26 February 2015

The Great Ice Crisis of 2015

If you've been following the new or -- worse -- actually living here, you've heard how unusually cold and snowy it's been in the northeast US this winter. But as much attention as poor Boston drivers have gotten, hardly anything has been said in the media about the lot of poor wooden boat owners, who have to keep their boats in the water all winter.

Liquid water. The kind boats float in. The kind of water that is hard to find when the temperature drops to 7 degrees F and the wind gusts to 30 knots. The kind of conditions that bring antiquated marina 'bubbler' systems to their knees. The kind of climate catastrophe that could bring on the Great Ice Crisis of 2015.

And that is where we pick up the story. Live from the arctic regions above 40 degrees north latitude...

I foolishly shot this video in portrait mode. For best viewing, click the 'full screen' button in the lower left hand corner.

Next Episode: Ice Crisis

07 February 2015

A Steady Place

It doesn't look like it, but Spring is just around the corner, and as usual, I am woefully behind on my winter project list. Just last week, as snow accumulated on bare limbs, I realized that I needed to get a move on if I meant to get my #1 project -- a new bowsprit for the Blue Moon -- done in time for her launching in April. And while I started to gather plans, tools, and materials for that project, I made a final push to finish my nearly-done bench.

Spring's around the corner?
Most of the bench has been done since before Christmas, but work on the final piece -- the face and end vices, had to be put off while wind chimes and bird houses were built for presents.

The article this bench is sourced from called it a 'weekend project'. That was a bit optimistic, particularly after I made the decision to build the front piece not from 2x6s, but from hard maple.

As you can see from the photos below, the front piece is made of two long pieces of maple, with several short pieces in between, leaving gaps for rectangular bench stops.

I built this using rough-cut maple jointed by hand with my old wooden jack plane. The boards had quite a bit of wind in them, and it was quite a challenge to get them straight with my simple tools and (very!) limited skills, but with many cups of tea supplied by Helena, I finally got them straight.

Having the main part of the bench built made the job much easier, of course, because it was already a better bench than I'd ever used. Planing the faces was done with a simple stop clamped to the edge of the bench, and to get the edges square, I clamped the piece to the front of the bench with long bar clamps.

Planing with just a clamped bench stop
I had Helena hold a piece of white paper behind the second winding stick in the photo below to take this photo, so you can see how much twist there was in the board.

If you don't know, winding sticks are just two straight sticks you put across both ends of the board. If there is no 'wind' to the board, the tops of the sticks will line up. Otherwise, the far stick will be rolled up to the right or left, depending on which way the board twists. You can see here, the board twists counter-clockwise from close end to far end.

The technique I used to get the wind out of the board was to plane primarily from the front-left corner, to the back-right corner. This takes the wind out fairly quickly.

Using winding sticks to see how much wind there is left to plane out
The bigger challenge was to get the edge of the board dead straight, so it matched up perfectly with the top of the bench when clamped in place.

My key strategy with this was to focus on the inside of the edge, leaving the ends high, because I tend to round off the ends of edges. By getting the inside part of the edge flat first, I was then able to quickly plane the ends flat.

Since I'm not very good at planing, and my plane is... well... less than perfect, shall we say... this took a long time!

And then there were two more to do!

Planing the edge of the board... Not sure why I had the third clamp in the middle for this picture!
But in the end, all three boards were flat and straight, and I glued them up as per the instructions in the article. Then it was time to attach the vice.

Almost done!
The front vise was the main expense of the bench, because I wanted a good one. After looking at several, I chose the Rockler heavy duty quick release vise. I'd been waiting many years for a decent vise and I'd learned enough to know that cheap tools are a lousy investment. Even so, it wasn't very expensive, and after trying it out, well worth the little money they ask for it.

'Quick release', if you don't know, means you when you turn the handle a half-turn, the mechanism unlocks, and you can then pull the vice front out freely, or push it in. This makes the vise much easier to use, and even after only using it for a few days, I'm glad I got one with this feature.

The vise is fastened to the bottom of the bench front with four long lag bolts. I put washers under the vise for the back bolts to pitch the top of the vise a bit closer to the bench. This means the top of the vise closes first, compensating for any wracking, and allowing for a very tight hold.

