I have been messing about on boats for more years than I care to remember, but it still never ceases to amaze me how many new things you learn when you restore an old boat. One example: Who knew that the ceiling on a boat is not the ceiling at all? “Ceilings” are those wooden slats often fitted by manufacturers on cabin sides, most frequently in a fo’c’sle. The correct nautical term for the actual roof (i.e., ceiling) of the cabin is “overhead.”

I learned these archaic snippets (whose only value are in impressing fellow mariners) when I decided to renovate the forward cabin of my 1977 Down East 45 schooner, Britannia. The cabin was still covered with 40-year-old ­faded foam-backed vinyl, much of it in rotten, smelly condition, and all the woodwork needed revarnishing, if not a complete replacement.

Nautical expressions can get somewhat confusing when referring to ceilings, which are really slats, and roofs, which are overheads. So for this article I decided to use common terms. “Roof” means the underside of the fiberglass deck that forms the actual roof of the cabin, and also includes the underside of the lower deck, forward of the bunks. “Slats” are the teak strips on the sides of the hull. “Side” means the sides of the cabin, both the lower sloping sides with the slats, and also the upper sides with the port lights in them.

Teak slats might look nice, but they are extremely difficult to clean behind and can trap dust and mildew. I therefore decided to remove all 22 of these 2-by-½-inch-thick strips from the sides, and replace them with easy-to-clean hygienic plastic sheeting. With six plugged screws securing each slat to the hull ribs, that was a lot of unscrewing—132 screws, to be precise! After the sides had been washed, an immediate improvement was that the cabin appeared larger, even though it had actually been widened by only a little over an inch.

I then cut out all the dirty vinyl covering on the sides and roof, which was glued and stapled to the fiberglass deck. I removed three port lights—two on the starboard side and one to port—then temporarily sealed the outside with duct tape to try to keep any rain out until I could reinstall them after I had fitted the new plastic side coverings.

Anyone who works on boats knows it is usually much easier to strip things out than to rebuild them, and this project was no exception. After cutting out all the dirty vinyl, I then made templates by taping sheets of foam art board together, then cutting and adding bits to form the exact shape of each side. Then I traced the template on a plastic sheet on the marina dock. Plas-Tex plastic sheet comes in 4-by-8-foot panels about 1/16-inch thick. It is very pliable, waterproof and washable, yet easily trimmed with scissors and a box cutter. It is sold by Lowe’s hardware store at $20 per sheet. I used a total of five sheets.

I glued the panels to each side of the hull using contact adhesive on the side ribs and battens that run along the top of the cabin. I used gel-type ­adhesive because it is not stringy and doesn’t drip like the regular sort. This is particularly important when applying glue upside down. I screwed a teak batten along the bottom of the sheet, which stopped it from sagging between the ribs.

With the lower panels in place, I then made templates for the upper sides, which curve around the shape of the deck. These were larger than the lower sides and more difficult to glue underneath. Reinstalling the port lights helped to keep the large side panels in place.

The largest and final piece of Plas-Tex had to be glued to the forward underside of the roof. I made the template by taping the art boards to the roof with masking tape to hold them in place while I trimmed and added pieces where required.

RELATED: Restoring Your Gelcoat

After cutting a plastic sheet to shape, I pre-glued the fiberglass roof and the plastic. Sticking it up after about 10 minutes was a delicate once-off operation because contact adhesive sticks—as its name suggests—on contact. I lay on my back while my wife slid the large sticky sheet over me, and I carefully placed it where I had made marks from the template. It was became a question of “push it up and hope,” and then pressing it in place with arms and legs while the glue made contact. I then made props to hold the sheet in place while the glue hardened.

I had originally trimmed the sheets to overlap each other by about half an inch. This enabled me to score through both overlapping layers at the same time, using a box cutter with a sharp new blade. I then stripped off the top layer and peeled away the inside layer, leaving a perfect butt joint between the two pieces. It was just a matter of cleaning excess glue with solvent.

I cut other teak trim pieces from the slats I had removed, varnished them, then glued them to cover the joints ­between the sides and roof.

