Crawling around on the floor, drawing perpendicular bisectors to establish the correct curve for the bulkhead, which defines the deck. Music blasting at a pretty fair, though not quite deafening, pitch. Beer almost empty. Okay, second beer almost empty. Hoping to get both bulkhead curves defined, cut, and in before shutting down. Look up at clock. After midnight. Crap. I thought it was about ten. A good thing this shop is pretty sound-tight or the neighbors would have called the police months ago.
So is this what crazy old men do? Should this be termed eccentric behavior? (It happens often.) Should my keeper be concerned? Oh wait—I don’t have a keeper. Whatever it is, I kinda like it. If you’re going to live alone, you might as well run large.
One last snow-blow for the weekend storm this morning, then back to work. Here’s the view out the front glass door of the shop:
Anyhow, the midnight geometry worked and the curve has me intrigued. The radius increases as you move from bulkhead to transom. This should make for some fun cyphering tomorrow—every deck rafter is a different curve. If the plans are correct, it ends up looking just fine, but my mind is coming up with a pretty bizarre shape. No sense over-thinking it.