larger colour palette than International and are more affordable so we thought we'd give them a go. First we applied an undercoat of Vinyguard 88 primer/tiecoat (I exchanged kitty help for human help).

We're not sure which paint the builders originally used. I'm sure it's in our paperwork somewhere, but because we intend to paint the entire shell again (eventually) we thought a slight variation in the blue that we chose would be okay. We decided that it would be nice to keep an Oxford Blue border and use a lighter colour for the main part of the roof. The Oxford Blue Jotun supplied turned out to be a near perfect match (Jotun Pilot 2 BS381c Oxford Blue 105) and we thought their Silver Grey would compliment it (Jotun Pilot 2 Ral 7001 Silver Grey). The photos of the boat do not do the colours justice so here are the colours from the paint charts.

We painted the blue border first. I think we did two or three coats in the end. Another coat will be applied when we come to paint the sides to tie the sides and roof together, and to hide the silver paint I accidentally splattered onto the handrails!

The Jotun paints used in conjunction with their thinner was easy to apply. On the hottest days we were limited to painting only in the mornings. This caused my two week paint schedule to go completely awry, but with Rob's help we eventually got a couple of coats of silver-grey on too.

 Rain stopped play on a couple of occasions. It was lovely to see the high gloss finish repel the raindrops.

Our lovely high gloss finish was not to last though. It was beautiful to look at, but slippery as hell. Our roof is used a lot for access to the solar panels, the lawn, taking the water hose across, to sit on, and to lie on. I took the hose across in the rain to fill the water tank and it was like trying to traverse an ice rink. We always planned to make it non-slip but was originally going to use sand in conjunction with the paint. A fellow boater mentioned he had problems with his boat roof when the previous owner had used sand. It had cracked and rain had got under the paint coats causing rust patches to bubble up from below. In lieu of his experience and advice we decided to opt for International's Non-Slip Additive. It looks and feels like talcum powder (I don't know whether talc would be a cheaper alternative) and leaves a lovely non-slip surface.

The roof isn't completely finished as I'd like an Aegishjalmur painted onto the sliding hatch (and a Vegvisir on the bow locker), but we're sneaking ever closer to a nicer looking boat.

“Get close to grass and you’ll see a star.”

It's been a hot, hot summer so far. There has seemingly been little break in the heat. We sat on the roof a week or so ago and watched a thunderstorm roll in on the midnight haze.

 

And the dark night became light as day as the storm reached us and we headed for cover.

 



But still the heat did not break. During the day our boat sits in the sun, with no shade to cool its baking steel and it became too much for me.

Rob came home from work and said, as he does from time to time, "will you let me turf the roof yet?". The answer to which has always been no because I think it's a crazy idea. Not this time though because I was willing to do anything to break the constant muggy cloying feeling that this summer has brought.

So we set off in search of some artificial turf.

 

We bought a piece large enough to cover a third of our roof and Rob fixed it into place around a mushroom vent.

 

 

Before enjoying the splendour of his work.

Maybe it seems strange, to have a lawn on a boat roof. I know we are not alone in this venture as there are other grass-topped boats too, but it has made the summer bearable as the temperature in the room below is now 5 degrees C cooler than the rest of the boat.

But that is not the only thing. It turns out that Dejan Stojanovic is right. When you get close to grass you do indeed see a star. And not just one. That night we lay on our new lawn and looked up at many of them, beautifully spread out in an ocean of darkness. We watched satellites pass and meteors fall, and I finally accepted that grass on the roof was a brilliant idea after all.