There were also two ­sections that needed covering in the roof of the cabin, between the deck beams and around the hatch. For this I used the same tongue-and-groove plastic boards I had used throughout the rest of the boat. It is called plank paneling and is PVC planking used as wainscot panels on house walls. Each board is 7 inches wide and ¼-inch thick and comes in a pack of three boards, each 8 feet long, for $20 from Lowe’s. It’s reversible; one is molded with two strips and the other with three thinner strips. I decided to use the two-strip side. An important benefit, particularly on a boat, is the rot- and mildew-free lifetime guarantee, along with the ability to wash it with soap and water. I had also found that the thickness gave better thermal insulation from the hot deck compared with thin vinyl. I measured and trimmed these panels individually to accommodate any unevenness between the deck beams, then slotted them into the previous panel, and discreetly nailed them to the wooden beads that had supported the original vinyl. I needed only one pack to ­complete this small area.

These improvements made the cabin appear much larger than before because the dark wood slats tended to bring the sides inward. It is also brighter and much easier to clean.

I added a second 12-volt dome light to provide better light into this cabin. I also wired two 120-volt sconce lights and connected both systems to a double switch mounted near the door. This is a much more practical method than groping in the dark for the tiny overhead dome-light switches.

There are two hanging lockers, one to each side, that had been varnished with multiple layers over the years. I removed both locker doors, along with the pin rails around the shelf tops. I also removed the cabin door and the chain locker door and framework, along with four sliding drawers. I took them home to restore in my garage. The locker sides and tops had to be stripped in situ with varnish remover, then scraped down to the original teak. This was then cleaned with teak cleaner and given two coats of satin varnish, which brought out the beautiful golden tones of the wood. The inside of the lockers was then painted white.

As part of the renovation, I wondered what to do about the imitation-teak laminate shelf covering on top of the lockers. These were not scratched or damaged because Formica laminate is very resilient, but they had lost their luster over time. After experimenting with a small section, I decided to varnish them with clear gloss varnish. I cleaned the laminate with soap and water, then slapped on a liberal coat of clear gloss with a 2-inch brush. I then left the tops untouched for a week so the varnish could thoroughly dry to a hard finish. It set to a fine, smooth, shiny finish with the advantage that when it gets scratched—which it undoubtedly will—it will be easy to retouch with a dab of new varnish.

I then reinstalled the freshly varnished pin rails around the edges of the shelves. But instead of the square corners, which the original pin rail had, I made rounded corners out of spare wood. These look much nicer, but more important, they are not as painful when you bump your arm against them as the boat rolls.

We had taken the foam bunks to our home to wash the covers. When everything was replaced, we found ourselves with a pristine new double cabin. It had not cost a lot of money, if you don’t count the effort—but it was all worth it.

Costs

Serial DIYer Roger Hughes is a frequent contributor to Cruising World. See more of Britannia’s renovation projects at schooner-britannia.com.

The post Forward Cabin Makeover appeared first on Cruising World.

Since the arrival of GPS, I haven’t had much use for the chart table on my brigantine schooner, Britannia. Most of our passagemaking navigation is done on the Raymarine multifunction display on the helm pod, then transferred to a paper chart on the saloon table roughly every hour. The chart table was only used to store things that didn’t have a permanent home and as a desk for my laptop.

Considering that the chart table and seat took up over forty percent of the length of the portside saloon, it was not a very efficient utilization of space. The layout also left a lot to be desired. The space between the table and companionway ladder was a narrow 10 inches, and squeezing into the seat frequently resulted in accidentally tripping breakers on the master power distribution panel at the side of the table. The half bulkhead also impeded sliding in and out of the seats when the saloon table was up. It had to go.

I’m a traditionalist; I wouldn’t have built a square-rigged schooner if I wasn’t. However, advancements in equipment, particularly electrical and navigational devices, should cause us to rethink some of the more traditional methods and layouts … such as chart tables. Our trusty sextant served us well on past ocean passages but now hangs in its teak box on the bulkhead, a nod towards bygone days.

I thought about extending the saloon seating into the corner, where it would have made a lovely, snug spot in a seaway. However, not having a chart table at all might be a drawback if I eventually decide to sell.

