We Build a Boathouse!

by Norman A. Thetford and Baxter Walsh

From its inception in 1970, the New Haven Rowing Club had used the John Cooke Boathouse in Derby for its locus of operations. This was directly due to the blessing of Tony Johnson, Yale's head rowing coach who arrived there in 1969 and was instrumental in the founding of the NHRC. He believed that rowing was more important than the need to minimize some additional wear and tear on equipment. As a result, we were able to utilize a range of boats and oars and had access to the boat trailer when needed to attend away regattas. We were also able to share trailer space with Yale at big regattas such as the Head of the Charles.

By 1990, however, both Yale and the NHRC wanted to expand. Yale had already added a bay for their women’s team and needed more space for boats and oars, and NHRC wanted to increase our membership and equipment as well. We explored several options, including financing an additional bay in the existing boathouse or building a separate boathouse downstream from Yale nearer to the dam on property Yale had been given by the power company. Because Yale decided that they did not want their long-range plans for improving their existing rowing facility to be encumbered by any arrangement with the NHRC, we were faced with having to find a new place within about two years.

We embarked on a search for suitable locations, looking below the Derby Dam at a site in Shelton, and above the Stevenson Dam at a site on Lake Zoar, as well as along the Housatonic River between the dams. After several months of evaluation, we selected the current site in Oxford based on suitability, availability, location, and cost. Stuart Lathers, a new rower and recent graduate of Yale’s School of Architecture, designed a model of our two-bay boathouse that would fit the site and could be buildable by the members. It was presented at a meeting of the membership in July 1991 and overwhelmingly approved by the 50 members present.

We were fortunate in being able to raise the $100,000 purchase price fairly quickly from a small group of members. That enabled us to put the site under contract, pending a favorable decision by the Oxford Planning and Zoning Committee that we would be able to build a boathouse at that location.  The location was zoned for residential use only, but we were able to take advantage of a special exception for sports facilities.  We also had to have a percolation test done to ensure that our septic system would work and that in the event of a flood, our facility would not unduly impede the flow of water.[1]

Once the property was secured[2], we had a club-wide operation to clear the property in March 1992. There were some 30 members and an assortment of chainsaws, rakes, shovels, and wheelbarrows, along with a woodchipper provided by Skip Clark. Fortunately, no one was injured by all the action and the site was cleared in one day!

The first stage was establishing a foundation. Given the proximity to the river and the attendant risk of flooding, Stuart designed the footings under each of the 15 columns to be massive concrete slabs seven feet square and two feet thick, located some eight feet below ground. We hired a back hoe to dig the holes but members of the club built the forms for each of the slabs. We learned a lot about working with concrete while building this boathouse!

Once the column footings were in, the columns were constructed in sections, each 18 inches square, about four feet high, and with plenty of rebar. Once they reached the design level, they were topped off with an attractively shaped cap which tapered to match the eventual columns. While the column bases were being constructed, we started on the perimeter walls. For additional strength, the walls were designed to be 18 inches wide below grade, reducing to 12 inches wide above grade. Although we used a backhoe for the preliminary excavation, the final touch-ups were done by individuals with shovels. 

To save money, we rented only enough concrete form panels to construct about 25% of the foundation walls. After each section was completed, we had to remove the forms, clean off the concrete residue, and re-oil the forms for use in the next section. Once the outside perimeter of a section was established with the forms, Stu would check its alignment with his level-transit. Then the inner panels were installed, using metal twist ties to ensure that the panels did not bulge out from the weight of the concrete. Rebar was also installed at this step, with enough protruding at the top to connect to the next section of the wall, if needed. One problem that arose occasionally was either an accidental drop of a hammer or other tool into the space between the panels, or a repair that had to be made. Then, one of our smaller members, usually a female, would gingerly squeeze down between the wires and sharp edges and retrieve the tool or make the repair, and then carefully climb back up. Brave souls!

Once the walls and columns were poured and all the forms removed, you could see what the boathouse footprint looked like.  It was impressive! The next step was to pour the floor of the boat bays, followed by the entrance landing and the steps leading down to the boat bays. To have a flat floor in the future, we had to make sure the floor's foundation was firm and level.  To do that, we graded the roughly 400 square feet with Skip Clark’s Bobcat, spread gravel, and then tamped the entire surface using a power plate compactor to ensure that it was firm and level. 

Once the base was ready, we constructed the rebar grid and any necessary forms, and had the concrete poured.  To ensure that the finish of the floor would be uniform, we hired a professional firm to do the final finishing, using special machines designed for that purpose.

After each section of panels was constructed and ready, the cement trucks would arrive and start pouring concrete into the space between the panels. As this was happening, one of our members, usually Ned Williams, Ed Offchiss or Stu Lathers, would take a section of rebar and poke the fresh concrete repeatedly to eliminate any air bubbles that may have formed while the pouring was being done.

Shortly after finishing the floor, a big truck arrived, laden with a bewildering assortment of long, very heavy, beautifully laminated wooden beams (glulams[3]), all marked with mysterious codes. Under Stu's direction, the truck driver unloaded the beams into specific groupings, depending on where they would be used in the boathouse. Although the truck driver used a crane to move the beams, we had to use rower power! We found that by sliding four heavy-duty straps under each beam (two at one end and two at the other end), and with eight rowers on the ends of the straps, we could relatively easily move even the largest of beams from the storage area to the boathouse.

