I stick in the pick, land a nail in each hole then bend a long 20' wood batten along the nails to draw a fair line with a Sharpie pen. From here on, I use adjustable trammel points on a long stick to replicate distances for transfer to a worktable to make each section or frame. And since I think too much as it is, I begin to foresee the shape of things to come in a way that puzzles my wife to see me sitting on the drawing with four sticks around me sizing up the cockpit area. It has to be done, and I have to lean back a little, like I'm doing 55 mph, and the sun is hot and the women are looking. Finally the time arrives when the boat begins to look like itself.
Every part is referenced, vertically and horizontally to a wire cable.
All the lines drawn months ago are now material realities suspended in air. But as I moved about and measured and recited numbers aloud, I collided with the clamps, braces and protrusive struts and was reminded of my sight problem. I might tape my white cane to the bow and zigzag across the lake just to suit their misconceptions.