I found a compromise in one of the antique malls around Orlando, Florida, where I live. It was a beautiful secretary desk, with a hinged drop-down lid with drawers and compartments inside and four large drawers below, adding nicely to our storage. With the lid open, it is nearly the same size as the chart table and easily fit in the existing space. Unfortunately, it was stained a horrible brown/black color and I wasn’t quite sure what type of wood it was made of, but I took a chance and bought it for $214.

The Dismantling

The chart table and seat were built 9 inches higher than the remainder of the saloon sole, for which I could only think of one reason: so anyone sitting there could look out the ports. I knew dismantling it would be a tough job, because in some places the molding was a sandwich of ¾-inch marine plywood plus two layers of fiberglass, all heavily bonded to the side of the hull. I christened it “Stonehenge” because the manufacturers clearly never meant it to be removed or to fall over! It certainly was well-made, but a pity it was so big and unergonomic. I think the Druids who built Stonehenge could have actually designed it better.

Before starting to dismantle this edifice, everything loose was removed from the saloon and galley, and things which could not be moved covered with cloths. I knew what was about to happen.

Unscrewing the teak chart table was easy enough, it was just sitting on top of the molding. However, it was so heavy two people had to lift it off the boat. The circuit-breaker panel at the side of the table also came out, along with the two small drawers, the cupboard and all the teak fiddles.

I then set about sawing the fiberglass support structure into small enough pieces to pass through the companionway. I used a combination of circular saw, reciprocating saw and oscillating cutter, along with a big hammer and pry bar! It was hard going, with fiberglass dust all over the place. I tried to minimize this by positioning my Shop-Vac nozzle near the cutting edges of the saws. Altogether, including the chart table, the pieces weighed an astounding 200 pounds.

Next, I attacked the half bulkhead which no longer needed to be so high. This was two sections of ¾-inch plywood bulkheads, with fiberglass in between. I cut the inner bulkhead out, carefully removed the teak edging trim, reshaped the panels and then refitted the trim to form an arm rest. During this exercise, I needed to keep the boat’s electrics running — particularly the air conditioning — so I had to be very careful not to cut through any wires.

I soaked my aching back in Britannia‘s hot tub every evening.

Unfortunately, the builders had not extended the teak and holly cabin sole under the chart table, as they had on other parts of the boat. It was just raw plywood, under which were the conglomeration of wires leading to the electrical panel. I cut the floor completely out and after rerouting the wires I made a new floor with ¾-inch plywood, including a hatch to give easy access to three seacocks and filters below.

With Stonehenge fully excavated, I now had a large open space to play with.

Wired Up: For the new wiring, a 20-foot length of multi conductor cable solved the problem of ­purchasing ­individual lengths of wires and saved a bundle in the process.

The Rewiring

The next task was to relocate the electrical panel which was a spaghetti maze of wires, bus bars, connectors and relays; some were original (circa 1977), some I’d installed when I fitted new equipment. The whole conglomeration could only be described as a wiring nightmare that had needed sorting out for a long time. Some wires went to devices not in the cockpit and some to the engine instruments mounted lower down on the pedestal.

Rewiring the panel, with its hodgepodge of wires, could easily turn into a real mess if I got the wires muddled up. At moments like this, my wife always reminds me of the timeless sailor’s adage: “If it ain’t broke, it will be when I fix it.” Actually, that slogan really needs to be tattooed on my right arm, so I can contemplate it before I start complicated projects like this.

I planned to reposition the panel higher up, where the breakers could no longer be accidentally tripped. For this I built a teak framework under the curve of the deck, then modified a spare louvered door to give access to the wires leading to the panel above. I fitted a piece of ½-inch plywood below the panel to carry the four generator and water-tank gauges.

There are different ways to rewire an old boat. You can buy individual lengths of wire. Or you can convert to a National Marine Electronics Association (NMEA) networking system, which interconnects nearly everything and which can be read on a multifunction display screen, including engine instruments. You can even convert to Wi-Fi wireless and have hardly any wires at all. The last two options were well outside my budget for this project.

