Living van overhaul

My last post, in retrospect, might have been a little optimistic. Once I had got the wagon under the sheltering expanse of the barn I was able to give it a careful once over. I was aware that the job might well involve a little more than a paintbrush but one thing seemed to lead to another. “the more you stir the more it stinks” is a saying often applied to the repair of old wooden structures, boats in particular, so I was reasonably open to the potential. My weapons of inspection were, in order of use, eye, finger, point of knife. My knife kept emerging from my pocket. Above is what came to light once I had removed the cill above one of the windows. In my opinion the man who owned the Van before me and replaced the roof, did not allow enough overhang. This has allowed rain to get under it with consequences. When building structures that must resist weather there are 2 main lines of defence. Design first and material second. A good design will shed water, resist wind and cope with the considerable attritional power of sunlight (UV). Inevitably compromises in the design and belligerence of climate will take their toll and thats where durable materials help and in this case rain water was met by untreated softwood and iron fixings.

Here is a selection showing the well known process of oxidation. I will use brass screws and at least galvanised pins/nails or better if I can find them. A galvanised nail has the advantage of gripping better while a brass pin lasts even better. Never seen a brass nail and shan’t go to the extent of copper ones.

The lower half of the stable door has some history and has led a similar life to the apocryphal broom which was still going strong after 5 replacement heads and 7 shafts. The replaced replacement and re-scarf jointed boards were well on their way out so I decided to replace the whole. Luckily I had some boards milled up and dry from last year.

I planed these all round and tongue and grooved the face boards.

Then screwed and plugged the ledges and brace. By carefully using the old door as a template I hoped (where I have failed before) to get a precise enough fit not to have to adjust further on site. I am using oak here which is a very durable wood and the door will probably be used elsewhere long after the Van has crumbled away but at least I will not be called to replace it again.

In keeping with a sympathetic repair I will keep as many of the hinges and bolts as I can.

Here it is, held in place by wedges, fitting  perfectly enough not to need altering.

So far so good.

Last time I painted the Wagon, about 5 years ago, I had to replace the bottoms of some of the exterior boards. This time around there was this one piece and the board by the window. The rest, without getting over thorough are sound. A few might need a close look next time. A bit like my molars.

This piece, instead of scarf jointing like the adjacent board, has been cut at an angle back from the front so any water will tend outwards.

Once the rotten wood was removed and sound wood found underneath it was a matter of dimensioning up some replacements. The photo above, like life itself, is multilayered. Although unintentional I am pretty excited by it and imagine it would have been hard to conjure it up on purpose with its dizzying array of views and reflexions.

These are the replacement sills to go above the 2 windows and the door. They are made from some leftover Iroko and should go the distance. They protrude a little more than their forebears giving better weather protection. They will be the “wing mirrors”, so to speak, which may have influenced width conscious waggoners of old but not me.

Note the tin of wood preserver which will be applied to the exposed frame and anywhere suspect to help stave off the dreaded.

The back of the car has become my toolbox with the advantage of being self propelled. I hope the added weight is not affecting my MPG as we are told it does. This is our “other car” which my son has had for the last year. It lacks the luxuries of the other golf such as the much coveted leather covered handbrake, ability to play with the hifi from the steering wheel and more importantly the trip computer which monitors fuel consumption so I will never know.

That’s quite enough for now on the wagon and anyway thats as far as I have got. Much more interesting is the finished barleysugar, which like the door is likely to outlast its host structure. I will be delivering it shortly and given the chance may go and photograph the collapsing original.

Early October is tractor spares day so I nipped off for a quick look. It had rained more or less continuously the previous night but although the ground was sodden the sun came out and the aroma of cheap burgers and oily rust was intoxicating enough to have me poring over a medley parts I did not need and watching toothless farmers of a bygone age doing the same. I know that business was done as I walked away with a lovely steel bucked stamped with the royal crest and 1957 for a well haggled £6 and saw others barrowing off with other assorted items. The event itself is organised by a vintage tractor dealer who charges at the gate for both buyers and sellers as well as attracting a crowd to his own outfit across the road. Not a bad model for 3 way profit!

Anyway there was something for everyone, cheaper than the cinema and I daresay I will be back for the next one in spring.

As for the wagon, I hope to get the paintbrush out by next time.

Paint my wagon

I left the English monsoon of 2012 for the west coast of Scotland in July fully expecting the rain to follow me up and settle there for the rest of the summer as it so often does. Far from it. The part of Scotland I was staying in had been under drought conditions since before easter, indeed the last spell of dry weather I had basked in had been putting a garden fence up there over easter. The rain clouds had stayed away and miraculously not returned till September, by which time I had returned to Oxfordshire just in time for the monsoon to end. Having the bad weather follow you around is such a normal event in the UK  as to be not worth mentioning, spending over 2 months of the British summer in the sun while most of the country is flooded is an event worth putting on the record, so to speak. So there you are!

This blog is about the wood, on the whole, but the above scene with the dog was memorable for its loveliness as well as the demise of my knees on the way down which cut my mountaineering ambitions short for the season.

