The Summer Solstice came and went
in June, and the days have started getting shorter. In late July it was
still warm at night, those beautiful lazy summer Bellingham evenings that are
just made for SeaRey flying and taunt a builder to hurry.
By late
August, the first signs of fall are already in the air, a not
uncomfortable chill warns of winter and the end of building season to come, and the need to make every day count.
For Steampunk SeaReys, there's
still covering to finish before it gets too cold. The stab/fin reinforcements don't show (too) much
and lend a note of uniqueness to OspRey.
I set up an assembly line to do the pinking tapes,
and while waiting for one to dry I'd be working on another.
Funny,
even if I knew the
are was going to be covered by a fairing later, I took every opportunity to use
what I'd learn to make the covering look good.
The curve at the tip of the stab
was a nice challenge. I could have used a small piece of bias tape,
carefully cut and blended in with straight tape on the other
portions, but where's the fun in that? Instead I took
up the challenge and standards Jim set, and decided to see if I could
use a single piece of regular pinking tape, carefully heated to
conform.
I started by anchoring it at the
leading edge and sides, then followed the same procedure as on the
wingtip, carefully heating and forming the tape over a piece of
cardboard as a heatsink.
Time and patience, time and patience...If you're hurrying, you're doing it wrong.
Stabs done, that leaves the elevators. I used a hand crimper to bend the edges of the sheeting down, just like I did on the wings.
It probably would have been easier to have covered it with two separate pieces, but I was on a roll. Quite an exercise in geometry, though.
Kind of bittersweet to just be getting the hang of covering now that I'm about done. We're already thinking the next project might be a
daysailing boat from Chesapeake Light Craft.
I was also getting the hang of the Florian Rotary Pinking Shears. They're great on straightaways where you can cut all the way through to an edge. You don't have to keep stopping, matching the edge of the scissors to the pattern.
These are the last pieces to cover, and I wanted them done right. Of course, that meant I ended up with a nice big crease in the covering on the outside edge. It wasn't structural, and I tried over and over again with MEK to get it out, but no joy.
Finally, I said screw it and cut it off. I had some extra fabric I could use to recover, so while the delay was frustrating, it was also worth not looking at that crease the next few years, going "Grrrrr......."
After shrinking and as I was starting the pinking tapes, I took a look at the left hand stab. When I was bending the trailing edge sheeting down, somehow I missed a couple spots that hand not been bent down enough. It was a borderline call. I knew they would have worn through the fabric in a few years and needed replacing, and then the paint might not have matched, I'd be grounded for that time, etc.
About that time I noticed that the trailing edge seam had separated when I shrank the elevator fabric. The combination of sloppily crimped edges and separated trailing edge made the decision easy.
While frustrating, there's something freeing about taking a knife to a mistake, knowing it's going to be better. And hoping you don't make a different one.
When I watched the PolyFiber dvd the people were applying glue and fabric so quickly I kept thinking "Geez, people, slow down!!" By now though, I find myself working just as fast, and as good.
With perfect timing, Scott stopped by when it was ironing time. Like everyone, he was afraid of burning the fabric with the iron but quickly got the hang of it. And like so many of us, he has built model airplanes and treated it like he was doing Monokote on a model.
There was no way the pinking tape on the elevators was going to be done in one piece, I did it in five.
All that was left was the pinking tapes on the rudder, and here I had a massive brain fart. For some reason I decided to remove the bolts on the top and bottom of the rudder, thinking that like the stab they were internally reinforced and the bolts would have to be taken out to install the hinges. Wrong. I started attaching the pinking tape to the rudder and noticed a wrinkle in the fabric at the bottom. "That's odd", I thought, "Didn't Jim do a final shrinking?" Annoyed, I got the iron out, removed the wrinkle and resumed attaching pinking tape.
A few minutes later I was at the top of the rudder and saw another wrinkle, and got the out iron again. Back to attach the other side of the bottom of the rudder, "What the hell?" I thought, "I took care of that wrinkle. Something is wrong here." Got out the manual, realized the error and gave myself a good swift kick in the arse. By that time the fabric had been shrunk so much it was impossible to reattach the bolts, so I stripped the rudder and redid it.
Even though I've done a good amount of covering now, I still wasn't able to make mine as smooth as Jim's on the compound corners. I think he might be holding out on some secrets....
By chance, a beautifully restored DH Puss Moth stopped by Bellingham for a few days, and I took the opportunity to examine it's fabric work.
After obsessing about getting every little wrinkle out of the pinking tape on the control surfaces, it was interesting to note the way they had done theirs. I feel much better about my work now.
The sad news is that Merrill and Barbara Wien have relocated to Seattle to be nearer their children and grandchildren, the good news is that he called me up and kindly gave his tug to OspRey.
The tug has an interesting history, when I was involved with the replica
Nieuports it was in the hangar we were renting. The hangar owner gave
it to us, and from there it changed hands to the Heritage Flight Museum,
then to Merrill Wien, and now back to me.
I was given a DC-(7? 8?) as a hood ornament by a friend, and eBay conjured up an original Wien Alaska Airlines baggage sticker. I couldn't resist.