4 YEAR REBUILD: Rotten Boat to Modern Classic. START to FINISH.

Good morning! Today's the day. We're going in the water. Yeah, it's sort of just like the culmination of everything. We just arrived here. This whole section from the waterline down is like 30% more boat. Beautiful hatch. These portholes, I have a feeling, are going to be my favorite thing. Our unicorn of the seas. The first time we ever laid eyes on our new boat, I remember how excited I was and how ready I felt. Ready, I figured, for just about anything. And the crazy thing is, is we don't know how much work this boat is going to be. Hi, Amore! What you working on? But as I poke in, it completely turns into mush. There are some clear signs of water intrusion. We got light in the engine room. Really? There's a light on in there? As we surveyed our new boat and found problem after problem, I remember being so unfazed. I was just excited. I knew it was a project boat when I bought it. I knew there was work. This is what we had signed up for. I remember people telling us, like, wow, that's a lot of work. People who had done big boat refits and huge house renos looked at us apprehensively. It's a lot, they'd say. We know, we'd say. And we really thought we did know. Not to spoil the ending, but actually, we did not know. All right, pull it together, my god. And now we're here, present day, about to launch, the boat looking beautiful. So I figured it's probably a good time to look back and reflect on this entire absolutely crazy journey. Woohoo! This is a Cape George Cutter 36. It's a very seaworthy and surprisingly fast boat with gorgeous traditional lines. When Aladino and I began searching the market several years ago for a reliable blue water cruiser, the Cape Georges were top of the list. They're good boats. The only problem is they've usually got a price to match. So when we found one listed in the USA for only $22,000, the fact that we were halfway around the world in Europe and the fact that it seemed to be in pretty bad shape didn't stop us. We talked the price down to $11,000 and we bought it sight unseen. Several months later, we arrived in the USA and laid eyes on our boat for the very first time. We just want to figure out what we're working with and get a feeling for it and see what's on the boat. I mean, we don't even have an inventory list. Our first impressions were really good. It seemed so solidly built and so big after coming from our other really beautiful but much smaller and more coastal cruiser designed boat that we had lived on in Europe. The amount of work that this boat would require was totally fine with us. Aladino is a boat builder by trade and I figured I'd make videos about the refit and learn about boat building along the way. So pretty immediately, work began. We knew what needed to be done. So our water tanks... Oh man, it smells bad. That's incredibly bad smelling. The boat in general was neglected. The water tanks had been left full and standing for who knows how many years. This is the bilge. All the varnish was coming off. The bowsprit had some rot in it. Things were just neglected. But the biggest task that we knew that we would have to tackle were the bulwarks. The bulwarks are the Achilles heel of these boats. The older Cape George models, which this is one of them of course, were built with wooden bulwarks on top of wooden decks. Inevitably, water gets into the bulwarks via stanchions and chain plates. It rots them through and then rots the decks and then the deck beams underneath. Here you can see it very clearly. And you see how water is spreading. There's moisture again! So the challenge was to find a way to replace rotten deck beams without removing the entire deck. We managed it by cutting a strip around the entire outside edge. And we could then unbolt the beams from the beam shelf and wiggle them out. So this is just to give me a big lever. By using the lever I can create a gap. I can separate the beams, the different laminations. And once I only have the last strip, which is really the ones that the nails hold on to, then that's pretty easy to get off. So now pretty much it's the screw holding the end grain here. So we'll get it off. Too well. So just one side in the middle. Go! Ta-da! A thing of beauty! Not quite. Aladino spent some time making a jig to laminate new beams. It took some trial and some error, but he ended up with a really excellent jig that allowed us to make long Alaska yellow cedar beams that we could then cut to the size we needed. Lightweight and strong. I'm just admiring this. Looks pretty good. And now a brand new washer. Probably more difficult than the beams was actually the blocking. The blocks fit between the beams and prevent any sideways movement, but each one had to be custom fit with very precise angles. Oh man, I am so happy. The Alaska