I decided to use regular wire, but instead of buying individual lengths I bought a 20-foot length of multiconductor cable containing 20 wires of 14 AWG (American wire gauge). These are all different colors and very much cheaper than buying individual wires.

However, a problem can occur when using multiconductor covered wire: individual wires can become hot, even with just 12 volts. So the first thing I did, using a box cutter, was to completely strip off the outer rubber casing and pull the wire loom out. This separated the wires and made them less susceptible to overheating. I could also easily pull a few strands out of the cluster, which went to places other than the electrical master panel.

I drilled a hole in the cockpit sole and wound the cluster of wires all the way to the back of the electrical panel, supporting them as necessary. I enclosed all the wires coming out of the pod in a nice, plastic, split-wire casing, just to keep them tidy down the side of the pedestal.

I then disconnected the AC shore input and hung the distribution panel from a hook in the ceiling beams so I could easily work on the back. For temporary lighting and power, I used an extension cord direct from the marina dock.

As each wire was replaced, I switched the power back on to check if the equipment still worked. It was a slow, tedious and at times strenuous process to reach behind the panels and pull the old wires out. I also used an awful lot of crimp connectors.

On the 120-volt AC side, the heavy-duty cables leading from the two ship/shore power plugs were long enough to reach the repositioned panel and thankfully did not need extending, just sorting out from the hopeless tangle in which they had been installed.

It took four weeks to completely rewire the panel and then fix it to the framework I had built, next to where the new desk was to fit.

I was actually quite amazed that everything continued to work as it had previously. For once I proved the old adage wrong. I didn’t actually need that tattoo just to remember to work carefully and methodically.

The Nice New Desk

During breaks between all this dismantling and rewiring, I found time to renovate the bureau/desk in my garage. The moment I put my sander to it I knew I had a gem; it was real wood with a beautiful walnut veneer! It was therefore a ­pleasure to strip all the stain, clean the veneer and revarnish it with Total Boat wood varnish from Jamestown Distributors. I even found some ornate brass drawer handles online to replace the horrible black-painted handles. They were only $2 each and look superb on the curved walnut drawers.

To fit my large-screen laptop, I removed the vertical dividers and mounted the five small drawers in the top of the desk. With the flap open, the table is about the same size as the original nav table, but when closed it takes up less than half the space.

I hoped my companionway measurements were accurate as my wife and I carefully manhandled the posh new desk down the deck and into the cockpit, trying not to scratch the newly varnished sides. On its side, it slid through the opening with about a half inch to spare. Whew. But an inch is as good as a fathom for a job like this. The desk then slid sideways and fit under the curve of the deck. I infilled between the ornate feet with a plywood plinth to stop things from rolling under the desk.

I already had a comfortable folding deck chair which nestled perfectly up to the desk, and it can be used at the dining table when needed. As an added touch, I bought an antique-looking globe for bottle storage that fits nicely next to the bureau. This is located in two teak collars in the floor. It is now considerably easier and much more comfortable to sit at the desk, and the saloon appears very much bigger. The electrical panel is easier to operate, and not a single breaker has been accidentally tripped. I even sold the old chart table, offsetting some of the cost.

The remodeled area is now more akin to a neat little office than a boat’s navigation area. Smaller boats than Britannia might greatly increase living space by redesigning their chart table area. It just needs a bit of bold thinking.

Serial do-it-yourselfer Roger Hughes is a frequent contributor to Cruising World.

Materials, Costs & Suppliers

Sheet of plywood
Local hardware store $47

Multiconductor wire
wireandcableyourway.com $75

Terminal connectors
Local hardware store $20

Secretary desk
Local antique mall $214

Varnish for desk
jamestowndistributors.com $32

New drawer handles
lawlesshardware.com $23

Bar globe
homedepot.com $96

Sale of chart table ($100)

Total $407

The post Nav Station Transformation appeared first on Cruising World.