The most exciting time for everyone was the day we erected the first upright beam! It was set in the north bay near the stairway. We tugged the first beam into place with the bottom end resting on the beam foundation block, which was about two feet high. We lifted the bottom end up onto that block, then by holding the bottom end firmly in place, we began lifting the top end from the floor. These column beams were about 16 feet long and weighed several hundred pounds. There were about 15 people involved in the operation, with one group lifting the beam up to about a 30-degree angle and another group hauling on a line attached high up on the column. By pulling the ropes and pushing the beam up by hand from the floor the beam gradually became vertical. What a sight! The whole process took the better part of an hour, but we rapidly learned how to be more efficient[4].

The column beams were installed in five rows of three columns each, starting at the front of the boathouse, near the street, and finishing up at the water side. Once the first set of columns was secured, we started the framing process.  Now we learned what all those codes on the beams were for! Essentially, we were assembling a large-scale version of an Erector Set, where each beam was labeled as to where it fitted in the structure. Raising the cross beams, which were about twice the weight of the column beams, was another challenge. We solved that by using several air conditioner lifts, each of which could handle up to 400 pounds. By having one at each end of the cross beam, we could easily raise the beam to the top of the columns and bolt it into place.  Once the cross beams in the first and second rows had been installed, we used the same process to install the lateral beams that ran along the sides of the building and down the middle between the boat bays.

After the cross and lateral beams were installed, we had a grid measuring 40 feet by 100 feet supported by 15 columns some 16 feet in the air. Rectangular structures like that need cross-bracing to resist wind stress, so Stu was quick to get the flooring boards installed on the top of the grid to provide rigidity. After they were installed, we screwed sheets of plywood to the floorboards, resulting in a very strong floor "sandwich" that created a very stable structure. This floor would support the locker rooms, club room, kitchen, office and storage closets.

Concurrently with the team installing the floor, another team installed sections between the columns on the lower level. A key part of this portion of the project was the construction and installation of the flood panels in the first four sections closest to the river.  That was accomplished by essentially framing a “window” opening about five feet high and 15 feet long in each of the sections and then inserting the flood panel into the opening. In theory, the panels would "blow out" if hit by a big surge of water from the north[5]. In practice, given how hard it was to hammer those panels into the openings, one wonders if they would move at all!

Constructing the second level followed a similar process except that the front third of floor would be the club room, and Stu did not want columns in the center of that part.  To replace the columns, Stu had designed trusses, also made from glue lams that would span the entire 40 feet from wall to wall.  Given the height of the structure at that point, we hired a crane and operator to lift the glulam columns, cross beams, and truss components up to the second-floor level where we could work with them.  Our goal at this point, was to get the building closed in by late fall 1993 so we could concentrate on completing the interior structures during the winter and spring of 1994.

Given the expertise learned over the summer, the teams put up the remaining columns, cross and lateral beams, flooring (for the portion comprising the third level), and the roof trusses and ridge beams within about a month. Then the roofing team went to work, creating a multi-level “sandwich” of ceiling boards, OSB panels[6], six inches of rigid foam insulation, furring strips, and another layer of OSB panels.  Now it was ready for the underlayment and shingles. Club members, including Ed Offchiss, started out installing the underlayment (tarpaper) for the asphalt shingles. However, Ed, while working alone on the roof on his day off (he was a commercial pilot for American), slipped and slid off the edge of the roof, some 30 feet from the ground! Being a pilot, Ed planned his landing on the only pile of sand still remaining from the earlier excavations, and slid down the side of the pile, avoiding any injury. At that point, the club decided to hire some professional roofers to complete the job! They constructed staging around the edges and had the necessary safety lines. The roof was completed without further incidents! One amusing item of note: because there was no temporary elevator to bring bundles of shingles up to the staging area, the club members volunteered to do that to speed up the roofing process. The roofers were amazed when female rowers like Ellyssa Eror would pick up a bundle of shingles weighing about 50 pounds, climb up the ladder with the bundle on her shoulder, and flip it onto the staging platform. They had never seen such strong women!

Once the building was closed in, work started on the interior components. In addition to Stuart Lathers, the architect and overall general contractor, the club was fortunate to have a number of members who had experience in several building trades: Scott Davies (general contractor), Kirk Frederickson (fine woodworking), Brad Hubler (plumbing), Angus Lamont (electrical), Norm Thetford (electrical), and Ned Williams (tiling and fine woodwork). By using these skilled members for much of the work, the club was able to minimize the cost of this aspect of the construction.

Many other members learned building skills for the first time and were quite successful in the process. Notable among them were the Charney brothers, who became expert in applying a large portion of the 40,000 shingles it took to sheath the building, Don Chartier and his team installing the floorboards, Jim Segaloff in staining shingles, and Steve Flagg in assembling and finishing the beautiful mahogany doors at both ends of the building. Supporting the whole team were Helma Chartier and Nancy Brackett, who led the Food Service Team that made sure that everyone was fed and hydrated during the nearly two years of construction.

[1] To accomplish this, there are four panels on each side of the lower level that would "blow out" in the event of a massive flow of water coming downstream.
[2] Purchased on December 9, 1991
[3] Glue-laminated timber (glulam) is a structural engineered wood product commonly used for beams and columns in residential and commercial applications.   It is comparable to steel in strength but much lighter.
[4] By the time we finished raising the last column, the process was completed using only about five people and a “come-along” ratchet for pulling, and took about 15 minutes.
[5] Based on a theoretical flood level if the Stevenson Dam (two miles upstream) were to fail catastrophically.
[6] OSB stands for Oriented Strand Board. It is similar to plywood, but stronger in shear strength.