yellow cedar beams with that dark mahogany, with the white beam shelf, with the shiny bronze carriage bolts going through. It is just stunning and I'm so, so, so happy about it. Some full beams also had to be replaced. For example, there was a few up at the bow. And one big dilemma we had was the beam which supported the aft end of our cabin top. It was pretty rotten at the ends, but removing it entirely would have been a really big job. Yes, even bigger than all the stuff we were already doing. So we decided we would leave it in place. We sistered a new beam to it. We removed the rotten ends and spliced in new ends to the original beam. The bulwarks and beams and blocking project was a big one. But there were a lot of other projects on the go. And one of the biggest was an entire interior rebuild. The boat's interior was more or less fine when we bought it. Not necessarily a thing of great craftsmanship and beauty, but totally functional and we didn't plan on taking it apart. But we then discovered that our insulated hull had actually been insulated with balsa, not with foam, which we had kind of thought. In a few places, we could see through the thin layer of fiberglass over the balsa that the balsa itself was wet and moldy. And so that opened a can of worms that I think, for me, that's when some of the harder moments began. When we bought the boat, we knew we had to do the bulwarks project. We were prepared for that. But we didn't know about the balsa insulation. And we didn't know we'd be ripping the entire interior apart. We got the holding tank out. But guess what that took? It took ripping up the entire floors. And this entire structure. This is what it looks like now. Oh, what are you filming? Oh, the wall is gone too. I forgot about that. Yeah. That was three days ago. Well, this is where the holding tank was. Yeah, this was the latest. That's, that's all gone. Yeah. And as we ripped itchy fiberglass from the walls and replaced rotten balsa and then had to refiberglass and fair and sand and sand and sand and sand and prime and paint and rebuild. I think that's when I started to wonder if this was all such a good idea. I thought things were turning around, but this is very, very disappointing. They are turning around. It's the last little bit of rot. No. It all came to a head when we discovered that the balsa in the galley was one of the worst areas in the whole boat. It was black with rot, seeping water from beneath the thin skin of fiberglass. I cannot believe that we're still finding crap like this. I had so desperately wanted to just leave the galley intact, do some little aesthetic changes perhaps, and move on. But we couldn't ignore this. And so the galley came out. At this point, we were about two years into a project, which we had initially estimated would take two years. And looking around at what we had achieved was painful. We had poured our hearts and ourselves into this boat, but the payoff seemed so far away. It seemed, in fact, to be getting increasingly farther away with every new thing that we ripped apart, every new lurking disaster that we uncovered. It wasn't from one day to the next. But slowly, slowly, we started spending more time rebuilding than destroying. So there's the hinge, there's a gap for a hinge here. And this folds up. The decks were sealed up again, slowly, methodically, with two layers of overlapping plywood so that the seams never met. We're ready now. Yeah, super exciting. And I'm super happy how this turned out. We applied fresh fiberglass over them, sealing it all up with huge quantities of epoxy. We're on the final piece now. When that happened, it felt like this gaping wound into the boat was finally healed. The cabin top saw some repairs where the wood had rotted around the porthole. The cockpit began to be rebuilt, bulkhead templates and design, new beams, new fiberglass, new fairing, new paint. The prep work always amounts to more than just in theory. Holy Aladino, it looks fantastic. The interior began seeing some paint and some hints of furniture developing. So these have six coats on them, but going up forward, I've only got two coats on so far. The galley started getting rebuilt. Aladino actually designed and built a custom fridge, a project which took a lot of effort and trial and error to get all the angles just right. A perfect fit. Look at that. Is that so? Yeah, I think it's sitting perfectly. Our friend Ken helped us put drawers into our chart table. We spent time laying out the new galley countertops, gluing them down with epoxy, and I varnished and varnished and varnished. The paint room, the chart table, and these doors are really coming along well, so we now have five coats of varnish on the chart table. And we finally rebuilt those bulwarks, the start of all of these problems. All right, in the grand scheme, this