The vise face, by the way, is a bit of scrap walnut left over from last year, when I made a bunch of cutting boards for Christmas presents. I love my 'scrap' pile!

Rockler front vise screwed to the bottom of the bench front.
At the other end of the front is Tom's innovative 'tail vise'. This is simply a big Jorgensen clamp with one jaw bolted into the front, and the other left free to move. I will show you how this works in a moment.

Innovative 'tail vise'
And here is the finished bench, with the front bolted into position with 5 very large lag bolts. The bolt heads are recessed into the bench, leaving the bench front flat for clamping.

I must say, in all humility, that considering its mainly built from 2x4s and plywood, it doesn't look half-bad! What do you think?

My new bench, finally complete!
More important, it is rock solid, and very heavy. One of the features I didn't appreciate until I moved the bench to it's home on the other side of my work shop, is that it's feet can be easily re-leveled. Just loosen the two 6' threaded rods that hold the leg ends to the center spacer, and the feet find their own level on the floor. Just tighten the nuts again, and the feet are firmly planted on the floor. No wobble. Not even a hint of a wobble. 

What a project!
Here I demonstrate how the tail vise (clamp?) works. You just slip a bench stop into the appropriate hole, loosen the clamp using the two handles, drop the board into position, and clamp it in place. Because the right jaw is free to move up and down as well as in and out, it is easy to position it just right on the board so it has a good grip, yet is out of the way of the plane.

Tail vice in action
The Jorgensen clamps are very powerful, so the board is held very firmly, without fear of crushing the end of the board.

The bench stop in the photo below is just the scrap of wood I used as a spacer when laying out the pieces in the front. I intend to make a fancier one out of some nice hardwood, but for the moment, it's working just fine.

The high-tech bench stop
And here is the front vice in action. You cannot imagine how long I've waited for a vise and bench that would make planing easier. Taking a few strokes with my old smoothing plane was quite, quite satisfying.

Trying out the front vise
Finally, here I am doing a bit of end-grain planing with my block plane. An impossible job without a decent vise and bench. 

End-grain planing
So, not quite a weekend project, but a huge step forward for my shop. I will be building a set of wooden bench planes to go along with the bench in future episodes, but now I must turn to the urgent task at hand -- building a new bowsprit. 

Next Episode: Ice Crisis

06 February 2015

Most Beautiful View

It's a sailor's privilege to see many beautiful views not available to landlubbers. Just a few from my own recent personal experiences: sunrise on Pamlico Sound, the long beach on the island of Abraao in Brazil, the wild cliffs on Ushant, but this week I found a view that tops them all, and it's one that will have all wooden boat owners nodding in agreement.

Again, it's a view never seen, no less appreciated by landlubbers -- or indeed most boat owners. But I'm confident that it's a view that will have other wooden boat owners nodding in admiration and perhaps jealousy... a view of the Blue Moon's bone-dry bilge.

Bone-dry bilge -- in mid winter!
(Gotta get in there with a vacuum!
The Blue Moon has always been a pretty dry boat, since it has none of the usual sources of seeping salt water. No leaky stuffing box, no through hulls, no holes at all in the hull.

However, it has always had a mysterious leak through the deck. For years I have tried to track it down, but I never caught the leak in action, even when I was living on the boat on my long trek up the east coast of the US.

Nevertheless, the leak was there, hiding for weeks at a time no matter how hard it would rain, and then unexpectedly showing itself with an inch of water in the bilge.

It's been particularly irksome in the winter where I have always had to worry about water accumulating and then freezing. I visit the BM at least once a week throughout the year to check her bilge and to mop up any water with a special sponge that I keep handy, to soak up every drop. Keeping the floorboards up during the winter is another habit I've developed, to allow lots of air circulation, and to make sure I don't miss any water.

However, this fall, it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps the problem was with the BM's mast boot -- the tight covering that prevents rain and snow-melt from dripping down the mast and through the deck around the mast. Why this never occurred to me before is a mystery, but I've been so obsessive about the BM's deck that I always assumed the deck was leaking some place and never considered the more obvious source of water.

At any rate, inspired by this guess, I replaced the mast boot and, voila, leak solved! There hasn't been a drop in the bilge since that day, and I can't possibly convey how good this makes me feel to normal, non-wooden boat owners.

I don't need to explain the feeling to the rest of you.