The portside cabin on Britannia, my 1977 Down East brigantine schooner, was an odd layout, which I could only flatteringly call a “traditional” concept. The bunk ­configuration was ridiculous! A large 36-inch-wide-by-19-inch-deep section had been cut out of the bed to create a seat. To use it as a berth, there was an infill cushion, similar to what is often used to turn two V-berth bunks into a single bed. In seat mode, with the cushion removed, the remaining ­mattress was an absurdly narrow 12 ­inches wide in the middle!

Making matters worse, a row of four lockers was outboard of the bunk, another reason that it was a narrow place to sleep. These were pokey little spaces with doors that couldn’t be opened when the bed was made because they had been built flush with the 4-inch-thick foam mattress.

Above the lockers was a shelf edged with pin rail, which looked very nice, but there were only 4 inches between the rail and the turn of the hull, so the actual shelf space was quite limited. The final straw was that this was the only one of our three cabins that did not have a hanging locker or a 120-volt AC power socket.

I decided to make a few changes.

The first step was to ­dismantle the side lockers. I removed the full-length pin rail from the shelf by drilling out 20 teak plugs and ­stainless wood screws (the rail was ­only 80 inches long!), and did the same with the locker doors and their frames. This ­widened the berth by 8 inches all along its length and had the immediate effect of making the cabin seem larger.

The original vinyl liner on the hull and ceiling was faded and torn, so I stripped it all out with a box cutter, exposing the hull and underside of the deck. This entailed twisting out hundreds of staples using long-nosed pliers; the fasteners were spaced about an inch apart. I’m amazed by how many screws and staples were used in the construction of this boat — no wonder Britannia weighs in at 20 tons!

RELATED: Standing Rigging Replacement

To re-cover the cabin sides, I bought two 4-by-8-foot sheets of Plas-Tex PVC paneling from Lowe’s. This is 1/16-inch thick, and very pliable, ­waterproof, washable, and easily trimmed with scissors or a box ­cutter. I have used this ­material throughout the boat to ­replace all the tattered and faded ­original vinyl side panels.

I removed the cabin’s two ports, then made templates of the areas that needed to be re-covered by using art board from Walmart. Making throwaway templates is a bit tedious, but I’ve found it is the only way I can ensure an accurate fit on a boat, with its many angles and curves and uneven edges. Next, I transferred my templates to the plastic sheets on the marina dock and cut them out, then glued them to the side of the cabin with contact adhesive. For this, I ­prefer the gel-type adhesive that doesn’t “string” — a handy trait when gluing upside down. To hold the overhead panels for the side deck in place while the glue set, I used boards to spread out the load and made props to hold them in place. Replacing and re-caulking the ports also helped to hold the Plas-Tex where I wanted it.

The original lighting for this cabin — totally ­inadequate — was a single 12-volt DC dome light and a small ­reading light in the corner. Before fitting a new ceiling to the overhead, I wired in a ­second dome. I ­also installed two 120-volt AC sconce lights on the walls and wired them into the shore power. I connected both sets of lights to switches near the door, which is much more practical than groping in the dark for the tiny overhead dome-light switches. The lights can now be turned on and off using the wall switch, or individually from their ­respective lamp switches.

While rewiring the lighting, I also installed a twin 120-volt AC power socket.

The cabin was now ­beginning to look a lot more functional and clean, but there was still the bare overhead ­ceiling to deal with. To re-­cover it, I used tongue-and-groove ­wainscot-style PVC boards, which I got at Lowe’s and have used throughout the rest of the boat. Each board is 7 ­inches wide, ¼ inch thick and 8 feet long. One side is molded with two strips and the other with three thinner strips; I used the two-strip side. A benefit of using this material on a boat is the rot- and mildew-free lifetime guarantee it comes with. Plus, it’s easy to clean with soap and water. Its thickness also provides better thermal insulation through a hot deck than thin vinyl material would.

Each panel had to be ­measured and trimmed individually to account for the taper of the cabin ceiling. I used stainless-steel brads and blind-nailed the new covering to the ­existing wooden battens that had ­supported the original vinyl.