is actually going pretty well. It's such a monumental task, but it was everything leading up to it and everything we had to do underneath. But working with this material, it works pretty well, actually. We rebuilt them using a high-density foam, and there's a solid layer of epoxy and fiberglass on the decks underneath the bulwarks, so hopefully all those old problems are not current problems and won't be future problems. One day, in the midst of the workshop chaos, I decided we needed to get a clearer glimpse of the future, and we sat back and just imagined for a moment what might come. It was all slowly happening, but burnout had settled in for me, and it wasn't letting up yet. We had come far, but there was still so far to go. Good morning. So it was another late night last night. We didn't get done in here until about midnight, but we got a lot more stuff done. As Aladino worked on the thousands of projects all around the boat, I focused my efforts on refinishing. All the interior wood had been stained a sort of murky reddish color, so I decided I would sand it down and refinish it with a gorgeous, rich varnish. After all this effort, I was determined that our boat would not just be functional, but it would be beautiful at the end of this. I was just getting ready to varnish. The whole boat was just reverberating with this incredible noise. The respirator, I'm so sick of wearing it, just like every single day I come in with huge red lines that are taking longer and longer to disappear. And there's very little end in sight. I have broken down like this at least once a week for the past six months, and I generally have tried not to film it and to put on the bravest face that I can, although you've all noticed how poorly I've been doing. It's time for a change. I love you for who you are and for the passions that you have. Given the time restrictions, you've been dragged into it. I like the passions that you have, and those should be pursued. I'm sorry, baby. Let's come up with a plan. Let's take a break. Alongside the magnitude of the refit, we had something else weighing on us. U.S. visitors visas. Neither of us are American, which meant we had to keep coming and going to refresh visas. It also meant that when we were in the USA, it was intense. We had to get as much done as possible in the time we had. That, I think, was a big source of the burnout for me. It was such an all-or-nothing lifestyle, and we just decided we needed a change. We would get the boat trucked up to Canada, where I'm from. It would mean that we'd be able to work at a more balanced pace over a longer time period. At that point, it seemed necessary. Burnout had become sort of a constant state of being for me. I didn't really feel anything like myself, and something had to change. The rush to prepare the boat for transport was intense. The boat would be outside up in Canada, which meant it needed to be watertight. My dad came down to help with the final push. Aladino pulled an all-nighter. I slept for four hours. Everything had to be packed on board. Every detail had to be considered. Truck's here, Aladino! Wow, what a mad dash. You've been awake for over 24 hours now. Brain function decreased. Talk slow. Think slow. Respond like always. It was an emotional moment to watch the boat pull out of the shed. We had only ever seen this boat in the shed, and now it was outside in the natural light. Now definitely a break, a holiday, and then try again to power through it, and then get more of a balance, and very soon enjoy it. I had mixed feelings as I stood there and watched it pull away. I was sad to leave the USA and the family we had found there. I was proud to see the boat begin a new chapter of its journey. I was disappointed by how unfinished the boat still looked. I was tired. So we're here. We actually have no idea where our boat is, like none whatsoever, so we're just gonna drive around until we find her. So keep your eyes peeled, Aladino. All right. Oh, there we are. Wow, behind the beauty. A beauty behind the beauty. Want to go figure out the ladder? I guess so. Any big move requires some adjustment. We had to reacquire our footing. We had to set up shop, find a place to live, and keep going. Life evolved into a more steady pace. The frantic rush of looming visa deadlines that I had felt in the USA no longer weighed me down. Life had a better balance, a better rhythm to it. The boat now truly was coming together. It was no longer two steps forward, one step back. It felt like every day we were walking steadily towards the finish line. The cockpit combing rebuild was an exciting transformation. The boat had a traditional horseshoe-shaped combing originally, but Aladino decided to create these beautiful swept-out combings to open up the aft deck and create a roomier cockpit. We hired our friend