Next Episode: A Steady Place

07 January 2015

Electrifying Progress

Wow, this is my 250th blog post. Where does the time fly?

Well, the shop clean up is progressing nicely. I cleared away the pile of rubble at the far end of my shop, picking out the good bits and storing them away neatly on my new wood rack, and chucking out the rest.

Here's the good stuff stored away:

Nicely organized wood
And after a whole lot of bundling up, carrying to the street, sweeping, scraping, and scrubbing, here's the next wall ready for some paint.

What a difference already
Today I applied paint, and voila, practically a new shop.

Amazing what a lick of paint can do!
Isn't it great to see the results without having to do any of the work? I envy you!

Anyway, the clean up is coming along.

Catching up with another job I did over the summer... Here's another one that looks pretty trivial, but actually took a lot of time.

When I bought the boat from Bob down in Florida, he admitted that he couldn't make heads or tails of the Blue Moon's wiring. After owning her for several years, I was just as baffled. There were wires going everywhere, but none of them seemed to do anything.

Plus the fuse panel was in a really awkward position, behind the boarding ladder, on the side of the footwell in the cockpit, waaaaaay out of reach. To throw a switch  you had to remove the boarding ladder, get down on your hands and knees, and crawl under the bridge deck to get to it. What a pain.

In the end, I decided to rewire the boat completely. I ripped out all the old wire, moved the breaker panel to a useful position near the galley, and rewired the whole boat.

old fuse panel in a new place
I made the little varnished mounting panel, and added a feature I liked from Eric's boat: a volt meter. The meter is only on the battery when the button under the meter is pressed in, so the meter can't drain the battery accidentally.

I added a cigarette-lighter style plug out of the way on the side of the galley.

12V socket
For some reason, I was worried that this little socket would get banged around when I'm stowing things away under the cockpit (lots of storage space, since there is no engine under there!) so I kind of over built it.

3/4" oak braket
But, hey, it's a good hand-hold.

One of the main uses of the 12V socket, besides charging iPhones and iPads, is running my new electric cooler. I wanted to make the Blue Moon ready for spur-of-the-moment cruising, so wanted to dispense with the need for ice. I liked the electric fridges on both Eric's and Luke's boat, but didn't have room for a built-in. I thought this little portable Coleman might do the job.

I'm not 100% convinced it is a good idea, yet. I will tell you how I tested it on a trip out to the Connecticut River, in a future post.

12V portable fridge
I also mounted the charger for my VHF, which gave the radio a permanent home, and will help keep it charged so it's ready when (if???) I need it. My previous ad-hoc charging 'system'  left me without a working VHF several times on my trip up the coast, which was very inconvenient. Nothing like trying to communicate with a bridge tender by blowing a fog horn. Not recommended.

I have never needed a VHF on Long Island Sound, but you never know. Now I'm ready.

New home for VHF
I also installed a port-side bunk light. I have had a starboard side bunk light since Jacksonville, FL, but needed another one for my little bench and for who ever is sleeping in the new pipe berth (Helena and I fight over that, since it is the most comfortable berth on the boat.)

Port-side bunk light

Last but not least, I had to replace my cabin fan, but I can't seem to find a picture of that.

Bottom line, I can now turn on my running lights, or my bilge pump without crawling under the cockpit, and I have a couple of lights and a fan, and a utility plug to charge and run accessories. It isn't much, but it makes a difference.

And it's all neatly wired in a way that will make it easy to add additional devices when and if needed.

Oh, I forgot to mention that every circuit is protected by a fuse, of course.

All in all, worth every minute crawling around in the bilge, or screwing wire holders into awkward spot.

Bob would be pleased.

Next Episode: Most beautiful view

04 January 2015

Lumber Rack

With the first wall scraped, cleaned, and painted with two coats of water-resistant paint, it was time to tackle the next wall, which is currently devoted to a substantial pile of scrap lumber left over from other projects. Some of this lumber is cheap stuff, like 2x6s and 1x8 cedar, but most of it is hardwood: oak, maple, mahogany, walnut, a delicious cherry plank from my uncle Marty, and a fairly precious piece of teak.

This 'scrap' pile has been growing steadily, and has recently grown to the size of a problem. It is in the way, and is so disorganized that I hardly know what I have anymore.

