We’ve been working with epoxy for quite a while now.  Meps probably wrote describing some of the messes it can make.  But today’s repair was one of our biggest messes so far. Actually, the word we used to describe it today was considerably less nice than “mess.”

Sure, epoxy is sticky stuff and gets on a lot of things. Sure, many jobs are best done applying it with a (rubber gloved) finger, which means eventually all fingers, and as a result, all tools, are covered with gooey epoxy. We’ve gotten used to that.

Today we started with a normal job — reshaping a porthole opening. Our new bronze portlights don’t quite match either the previous plastic ones, badly installed by the prior boat owner, or the ones put in by the factory decades ago. The resulting hole is too big in some places, too small in others, and has voids and ugly old screw holes. After grinding out bad stuff, we fill the holes with thickened epoxy, then screw in a wooden mold and add more epoxy around that, making a near-perfect shape for the new port.

This went pretty much as expected, but it was the 6th portlight we had repaired that way, and we had the drill down.  The next job was one we had only done once before.  It also involved more yelling and excitement the last time, so we didn’t expect it to be easy or straightforward this time either.

You can’t see it, and neither can we, but there is a void in our boat, between the cabin sides and cabin top. There was a piece of teak trim along this line, which functioned as a sort of eyebrow above the portlights. It was mounted with a lot of screws, which failed and allowed water intrusion. When we drilled them out, we found that many were connected via long void channels. So much for the squirt-a-little-thickened-epoxy-with-a-syringe solution…

So on the night of our big mess, we made a bigger batch of epoxy than usual and thickened it with Cab-o-Sil. Using a plastic spoon, a spatula, and our fingers, we started filling an empty caulking gun tube this messy goo. The batch was big enough to start heating up from the chemical reaction of kicking, warning us we have to move fast. Then we fought with the plunger and the caulk gun. By now, there was enough epoxy on everything that changing gloves was pointless.

And then the fun begins. It’s dusk as we go outside. I insert the end into a hole, as tight as I could, with a rubber adapter that fits the hole snugly. With a finger on my free hand, I plug the next hole. Meps is holding fingers over three or four, maybe even five more holes. I start squeezing the trigger, trying to force the goo a distance of about three feet, with holes every eight inches or so.

At a recent trip to Lowe’s (the hardware store, not the grocery), we got one of the better caulking guns, and it has twice as much leverage as a cheap one — lots of oomph! But this same pressure is now against our fingers, which don’t exactly fit the holes. As I force epoxy past Meps’ fingers, she starts hollering, “I can’t hold on!” and the pressure is rising at the earlier fingers. Two of them squirt out about a quarter cup of epoxy, but it hasn’t hit the end of the line yet.  I keep squirting, we both keep pushing, and she keeps fussing. Finally it gets through the void and comes out the last hole.

As fast as possible, I remove the gun, flailing about for a safe place to put it that won’t leave epoxy all over the deck. Meanwhile, another quarter cup squirts out the entrance hole. Meps is frantically trying to cover more holes with all her fingers, like playing an oversized gooey flute.

I grab for the tape, to cover the holes, but our gloves are too slimed by epoxy to find the end of it.

When we go down below to mix our second batch of epoxy, I notice the worst part. There is a blowout in the main cabin — behind a wooden trim piece, a hole went into the same void I was filling. Now, as Meps mixes up the next batch of epoxy, I see a huge white blob of epoxy spurting from behind the trim and oozing down the side of the cabin. Ack!

It was completely dark by the time we finished emptying three caulking tubes into the void. We used a half gallon of vinegar to clean up tools, like the wrench, the screwdriver, the box cutter I had to use to find the end of the tape, and the droplight we weren’t expecting to need. The caulk gun alone took a half hour, and the blowout inside took even longer. We also had to clean epoxy off a hatch, the deck, the toe rail, and the cabin side. As a result, we spent longer on cleanup than we did on the job itself — just as necessary, but a lot less rewarding.