This fine piece of cast iron is the remains of an early wood and steel steam paddle ship the ” Irishman” from the early 19th century. I had spotted this a few years ago but indistinctly as it was mainly covered by the tide. This year Tom (in boat) and I caught it at low tide and had a good look. Tom was keener on fishing while the calm sea persuaded me in. My friend Willie MacLeod did considerable research for me. In a nutshell, built 1834, wrecked in fog 1862, no loss of life. What you can see here is the remains of the paddle machinery. Over the years I have seen several boats come up on this rock (known as the red rock) despite it having a bright red 30 foot high marker on it. Interestingly none of my salty friends had any prior knowledge of the wreck’s existence, possibly loss of life is longer remembered than loss of craft. So much for Scotland!

Meanwhile back to the woods.

I had left Paulie with the interesting project of carving a barleysugar column for a local lake boathouse, replacing one which had rotted and collapsed. The original is made from softwood, my plan was to use a single piece of oak milled from the heart of the trunk. There will be some splitting while it dries but once dried through these can be filled and the whole painted to match the original. The oak will be strong and durable and will probably outlast the other columns and boathouse itself. This job will be undertaken in the workshop by hand using chisels and planes so the rounder we got it on the saw the better.

We eventually did about 20 cuts which gave us a good starting point for the elbow to take over. Paulie has a strong one and an impressive skill in many areas of working with wood.

Here we have the “blank” awaiting the craftsman.

Here we are in early september, splits appearing and work well underway. Still work to do but you get the general idea. watch this space.

When I got back from Scotland the ground in the wood was miserably wet, worse still, all the lovely oak firewood that Phil had split for me was not fit for sale. He had put it on sheets of terram which allow water to pass through but keep it off the soil but the weather had done its job and each pile was a fine blend of damp logs, slugs, newts, toads and vole nests. On top of that the logs were no longer crisp, dry and bright but dark and soggy. So off to the barn with them.

Having no helpers at the moment I moved the logs myself using the transport box on the back of the fordson. The advantage of this is that it is easier to manoeuvre than a trailer and can be positioned at a height which is easy to both load (on the ground) and unload (slightly raised to avoid too much stooping. A handy tractor accessory , lent to me by Pete Richardson of Coleshill organics.

As I have written here before I am scaling down in the woods to a point where I will probably just do my own firewood and a little unpaid wooding as my back requires that I now work from a chair so this firewood will probably find its way into my stove in a couple of years by which time it will burn beautifully.

As I write the lovely extension to the barn, built earlier this year, is now brimming with firewood, planked timber, the topper (mower) for the tractor and various bits and bobs that will not now fill the barn itself where the tractors live and is a sawmill and work area. Good.

Still with no helpers and a physique depleted to the point where the use of cutlery can be a struggle I had to get my head round moving the oak felled in the spring through the wood. A week of warm dry weather had made the rides passable and now, towards the end of september , wet weather was on the horizon so the job had to be done. So with much use of the cant hook and buck rake I managed to load it all up without too much personal damage. For those in the know the repeated performance of entering and exiting a David Brown cab is a worthy challenge in itself with sundry obstacles including narrow door, hard and sharp brake and clutch pedals, both gear levers as well as the steering wheel which obscures the seat. A day of this proved surprisingly or unsurprisingly taxing depending on your tractor knowledge. Also with a lack of power steering and constant weaving between trees. I believe I went so far as to roll my sleeves up but with nobody to take a photo of this there is no proof.

With some unexpected forethought I had carefully positioned 2 telegraph poles to put the logs on. This will keep them off the ground (stops mud getting into the bark which plays havock with the bandsaw blades) and makes them easier to re load when it comes to milling. Also for those mad enough to use the hotch potch of agricultural machinery for forestry work that I do, it makes it straight forward to reverse in, lower the buck rake and drive out. A proper timber trailer costs about £10,000 and has to to be stored, insured and maintained. For a small operation it will never pay for itself although I have frequently wished I had one. The amount of kit one would require in a small wood to even approach competing with the big boys in efficiency and output is one of the reasons , I believe, that it is almost impossible to run a small wood and make a profit in terms of timber output. Hence the old tractor, bent back, borrowed implements and lack of woodland income. Not a complaint, merely an observation.

And so to the wagon. This is my beloved and much admired Living van which Phil stayed in for 2 years but has now vacated for the comfort of a house in Devon. I may miss the considerable work ethic he instilled in us all, his good company and impressive green woodworking abilities but I do have the use of the wagon again.

It was built about 100 years ago to be towed behind a steam traction engine. The sight of the steam engine and wagon has been replaced by the transit van and caravan although the former was employed mainly in agriculture, the latter on roadwork.

My wagon is mainly original but has new axles and wheels. The bodywork needs a few new bits of wood and a coat of paint. This was last done about 5 years ago so its about due. So I dragged it out of its shady grove and to the barn where work will start shortly.

I will say , with modesty, that I am pretty good with a trailer but reversing this little baby with its turntable steering between the steel barn uprights was a task I was not equal too.  I daresay the traction engine drivers of old could have done it before their first fag of the day but I had to unhitch and adjust a few times but got there in the end. It was going to go in the first bay but the chimney was about 3 inches too high so it went in the next bay and cleared it by about the same. The barn is on a slight slope so headroom increases from one end to the other.

So there we are. An occasional wooder now but still with plenty to do. Love the woodland work but can’t bend my back any longer. On and up.