Workbench

The finished product after a soaker coat of boiled linseed oil Linaza Hervido which would be an excellent name for the mayor of a small California town plagued by scandal.

I love my work table. I sit here every single day and work on my  projects. A wooden cleat for the new mast, a voodoo doll in the background, a hitched-over watering bottle on the little medicine chest, and way in the back by the lantern is the Order of the Gilded Coconut trophy still only half gilded because I am afraid of how much the little brass plaque is going to cost. That other little thing hanging downto the left of the new pully is a thumb-cleat that looked so much like a ducky that I left his little bill on there.

Those grooves in the ends of the cheek will eventually receivea plaited foxtail strap. Soon, I hope. I must decide whether to tar-dip the yarn or wait and tan the strap by dipping the whole magillicuddy in the oakbark soak when I do the sail.

The coke made of a bit of #4 copper wire pounded into the traditional rivet heads over a bit of copper strapping drilled out to make a rove. Nobody around here sells the real thing. Why they call it a "coke" is a mystery. It's the axle.