© Nick Mockridge

Hotfoot Rehab

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The United States is littered with abandoned, faded, peeling boats that are simply screaming for attention.
They're not the latest technological marvels, but they offer something
better, the chance to own your own boat and to create recreation out of
rubbish. Thus it doesn't necessarily require much financial commitment
to become a boat owner, merely a commitment to patience, hard work, and
the gleaning of advice and guidance from your local experts. I know;
I've experienced it first hand.

Hotfoot 20, hull No. 19, built in 1986, was sitting forlornly in a
Southern California storage facility in early 2004. The paint was
peeling from the spars, and the fiberglass hull and decks were faded
and dirty. Yet this Doug Hemphill-designed rocket-a lightweight design
that later would be modified slightly and become the Ultimate
20-offered stability for family day sailing and speed and excitement
for local PHRF racing. Could it be salvaged and returned to racing
condition on a budget governed by southern California house prices and
college funds? Only, I decided, if I did all the work myself without
the luxury of boat hoists, sandblasters, and paint shops.

After much negotiation, the owner was persuaded to sell the complete
boat and galvanized trailer, and I dragged it to a friend's warehouse
for closer inspection. It certainly appeared that its bedraggled
condition was merely cosmetic and that all hull and deck joints and
stress points seemed as strong as they were the day the boat was built.

Once I'd removed all the deck hardware I figured that there were five
fundamental jobs that required attention: 1) Remove the antifouling, as
I planned on storing the boat on the trailer; 2) refinish the hull,
which was faded from red to dull pink; 3) refinish the decks, which
were buried under many years of dust and debris; 4. repaint the spars
which were peeling after 18 years of exposure to the California
sunshine; and 5) replace the wilted sails.

Below the waterline

I started with the messiest job, the antifouling. Due to the very
nature of the Hotfoot design, working on the bottom of the hull
required lying on the ground, as the fully retractable keel meant that
the boat sat low on the trailer. Armed with a scraper, a gallon can of
fiberglass paint stripper (Interstrip 299E) to prevent damage to the
underlying gelcoat, and coveralls, goggles and breathing mask to
protect my skin and clothes from drips, I brushed on the stripper, left
it for five minutes, and simply scraped off the loosened coating. 
What I hadn't expected was the epoxy barrier coating under the
antifouling. This I long-boarded using 600-grit sandpaper in order to
fair and rough up the surface in preparation for a fresh coat of paint.

The keel proved more of a challenge, as stripping it where it passed
through the hull would cause a horrendous mess. I carefully located the
fulcrum point of the hull, and having removed the two through-bolts on
the keel's head-which prevent the keel from dropping completely through
the keel box and plummeting to the ocean's bottom-I used a fork lift
(that just happened to share the warehouse with my boat) and lengths of
Kevlar line to lift the boat high enough above the trailer to allow the
keel to fall out of the hull. Once out and lying on a pallet, the same
attention was given to the keel as had been given to the hull - a
simple but messy 5 hours of stripping and fairing.

Having prepared the area below the waterline, I turned my attention to
the topsides.  Initially I had hoped to buff the old gel into a
burnished red finish. Sadly the sun damage was too extensive and to
make the boat look as I wanted, I had no choice but to take a more
involvedapproach, and paint rather than polish. Although the hull shape
appeared surprisingly fair, I long-boarded the entire hull with
220-grit sandpaper both to smooth and to key it in preparation for the
paint. This was undoubtedly the most physically demanding job, and took
me the best part of three days. The result, however, was worth the
effort.

Painting the hull

My next big challenge was the painting itself. I was tempted to use
two-part epoxy paint for durability, but at the last moment chose a
single-part yacht enamel, Interlux Toplac Enamel, for ease of
application. My initial dream of spraying the whole boat was brought
down to earth with the realization that without a proper boat hoist I
couldn't get the hull high enough for long enough both to spray the
bottom and give the white enamel under the waterline time to dry.
Instead, I chose to roll and tip the bottom from centerline to
waterline on alternate sides while the hull was propped at an angle
using 1' by 6' boards; no primer was needed as the underlying coat of
epoxy was in good condition.

The red above the waterline, however, was the epitome of ease. Using an
air compressor and spray gun I sprayed two coats of single-part yacht
enamel, Interlux Toplac Enamel, on each side of the hull, resulting in
a lustrous, brilliant finish that contrasted elegantly with the bright
white below. It was as quick andeffortless as it sounds-each coat took
about 40 minutes to apply, and at a cost of only $80 the hull looked as
good as new.

When it came to spraying the keel I chose a slightly different paint.
My concern was that every time I raised and lowered the keel it would
rub against the keel box and the deck opening, stripping paint and
causing drag. Although I again used a one-part paint, for this
application I chose Interlux Brightside for superior abrasion
resistance; had money been no object I would definitely have preferred
to use a two-part epoxy for the keel.

The spars provided more problems. My idea to have them sand-blasted and
re-sprayed was put to rest for two reasons: a local yard quoted me
$1,300 for the job, and the ever-helpful Mike Angus of YachtTech Spars
in British Columbia-the supplier of the original spars-suggested that
sand-blasting was too aggressive. He also suggested I use Awlgrip to
recoat. However, due to financial constraints [According to the
manufacturer, Awlgrip is best applied by professional painters.-Ed] I
sanded the old paint off the spars using an orbital sander and 150-grit
paper, applied a zinc chromate primer to the bare metal, and then
sprayed Interlux Multithane Two-Part Primer and Interlux Interthane
Plus Two-Part Enamel instead of the Awlgrip. I lightly sanded between
each coat and the result, costing around $200 and about 10 hours of
work, was a smooth and clean white mast, boom, and spinnaker pole.

Addressing the deck and sails

The application of a pressure washer over the decks, cabin and cockpit
turned them from a brownish-gray to a matte white. Eighteen years of
exposure to the California sun had stripped them of their gloss and,
although now clean, they were porous to water and dirt; I had little
choice but to paint them also. This final paint job was easy. The
pressure washer with a detergent and water mix had removed all the
grease and dirt and had left me with the molded non-skid perfectly
prepared. It only took a 9-inch roller, two cans of Interlux Interdeck,
a total of $60 and about one hour of labor to make them look, and act,
as good as new.

Finally, I turned my thoughts to the sails. There were a few excellent
sailmakers who had already made PHRF sails for the Hotfoot 20 class,
and although I was tempted to go with one of them I instead decided to
go with a small New England loft-Vermont Sailing Partners (ex-Shore
Sails VT) -whose work I had admired over the years. I sent the
multitude of measurements that Bill Fastiggi, a top Lightning racer who
also ran Vermont Sailing Partners' loft, had requested, and he produced
a beautiful suit of sails. The only problem was that I'd supplied him
with the wrong luff measurement and so the main, built exactly to my
specifications, was 10-inches too long for the mast. I returned the
sail to Fastiggi and he rebuilt it to the correct measurements at no
cost to me.

Six months of part-time labor and $1,400 in paint, new running rigging,
new standing rigging and selective new deck hardware, saw Hotfoot No.
119 Heffalump, in its new red livery and sporting its new Pentex racing
sails (my only other investment), finally kiss the cool Pacific waters
off Santa Barbara, Calif.