But the biggest issue for me is that I've started to think that storing wood in this haphazard way might not be good for the wood itself.

Plus I needed to get at that wall to scrape and paint it.

The problem: loads of lumber
If you just look at the picture above, you might wonder what the problem is, but behind my planer and bandsaw is what Paul Harvey would call, 'the rest of the story': a total pig-pile of junky and not-so junky wood.

I really had to do something about it.

It's even worse than it looks...
So that was the problem. The solution? A 12-foot long wood rack that I've been dying to build for at least a year. Equipped with a gift-card to Home Depot (thanks, mom!) and a day to myself, I finally made the dream a reality.

The solution - a l2-foot long lumber rack
The construction was pretty straight forward. I lag-bolted the 2x4 uprights to floor beams, then screwed the 1x3 strips to the front, being careful to keep them level so they looked right.

Next I screwed the 2x4 floor pieces to the uprights, and fastened my old black batten to them. These floor pieces are big enough to hold 6 or 8 sheets of plywood off the floor.

The horizontal 1x3s create a space to hold all the 2-4' off cuts that seem to proliferate around every project. These are all hardwood scraps and each one is a little memory of a fun project, so besides being thrifty, I just like looking at them.

Waiting for glue to dry...
Half the project was building the 'shelves'. I decided to get fancy and shape the shelf brackets in a simple way. This makes the rack look a bit more finished and 'professional' I think, and wasn't that hard to do. I made the first one free-hand, and then used it as a pattern for all the rest. I cut each piece to length with a handsaw (on my lovely bench) and cut out the pattern on the bandsaw.

The key design issue: getting shelves perfectly level
The tricky bit was to get all the shelf brackets to create a flat, even surface. I used a long, straight batten and a spirit level to mark the location for each bracket, and used the spirit level again to make sure each bracket was level. It took a bit of care, but the result was worth it. Now I know my wood will be lying on flat shelves.

2 lag bolts plus glue
To make sure the shelf brackets stayed level, I fastened them to the uprights using 5/16" lag bolts, and glued them for good measure.

Then I resisted the urge to 'try them out' by piling lumber on them before the glue dried.

Tomorrow will be soon enough to organize my old scrap pile.

Finally: a one day project that actually took one day!

Next Episode: Electrifying Progress

02 January 2015

A New(ish) Direction

While I get on with cleaning and painting -- jobs even I find boring -- I will catch up on what's been happening around the shop and on the water since Helena and I sadly disembarked from Agnes.

Looking better already!
For the future, probably the most interesting new development is my realization that I probably already own enough power tools. In fact, one or two too many.

Last time, I hinted that I'd had my fill of dust. It would be more precise to say I've had enough of the dust, noise, and clutter that a shop full of power tools creates. I respect that people who need to earn their daily bread with wood need to work fast, but Helena will be the first to tell you I am not a fast worker. 'Agonizingly slow', she might say; I prefer the word 'deliberate'.

At any rate, I have always liked working with hand tools, but though I've gradually collected a tidy pile of good old tools, I have had limited success using them. In the past, I would have blamed myself. "I'm just not handy!" was a favorite excuse. But this summer I realized two things were holding me back:

  1. I didn't have the right equipment to get my tools really sharp
  2. I didn't have the kind of solid bench needed to get the best out of them
Never one to let a hot insight grow cold, I immediately tackled both problems.

Not having thousands to spend on a Euro-bench, I searched the Internet for something almost as good, but a heck of a lot cheaper. In the end, I chose to build a fairly famous bench, and certainly one with a terrific name: "Tom's Torsion Box Workbench"

This 250 lb. bench is made from ordinary construction lumber and depends on 4 torsion boxes to give the bench it's strength and rigidity. Lots of people have built it and everyone seemed to love it, so I decided to give it a go. 

'Torsion box' is a fancy word for two thin layers of material securely fastened to a light-weight core. Think of a hollow door or an airplane's wing. Both are much stronger and more rigid than you would expect from such lightweight materials.

The torsion box's rigidity makes it resist the twisting and wracking of a lesser bench, such as the plywood-screwed-to-homemade-sawhorses that I'd been using for far too long. The following image shows a bit about how it works:

My old bench was even worse than that top bench 
For complete details including many good photos, see the article on the American Woodworker website. 

