Restoring a
Phoenix Boat Company Isere

First, sand off 14 years of pollen, algae, and assorted u-gag. I took the boat out for 4 miles on Lake Rhodhiss and rediscovered how fast and light the hull is -- well worth putting back into service. I built the boat from a kit in 1979 and used it until the spring of 1990 when a Necky Tesla replaced it. Even though I sold the Tesla several years ago, the Isere has only collected rainwater and spiders while stacked out behind a garage. Now that we're living beside a lake, no more excuses.

The website of the kit makers' suggested a quick-drying Krylon acrylic spray paint. It's hard to get an even, flat white coat. It's also very, very bright. Gloss white made a better surface, but it's also too bright. Let's call these coats "primer" and try something less stark.

The local hardware store put me onto their favorite brand of slow-drying enamel and a decent brush. This is Image brand antique white.

STOP!    STOP!    STOP!

Three years on, the paint on the top deck is a mess. Too much sun? Too much weather? Is it the paint or the polyurethane that screwed up? Anyway, it's broken up and peeling and it's going to be the devil's own skin to remove and try again. So, not like anything here is warranteed, but follow the rest of this story at your own risk. And let me know (davidcortner@pobox.com) if you find a good way to paint a boat made from thin fiberglass.

I de-rigged the boat, sanded everything again, and hit it with blue Krylon. I put the deck rigging back on, tried some portage schemes, and tried a skeg. Fit it with a GPS and see what works...

Here's the latest: Gearing Up to Go Touring on the Catawba. You'll need to skip around some to see tracklogs, pix of the boat, etc. Things are a mite scattered. Just keep your [back] key handy and you'll be OK.

With one coat on, I taped the seamline temporarily and lived with it for a couple of days. I also pulled out the Yakima footbraces, cleaned them up, and repaired some damaged threads. Stainless steel, brass, and Teflon replace rusted low-grade hardware to hold the adjustable footbraces in the hull.

48 hours on, and I still liked the scheme. Valspar's American Traditions dove gray is the hull color. I took the boat into the basement workshop so the last coat of antique white could cure at leisure in a dry, cool, constant-temperature environment.

I had some doubts about the durability of the paint -- it felt soft even after a few days. A few coats of clear, satin polyurethane took care of those misgivings. The seam tape is 1 1/2 inch electrical tape from the< local Lowe's Home Improvement Center.

I added shockcord deck rigging. It's cheap, useful and the signature of a touring boat. Inside are new flotation bags. A heavy-duty nylon cockpit cover will keep the kayak from becoming an arachnid hotel again. Don't put much stock in impressions of size from this photo -- it's a bit of a funhouse mirror because it was made with an extremely wide lens. The stern of the kayak is only 4-5 feet from the camera; I'm standing well beyond the cockpit, and the bow is several feet beyond me. The Isere is 14'9" tip to tip and tips the scales at 35 pounds, give or take.

June 11: One good boat deserves another. I've brought my Phoenix Slipper out of storage (that is, it was stacked beside the same garage). These two used to seem the ying and yang of kayaks, the Kucinish and W of boats, but now the stage has expanded and they're both middle of the road moderates. The Isere is shorter and far simpler than full-tilt touring boats, and the Slipper is much longer and deeper than 21st Century slalom / play boats. The gamut of available boats may have extended past both kayaks in the last several years, but the hulls of these two are still very different. This is going to be fun.