Francois to help us, which made everything go faster, and it was fun to have a fresh face in the boatyard. My dad made frequent trips over to help us build and plan. Thank you so much for coming, Dad. Oh, it was my pleasure. The engine was a big part of the rebuild at this phase. When we bought the boat, we knew that the engine was toast. It was an old BMW, underpowered from the start, and no longer had parts available. It had already been torn apart by someone else before we even bought the boat, so we didn't even try to see what was wrong with it. It got lifted out. All right, so here it is. Patrons over from Vancouver Island, they were generous enough to actually offer to bring it over. I love it. We had ordered a new Betamarine engine, and it sat in our storage container while Aladino and my dad prepped the engine room. Painting the exterior in the winter was quite a task. We needed to have a warm enough temperature in the shed for the paint to flow out properly and to dry, so we burned through propane like mad trying to heat this large and very uninsulated shed. It wasn't ideal, but I also knew that we did not want to prolong this and wait for warmer temperatures, which were still months away. We had to make do with what the weather was giving us. Paint makes such a difference to the soul. What was a messy and patchwork assortment of pieces suddenly transformed into a unified piece, an assembly of parts becoming a boat before our very eyes. And when the paint was on, we continued with the non-skid. We chose Kiwi Grip, a new-to-us product which had to be very carefully applied. Some bigger exterior pieces got varnished at this stage, the bowsprit, the butterfly hatch. Soon our tent would come down, and we wanted to get all the exterior finishing jobs out of the way before that happened. All right, the hinge appears to work. I can do it, oh shake it baby, you gotta shake it off and on. I'm as free as the birds now, flying through the clear blue sky. And nothing's gonna bring me down, and now I spread my wings to fly. How do you feel? Good, it looks good to see the boat from a distance. Come a good way, it looks very pretty. Looks very different than when we built this shed, hey? For sure, totally. Helped us do some good work. That's for sure. I missed the shed. No, it was really such a luxury. Totally. Look at that! You happy, Jeannie? Oh, it's not quite like we're in the water, but... This refit has been marked by a few really big chapters. Now the shed's down, and that's a whole new chapter again with new scenery, the videos change up, and it's kind of exciting to have all these different moments throughout the refit. The weather keeps getting better, we keep getting closer and closer to some kind of end result, and yeah, it's all happening. All right, here we are, they've moved us. We were getting close now. Without walls surrounding the boat, we could put the bowsprit on the front. The cockpit coaming got a beautiful teak cap to accentuate its lines. That is very satisfying to finally see the rubber rail on again. It's a solid piece of ironwood, really nice. So I still have some work ahead, but it's dry fitted into place. Morning! Good morning! How do you feel? Good! Hi dad! Hey, how are you? Good. Back again. It's engine day today! Yeah, indeed. Uh, that was awesome, guys. That was really, that worked out really well. Along the way, there were so many thousands of other jobs. I can't list them all. It was years of work and hundreds of hours of video. But these last finishing jobs were some of the most visible and the most satisfying. So here we go. I'm going to place it into the mast step now. And just like that, the boat became a sailboat. Done! For today. Look at that. Wow. Okay, so there's the audible buzzer. I have 13 volts at the battery. Ready to go? Ready to go! Oh my god! What the heck, Aladino? Holy heck, Aladino! Let's go! We're ready to fly! We are about ready to go sailing. The launch is booked. Soon, we will be able to let out the breath that it feels like we've been holding for the past several years. This has been a long journey. It's been a really difficult journey. It has led me to question and to break and to rebuild both the boat and myself. And now, everything is about to change. Good morning! Today's the day. We're going in the water. I feel kind of sick, to be honest. It's like, um, yeah, it's sort of just like the culmination of everything. And uh, it's, I think it's more stressful than exciting right now. And I'm hoping the excitement kicks in later. My parents just arrived. They brought the dinghy. So yeah. Do you have a scale on the thing? Yeah, they don't really scale. Oh no, but what does it tell you? If you can tell me later. Oh, she's looking more pretty than ever. And the prettiest, I think, is in the water. Holy moly, that boat is sexy. you