The Real Caulking
Running In Front Of A Machine Gun

Johnny, Dominic and me

My caulking headquarters at the South beach	Johnny ready to caulk!

My caulking headquarters at the South beach is the former Backpacker's Bunker, nowadays turned into Banda's top asset, a bridal suite with carved beds, running rainwater, flushing toilet, shower. Its greenhouse (left) now, low season, in use as store for tools and materials, to which I added mine. I put some of the dhow's solar panels to have some power. They lie on top of beer crates to discourage hippo's to stand on them - as they did on some of Dom's - during their grazing at night. To have wireless internet coverage , I should sit outside.
Day 4. Dom is off to Kampala. His Uganda visa expires and should be extended. A dirty, long and heavy job of collecting forms and letters and sitting and waiting in front of empty desks of officers "out for lunch". It can, but only can, help if you carry some spare money. We had promised Dom to help reconditioning a totally shitty 12 m Ugandan canoe he bought, very cheaply, we hope.

Dom's recently bought canoe. Right: lateral view on "rib"

The Ugandan canoe is, as a species, of a completely hopeless structure (details coming: The Ugandan Canoe), but the one Dom bought was moreover grossly misfitted (see picture above). Dom mistook my promise to help him to mean "having Philemon" for a while. Then his mind had shifted from "canoe" to "carpentry", then he asked Philemon to make him some store doors in the castle. Since the list of open carpentry jobs on the island has no traceable limits, everything is unfinished, done wrong, already broken or all three at the same time, we could work at store doors as well. It would surely be more fun than working at a strictly hopeless wreck. So I thought we might embark on it. What's against causing some joy in somebody's heart? With Philemon and Doi, I prepared some store doors for fitting. Ben, who had come from Turkey to join us, was perfectly willing to earn his stay on Banda by finishing the castle electricity. Ben thought best to start with pulling out all wires already mounted. Dom, too proud of his performance, resisted, but his Kampala immigration leave deprived him, to his own benefit and our relief, of his capability to interfere, and most of it got pulled out swiftly.

Right to left: Philemon, Doi, Ben and me at work in the castle (for castle see Guide of Banda Island: Lake Fly Tower)

Philemon comes to me and casually mentions that Johnny finished the port bottom. Finished the port bottom?? In one day? I run to the dhow. Of the 90 m of those port bottom lines, 30 was redone and the rest was judged OK. Of course no one would dare to doubt Johnny's judgment. Johnny hadn't taken any lunch, and had continuously been hammering from sunrise to sunset. Our next job would be to paint all layers port side then cant the dhow on port to do the other side. But the painting starts with sanding off the red oxide, a tough job. I run to the store to find my belt sander and test it on the red oxide. After two seconds, the machine stops driving the sand paper round. I open it. The rubber driving belt got broken. What to do? Dominic is on the mainland and could bring a driving belt or a new sander on return. But that is in three days. And Johnny...I quickly make a hand sanding block and try it. The result is not encouraging: the job will be very hard. What about putting the boat straight and start caulking the deck first? I ask Philemon. I fear, Philemon whispers, that Johnny's brain is now totally set on finishing port. O, gosh, I say, also toning low (even though Johnny understands little English...), we'll have to make ten hand sanding blocks and hire island villagers for tomorrow morning. What should we pay? We agree to consult Dominic's staff. Stress! Then Philemon has news: he communicated both options to Johnny who was perfectly ready to turn to the deck first. Sighs of relief. The deck should cost us a week at least, time enough to get a working band sander and remove all port red oxide and even paint. The next days I can sit and watch the deck being done, a job that has not yet shown to cause any headaches. Then we can sand and paint the port bottom as we planned and cant to do starboard. Job under control!

The dhow gets caulked at Banda South beach

Johnny caulking (hanging at his arm: strips of blanket fibre)

Then Dominic on the phone: a replacement of the rubber driving belt of belt sander seems not available. In the obvious shop for a new belt sander, Game, belt sanders are out of stock. Elsewhere he saw band sanders, but all were too heavy for our 750 Watt generator.
O No!
Armed with my belt sander and the broken driving belt, I take a shaky 3 hour outboard canoe ferry trip 38 km Northward, across the equator, to Entebbe. The next day I let some 2000 rubber driving belts of wrong sizes go through my hands in all shops, from  the dirtiest of market sheds of Kampala to the international rubber driving belt specialist  in town, who has his Nairobi branch going for a search...all in vain. As for a new band sander, I see quite some over-750 Watt ones, too heavy for my generator. Will I be forced to buy even a new generator?? Swearing, I go to Game for some other items, where I find, despite Dom's out-of-stock message ... the very last band sander in stock on the rack, and it just matches the capacity of our generator (710 Watt)! The show saved, albeit for about the same money as Johnny will earn on our entire job. Back on Banda it is already dark. I run to my generator for a test. The machine starts. With my torch I look at the paper belt. The machine does not drive the paper round! Swearing I stumble in the dark to my tool box. Open! Look at the rubber band! But the closing bolt is of star type. I have no star screw driver. It can hold a flat screw driver but mine are to thick or to small. The sander's cover is still closed when Ben comes to say they had waited with dinner for me to arrive on the island. Ben! I shout. This fucking sander has no belt in the first place. Ben takes my torch. I show the shit: start the machine. It is working, Ben says. I look. Yes. In my nerves, in the dark in my torch light, I had just mistaken a smooth stable running belt for a still one.
The next day I start sanding off the red oxide. Philemon comes down from the deck and says Johnny will be ready with the deck the day after tomorrow. The day after tomorrow??? I run to the deck and see that the hitting of fibre in the joints is done for 80%. Fortunately the joints should be filled with an epoxy-sawdust porridge afterwards. Philemon, I say, I need at least two days to remove that bloody red oxide! I know, Philemon says, and Doi and me are only just ahead of him clearing the old caulking from the deck joints.
Dom, back from Kampala, unaware of our stress: Bert, could Philemon do some jobs for me in the castle? Well...ehhh....I explain Dom that Johnny, totally on the loose due to the ample smokeable vegetation all around, is caulking like a machine gun at three times scheduled speed, that we fail to keep up with him, but that the good news is that in 10 days or so we will have done all urgent dhow jobs, Johnny will return to Mwanza and the rest of us will have all our 8 hands available for Banda jobs. Dom resigns. Anyway he has to get back to Kampala immigration to submit some more forms and letters to his already mighty dossier, which will enable immigration to take the ponderous, time consuming and expensive decision to allow him in Uganda for another three years.

Commander sanding

The next morning I start sanding off red oxide, port. But at sunset day 2 of sanding I had only reached half of the dry part. I had totally miscalculated sanding speed. Will one side last a full week?? As he goes now, Johnny will have finished his job five days from now.
What seemed to me just a wet nose had grown to a serious cold at sunset day 2 of sanding. No sanding the next day. Ben, Dom and Johnny blamed the red oxide powder (lead oxide, PbO₃), but my mouth-nose protection had stayed clean and I was wearing safety spectacles. Anyway, it rains most of the day.

Johnny's grey saw-dust epoxy porridge overtook me. Lapped by Johnny, despite having him do 450 m of deck joints while pursuing me

After my sanding, Johnny saw more bad places (grey lines on blank wood). Moreover, linseed oil applied inside bottom by Philemon appeared outside on unexpected places.
Day before fortunately I a bad schedule and myself prevented him to take the boat back to Mwanza