If you are intrigued by Tom's article, be aware that the link above points to the Version 2 bench. There was an earlier article about what I'll call the Version 1 bench, which is slightly but significantly different. The Version 2 bench benefits from several years of Tom working with the bench and is definitely the one you will want to build.

Anyway, I can't add much to Tom's brilliant article. All I can say is that it is as rock solid as he says it is. Even without the top, I was amazed at how solid it felt. 

Base of new bench

Oh, and don't believe the articles that say you can build this baby in a weekend. Unless you are much faster than me (come to think of it, that might be a possibility), a month of weekends is more realistic. 

I'm still not finished with mine, but already it's incredibly useful, and good enough to build all my Christmas gifts on. Instead of vises, I just clamped work pieces too the bench or used improvised planing stops. The main thing was the bench didn't shimmy and shake like Elvis when I planed and sawed on it. In fact, it just stood there like the Rock of Gibraltar. 

With top, but missing front bit which will hold front and tail vises.
A vast improvement over any bench I've ever used, no less owned. 

Just to show you how simple it is to build, here's the inside of one of the boxes:

Inside of the center frame
No fancy joinery, just 2x4s screwed and glued to plywood.

So building a decent bench was the first step in upping my hand-tool game. Building the front and tail vises will be job #1 as soon as I finish cleaning and reorganizing the shop. I can't wait.

Next Episode:  Lumber Rack

01 January 2015

Cleaning Up

Well, here it is, January 1st, 2015. The perfect day for a new start. As unlikely as it seems, I've been at this boatbuilding/woodworking thing for over 5 years now. Ever since I first decided to build a wooden boat, back in September of 2009. That is a lot of sawing, a lot of drilling, a lot of surface planing, and a lot of sanding.

Which all adds up to a lot of dust.

Which is why I've decided to kick off the year with a new resolution to 1) clean up all that dust and 2) to make a whole lot less of it in the future.

The first job is simple, it just requires a lot of work, which I kicked off today with some help from Helena.

I broke down the rickety plywood 'workbench' that I've been using for a couple years, and cleared away all the junk that was leaning against my shop's outside wall.

What all that work revealed wasn't pretty: a combination of peeling paint, dust, and mold. But all that needs is a bit of bleach and elbow grease, and paint to clean up.

Over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to go round all 4 walls, cleaning and painting everything that won't move, and sorting through everything that will move, to separate the junk and clutter from the useful.

Junk and clutter are heading out the door.

Starting the big clean up
If there's anything better than buying something new, it's throwing something out. I think Thoreau said that.

With lots more to come...
The second part of my resolution -- making less dust in the future -- is both more complicated and more interesting. More on that in the coming weeks, but I need to clean up and get re-organized  quickly, because I have a long list of new projects that must be done by spring, including building a beautiful new bowsprit for the Blue Moon.

So, what's your boatbuilding/woodworking resolution this year?

Next Episode: A New(ish) Direction

17 August 2014


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Monday, July 21, 2014

We all woke up at about 8 am, enjoyed creamy scrambled eggs with butter, and agreed that we would all go to shore to tour the island, then regroup at 1:00 pm for lunch on board Agnes before setting sail for our final destination: Brest.

Camaret is famous for langoustines: crustaceans smaller than lobsters, bigger than shrimp. It's a beautiful old town with windy little streets and old stone-walled houses. We spent a couple of hours  browsing art galleries, souvenir shops and cafes.

A pretty little boat that reminded John of the Blue Moon.
With legs!
Getting ready for the lunch crowd
Roaming the back streets of Camaret

Easy to get lost in the maze of narrow streets

Back on Agnes, we had fantastic lunch of tomato-parsley-cucumber salad, camembert cheese, and several French pâté with crunchy bread from the local boulangerie. 

Then it was time to set sail. Breast was a short sail from Camaret, so the captain decided we would sail around Roscanvel Bay until all sailors had enough of what they come for ... sailing!!

After sailing for several hours in very good windy conditions, the captain decided we'd had enough and we turned towards our destination.

We arrived at Breast during the early evening hours, tying up in the main marina after witnessing one final act of amazing seamanship: watching Captain Luke turn the 46' Agnes (plus 10' bowsprit!) around in close to her own length -- all the while not scratching any of the gleaming multi-million dollar yachts on either side. Agnes's crew just held their collective breath, then applauded the performance.

