Taking down the skin

After a week of vigorous demolition, I stepped away from the Silver Bullet and attended to other tasks. The weather was cool today, so I figured it was a good time to step back into the job of taking the interior apart.

R.I.V.E.T.S. Millions of them. OK, well, hundreds for sure. Each has to be drilled out in order to remove the interior skin. Airstreams are held together by rivets. Each rivet that is removed will have to be re-riveted in the future. Riveting, n'est pas?  What I've learned so far is that there is no rushing as far as this task is concerned. Taking the interior apart is a sloooooow process. After breaking numerous 1/8 inch drill bits, I selected 'slow' on the drill and bits ceased breaking.

Removing the interior skin and insulation is showing me exactly where the leaks are. Yes, leaks. All trailers leak—don't let anyone ever try to tell you otherwise. To fix the leaks, I'll need to go over each exterior buck rivet with a suction cup. No suction? Leaky rivet.  Yeah, there are a few hundred on the exterior as well. To fix, I'll have to drill the buck rivets out, and then replace with new (complete with waterproof goop to ensure a seal).

VistaView frame removed (bottom). Next step: remove window. Black gunk? Decades of leaks.

Once the walls are out, it's either the floor or windows. Thankfully no windows are broken, but they all have gunk between the panes. Forty-four years ago, some engineer/designer at the Mother Ship (Airstream lingo for the main plant in Jacksonville, OH) thought it would be a great idea to install Mylar between the panes. Well, after four decades, the Mylar has degraded and looks like the skin of a 90 year old who's lived in the sun their entire lives. Each window will need to be removed (rivets!), cut in half, Mylar removed, resealed, etc. It's kind of like becoming a surgeon, you know?

There's not a lot of visible floor rot, so I hope no serious frame remediation will be required. If it is, I guess I'll be taking a welding course, toute suite.

Some shots of today's work.

Ceiling skin removed

Wrinkly skin windows

Some would call this progress

Been working on the Silver Beast for the past week. I kinda knew the trailer would be in rough shape, based on the reading I've done lurking on various Airstream blogs and chat groups. Well, at least there isn't s#@!t to clean up! (Although I did take out the toilet and what to my wondering eyes should appear? The last schmuck who owned this trailer never dumped the black tank. Yes, correct. S.C.H.M.U.C.K.)

All the furniture is out. Most is garbage, mainly because it STINKS of I don't know what. It's like old, sour wood. Maybe the glues used in '74 have decayed over time. Who knows. I've stored a bunch of them for templates, which should come in handy.

All the electric wires have been exposed and labelled. I'm trying to wrap my head around schematic drawings. Luckily for me, my neighbor Hardy is a Swiss-trained electrical genius. A few cases of Sleemans Honey Brown and he'll be more than willing to help. It's his favorite. He literally has cases of empties stored in his garage.

There are leaks, as I knew there'd be. Not too many, which is great, but it's all relative. I'll be drilling out old rivets til the cows come home, and then replacing them (applying caulking as well). There's no point in doing this with half your bum cut off. "Why do it right when you can do it cheaper," is not the motto for this job. "Cheaper, faster, better." You can never have all three.

I removed my first panel today (after drilling out about 30 rivets). As I pulled back the pink insulation, the shiny exterior skin winked back at me. No leaks streaks, but oddly enough, the entire bottom stretch was heavily corroded (where the aluminum is placed in an aluminum channel). Time to get caulking stripper and plastic scrapers. And Por-15 rust inhibitor.

I discovered today that the wallpaper on the inner skin can be removed, revealing more aluminum. Very tempted to strip all the paper and get a VERY shiny interior. Heck, I'm retired: more time than money.

The floor is a write-off. I think a large part of the stink is from 45 years of dirt rubbed into it. So, once the walls are cleaned or stripped, off comes the plywood. Then the real fun begins because who knows what's been living in the belly pan. I've crawled underneath and most of it looks intact, so I have crossed every appendage I have in the hopes that the frame will be OK.

 Dump run #2.
Mostly stripped.

Totally stripped. 

Rust below pink insulation. Rotted floor. Shore water pressure regulator was burst. 

In The Beginning

Yes, we're hoping for the light of inspiration but for now, it's just taking stuff apart, labelling wires and chucking stuff out the door.  First dump run will be tomorrow! Not surprisingly, after 44 years, the furniture is tired and worn out. A lot of the stink is gone—there were rug tiles on the floor. Just think of the goodies stuck to that mat.

I found my first piece of floor rot today. It's under the street side window behind the door (Airstreamers, I'm learning use 'street side' for 'driver's side' and 'curb side' for 'passenger side.') I suspect there'll be more once I remove some of the wall panels. The cs curved front window has an inch of water in it. Yes, it looks like most, if not all of the windows will have to come out, be pried apart and cleaned, resealed and then apply new gaskets. I kind of knew this would be the case (or as my wise father said, 'we knew this would happen.' And yes, he put this on his grave stone. Theologically very astute for an guy with grade 4 education but I digress).