With 6-foot-8-inch headroom, the cabin had plenty of height, so I decided to reposition two of the original locker doors and frame above the head of the bunk to form a large storage locker. I cut a base from a ½-inch sheet of plywood and supported it with battens screwed to the bulkhead and sides. I also glued a sheet of teak veneer to the underside and varnished it to match the bulkhead. Then I fitted two of the old locker doors to the front. My wife, Kati, wanted maximum access for bedding and pillows in this large dry area, so I left it partition-free. It actually has more cubic capacity than the four original side lockers. Its base, meanwhile, provided me a spot to mount the new dome light, where it can be switched on and off when in bed.

My next goal was to get rid of the seat and cushion surrounding the infill. I twisted out another pile of staples and removed the foam. Then I dismantled the seat, exposing a large space that was just too big to be left unutilized.

RELATED: Replacing Teak Decks is a Monumental Job

I fit a base in the bottom of the cavity to cover the wires passing along the cabin floor. Then I took the panel under the seat that faced into the cabin and added a piano hinge to its bottom so it could open downward. At the level of the old seat, I built in a shelf and then used the remaining two original locker doors to finish off the front, bringing it up to the height of the rest of the bunk. Kati had the brilliant idea of simply hinging the plywood top flush with the bunk boards, to allow total access from the top for larger items.

The top edge of the new wall under the bunk was finished off with a straight teak fiddle. By replacing the seat, I added more than 10 cubic feet of storage under the bed. Add in the overhead locker, and we gained 13 cubic feet.

But I wasn’t done yet. A 2-foot-deep locker protruded into the cabin (and into the bunk) with an access door ­into the forepeak. I’d used this space as a bosun’s locker. I tapered the once-straight side of it that landed on the bunk back toward amidships and gained another 5 inches of width at the foot of the bed.

The cabin still had no hanging locker, so I decided to transfer everything from my bosun’s locker into the new space under the bed. Then I removed the three shelves in the locker and fitted a louvered door that had been left over from remodeling the forward head. This large hanging locker can now be accessed from both the forepeak and port cabins.

To finish things off, I ­also fit a raised shelf over the end of the bed, just below the ­portlight (having first made a template, of course), and faced it with repurposed pin rail.

Kati had previously ­removed the cover from the bed foam to machine wash it. I glued the original seat foam inlay permanently to the mattress foam with contact ­adhesive, and added more foam to the foot of the bed to compensate for the space gained by modifying what was now our hanging locker. This enlarged sheet of foam was just too unwieldy to handle in one piece, so I cut it in half. Then Kati made new covers. The new bed measures 54 inches wide at the head (U.S. double bed), 27 inches at the foot and 81 inches long.

The cabin has now been completely transformed. It was well worth the cost and ­effort, and makes an excellent sea berth, being amidships and subject to very little fore and aft movement.

Roger Hughes has spent six years and counting restoring his Down East 45, Britannia. For more on his projects, visit his website.

Devilish Details

• Something that is rarely mentioned in projects like this is the time and patience it takes to finish the trim, especially when reusing much of the 35-year-old original wood, as I did on this alteration and, indeed, as I have throughout the boat. The original lockers and all the teak-faced plywood had multiple layers of varnish that looked as though it had just been slapped on over the years. This had to be stripped to bare wood, then re-varnished to make everything look uniform and presentable. For this I used nearly a gallon of Goof Off semi-paste paint stripper and a lot of elbow grease. I glued more than 50 teak wood plugs into recessed screw holes, shaved them smooth and varnished them to match the surrounding wood.

• The Plas-Tex plastic sheets on the cabin sides needed trim along the edges, which I cut from surplus teak strips and varnished. It also took two whole days to cut, varnish, and fit trim around corners and joints that I had not quite managed to match as accurately as I would have liked.

• It took a gallon of white gloss to put two coats of paint on all the new shelves and the inside of the hanging locker. This finishing-off process took nearly as long as the construction.

Material Costs

• Art board for templates, (Walmart), $9.75
• Two 120-volt sconce lights, (Home Depot), $9
• One dome light, (Defender), $32.99
• Two sheets of Plas-Tex sheets, (Lowe’s), $39.98
• Two packs Plank paneling, (Lowe’s), $46.94
• One sheet 1/2-inch plywood, (Lowes), $15
• Piano hinge, (Lowe’s), $5.75
• Goof Off paint stripper, (Lowe’s), $24.98
• Total: $184.39

The post Cabin Upgrade appeared first on Cruising World.

