The varnish and stain were removed after the tropical sun and sea had taken their toll.

I had just put down the orbital sander. My fingers were still buzzing as if I was still holding it, the vacuum was still on connected to the sander, sucking dust out of the sander. I turned it off and looked back on the smooth plane of the mahogany cabin top, which I had just finished stripping, starting at the stern and finishing on the bow. I stepped onto the dock and a neighbor walked by casually saying, “Better you than me.”

While the remark was meant in an offhand, humorous way, it stuck with me. Somewhere along the lines, most people ran out of time for this kind of shenanigans on a boat, but not too much in the distant past, varnish was a fact of life. Before plastic fantastic production boats with more stainless steel than soul, there was a time when the concept of work wasn’t something to try to get out of, but a way to make things better. When actually spending time working on the boat was a link to how well the boat would function. Walk any docks, and the boats that are the head turners are the ones whose owners have that working bond with their boats, and must likely, the ones with well kept varnish.

Our trip from the East coast, through the Caribbean, and back to the West coast was tough on our varnish. There were a few marks from the time the spinnaker pole wouldn’t cooperate, and the time we launched the dinghy in an experimental, but ultimately incorrect way. We kept it up, regularly applying coats as we went along the way, but by the time we reached marina land, the tropical sun and salt of two oceans had won. The varnish was shot and the mahogany underneath seemed lifeless. It was time for a full on stripping and sanding job and finally the day came when we could squeeze in a few hours away from shore side life and get to it. Here’s how it all went down.

First came perhaps the most important part--checking the weather. Rain, fog, high humidity--all bad. Too hot or sunny and the varnish will start to bubble as it goes on. The ideal conditions are partly cloudy with zero chance of rain. Heavy dew at night is also bad news and can result in cloudy varnish the next day. Once the weather cooperates, the removal of hardware can begin. Two large cleats and number of small snaps that our enclosure snaps down on came off, going into a plastic yogurt container right after coming off the boat. Half the battle is staying organized. Then the prep began in earnest.

As with pretty much any job, the prep is everything. We started with a Jabsco stripper, gloves and a respirator. After taping everything off--this stuff has an impressive work ethic and will pretty much remove anything it comes in contact with--we brushed it on one way and left it to do its magic. The stripper bubbled the remaining varnish up. Then it was time to switch gears to a sharpened pull scraper and gingerly scrape the varnish off. The rest came off with an orbital sander with 80 grit, connected a fairly abused shop vacuum to it to keep the dust from flying into the water. After sanding with 80 grit, it’s time to sand with a sanding block by hand of the same grit. On large flat pieces of wood, be particularly vigilant against squiggles the sander may have left. Apply some alcohol on a rag and give the piece of wood a wipe down. This will give you an idea of what it will look like once the varnish is on and, in addition to serving as motivation, will also give you a chance to look for squiggles. Repeat the process with finer grades: we use 120 and 220. While this sounds like a lot of work, the fine sanding is actually pretty easy. It’s the first removal that is the hard part.

Mahogany in transition. Applying the stain to bring out a rich luster.

Once everything is sanded and beautiful and we’ve run our sore finger tips across the smooth grain enough to soothe them, we move on to the staining part of the program, using a mahogany stain applied with a brush and then a rag dipped in thinner. First wipe everything down with denatured alcohol to get the dust off. Once the wood is spotless, the trick is to get the stain in the wood grain enough that the wood turns a light red color, and not get so much that it looks like fake redwood patio furniture. Once this has had a chance to dry, it’s time for the first coat of varnish.

Use a tack cloth to again remove all dust and tape off the area. Anything left will be embedded permanently in the varnish. We use the blue tape, but don’t leave it on for more than a day, and also use disposable foam brushes. Consider the green tape if you’re leaving it on for several days, but be careful. Leaving any tape on for too long can bring a frustrating day of cleaning up sticky tape residue. The first coat will be the thinnest, as to seep into the grain as much as possible. Apply in even strokes that overlap in a unified pattern. Now is not the time to get in touch with your inner VanGough. Let it dry. You’re done for today. As you quaff the beverage of your choice after a hard day of work, note that there’s nothing prettier than a fresh coat of varnish glinting in the sun.

To pull the tape or not to pull the tape? If you’re coming right back to it, leave it. But nothing looks worse than a tape job that’s sat for weeks waiting for a once industrious owner to return. Sanding in between coats is a delicate affair. It’s easy to go too far, even with a fine sand paper. It’s more light scuffing than it is sanding. Keep applying coats, thinning each one a little less until the final coats are straight up varnish. The thinner can be reduced at a rate that by the time you’re five coats through, it’s one capful to each eight ounces of varnish.

A sailor multitasks--finding some time to contemplate the universe and some time for fine sand in between coats of varnish.

There are some easy steps to keep varnish looking good. Keeping that Mahi-mahi from flopping around on deck is one, rinsing the boat off with fresh water after sailing is another. Salt crystals can magnify the sun’s rays and the crystals themselves can scour varnish. Any cover you can provide varnish will greatly increase its life. But the best policy is to not let it get away from you, and to reapply on a regular basis. And although we’re approaching winter, if you have access to a garage, it can be easily transformed into a varnish workshop. Handrails, trim pieces, doors, and more--all those little pieces you’ve been meaning to get around to varnishing--can take a trip home for the maintenance they deserve. Or at least that’s my plan this winter. There’s a lot of Zen in varnish. It’s a lot of work, but the results are worth it--and will likely at last be something that you and your neighbor can agree on.