Brest is a military/naval base, one of the biggest. The was completely destroyed during the World War II by the allies (i.e., Brits and Americans) trying to bomb the German U-boat base. The city was almost completely rebuilt after the war, and today is a showpiece of classic 50's and 60's architecture.

Why few old buildings remain

Brest today -- 60's feeling

And some of it was breathtaking

Does that sign in the window say 20% off?

Some lovely boats in the harbor

And some big ones

The marina was full because of the oncoming Classic Sailing Boats Festival and we tied up along side a ocean crossing super modern fiber glass boat. It was almost as long as Agnes, but the contrast between the two vessels couldn't be more obvious.

Showers in the marina, followed by dinner accompanied by several bottles of wine and beer on board were a great way to finish the day.

The marina at night
Last stories told around the oil lamp

And that was our last night aboard Agnes.

Next Episode: Cleaning Up

12 August 2014

Ile de Molene

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Sunday, July 20, 2014

We woke up as early as we could, grabbed a bite of breakfast, and by 8:30 Luke was ferrying us to Ile de Molene. We were determined to tour as much of the the island as possible, before departing at noon for our new destination. In fact, we meant to circumnavigate the whole island, if we could.

This island is very different from Ouessant: the streets are really, really narrow; the small, concrete houses are arranged in no discernible order;  and there is only one car on the whole island, as far as we can tell. Population during summer, counting all the tourists: probably about 250. Winter crowd: I would guess 8.

The village of Molene

The waterfront with fishing boats

Narrow... streets?

Who knew the French were such keen gardeners?


Quaint little gardens, neat stone walls, flowers everywhere... with several landscaping ideas already brewing in my mind, I can't wait to get home and start working on my garden. The landscape beyond the tiny town, on the other hand, is much the same on the other islands: lots of grass and barren rocks, no trees, no stray animals, and a neatly mown grass trail along the seafront, all the way around the island. And the sea. Always the sea. Lovely.

The calm Atlantic
Hiker? Sailor? What can I say?
We circumnavigated the island in 2 hours. Back in the village, we found that all the cafes were closed, but the owners of one were nice enough to rustle up some croissants and coffee for us. By noon we were back on Agnes, ready for the next adventure.

As we set sails, there was little wind, no waves. We sailed very slowly for hours in complete silence. The water sounded like a trickle under the boat; the Celtic Sea was flat as a pool, with a beautiful caribbean color to it. What really impressed me was the absence of marine life... no fish jumping here and there, no birds (maybe one or 2), nothing. Really, it was like a pool, but cold.

Hoisting the anchor with Agnes' man-powered windlass

The big fisherman's anchor was hoisted aboard with this easily-rigged crane

Sweating the mainsail up.

Johanna taking us out

Me, hard at work

On the positive side: it was my chance to steer the boat. Keep it at 90 degrees on the compass and just look ahead, I told myself. Nothing out here to run into. I was glad to have the experience at the helm.

Meanwhile, Luke and Mark took advantage of the rare no-wind situation to launch the dinghy and buzz around Agnes, taking pictures of her with all her sails flying.

When the wind picked up, we recovered the dingy and then all the sailors aboard Agnes were smiling again! Oh, Yeah! High winds, full sails, heeling boat,  sheets and halyards creaking with the tension: that's what this trip is all about.

We are on our way back to the mainland of France: next destination Camaret-sur-Mer. Sounds fantastique!

Approaching Camaret... the Captain on the bowsprit

We arrived at Cameret before sunset and decided that we just time to go ashore for a walk before dark. Mark, John and I left for the hamlet. We walked on the beach shore where we collected tiny colorful shells, beautiful. The sunset was warm, and the light just perfect for pictures.

The old quay-side church
Some fixer-uppers, for readers longing for adventure

This one needs a bit of TLC

The (nearly) empty beach at Camerete

Rock sculptures on the sea wall

Happy sailors (with a nice breeze blowing!)

Back on Agnes, once again Johanna served up a fantastic dinner of pork chops covered with mushroom and mustard sauce, good wine, and amazing conversation. The crew is really friendly and we are getting along just fine.

Next Episode: Camaret-sur-Mer

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