Perhaps nothing can change the look and feel of a boat quite as profoundly as new cushions or canvas. Whether you’re updating your saloon, installing a new dodger or fitting a new mainsail cover, new canvas work is an investment and not something you want to repeat frequently. So it’s important to pick the right materials for the project the first time. With the abundance of options available, though, how do you know what will be up to the task?

To sort through this, and to get ideas for my own boat, I reached out to some experts in the field of marine canvas work — Matt Grant, vice president of Sailrite; Kate Gable Seremeth, yacht interior designer; and Jeff Serrie, owner of Island Marine Canvas in Newport, Rhode Island — to get their take on how to choose the right fabric for the job.

The Inside Job

Everyone I spoke with agrees that the saloon and cabins are where you should have some fun with your fabric choices. “Saloon cushions and other cushions inside your boat are a place where you can get creative with different fabric patterns and textures,” says Grant. “Don’t be afraid to mix and match different types of materials to create interest. The primary importance, however, should be selecting a fabric that will be durable enough for a boat. This includes moisture and fade resistance. It’s also a great idea to choose a fabric that will be easy to clean.”

From the interior design perspective, Seremeth adds: “Although fabric can be a finishing touch, it also makes a strong statement down below and above deck. If it is a refit, I try to be very conscious of the existing mood of the boat and try to let the fabric fit in. What is the focal point of the boat? Do I want to grab attention from that or keep the upholstery subtle so as not to distract too much?”

Some fabric choices for interior cushions include Sunbrella, which has an upholstery line specifically for this purpose; if you prefer a leather look, check out Nauga Soft by Uniroyal, or one of the many Ultraleather products. “Be mindful that Ultraleather is expensive relative to other options, but it is the only choice for a true leather look and feel while having the characteristics desired within a boat,” Grant notes.

Beyond the brand names, qualities you should look for in fabrics include high double-rub ratings (a measure of abrasion resistance, with 30,000-plus being very good) and fade resistance (search for solution-dyed fabric, which means the color runs to the yarn’s core). Restrict the options to a marine-appropriate fiber type (acrylic, polyester, olefin, PVC or polyurethane).

What are some pitfalls to avoid? Whether you’re planning to do the project yourself or hire someone to do it for you, request fabric samples beforehand. “You want to see the actual colors in your boat, and know that the material is something that you can work with,” Serrie says. “If you’re purchasing material from a fabric store, consider bringing a piece to your canvas guy first to make sure that it’s suitable for the intended purpose. If you’re sewing it yourself, try running a sample through your machine first.”

Grant recommends that you select the best fabric and foam you can. “The wrong fabric will fade prematurely and perhaps sun rot, or even transfer colors to other surfaces,” he says. “­Poor-quality foam may break down more quickly and no longer be comfortable, or if not covered properly it can become a heavy, water-saturated brick and mildew quickly.”

Don’t forget to consider your lifestyle and plans when choosing your fabrics, and think about the durability of the fabric. When working on a project, Seremeth asks questions such as whether the cruisers have children, grandchildren or pets. “I always choose fabrics that are highly durable for the seat cushions, and if there is a pattern or fabric that the client and I are in love with but isn’t as durable, I will place that fabric on a pillow or something that can be easily replaced,” she says.

Another option if you’re concerned with cushion breathability or fabric cost is to use a different material on the bottoms. “If a cushion can be flipped, use the primary fabric on both the top and bottom surfaces,” Grant said. “But if the cushion won’t be flipped, consider saving a little by using cushion underlining fabric on the bottom. This will help with breathability, and it also sticks a bit to help keep the cushion from sliding.”