I removed the two of the fans today—found old wasp nests and dust elephants and dirt. I managed to remove them intact so they're going up on Ebay. Believe it or not, there are people out there renovating Airstreams to look exactly like they did when they came off the assembly line.  More power to them, I say.

I believe the most daunting part of this adventure will be staying organized, not rushing (and then braking windows that'll cost USD $500 to replace), labelling wires at their termination and beginning. The wires part is important because that way I'll know where to run new wires and what they're for.  The plumbing won't be a big deal.

But removing the fresh water tank will be a real joy. To do that, you have to be underneath the trailer, remove a large chunk of plywood, and then drop the tank without breaking it. Oh, and while you're under there, might as will replace rivets and such!  I looked at the body pan yesterday and noticed some of the brake wiring hanging down. My spidy sense told me that's probably not a good thing. We'll see what Master Google has to say about that.

Enjoy the photos!

What Was I thinkin'?

Right. What was I thinking? Well, what were Marlene and I thinking when we bought a 44 year old Airstream trailer?

Transformation—that's what we thought. We're going to take this old trailer and give it another few decades of life. It a physical manifestation of what we all hope to achieve in our inner life.

I'm also blogging about it as a record of demolition, renovation and repair. That way, when the time comes to bid our Land Yacht International goodbye, the new owners will know exactly what they're getting. But we don't want to think about selling, at least not for the next few years.

The Odyssey Begins
I left 100 Mile for Penticton on Monday and stayed overnight with good friend, then drove to Nelson the next day, leaving at 0400 hours. It's a gorgeous drive. There are scenes that look straight out of Scotland. Alas, there were no single malt breweries along the way.

I got to Nelson around 9:30 and stopped at Oso Negro for coffee. It is the place in Nelson. It was like being in West Van watching people in their mucho dollero outdoor clothes. Hmm, I wondered. Did I come my hair? Nope—I'm from the Cariboo.  Here in 100 Mile, you can buy groceries in cammo clothes/pajamas and no one gives you a second look. In Nelson? I think I could have potentially been accosted.

I met the seller and we did the usual dance and eventually agreed on a fair price. The Airstream has seen owners in Arizona, Yellowknife, North Vancouver, Kelowna and now 100 Mile House, BC.  It was quite the ordeal getting it here. Even had the local cops give me a hand getting her ready for the tow. Yes, the police in Nelson are a talented lot.

I had Penny, my dog along for the trip. She didn't like the policeman at all. She's never growled at anyone but he got the real deal—this was a serious "I'm gonna rip you to shreds" growl. I let her out of the truck for some air and she nipped the cop in the butt and jumped back in! He didn't miss a beat. "It's just the uniform, no big deal." He's got four dogs at home, he said.

I left for points northwest at around 6 p.m. wondering how my truck would handle the trailer. Turns out, all my bus driving experience from my university days came right back and the drive was alright. I had hoped to make Kelowna to stay with friends, but the Sandman overtook me about 100 kms out so I pulled into a rest stop and slept in the trailer.

And woke up at 3 am because it was so freaking cold! 3 Celsius! So, I fired up the Ram, and Penny and I continued on our merry way. That is, until the Sandman overtook me at around 6:30 a.m. Slept at another rest stop (in the truck) for at least a half an hour.

I didn't win any races going through the numerous passes, but when the terrain was kinder I was able to keep a steady 95 kms/hour. More gorgeous scenery, blue sky.

We arrived home at around 11 a.m. (yes, it's a BIG province) at which point I was struck with what the funk was I thinking buying a 44 year old trailer? So, instead of wallowing in buyer's remorse, I consulted the oracle (Google) and began watching uTube videos of people renovating the same trailer we now have. Yes, it takes time. And it will take more money. But, Marlene and I (newly retired) plan on doing most of it ourselves. No, I won't gas fit or do electrical but I can tear out floors, cabinets, move appliances, take the wall skins off, remove windows then pry them in half to remove film/moisture, put new gaskets on the windows, maybe switch out insulation, maybe tear out the floor and see what's beneath, have the trailer rewired, new plumbing (I can do that—I plumbed an entire barn or two once upon a time), new gas fittings, new furnace, probably a new water pump, new charger/converter; tear out the bathroom, rebuilt the shower, vanity, probably swap out the toilet (composting anyone?).

Seems simple, right? One day at a time. I once cleaned an entire farm (yes, think fields, fences, barns—anywhere a roving animal without a pen can go) one shovel at a time (I had a tractor to help) but most of it really was one shovel at a time. It took over a year. I figure an Airstream will be a piece of cake.

This blog will reveal whether or not my bold assertion will be realized, cake and all.

Thanks for joining the ride.