CHAPTER X.
WHERE THERE’S A WILL THERE’S A WAY.
WHEN Charlie had put his garden in order, and accomplished othernecessary things, he began again to work at his boat.
If he had flattered himself that his difficulties were over when theboat was timbered out, he now found they had but commenced. It was nowtime to put on the binding streak. He measured up from the keel atthe stem and stern for his sheer, and marked it on the timbers; thenmarked the depth of the old boat on the midship timbers, and measureddown from these marks for the width of his top streak. He then worked aribband along these marks from stem to stern. Those marks, which formedthe guide for the lower edge of his top streak, also answered for thetop of his binding streak. He had made the top streak of one uniformwidth, but he now perceived that the distance was so much greaterfrom the keel to the gunwale of the boat, over the middle than at theends, that he should get up at the ends before he was more than twothirds up at the middle. He also saw that, by reason of the greaterfulness aft, the planks must be wider at the ends aft than forward. Hetherefore divided them into proportionate widths to fill up; but as hethought he had noticed that the upper streak on boats was of a uniformwidth, he resolved to let that remain. He now measured down from theribband for his binding streak, got it out by the marks, and put it on;but to his mortification it stuck up in the air at both ends. He couldscarcely believe his eyes. He went over his marks again. They were allright, and yet the ends stuck up far above the marks. Had these marksbeen made on a flat surface, the plank would have gone on fair. It wasthe twist of the boat that threw them up. He now saw, to his cost, thatplanking a boat was quite a different thing from boarding a barn. Theupper edge of the plank came all right along the marks, but the loweredge stood away off, and the moment he crowded that down to its place,up came the upper edge.
“Guess I’ve got a job before me now,” said Charlie. Foreseeing that heshould spoil many plank, and that they would be too stiff to bend andwork with as patterns, with Ben’s aid he sawed out some oak piecesvery thin, and as these were green, they would bend easily.
“Father, how do carpenters put plank on a vessel?”
“I don’t know. I never noticed.”
“Didn’t you put the wales and garboards on the Ark?”
“No; Joe Griffin and Uncle Isaac put them on, while you and I weretowing rafts to the mill.”
But Charlie had not the least idea of relinquishing effort, or yieldingto difficulties, however great.
There was one essential thing in Charlie’s favor. Timber was then worthvery little, and it didn’t matter much how many patterns he spoiled. Itwas only the loss of labor in sawing the oak.
He now went resolutely to work.
“It must be done, and I can and will do it,” was Charlie’s motto.
After a great many trials, which produced no satisfactory results,he at length hit upon a plan. Noticing that his plank ran up when hebrought it to, he took a board wide enough when brought to the timbersto cover the mark for the lower edge of the streak, notwithstandingits running up. He made his marks on the sides of the timbers wherehe could see them from the inside, and then getting into the boat,marked the distance on both edges at every timber, then struck a linefrom mark to mark, leaving some wood “to come and go upon,” as thecarpenter’s phrase is. In this way, by great care, cutting and paring,he brought his pattern to an exact fit, and got out his streaks by it,the same pattern answering for both streaks, both sides being alike.
It was an everlasting sight of work, but Charlie possessed thatindispensable attribute to success, patient perseverance. Ships andboats, in their present state of perfection, are the results of theefforts of hand and brain for ages, each century adding its mite.
In boat-building, as in all mechanical employments, there are certainrules which are taught by masters to their apprentices, havingthemselves received them from others, by which hundreds of men work,who could never have discovered them themselves. It was no marvel,then, that this boy, though a natural mechanic, did not know how towork plank, since, without instruction, he must begin at the bottomand work it out himself. He put on his top streak the same way as theothers.
The two planks of a boat next the keel are called the garboards, andare the most difficult to put on, as the workman there has to contendwith the peculiar twist which the planks of a boat receive at the stemand stern, and also to fit the plank to the circular rabbet at theends. However, he was equal to the task. Taking a very wide, thin oakboard, he steamed it a long time, till it was as limber as a rag; thenhe put the lower edge against the keel, and setting shores against it,jammed it into the timber the whole length. He then removed one of theend shores, so that he could take the plank off a little to see whereto mark, and began to scratch and cut.
When he had fitted the wood ends and the lower edge, he got inside, andscribed along the timbers for the width of the plank. It was slow work,but encouraged by feeling that ultimate success was only a question oftime, he persevered till his pattern fitted to a shaving. By this hegot out his two streaks, and put them on, only nailing sufficiently tokeep them in shape, as he thought he might possibly wish to make somealteration in the width. When he had driven in the last nail, he flunghis hammer the whole length of the barn floor, and stretched himself onthe hay, completely tired.
“I don’t see what makes me feel so tired! I feel as tired as though Ihad been lifting rocks all day, and yet I’ve only been tinkering aboutthis boat.”
Charlie had in reality been sweating his brain, and experienced thefatigue which results from mental labor. Indeed, he was so wearied thatSally, after blowing the horn in vain for him to come to supper, wentto look for him, and found him sound asleep on the hay. He now resolvedto do no more on his boat till haying was over.
Perhaps some of our young readers, who have not Charlie’s mechanicalturn, may be a little weary of these details. We shall therefore tellthem, in confidence, why we have been so minute, and also why we intendto deal a little more--that is, after haying--in these technicalities.