The Outdoor Life

The materials you use for projects on deck can have a big impact on your day-to-day living in terms of comfort and resistance to sun exposure. “Sunbrella is a favorite for good reason,” Serrie says. “It’s versatile, holds up well, is breathable and is available in a wide variety of colors and patterns. The downsides are that it’s not very chafe resistant, so you’ll want to reinforce high-chafe areas, and the initial water-resistant coating does wear off, so you’ll need to periodically use a waterproofing spray like 303 Fabric Guard.”

If having a completely waterproof dodger or bimini is important to you, an alternative to a woven material like Sunbrella is a vinyl material such as Stamoid or Weblon Regatta. These fabrics offer a nice, clean look, stay waterproof, and are very durable.

“There are some premium fabric alternatives that feature a base of Sunbrella fabric that has been ‘improved upon,’ but these should be carefully discussed with your fabric supplier before making a selection,” Grant advises. “Most of these options improve the water resistance of the product or simply change its aesthetic.”

When it comes to sail covers, stick to a woven material like Sunbrella because breathability and UV resistance are key for protecting your sails and keeping them mildew free.

If you will be cruising in tropical climes and plan to spend lots of time in the cockpit, consider adding a sunshade for use at anchor. A loosely woven vinyl mesh such as Textilene performs well for this purpose because you can still see through it and feel a breeze, yet not have the glare from the sun in your eyes.

As with most projects, don’t overlook the details when doing canvas work. Your choice of thread can literally make or break your results. “Using the wrong thread is a very bad idea,” Grant says. “If the thread fails, the seams separate and edges have a tendency to get ripped before the item can be resewn. Use only UV-resistant polyester thread for outdoor projects. Make sure to select the correct size. For saloon projects use either polyester thread or a UV-treated nylon thread. Nylon stretches better than polyester, so for stretchy interior fabric selections it is the correct product.” Also be sure to stick to marine-quality zippers, and in particular, make sure the zippers for outside use are UV treated.

Cushion Comfort

The foam you fill your cushions with is just as important (if not more so) than the fabric covering it. Choose poorly and your cushions could be uncomfortable and misshapen before their time. Or worse, full of mildew.

In general, the foam options for use on board are closed-cell foam, polyurethane foam, dry-fast foam and latex foam. Polyurethane foam is the most common choice for interior cushions. When selecting polyurethane foam, be aware of the density rating (measured in pounds), which will give you an idea about its quality and longevity, and the firmness (usually described as soft, medium or firm). For cushions that will see heavy use, consider a 2-pound density or higher. “Be careful when purchasing your foam, and use a reputable vendor,” Serrie says. “Quality foam can be hard to find, and you get what you pay for.”

Grant agrees: “When it comes to foam for the cushions, spend as much as you can afford. The foam and batting will be the first to lose shape and provide inadequate support. Look for higher density when using polyurethane foam, and be sure it has an antibacterial agent. Polyurethane foam will hold moisture, so I recommend wrapping it with a thin plastic barrier, called silk film, if the cushion will see wet bathing suits. Don’t forget to use high-quality polyester batting to round out your cushions to a pleasing shape and to help fill out corners.”

Closed-cell foam, also called flotation foam, is extremely firm and dense (think life jackets), and is a good choice for cockpit cushions since it is nonabsorbent and floats. Quick-dry foam is another option for either interior or exterior uses. Due to its structure, liquid can flow right through it, so cushions won’t stay soggy if they get wet. This type of foam is also extremely breathable and is a nice choice for a mattress if you cruise in the tropics. Keep in mind, though, that if you use this type of foam for cockpit cushions, it does not float. Latex foam is typically used just for mattresses. While pricey, it is very durable and naturally resistant to mold, mildew, bacteria and dust mites.

Whether you do it yourself or go with a pro, updating your boat’s canvas and upholstery is a great way to give it a completely new look. Overwhelmed by the color and pattern choices? Yacht interior designer Seremeth says to just take a chance. “Upholstery is one of the few things on a boat that can be easily changed — so why not have fun with it?”

Resources:

Island Marine Canvas, Newport, RI

Sailrite

Track Studios | Kate Seremeth

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Jen Brett is CW’s senior editor

The post A Fresh Look appeared first on Cruising World.

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

Decorating Aboard

The post Decorating Aboard appeared first on Cruising World.