Traditional trailboards
Adding decorative flourishes to a yacht’s bow
The Down East range of boats were made in Santa Ana, California, USA, and all had traditional clipper bows and sprits. The 45-footers, of which my
Britannia is one, also had ornamental trailboards either side of the bow – except the boat I bought in 2010 didn’t have them.
I never could find out why she didn’t have trailboards like all the others, because they certainly enhance the bow of this type of boat. The hull showed no signs of their ever having been fitted either... perhaps the original buyer just didn’t like them.
I tried for ages to find an original pair of trailboards on the web and sailing forums, but without any success. So I decided to have a go at making them myself.
From photographs of other Down Easters I estimated they were about 2.13m (7ft) long and 30cm (12in) wide at the rear, tapering forward to the beak-head under the bowsprit.
The originals were solid glassfibre resin and very heavy, screwed to the side of the hull. They were probably cast from port and starboard moulds, but making moulds would be a very time consuming method for just two trailboards. I resolved to try and carve them, but first I had to decide what material to carve them from.
It had to be something which could not only be carved, but would also bend to the shape of the hull, and particularly at the sharper curve where the hull met the beak-head, called the bow rabbet line. It also needed to be impervious to seawater, because a yacht’s bow is constantly sprayed with seawater and occasionally completely inundated.
Wood wouldn’t cut it
Wood was an obvious material, and I had routing bits and chisels to carve the intricate scroll-work in a solid plank of timber, but it was definitely beyond my expertise and equipment to bend a plank to the curve needed for the beak-head.
A hardwood plank like teak, of the size I needed, would also be very expensive.
I thought about building up a lamination of thin sheets glued together, but I had no mould to pre-form them on, except the actual boat, which would have been a very messy job.
I also felt that a couple of wooden boards either side of the bow would rapidly become just another high
maintenance area. I asked numerous contractors help desk people in DIY stores if they had any suggestions. The replies varied from, ‘Look down our boating equipment aisle’, to ‘Try a boating store’. Searching the web was not much help either because all the trailboards I found were carved in wood.
I finally found what I was looking for in a product called trimboard. It’s made of solid plastic PVC (Poly Vinyl Chloride) and I think the reason it was never suggested was because these boards are principally used in houses, not boats. They’re made in various widths, thicknesses and lengths for the US housing market (where the weatherboard timber look is popular) but are becoming more readily available in Britain and Europe.
These planks are actually easier to work then wood because there’s no grain. The material is impervious to seawater and will not rot or delaminate like wood, and is easy to paint. A major advantage for my project is that PVC can also be easily bent when heated.
The boards are smooth on one side and have a wood grain effect on the other, so I used the smooth side facing outwards for my trailboards.
Having at last discovered a suitable construction material I bought some sheets of thin art board to make a template of the shape I needed.
Standing in my dinghy I taped the art board to the side of the hull and beakhead, then trimmed it until I had a shape similar to the original trailboards.
When the template was removed and laid flat it was nothing like what I expected the shape to be and it turned out I’d need a board 35.5cm (14in) wide and 2.26m (96in) long. I drew the traditional vine-like scroll on the template and carefully cut it out of the card with a craft knife. Of course, this was done on our kitchen table – boaters never change.
I then bought two 2.44m (8ft) long planks, one 35.5cm (10in) wide and one 14cm (5½in) wide. This was only enough to make one trailboard but I was just being cautious in case my experiment didn’t work – I’d buy more for the other side later.
I glued and clamped the boards together edge to edge, using regular PVC cement and primer – the same adhesive people will be familiar with for gluing PVC pipes for plastic plumbing systems, etc.
I left the glue to set overnight, then traced the outer template shape on the board and rough-cut it with my circular bench saw. I rounded the edges with a belt sander with 80-grit.
At this point I would caution anyone intending to use this material to wear complete overalls, including a hat, gloves and facial protection. The dust from PVC is finer than wood shavings and gets absolutely everywhere!
That’s a relief
There are two ways to carve a shape or name on a board, whether it be for a house or a boat. The shape can be cut into the board, (incised), usually in a V-profile; or the surrounding background material can be removed, leaving a raised shape (relief).
The original trailboards were made in the relief format, so I decided to do the same. Even though it’s the much more difficult and time consuming method, I think the finished effect is more striking.
For this I used my trusty handheld router fitted with a 19mm (3⁄4in) flat cutting bit to remove the larger areas between the scrolls. I set the cutter depth to 13mm,
(1⁄2in) which would leave 6mm (1⁄4in) of material in the base of the board. I also used a 10mm (3/8in) bit to remove material between the narrower areas.
I taped my vacuum nozzle near the router bit to suck all the cuttings into the vacuum tank. This minimized the dust going all over me and my garage, and also allowed me to see where I was working.
I first began routing out the larger sections between the scroll shapes and also left a raised border all the way round the outer edges.
Routing and sanding
It took a whole day to route out the background material, leaving the scroll as a raised relief. Then I changed the cutter for a 6mm (1⁄4in) half round, to form a rounded edge on all the square edges. Next came the hard work, hand sanding all the relief with 120-grit paper to prepare for painting. With all this done I drilled a row of 5mm
(3⁄16in) holes at 30cm (12in) centres all round the edges to take the stainless steel self tapping screws I’d use to fasten the boards to the hull. These were than counter-bored with a 10mm (3⁄8in) drill to countersink the screw heads (when I finally screwed the boards to the boat I filled the holes with the type of glassfibre filler available from any car repair shop).
Removing more than half the thickness of the board made it much more flexible and lighter.
I marked the board where the rabbet bend was and decided to try and pre-bend it to make it easier to fit. I had previously practiced on some off-cuts to soften the plastic using a heat gun, so I had a rough idea how much heat was needed to make the board pliable. It was just a matter of keeping the gun moving over the area – wearing heavy gardening gloves I should add – and slowly the PVC softened enough to allow me to bend it. It certainly looked an odd shape.
Trial fitting
Eventually the piece was ready to trial-fit to the bow and I again used my dinghy as a work platform. This time my wife Kati joined me to hold the board in place while I fastened it. It was now pliable enough to conform to the gentle shape of the bow, but I had not bent it enough to the sharper rabbet curve. I applied more heat and was able to push it into the curve and the exact shape of the beak-head. I held it with clamps while securing it with screws.
Suddenly I had quite a fancy looking trailboard. PVC is really amazing material; when I removed the boards they stayed in the exact shape of the hull and beak-head.
I was so pleased with the result that I bought two more planks and fabricated
the starboard board exactly like the port side one. Making the second board went more smoothly – but by now I was an experienced trailboard fabricator!
The next job was to paint the boards. I wanted the background colour to be the same as the topside stripe, which was called Mauritius Blue, from International’s Perfection range, a two-pot paint with a very hard finish.
I’d used Perfection on the masts and spars years ago, and they are as good now as they were then.
However, since I was now painting PVC, not aluminium, I decided to seek advice from the manufacturers, who recommended two coats of Perfection undercoat before I applied the background and scroll colours.
Gilding and painting
Traditionally trailboard scroll-work is highlighted with gold leaf, but gilding with real gold leaf is a very specialized and expensive business, well outside my skill level. Gold paints are available but I decided to use International Toplac yellow, which would be long-lasting and contrasts markedly with the dark blue background.
After two coats of undercoat I began by painting three coats of yellow on the scrolls, very carefully, by hand.
When that was dry I painted the Mauritius Blue background while the boards were flat on the bench. That way, I didn’t need to mask all round the intricate scrollwork and was able to float the blue up to the edges in a neat line using a flat 13mm (1⁄2in) artist’s brush.
When it had all thoroughly dried I brushed on two coats of Perfection Plus clear gloss varnish – and the result is stunning, if I do say so myself.
Symbolism
Since Britannia is a British-registered boat I thought I’d add some English heraldic symbolism to my handiwork. The St George Cross at the tip of the beak-head is familiar to any Englishman and the emblem at the forward end of the scroll is my sorry attempt at the Prince of Wales feathers.
My wife thought we should hang the boards in our living room, as a sort-of psychedelic artwork, instead of on the boat. It did seem a pity to subject all my hard work to the sea and weather. Perhaps I’ll remove them as a keepsake if we eventually sell the boat.
Before screwing the boards to the bow I gave the underside a liberal coat of 3M 5200 adhesive caulk. It took three tubes, which helped glue the boards to the hull. I then trimmed the excess caulk and the long job was finished.
One thing I would say finally, is don’t start this job unless you have infinite patience. It was all extremely tedious. First cutting out the pattern, then painting three coats on the twisty scroll, then two on the background round the scroll. And you have to do it twice, remember. The result though is spectacular, and for me, well worth the cost and effort.
‘The second board went more smoothly – by now I was an experienced fabricator!’